#I DRAW ON MY PHONE WITH MY FINGER & I DID THE BACKGROUND BY HAND & IT TOOK ME 1000 YEARS RAAAAHHHH

[azucarera-art]

the prettiest girl

[mrkis]

raw. (m.l)

PAIRING: mark lee x afab!reader GENRE: smut WORD COUNT: 3.4k

SYNOPSIS: you find out you're out of condoms as soon as you and mark are about to have sex. feeling defeated, mark opts to go relieve himself in the bathroom but you suggest maybe that its time for him to finally fuck you raw.

CONTENT WARNINGS: explicit content, established relationship, light touching, starts off with sweet!mark then switches to pussy drunk!mark, unprotected sex, creampie, heavy use of 'my girl' and 'baby', nasty dirty talk mark doesn't shut the fuck up,

“I’ve missed you.” Mark mouths at your skin, arms tight around your middle as he presses you against his chest, breathing in the scent of your body wash and perfume as he nuzzles his head into the crevice of your neck. You smile, lacing your fingers through his hair as you melt into his embrace and he hums at the soft tugs you give, suckling and nipping at the spot where your shoulder and neck meet.

“Ow,” A giggle leaves your lips as Mark bites down a little too hard and your body angles away from him, only for him to whine and try and draw your back to him, muttering an apology against your neck as he tightens his hold on you. “We can’t stand here all day, Mark.”

Mark huffs as if what you’ve stated is something so offensive it hurts his feelings, shoulders sagging as he reluctantly lets you go but his hand slips into your own, intertwining your fingers as he allows you to pull him to a more suitable place than your front door, dragging his socked covered feet across the floorboards as he takes in your home, a warmth spreading through his chest.

Mark missed being at your place, the sweet familiar smell of a candle that was previously burning filling his senses, the hum of the TV playing your favourite show in the background, the subtle misplaced ornaments and potted plants that you’ve picked up to move or admire.

He takes a glance at your kitchen as he passes it, noticing a dish and a bowl soaking in soapy water and he smiles knowing you’ve eaten already, wondering if it was something delicious and filling for you. He wants to ask what it could’ve been, but the question remains on the tip of his tongue as you’re pulling him towards your bedroom.

And that’s when he feels most at home. 

The bag that was once resting on his shoulders drops to the ground, mindlessly being kicked to the side as his body finally relaxes, the tiredness that he’s used to pushing at the back of his mind comes front and centre, sluggishly making his way towards the unmade bed and planting himself down on the edge. 

The hand that's holding yours pulls you between his open legs and he rests his cheek on your stomach, embracing you as he once did a few moments prior and he sighs happily as your fingers resume playing with his hair. 

“How was work?”

“Fine,” His tone is quiet and gentle. “Japan was fun. Yuta was our tour guide again and was taking us to all these places,” Mark moves his head a little to look up at you, resting his chin on your stomach inside. “I took some pictures for you—ones I haven’t sent you yet.” 

You’re more than eager to see what pictures Mark wants to show you, gently pushing him up the bed for him to lay comfortably and he laughs, reaching into his pocket to retrieve his phone while his other arm curls around you, holding you close to his side and pressing his lips to the top of your head, finding comfort in the scent of your shampoo as he unlocks his phone, clicking the camera roll app and your eyes widen in excitement seeing all the recent photos you haven’t seen.

You’re in awe watching him scroll through the photos, the scenery and the colours of it all leaving you speechless, hanging onto every word as he tells you the story behind them all, some comical and others sweet and endearing. 

“Seeing this one, like, reminded me of you.” He whispers against your head as he shows you a picture of a sunset, a blend of pinks and oranges making your heart flutter. “It’s pretty—calming, made me feel at ease. It made me miss you even more than I already did, you know.”

“You called me every night,” You tell him, laughing as he groans and rolls his eyes, throwing his phone to the side before gripping your hips, pulling your body on top of his and massaging your thighs with his fingers, kneading the skin as they settle on each of his sides. 

“You know it’s not the same,” Mark argues, tongue swiping across his bottom lip. “I love hearing your voice over the phone but, like, having you there with me physically means more to me. I get to hold you, I get to touch you… I get to kiss my girl.”

“Is that so?”

Mark hums with a short nod of his head before he cranes his neck up to meet your lips in a short but sweet kiss, squeezing your thighs once you reciprocate and he smiles against your lips as he feels your hands cradle his cheeks.

Then, you feel it. His hard cock pressing your inner thigh, twitching with each subtle movement of your hips as you rest your entire weight on him, causing him to grunt against your lips due to the pressure on his cock. 

“Are you tired?” You pull away from his lips to ask him and you bite back the smile that threatens to spread across your cheeks as Mark follows, wanting your mouth back on his. 

“A little,” He admits, squeezing your thighs. “But I don’t care. Just want you.”

Warmth fills your chest, “You want me?”

“So bad.” 

You don’t have time to swoon over his words as he’s already leaning up and reconnecting your lips in a much deeper kiss, biting down on your bottom lip and sliding his tongue into your mouth to tangle with your own all while his hands slip around to grip your ass, pulling you ever closer so that your chest is pressed against his. 

You kiss for a while, relishing in the way his lips feel on yours, familiar with the slow and unrushed pace he takes and your hands curl around the front of his shirt, signalling for him to take it off immediately and he smiles against your mouth, breaking the kiss for a moment to allow you to pull the material over his head.

He’s giving you a toothy smile, eyes twinkling with adoration as he stares up at you and his fingers twitch over the hem of your shirt, ready to take it off and you happily give him permission to do so, raising your arms in the air and Mark tugs it off, throwing it carelessly to the side before his hands touch your skin, palms hot and clammy as he brings you in for another kiss, one that's more desperate and needy.

Mark’s moaning shamelessly into your mouth when your hands dip beneath the waistband of his sweatpants and boxers, first curling around his cock and giving him a few experimental pumps that has him almost drawing blood on your lip when he bites down a little too hard.

“Easy,” You hum with a giggle and Mark groans, craning his neck as he throws his head back against the pillows, tongue licking his bottom lip as your hand squeezes around his cock. He lifts his hips as you begin to rid him of the rest of his clothing and you awkwardly manoeuvre above him, laughing as you almost topple over if it wasn’t for the hold he has on your hips.

“You go easy,” Mark teases you this time and you roll your eyes. You drop your hands from him to finally peel off the rest of your own clothes and he watches you with hooded lids, resting one arm behind his head while the other wraps around his cock to jerk himself off as he takes in your naked body, something he’s seen plenty of times before but he views it as if it's his first time, absorbing himself in your curves, the swell of your breasts and your pretty pussy.

“Like what you see?”

Mark smiles, “Always,”

You get a little shy at his compliment but continue to lean forwards to capture his lips in a kiss which he immediately reciprocates, his hand curls around the back of your neck to keep you still against his lips and he moans as your tongue slips inside his mouth to touch his own.

He’s still touching himself between your bodies, lifts jerking upwards into his fist and gasping in your mouth when the tip grazes over your skin, the sensitivity sending goosebumps down his spine.

You pull away from his lips much to his dismay and he tries to pull you back in but stops when he sees you manoeuvring your way down his body, leaving a trail of kisses behind which makes him moan again, mouth falling slack as he feels your tongue lick a clean stripe down his navel.

You brush your fingers over his inner thighs, smiling at how his cock twitches against his stomach, stroking further and further up his skin before your fingers grip his cock, hearing the slight hiss he makes through his teeth and you smile, leaning in closer to wrap your lips around his tip.

“Wait!” Mark suddenly yells out and you stop in surprise, bringing your gaze up from his cock to his face and he reaches his hand forward to cradle your check, his thumb caressing your skin. He looks like he’s in pain, but he explains, “I’ll cum too quickly if you suck my cock, like, seriously, I will cum the second I feel your tongue on me again.”

That makes you even more eager to shove his cock down your throat and you tighten your fingers around the base, causing him to throw his head back with a gasp, “I don’t mind.”

“But I do,” Mark weakly pushes your hand away and his cock slaps back against his stomach, his hips jerking upwards at the sudden contact. “Fuck—baby I’ve been waiting for this for so long. I want to cum fucking you—please, I—” He winces as his hand comes down to cup his balls, almost as if he’s trying to stop himself from cumming right there and there from his words. “I want to fuck you.”

You would awe at the sight if it wasn’t for the way he’s looking at you right now, so desperate and needy to be inside of you and you’re more than welcome to give him exactly what he wants, briefly nodding your head for confirmation and his shoulders drop with a relieved sigh.

Mark gently pushes you down on the bed to crawl above you, kneeling between your parted thighs and he almost drools at the sight of your pussy, glistening and ready for him to fuck. He’s quick to lean over to open the drawers of your nightstand, digging his hand inside to search around for the box of condoms he knows you have for him.

He pulls out the box and he leans back on his ankles as he dips his hand inside, and you wait patiently for him to retrieve it and roll it onto his cock, but the way his body freezes and face drops you know something is wrong and you grow concerned, leaning up on your elbows.

“Mark?”

“No, no, no,” Mark mumbles repeatedly under his breath as he turns the box upside down and shakes aggressively, praying that a condom will magically appear out of thin air and lay across the palm of his hand but it remains empty. “Jesus Christ, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

You gape at him in shock, “There’s no condoms left?”

“There’s no condoms left,” He repeats, throwing the empty box down on the bed and he runs his hand over his face in annoyance, tears of frustration prickling at his eyes. You watch as he brows pull together, how his jaw clenches and nostrils flare in anger. It was a sight you’re definitely not used to seeing, but it’s something that has your thighs clenching for some friction below. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” You try to reassure him as his cheeks get a little red and you reach up to stroke his shoulders. “We must’ve used the last one before you left to go to Japan without knowing.”

“I should’ve been prepared, you know, I should’ve bought a pack before coming here—I shouldn’t have relied on you to have the condoms but, fuck, I was just so exciting to see my girl that I didn’t even think about—”

“Baby, it’s okay.” You try to cut off his rambling by reassuring him again but it's no use.

“—And now we have nothing and I’m just—” His hands wave over his hard cock comically and you hold back a snort, watching how his fingers run through his hair with a sigh. “Okay, I should just, like, make you cum on my tongue and then I’m going to go jerk off in the—”

“No!” You shout this time, startling Mark who stares at you with wide eyes and you immediately apologise, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, baby. But you don’t need to do that, it’s okay.”

“Then what are we going to do?” He questions with a whiny tone that has your head reeling and pussy begging to be fucked. The way he’s staring at you so desperately and in pain is enough for you to come up with an idea.

“How about we just do it raw this time?”

Mark blinks, “Raw? Like, without a condom?”

“Yes.”

“Baby…” Mark sighs softly as he rubs at your thighs, “You know we can’t do that. We can’t risk anything, you know, and even though I’m certain I’m going to spend the rest of my life with my girl and start a family… we really can’t risk anything. It’s too soon and we’re both not ready for that either.”

You frown, “I know that. But nothing will happen, I promise. I’m on the pill.”

“What?”

“I’ve been on the pill for a few months,” You tell him nonchalantly and he looks at you as if you kept such a big secret away from him. “Remember that night when the condom broke and we panicked?” Mark nods his head quickly, “I went on the pill the day after that. I didn’t want us to have another scare or anything.”

“You’ve been on the pill for five months?” Mark asks you and you hum, confirming its true and he gapes in shock, dropping his gaze down to your pussy in disbelief. “So we could’ve done this five months ago?”

You struggle to hold back a laugh this time, the sound stifled by your lips. “Yes.”

“So, I can just…” Mark trails off as he shuffles forward, the tip of his cock brushing over your folds and you gasp as he flicks over your clit, thighs clamping around his hips. “I can just slide right in, feel you, fill you up.” He’s mumbling now, some words incoherent while others are clear as day, his lewdness making your face hot as his cock nudges your opening, almost teasing you by not fucking you immediately and you bite back the urge to tell him to hurry it up.

back the urge to tell him to hurry it up.

You suck in a deep breath as Mark finally pushes into you and his eyes grow wide, mouth slack as he feels the warmth of your walls fit snugly around his cock. He’s frozen above you, cock pulsing as he feels you bare for the first time and his eyes flick to yours, and his gaze suddenly darkens, his fingers pressing against the meat of your waist. 

You go to call out his name, to ask him if he’s alright but a surprised yelp flees past your lips as his hips snap forwards, burying himself deep inside of your pussy and your arms fling around his shoulders, gripping him tightly as he pants above you.

“Feel so fucking good, baby,” Mark grunts under his breath, fucking himself into you deeper and you wail, thighs clamping around his waist. “Feels so tight. All for me, yeah? Just for me. So fucking good. My pretty girl and her perfect pussy.”

“Mark.” You try to speak, stuttering over your words with each thrust, the bed creaking beneath your bodies, headboard hitting against the wall but you could care less about the noise, too surprised to see the sudden change in your boyfriend. 

His tone and his words are enough to have you gaping at him, broken moans ripping through your throat at how nasty he sounds, how he uncontrollably mutters how good your cunt feels wrapped around his cock and how wet you are for him. 

You’re not used to this. You’re used to the sweet talk, the light feathery kisses he leaves on your skin, words of sweet praises and gentle whispers of ‘i love yous’. 

You’re not complaining though. Never. 

Seeing Mark switch up just from fucking you raw for the first time has your mind spinning and electricity buzzing down your spine, fingernails digging further into his shoulder blades and clamping around him tightly, cursing him to curse.

“Fuck, that’s it. That’s it, baby. Tight little cunt squeezing me in so good,” Mark whispers in your ear, almost sounding like he’s whining. “My girl. My fucking girl.”

“Please,” You beg, even though you have no idea what you’re begging for. “Please, please, please.”

“Gonna fill you up, fuck you full of my cum,” Mark slurs his words, his pace quickening as his cock drills into you, his hands gripping your waist tighter when he hears you moan prettily for him. “You want that? Hm? Want me to fill you up? Fuck this cunt full?”

“Yes,” You pant heavily, tightening your legs around his hips, desperate for him to cum, to feel him deep inside. “Please.”

“Sounds so pretty when my baby begs for me,” Mark hums as he leans in to kiss your lips but he pulls away much too quickly for your liking, not allowing you to enjoy it. But you gasp when you feel his hand slide between your bodies, thumb rubbing your clit. “Gonna cum for me like I’m gonna cum for you, yeah? Want to see my girl cum for me before I fuck her pussy full.”

You’re already letting yourself go just from his words alone, your orgasm crashing over your like an aggressive wave and you body seizes up, almost sobbing from sensitivity as he fucks you through it, thumbing at your clit without any signs of stopping.

Your pussy contracts around his cock, sucking him in deeper, hugging around him tightly which causing his hips to stutter their movements, a grunt slipping past his lips before he leans back, hands sliding down your waist to grip your thighs, keeping you locked against him as he watches you squeeze around his cock, desperate to be filled.

“Good girl. Keep doing that for me. Feels so good, baby.” Mark’s moaning under his breath, airy moans turning into whines as he feels your walls tighten around him, too overwhelmed by the feeling that he stills, a throating groan leaving his lips as he cums, filling you up just as planned.

Mark’s breathing heavily, mesmerised with the way he’s emptying himself inside you, watching his cock twitch with his spurt of cum that paints your walls. He doesn’t pull away until he’s certain there’s nothing left to give, wincing out of sensitivity as he slowly leans back to pull out of you, his spent cock bobbing against his thigh.

“What was that?” You breathe out, leaning up on your elbows as you look at him. “Where did that come from?”

“I don’t know,” Mark mumbles, cheeks blossoming a bright red as he refuses to meet your gaze, that shy and sweet persona falling back into place. But he can’t seem to tear his eyes away from your pussy, mouth open wide as his fingers delicately stroke over your puffy folds. “Was… was I too much?”

“No,” You quickly shake your head, reassuring him. “I liked it.”

“Yeah?” Mark hums, finally meeting your gaze and you smile at him, nodding your head this time and he sheepishly grins back, staring down at his fingers that circle around your entrance that leaks with his cum and he makes the sudden decision to push it back in, causing you to gasp and whine softly. “Sorry… I don’t want anything to go to waste.”

You laugh lightly at his words, “Go to waste?”

“Mhm,” Mark nods, retracting his fingers and staring at the cum that covers his digits, the dark expression taking over once again as he looks right at you, “I’m never wearing a condom again, you know that right, baby?”

©𝗠𝗥𝗞𝗜𝗦

[solarlunarsstuff]

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩

☆ Headcannons With Mike Schmidt ☆

Synopsis: This is basically abt Mike Schmidt cuz yes- (sfw and nsfw).

Tw: Dacryphilia, thigh riding, fingering, fluff n smut, switch!Mike, switch!Reader, manhandiling, orgasm denial, squirting, dumbification, and cuddling.

A/n: Abby also catches the bus in this lil drabble, ots also short I'm sorry :(, anyway. Enjoy this breedable man's hdcs!!! ♡♡

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

(SFW HDCS)

☆ First of all, you've both been friends for years, he had given you the keys to his house for the purpose of trusting you

☆ You got up early to check on him, but by that time Abby had already gotten to school by the bus

☆ You both would cuddle in the morning before he left for his agonizing night of work

☆ You would also cook for the poor man so he wouldn't be left on an empty stomach

☆ You've always remembered to give him goodbye kisses before he would start the car

☆ Once he got to work, he would always keep a picture of you in his wallet, either way, he loved how pretty you were

☆ Mike would slowly eat his lunch made from you.

☆ Every single type of affection you did to him would make him melt

☆ And once he got home he would shower you with kisses

☆ On the lips, hands, neck, anything would work for him as long as you were in his protective arms

☆ He even got a bit risky at the dinner table where Mike, Abby, and you.

☆ Mike would rest his hand on your thigh while you both would listen to Abby talk about her "friends" and drawings

☆ Abby started to stick on you, drawing you and Mike holding hands with some colorful background

☆ Mike has always loved you, ever since he saw you in preschool

☆ He may still be a bit nervous around you but still yet, he lived for your love

☆ He would often give you hugs from behind when your cooking with his bedhead, tank top, and sweats

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

(NSFW HDCS)

☆ Morning sex, all the way

☆ It's like you'll come to his house and he would act all needy and would beg for you to ride him

☆ This happens so much that you started to go dumb over his dick

☆ You would obviously agree and lose track of time and he ends up late for work

☆ Mike is so obsessed that near the end of his shift he would call you to check in but it would end up in phone sex

"Yeah, lemme' hear that fuckin' cunt-fuuuuckk"

☆ He would breathe out while his throbbing cock was laying in his calaused hands

"Go on. Finish f' me? Mhmm, that's it..."

☆ Mike would walk you through it and cooed at any noise that came out of your body

"Shiiiit- can't wait to break that fuckin' pussy when I get home.."

☆ Ohh boy, you knew he would absolutely fuck you up

☆ You also knew that when he gets home from shifts, he would get a bit madder each night

☆ You didn't mind, like at all.

☆ Mike was drilling his dick straight into your puffed up cunt, not letting up to let you breathe

☆ You've told him so many times that when he comes home mad you get a bit worried but he brushes it off

☆ Besides that, he loves when you take control too

☆ Having him not shutting up when he was being to loud

☆ Grabbing the opportunity to shove your panties in his mouth

☆ Mike is so far into bliss that he lolled his tongue out to let you spit in his mouth

☆ He calls you whore, you call him slut. Either or you both love degrading each other

☆ Even if he's not in the mood he'll let you hump his thigh so it's not as messy

☆ But it ends in him finger fucking you

"Aww, poor baby wants my fat cock in her? Well to fucking bad, deal with it you fucking whore.."

☆ Mike was the person that had founded your G-spot, making you squirt everytime but sometimes wouldn't let his poor baby finish :(

☆ He would always lick and suck it off of his fingers and helped you wash up

☆ He was the one that made you want more

☆ Mike Schmidt was the only man on earth that could make you come as hard on and around his cock

《☆♡☆》

[cherubshert]

Hiii, if you haven't already can you do morning's with enhypen? Like waking up needy to them, getting ready for the etc 🙏🙏

Sweet Mornings...

A/n: I'm sorry this took me a long time to finish, i was kinda hesitant to write this cause I don't write things like this, really cause it flusters me tbh. But ig I wanna step out a lil now that I'm an adult. I changed the request a little too tho, uhh. Just Hyung line, I would have written for sunoo and Jungwon as well, maybe next time if ppl like this one.

Warnings: Kissing, making out, Talks of engagements and fighting, suggestive but not going fully into it cause I'm a coward ig lol, angst(?). I got really excited with Hoonie's.

𔘓 Heeseung

The peaceful hug of sleep is harshly interrupted by the blaring of your boyfriend's alarm. You groan, struggling to move in his unwavering grasp, his chest still calmly moving signalling he's still deep in slumber. When your right hand is set free, you turn off the aggravating sound. You stare at the ceiling, using all of your strength to get out of Heeseung's hands.

When you return to the room, Heeseung is sitted at the edge of the bed, hunched over his phone, not looking up when you draw closer. "Did my alarm ring? I didn't hear it." "I did." You grumble, flopping down on the bed next to him, relaxing your back into it.

He gently rubs your thigh, "sorry, love." you groan at him, pressing your hands to your chest, your eyes closing. You feel him move, finding his way between your legs, his head resting on your chest. "I wanna sleep hee." " I'm not trying to stop you darling." You sigh, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

He gently shifts again, kissing up your neck, your fingers twitching slightly. "Hee." You gasp, letting your arms flop to the bed as he rises up. His fingers lace with yours, "Sorry, am I disturbing you?" He teased, you shake your head.

"Beautiful." he mutters, capturing your lips.

𔘓 Jay

Arguments with Jay were rare, but when they happened, they often left the both of you hurt. That was the case the night before, Jay's harsh words repeating in your mind as you slam your apartment door behind you. The darkness of the night engulfed you as you walked to god knows where to clear your mind. When you come home you're met with silence, the clock ticking in the background. 3:00 am.

You settle for the couch, using a soft plushie as a pillow, covering you body with your jacket.

You barely drift off when you're awakened by your body being hoisted up. Though you can't see him, your arms wrap around his neck, your soft breath brushing against his neck. Jay gently places you on your shared bed, his body hovering over you.

"I was so worried." he murmurs, you struggle to act like you don't care, the slight quiver in his voice causing your heart to squeeze in pain. "You didn't answer your phone, I went to check everywhere but I couldn't find you." a tear falls to your check, rolling off immediately. "My phone died." You answer, your right hand raising to wipe his tears. You sit in silence before his lips are pressed to yours, apologies slipping from his lips when he pulls away.

He is fully over you now, his lips kissing your skin gently, apologies following every press of his lips to your skin. Your fingers lace as the sun slowly starts to peek in.

𔘓 Jake

Jake plays with the subtle silver band on your finger, the dopey smile from the day before never wavering. Jake's eyes raising to meet yours excitedly, "I can't believe we're engaged." he repeats, you chuckle, pulling your hand away to rub your eyes. "You've said that all night." he wraps his hand around your waist, pulling you closer.

"I can't believe it... Can't believe you said yes." He leans in, pressing a wet kiss to your cheek. A giggle leaves you as you playfully push him away, wiping your face. "Maybe I should've said no, after all the stress you put me through all weekend. " He pouts, pulling you close to his chest, his hair tickling your skin.

"Sorry, I wanted it to be special, and memorable." you shun him playfully, crossing your hands over your chest, leaning your head away. He bites the space between your neck and jaw gently, a small yelp leaving your lips. "Yunnie!" He giggles into your neck, hands moving to your side, tickling you.

You laugh loudly, struggling to get out of his grasp. You turn your body slightly, hold his right arm tightly, both hands stopping in response. You pause to catch your breath, leaning forward towards his neck. He responds faster than you, pressing your arms to your chest, his body going to hover over you.

"I'm winning this one babe." you cock your eyebrow, tilting your head slightly. You bite your bottom lip, trailing your eyes down to his, your eyes looking back up into his. His stare intense, a slight blush rising to his face. "Really?" You take advantage of his loosening grip, reaching up to pull him down. Your lips dance with his, your tongue licks at his bottom lip, and he readily welcomes you, his hand gripping the sheets beside your head.

You pull away, leaning up more to bite his ear, giggling at the shakey sound he lets out. "I think I won Jakey."

𔘓 Sunghoon

You stir awake hearing a loud sound ring through your apartment, your heart pounding in your ear as you stay in your position waiting to see if anything else would come up. Your name catches your ear, though muffled, your previous fear flipping to happiness. You jump to your feet, forgetting your slippers, the cold tiles waking up your nerves more.

"Hoon?" He's barely visible, shifting his bags. He looks up and smiles, "Hey." You're in his arms almost a second later, he let's out a surprise laugh as he stumbles backwards. " Thought you were coming home tomorrow." you murmur into his neck, "Surprise~" he teases. He holds you for a second, before gently going to push your shoulders to see your face. Your head shakes in response, your grip not faltering, slowly growing drunk on his scent. "can I look at you? It's been months since I saw your face." "Please just hold me." He easily complies, both arms wrapping around you tightly.

You pull away from him eventually, his hand raises to your cheek. You finally scan his face fully, your face twisting with worry. "You look exhausted." he only smiles, "I am, a little." the last part comes out lightly and deep, your eyes trailing from his eyes to his lips before moving back. He leans in and you lean away, "You need to rest." "Hah, yeah." he pulls away, his hand reaching for his luggage.

Your hand lightly brushes his away, a short huff leaving you as your struggle to raise it. "You'll get hurt y/n, I got it." "I got it." You say dragging your feet towards your room. He watches you for a second, laughing silently to himself before reaching from his smaller duffle bag.

You're not sure when you both fell asleep, but his soft breath in your face now filled you with a certain warmth. The afternoon sun peeking in through your windows, adding warmth to your body. You brush his hair out of his face, your finger outlining his face before you lean in, pressing your lips gently to his. There's a slight pause before the ends curl up, shifting his face deeper into the pillow, his eyes opening to look at you.

"What a beautiful sight to wake up to." He murmurs, his deep voice ringing in your mind. You snicker, "I know." you whisper in response, your hand moving slightly down his neck, your eyes follow your fingers tracing his skin. "Missed you." you look up at him, you body growing hot as your take in the emotion evident on his face. "Me too." His hand trails down your waist, a trail of goosebumps following in his tracks, despite the layer of clothing keeping his hand from your skin. His cold hand on your warm skin makes you jolt slightly, your shirt raised slightly giving him access to your lower waist.

"Missed you so much you have no clue. you're such a distraction even when you're miles away." He teased. You grip at his shirt as he pulls you close, closing the distance between the both of you. He opens his mouth to speak again, and you immediately press your lips to his, his hand immediately going behind your head.

[eiightysixbaby]

12:25 A.M.

word count: 1.7k

summary: eddie calls you late one night while he’s looking at your photos…. ;)

cw: 18+ MINORS DNI - smut smut smut. this entire thing is just filth from the get-go, sorry not sorry. lots of swearing, eddie & reader masturbate over the phone, lots of dirty talking - eddie and reader are bein nastyyyyy, daddy kink on the low, mention of explicit photos/nudes, if I forgot anything lmk!

author’s note: yeah so uhhhh the eddie sluts discord was having a convo about eddie keeping dirty polaroids of you and thus, this piece of filth was born. i’m so serious there’s barely a plot this is just nastiness, enjoy!!! also: the photos in the photo set above are not meant to represent what reader looks like - they’re just aesthetically pleasing.

*Rriiiiiiiing Rriiiiiiing*

The sound of the phone startles you from your half-asleep state. You’d unintentionally almost fallen asleep sitting up in your bed, television still playing softly in the background. You rub your bleary eyes and turn to the clock as you grab the phone. 12:25am. Who would be calling at this hour?

“Hello?” you say into the receiver, voice a little groggy.

“Hey, sweets. I’m sorry for calling so late,” you hear your boyfriend’s voice on the other end.

“Eds, hi. What’s up, are you alright?” you sit more alert now, wondering why he’s calling you after midnight.

“I’m fine sweet thing, just had a long day at work and I missed you,” his voice sounds breathy, not his usual tone of voice. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“I had kind of dozed off, but it’s fine. What are you up to over there, baby?” you ask him, curling the phone cord around your fingers.

“Oh, y’know… just looking through those sexy Polaroids I took of you. Touching myself a little bit,” you can hear the smirk in his voice, and you feel yourself shudder a little at his words.

Throughout the time you’ve been dating Eddie, he’s gathered quite the collection of explicit photos of you. He loves to take pictures of you in all sorts of positions, snapping shots of you naked on his bed, you split wide open on his cock, you sticking your tongue out while he presses his cock to your mouth, one of your face covered in his cum. You’ve even taken some of your own to sneak into his stash, photos of your tits squished together, or your fingers buried deep in your cunt. Eddie loves them, he looks at them all the time. He keeps the safe-for-work photos of you in his wallet and in his car, but the raunchy ones sit in a box under his bed - for his eyes only.

“Touching yourself to little old me, handsome?” you tease him, pulling your lip between your teeth.

“Fuck yeah baby, it’s like I’ve got my own personal porn star to look at, how could I resist?”

Your cheeks heat up at his response, and you clench your thighs together involuntarily. You know what he wants, know he needs to get off, so you take the bait.

“Mm, wish I was there to touch you instead, Eddie,” you giggle, feeling heat rush to your core at the thought of him spread out in bed, jerking his cock to you.

“Shit, baby, you know I love your hands on me,” there’s a pause, and then, “What are you wearing right now, sweets?”

“One of your t-shirts, you know - the blue and black tie dye one, and a pair of black panties….” you speak slowly, drawing out the words.

“No bra?” he asks, his voice husky.

“No bra, baby. In fact, you can see my nipples through the fabric of the shirt….” you trail off, knowing what you’re doing to him. One of your hands reaches up to toy with your breasts as you speak, as if you’re doing him a favor by touching the parts of you that he can’t right now.

“Fuuuuuuck, I need my hands on you baby. Wish I was there with you right now,” you can detect the strain in his voice, can faintly hear the schlick schlick of his hand moving up and down his cock.

It only turns you on further, and you slowly slip your fingers beneath the waistband of your panties, ghosting circles over your clit. “Mmm, Eds, I need you here right now,” your voice is seductive, pleading.

“Yeah, baby? What would you have me do if I was there with you?” Eddie purrs.

“I’d have you finger my soaking pussy…. two fingers, maybe three… need you to stretch me out,” you’re dipping your own fingers past your entrance as you get the words out, your fingers not reaching even close to the places Eddie’s can reach. “I love when you curl your fingers inside me, you know how to play with me, baby.”

“Fuck yeah I do, sweetheart, shit-” Eddie grunts, and you can tell he’s picking up his pace on his cock. “Wish I was fingering you, hitting that spot you love, getting those pretty sounds out of you-”

“Please, baby, love how you touch me…” you’re begging even though he’s not there with you.

“Would you suck my cock for me, baby? Fit my fat cock down your throat, hm?” he continues on, and his words have your head spinning. Imagining his fingers inside you instead of your own as you work to get yourself off. You’ve never engaged in phone sex before this, really, but with Eddie it feels so natural. It’s a different kind of turn-on to hear him talk to you while you know he’s got his thick fingers around his cock, pretending that it’s you.

“Y-yes, daddy. Love having your cock in my mouth, need you to fuck my face…” you’re practically moaning into the phone, head lolling backwards. “Wanna taste you, please Eddie please…”

“That’s my good fucking girl, need to cum in that pretty mouth of yours, baby. Love when you swallow my load,” his breath is staggered as he speaks through gritted teeth. “Are you touching yourself for me, baby? Got your fingers deep in that pussy?”

“Yeah, ‘m so wet for you, Eds. Doesn’t feel as good as when you do it, though,” you pout, pumping your fingers in and out of your pussy, the coil in your stomach tightening gradually.

“Aw, I know sweet thing. Need daddy to take care of you, yeah?” Eddie knows exactly how to talk to you to send you reeling, your eyes screwing shut as you finger yourself, movements growing sloppier.

“Yeah babe, fuck, need you inside me. Want you so bad,” your fingers have set a brutal pace fucking into your dripping cunt, and you're almost positive Eddie can hear how soaked you are as you please yourself.

“Got me rock fucking hard for you, baby, can you hear me stroking my cock to your pretty pictures?” he taunts, but you absolutely can hear the filthy noises in the background - quieting your moans so you can listen better.

There’s a beat, and then you hear him spit into his hand, the sloshing sounds picking up speed and intensity as he presumably starts to pump his cock faster. You plunge your fingers as deep as they’ll go inside of you, curling them desperately to hit that delicious soft spot.

“Yes, fuck, it’s so fucking hot listening to you touch yourself for me,” you’re breathing heavy as you work yourself to orgasm, “Wish my fingers were wrapped around your dick right now.”

“Mmmhhh, I love when you wrap those delicate little hands around me, baby. I’m so big they barely hold me, princess,” he’s smirking as he speaks, loves riling you up thinking about the size of him.

“Yeah, Eds, you’re s’fucking big. Love how you fill me up, daddy,” he revels in the praise, and you hear him chuckle on the other end.

“My little cockslut, loves getting stretched by me, hm?” Eddie’s voice is low, sending electricity right to your core. “Shit, baby, my cock’s twitching just thinking about you… ‘M so worked up.”

“Want you to cum for me, Eds. Are you close? Love it when you cum for me,” you’re whining, fingers now circling your clit in rapid movements, getting closer and closer to your release.

“So close, sweetheart, wish I could cum all over that pretty face of yours,” Eddie moans into the speaker, little whispers of shitshitshit falling from his lips. “This picture’s one of my favorites, baby… my cock buried deep in your pussy from behind… my hand gripping your hair. Pretty ass of yours on perfect display f’me, fuck-” he’s tugging desperately on his cock at this point, whimpering into the phone.

“What about the one with me in handcuffs? Legs spread on your bed, waiting for you?” you hum, egging him on, getting him right to the edge of release as you describe the lewd photo.

Eddie doesn’t answer, just lets out a strangled moan on the other end of the line. The two of you go on like that for a little, mewls slipping past your lips, getting wetter as you listen to him cursing, panting, moaning your name. The soft pads of your fingers work on your clit, your insides feeling like they’re on fire with how worked up you are. Your eyes are shut tight, imagining Eddie settling you on his lap as he fucks up into you.

“Baby - fuck - I’m gonna fucking cum, shit,” Eddie whines, bringing you back to reality for a moment.

“Cum for me, baby, make a mess of yourself for me,” you coax him, listening closely to hear the way his breath hitches as he finally lets go.

His moans are short and sporadic as he finishes all over his chest and stomach, and you continue to rub your swollen clit as he catches his breath.

“How you doing over there? Gonna cum for me, sweet girl? Gonna cum while you think about me? Bet you wish I was filling you up real good, huh?” Eddie’s relentless, talking you through the entire thing.

“Yes, daddy - fuck! Gonna cum, gonna cum for you, oh my god…” the coil in your stomach snaps finally, feeling yourself plummet into bliss. You’re clenching around nothing, moaning ‘EddieEddieEddie’ as you ride out the intense waves of pleasure coursing through you.

“That’s my good girl, you okay sweet thing?” Eddie coos, listening to you pant as your body calms down.

“Yeah, baby, I’m good. How’re you?” you say softly into the phone once you’ve regained some composure, body spent as you lay back onto your pillows. You feel like you’re floating.

“I made a fuckin’ mess of myself, sweetheart, came so hard,” Eddie huffs a laugh, and you smile.

“Hey, Eds?”

“Yeah, sweets?”

“Take a Polaroid of you all messy with your cum. Wanna start a photo collection of my own,” you chew at your lip, getting flustered thinking about how he must look right now.

“Oh, yeah? And why do you want my photos, sweetheart? Wanna get yourself off to them?” Eddie asks, knowing the answer but wanting to hear it from you.

“Maybe….” you giggle, suddenly feeling shy.

“Fuck, baby. Can I come stay the night? I need to be inside you right now, no way I can wait till tomorrow,” you can picture the puppy dog eyes Eddie would be giving you if he was next to you right now, and you laugh.

“Yeah, Eds, get over here. Gotta live up to all that talk,” you reply, knowing he’s gonna live up to that talk and then some.

“Want me to bring the camera?” he asks.

“Duh.”

[kittykat-25]

HOME- An S.Coups Fic

Pairing: Seungcheol x Reader

Genre: Comfort, Scoups savings the day

Synopsis: you’ve never had an issue with hiding your relationship with Seungcheol but he does when your ex gets a little too close.

A/N: me being completely WHIPPED for Choi Seungcheol. This is my first Seventeen Fic so I hope you enjoy🥹

The SVT men’s POV here

The car ride home/Epilogue here

Sitting at dinner with your friends from your home town whom you haven’t seen since you moved almost a year ago. You glared at your so called best friend; Tori, she raised her eyebrow at you in question. You cut your eyes to the man sitting beside you, a little too close for comfort. Your ex, who you were not told was coming on this trip smiles at you. You force a smile and turn to glare at your friend. “Your hairs longer.” He said twirling a strand of your hair between his fingers. “Yeah hair grows out in a year.” You mumbled pulling your head away. “How do you like living in Seoul?” Another friend asked. “I love it, I love the fast pace and the friends I’ve made are incredible, learning the language was a hard start but you pick it up fast.” You friend scoffs, “tell us more about this boyfriend of yours? We don’t even know his name.” You smile as Cheols face fills your mind, “he’s amazing,I’m sorry he couldn’t be here tonight.” You missed your best friend roll her eyes. You jump feeling a hand brush your thigh, grazing the skin where your dress ends. You look over and find your ex smirking at you, shoving his hand away. “Stop.” You said quiet enough to not draw attention. He chuckled and leans back and your friends pepper you with more questions.

A while later you’ve had enough of the constant touches and sly comments from your ex. You excuse yourself and walk towards the bathroom pulling your phone out pressing the first contact in your recents, “Choi Seongcheols phone, the other love of his life speaking!” Rings out as Jeonghan; you and Cheols best friend answers, his voice bringing you small amount of comfort.” Hannie,-“ you are quickly cut off.” Y/n, why are you being such a bitch tonight.” You mute Jeonghan and turn towards your old friend, “excuse me?” You ask, “you are being so rude to him, bringing up a boyfriend that probably doesn’t even exist, you broke his heart and then fled the country. Give him a break.” You laugh, though there’s no humor behind it. “I broke his heart, he cheated on me. He needs to get over it. It’s the consequences of his actions.” You add, “and you asked about My love life. I told you already I was seeing someone. You chose to do that.” You snapped back. “Oh please, we both know you don’t actually have a boyfriend. You just want to make it seem like you have it together over here. When clearly you are losing it.“ Tori scoffs, you roll your eyes, “Fuck you.” Tori’s jaw drops a little, stunned by your reaction. “You’ve turned into a real bitch since you moved. You never use to treat me this way.” You rolled your eyes, “I apologize that me no longer being a push over inconveniences you.” She stomps by and you let out an exhale before turning your attention back to the phone call. “Y/n” Jeonghan started, “please come get me.” You sigh into the phone. “CHEOL” you hear another friend yell, Joshua by the sounds of it. “Where are you?” He asked as you hear shoes being thrown on. The voice of your boyfriend coming to life in the background. “Baby? What happened?” He ground out, worry laced in his words. You heard the car door shut, multiple voices pilling in. “Her friends are dicks, did they tell you your ex was going to be here.” Jeonghan said gruffly. “No.” your voice said shakily. “He won’t stop making comments and- touching me.” You add quieter. You hear an exhale and know it’s Cheol. “He touched you?” A deeper voice asked kindly but you can hear the venom that’s not normally there, Wonwoo. “I’m interrupting guys night, I’m so sorry.” You apologized when you processed all the voices you had heard. “Don’t you dare apologize for calling me when you need me baby.” your boyfriend exclaimed, “We’re five minutes away y/n. We’ll see you soon.” Jeonghan calls to you before the call ends.

You put on a brave face and walk back to the table. Your ex takes him time racking his eyes over you, bile rising in your throat. But your old friend was right, you had changed since you moved. You were no longer timid and shy. Being best friends and dating the leader of Seventeen will do that to a person. Hard to be scared when 13 guys have your back, the few men on their way proving that point. You never told your friend you were dating Cheol, she was a fan and you didn’t need the rumors starting, you had been very careful with your relationship. Only Pledis and your families knew. And yet here he comes to rescue you, the guilt of what this will publicly do starts the make you panic. Worsening as you sat down, your exes hand came down on your thigh. You shoved him off, “do not touch me.” You stated. Loud enough for the three others to hear. He laughed, “there’s no harm in it y/n.” You glare at him, “there is when I said stop. Multiple times now.” Your other friends chuckle, “yall bicker like a married couple.” Tori says with a smile. “It’s not bickering when he crosses boundaries.” You snap. You look into the reflection of the mirror on the wall, breathing a sigh of relief when you see the familiar black car of your boyfriend pull up. Your grin falters when you feel the weight of a hand on your thigh again. You shove him hand off and onto the table, not even thinking before grabbing the steak knife as well. Stabbing it into the table between his fingers. “Touch me again and it’ll go through your hand.” Venom dripped from your voice, your exes face turned sour, his hand rearing back before it was caught in a thigh grip. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Cheol spat, shaving him away from you. Tori gasped when she realized who was behind you, his hand out reached for you to take. You grabbed your purse and slid your hand into his, pulling you gently to your feet, you looked behind him to find Jeonghan standing behind Cheol, Joshua, Wonwoo and Mingyu standing a few feet away. A hard look on their faces, “please take her to the car.” He called back, you walked towards your friends, smirking at Cheols dominance. You made it to the door of the restaurant when you turned back, Cheol leaning down saying something to your old friends making their faces pale. He straightened up, face hard but completely melting into a soft smile for you. Taking your hand and leading you to the car, putting the restaurant and your old friends in the past.

A/n: sooo I might post a pt2 of some sorts. Maybe from Jeonghan’s POV but I hope you enjoyyy

[highvern]

Patterns II

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x fem!reader

Genre: smut (18+), eventual fluff/angst

Summary: Once is happenstance. Twice is coincidence. Three times is a pattern. So what does it mean when you find yourself in Wonwoo's bed over and over again?

Chapter Warnings: exhibitionism, fingering, hand job, dry humping, oral (face sitting), lots of teasing/minor degradation if you squint, overstimulation, breath play

Length: ~9.9k

Note: part 2 is here, let's goooooo! thanks for being so patient and thank you @millennial-fangirl and @idyllic-ghost for beta-ing!

Remember: Tumblr runs on reblogs and I run on validation in the tags and comments :)

m.list + support my work

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked!

Avoiding Wonwoo post D-Day, as Amina calls it, proves to be surprisingly easy. An entire week of back to back meetings leaves you blocking off parts of your calendar just to use the bathroom. And according to the grapevine, there’s been zero proof of life from Wonwoo’s end either which has caused Mingyu to break out in hives. 

But as the weekend draws closer you’re given the greatest gift the universe can bestow.

“Monday is a disconnect day for the client which means all of us are on black out. No emails, no phone calls, nothing.” Mona announces in the team huddle.

Tears of joy bead in your eyes at the news. However, it's short lived.

“We’ll need to hit the ground running when we come back so make sure everything is done Friday. Even if you have to stay late. Understand?” 

Your laptop pings with a message in the corner.

Gerard: how does she make free PTO sound like hell?

Y/N: i think she said it was her special talent when we did ice breakers at the beginning of the project

Gerard: oh yeah right after she said she hates puppies

Y/N: and joy

Mona slaps her own computer shut, sending you ten feet in the air before continuing, “If there isn’t anything else. We can wrap this up. Shoot me a message if there are any questions.” 

“And how will you be spending your new found free time?” You ask.

Gerard holds the door open as you walk past, “The way the universe intends. In bed, sleeping. Maybe I’ll finally unpack my suitcase from the last trip Mona dragged me on.”

“Wasn’t that like, a month ago?” You ask.

“And?”

The rest of the day is a blur, rushing from meeting to meeting with barely enough time to breathe. It’s only the end of the day that grants you the next glimpse at the world outside the dreary office walls. Albeit through the bright screen of your cell phone.

Once back at your desk, you unlock your phone to find several unread messages. Several from Amina document her jealousy that you and Lisa have long weekends. Lisa offers to kick Mingyu off the long planned trip to the adorable bed and breakfast she found for their anniversary. 

Amina 🍑💗: FREE ME FROM THE SHACKLES OF CORPORATE AMERICA

Y/N: Your honor free her!!!

Lisa 👁️🫦👁️: Girls trip! Girls trip! Girls trip!

Lisa 👁️🫦👁️: mingyu will understand 

Y/N: I am begging you to go have gross emotional sex somewhere other than our apartment

Lisa 👁️🫦👁️: we’ve done it plenty of places that arent the apartment :) 

Y/N: whore

But a separate thread unleashes a coldsnap in your veins.

Wonwoo (lisa bf roommate): forgot to give these back…

Attached is a photo. A familiar swatch of cotton contrasting with the rich navy of his blanket in the background. His long fingers grip the hem, involuntarily jolting memories of them curled around your body.

Upon realizing you’re sitting out in the open staring at a picture of your panties, you hastily lock your phone and shove it into the deep recesses of your purse. Thank the stars no one else was around to glimpse the crude picture or the sudden sweat along your brow. How dare Wonwoo’s first attempt at speaking to you post hook up be a picture of your underwear in the middle of the work day. Who did he think he was?

Overcoming the initial embarrassment that floods your system, you decide to ignore his bid for attention. If you ignored him then he wouldn’t know the power he held. Plain and simple.

—

The next few days fly past without incident. Wonwoo remains silent and allows you to fall back into forgetting his existence.

As Friday hurdles forward, the usual shenanigans of bar hopping is replaced by plans for a movie night. You aren’t the only one suffering from sleep deprivation; Amina’s job ran her into the ground, and same with Lisa’s. 

The idea fills you with dread, spurred by yearning to spend every moment of free time to catch up on sleep. But knowing your friends, the probability of successfully ditching is on the negative side of zero, especially since you’ve barely spoken to one another all week and they’d both be out of town for the weekend.

The atmosphere of the office is sullen. Late Friday afternoons are reserved for pretending to work and gossiping. Unless you work for your team. In which case, you’ve spent the past hour agonizing over different powerpoint transitions and if they convey professionalism yet approachable.

A throat clearing behind you breaks your trace.

“Okay, I need to go home.” 

Looking up from your laptop, an aura of visible graveness radiates from Gerard. His theater minor really came in handy.

“Why?” You ask skeptically. 

Gerard was nice. But he wasn’t that nice.

“Because I’m already going to be stuck here all night.” He sighs. “And there’s no point in both of us suffering. You have the report ready?”

“Yeah, I just need to make a new powerpoint and get it finalized.”

“Then let me handle it. Mona wants me to re-do the other report you need for the deck so I’ll make it when I’m done.”

Hands moving of their own volition, you shove your scattered belongings into your purse. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.” He groans. “If I need something I’ll call. Now go. Be free.”

He shoos you without another word, diving into his own computer. Before Gerard can change his mind you’re in the elevator and own your way home.

Thirty minutes later, you find Amina and Lisa already in the midst of a full apartment clean up. A 2000s playlist blasts from the speaker on the counter while Amina shoots daggers at the furniture in the living room.

“Do you think we should move the couch?” Amina shouts at your entrance.

Her lips move but you can’t hear anything over the blasting noise. “Huh?” 

“The couch!” She repeats after cutting off the sound.

You nod before realizing you're still in work clothes. Rushing to your room, you quickly change into something more presentable.

When you return, Lisa is in the kitchen putting away dishes. You and Amina descend on the living room, heads bobbing in sync to the music while you work. Under combined efforts, the space shifts from wild disarray to sparkling clean in no time. 

Moving in sync, you both work to tetter the furniture into different arrangements. It takes four attempts before she throws her hands up, accepting defeat and moving to the counter to join Lisa. You fail to silence a half hearted cheer before flopping down onto the soft cushions of the sofa.

“Who said they were coming again?” Amina asks, her head resting on her arms crossed in front of her on top of the cool marble.

“Mingyu, Soonyoung, Eva,” Lisa pauses as she scrolls through her texts to find confirmation. “Wonwoo.” 

Both Amina and Lisa snap their necks to pointedly look at you.

Much to your own disappointment, your cheeks heat. Avoiding the scrutinous gazes of your roommates, you roll off the couch and busy yourself with replacing the pillows and blankets Amina tossed aside earlier.

“Have you talked to him at all?” Amina questions, walking over to reorganize the coffee table, sweeping their trinkets and books away for the drinks and food that would soon be spread atop it.

“Nope.”

“He hasn’t texted you or you haven’t responded?” Amina’s eyebrows furrow, as if Wonwoo’s silence is the most confusing thing between you two.

“He hasn’t texted.” You lie, pulling at a frayed thread at the corner of the pillow.

Lisa joins the effort, folding blankets and organizing them in piles. “Well that’s lame.”

“I’m sorry? Weren't you the one who threatened to kill him?”

Lisa rolls her eyes. “So? A girl can’t be dramatic?” 

“There’s dramatic and then there’s you.” Amina chimes.

“Whatever.” Lisa scoffs before looking at you. “Wonwoo’s cool but if he ghosted you then he’s a loser.” 

You shrug before responding, “It was just a one time thing. It’s not like I was reaching out to him either.”

“I thought you said he was good?” Amina asks with round eyes.

“He was but it was just a one time thing. Let’s not make it weird, okay?” You wait until they both nod before continuing. “What time is everyone coming?” 

“Around seven, I think?” Lisa throws the question to Amina.

“Yeah, seven.” Amina answers, eyeing the furniture again. 

Glancing at your phone you spot the time, 4:46PM. Perfect. 

“I’m gonna shower and take a nap,” You call, heading down the hall.

Once in the bathroom, you undress as the water warms to a tolerable temperature. Finding it suitable, you make to enter but the dig of your phone distracts you. The screen illuminates and you spot a familiar name.

Wonwoo (lisa bf roommate): I was planning on coming with mingyu tonight but if you don’t want me to I'll hang back

Wonwoo (lisa bf roommate): I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything

Strange as it may be, you're oddly endeared by his consideration. But his last messages sit on the screen just above and cut the warmth short.

Y/N: and yet there’s a picture of you holding my panties that says the opposite

Y/N: im not spooked so easily

Locking your phone, you jump in the shower. The hot water lulls away the anticipation flooring through your veins. It didn’t have to be weird. Tonight would prove it.

The short nap leaves you disoriented but the laughter of friends draws you out from the covers. Bravely, you change out of pajamas into more presentable pajamas consisting of sweats and a sweatshirt. Once settled, you slide into the hall and meet company. 

Turning the corner and entering the kitchen, you scan the group. Eva and Soonyoung sit across the counter, both of them smiling your way. Amina is fussing about, attempting to organize the drinks spread across the counter into some kind or order. An expensive bottle of liquor Mingyu no doubt supplied sits in the middle like a prize, however he’s nowhere to be seen along with his roommate and girlfriend. You try to assist Amina but the space between the island counter and the stove is barely large enough for one body, let alone two. Amina shoos you away after barely a minute.

A trio of voices echo down the hallway.

“Every project he doesn’t want to do just gets thrown on me.” A deep voice complains. “I don’t even know what his actual job is.” 

The timber sends electricity down your spine. You try not to stare as Wonwoo steps into the light of the kitchen trailing behind Lisa. Apparently Wonwoo, Mingyu, and Lisa were tasked with food duty; however, Lisa's hands are completely empty. A stark contrast to Wonwoo and Mingyu behind her balancing several stacked boxes between them. 

You exchange a brief friendly smile with Wonwoo, before he continues with Mingyu. Shoulders sagging, your relief is only momentary. The weight of your friends watching the interaction is unbearable, despite everyone being wrapped in their own conversations. Lisa and Amina argue over the best order to organize everything while Mingyu sets about actually arranging the boxes. Soonyoung and Eva exchange gossip at the counter, their own laughter slicing through the air above them.

Pouring yourself a drink, you snatch the pitcher next to Eva, no doubt containing one of her deadly concoctions. Filling the glass halfway, you take a sip. Fruit and spicy sweetness tingling on your tongue followed by the warmth of cinnamon. The slight burn is masked with a deceptive tang of citrus. It goes down much too easily for the amount of alcohol Eva includes in her drinks. You estimate it’ll take two servings before you’re asleep against the arm of the sofa. Empting the glass, you pour another helping and cast off from the counter. 

Heading into the living room, you beeline for a spot on the sofa before anyone can object. Despite Amina’s attempts earlier, a few people would have to take to the floor and you refuse to be one of them.

“Alright everyone, come eat.” Amina calls in the small space.

You forgo the pizza for now. There would be plenty after everyone settled. Wrapping in one of the large fleece blankets, you burrow down into the sofa. Bending your knees, your legs cross while you lean back into the seam between the plush cushion and armrest, head perfectly positioned to see the television. 

Your cup empties before anyone comes to join you. Lisa and Mingyu squash into the recliner on the other side of the living room, the shabby chair groaning any time their weight shifts. You hope it's enough of a deterrent for their determined wandering hands. Many movie nights had been ruined because of their less than family friendly activities. Amina settles in front of the coffee table amongst the pile of cushions and thick blankets. Eva and Soonyoung curl up on the loveseat against the wall.

Wonwoo crashes down into the space next to you, sending a tight lipped smile at your responding frown. His legs spread apart as he leans forward to eat. Your shin brushes against his thigh through the blanket but fatigue prevents any sort of reaction beyond registering the presence of his body. 

Someone knocks out the lights and your eyes cement shut. The horror movie Lisa chose begins, lights from the screen dancing across your eyelids. It's a shallow rest at best, allowing you to catch snippets of dialogue from the characters and muffled whispers from your friends. But it’s like being underwater, senses dull as you experience it all from far far away.

You even forget about Wonwoo until he leans back into the cushions. The contact from his thigh breaking when he props his legs on the coffee table. A particularly loud scream comes from the TV but it's Wonwoo’s voice that startles you.

“Mind sharing?” He whispers, asking for permission despite already lifting the corner of the blanket draped over your knee.

You shake your head, nuzzling further into the armrest and away from temptation.

Wonwoo untucks the fold of the blanket from under your legs, stretching it across his lap. The heat of his side radiates into you even more. Even in your lethargic state the hyper awareness refuses to fade. It stokes a part of you wishing to move onto his lap and work you both back into the blissful high of a few nights ago. But you refuse to acknowledge the craving to dive into him, press your face into the front of his sweater and allow the beat of his heart to lull you into a rest.

You're fully aware all you need to do to get the first thing is let him give it to you. You were the one who ran away, shunned his attempts for a repeat, ignored him. Wonwoo provided several opportunities for a repeat of Friday night, now it was up to you to accept his invitation. 

But try as you might not to care, the dread of what your friends will think rears its head. It's a cop out; no one really cares that it's Wonwoo, only happy you’re finally getting laid again. 

You need to act before your nerve fades but in a room packed full of watchful eyes you’re unsure how to proceed. Feigning a yawn, your eyes pry open to lazily scan the room. Soonyoung has Eva between his legs, her back resting against his chest.. From where you are sitting it's evident they both have their eyes glued to the screen, Eva takes movie night too seriously to allow any funny business. Amina slouched down enough you can no longer see the top of her curly hair. Cautiously swiping at Lisa and Mingyu, it takes only a second before you look away. Thankfully Eva insists on blasting the TV volume to a deafening decibel. 

The movement of Wonwoo’s chest, lulled by the shallow rises and falls, clarifies in the fliting light of the screen. More memories of flushed skin shuddering with ragged breaths come to the forefront. Following the curve of his throat to the arch of his jaw, you find Wonwoo already staring back from the corner of his eye.

He arches an eyebrow, challenging and curious. It demolishes whatever resolve you possess to not look away. Instead, you focus back on the movie while untangling your legs and resting them on the coffee table next to his, ankles crossing under the blanket. The sudden motion leaves the entire span of your right leg flush with his left, a comforting warmth spreading between the layers of thick fabric between.. 

In the haste, the top of the blanket falls down to your lap. You tug it back up swiftly, wanting the layer to conceal your next action from the rest of the world. Satisfied with re-arranganged fabric, your hand doesn’t return to its previous home in your lap. Instead, it rests in the small stretch of space between you and Wonwoo, allowing your shoulders to brush lightly and her fingers to ghost along his thigh.

The heat of his sideways gaze continues to heat your cheeks despite your attempt at playing oblivious. Shifting closer, you pause; Wonwoo doesn’t take the opportunity to move away. Instead, he presses back. Some twisted part inside your mind relishes in victory.

Wonwoo’s left arm slouches down from its place on top of the cushion, joining yours in the space under the camouflage of the blanket. The back of your hands timidly brush before he extends his arm. It's sweet for a moment; shy and coy. But Wonwoo doesn’t allow you to sink into the gesture because his hand rests on top of your thigh and squeezes.

Thankfully you’re far enough back that no one can see unless they turn their neck so far it almost snaps off. Even then, the thick fabric of the blanket doesn’t give away what's happening underneath. The only clues are your labored breath and the shit eating grin threatening to split Wonwoo’s lips. The two couples on either side of the room are in far more compromising positions but with Wonwoo’s hand so high on your leg, you might as well be nude.

Calloused fingertips begin tracing across the inside of your thigh, just above your knee. Without thinking, your ankles uncross, letting your legs part slightly to grant him more space. A wince escapes between Wonwoo’s teeth from your nails digging into his own thigh.

Wonwoo’s hands are lazy in their journey upwards. Fingers massaging firmly against the supple skin, pulling at the flesh with a fraction of the intensity he’s capable of. His thumb kneads into cords of muscle, working out the knots he detects along the way. When he grazes the edge of the large bruise, you stiffen.

Most of the hickies he gifted that night healed, some already disappearing completely. The one he’s prodding now stubbornly remained, much to your mortification. With the irritated skin still sore to the touch, you were constantly reminded of its presence each time you moved. In your peripheral, Wonwoo turns his head. A downward twitch of your jaw motions for him to continue.

The scene on the TV is almost pitch black, throwing the room into a similar darkness. Wonwoo makes use of the cover and creeps his hand past the waistband of your sweats. He lets his palm rest against the lower part of your stomach, the pleasant warmth seeping in, soothing the nerves. The respite is short lived when his long middle finger traces along the elastic of your panties, teasing the skin under the band.

Sweat blooms on your brow and your breath grows stunted. It's embarrassing how worked up he has you. Barely twenty minutes into the movie, less than five of Wonwoo’s touch and yet the distinct wetness between your legs swells. But rather than relief, Wonwoo waits. And he waits. And he waits.

What is he waiting for? You think.

Eventually the movie will end, signaling your friends to get up. The second any of them spared a glance at your corner of the room everything will become clear and exactly what takes place under the blanket will become easily decipherable.

But there is nothing you can do to make Wonwoo’s hand dip lower and feel the dampness he spurred. Attempting to distract yourself from suffering, you switch focus on controlling your breath. Counting slowly to four while inhaling, holding for another four, and then exhaling in the same measure. Even your hand on Wonwoo’s thigh follows the rhythm. 

Mouth watering at the tense flex of the muscle under your fingers, you indulge in the visual of his room again. This time, he’s in nothing but his sweatpants, shirt nowhere to be seen. Red nail marks marr his chest and his hair is wild. You’re perched in his lap, completely naked and grinding against the evident bulge, dripping a wet spot on to the gray fabric. Wonwoo would watch while you used his body to get off, his hands tearing into the sheets. Fantasy Wonwoo would beg. He’d beg to kiss you, beg to touch you. Nothing like the devil sitting next to you, forcing you to plead for every once pleasure. 

Next time Wonwoo would beg. But patience was never a virtue you took pride in. 

Your hand wanders higher, finding exactly what you knew you would. Everything in you fights against grinning like the cat who got the canary. Despite the fact that you haven't really touched, Wonwoo is half hard. Even more satisfying is how he strains against his pants with only a few teasing passes.

He releases a heavy sigh when you push against him a little more firmly. Breaking attention from the movie, you sneak a peek at his reaction.

Wonwoo’s features are void of emotion. No matching bead of sweat at his temple and the heat you feel on your cheeks fails to present itself on his. Not even a wrinkle across his forehead. He almost looks…bored. It's a stark contrast to what you can feel under her palm.

But then you look closer and discover a discrete clench of his jaw and the minute flare of his nostrils. A glimpse at his neck highlights the stiff muscles, taunt like he’s fighting to break out of his own skin. You can’t stop looking. Subtle as the signs are, Wonwoo is just as much of a mess as you are. The only difference being he’s better at concealing it. 

Wonwoo continues to play with the band of your underwear, content to pull the elastic and let it snap against your skin, providing no solace. It's maddening but gives you a chance to brace for his next move. He really only has two options, pull his hand away and end the game. Or push his fingers down further and indulge. 

When a deafening scream blasts the TV prompts everyone to jump, he strikes. Wonwoo’s fingers wedge in the tight space between your legs. The sudden intrusion makes your thighs clench, a detrimental mistake since it forces the heel of his palm applying pressure to your clit. He wastes no time before prodding against the soaking fabric curiously. Extending his fingers downward, Wonwoo teases at your entrance through your  underwear. You could cry at the relief but control yourself, lip nearly splitting from biting back a squeak. You’d sell your soul to the devil if it meant you could be alone, sitting on his lap as he talks you through it, whispering for you to be good while he stretched you over his cock again and again. 

But that's impossible. So you’ll settle for this.

Your friends are none the wiser while you build each other up under the blankets. When you stuff your hand under Wonwoo’s waistband, you find out he is certainly not wearing underwear. Immediately you take advantage, letting your thumb graze against the weeping tip. The angle doesn’t allow for a smooth so you play with the head, letting catch on his slit to over and over. Each pass earns you a shudder of his stomach against the back of your forearm.

Wonwoo pushes aside the thin strip of your underwear, two fingers tracing your entrance before dipping inside, curling up to his middle knuckle. It’s hardly enough to get off but the threat of getting caught spawns more and more arousal. At this rate, your sweatpants will be sporting a wet patch if they aren’t already.

She’s so fucking wet. Wonwoo thinks, the revelation sending a shot of want straight to his cock. He curses whatever he did in a past life preventing him from hauling you into your room and burying himself inside your cunt until he passes out. The irony of the position isn’t lost on him. Wonwoo waited all week for a green light and of course you decided to give it to him in the middle of a packed room with a dozen prying eyes and ears. But he isn’t one to shy away from a challenge. If you want him to get you off under the blanket, then he’s more than happy to rise to the challenge.

Wonwoo repositions his hand, allowing his fingers to play with your clit, abandoning the shallow thrust at your entrance. When his fingernail scrapes delicately over the bundle of nerves, a whimper breaks from through your parted lips and almost blows their cover. 

The movie, unlike you or Wonwoo, is at its climax. Loud screams and distorted music occupy the attention of everyone in the room. But still, you both pause, frozen and waiting for a sign someone heard. Wonwoo debates pulling away. He’d seen the film before, and while his mind struggles to remember the plot he knows there's simply not enough time left before the credits roll and the illusion is shattered. 

Brain riddled with hormones and lust, Wonwoo faces an impossible choice. Call timeout and hope you’re generous enough to give him another chance. Or, he can make the most of the opportunity literally at hand and pray he’s fast enough. 

He’d already waited an entire week, what was another day? And if he waited then maybe he’d get to fuck you properly, away from any onlookers. Where you can sing all the noises that drive him crazy.

The way you play with his cock makes confident he’ll get another turn; so, with herculean effort, Wonwoo extracts his hand from your underwear, moves it back on top of her thigh and gives a minute squeeze in apology. He looks down at your face, witnessing the moments of confusion. Your eyebrows knot under his scrutiny.

“Later.” He mouths, hoping you’ll accept his promise to finish what was started.

In an instant, confusion transforms into cold rage. Features smoothing, your chin tips in defiance. Wonwoo already regrets his decision, tempted to go right back to where he left off but you look like you might rip his arm off if he tries. You turn back to the movie and ignore his existence. 

The hand in his pants doesn’t leave, and a chill of fear trickles down his spine. You aren’t prone to violence, but having his most prized possession in the palm of your hand, coupled with the sinister coldness on your face doesn’t inspire any faith that he’ll walk away unscathed.

Wonwoo isn’t sure how much time passes before you act. Seconds drag on, forcing him on the edge of his seat with anticipation. The knee closest to him bends, your foot resting on the end of the cushion, providing a tent of space over his lap. A decisive twist of her wrist catches him off guard. The space between his lap and the blanket hides the rough fists of his cock with their friends only feet away. The motion steals his breath; the way you use the slick to slide across his shaft, squeezing tightly to the point stars float in his vision.

With embarrassing swiftness, he’s close. Teeth pinching at his lip barely prevent the grunts building in his chest; praises for the devil next to him dying on the tip of his tongue. Wonwoo’s hips threaten to cant up, matching the rhythm of your hand with his thrusts. The warning signs of his end sizzle through his veins, the fuzzy snaps of pleasure racing up his spine. 

Wonwoo takes one last glance at your face, finding he’s already being watched. His eyes scan the mischievous smirk on your lips and realizes a second too late that he fell right into a trap. Without warning, your hand stills.

You smile sweetly as your hand slips out of his pants, snaking it into the bottom of his sweatshirt to wipe the mess of cum against his stomach. When your hand leaves his body and returns to your own lap, Wonwoo he’s been punched in the gut. 

He has no time to ponder what the hell just happened because the credits roll and Amina is already up and moving towards the lights. Wonwoo rubs his eyes, thinking about anything that will make his hard-on deflate before he has to stand up. Cold showers, old neighbors morning sex routine, getting hit with a car… he repeats like a mantra.

On his left, you hop up, all but skipping down the hall and into the darkness. Wonwoo wants to chase and finish whatever the hell just happened given that his cock is soft enough he can tuck it up in his waistband. But his phone buzzes before he can. The screen lights up with a new message from the minx herself.

Y/N (lisa roommate): maybe next time :)

The next morning, Wonwoo wakes with utter disbelief at his life. Your texts burned into his skull.

Y/N (lisa roommate): maybe next time :)

Wonwoo: Next time?

Y/N (lisa roommate): you can think of this while you wait

The photo haunted him in his sleep. He stared at it for so long he’s sure he could draw the details from memory.

On your knees facing away from the mirror, your ass is on full display. Wonwoo doesn’t know it is better or worse that you’re lent forward with a lewd curve to your spine. Better because he can see everything. Worse because he received it minutes after you fled to your room, which means the wet cling of your panties to your folds was his doing. 

More effective than the picture is the fact you were all but twenty feet away in the privacy of your room, taking nudes while he pretended everything was normal. The entire time he helped tidy up, the walk back to his apartment, and long before he fell asleep, Wonwoo wondered if you were touching yourself. He wanted to ask; ask if you were thinking about him while you did it and if you weren’t, could he give you something to think about?

But every time he opened the thread to message you his finger refused to type. Wonwoo remembered what it was like to have you on your knees. He hadn’t stopped thinking about it. But now he has an idea what you look like from the back and it might end his life.

Instead of spending the night with the subject of his desires, Wonwoo found himself the subject of torture. Lisa came back to their apartment so the couple could leave first thing in the morning to some rural bed and breakfast outside the city to celebrate their anniversary. Apparently, they decided to start their celebration early. Hours of Lisa and Mingyu going at it across the hall stretched on with no end in sight. 

Their usual antics would piss Wonwoo off but he’d deal with it. However, last night it only reminded him how much he is not getting laid and he has no one to blame but himself. Crushing a pillow over his head, Wonwoo attempted to make up for the sleep he is already desperately missing. 

His efforts were hopeless. Barely five minutes passed before he turned fitful, tossing and turning without finding comfort. Every trick he knows failed; counting his breath, meditation, relaxing music, turning off his phone. Nothing works. He gives up after an hour.

When dawn came, Wonwoo’s bad mood set in to plague him the rest of the day. 

Sheltering down in his room, he remains hidden until he is certain Mingyu and Lisa are long gone. When he does finally leave his bed, the choke of storm clouds outside have darkened the skies to the point that if not for the clock on his phone he would think it's closer to midnight than it is to noon.

When he decides to step out to grab food, his mistake doesn’t hit him until he’s already shut the door. 

Wonwoo’s keys are still on the kitchen counter. Next to his wallet. And his will to live. 

Several streets over, your day is going much much better; refreshed from a full night sleep and the thought of what Wonwoo’s face looked like opening the picture.

Lisa and Amina granted clemency last night, cleaning the mess from the evening before abandoning you for the weekend. Lisa off with Mingyu while Amina joined the college friends on their annual retreat (re: party weekend at the coast). Leaving you all to your lonesome for the next two days, nothing but rest and relaxation dancing on the horizon.

The murky darkness of thunder and rain outside the window is staved off by the warm glow from the floor lamp in the corner of the living room and the dancing lights of the TV as a random show whispers quietly. The warm air is clogged with the sweet smell of vanilla and bergamot from one of Amina’s large candles that rests on the coffee table. And bundle on the couch in the same blanket soiled from the night before, you doze off like a house cat. 

A rogue buzzing pulls you back from the shallow slumber, eyes cracking open lazily to search for the device lost in the cushions. By the time you find it, the call has gone to voicemail. The notification on the screen means you must still be dreaming.

MISSED CALL: Wonwoo

A flash of panic tightens your chest. A million thoughts race by, all regarding what could prompt Wonwoo to call you. He doesn’t call you. In the year and a half you’ve known each other there isn’t a single instance of it. The complete uncharacteristic nature of it has you calling him back before giving it a second thought.

“Are you home?” Snaps through the speaker after the first ring.

He sounds pissed. It’s not the usual sarcastic lit that graces his interactions. It’s dry and pointed and already grating your nerves.

“Well, hello to you.” You sneer back.

“Hi.” He deadpans. You can feel the eye roll through the phone. “Are you home?”

“Why?”

It’s 9pm on a Saturday night and both your roommates are out… of course you’re home.

“I’m locked out and I know Mingyu gave Lisa a copy of the key.”

“You’re locked out?” You parrot. It’s not that it’s an impossible situation, it’s just ridiculously unlucky timing.

“Good to know you’re listening.” He bites.

“Actually, come to think of it, I’m out of town.”

“Y/N…” He interrupts, voice clearly exhausted.

Normally, you would goad him until blue in the face. His stunt last night doesn’t warrant patience. But you know he’s had a week from hell too based on what Mingyu and Lisa shared.

“Yeah I’m home. But Lisa took her keys with her so I doubt the spare is here.”

“Great, just fucking great.” He erupts.

You wince, “Sorry.” 

Wonwoo doesn’t respond immediately. The measured cadence of his breath echoes through the line. When he finally speaks again he sounds calmer.

“Not your fault,” he murmurs. “Timing is just shit given the week I’ve had.”

“Your landlord can’t let you in?”

“Not answering his phone.”

“And Mingyu?”

“Also not answering.”

After that, words fail you. But given Wonwoo truly seems to be on the verge of a mental breakdown, you throw him a bone.

Readjusting the phone on your shoulder, your hands pick at the frayed hem of the blanket. “Look, if you want to sleep on the couch here, be my guest.”

Silence.

“If you’d rather call a locksmith go ahead.” You rush. “Just thought I’d offer.” 

“If you wanted a slumber party you could have told me.”

Apparently, even poor luck can’t prevent Wonwoo from being a complete smartass.

“Have fun sleeping outside!” You croon sweetly, looking for the button to end the call.

“Wai—”

Phone locked and tossed to the floor, you burrow back into the nest of pillows and blankets. Any prior  drowsiness transforms into irritation. 

Less than a minute passes before your phone begins ringing once more.

 It's your turn to snap at him. “What?”

The pause on the other end of the line is heavy. 

“I was being an ass.”

“You’re always an ass.” You respond with a deep sigh.

“The locksmith won’t come till morning so…”

Despite your better judgment, you take pity on the poor man. 

“Come over.” You concede, cringing at the implication of the phrase. Wonwoo is coming over because he’s locked out. Not for any other reason. He’s desperate and needs somewhere to crash until his landlord can let him in.

“…Thanks.” 

The call ends.

Wonwoo knocks on the door twenty minutes later. You can’t believe what you see through the peephole. He’s soaked down to his skin, hair matted to his forehead despite the hood of his jacket. The chill of the hallway makes him shake like a leaf in a windstorm. When you finally open the door to face him, he’s somehow worse than he was through the glass.

If it was under any other circumstances the cling of the hoodie against his broad chest would stir something inside you. But Wonwoo has never looked so… pitiful.

“Oh my god,” You manage, choking on laughter.

“Are we just gonna stand here or can I come in?”

Shouldering open the door, you snicker as Wonwoo steps around. At least until he starts abandoning his wet clothes once inside.

“Wait, let me get some towels.” 

Running to the bathroom, you snag whatever towels can be spared. You catch yourself in the mirror before exiting. Messy hair with an indent on your cheek from the crease of the pillow is the least of your problems. There's stain on the front of your sweater from the leftover pizza scarfed down for lunch and you aren’t wearing a bra. 

It doesn’t matter considering Wonwoo looks like a drowned cat but you’re still self conscious. The best you can do is splash cold water on your face and remember he is worse off than you.

Wonwoo waits right where you left him by the door, dripping more water with each second. His bare chest glistens in the dim light. When he looks up from his phone you chuck a towel at his head. 

“You can wait in the bathroom while I find some dry clothes.”

Wonwoo trudges behind as you lead him back the way you came. 

Once again, he immediately unbuttons his pants without regard for your presence. Deft fingers make quick work. You remember where you are when he goes to force them down.

Wonwoo meets your eyes in the mirror, “Staying to watch?”

“I’m just gonna…” You mumble, looking anywhere but at the show he puts on.

The door latch clicks just as the heavy thuds of his soaked clothes land in the sink. Leaning against the opposite wall, your head gently rests against the cool surface. A deep sigh leaves your nose.

You’ve seen Wonwoo naked. Your hand was down his pants less than twenty four hours ago. A picture of your ass lives in his text messages for Christ sake. Seeing him shirtless and wet shouldn’t have you blushing like some virgin.

Ruminating on your momentary lapse of dignity will get you nowhere so you start hunting for the collection of Seungcheol’s clothes from the bottom drawer of your dresser. A few months ago the sight would have sent you to tears. Now, it’s comical. The fleeting memory of Lisa’s bewildered face when you choked down sobs after Amina threw out your ex’s toothbrush rears its head. Crazy how things can change so quickly from hurt to nothing.

You're in and out of the bathroom in a flash, collecting wet clothes in exchange for dry ones. Thankfully, Wonwoo doesn’t jest from behind the current.

While he continues to shower, you’re busy with making the couch habitable. Knowing you can’t deal with another of Wonwoo’s uncouth comments, the blanket you previously used is exchanged for the one draped on the armchair. Rather the blanket Mingyu and Lisa sullied than the one tainted by yourselves.

Wonwoo comes down the hallway just in time, toweling at his damp hair. 

“Well, this is it.” You say, avoiding eye contact. “There's a charge plugged in near the TV you're welcome to use. Um, good night.”

“Gonna make me sleep all by myself?” He plops on the couch, arms crossed behind his head. Wonwoo’s too cocky for someone who looked like he drowned on dry land twenty minutes ago. 

Wonwoo’s triumphant smirk doesn’t last when you plop a heavy knitted quilt over him. He scrambles free but you’re already halfway to your bedroom.

Scoffing, you respond,“What? Are you scared of the dark?”

“If that's the excuse you need to come over here, sure. I’m terrified.”

“Awww,” you coo sarcastically. “You’ll cope.”

In the confines of your room, you manage the first deep breath of the night. You won’t be able to sleep. Not with him so close. Not when temptation is just beyond the door and down the hallway. 

How dare he ask you for a favor and then act like an ass. Of course, he’d use something so unfortunate to get his dick wet. 

More steam pours from your ears as you ruminate. Pacing back and forth you scoff at his audacity until it boils over and you're stomping back into the living room.

“You know I’m doing you a favor by letting you stay here.” You fume, stopping a few feet away from where the biggest pain in your ass rests. “I could have let you go to Eva and Soonyoung’s and deal with their bullshit but I didn’t.”

Wonwoo lifts on one elbow, eying you silently. 

Faltering under his gaze, you continue to ramble. “How dare you ask me for a favor and then act like a pig.”

“You’re right.” 

“What?” You choke.

“I’m sorry.” Wonwoo concedes. 

You falter for a second in disbelief, mouth gaping over silent words. It couldn’t have been that easy. 

“I shouldn’t have believed you giving me a handy meant more than it was.”

Huffing, you stop and turn back to your room. “You’re insufferable!”

“And yet, you still sent me a pic of your ass.” He snorts, collapsing back into his pillow. “Pick a lane, Y/N.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Flinging your hands in the air, you return back to your room to stew until morning.

“So that picture was all talk?” Wonwoo yells in your direction.

He wants a reaction and that's exactly what he gets. Pivoting, you storm back in front of the couch. 

“Oh! I’m all talk? You’re the one who can’t even finish what he started.”

“And what did I start?” He sneers, sitting up. 

You know what he’s doing. Attempting to rile you up until there's no choice but to give in. And it’s working. Wiping that stupid smirk on his face is as simple as swallowing his cock until he’s nothing more than a twitching mess. But if Wonwoo wants you, he’ll need to try harder than goading a response out of you. 

Biting back you prod his chest, “Nothing worth my time, that's for damn sure.”

“Really?” Wonwoo asks, rising to his feet. “Didn’t seem that way last night.” 

Chest to chest, he’s more intimidating but you won’t falter. Instead, you switch gears. Your finger skims dangerously close to the waistband of his pants. 

“I’m a really, really good actress.”

A battle of wills ensues. Wonwoo stares you down, unflinching at your smirk. He’s pissed at the implication. It's clear in his body language; tense shoulders, shuddering breath. 

Your fatal mistake comes when his tongue peeks out to wet his lips. The memory of what they felt like jolts an ache in your bones. 

A tilt of his chin is all the invitation you need to drag his mouth to yours.

Wonwoo has you perched on his lap in an instant, legs splayed over his spread thighs and his hands pulling you forward. It's clumsy but eagerness blinds you both to anything beyond the powerful drag of your core hips against the tent in his pants.

Twisting a hand in the short hair at the base of Wonwoo’s neck, you tug hard enough to move him how you want. A throaty moan is the only response he gives, easily following your demands. But the way his large hands grab at the curve of your ass move you how he wants.

He groans into the curve of your shoulder with the next cant of your hips. “God, you’re so hot. Shit.”

Despite the chill that has creeped its way inside the apartment, you’re burning up; skin flushed and hot to touch. The hand not tangled in Wonwoo’s hair slips under his shirt, nails skating up the taunt muscles of his abdomen. His own hands echo the path, finding their way beneath your sweater.

Wonwoo lifts your sweater and swiftly drops it to the flooring, busying his hands with cradling the soft skin he’s uncovered. He leans away to break the kiss, but you manage to drag him back. 

“W-Wonwoo, fuck,” you curse, clinging tighter when he breaks the contact and drops his mouth to your chest.

His teeth scrape against your collarbone, leaving you dizzy and desperate. Head in the clouds, you fold and bend as he tortures your breasts. The rough pad of his thumb leaves goosebumps in its wake, skating across your nipple until it pebbles. One reflex you twist the fist of his hair harshly when he pinches and are rewarded with a moan and rush of his cock into your covered cunt. 

A hot trail of sloppy kisses sends your heart into a tailspin. Wonwoo must feel it with the way he licks and sucks your nipple; pulling until it pops out of his mouth before he leans back to repeat the motion once more.

Eventually, Wonwoo’s borrowed sweatshirt is abandoned on the floor as well but neither of you find the rush present from your previous romp. You follow when Wonwoo leans back, flat against his chest.

Hazy fatigue swells around the edges. The feeling of skin on skin, lips on lips, and roaming hands brings everything to a calming lull. Without the fog of alcohol or the threat of nosey friends, you explore each other with feather light touches that turn into gentle gropes, and hot wet kisses that transform into drags of teeth and lips. From shared exhaustion, running on nothing less than minutes of sleep and a near lethal dose of caffeine, you sluggish trapeze through the motions. 

Taking advantage of the moment, you discover exactly what Wonwoo likes. When you rake a hand through his hair, nails pulling through the damp locks to scratch against his scalp, then Wonwoo shudders and sucks at your chest with more enthusiasm than before. He likes when you bite him, his hips rutting up harshly with each nip at his throat.

Each breathy sigh you release spurs him on. Melting into a needy mess, you can’t find an ounce of embarrassment; even as Wonwoo massages your cunt through your sweatpants and pathetic whimper after pathetic whimper pours from your throat.

Having his focus on you makes you crave him more. A never ending cycle of want. 

“Please,” you beg. The second the word is out of your mouth, Wonwoo is ushering you towards your room.

You trip through the living room with Wonwoo’s mouth still latched to your chest. Pinned between the back of the couch and his body, he sucks until your shoulders cave and you force him from his hiding place. 

“What?” he smirks into your jaw. “What do you want?” His hand sneaks its way under your pants, squeezing a palm full of your bare ass before slipping down further. “Fuck, you’re so wet.” He nips at your chin, fingers dipping into your entrance. “So messy for me.”

Your hands scramble for something to comfort from the onslaught. Wonwoo is already back between your breasts, humming around the flesh every time you shudder from his ministrations. He twists his fingers into your core, the noise loud despite the cover of your pants.

“Shit, shit, shit,” you rasps under the prod of his thumb against your clit. Rather than succumbing to the mind numbing assault, you jolt into action. 

Wonwoo angles his hips just right when he realizes your aim. It’s too easy to force your hand under the fabric and find him hard and waiting just like last night. But unlike last night, you don’t have to hide. And the freedom dooms him from the start. 

Anchoring one hand on his chest, you push until he’s upright. He’s a wreck; eyes half shut behind the lens of his glass and lips a delectable shade of red. You pull your hand out of his pants and lap away the evidence of his arousal, delighting in the way a vein on his neck jumps when you give them a lewd suck.

Turning, you saunter down the hallway, shedding the rest of your clothes as you go.

“Coming?” you call over your shoulder, pinning Wonwoo in place as you bend to slip off your sweatpants, flashing him the barest peak of your cunt, before continuing to your room.

You don’t hear him following until you're at the threshold. A rush of footsteps and then he’s emerging from the darkness, eyes taking in your naked form. Wonwoo looks like he’s been starving and you’re the first meals he’s about to have in years.

Wonwoo pins you to the wooden door, one hand finding your jaw while the other bats your legs wide before roughly swiping at your sensitive clit. 

“You’re such a fucking tease,” he rasps into your ear.

Two fingers tap against your lips. Without hesitation you present your tongue, lapping the digits like you would his cock. Wonwoo watches with so much heat in his gaze you can’t stop a moan from slipping free when he puts pressure on your tongue and causes you to drool. He makes to pull away but stops when you grab his wrist and force him in place.

You suck his fingers deeper, eyes never leaving his the entire time. The pressure against the inside of your cheek leaves you reeling. Pure desire inks your brain and makes you desperate. 

Both unsatisfied, you let Wonwoo go. He’s quicker than you imagined. A force full grab of your jaw tugs you away from the door and into his mouth. The slide of his tongue against your own verges on pornographic but you're too busy focusing on the same fingers you’d just been sucking on splitting your folds before stretching your walls. 

Slowly falling to his knees, Wonwoo shoulders under your leg until your pussy is splayed for him to enjoy. The trail of hot kisses across your hip do nothing to comfort you. Not with the swift pace of his hand.

“Are you gonna do something or just stare all night?” 

The strip he licks up your core, tongue flat and heavy, makes you double over. Wonwoo remembers exactly what buttons to push to shut you up, overwhelming you with his mouth and hand buried in your cunt along with the hand continuing to tweak your nipples. 

“Fuck,” you mewl. “You can do—shit—better than that.”

The raze of his teeth on your clit is punishment enough for the outburst. But Wonwoo loves to prove a point. His pace becomes slower than ever, still hard but the tempo of his hand is reserved. It makes you hot all over. Choking on air, your brain melts and bones jelly under the lashing of Wonwoo’s tongue. 

Just as he finds the perfect angle, he falls back.

You snap. “What the fuck?”

He doesn’t answer. Wonwoo pulls away his hand and rises to his feet. Once nose to nose, he smiles. The sudden change is disorienting. Even more so when he leaves a gentle peck against your cheek and heads for the bed.

Perching on the bed, he leans pack on to his palms and presents his lap like a throne. “Come here,” he commands.

Scrabbling into his lap, Wonwoo catches you off guard. His hands strike across your waist as he leans back, shuffling you up his chest until your knelt over his face.

Your hands steady on your thighs, brushing his. In an uncharacteristic act of sweetness, he tangles his fingers with your own. 

The gesture leaves you reeling. “Wonwoo?”

His hands curl around your thighs and force you down onto his waiting tongue. There's no build up, only hunger. Wonwoo points his tongue and uses it to trace hard circles around your clit before suck so harshly you buckle in half. 

If Wonwoo minds he makes no show of it. Instead, he pins your tangled hands in place and licks deeper, tracing anywhere he can reach. Every muscle in your body jerks from the sloppy way he eats you out.

Sweat blooms on your skin. Each breath stilted and you’re drooling when cracks open an eye to take him in. The flex of his biceps when you lurches against a vulgar suck of his mouth. Even the mop of his hair buried between your thighs makes you whimper. 

One hand leaves your, reaching around and pinching your ass punitively.

“Work for it,” he hums into your pussy.

Not needing to be told twice, you rock where your bodies meet. Your free hand tangles in his hair and uses the leverage to grind against his tongue. Wonwoo’s hand continues to follow the curve of your ass until he’s able to tease your entrance. 

Foul noises radiate from where he works you, from his hand and your mouth. Spit and arousal smear on his cheeks and you can feel it against your thighs bracketing his head.

You want to see his face. The heat in his eyes when he’s focused on something, focused on you, making you cum. You pull Wonwoo’s hair again.

“Focus,” His muffled voice is thick and broken, like he’s getting off just as much as you are.

Whining from the vibration against your clit, tears threaten to fall from how tight you pinches your eyes shut from the onslaught. 

“Wonwoo, I’m—” you sob. “Please, fuck. Please, I’m gonna cum.”

The world holds its breath. And then it shatters into a million pieces.

You’re whole and not. No more than a supernova. Whine after whine claws its way out of your lungs until you choke on them.

Wonwoo pays no mind, continuing to work you until you try and fall away. But he expects it, moving with you and staying between your thighs like you haven’t cum at all.

“Too much,” you gasp when he spits on your ruined cunt.

Flashing the pink of his tongue, he sneers your own words back with acidic sweetness. “You can do better than that.”

Tossing your legs over his shoulders, he digs in again. 

It hurts. Wonwoo isn’t easing you into a second orgasm. If anything, he’s bullying it out of you. 

And you take it.

“I can’t,” you plead, dipping your chin to meet his eyes and beg your case. “Too much, Woo. I—”

Wonwoo leans back and slows the three fingers buried inside you. The hand pressed to your stomach rises to cup your face, his thumb tracing the bow of your lips. 

“You can.” He coos. His thumb slips into your mouth a second before he spits on your clit and uses his soiled hand to slap.

The scream ripping its way out is silenced by the digit in your mouth. Wonwoo dives back in, taking zero mercy. Your hips buck into his mouth involuntarily and the bastard laughs.

“See? You want it so bad, don’t you baby?” 

His thumb pops from your mouth but not before you manage a quick nip. The look on Wonwoo’s face tells you it was the wrong answer to his question.

Your breath falters when the faintest amount of pressure ghosts along your throat, waiting for your okay before committing. 

Spreading your legs wider and tucking your hands behind your knees, you nod, “I want it.” 

Pupils blown wide, Wonwoo goes rigid before exploding into a frenzy. 

He sucks your folds into his mouth, hastily laving you in his spit before forcing another finger inside your tight hole. 

“C’mon, you can do it for me. Give me one more.” He demands while coming up for a breath. “Such a fucking mess for me.”

Your hips snap harshly, nails digging into his wrist resting on your chest. “Oh my god, oh my god!”

Feet planting onto the mattress, you rock against his face with more force than before. A cacophony of vulgar squelches and desperate whines fill the room. He squeezes until stars dot your vision from the lack of blood flow only to release with a rush of lightheaded bliss. Using your hands to tug at your sore nipples, you finally give Wonwoo what he wants.

“W-Wonwoo, so good.” You pant. 

He cleans up the mess the same way he made it but with a gentler touch. It doesn’t stop the quivers of overstimulation from wrecking your nerves but he whispers an apology for each one and rubs it into the crease of your thigh when you wince.

With a final peck to your clit, he releases you.

Wonwoo’s chest heaves, eyes drooping in lust or fatigue, you don’t know. Maybe both. When he rises from his spot between your legs, you scramble for his face. Mouths meet in a slow kiss, nothing more than a languid press against one another and a few deep breaths. You taste yourself but ignore it. You’re too tired, too sated, to care. 

You try and palm his cock, eager to return the favor but Wonwoo shifts away. He crowds you up to the pillows, pulls you into his chest, and sends you off to sleep with his lips against your forehead.

You simply lay there, curled around one another until sleep claims you.

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire @missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @lovelyhachi

Series Taglist: @aaniag @sdoulc @wonvsmile @jeonwonwooscutie @wonrangwoo @winterbeartaehyungbestboy @yogurttea @4cheezflatbred @fragmentof-indifference @p-dwiddle @icedearlgreytea @cottoncheol @hoshiskimchi @listxn @kwonshiho @kyeomofhearts @beananacake

© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Counting the Minutes

Pairing: Michael Gavey (Saltburn) x f!reader Warnings: Dirty talk, masturbation, phone sex. Word count: ~1k

Summary: Separated for the Christmas break, her and Michael have to get creative.

Author's note: A little addition to The Golden Ratio, though can also be read as a standalone piece. Day twelve of the Smuffmas prompts - "promise and phone sex". No tag list. Follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications.

She nestles beneath the duvet, clicking through the contacts on her Nokia until she reaches Michael’s name. A faint smile tugs at her lips as her finger hovers over the call button, she can’t wait to speak to him.

They have been inseparable since the night that Oliver ditched him. They brought out the best in each other. Michael lit a fire underneath her that made her want to study harder, to strive for perfection in all things. In turn, she softened him up and taught him not to see the world through such a harsh lens. 

Their relationship had become serious enough that they had both chosen to spend their reading week together, instead of going home like the vast majority of people at their college had.

Now the term was over, and Christmas had beckoned them both home; Michael back to his mum, and her back to her dad. It’s odd not to see him every day, and though they’d stayed in touch on MSN Messenger, nothing compares to sitting with their legs entwined as they discuss their notes for their upcoming tutorials.

It’s only been a week and she misses the way he rests his chin against his hand when he’s deep in thought, how the intensity of his unblinking, blue eyed stare causes her skin to grow hot, and the smell of Imperial Leather soap and old books that she inhales when she rests her face in the crook of his neck.

Holding the phone to her ear, it rings once, twice, three times before he answers.

“Hello, you.”

His voice gives her butterflies. It’s the sound she’d attribute to how it feels to run your fingertips against plush velvet.

“Hi,” she says back with a coy smile. God, she wishes she could see him.

“How long can you talk for?” He asks.

“I put credit on my phone yesterday, ten pounds, so should be good for a while.”

“One hundred and sixty six point seven hours.”

She huffs a laugh. Of course his mind wanders to the maths of it.

“You think we could talk for that long?” 

“Hmm,” he muses, “I’m sure we could find a way to pass the time.”

“Like we did during reading week?” She asks softly, her fingers drawing lazy circles against the cotton of her bedsheets.

“Can’t really do that over the phone.”

“Have you ever had phone sex before?”

She hears him suck in a harsh breath before he replies. “What do you think?”

It causes her to giggle. Of course he hasn’t.

“Would you like to try it?” She holds the phone tighter to her ear, a lazy grin upon her lips.

“What does it entail?”

“Well,” she begins, switching her mobile from one ear to the other, and snuggling further down into the bed. “We describe what we’d like to do to each other while we touch ourselves.”

“One thousand, two hundred and fifty.”

“What?”

“On average, I can make you orgasm in about eight minutes. If we run through all of your phone credit then that’s how many times I could make you come.”

“Michael!” She gasps, feeling her insides flutter at the thought. “I don’t think that would be physically possible. I’ll settle for just the one today.”

He huffs a soft laugh, the sound breathy through the receiver. “Yes, I suppose that’s a bit impractical. Alright then, you start.”

“I wish you here right now,” she purrs seductively. “I want to push my hand up your t-shirt and run my fingers against that little trail of hair that leads all the way down your stomach, before I wrap them around your cock.”

His breathing grows heavier and she can hear the faint rustle of clothing in the background. She bites her lip, her own hand snaking beneath the duvet and into the waistband of her knickers.

“I miss the way you feel,” he tells her, voice shaky, “how tightly you grip me when I first push inside of you. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that sensation. You’re so wet, so warm…”

She can hear the slick sound of his hand pumping over his cock, the sound sends arousal pooling between her legs and she circles her pearl in earnest, the added wetness aiding her ministrations. She hadn’t expected him to focus on the sensation of physical touch quite so much, but Michael is pragmatic after all, and his innovative approach excites her.

“Mmmm,” she moans quietly, “I want you to do that thing where you grab my hips to pull me back against you as you fuck me, it feels so good.”

A broken whimper escapes him, and there’s a brief moment of just his ragged breathing before he speaks again.

“The way your thighs tighten against my waist drives me mad. I swear I can still feel you there when I close my eyes, see the way your tits bounce– fuck!”

She whines, circling her bud faster, the coil in her gut tightening. “Wanna slide my hands down to your arse, push you in as deep as you’ll go, watch how your eyes screw shut as you come inside me.”

He grunts. “Wish I could come inside of you so badly. I need to feel you clenching around me, hear the pretty sounds you make as I fill you up.”

Her hips jerk involuntarily against her hand, and she knows she’s close. It’s been a week since he’s touched her and his filthy words have sent her unravelling much faster than she anticipated.

“I’m close,” she pants.

“M–me too,” he huffs back. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard the moment we get back to college.”

“Oh god–” Her response is cut off by her pleasured cry, as she falls apart, her walls spasming around emptiness as her thighs tremble.

A grunt and heavy breathing on the other end of the line lets her know that Michael has reached his end too. There’s nothing but the sound of their shared gasps for air, as they both recover.

“Do you promise?” She finally asks. “To fuck me hard when we get back to college?”

“Tell you what, let’s go back a day early and we can spend an entire day doing just that.”

She giggles excitedly, rolling onto her side. “I’ll be counting the minutes until then.”

[eybefioro]

(Kanji-less version, timelapse and ramblings under the cut)

ALSO OPEN THE IMAGE TUMBLR KILLED THE QUALITY AS USUAL

I wasn't sure sure which version was better, so here is the one without the ~~menacing~~ kanji! (And sorry. I'm sure the Kanji I did is horrible but I swear I tried my best)

So. Before some time before Good Omens consuming my every awaken thought, the media that lived in my head was JoJo's Bizarre Adventure. Because of a certain thing I am working on, my mind end up connecting the two and I HAD to do something about it or else I'd go crazy.

(Cues 3 min time lapse bc i spent -checks app- ALMOST 46 HOURS on this thing. Fuck)

Since JJBA is one of my fixations, at some point I end up watching every single interview with Araki (the author) I could get my hands into, and lo and behold he actually shared about his process quite a bit over the years. We even have access to some timelapses of him working on illustrations!!! I tried to follow a bit of his process, and one VERY interesting characteristic of his work is the JoJo pose – very dramatic covers/panels that showcase the character. He often uses fashion shoots as a references (Araki is very inspired by fashion, architecture and music and there is a million references in his work it's very very interesting and fun) like this:

So there I go on Pinterest looking for a fashion photo that inspires me (Google was shit. What is happening to that search engine?) AND I FOUND IT

YALL. IT WAS LIKE A SHOT RIGHT THROUGH MY BRAIN. I COULD SEE IT SO CLEARLY. Aziraphale and Crowley falling out of heaven together after the second coming. Azi holding him. Crowley giving the middle finger to all those fuckers bc HE GOT HIS ANGEL BACK.

But the thing is... the things is. I'm no artist. I have almost no experience drawing. And this is not exactly an easy pose, and is something pretty ambitious for a beginner like me (I can literally count on my hands the amount of digital drawings I have done. It's all on my blog even lol) so like.... the chances of this going well were very slim. But I am very happy with how it turned out!!

I have to thank @elenthyaolyenths and @gribouli LOTS for that. Elen teached me how wings worked, a bit of anatomy with that, a bit of how she makes those beautiful fluid pieces, Li taught me a bit about colors and light/Shadow. Their support was amazing and they're so so nice to me 🥹

I had so much trouble drawing this bc I'm still learning how digital painting works and how Ibis Paint works. Idk what half of the stuff there does LMAO yk the line work? All in one layer. Don't do that folks. I resized the canvas half way through and had to redo a bit of the line art bc I had to scale it a bit to make the proportions better. Half way in I figured out how to make masks (again, elenthya is an angel for telling me that exists) so I had to learn as I went how that thing works (I still don't know how to use it fully). Ibis Paint froze like 4 times bc my phone can't handle it well LMAO my precision is shit bc I mostly draw with my fingers so I had to gave up control and use the stabiliser on maximum... and so on.

I'm having so much trouble with everything in digital painting BUT IT'S SO MUCH FUN. THERE'S SO MANY POSSIBILITIES. I'm excited to keep going and learn more.

Back to the Jojo style. I LOVE IT SO MUCH. I love harsh lines and shadows, the dramatic effects, the detail, the crazy perspectives, the colors... THE WAY ARAKI DRAWS SMOKE AND CLOUDS.

This was my ref for the background, and to represent the heaven Crowley is flipping off and that they're falling from. (fuck this scene in the anime broke me. BUCCIARATI MY BELOVED)

AND THE CLOTHEEEEESSSSS I HAD SO MUCH FUN IMAGINING WHAT THEY'D WEAR IN ARAKI'S STYLE. Obviously Aziraphale is once again sporting something inspired by the crepes look bc omg that was so OVER THE TOP. I'm sure araki would come up with something crazier and more interesting than what I did, but I still think this is a fair shot.

As much as I love JoJo's style I have to say it isn't really an art style made to depict softness. Like. I don't think Araki ever drew something that looks soft. All the characters are slim or super strong, and the few ones that are fat he didn't really... Well. I'm gonna say it. Araki doesn't draw fat people, and when he does I don't think they're a good depiction. As I said he doesn't do softeness lol nothing looks soft in his style, not even fabric I think. It's all sharp lines, dark shadows (again, I love it but yeah) and thin (or extremely big in the first parts) people. This fits really well with Crowley but not so much with Aziraphale. If this was a pose that showed more of him I'd probably not do a great job at it. I think I'd need to go heavy on trying to make his clothes look soft and big to try to make it better.

Now WwwwwiiiIIIIIIINNNNNGGGGGZZZZZZZ!!!! Elen is such a magician at drawing wings. I can't believe she actually offered to help me with this one. I learned so much. I was taking inspiration from her work, I wanted to make them BIG and GLORIOUS as she does and I think I succeeded a bit at it (they're not as fluid and perfect as hers, obviously, but I think they still look nice.)

As she was explaining to me how the anatomy works and all we ended up talking about how they're like arms and the digits in bats and I decided to give Crowley that type of wings. I also discovered that Elenthya used to draw DRAGONS. DRAGONS YALL. SHE GAVE ME A DOODLE OF ONE AND IT'S SO AMAIZNG. So together with the bat wings I tried to give him some drangon-esque feel. And she also gave me the idea to make Crowley's wings more damaged, to give more weight to the drawing - Aziraphale helping him not to fall again, holding him in the descend.

Anyway. I talked too much already and no one has the patience for this lol I just like to register the process of me learning things. It's fun.

[saturnville]

bite, l. hamilton

pairing: he (lewis hamilton) x black best friend oc (anvika dawson) content: in which two friends cross a line people have been waiting for them to cross. warning: 18+ content song: bite by njzoma an: y'all know I don't write smut fr, so ntm. but I hope y'all enjoy it. wc: 2,498 tags: the girlies who were hyping me up to post this @boujiestpoet @mauvecherie-writes @saintslewis @greedyjudge2 @vile-harlot @emjayewrites

“Just because we’re attracted to one another doesn’t mean we need to sleep together. I’m off that. Plus, we’re friends.”

Anvika prided herself on being a woman of self-control and discipline. Though it did not come easy, years of abstinence grew dreary and at times, very lonely, her hard work was not something she was willing to risk. Her decision to step into abstinence wasn’t one she took lightly, nor was it one that she planned, but once Anvika began the journey of healing from a heartbreak, intimacy with another man wasn’t the priority. Though that had been over four years ago and she was well over the situation, she could admit that while it was difficult to maintain her self-control, not having to worry about anyone’s snot-nosed son brought more peace than she could ever imagine. 

“Even more of a reason to let it happen. Everything happens better when you have a solid foundation first. Everybody thinks you two are together anyways. He truly cares for you, in more ways than one.” 

Anvika hummed and rolled her eyes as she brought the slender champagne fluke to her full lips. The liquid went smooth down her throat. She shrugged. “Then let them think that. Lewis is a good man, a good and attractive man, but…”

Her friend, Onyx, sighed and downed her drink with a wave of her hand. “I don’t know how you do it! I would’ve lost my mind by now. I commend you.” Onyx bowed playfully which pulled a light laugh from Anvika. Though she was joking, she couldn’t help but sense the truth behind her words. 

Though swearing off men and intimacy had become a more common practice among women, many people found it taboo and unrealistic. She soon began to ponder--what if she’d never find anyone that could give her what she wanted because of how she chose to navigate her dating life? She shook it off internally. That would be a problem, but none that would be hers. 

Before she got the chance to respond, her phone rang against the glass table that held their expensive lunch on it’s back. LH flashed across the screen. She smiled softly which caught the attention of Onyx, who gave a teasing smirk. For someone who was insistant on keeping a strong boundary between herself and her closest friend, she surely smiled like a fool whenever he called. 

“I told you I have a lunch date with Onyx today,” she reminded the racer lowly, using her index finger to draw doodles in the condensation her water glass sweat off on the table. “Everything alright?” 

“Everything’s fine, angel,” he spoke smoothly. “Just wanted to make sure you were still wanting to join me for the event on Friday.” Anvika hummed and nodded as though he could see her. He was attending a gala in London and of course, offered his plus-one to Anvika, as he had done since their friendship had begun years prior. What was his, was hers, including access to rooms and events that would grant her opportunities to further her career as a branding and marketing consultant. 

“Yes,” she replied excitedly. “I still haven’t found a dress. What color are you wearing?”

There was shuffling in the background before he spoke again. “Blue. Don’t worry about it,  I’ll handle it.” Her heart fluttered. “Enjoy your lunch. Tell Onyx I said hello and call me later, alright?” 

Anvika’s teeth trapped her bottom lip. “Alright. Talk soon.” 

“Bye, love.” 

Anvika turned her phone on its face and looked up, catching Onyx’s playful eyes. Her thick eyebrow touched her forehead. “Friends, right?” Anvika gave her a look. Onyx raised her hands in defense, “My bad, my bad.” 

-

Lewis Hamilton was a gentleman. Sure, this was universal knowledge, but something about him being gentlemanly with her made her heart flutter and her stomach clench with desire. And it almost made her question Onyx’s point, “he truly cares for you; in more ways than one.” It’d typically be something she’d deny, but as she stood in front of the mirror with her hair done by a hairstylist he arranged to come, her nails done by a nail technician he’d flown out, and a dress he arranged to be custom-made to suit her body, how could she deny it any longer? 

“Don’t think too deeply into it,” she scolded herself, slipping out of her robe. She walked toward her dress, pulled it off the hanger, and carefully slipped into it. “You’re friends. Close friends who care for one another. That’s it, that’s all.” 

They met at the paddock six years prior. She was invited to her first Formula One race through her consultant agency, which took her team on an all-expense paid trip for their hard work. She wasn’t aware of Formula One, just of familiar names. Then, at the end of the match, she had the chance to put a face to the infamous name of Lewis Hamilton. 

“You raced well,” Anvika noted, taking in the slightly disheveled appearance of the raceman. “I’ve never been to a Formula One race; good job on giving me a reason to come back one day.” 

The man’s eyebrow raised in interest. He crossed his arms over his chest, his muscular build on display. “Is that so?”

Anvika nodded. 

“We can make that happen whenever you want.” 

It was Anvika’s turn to raise an eyebrow. A smirk played on her lips. “Is that so? Tryna be my friend, Lewis?” 

He shrugged his shoulders. Friends wasn’t too bad. Anything to get to know her. “Any man would be a fool to refuse that opportunity, Anvika.”

That marked the beginning of an inseparable union.

Anvika continued to mumble and grumble, doing whatever she could to keep her mind eased. Her self-conversations were halted by a knock on her door. Lewis. “Coming!” Holding her dress to her chest. She turned the doorknob, and the familiar scent of his cologne filled her nose. “Are you…oh. Oh.”

Closing the door behind him, Lewis’ eyes were trained on her, the most beautiful woman he’d laid eyes on. The dress, complementary to his suit, was perfectly designed and tailored to her. She was a fan of long-sleeved dresses, so that’s what she got. It was constructed with a heavy, luxurious velvet material and it hugged every riff, edge, and curve on her body. The neckline showed the swell of her breasts and her beautiful collarbone. The mermaid-like tail further accentuated her shape. 

Her hair was parted to the side and curled to perfection. The makeup complimented her features--thick eyebrows, full lips, and a round nose. And her scent, goodness, it suffocated him. The jasmine and almond notes filled his nostrils and he wanted to nuzzle his face in her neck and inhale like she was the air he needed to breathe. 

“You look beautiful,” Lewis managed to speak. His voice was so low that she almost didn’t hear his compliment. With a bashful smile, she thanked him and led him to her room where she wandered toward the bathroom, which had a series of jewels across the counter. “Help me pick a necklace?” 

Anvika turned to face the jewelry and fought hard to ignore the heat that radiated from Lewis’ body as he moved to stand behind her. From over her shoulder, his eyes followed the line of jewels the stylists brought. His eyes landed on a silver necklace; a thin chain with a multi-carat teardrop diamond. “This one.” 

Lewis took the necklace in his hands and placed it around her neck. Anvika lifted her hair to grant him easy access and shivered as his cool fingertips brushed against her skin. She inhaled deeply. “Stunning.” His breath was warm against her neck. They locked eyes in the mirror ahead of them. The tension was thick. Suffocating. His brown eyes, usually so full of love and warmth, were filled with something she couldn’t quite identify, but it made her body heat like wildfire. 

“I’m ready,” she announced, careful not to let her voice waver. She turned, purposefully ignoring the groan he released when she brushed against him. Her lips quivered as she tried to give a steady smile. What the hell was happening between them? Anvika placed her hands on his chest and soothed the non-existent wrinkles on his suit jacket. He was so handsome. “You look great, darling.” 

“Thank you…” his words came out as a whisper. He was too distracted by her. Six years of friendship and what he felt from the time he met her at the paddock all those years ago had reached a breaking point. He’d boiled over. 

Anvika tried to smile as she pressed a kiss against his cheek, but with how he reacted, her lips landed at the corner of his lips. She took a step back. “Let’s get ready to go, yeah?” 

Lewis swallowed thickly. He held his arm out for her, which she grabbed instinctively, and together, they were out the door with a million and one thoughts swimming between them. 

-

“And that beauty you’ve brought?” an older man questioned Lewis, who had his eyes on Anvika as she danced through the siloes of people in the room. The gala was nothing short of a popularity function, a random event on a random weekend for the host to flaunt their money and connections, Truthfully, his desire to attend dwindled once he saw her in that dress. She was the only thing on his mind. 

“Anvika Dawson,” Lewis said, nodding in her direction. “One of the best branding and marketing consultants in the industry. She’s amazing at everything she does. You’ve got a business, don’t you?” And that’s why he was a good friend, Anvika noted as she began to walk over, hearing him advocate for her in front of the man. 

“You flatter me,” she said with a smile as she took a position under Lewis’ arm, which slid around her waist. “Anvika Dawson, nice to meet you.” 

The older man, who had went by the nam Eli, shook her hand firmly and nodded in interest. “Well, pardon me, but the two of you would make a wonderful couple.” The young adult chuckled lightly; the comment was nothing new to them, but it seemed to bring them both discomfort given the fact that they had a very intimate moment just an hour before their arrival. Before Lewis could speak up, Anvika thanked the man sweetly then they were whisked in another direction. 

They were joined together at the hip for the remainder of the evening. And, on the rare occasion that they were apart, they stole glances from across the room like teenagers in a romantic sitcom. Soon, the event wrapped up and they were in the backseat of the car, sitting in a thick silence. 

Anvika sat at the right of the car, her knees turned inward and her legs crossed. With every bump in the road and swerve of the car, the tip of her heel brushed against Lewis’ leg. His breath hitched. She said nothing. 

The car came to an abrupt stop and the doors were opened for them. Before her foot could touch the ground, Lewis’ hand was awaiting. “Thank you,” Anvika said softly, and allowed him to guide her into the hotel. 

He still hadn’t said much. The walk to the elevator was quiet, yet, he hadn’t let go of her hand. What was he thinking about? If it was the sudden shift in their interactions, it didn’t go unnoticed by her either. 

The elevator doors peeled open and Lewis guided her in. He pressed the button, 10, that would send them to the floor their rooms were on. The elevator ride seemed slow as each ding indicated they’d entered another floor. 

Anvika cleared her throat and decided to speak up, “I enjoyed tonight. And again, you looked great. I love blue on you.” 

He couldn’t remember what happened between her compliment, her back against the elevator wall, and his lips on hers.  The only thing that forced him to key in was her hands pressing against his abdomen and his name falling from her lips. “Lewis…” What he’d heard time and time again in his dreams had finally become a reality. His stomach churned; could he get her to say it again? “What are you…” She cut herself off when she fell victim to the wonderful feeling of his lips against her jaw. 

“I just…” Lewis settled his face in her neck. “One night, Vi. Let me have one night with you…” Her heart pounded in her ears. What the hell was happening? 

“Lewis…” Her hand slipped and fell just above his belt. She extended her arm just slightly. “We can’t do this. I-I don’t want to mess up our friendship and you know I’m not going all the way with anyone--” 

Lewis hummed. His eyes sat low as he looked at her. She looked completely worn out as if he’d done to her what he truly wanted. Her forehead glistened with sweat, her lipstick was smeared, and her chest heaved. “Nothing will change for the worse, angel. And I don’t want to go there with you, just want to make you feel good…always have.” His left arm circled around her waist and his large hand palmed her backside. She whimpered. “Can I?” 

“Someone might see...” 

He ignored her. “Can I make you feel good?” His tone was stern as he repeated his question. Suddenly, the gala was out of her mind and the only thing that clouded her thoughts was him. Him and him only. Lewis Hamilton had infiltrated her mind and she finally stopped fighting it. 

The elevator dinged. “Yes…” 

-

“Should I…?” her hands reached for the necklace that shone beneath the dim lights of the hotel suite. Lewis shook his head and peeled his jacket off his shoulders, revealing a crisp white wife beater. He shed that too. Anvika’s breath hitched. “Keep it on. Lay back for me, angel.” 

Anvika looked like an angel surrounded by the comforter. Her undergarments were long discarded, save for her underwear which he kept in the pocket of his pants. The pure white of the sheets were a stark contrast to the richness of her complexion. Her hair was sprawled against the pillow with a few strands covering her face lazily. The look on her face was one of comfort, relief in one way or another. 

She welcomed Lewis’ body between her legs as he crawled on the bed and his lips against hers as he hovered above her. For the first time that night, Anvika’s hands didn’t tremble when she touched him. She welcomed the feeling of every ridge of muscle, every raised scar, and every mature tattoo. 

Their hands moved frantically over each other’s body, and it felt amazing. She hadn’t realized how touch deprived she was until she heard his chuckle in her ear. Her face warmed. She felt like a teenager. “It’s okay…” his lips ghosted against the shell of her ear. “Make all the noise you want.” 

Anvika didn’t respond--her mouth wouldn’t allow her to. As Lewis moved down her body, she sat on her elbows, watching and waiting. God, he was so handsome like this. His head was dipped between her thighs and his tattooed glistened under the dim lights. Slowly, he lips created an intentional trail from her belly down to the treasure just centimeters away from his mouth. 

Her fingers clawed at the bedsheets as the anticipation rose. She was becoming impatient. He was giving attention to every other place except where he wanted her. She huffed. “Lewis…” 

He hummed, clearly unbothered by her frustration. He glanced at her, “Yes?” She whimpered. “Talk to me.” He was amused, very amused. She was desperate for him. It was evident by the way her arousal seeped onto the bed. He gathered some on his fingers, using it as a lubricant as he finally began to touch her. 

Anvika gasped. His movements were slow and meticulated but they were enough to set her over the edge. He brought his lips to hers again, which she accepted sloppily. Her jaw fell slack as he continued to work her to her first release of the night. It came quickly, quicker than she would have liked. When his fingers hit that spot within her, her hips jerked and she squeaked his name. 

Lewis chuckled, “That’s it?” He prodded that spot again. “Right there?” Anvika nodded. He removed his fingers. She groaned in frustration, “Lewis, please!”

“Please what?” He brought his fingers to his lips and moaned at the taste of her on his tongue. If this was just the beginning, he couldn’t imagine how mad he’d go in the coming moments. “Tell me what you want.”

She clocked it. He wanted her to beg. Anvika wasn’t the begging type. She may have been far removed from having sex, but she always got her way, especially with Lewis. Her hands trailed down the muscular planes of his stomach. Her fingers hooked in his belt and pulled him forward. Her fingers curled around his neck and her nails toyed with the faded hair there. She brought her smeared lips to his ear, her tongue dancing against the shell of it. He shudder. “I want you to make my legs shake and rock my world. Can you do that, Lewis?” 

Her voice. The way her voice dropped in octave but increased in seduction had his head spinning. There were a few moments of silence as he fought hard to gather himself and the more she spurred him on, the most difficult it became. But then, she heard it, “Yes…”

-

“Right there, right there! Oh my…” He was a lover of music. Being in a studio, creating melodies to go with lyrics, was his favorite pastime. But this took the cake. She created her a song better than he could have ever imagined, and was it addicting. 

Her moans, cries, and screams were melodic and his name was the only lyric she knew. He hated repetition in music, but loved hearing hers. So addicting. So well created. So beautiful. 

Her legs trembled around his head and her hands were buried in his braids. He fought the urge to bend her over when she whispered out the faintest, “Baby, please…” She’d used terms of endearment before, but in this context, it was different. “I’m close!”

Her body, damp with sweat and covered in bruises created by his mouth, jumped and jolted as she grew closer to her peak. Lewis sat up, replacing his tongue with his highly skilled fingers. He used his arm to stabilize his body as he hovered over her. What a sight.

Her hair was completely sweated out, pooped and frizzy at the roots. Her makeup stained the pillows and her lips were swollen from her biting and his intense kisses. Her neck was dark with love bites. Her eyelids were hooded but he could see the fire behind her eyes. If only he could capture her and keep the picture in his pocket forever. 

“Doing so well for me,” he whispered, kissing against her cheek and jaw. His fingers made quick work of the huddle of nerves between her legs. “Taking it like a good girl.” Her moans grew louder, higher in pitch, and full of air. It was becoming too much—her hands pushed against his arm, trying to run. “Don’t run now. Isn’t this what you wanted?” 

“Lewis, I’m—“ she cut herself off with a high pitched scream that seemed to ring on forever. Lewis chuckled lightly and worked her through her orgasm. “That’s it, baby.” Her body shook as she tried to come down calmly.

He spent a few minutes between her legs, caressing her gently as an act of comfort. Her loud noises had diminished to soft whimpers as she came down from cloud nine. When she finally opened her eyes again, he asked, “You okay?” 

She was better than okay. Though they didn’t cross all the lines, Anvika had gotten the best orgasm she’d received in her life from a man’s mouth and hands. She’d deal with the consequences later, but in that moment, she felt amazing. 

She nodded and smiled lazily. “I’m okay. Are you…do you want me to…?” Her eyes fell to the evident bulge that strained against his pants. He shook his head.

“I’m okay. Let’s get you cleaned up…”

-

What was supposed to be a shower to clean her up resulted in her on her knees giving him the most intense release he’d experienced in months. It left him panting, shaking, and whimpering like it was his first time all over again. 

Once again, she looked angelic with her now curly hair flat against her back and big brown eyes staring at him as she worked him like the expert she was. He came in her with with a groan, his fingers in her hair. She stood to her feet, smiling innocently as she showed him there was no remnant of him left in her mouth. 

“You’re nasty,” he announced, grabbing her jaw to place a sloppy kids on her lips. 

“Mhmmm, just the way I like it.” 

They migrated to her bed shortly after, laying together in a comfortable silence. Anvika’s head was against his bare chest and herfingers traced the tattoos on his body. Lewis’ arm was around her waist and his hand massaged her plump bottom. 

They were tired, exhausted even. But, they fought sleep like children, internally afraid of what the morning would bring. All actions had consequences whether good or bad. It was a mutual hope that what they’d done wouldn’t bring on the latter. 

“Lewis?” Anvika called after some time. 

“Yes, angel?” 

“Are we gonna be okay?” Her voice trembled slightly. They’d crossed a line--a big one. She had wobbled on her boundaries. There was a lot to discuss and a lot to consider. It was an amazing experience, she couldn’t lie, but her biggest fear was that she’d lose him as an important person in her life if reality didn’t set in the way they intended. 

Lewis gave her a squeeze and brought his lips to her forehead. Sensing her worry, he reassured, “We’ll always be okay.” And she believed it.

[cinnaleaf]

「 Wildflower | One Shot 」

Anon Request: Trent x best friend!reader "Wildflower - Billie Eilish" | MASTERLIST

genre: pure angst wc: ~1.6k a/n: thank you for all your requests, i hope my interpretation fuels your angsty little hearts!

You never meant to love him like this.

Being his best friend wasn't supposed to hurt this bad. You were always in the background, like the wildflowers that grow on the side of the road. Delicate, yet resilient and waiting to be seen. You were always right in front of Trent, ready to give him everything but he kept looking past you and you hated it. Why were you still standing there, loving him when he already chose someone else?

Zoë.

You didn't hate her even though you really wanted to. She was pretty much everything you weren't. Her presence lit up any room, like a sunflower basking in the sun, drawing everyone's attention without doing much at all. Then there was you..a little wildflower growing in the shadows. Unnoticed. It wasn't Zoë's fault Trent treated you the way he did and you knew that, but you couldn't help feeling a little jealous every time you saw them together. You tried to ignore it, but you could feel Trent pulling away from you. He was being cold, distant, and mean. You didn't understand why and it hurt.

“I dunno why you're still here, Y/N,” Trent muttered in a sharp tone, pulling his hoodie over his head as he glanced at you. You were lounging on the couch, scrolling through your phone like you always did. The two of you grew up together and were practically inseparable, until now.

“Huh? What are you talking about?” you asked, feeling knots in your stomach. “You're always around,” he said, his gaze not quite meeting your eyes. “like I need you here or something.” His words slapped you in the face. You swallowed the lump in your throat, blinking back the tears threatening to spill over. “If you want me to leave..just say that. You don't have to be so damn rude about it.” Trent scoffed, running his hands over his face before looking back at you with cold eyes. “I'm saying it now, yeah?”

Something had changed, and you didn’t understand why.

“I know you don’t mean to hurt me, so I’ll keep it to myself” was like a mantra you kept repeating to yourself, willing yourself to believe it. You wanted it to be true so badly. You loved him but you wouldn't date admit it to him, especially not now.

You didn’t know he loved you just as much as you loved him. He tried so hard to avoid the feelings he had for you, even if it meant pushing you away. It wasn’t something he was ready to tackle yet. He was dating Zoë in an effort to distract himself from the way he felt about you. 

A couple of weeks later, you were at a random bar. It wasn't your usual spot, but Zoë invited you for whatever reason. She was sitting next to you, stirring her drink with a paper straw that was clearly getting soggy. You weren't close to her like you were with Trent, but she asked you to meet up and curiosity got the best of you. She was complaining for the last fifteen minutes, but you weren't really listening until something she said cut through the noise in your head.

“I don't know what's up with Trent,” Zoë said, sounding frustrated. “He doesn't even touch me like he used to anymore. He's there but he's not at the same time. I don't get it. He'll kiss me but then it's like his mind is somewhere else. It's so frustrating.” You froze as your fingers tightened around the glass in front of you. Every time Zoë told you something about him, it stung. He had been pulling away from you for months, but why was he pulling away from Zoë? Your heart did a stupid little flip, thinking maybe the reason he was acting so weird had to do with something else and not you.

“It's weird though,” Zoë added, not noticing the way your face went stone cold. “Sometimes he'll be staring at me and it's like he's trying, but then he just...doesn't.” Her words lingered in the air, you hated how much they made you yearn for something you never had. You wanted to know what it felt like to be held by him the way she did. You wanted to feel his lips on yours, his hands on your waist. You wanted him to really see you. But you weren't her. You weren't the sunflower in his life and it was crushing you.

“Maybe he's just stressed with the season? He gets intense sometimes…” you offered, knowing that probably wasn't it. All of you were lying. To yourself, and to each other. There was no good answer for any of this. Zoë nodded, continuing to swirl her drink as she pondered. “Maybe,” she sighed, resting her chin on her hand. “I really miss how it used to be when he’d come home from a match and kiss me like I was the only thing he cared about.” 

The thought of Trent kissing her and holding onto her like she was everything he needed made your chest tighten. You spent years being his best friend, hoping for scraps of affection just to not get any at all. Meanwhile, Zoë got all of it, even if it seemed to be fading.

It wasn't fair, but life never is. C'est la vie.

You stood in the stands of Anfield, surrounded by cheering fans. You shoved your hands deep into the pockets of your jacket. It was cold but Zoë's words still swirled around in your head, making you shiver. You didn't even know why you were at the match, but you were. You always went to every single one. Watching Trent move across the pitch was fun to look at any other time; he was a force out there. Would he even acknowledge you or look in the crowd for you like he used to? Or would you just be another face lost in a sea of red? You caught sight of Zoë a few rows in front of you, looking picture perfect as always. She was laughing with her friends, showing not a care in the world. Maybe they fixed things?

For the next 90 minutes your mind kept drifting, not focusing on the match at all. You wondered what it would be like having Trent come home to you, kissing you and telling you how much fun he had on the pitch. You used to be that person, albeit not in the way you wanted to be because there were never any kisses shared. Suddenly, it hit you in the middle of the match. You weren't jealous of Zoë, you were jealous of the version of Trent that was open and affectionate toward her. The version you never had and probably would never receive.

The crowd erupted into cheers after Liverpool secured the win. You should've been celebrating along with them but instead, you felt hollow. Your eyes followed Trent as he jogged off the pitch, he was in celebratory mode, joking with the team and laughing. He glanced at the stands for a quick second, and you thought maybe he was looking for you. Your heart did that stupid little flip again, even though you knew better. His eyes landed on Zoë and your stomach dropped. 

You couldn't do this anymore.

Without taking a second to think, you slipped out of your seat and headed to the exit as the noise of the stadium faded into the background. You didn't want to be there when he walked over to her and wrapped his arms around her. You can't look. Not tonight. Not ever again.

Your phone pinged as you made your way through the crowd but you ignored it. It was probably just a group chat about the match or a text from someone checking to see if you were still at the stadium. It really didn't matter anymore because you weren't coming back. You pushed through the exit, walking for what seemed like forever. You didn't want to stop because stopping meant thinking, and you did not want to think about Trent right now. He was never going to see you the way you saw him and you were done waiting for it to happen. Did he even notice that you were gone?

He noticed. 

The seat you always sat in was empty. He got used to scanning the crowd for you, it was his usual routine. You would always give him a smile or a thumbs up, but tonight there was nothing. 

Zoë was next to him talking about dinner plans, but he wasn't really listening. He couldn't stop thinking about you, and he knew he messed up. Something in his heart tugged, it was a feeling that had been there for a couple of months now. He kept ignoring it because it was easier that way. Pushing you away and acting like nothing changed was easier than admitting he loved you. And now you weren't there.

He glanced at Zoë, who was on her phone posting a picture they took post match. She didn't notice he was quiet, but he knew you would've noticed. You were always there through everything. The good, the bad, the ugly, the wins, and the losses. You were his rock, his constant. But he was so wrapped up in his own bullshit that he was scared to admit you were more than a friend to him. 

You were his wildflower, always there, waiting for him to see you. For the first time he realized he was too busy chasing the sun to notice the beauty growing that was right beside him for years. 

You were his everything, and now you were gone.

[lot-of-nothing]

Entwined (Ch. 2)

Melissa Schemmenti x Reader

After what you thought was a wonderful night together, Melissa leaves you feeling cold.

Warnings: Toxic Melissa, smut, and very veiled internalized homophobia

Author's Note: Thank you guys so much for all the love with the first chapter. And a huge thank you to @alexusonfire for being my beta <3

Link to Chapter 1

While a comfort show played in the background, you swiped mindlessly on a dating app. There was a part of you that felt as if you were betraying Melissa by doing so, but then again, she dated and even married without much of a thought about you or your relationship. The women you swiped on all seemed nice enough, but they were no Melissa Schemmenti. 

You were drawn from your phone when the redhead let herself into your home and held up a Tupperware container to you as she walked past you and into your kitchen. Your eyes followed her sweat pant clad hips the entire time she spoke to you, “I brought puttanesca, and I forgot my show is on in fifteen, so we have to postpone the sex for an hour.”

“You didn’t have to come.” Your response was automatic. By no means were you trying to get her to leave, but she shouldn’t feel so beholden to come by when your relationship was so casual. 

Mel paused briefly, glancing over her shoulder with furrowed brows, “Since when did you play all hard to get?”

Rather than respond to her, you turned back to face the television with a roll of your eyes. It was never really worth starting trouble with Melissa. Instead, it is best to just pick and choose your battles. 

When she emerged from the kitchen, she was carrying two bowls that she must have pulled from your cabinets. There was a pang in your chest at seeing Mel be so domestic in your own home. It was a sight you yearned for, yet you knew it was best not to get used to it. 

She passed off a bowl to you with a commanding tone,  “Eat.”

Taking the bowl into your hands, you passed off the remote in return, “What are we watching?” 

“Real Housewives.” Mel asked with her mouth full and her forearm covering her mouth from your view. When she finished chewing, she took the phone from your hand and began flipping through the channels in search of her favorite tv show. 

You rolled your head over to stare at Melissa with an unenthused reaction - a bit overdramatic, but it reflected your overall disinterest in the reality program. 

Mel wouldn’t even give you a glance as she found the right channel. She only held up a hand and sassed you, “I don’t need your shit. Now shhh! It’s starting.”

—

Melissa was on you in an instant when her show was through. She threw her leg over your lap, straddling you with a smirk, “And now I’m ready for ‘ya.”

“Now you’re ready?” You let out a breathy laugh and ran your fingers up her thighs to squeeze her hips. Watching her lips expectantly, you began moving her shirt up slowly. You couldn’t help it as your heartbeat quickened in pace - Melissa was just far too gorgeous. 

Melissa began rocking slowly in your lap and you nearly melted as her manicured hands found your cheeks with a hum, “Mhmm...”

She dove down for your lips without any further hesitation. Her kisses were deep and hungry which was often evidence of her impatience. Mel moved her hands from your face and used them to brace herself on the back of the couch. She would always do this, grinding and bucking against you so you would cave in and touch her. 

Like clockwork, you did as you were silently commanded, knowing she would only maintain control over you for a few minutes longer. You pulled down on her hips, guiding her to grind against you and earning a groan from her. 

The sound was your kryptonite. It was addicting.

You maneuvered swiftly to draw more sounds from her. One arm around her waist, guiding her to grind back and forth, while the other was pushed beneath the waistbands of her sweats and underwear. 

Satisfying her needy desires earned you deeper kisses and she moaned into your mouth as your fingers slipped through her folds, “Oh, Jesus..”

When you found she wasn’t as damp as you liked, you withdrew your hand from her underwear. Parting your kiss, you pushed your fingers past your lips and swirled your tongue around the digits. 

Spit drenched your fingers when you guided them back to her clit, and the newfound wetness caused her to gasp. 

She looked so perfect like this. Forehead pressed to yours. Flyaways of red hair framing her face and dancing in your periphery. Jaw slack with her eyes screwed shut. Soft moans rising from her throat with every shift of your fingers. Her soft breasts threatened to spill from her tank top with every thrust of her hips. Every few moments your name was huffed in the most beautiful, desperate tone. Her hands shifting rapidly between the couch and your shoulders as she sought contact while also attempting to brace herself. 

You cooed to her softly, knowing all she needed now was praise. “Pretty girl… so beautiful aren’t you?” 

She knew the drill. Melissa knew to answer your question promptly if she wanted you to continue playing with her. She let out a strangled hum to avoid taking away too much of her attention from her own orgasm, “Mhmm.”

Your fingers danced gently at the edges of her face, tucking hair behind her ears. You wanted to kiss her cheeks, but you refrained from the gentle intimacy to avoid spooking Melissa.Your next question flowed from your lips with a tone dripping with intense desire, “Are you gonna make yourself cum on my fingers?”

Mel was doing all the work at this point. Her hips ground erratically, hinting she was getting incredibly close to her climax. She could only answer your question with a strangled hum. “Mhmm.”

“What was that, hon?” You drew your hand back an inch, earning a desperate and frustrated gasp from the redhead. 

Her eyes flickered open and you were suddenly face to face with her wild, green hues. Mel was obviously upset with how you were teasing her, but it was laughable with how quickly she folded in the bedroom. Her willpower was all but nonexistent when your hand was down her pants. 

She gasped and bucked her hips upward in search of your hand, “Yes… Oh god, yes please…”

“It almost sounds like Melissa Schemmenti is begging.” Your grin was evil as you slipped your fingers back to where they had been previously. The redhead went crazy in your lap, gasping and moaning as her hips writhed in order to achieve her orgasm. 

It only took her mere seconds to find it, and with a final buck of her hips, her face was buried into her crook of your neck as she rode out her orgasm and choked out, “Fuck you.”

—

Melissa was running her hands up and down your thighs as she went down on you. She would always get so lost in giving you head that she would come up for air with big gasps. And rarely did she ever stop right away after your orgasm, it typically took writhing and begging to pull her from her pussy eating trance.

When you came, your hips lifted into the air with Melissa’s face still attached - a sight to behold. Your final orgasm (or orgasms) came in a final set of three, rolling together in a way that had you sobbing out in search of reprieve. 

When you finally settled, Melissa rested her cheek on your mons and tucked her hands under your sides to better snuggle against you. “Give me a few minutes and then I’ll be ready for another go.” 

She always was so avid about giving head to you - a little fact that made you raise your eyebrows in questioning. After all, it seemed a little fruity for her to enjoy it as much as she did.

You had no complaints at the suggestion as your blissed out mind mulled over the events of the past half hour while your eyes focused on the lazily moving ceiling fan, “Mm... Sounds good to me.”

It was hard to draw your attention away from the red hair draped over your middle. And against your better judgment, you began twirling and untwirling the locks around your fingers. Her hair was silky to the touch and the smell of her rose scented shampoo and conditioner wafted up to you. 

“Wuddya think you’re doin’?” Mel’s tone seemed slightly annoyed, but she made no effort to move away from you or to get you to stop. 

“Oh, relax, tiger.” You teased Melissa, pushing your fingers against her scalp to rub gently. “You aren’t any less tough just ‘cause I’m playin’ with your hair.”

“Hmph.” Melissa begrudgingly turned her attention to the reality show that now graced the tv  She told herself that she would only have to allow for it until she was ready for another round of sex. 

Rarely would you get these soft moments of intimacy from her. Often she would leave or move away to prevent any prolonged contact like this, but something about spending time together before sex must have softened her up. This moment alone gave you the bittersweet feeling that you fit so well together, but you had to remind yourself of the constant heartbreak she caused you.

Episode after episode of miscellaneous reality television played before you checked in again with the redhead to see if you were done for the evening, “Mel?”

When no response came, you sat up at a low angle to look down at the woman who had fallen asleep on top of you. With a gentle hand, you combed red curls from her face to expose her features softened by slumber. Even with a quick glance of her sleeping face, you were pained by your yearning for her... as you knew the odds were not in your favor. 

No one could feel sorry for you. For decades you had inflicted this pain on yourself, letting her back in a moment's notice. And tragically, you worried this pattern was destined to repeat itself as Melissa had a way about her that felt addictive for you. 

So while you knew Melissa spending the night would not be good for your heart, you continued played with her hair until you finally fell asleep.

---

The next morning you woke up feeling incredibly stiff from your night spent on the couch. Worst of all, the redhead that had once been sleeping on your stomach was absent. Propping yourself up on your elbows, you looked around your home for evidence of Melissa’s presence, but her purse and jacket that once sat on a chair near the front door were now gone. 

As you looked around, you noticed that you were draped in a blanket and the television had been turned off. When you stood and glanced into the kitchen, your eyes caught a glimpse of the dinner dishes in the drying rack. 

You felt your cheek grow warm from the embarrassment. She couldn’t stick around to say goodbye, but she was a decent houseguest and washed the dishes? 

Retrieving your phone from the coffee table, you drop yourself down on the couch as you furiously type out a message to the redhead and hit send. 

Couldn’t say goodbye before you left?

Her reply came a few minutes later, and you could feel her attitude emanating from the screen - We aren’t dating. 

Maybe you should have thought it through more when you replied, but you sent the text anyway - That doesn’t mean I don’t care.

And it was no shock that all you received was radio silence from Melissa. It infuriated you that she couldn’t even send a simple text, a like, or even an emoticon in response. One day turned into a week which turned into a month, and finally there you were three months later with no response. 

You were so over it at this point. It was painful and embarrassing that you thought your night together of dinner, tv, and fucking felt so natural and fun - only for her to leave you high and dry before the sun rose. 

There was no reason to let Melissa Schemmenti make you feel like this again. It was finally time to move on, and you did with a simple notification from a dating app.

Link to Chapter 3

Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta

[neomujinjja]

Surprise!

Pairing: S.Coups x reader

Length: 633 words Genre: Fluff

Warning: Not edited, bonus scene

Synopsis: Your boyfriend lies to you, saying that he can't make it to your showcase. Little do you know, he plans to surprise you

Note: y'all do not want to know how long i was sitting on this one 😬

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

"Are you sure you won't be able to make it?" you ask with a pout to your boyfriend on the other end.

"Yeah. I'm sorry, baby. I'll make it up to you" he says causing your pout to deepen further. You were looking forward to this event and it would be even better if Seungcheol could attend.

"Okay..don't work too hard" you tell him, trying to hide any sadness in your tone. You understood that he couldn't exactly peel away from work like others, but that didn't mean you weren't somewhat disappointed. "Can you stay on the phone with me a little more?" you asked Seungcheol, your finger absentmindedly drawing patterns onto the bench.

"O-"

Before he could start responding, a voice interrupted him in the background. "Hyung! We got to get back!" one of the boys shouted. Your boyfriend apologized as he informed you that he had to go, and you barely had time for Love you's and goodbye as he hung up. You sighed as you set your phone down to your lap.

"What's wrong?" Prang, a fellow artist, asked as they looked over at you.

"Nothing."

"Doesn't seem like nothing. Just spill, it might help you feel better."

"It's not that bad. It's just that my boyfriend won't be able to show up and I barely got to talk with him just now."

"That's tough.." Prang trailed off and you could see that they were trying to think of something to say.

"It's alright. I know he'd show up if he could, it's just work is keeping him. You don't need to try and comfort me" you told the clay artist as you patted their arm. Prang jokingly let out a sigh, wiping their forehead and putting their hand to their chest in a dramatic manner. The two of you laughed, Seungcheol not coming temporarily leaving your mind.

"Ready to do this you guys?" Cara asked as she came from the corner; she was the other artist on display for this event. You and Prang nodded simultaneously, still a little out of breath from the laughter. "Good cause Cubi is asking we head over to get started" Cara said as she clapped her hands together and pointed back in the direction she came.

-

"Excuse me, how much are you selling this painting for?" You turned at the familiar voice, your jaw dropping as you saw Seungcheol's smiling face.

"What are you doing here? You said you wouldn't make it!" you exclaimed to the male as you hit him on the bicep. Seungcheol laughed, feigning pain as he did. Your boyfriend grab your hand, lacing his fingers in with yours.

"I lied. Wanted to surprise you" he said as he handed you the flowers that he brought. You jokingly glared at him, to which your boyfriend only laughed some more.

"That's not funny" you said as you pulled your hand away to playfully pinch at the male's sides.

"Aww, I'm sorry baby" Seungcheol teased you despite the pout on his lips. He wrapped you up in his arms, giving your cheek a kiss and swaying the two of you lightly.

"You have to make it up. I want a hundred kisses in compensation" you tell your boyfriend, staring up at him with your own pout. Seungcheol nodded, giving you a kiss on your other cheek before pulling away from you.

Bonus

"Go, look at my other works or check out Prang's and Cara's stuff" you urged your boyfriend. He had been following after you as if he was a puppy dog. "I'll find you at the end, okay baby". You gave Seungcheol a kiss before moving to greet someone. And if the both of you had to give the other 100 kisses in compensation later that night, neither of you complained.

[genericpuff]

On this week's episode of "Webtoon Controversies That Could Have Been Avoided If Only They Had Some Damn Quality Control"-

Oh boy, prepare yourselves, there's some TEA on this one.

Quantum Entanglement, a new Webtoon Originals series from creator Arts Angel (aka Sarah Ellerton) is uh... a teeny weeny painfully obvious that it was made with AI.

AI is getting better, but when it comes to comics, there are still a lot of "tells" you can pick up on once you know where to look. Hands are certainly one of them.

Not knowing how to draw hands efficiently and consistently is definitely an Artist Problem(tm) but it becomes a lot more obvious it was made by AI when you get weird little off-putting mistakes like a fingernail being just a little too long or missing joints (hot dog fingers, eyo) or the distinction between fingers not being clear.

But there's also hair and other detailed parts that are often lost in the translation process between prompt to final piece. Jewelry, text on a screen, phones, that sort of thing. The insinuation of a 'thing' is there, but it's like looking at it through a fishbowl.

And ultimately, a lot of AI art tends to just be a little too 'perfect'. Everything is just a little too smooth for it to look like it was naturally made by a person. Faces end up veering into the uncanny valley territory and there are inconsistencies between the eyes and the rest of the body. Backgrounds become lost in what I like to call "AI goop", becoming nothing more than weird blurred/filtered out insinuations of what's supposed to be behind the character.

Basically, at this point, it's undeniably clear that AI is being used to create this comic. While there are also plenty of signs in the handiwork that show a human was involved in some parts, there are other places that are undeniably filled in with the use of AI. So it's not necessarily a 100% made-by-AI comic, but it's absolutely AI assisted.

But what's REALLY absurd about this whole situation? The creator denies it. To the point of including a disclaimer in the first episode trying to "get ahead" of people who are assuming it's AI by saying, "No, it's not made with AI, here's the proof! Don't look at the blood on my hands or the body in the trunk of my car!"

Now, first off, the absolute absurdity of making yourself look guiltier by trying to prove your innocence before people have even started to suspect you... I'd like to think that this was edited into the first episode after the initial accusations started rolling in but considering it's an Originals series, it's hard to know if it was, as creators typically don't get as much control over just editing their episodes on the fly like Canvas creators do. Typically it's their editors who do that sort of thing for them. And even if it was edited in afterwards, it's still there for people who have no idea going into the comic blind and might not automatically assume it was made with AI, so it just looks like you're bringing up the potential of AI being used completely unprovoked. By planting the idea in your audience's brain that AI is even a question, you're making them suspect everything.

It's kind of like when Dream was suspected of cheating in a way-too-lucky-to-be-real speedrun of Minecraft a couple years back, so he went to all these painstaking efforts of hiring a quantum physicist to "prove" his innocence with a straight up THESIS documenting all of the reasons he couldn't have cheated through math and figures and jargon. Ironically, this just made Dream look guiltier, and sure enough, he eventually admitted he had cheated.

That said, did you notice something in that "art process" pic?

That finished panel isn't even what showed up in the final comic.

So the absurdity of this all, again, just makes Arts Angel look a lot more guilty of actually using AI, especially when it's basically undeniable in so many of those panels above. People don't paint like that.

But that brings us to talking about Sarah Ellerton, aka "Arts Angel", the creator. Many long-time readers of her work are defending this, claiming that she has, in fact, "always drawn like this".

What's insane? She actually is who she says she is. This isn't like some kid who came out of the woodwork with AI and claiming that they had 20 years of experience, Sarah Ellerton's main site, The Seraph-Inn, has been live and crawled by Wayback Machine as far back as 2005.

And you can see the art evolution over the years, starting with Inverloch-

-into Phoenix-

-and all the way to Immaterial-

But here's the thing about that last comic. The main protagonist is, apparently, the same girl from Quantum Entanglement, the newest installment in this series where it becomes abundantly clear the creator has started using AI.

You can see the effects of this being parsed through AI, because she's gone from being a unique character with two-toned hair and darker skin, to being turned into a generic Instagram anime girl. And lemme tell you, AI used in comics has NOT gotten better at depicting darker-skinned characters (I actually tested an AI-coloring tool WT was planning on putting out a year or two ago, it was uh... not great.)

But the most damning thing about Sarah?

She works in IT.

That on its own wouldn't be so telling if it weren't for the 20 years she clearly spent actually honing her craft, only to suddenly switch to using AI as a crutch.

Quantum Entanglement was picked up for Originals in July 2023. It launched two days ago, with four free to read episodes and 6 more under the FastPass paywall. Three months after it got picked up. That turnaround speed is insane for an Originals series. Now, I'm more inclined to believe that maybe she's using the exact same pages she used in the Canvas version (there's unfortunately no way of checking through Wayback, it never crawled the Canvas version, so unless someone has backups of the Canvas pages they're willing to share, we'll never know) but that short turnaround time is insane for a comic that's this insanely detailed. It likely means they didn't need much pre-production time to get a strong buffer going, and that it doesn't take them as long to produce these episodes on a weekly basis so they could be under way less crunch than creators who do this by hand.

By comparison, the winners of the Call to Action contest from last year are STILL working on their pre-production. Many other greenlit Canvas series are known for getting picked up and stuck in pre-production for several months and even a year or more simply due to how the company operates with when it chooses to launch these series and how much pre-production is necessary. Some creators have literally said that their pre-production was done, but WT still kept them waiting to launch. So three months for a freshly greenlit Canvas series to launch is NOT the norm.

All that said, I feel for the people who are trying to defend her. But it's so undeniably AI with the creator herself providing fake proof that it makes it really sad to think that this person was honing their craft for 20 years just to wind up utilizing AI. Being a good artist does not make you immune to the temptation of using cheap methods or developing bad habits. Going through "the struggle" does not make you immune to taking shortcuts that wind up cheapening your work or taking advantage of the work of others.

Now, maybe Sarah trained AI around her art. If this didn't play out the way it did, I'd be willing to give her benefit of the doubt and assume that. Training AI off your own work, while still up for debate as to how ethical that is, at least doesn't hurt other artists, because it's your own work the AI is "stealing". There are definitely ways AI could be used to make life easier for artists without replacing the art process entirely, the same way artists have learned to use 3D assets and digital art filters to make their process more efficient and boost the quality of their art up to the next level.

But the fact that she's being so cagey over it, claiming she's not using AI period when she very clearly is, providing "proof" that actually proves she definitely used AI, while operating under a penname that's strangely similar to a name Grimes - former tech wife of Elon Musk and staunch supporter of AI - used for one of her studio albums-

- that's what makes it a lot more clear she's using it maliciously.

The AI is very likely trained off another artist's work. Maybe someone whose art style is similar enough to hers that she could integrate it into her own and pass it off as legitimate. Someone whose art style is cartoonish but still modern, like if Disney made anime. Someone who's so prolific and consistent in their stylization that training an AI off it would seem like a no brainer to those who want to replicate that style quickly and easily.

Damn. What a disappointment. Do better, Sarah.

And for god's sakes, Webtoons, pay more fucking attention. I've been steadily picking away at moving the entirety of my comics over to other platforms on a weekly schedule, but at this point I kinda just wanna dump the last 30 or so chapters onto ComicFury all at once so I can ditch this platform for good, especially if it turns out AI comics getting greenlit is a feature, not a bug. The ratings for Quantum Entanglement have dropped significantly overnight, now sitting around 5.09 and still dropping, but is Webtoons going to do anything about it? That remains to be seen.

[hunnysnoops]

˗ˋ𝕎𝕙𝕚𝕥𝕖 𝕋𝕖𝕖𝕥𝕙 𝕋𝕖𝕖𝕟𝕤ˊ˗

Chapter Thirteen: Circles

Kyle Broflovski x fem reader

You took my hand and then we both started running. There's no place to go.

Also available on Ao3 and Wattpad!

Premise: While you’re enjoying your new relationship with your boyfriend, it doesn’t come without its troubles

Warnings: smoking / suggestive

MASTERLIST

Walking through the crowded school hallway, you and Bebe laugh about the latest gossip circulating through the breath of students. The morning sun filters through the windows, casting a warm glow on the bustling students. Bebe tugs at your sleeve, pulling you closer as she recounts in detail each beat of how Dakota cheated on David.

You spent the whole summer anticipating the fall when you would be back in classes and bending over backwards to keep your grades up but now that it had finally rolled around, you missed summer and swore that you would be forever happy if it had been endless.

As you pass the lockers, you spot Kyle leaning against his, scrolling through his phone. Your heart skips a beat. It's been a couple months since you and Kyle started dating in secret, keeping your relationship hidden from friends and family. You liked to think you had kept the secret well, you had always been sneaky. It was your family you were worried about finding out, however, your friends have extremely large mouths a not a single thought they keep to themselves. 

Bebe continues chatting away, unaware of your sudden distraction. You slow your pace, letting her words fade into the background as you focus on Kyle. When he looks up and catches your eye, a smile spreads across his face and that is enough to melt you like butter.

You glance at Bebe, who's now frowning and looking between you and Kyle with a puzzled expression. 

"Hey, pretty princess," You say casually to Kyle, watching his smile drop immediately.

"What did you just say?" His eyebrows furrow and he's sure that he misheard you. He closes out of Hay Day momentarily to give his full attention to you.

"I said 'Hey, pretty princess'," 

"Don't call me that," Kyle tells you with a straight face. You were well aware of how much pet names made him want to crawl out from under his skin and chug back drain cleaner. The most you had ever gotten out of him was the lone time he called you babe and immediately went back on it. 

Your boyfriend telling you that pet names were annoying was a sure-fire way to make sure you call him every possible one you can think of "Okay, baby girl," 

As you walk past him with Bebe and towards that cafeteria you can feel his horrified gaze resting on your back. Moments later you can feel your phone buzz in your pocket. 

New Message- ugly piece of shit (boyfriend❤️)

ugly piece of shit (boyfriend❤️): You're not funny 

You: damn

ugly piece of shit (boyfriend❤️): I thought you didn't want your friends to know?? 

You: Yeah?

ugly piece of shit (boyfriend❤️): so why are you flirting at school? 

You: u think that's flirting????????????????

You: Who the hell raised u??????

ugly piece of shit (boyfriend❤️): bro

You: lose this number 

ugly piece of shit (boyfriend❤️): lmao

You: mf I see you down the hall

You: u r not laughing ur ass off 

ugly piece of shit (boyfriend❤️): bro

read at 12:47

You glance back at Kyle and quickly stick up your middle finger even though he is now focused on his conversation with Stan. The two of you weave through the throngs of students, sidestepping backpacks carelessly left in the middle of the hallway and dodging the occasional elbow. The walls are plastered with colourful posters announcing upcoming events: a pep rally, a bake sale, and field hockey tryouts. 

Bebe's voice rises above the din, drawing your attention back to her. She's talking about a new show she started watching, her excitement palpable. You smile, appreciating the way she can make even the most mundane topics seem fascinating. Her laughter rings out, a clear, bright sound that makes a few heads turn, but she doesn't seem to notice and if she had, she definitely didn't care.

"I swear to god, he looked like such an idiot," Bebe speaks animatedly "I think he's trying to go viral or something but he would only go viral for being so corny." 

"Yeah?" You feed into the rant.

"Yeah," She confirms "He stood on his desk today and made Emmet film him while he yelled something in some language I don't know. Seriously, I don't think I've ever seen Mrs. Miller so mad." Her face lights up with recollection "Oh! Except for that time, Eric brought a flask into class. That was so weird."

As you near the cafeteria doors, the noise level increases. The cacophony of clattering trays raised voices, and the occasional shout creates a symphony of chaos that somehow feels comforting in its familiarity. You push through the double doors, the cool air from the cafeteria's industrial-strength air conditioning hitting you like a refreshing breeze.

Inside, the room is a sea of faces, some familiar, some not. You scan the room briefly, looking for a free table. Bebe tugs at your sleeve, pointing towards a spot where a little handful of your friends are sitting. You follow her lead, navigating through the maze of tables and chairs, finally reaching your destination.

The moment you sit down, Annie perks up "Did you hear about Dakota and David?"

"Yes!" Bebe almost jolts up, she leans toward Annie while you reach next to you and take a tater tot from Nichole's tray, if she was bothered by this act, she gave no indication. You weren't sure you were hungry enough to wait in the lunch line for subpar food that would be cold by the time to got back to the table. 

Across the table, Red had a slice of pizza in one hand, her phone in the other, she didn't even look up when you sat down. She tended to have one foot in the real world and the other in her own realm.

"So, what's everyone doing this weekend?" Nichole asks, a small smile playing on her lips.

Before you can answer, Red casually says "Well, I'm sure she'll be hanging out with Kyle."

"Jeez, I feel like he's replacing me," Bebe mockingly pouts. 

"Yeah, why are you guys so buddy-buddy lately?" Annie turns not just her attention to you but the rest of the group in addition.

"Because they're dating," Red still doesn't look up from her phone. While the group falls silent, she huffs a quiet chuckle at something in her feed.

You feel the air go still, the background noise fading into a dull hum as all eyes turn to you. Your heart pounds, and your mind races, desperately seeking an escape. 

Bebe's eyebrows shoot up. "Kyle? You and Kyle are a thing?"

You force a laugh, shaking your head vigorously. "No, no, Red's just joking around."

Nichole leans in, her eyebrows drawn in skepticism. "I dunno, that didn't sound like a joke."

"Red, who told you that?" You look up at her with wide eyes, teeth grinding together in a wild smile that was supposed to mask the agitation that sparked in you.

"Tolkien, he said that Kyle told him after you guys kissed."

"What?" Nichole's eyes flicker between everyone at the table, trying to get a grasp on each girl's reaction. 

"You didn't tell me," Bebe says, irritation clear in her voice. You knew this would be a topic she would dangle over your head. 

"You didn't tell me either," Annie chimes in. 

"Uh, because I'm not dating him," You can feel the panic rising, your cheeks burning with the effort to maintain your composure. "Seriously, guys, it's nothing. Kyle and I are just friends."

Bebe crosses her arms. "Friends, huh? I'm pretty sure friends don't usually kiss."

"I have kissed half of the people at this table," You counter "On gospel, we are not dating."

"You don't give a shit about the gospel. Let me see your phone," Annie snatches it from your hands, expecting to see Kyle on the lock screen but her face quickly contorts in confusion "Is that Jeff Bezos?"

With haste, you grab it from her "No, it's Murr from impractical jokers."

"Why is he your lock screen?"

"Mind your damn business," You answer with discomposure. 

"So, you aren't dating but you did kiss him?" Nichole draws the conversation back to the original topic.

"Erm, no, gross," You say as convincingly as you could which wasn't very convincing at all. "I think he's super fucking ugly, he probably has at least two STDs."

“Bull shit," Bebe says "You didn't deny kissing him like three seconds ago and you've liked him since July."

"JULY?" Annie asks, mouth slightly agape. "You didn't tell me any of this."

"So when did you kiss him?" Nichole presses.

"I didn't-

"She kissed him at Morgan's party," Red answers, putting her phone down and swallowing back the last of her crust.

You have a look of murder on your face "What the fuck."

"It's not a big deal," She shrugs "Someone once told me- eat a snack and drink some juice, you'll be alright."

"Who?" You ask.

"You did when I greened out."

"Right."

"So you did kiss him at Morgan's and you are dating?" Nichole interjects once again to cut to the facts rather than the banter surrounding it.

For a moment you hang in the air like you had paused time to think of an answer but truthfully your friends finding out about your relationship wasn't so detrimental and lying would only spiral into something far worse. "Yeah," You mutter "We're dating."

"Oh my god," Nichole splits into a grin "After all of those years of trying to kill him and complaining non-stop that he was ruining your life?"

"Yup," you say, awkwardly.

"That's really funny actually," Bebe's anger over the fact you kept this hidden was temporarily alleviated by your confirmation. 

"Funny?" You ask. You didn't think your relationship was very funny.

"You have to admit it's funny," She shrugs, brushing a blonde curl away from her face "I was like 78% sure you were serious when you said you rather hang yourself than date him."

Nichole giggles, nudging you. "Was the rope too expensive?"

"No, I tried my best but it snapped," You say nonchalantly, trying to gain back some sort of composure.

It didn't take long for the little group to start shouting little quips to counter the last and ultimately leave you feeling annoyed and somewhat embarrassed as it seemed they would never let up with the teasing. 

You catch a glimpse of Tolkien walking past your table, his usual confident stride carrying him through the crowded cafeteria. He was carrying an assortment of goodies from the vending machine and heading back to his table. It must've been irritation that propelled you out of your seat before you even realized what you were doing.

You weave through the tables, your steps quick and purposeful, until you're close enough to grab his arm. He turns, surprised, his eyes wide as he takes in your furious expression.

"Why did you tell Red I kissed Kyle?" you hiss, your voice low but sharp enough to cut through the noise. You pull him aside, away from prying eyes and ears, and the hum of the cafeteria fades into the background.

His eyebrows furrow "Are you guys not dating? I'm confused."

"Yeah, but I wasn't going to tell people."

"What? Why?"

"Because the haters will pray on my downfall." you snap, your voice rising despite your efforts to keep it down.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" He glances around nervously, clearly uncomfortable with your intensity.

 "The haters," You reiterate like it made your point any clearer. 

"What haters? You're not a celebrity." One of the mini chip bags in his arms shifts and he fumbles around to be sure it doesn't hit the ground. 

"Be alert..." 

"What does that mean?" 

"Of the haters," You add.

"Oh my god," He mutters fighting the urge to roll his eyes "I don't know why you're chewing me out when Kyle's the one who told me. Take it up with him.”

That's exactly what you would do. Take it up with him. 

.˙꩜°˖:*࿔ ☼ ࿔*:˖°꩜˙.

While you had every intention of chewing Kyle out for letting the secret slip, things played out slightly differently. You're sprawled out on your bed, your textbooks and notes abandoned in a haphazard pile. Kyle's fingers trail up your arm, leaving a tingling path in their wake. His lips are warm and insistent against yours, and you lose yourself in the softness of his kiss.

Kyle's hand cradles the back of your neck, his touch both tender and firm, guiding you closer. Your hands are tangled in his hair, the soft strands slipping through your fingers as you pull him even nearer. The faint scent of his cologne mixes with the aroma of the burning passionfruit candle, creating a heady blend that makes your heart race. Every brush of his lips sends sparks through you, and you can feel the warmth of his breath on your skin.

All that matters is the feel of Kyle's lips on yours, the way his hands hold you as if you're something precious, something to be cherished. His thumb brushes lightly against your jaw, a small, almost absent-minded gesture that sends another shiver through you. Every touch, every kiss, is filled with reverence that makes you feel all the more cherished.

You tilt your head slightly, deepening the kiss, your tongue tentatively meeting his. Kyle responds with a soft groan, a sound that reverberates through your body, heightening your senses. His hand tightens on your waist, pulling you even closer as if he can't get enough of you.

Your kisses grow more urgent and demanding. His lips trail from your mouth to your jawline, planting soft, lingering kisses along your skin. You can't help but tilt your head back, giving him better access, losing yourself in the sensation of his mouth on your skin.

His kisses move to your neck, and you feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, sending another wave of shivers through you. He finds a particularly sensitive spot just below your ear, and when his lips brush against it, you let out a soft gasp, your fingers tightening in his hair.

"Kyle," you whisper, your voice breathless, filled with a mixture of need and adoration.

He pulls back slightly, his eyes meeting yours, and the intensity in his gaze makes your heart skip a beat. His hair is a mess, neck is littered with hickies that he would surely regret the next day when he would have to steal his mom's concealer to cover them up. He leans in, capturing your lips once more in a kiss that is both tender and passionate, a perfect blend that leaves you almost dizzy. 

His large hands eventually snake their way up your shirt and trail up your midriff to your back. He finds the clasp on your back, pinching the hooks until the bra comes undone completely. 

Kyle leans closer, his fingers brushing a stray hair from your face, and the touch sends a shiver down your spine. You want to freeze this moment, but reality crashes back in when you hear your dad's voice calling for you from the hallway. "Jellybean! Are you still home?" Panic seizes you, and your eyes widen as you scramble to sit up, pushing Kyle away from you.

Your dad was supposed to be at one of your neighbour's barbecues, but here he was- making his way upstairs and towards your bedroom.

"Kyle, hide!" you whisper urgently, your mind racing for a solution.

You glance around, jumping to your feet and awkwardly trying to rehook your bra. Your eyes settle on the closet and you push him towards it. It's a tight squeeze for someone as tall as Kyle, but there's no time to think. He ducks inside, and just as you're about to close the door, he accidentally bonks his head against the top of the frame. The sound is a dull thud, and he stifles a groan of pain.

"Yeah, I'm home!" You call back to your dad, grabbing Kyle's scattered things from the bed and shoving them beneath it. 

Your dad's footsteps draw closer, and you throw yourself back onto the bed, grabbing your phone to feign nonchalance. The door creaks open, and your dad peeks in, his eyes scanning the room.

"Hey, Jellybean," He smiles, leaning against the doorway.

"Hey," You try for a casual smile "Why are you home already?"

"I forgot to grab the t-shirts I made for Earl and the boys," He answers and you nod slowly, waiting for him to explain why he was in your bedroom. “Oh," He fumbles around in his pocket for his phone and briefly taps around before turning the screen to face you "Is this you and Kyle?"

It's a photo of both yours and Kyle's faces that had been strung up on the wall of disallowed entry at the movie theatre. You had almost forgotten entirely of the day that you and he had gone to the theatre with the intention of watching a corny movie and ended up near a simple assault charge that you narrowly escaped.

You shake your head, trying to soothe the adrenaline that began pumping through you "Nope."

"Really?" Your dad furrows his eyebrows, looking at the picture again "It looks just like you two."

"Yeah, it does," You keep your voice as nonchalant as possible.

He holds the phone up in the air, looking back and forth from your face to the screen. After a moment of awkward silence, there's a thump from the closet and your dad looks up "What was that?"

"Eugene, he lives in the crawlspace," You answer, face dead serious.

Your dad shrugs and tucks his phone back into his pocket. "Dang. I outta get back before that brisket is done," He lets out a low whistle at the thought of a juicy slab of smoked meat. 

"Okay, see ya," Relief finally washes over you as you try not to glance back toward the closet. 

Just as he turns to leave he quickly swivels his head back to look at you "Oh, I meant to ask- why is Kyle's car in the driveway?"

"It's not." 

"Oh," His eyebrows furrow for a moment as he thinks and then slowly, he nods "Okay." It was moments like these where it was definite he was Weston's father. 

He leaves, and you let out a sigh of relief, your heart still pounding. You wait a few moments to make sure he's really gone and when you hear the front door click shut, you hurry over to the closet and open the door. Kyle steps out, rubbing his head where he must have bonked it on the closet ceiling. He's tall enough that the cramped space was clearly a tight fit.

You look at the little red spot on his hairline where he must've cracked his head against the frame and suck a breath through your teeth "Sorry." 

"Ow," he mutters, frowning at you slightly. But then his eyes catch on something behind him, and his expression shifts from annoyed to confused. "Why do you have a Rubbermaid that says 'devious licks' in your closet?"

"Oh," You look past him at the bin and then a wide smile breaks over your face and you begin to laugh. You pull the bin out and kneel beside it as you take the lid off. Inside are little trinkets you've 'borrowed' from friends and family over the past few years. You can't help but giggle, finding the whole situation absurdly funny.

"Did you steal all of that?"

"It's just for fun," you say with a shrug, still chuckling. "When I get really mad at someone, I take something from them to inconvenience them." You begin to rifle through the bin, almost reminiscing about all of the things you had taken and the memories attached. 

But Kyle doesn't laugh. In fact, his frown deepens, and he steps back, shaking his head. "That's not funny. It's stealing. That's a crime. What if someone realizes something important is missing?"

"That's kinda the point," You answer. The bin is filled with an assortment of items: a handful of pens, a couple of keychains, wallets, a pair of sunglasses, and various other small objects you've filched over time from more people than you could even recall.

 Kyle bends down, his hair still messy from your fingers slipping through it "What is this?" He picks up a long silver necklace with a large pendant dangling from the bottom "Is this a coke necklace?"

You laugh slightly "Those are Mr. Tennorman's ashes."

"WHAT?" He drops it, instinctively wiping his hands on his pants. "You stole someone's ashes?"

"Yup," You say nonchalantly, still digging through the belongings "It's just Cartman's dad." 

He looks back down, the glimmer of something bronze catching his eye. Immediately, he snatches it from the bin and inspects it, eyes growing wide with horror "Is this my grandpa's holocaust ring?"

You pause, slowly looking up at him "I didn't know it was a holocaust ring at the time." 

"When did you take this?" His voice was beginning to rise and the agitation was unmissable. 

You stop laughing, the light mood evaporating in an instant. You hadn't expected him to react like this. You thought he might find it as amusing as you did. Instead, he's staring at you with a mix of disappointment and anger that makes your stomach twist uncomfortably. "Two years ago when you and Stan were making fun of me after I lost that goal at my soccer game." 

Kyle sighs, running a hand through his hair. He is trying his best to keep his cool, but the pool of misdemeanours below him isn't helping in the slightest. Kyle takes a deep breath in an attempt to sort this through without yelling at you "What's the last thing you've stolen." 

You look around for a moment before holding up a bottle of liquor "I took it last week."

"Oh god," He mutters.

"What? Is it bad?"

"That's a three thousand dollar bottle of tequila," His jaw is clenched and for a moment you think he might burst a vein in his head. 

"Dang, that's expensive," You suck a sharp breath through your teeth 

"You should've thought about that before you stole it."

You shrug "Well, I didn't." 

"That's it?" He asks.

"What?"

"You don't care?" 

"What the hell are you talking about?" You furrow your eyebrows.

"This!" He gestures at the Rubbermaid before dropping to his knees, sifting through the contents "Wallets, wedding rings, perfume, the fucking ornament I made when I was eight," Looking down, he was struck with the realisation that a large sum of the trinkets in the bin had been his at one point or another. "You really don't care that you took all of this?"

"It already happened," You say.

Kyle holds up a familiar scarf, one you remember swiping from a girl in your study group. His eyes narrow as he turns to face you. "What the hell is this?" His voice is low, a storm brewing beneath the surface.

You roll your eyes, trying to laugh it off. "Oh, come on, it's fun. No one even notices."

Kyle's eyes flash with anger. "Fun? You think stealing is fun?" His voice rises, each word punctuated by his growing fury. He steps closer, and you can see the tension in his jaw, the way his fists clench at his sides.

You start to feel the edges of your amusement crumble, replaced by a prickling unease. "Kyle, calm down. It's not that big of a deal," you say, your voice quieter now, trying to soothe the situation.

But he's not having it. "Not a big deal? This is serious! What's wrong with you?" His voice is loud now, filling the room, and echoing off the walls. He's yelling, and it hits you like a bullet to the skull.

You shrink back, your laughter dying on your lips. The air feels heavy, pressing down on you, making it hard to breathe. You look away, staring at the pattern on the bedspread, tracing the lines with your eyes, anything to avoid his piercing gaze.

Silence falls, thick and oppressive. Kyle's breathing is heavy, ragged, as he stands there, waiting for you to say something, to explain. But you can't find the words. They're stuck in your throat, tangled up with your fear and shame. You bite your lip, the taste of copper filling your mouth.

Finally, Kyle lets out a frustrated sigh. "I just-" He pauses "I don't get you," he mutters, turning away, his shoulders slumping. He walks back to the bed and sits down heavily, the mattress sinking under his weight. The music is still playing, the songs flickering by, unnoticed.

You sit in silence, the stolen items now a glaring reminder of your actions, of the chasm that has suddenly opened up between you and Kyle. You want to reach out, to bridge the gap, but you don't know how. So you sit there, quiet and still like you're in a crime scene.

.˙꩜°˖:*࿔ ☼ ࿔*:˖°꩜˙.

You spent hours getting ready, meticulously styling your hair, and carefully applying your makeup. You chose your favourite dress, a soft, flowing fabric that makes you feel beautiful and confident. The anticipation is almost unbearable, your heart thumping with excitement. 

You're standing in front of the mirror, adjusting the delicate chain of your necklace, the pendant resting just below your collarbone. Your reflection shows a girl who has taken extra care tonight to be sure her makeup is flawless, a hint of highlighter accentuating your cheekbones, and your lips painted with a soft gloss. Your dress, a soft shade of blue that brings out the colour in your eyes, fits perfectly, swaying gently as you move. You've been looking forward to this date with Kyle all week.

The sound of a car horn outside snaps you out of your reverie. You grab your clutch, giving yourself one last glance in the mirror before heading downstairs. The evening air is warm, a gentle breeze rustling the leaves of the trees lining your street. Kyle is waiting by his car, leaning casually against the door, a small smile playing on his lips as he sees you approach. He looks effortlessly handsome, his ginger hair tousled just right, and his eyes sparkling in the fading light.

"You look beautiful," he says, his voice warm and genuine as he opens the car door for you.

"Thank you," you reply, feeling a blush creep up your neck. "You did your hair all nice for me."

As you settle into the passenger seat, Kyle walks around to the driver's side, sliding in with an easy grace. The car starts with a soft purr, and soon you're driving through the familiar streets of your neighbourhood, the anticipation of the evening making your heart flutter. You chat about your day, the conversation flowing easily, but as the drive continues, you notice Kyle taking turns that lead away from the downtown restaurants and cafes.

The drive starts off light and cheerful. You talk animatedly about a new café you've heard about, suggesting it as a possible destination for a study session. Kyle nods and smiles, his responses a bit more subdued than usual, but you brush it off, attributing it to the lingering tension.

As you continue to chat, you start to notice the route Kyle is taking. It's not towards any of your usual spots. The streets become less familiar, and your excitement starts to wane, replaced by a creeping confusion. "Where are we going?" you ask, trying to keep your tone light and playful, though a hint of unease slips through.

Kyle doesn't answer right away, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. "It's a surprise," he finally says, but there's something in his voice that makes your stomach twist.

There's a part of you that thinks he's preparing to drive the both of you off of a bridge or dump your body off the interstate from his rigid posture alone. 

You try to guess, throwing out suggestions, but each one is met with a noncommittal hum. The unease grows, gnawing at your excitement. When he finally pulls into the parking lot of the community center, your confusion peaks. "Kyle, what are we doing here?" you ask, your voice a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

He turns off the engine and looks at you, his eyes soft but determined. He reaches out and takes your hand, his touch warm and firm. "I need you to trust me," he says, his voice gentle. He gets out of the car and comes around to open your door, helping you out.

Holding your hand, he leads you inside, the fluorescent lights of the community center casting a sterile glow. Your heart pounds in your chest as you walk down a hallway, past bulletin boards covered in flyers for various local events and activities.

He stops in front of a door with a whiteboard nailed into the wall next to it that reads 'Shoplifters Anonymous Meeting' in purple dry-erase. Your heart drops, and you look at him, your eyes wide with shock. "Kyle, what is this?" you whisper, the words barely escaping your lips.

Kyle squeezes your hand gently, his expression deadly serious. "I know you don't think it's a big deal, but it is. You need help and they can give you that." He nods his head to the room. 

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes. You open your mouth to argue, to tell him that you don't need this, but the words fail you, something you weren't used to. Truly, you were speechless. 

He creaks the door open, one hand on the small of your back as he guides you inside. "I'll pick you up in an hour," he says softly, leaning in to kiss your forehead. His lips are warm, a stark contrast to the cold shock that has settled in your chest. "Please, just give it a chance."

Before you can protest, he turns and walks away, leaving you standing in the hallway. The door to the meeting room looms in front of you, and you feel like you're rooted to the spot. The reality of the situation crashes over you in waves. Kyle has seen through your facade, past the laughter and the dismissive jokes, to the part of you that you've tried to ignore.

The meeting room is small and somewhat stuffy, the air thick with a mix of various perfumes and colognes. Folding chairs are arranged in a circle, and as you sit down, the cold metal presses into your back, making you shift uncomfortably. Your heart still pounds from the shock of Kyle's ambush, anger bubbling just beneath the surface.

The leader of the group, a middle-aged woman with kind eyes, starts speaking, welcoming everyone. Her voice is calm and soothing, but it grates on your nerves. You clench your fists in your lap, trying to steady your breathing. You don't belong here. This isn't you.

The others begin to share their stories, each one more heart-wrenching than the last. You listen, but the words barely register. Your mind is racing, a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. You're furious with Kyle for bringing you here, for thinking you needed this. 

God, you felt like an idiot. You had spent so long getting ready, wearing a pretty dress for your boyfriend just to be shoved in a room with thieves. 

The leader, Ellen, scans the room, and you feel a prick of anxiety as they land on you. "We have a new member today," she says, her voice warm but firm. "Would you like to introduce yourself?"

Your heart pounds in your chest, and you can feel the eyes of the other attendees on you, their curiosity palpable. "I'm not a shoplifter," you say entirely too fast. You weren’t wrong, you were in fact- not a shoplifter though it wasn’t far off from a kleptomaniac which you definitely were.

"That's okay. Not everyone here is a shoplifter either,” Ellen speaks softly "Would you mind telling us why you're here if you're comfortable?"

"I'm just here to observe," you say quickly, hoping to deflect the attention. "I don't really have anything to share."

Ellen nods, but her gaze remains steady, unyielding. "That's okay. We're glad you're here. Can you tell us a little about why you're observing?"

You bristle at the question, feeling cornered. "My boyfriend thought it would be a good idea," you reply, trying to keep your tone light, and dismissive. 

"Why would he think that?"

"He thinks that I have a problem." 

The room is silent, the air thick with unspoken questions. Ellen doesn't let you off the hook. "What kind of problem does he think you have?"

You fidget with the hem of your dress, your fingers twisting the fabric. "He thinks I steal things," you say reluctantly, your voice barely above a whisper. "And I do, but not from stores. It's just some little things from other people."

Ellen's eyes soften, but her expression remains serious. "Stealing, even in small amounts, can be a sign of deeper issues. It's good that you're here, whether you think it's a big deal or not. What kind of things have you taken?"

You feel a surge of anger, a burning frustration that makes you want to lash out. "I don't see why it matters," you snap, your voice louder than you intended. 

Ellen nods, absorbing your words with a calm patience that only fuels your irritation. "Sometimes, we take things to fill a void or cope with stress. Have you thought about why you might be doing it?"

You cross your arms over your chest, your posture is defensive. "I don't know," you say, looking away. "It's not that deep."

"Okay, maybe you'll be more comfortable sharing next time." You didn't intend for there to be a next time. 

The group seems to move on quickly and you wander away from all conversation, finding a nice spot to settle inside your thoughts. It had been years since you felt like this much of a fool. It was about halfway through the meeting when you couldn't take it anymore. 

You push open the door and step into the hallway, the cool air a welcome relief from the stifling room. You make a beeline for the exit. The need for a cigarette is overwhelming, a desperate craving that you can't ignore. Outside, the late day sun is almost gone entirely as night begins to swallow up the sky, making you squint as you search through your bag for your lighter. Panic sets in when you realize it's not there; you must have left it in Kyle's car.

A string of curses escapes your lips as you look around frantically. Your eyes land on a purse left carelessly on a bench in the hallway. Without thinking, you reach in and pull out a lighter, the metal cool and smooth in your hand. The irony isn't lost on you, but you're too angry and desperate to care.

You step outside and light a cigarette, the first drag calming your nerves slightly. You start to walk, the rhythm of your steps a temporary distraction from the chaos in your mind. The smoke curls around you, a familiar comfort, but today it feels different, tainted by the bitter taste of your emotions.

Tears sting at your eyes, and you angrily wipe them away, but they keep coming, blurring your vision. You're furious with Kyle for putting you in this position, and for forcing you to face something you're not ready to confront. But as you walk, the anger shifts, turning inward.

You hate yourself for your bad habits, for the stealing, for the smoking. Each puff of the cigarette feels like a failure, a reminder of all the ways you've let yourself down. The tears flow more freely now, and you don't bother to stop them. You walk faster, trying to outrun the feelings, but they cling to you, weighing you down.

The familiar streets blur as you walk, and you're not sure where you're going. You just need to move, to keep going, to do something, anything to escape the overwhelming tide of emotions. But it's no use. The guilt and shame, the anger and bitterness, they all crash over you, a relentless wave that you can't fight.

You come to a stop, your legs shaking, your breath coming in ragged gasps. The cigarette burns down to the filter, and you drop it, grinding it into the pavement with the heel of your shoe. You wrap your arms around yourself, trying to hold on, to keep from falling apart completely.

You've walked for what feels like an eternity, the community center far behind you. Each inhalation a struggle against the sobs threatening to escape. The cigarette you discarded lies crushed on the pavement and you think about lightning another.

Suddenly, the sound of a car pulling up beside you breaks through the haze. You glance over, your heart skipping a beat when you see Kyle's familiar car. The window rolls down, and there he is, his eyes wide with concern.

"Hey," he calls out, his voice a mix of worry and relief. "What are you doing?"

You shake your head, biting the inside of your cheek to fight the sob you desperately want to let out. "Just stop." 

His eyebrows furrow and then he gets a good look at your face and the realization strikes him like a wave of guilt "Are you crying?" 

"Fuck off," You answer, turning away from him and continuing to walk. 

"Shit," He mutters, quickly emerging from his car. 

You stop walking, your body trembling with a mix of exhaustion and emotion. You try to speak, but the words catch in your throat, choked by the tears. Instead, you just stand there, looking at him, your face a mess of smeared makeup and raw emotion.

Kyle gets out of the car and walks over to you, his movements hesitant, as if he's not sure how to approach. When he reaches you, he gently takes your hands in his, his touch warm and grounding. "What happened?" he asks softly, his eyes searching yours for answers.

You finally find your voice, though it's weak and shaky. "I couldn't stay," you manage to say, flat. "I couldn't do it. It was too much." 

Quickly you retract your hands from Kyle's, looking at him with a fury he hadn't seen in ages. 

"How could you do this to me, Kyle?" you yell, your voice cracking with a mix of rage and tears. "How could you ambush me like that?"

Kyle stops in his tracks, his eyes wide with shock. "I was trying to help—"

"Help?" you cut him off, your voice rising. "You think dragging me to some meeting with strangers was helping? You blindsided me! You embarrassed me!"

He steps towards you, his expression pleading. "I didn't know what else to do. I'm worried about you."

Your chest heaves with each breath, the tears flowing freely now, hot and relentless. "You think I don't know what I'm doing is bad?" you shout, your voice trembling with the weight of your emotions. "It isn't easy for me, Kyle!" 

He looks at you, his eyes filled with pain and helplessness. "I just want to help you," he says quietly. "I don't know what else to do."

Kyle reaches out, but you step back, shaking your head. "It's a fucking compulsion, I've been doing it for ages, you can't fix it in a single meeting." 

Kyle's shoulders slump, and he takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I just don't want to see you destroy yourself."

"Kyle," You draw out "You're smart so tell me why the hell you thought that would be a good idea? Because you're no prize either." 

Kyle's expression shifts to one of deep sadness, his hands dropping to his sides. "I get that it's hard," he says softly, his eyes locking onto yours. "But running away from the no problem isn't going to solve it. You need help, and I thought that meeting could be a start."

You laugh, a harsh, bitter sound that cuts through the night air. "That was the furthest thing from help. It felt more like a fucking beartrap. You didn't even ask me how I felt about it, you didn't even bring it up again. You just dumped me there and expected me to be okay with it."

Kyle's jaw tightens, and he takes a deep breath, struggling to keep his composure. "I'm sorry if it felt like that," he says, his voice strained. "But I didn't know what else to do. I'm terrified of losing you to this. What if you get caught?"

Your heart aches at his words, but the anger still burns bright. "You don't understand," you say, your voice cracking. "I'm scared too. Scared that I'll never be able to stop. But you tricked me, you lied to me."

Kyle's face flushes with frustration, his eyes darkening. "I was desperate! Do you think it's easy for me to watch you self-destruct? To see you steal and smoke and hurt yourself over and over again?"

"Don't you dare make this about you," you snap, your hands trembling with anger. "You don't get it, Kyle." 

Kyle takes a step closer, his jaw set. "I'm trying to help you, but you keep pushing me away. You act like I'm the enemy when all I want is to see you get better. Why can't you see that?"

Your chest heaves with each ragged breath, the tears burning in your eyes. "Because it doesn't feel like help! It just doesn't, can you get that in your fucking head? Why are you trying to fix me?"

"I'm not trying to fix you. We can't fix each other but we can help and that's all I want to do," His gaze softens "Just tell me what to do," he says, his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions.

The words hang in the air between you, and for a moment, everything feels suspended in time. You don't know what to do. The intensity of it all crashes over you like a wave, and you find yourself struggling to breathe.

You open your mouth to speak, but no words come out. Instead, a sob escapes, raw and broken. The anger that had fueled you moments ago dissipates, leaving behind a profound sense of helplessness. Your shoulders shake as the sobs come harder, your vision blurring with tears. You don't have the answers Kyle is looking for; you don't even have the answers for yourself.

Kyle's face softens, his expression shifting from frustration to concern and heartbreak. "Hey, hey," he murmurs, taking a step towards you. "It's okay."

It's not okay. Nothing feels okay. You're overwhelmed by the realization that you're spiralling, and if you don't find a way to get help, it's only going to get worse. You knew it was getting bad when you couldn't even run a mile without coughing up your lungs.

As the sobs wrack your body, you feel your knees weaken. You take an unsteady step toward Kyle, and he immediately closes the distance, pulling you into his arms. The moment you feel his embrace, the dam truly breaks. You collapse into him, your fingers clutching at his shirt as if he's the only thing keeping you from drowning.

"I don't know what to do," you whisper between sobs, your voice barely audible. 

His arms tighten around you, one hand gently cradling the back of your head. "We'll figure it out," he says softly, his voice thick with emotion.

You bury your face in his chest, the sobs continuing to pour out of you, each one tearing at your heart. You feel a mix of shame and relief, the two emotions intertwining in a confusing dance. Shame because you're admitting, finally, that you need help. Relief because, at this moment, Kyle's arms around you make you feel less alone, less lost.

You made a decision in your mind, after months of back and forth with yourself "That was my last cigarette," You sniffle "Ever." It was far from your last in truth but still proved to be a pivotal moment in your life.

[deja-yu]

Night out - Choi Jongho

Genre: fluff (a lil suggestive)

2.2k

Synopsis: Spending a night out with your boyfriend and friends except I am really obsessed with Jongho and it shows.

note: I didn't proofread :D

Maybe the two of you were a little too caught up with each other, but nobody seems to mind. Head leaning on your boyfriend’s shoulder while you watch him trace something in the palm of your hand with his finger. “Elephant?” Your question softly, only for him to hear, the low rumble of his chuckle slightly shaking you along with him. “No, try again” he traces the same pattern on your palm, the sound of your friends arguing about what movie to go see after dinner, was just a background noise at this point. You had all finished your desert already, only Wooyoung and Hongjoong were still eating too busy talking to actually clear their plates. “Turtle?” second guess and Jongho giggles softly. The nope he lets out comes with a pop to tease and you huff in slight frustration. “I don’t know then” another giggle “It’s us” snorting you join him with your own giggles. “My turn” you turn over his hand and draw your own figure in his hand. “A dog?” with a copy of his ‘nope’ you let him know he is wrong causing him chuckle. You are about to repeat your drawing but Yeosang nudges you which makes you straighten up so you can look at him. Jongho intertwines your hand with his before you can fully pull away from him. “Is a horror movie okay with you two?” Yeosang asks, you see he was in the middle of buying tickets on his phone “Sounds fun!” you agree with a big smile. Yeosang hums and continues ordering, you look around the table and see everyone is done. “I am going to the toilet before we leave” You nudge Jongho who takes a moment too long to finally let go of your hand as you get up.

“Our little Jongho is smitten” Yunho teases as soon as you’re out of earshot. “Do you even know what movie we are going to?” Hongjoong asks with a laugh, Jongho raises his hands to surrender to the teasing with a roll of his eyes. “I was going to pay for dinner but…” he laughs as everyone backtracks and instead starts complimenting him. When he sees you on your way back to the table he gets up to pay. Meeting you on his way to pay he gives you a quick kiss, “Go get your stuff, I will meet you outside”.

Wooyoung hands you your coat while you grab your bag, “What did you put in his drink to make him so loving?”. Others join in one the teasing “You really got him wrapped around your finger”, “He didn’t even let me hug him the other day!”. You sigh telling them to knock it off, quickly making your way outside in hopes the cold air will hide your reddening cheeks. Jongho doesn’t take long to come outside, handing you a mint he took while paying. Your boyfriend’s loving smile makes you shove the previous teasing to the back of your mind. “You should have put on a warmer jacket” Jongho complains as he tugs at the fabric of your coat to connect the buttons. Smiling at his antics you take his busy hands to intertwine with yours instead, “Let’s go” giving him a quick peck on the lips before tugging him to follow in your friends’ steps to the cinema.

The movie wasn’t really your cup of tea, you honestly just said yes to Yeosang to avoid starting the argument about what movie to start back up. Jongho was next to you laughing at some of the scenes which made you squirm in your seat. You lean over to ask him to grab the popcorn from Yunho beside him but a loud scream makes you cringe, words dying on your tongue instead letting out a small squeal. It drowns out with the other screams but Jongho hears of course, laughing at your reaction which makes you huff. Ignoring him to instead grab the popcorn from Yunho yourself. Leaning over Jongho completely and Yunho only spares you a quick glance as you get his attention. Wordlessly handing you the popcorn so he can focus back on the movie. Jongho chuckles as you send him an annoyed look while getting comfortable in your seat again. It’s not long before the movie makes you jump in your seat again. Jongho leans in this time, “You want to leave?” automatically you look past him towards the rest of your friends but he leans slightly forward so you look at him again “I’m asking you” with a small nod you confirm you would rather leave. Jongho takes the popcorn and shoves it back into Yunho’s hands. Standing up and holding out a hand for you which you quickly take having the seat at the end makes it easy to pull him out of the row, he lets you lead him down the steps and through the thick doors into the light of the main hall. Your shoulders relax as the blood curdling screams of the latest victim finally disappear as the doors close behind you. “Let’s go to the arcade to wait?” smiling he happily agrees with your suggestion.

You died 2 rounds ago and Jongho is still going through the zombie game. The ticket amount going up by the second, Jongho determined to exchange it for the plushie you’ve been eyeing. Your eyes are not on the great display of skill on the screen, because how can your focus be there when your boyfriend looks so incredibly handsome. Quickly you pull out your phone to take a picture, smiling proudly at the picture which you quickly make your new background. Missing the way Jongho takes his eye off the screen to look over at you, smirking when he sees what you have done. The boost to his ego comes at the cost of some health. Jongho resumes shooting the zombies but you’re bored, feeling a little mischievous you let out a deep sigh, a chuckle coming from Jongho “Bored?” asking it without taking his eyes off the screen. “A little, maybe we could pass time in a different way?” Immediately he puts the toy gun back into the holder and you laugh slightly surprised as you watch his character quickly lose the last of its health. “Here?” he is asking it while cockily raising an eyebrow. The arcade was mostly empty, you saw two guys and one worker but they were nowhere near right now. You smile and give him a nod curious what he would do. Jongho steps into your space, leaning down till his lips are mere centimeters away from yours, instinctively you close your eyes. A giggle from him makes you open your eyes, his forehead meets yours and you can’t stop a smile from forming. “Let’s go play air hockey, before I do something we’ll regret” now it’s your turn to giggle “Can’t control yourself baby?”. Jongho pulls away holding his hand out which you gladly take, “You know I can never control myself when it’s you. So, let’s go before I take you back to the car”, with a giggle you let him drag you along.

After two rounds of air hockey you are joined by the rest of the guys, Yunho excitingly telling Jongho how the rest of the movie proceeded. You cringe away at the details, going to the crane machines where you find Seonghwa, “What are you trying to get?” he points at a little toothless keychain making you giggle. “You want to try?” you nod as Seonghwa steps to the side to let you have a go.  Both of you getting excited when you manage to get a hold of the keychain but it changes as the plush falls a little away from the drop box. “You got it a lot closer than I did, try again” Seonghwa excitedly urges you on, already swiping his game card for you. This time you get a good hold of the plush and it carries all the way to the drop box. Both you and Seonghwa cheer excitingly exchanging a high five before you retrieve the plush. “Your highness” Seonghwa laughs at your words as you bow while presenting the keychain for him. “Thank you” he says it with a cute which makes you grin. “Seonghwa! Y/N! You guys ready to leave?” San calls from the entrance of the arcade, waiting with the rest of the group. Jongho eyes you as you come to his side, “I won Hwa a keychain!” Seonghwa shows your boyfriend his prize. “Where were these skills when we trying to get that plushie you wanted so badly at the fair?” laughing you remind him how he kept going after you already gave up determined as he was to get you what you wanted. Before you can walk towards the car with the rest Jongho tugs at your sleeve, “I won you something too” presenting you with a small bear keychain “Could’ve gotten the big one if you didn’t distract me” trying to play of his present to you by acting casual but it only makes your grin widen. “Now I get to have you with me at all times” you tease as you clip the bear to your bag, looking back up in time to see the smirk playing on his features.

Jongho is one of the designated drivers which means you get passenger seat privileges, so when Wooyoung takes your reserved seat Jongho glares at him. “I’m not moving” Wooyoung says with a huff, “I will get car sick” Jongho gives him a light shove “I don’t care. It’s my car” you ignore the commotion and slide in and Yunho follows you. Your boyfriend turns to the back to see you squeezed in tight between eyes questioning you, asking if it’s okay without saying the words. “Just drive! I want to go home” reluctantly he turns back and starts the car giving Wooyoung one more jab when he gets a little too happy about succeeding in securing his spot.

The drive to their shared house was peaceful, San and Yunho seem to exchange a mischievous look and Wooyoung is seemingly in on it too, distracting your boyfriend so Yunho can whisper their plan into your ears. You giggle and agree, seeing your own profit in their plan to tease your boyfriend. When Jongho parks the car for them to get out, they set their plan in motion. Jongho turns to the back, ready to tell them to get the hell out. “Thank you for hanging out with us Y/N” “Yes, you should totally come over without Jongho next time” two kisses, one on each of your cheeks cause the words Jongho was about to say to die on his tongue. You watch as your boyfriend’s face falters for a moment while car doors open and slam shut, a moment passes before Wooyoung bursts out laughing, Jongho turns to him with a glare, which is enough reason for him to get out the car. Once alone with your boyfriend he turns back to you still glaring, only causing you to laugh. “I’m not stopping for ice cream now” gasping you whisper “you wouldn’t” but he just shrugs starting the car again. Still in the back seat so you wiggle your way between the front seats to take your rightful place in the front. He is giving you a look which makes you whine again, “Why not?? We always get ice cream on the way home” you lean in a little closer hand on his thigh trying to give him your best puppy eyes. Seemingly unphased he starts driving “Get your seatbelt on baby” Pulling back with a huff, you do as told before crossing your arms. Not even a minute of silence passes before an idea sparks in your head pulling out your phone, you can feel his eyes on you. “What are you doing?” showing your phone dialing Yeosang you stick your tongue out at him, “Asking Yeo to get ice cream with me”. The line connects and you turn away about to greet Yeosang but Jongho cuts you off “I’ll get you your ice cream if you hang up right now” with a pause you consider it  “Oh Sorry!” hanging up Jongho laughs at the grin on your lips. “Happy?” his hand landing on your thigh with a squeeze, nodding proudly he laughs again.

-

“After all that trouble and you’re letting your ice cream melt” Jongho teases as he pulls away from your lips. “Shut up” pulling him back to connect your lips once more. The backseat of the car is way too small to comfortably be making out but neither of you seem to care. Half way through your ice cream your boyfriend shoved you up against the car to taste the ice cream for himself. “Let’s go home Jjong” you breathe out, his lips meet yours one last time a groan leaving him as he pulls himself off you. Head hitting the roof of the car as he straightens up you snort still laying on the seats, freezing up when your boyfriend glares at you. “Sorry” it comes out as a whisper and one of his eyebrows quirk up, “You will be”.