#I can't stop drawing this big talking dog...

[goat-paradox]

Oh, it's Max! I mean Sam!

[seventeenpins]

nightly

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader word count: 1k summary: Joel is a mistake you just keep making. content/warnings: no specified Joel era so take your pick, dirty talk, literally all just smut, big dick, daddy kink, breeding kink, dubcon undertones, Joel is an asshole a/n: I have been struggling to focus on writing for a minute now, but the horny gods smiled upon me and let me get this together. Praise be to @ozarkthedog for always letting me run my godforsaken ideas past you. Love you lots 💕

You can feel the wet spot on the bed against your back. Joel has you folded like a pretzel, backs of your knees resting on his sun-freckled shoulders, wrists pinned above your head and ass suspended in the air as he drills into you. A single curl bounces at his temple, separate from the rest of his hair that's plastered with sweat to his forehead.

If you make the same mistake five days in a row, can you really still call it a mistake?

He's far too old for you, and a little too mean for you, but damned if he isn't the best lay you've ever had.

Eight inches, uncut, a dick so fucking fat you can barely wrap your hand around it. You can hardly believe he's buried balls deep in you right now. That your body can even take it.

"C'mon, honey, that's it-" Joel's voice is a growl, punctuated by heavy panting, "This pretty lil gash is fuckin' droolin' baby, my own personal slip 'n slide-"

"You're a crass old man," you whine.

"I sure am, honey," he agrees with a grin, "But don't think I can't feel the way you soak me whenever I talk crass, sweetheart."

"I hate you."

He laughs, and a bead of sweat rolls down his temple and along the curve of his nose, splashing onto your cheek. Unthinkingly, you dart your tongue out to catch some of the sweat. Joel's grin turns to a smirk.

"Hate me all you like. You're the one who's come over every night this fuckin' week. Monday through Friday, baby. Hate me so much you can't get enough of daddy's big dick, huh?"

"Fuck you, you're such an asshole-"

This jab is even less effective, punctuated with a moan and a whimper.

"Sure, sweetheart, I am. But don't pretend like we don't both know--you don't have to come here at all."

He grinds against you, coarse hair rubbing against your mound as if to further his point. Pressure hits your clit just right and it's bliss. You have to fully restrain yourself to stop from howling, and even then, you let out a ragged moan.

Joel clamps a hand over your mouth and looks you dead in the eyes.

"I love those pretty sounds, baby, but remember I got neighbors? Thought you said you'd die before anyone finds out about us."

You try to roll your eyes, but he thrusts again and you're caught in another moan. The glide of his body against your clit, especially when he's stretching you out so exquisitely? It's overwhelming. You try to stay quiet, you really do.

It's not your fault though, not when Joel's fucking you silly.

Now, though, he's frustrated.

"Quiet now, settle-"

"I'm not a fucking dog, Joel, I- ahhh-" you mumble and moan between his fingers, barely muffled at all.

"Oh really? Not a fucking dog? Wanna tell me then why you're tryna get bred like a bitch in heat?"

He smacks your cheek, drawing out another pathetic whine that only seems to cement his point.

He sneers. "Those pretty lil noises you're makin' for me? That don't sound like a good girl. That sounds to me like a nasty fuckin' slut who can't help but keep her legs spread so her daddy can fill her up good. Huh? C'mon baby. Tell me to cum inside."

"Fuck you Joel."

Suddenly, cruelly, he stops. Ceases any movement. Relaxes the grip on your wrists.

Panic overtakes you.

"What the fuck-?"

"Sorry sweetheart," he shakes his head, "You don't want this? You can see yourself out."

"No, I-"

You notice he's still sheathed inside you. You feel him do something, flexing his dick inside of you. Frankly, it's cheating.

"Please don't stop."

"What was that, honey?"

"Joooeeel-"

"Quit your whinin', use your words."

"Please fuck me."

"That ain't it, you know whatcha gotta say."

He starts rocking his hips gently, a slippery glide. It's not enough to stimulate. Just enough to make you want more. Need more.

The way you clench around him tells on yourself more starkly than your words ever could.

He's grinning again. "That's it, baby. You ready to admit what you need?"

"Come on, Joel."

"Cum where?"

You sigh. But you know you aren't gonna hold out any longer. He's pressing his thumb just above your clit and the glide of the motion is so fucking delicious it's hard not to buck against it.

Rut against it.

A bitch in heat.

"Fuck me, daddy-" you whine.

"You sound real pretty beggin'. Nearly got it honey. One more try?"

"Cum inside me."

"Mmmmm-" Joel groans, and the grip on your wrists tightens again. "Music to my ears, honey. Tell me where you want it?"

"Inside me, cum inside-"

"You want me to cum inside this lovely lil' pussy?"

"Please Joel-"

"That right?"

"Please cum in me, fill me up, fuck it deep-"

With that, his composure breaks and any restraint he had crumbles. Folds you deeper, fucks you deeper, pins you down and jackhammers into you.

You couldn't move, even if you wanted to, and that knowledge somehow heightens everything. It's blindingly bright, dizzyingly addictive. You barely notice the way Joel's lavishing you with praise, each deep thrust punctuated with good girl, good girl, good fucking girl-

When you cum, you feel the way his balls tighten as if in response, tipping over the edge mere moments after you. It could be romantic, finding yourselves cumming together, if there was any romance between you.

As you start to fade back down, you're able to pay attention again.

"That's it," he's praising you, and you realise his cock is still pulsing. You make to start moving, but he growls and holds you still. "That's right, sweetheart. Gotta let me fill you all the way up. Gonna make sure it takes."

Clarity starts to overtake you and you know that you've made a big fucking mistake. By the time you've come back to yourself, though, your pussy's flooded and pulsing oh so nicely, and Joel's pulling out of you. He moves into the other room and you hear him turn on the shower.

"You can let yourself out," he calls to you. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Your panties are sticky the whole way home.

[3rachasdomesticbanana]

So Blue | Han Jisung

•Synopsis: Who can you turn to in a dire situation if not your best friend? That's what Jisung thought when he texted you. Heart racing with fear that your best friend was hurt, you rush to his side. What you find however will change everything...

•Pairings: non idol Jisung x Female Reader

•Content Includes: smut, friends to lovers, strong language, mention of sexual enhancement drug, light anxiety, creampie, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, cum eating

an: photos of Han used in title graphic have been edited for entertainment purposes by me and are not real. no harm is intended in the edited pictures. also please do not take any enhancement meds without talking to a doctor for your own safety. i don't condone the behavior that's written.

Want more smut? Follow the banana 🍌

The house is quiet, way too quiet when you step inside. Knowing Chan, Changbin, and Jisung for years, you know it's never this quiet when they're around and it's unsettling... Shutting the door behind you and glancing around, you see nothing out of the ordinary. So far everything looks exactly the way you left it last night after the four of you hung out. Just as you're about to walk into the kitchen, you hear Jisung start calling your name from his bedroom. Your heart races with panic and you rush towards his room, dropping your bag on the floor along the way. All kinds of awful scenarios play in your mind and when you burst into his room you half expect to find him bloody or with a broken bone, not sitting on the edge of his bed in a white sleeveless shirt and black shorts, with his legs spread sporting a massive hard-on.

"Wait, why me?" you blurt out, when Jisung explains that he needs your help. Your cheeks heat up as you steal a quick glance at the unmistakable bulge in his shorts. There's a mix of embarrassment and unexpected arousal that floods through you, leaving you flustered.

You're shocked, jaw practically hitting the floor. Who knew he was so… big? After all these years of friendship, you never thought of him in any other way except as your weird and talented friend. But now, seeing him in this state… It's making you feel things you'd rather deny and your stomach is flipping like crazy. Every now and then you notice that his cock twitches underneath his shorts as if it's alive, pulsating and drawing your eyes down to it again despite how hard you try not to stare. Kind of hard when something that size is practically waving “Hello” at you.

"I- I can't tell the guys this. They'd clown me for life," Jisung stammers, fidgeting as he looks at you from across his messy room. Plastic water bottles scattered, tissues crumpled on the floor—yeah, it's pretty clear what he's been up to before you got here.

"Well, what do you expect me to do, Han Jisung?" you retort, emphasizing his full name for dramatic effect.

"I don't know," he mumbles, shrugging his shoulders. "It's been hours. I can't even leave my room. It hurts, y/n."

When he grabs at the stiffness beneath his cotton shorts and lets out a low groan, you stop breathing. Why does this have to turn me on? He's my best friend! You mentally scold yourself, tearing your gaze away. Shit, it's hot in here. Your body feels too hot all over. It's like standing too close to a blazing fire, the heat making you squirm uncomfortably.

"Ji... we need to get you to the hospital," you say, avoiding his gaze. "You've seen those commercials."

"Please, no! I can't let anyone see me. Did you forget, your bestie Annie, who also happens to be Chan's girl, works there. If she sees me, it's game over. She'll tell him." Jisung pleads, hands clasped together, desperation evident in his wide brown eyes. Those puppy dog eyes of his always get to you.

"Dude, what were you even thinking, taking Love?" you groan, plopping down on the cozy carpet with a heavy thud, completely confused by your friend's decision to take an enhancement pill.

You remember seeing those late-night infomercials a couple of years back, pushing that blue heart-shaped pill. They call it 'Love' because of the 'L0-V3' stamped on it. Basically it's like Viagra, but it's mixed with a very low dose of THC. They advertise that it does more than just keep things up. 'Guaranteed to give you the ultimate pleasure,' they say.

Jisung shrugs, watching you with a miserable expression. “I was curious if it would make masturbating feel different, better maybe? I mean it did the first 6 times. Wah! The orgasms were fucking mind blowing y/n.” He smiles and chuckles.

"Ji, oh my god! Ugh, have mercy on my ears bro." Both of you burst into laughter, but then you notice Ji wincing in pain. Your mood quickly shifts from playful to genuine concern.

"It hurts that much?" you ask, feeling awful that he's so uncomfortable.

He nods weakly, “It's not even just my dick but my balls feel so fuckin’ heavy. Like they're literally going to rip from my body.”

You cringe inwardly, fingers pressing into your ears as he launches into yet another one of his oversharing moments. His lack of filter has always been a trademark of his, but that's just Jisung being Jisung. After being friends since grade five, it's like he's incapable of holding back anything with you. You remember the day he lost his virginity, he texted you literally right after. His excitement was evident even through the phone. As a joke you got him a cake in the shape of the letter ‘V’. That was in highschool and his habit of sharing way too much is still going strong in your twenties. Only difference is this time his oversharing is doing things to you.

The dampness between your thighs, well, that's just gotta be a coincidence, right? I mean, it's not like the sight of your long time buddy sporting a hard-on is doing anything for you. It's more than likely just the frustration of being on a three-year dry spell. Yeah, that's gotta be it. It's definitely because you haven't been fucked in a long time and not Jisung himself. You give your head a shake, dropping your hands from your ears with a wry smirk.

"Ji, we've really gotta do something… before it gets worse. You don't want it to fall off." You tell him jokingly, trying to keep the mood light but you're feeling worried all over again.

"Yeah, yeah I know. You're right, but what are we supposed to do? I've tried everything, even beatin' it 11 times, and still no luck.” He says, sounding so casual about his masturbatory activities.

You let out an embarrassed groan and fall back dramatically onto the floor, while Jisung lets out a pitiful whine. You grab your phone and start searching for home remedies but after an hour of scrolling, you're still at square one. Not a single remedy seems feasible. Leeches? Nah, no way. As if either of you would go near those slimy things. And some tea from a self-proclaimed witch sounds sketchy as hell. Plus, she's halfway across the globe. It would take forever to get here, if it even would. Jisung hasn't had any luck either. Every twenty minutes You hear him curse under his breath and run his hands through his hair. You two are running out of options, and as time passes, you start to feel more and more useless.

"Y/n," Jisung whispers your name after another forty minutes of searching, his voice hesitant.

You look up at him, doe eyed and innocently chewing your lip. “Hm? What's up, Hannie? Did you find something?” With a strained grunt he nods in response looking at you intensely.

“Fuck, shit.” He mutters under his breath, almost like he's talking to himself. “My dick... It won't go down without…”

“Ji what is it? You're freaking me out. Without what?” You scramble up onto your knees and crawl over to the bed, inching closer to him, eyes full of concern.

Jisung looks like he's in absolute agony watching you crawl over to him. His emotions are all over the place, you can practically feel the tension radiating off of him when you reach the bed. His eyes are like flames, burning far too hot when he looks at you. You can see the struggle written all over his face like he's fighting with himself.

“Y/n, you're making it harder,” Jisung breathes out, his voice husky and balling his hands into fists as he tries to keep his composure.

You sit beside him scrunching up your face and like the good friend that you are, you place a comforting hand on his knee. Jisung's breath catches in his throat and a flush creeps up his neck when you touch him making him suddenly feel lightheaded.

"What do you mean 'making it harder'? I'm here trying to help you, remember?” You say, your voice soft and tinged with hurt. The pain in your voice and eyes catches him off guard. He's stammering, suddenly aware of how his words might've come out wrong.

He didn't mean for it to sound bad. You're the last person he'd ever want to hurt. But today, everything you do just seems to set him off. He's been trying so damn hard to push his feelings aside. But it's like having you in his room, despite you being here a million times before, it's messing with his head. He can't think straight. You've always been stunning to him, and yeah, maybe he's entertained some inappropriate thoughts about you in the past, but that was only once. Maybe it's the pill messing with his head but you’re making it impossible for him to focus on anything but you.

“N- no I mean, I’m grateful you're here, really love. You're the only one who can help me. I just mean… you're making it harder. Ya know?” He stammers, licking his lips nervously. He nods down once looking down at his lap before back at you and bites his lip feeling embarrassed. Your eyes flick down to his shorts and go wide when you understand.

"What? How?!" You glance down at your outfit. His black hoodie with the paint splatters that you borrowed a few days ago, paired with simple black leggings. Nothing revealing, yet you're somehow making his cock even harder than it already was.

"You're over there moaning and then you start crawling towards me on all fours. I mean, come on, how could anyone not get turned on by that? Shit!" He chuckles nervously, feeling his heart racing. He hides his face in his hands, laughing, and murmurs something when you giggle.

"You're such a perv, Ji." You tease, still chuckling as you playfully pry his hands away from his face. "Now try that again. I'm not fluent in mumbles, sorry.”

“I said… I just read that it won't go down without intercourse. Bro, I don't exactly have a girlfriend. I'm so fucked.” He sighs, sounding completely defeated.

Your smile falters when you see just how miserable he looks. It's been a while since he was last in a relationship, that was true. Probably a little longer than you, about four years now. His last one ended when she demanded he choose between you and her. She couldn't stand the fact that you would spend the night in the spare bedroom where Jisung, Chan, and Changbin recorded their music, dreaming of making it big someday. Jisung ended things with her on the spot; he wouldn't be with someone who couldn't accept his friends. Apparently she had issues with Minho too, which was probably what really did it for him. But somehow, you can't shake off the feeling that their breakup was somehow your fault, that his single status is on your shoulders.

“I'm sorry Hannie. We'll um, we can figure something out.” You reassure him, innocently rubbing his knee.

Without thinking much, your fingers gently glide over his skin comfortingly, feeling the tenseness in his muscles. He's so stressed. It breaks your heart seeing him like this. You don't know what to do right now other than offer him comfort. There are no answers or solutions that you can think of to give him. All you can do is show him that you're in it together as always. You start rambling on about how you two are both probably freaking out for no reason and that everything will be fine soon. But as your fingers continue to move in innocent slow circles, Jisung starts shifting. It goes unnoticeable by you so you keep talking. It's all nonsense really, delving into something completely random and off topic in an attempt to distract him from the issue at hand, only Jisung isn't processing a single word you've said. He's far too focused on your hand.

The moment your hand landed on his knee he prayed you wouldn't move it, he prayed you would. He tried so hard to focus on anything other than the heat and softness of your hand on his bare skin. It's too much though and his mind starts to quickly wander. He freezes and tries to focus on your voice but it's impossible. Jisung can't stop the thoughts that his mind creates or the images that begin to come into focus. He's imagining your hand sliding up his thigh until it's slipping under his shorts. He can almost feel it happening, his sudden daydream becoming so vivid. In his mind's eye he can see you take him into your hands, feel you stroking him until he's a mess and spilling all over your fingers. He's fighting his demons and you're oblivious to it all. You just continue to talk all while the sensation of your hand is driving him up the wall. He can feel the sudden familiar tightening in his balls and he panics. He can't get control of his body, not with the drug still in his system.

His hand quickly comes down covering yours, stopping the gentle caress to his knee. His intense brown eyes look darker when they stare into yours. His lips slightly part and his breath starts coming out in uneven quiet bursts. The warmth of his hand seems to grow hotter, becoming slightly sweaty against yours and your heart starts pounding in your chest. You feel the subtle shift in his body beneath your touch and his legs tense up as he lets out a soft, involuntary grunt. Jisung's gaze burns into yours with an undeniable intensity that makes air feel thick and your cunt slick.

Is he about to?

You glance down at his shorts and his cock pulsates underneath. You stop breathing when realization hits you. He’s going to cum, right here, right now, all while holding your hand and looking at you. He's leaking so much precum it's noticeable even in the black fabric. A wicked scene flashes through your mind, of you sinking to your knees to taste him, taking his fully clothed cock into your mouth.

"Ah, shit! Mm!" Jisung's moans slip out and his breathing escalates as he starts to tremble all over. "Y/n," he pants out. Your name rolling off his tongue, making your whole body flush as his orgasm quickly builds, like you're the cause of it. "I... oh, shit. I'm... sorry, fuck. I can't... Help it. I'm cumming. Oh, fuck, oh, fuck!”

His grip on your hand tightens and he takes a deep breath before letting out a long low moan. You're left speechless, eyes fixed on Jisung's face as he cums in his pants. His hips move instinctively upwards, as if he's fucking some unseen entity and you can't help but find it incredibly hot. It's possibly the sexiest thing you've ever witnessed and now you're more turned on than you were to before.

His orgasm hits him hard, and you can feel his muscles tighten when he lets go. Warmth spreads through your body and it's impossible not to miss the way his release seeps through his dark shorts. The fabric quickly becomes wetter as his seed flows out in thick, white strings. His cock, still concealed and hard beneath the dampness, slows its wild twitching and stills.

“God, I'm sorry y/n. I don't know what came over me. Your hand... It felt incredible and it just happened. It was like the pill ramped up the feeling.” He apologizes, letting go of your hand. His heavy breathing slows and cheeks flush with a mixture of arousal and shame.

“It's ok Ji, I understand. You don't have to apologize. I wasn't thinking. I'll uh, get you a change of shorts.” You start to get up and head towards his dresser but he catches your wrist. He looks up at you with those brown sugar boba eyes of his making you shift.

“Tell me what you're thinking, y/n. Please? I'm going crazy thinking I'm weirding you out. Be honest with me please, lovely. Please?” He pleads with you.

You sigh and sit back down beside him and almost moan when the seam of your leggings rub against you. Seeing Jisung cum right in front of you, has your body feeling ultra sensitive. You're so on edge as if you've taken an enhancement pill yourself.

"I'm not weirded out, trust me," You confess, your voice low and filled with something more that you try to hide from him and yourself.

"Then how do you feel? You've gone quiet on me." Jisung probes, daring you to reveal your feelings.

“I feel fine Ji.” You say and look at his closet door. It's wide open and his clothes are all over the place inside like a tornado went through it.

“Bullshit y/n. I can tell when you're lying. You never look at me when you lie.”

Sighing you look him in the eyes and your mouth suddenly goes dry. He's not going to let this go until you fess up to him. He'll drill you with questions until you crack and that will probably make things more awkward than it already is. You don't really have a choice but to be transparent with him like you normally are.

“I'm,” You start, only for your words to trail off into a mumble.

“What was it you said earlier y/n? I'm not fluent in mumble?" He smirks, feeling so damn proud of himself and you roll your eyes.

“Ugh, fine. Fine, okay. I'm… horny. There, satisfied?” You admit red in the face. You look away fiddling with the sleeve of Jisung's hoodie.

"What else?" His voice, steady and resolute.

Your head spins back to him, caught off guard. "What else?" you echo loudly in shock. "Isn't all that enough?" He shakes his head, a smirk playing on his lips, as if he knows something you don't.

"Nah, not when I can feel you holding back," Jisung teases, leaning closer. "We're always so open with each other, but right now, there's something you're not saying."

“I…” You let out a defeated and frustrated sigh. “You turned me on.” You whisper. “The sight of you cumming. The look on your face, that fucking moan, Jisung. The way your cock bobbed from inside your shorts when you… damn it. It fucking made me wet. I've been wet since I walked in here!” You're practically yelling now, breathing heavily after releasing all your pent up feelings and he just smiles and chuckles.

“That wasn't so hard was it?

“Yes,” You say with a huff. “Yes, that actually was pretty damn hard.” You go to cover your face but he stops you.

“Don't be embarrassed, sweetie. I think that's a normal reaction. Sorta like watching porn.” He replies, chuckling.

“I suppose… but it doesn't really help your situation though.” You say feeling mortified.

The room goes quiet for a minute, the pair of you at a loss for words until Jisung breaks the silence.

“Maybe it can?”

You give him a look, raising an eyebrow in his direction. His cheeks flush and he raises his hands in a surrender gesture, palms facing outward, “Hear me out. It doesn't have to be weird. We'd just be helping each other out. You wouldn't be horny anymore and I wouldn't be hard and in pain. You're my only hope.”

“Are you suggesting that you and I… fuck?” You ask gesturing between you both. He groans in half pain, half pleasure at your words and your face heats again matching the blush on his cheeks.

“Please? Please let me fuck you y/n. Shit I know we're friends, it won't mean anything. You'd be literally saving my life. It's torture being like this. Every twitch, every movement I make… it fucking hurts like hell.” He begs, sounding desperate.

Jisung's question hangs in the air and you find yourself unable to respond. Silence ticks on for only a few seconds but to Jisung it feels like an hour. He runs his hands through his hair in frustration and huffs.

"Fine, then," he grumbles, breaking the silence again. "Can you at least help me get into your car so we can go to the hospital then?" His voice is rough, but there's an underlying vulnerability to it.

Still you stay quiet, his pleas echoing loudly in your mind. He's begging for your help and you can't speak. You're torn between wanting to be there for him and the fear of the aftermath. It's never a good idea to sleep with a friend. God, how many times have there been movies portraying that, only for it to go wrong? Too many, that's the answer. You're already feeling things that you wish you weren't. This could ruin your friendship with Jisung. This isn't just a peck on the lips. You'll be far closer and far more intimate than you two have ever been. So your hesitation is valid but Jisung is losing his mind and panicking more than you are right now.

“What the fuck y/n? Are you really ignoring me right now? Look, I'm sorry I asked. Just forget it and hel-”

"Promise me," You cut him off, "Promise me that we'll pretend like it never happened."

"Absolutely, yes. I promise!" he agrees eagerly, his face lighting up as he reaches for the drawer in his bedside dresser.

Curious, you watch as he rummages through the drawer's content. "What are you up to now?" you ask, sounding amused despite the fact that the little voice in your head is screaming at you.

"Looking for a condom," he replies, a mischievous glint in his eyes when he looks over at you.

You chuckle, shaking your head. "Dude, even if you find one, it's probably expired or dried up. When was the last time you got some ass?"

"Oh yeah right, good point—wait! It hasn't been that long!" He whines.

Laughing, you playfully cover your mouth. "Uh huh, sure. Besides, you gave your last one to Chan a while ago, remember?"

“Shit, you're right. Now what?” He pouts looking disappointed.

“Just raw I guess. Don't really have a choice. We both know we're clean and I'm on the pill.” You shrug nonchalantly like the idea is whatever to you but your heart is beating a thousand beats per second and you're internally freaking out.

Jisung swallows hard, looking nervous in your direction. “You uh, you sure?”

“Yeah let's just do it before Bin and Chan get back. Shit would be really awkward if they caught us.” Your voice betrays your false confidence, shaking as nerves wrack your body.

“Yeah, good point” He replies with a nod, suddenly looking serious.

This is serious to him. This isn't exactly how he envisioned his weekend starting. Jisung's heart pounds hard, his palms sweating as he stares at you. Amidst the anxiety he's feeling about this, he's oddly happy. He feels lucky knowing you’re here willing to cross boundaries for him. Not everyone would do something like this for a friend, but you're different. You always have his back no matter what crazy mess Jisung finds himself in.

Despite the fucked-upness of it all, Jisung can't deny the excited flutter in his stomach. The thought of having sex with a friend is enough to give anyone major anxiety but he's surprised how well you both are dealing with it. Still, fear sits at the back of his mind. What if this changes everything? What if it ruins your friendship? This is a big deal. He's seen it play out in movies and dramas all the time and not once had it turned out well. He doesn't have a lot of options though. You're quite literally his only hope like he told you.

Jisung gets up carefully, giving you full access to his bed and watches you as you strip down to nothing. Embarrassment fills you as his mouth hangs open, in complete fascination and awe. He thinks you're unstoppable, the way you're confidently undressing like that. He doesn't know you want to crawl into a hole and disappear. His eyes find your breast and he mentally marvels over how hard your nipples are. He suddenly wants nothing more than to slip the peaks into his mouth and bite down on them until they're red and you're squirming under him. Your cunt calls to him like a siren, just as pretty and just as wet. His fingers itch to trace the contours of your body, to feel your skin beneath his touch. Every inch of you seems to call out to him.

Jisung shifts uncomfortably, clearing his throat as he glances towards the door. "Um, so about the lights... Do you have a preference?”

"You decide, Ji.” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper, leaning back into his sheets on your forearms.

With a nod, he walks over to the door and locks it before reaching to switch off the light, enveloping the room in darkness. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust. The sun had long since disappeared, hours slipping away unnoticed in trying to find a way to help your friend. A second later, the white walls covered in music memorabilia and anime posters, glow crimson from the light of the LED Akatsuki cloud lamp you gifted him for Christmas.

“There we go.” He says lightly, his voice barely audible over the sound of your heart.

Jisung's trying his best to put you at ease, and you're grateful for it, even if it's not working. You're lying there, heart pounding like a drum, with the soft red glow of his bedroom casting shadows all around. Your breath hitches, nerves tingling as you steal a glance at him by the bedside. Your fingers toy with the sheets' edge and butterflies dance wildly in your stomach. This is risky, but you're only doing it to help him out, right? Nothing more. Yet, there's something brewing beneath the surface, something you're both feeling but haven't quite put into words or even thoughts. Not right now at least.

Jisung casually strips off his tank and tosses it onto his computer chair, standing over you. Even though you've seen him shirtless a million times, it feels different this time. Probably because the setting is more intimate. You can't help but admire the way his muscles are defined, how they seem to mold perfectly to his body. Every contour, every line, down to his slender waist, captivates you. Then, as he lowers his shorts, you find yourself holding your breath, unable to look away. He's got to be a good seven inches you think. Slightly curving upwards, angry and red with the veins ridiculously prominent. You don't even stop yourself from fantasizing about how he'd feel on your tongue. The temptation to reach out and touch him is almost overwhelming, but you hold back, afraid of what it might mean.

“Do you think you can take all of me y/n?” He asks curiously and you look up at him.

His features soften in the dim light. He looks so vulnerable, so unlike the confident guy you're used to seeing. It tugs at your heart, stirring up a mix of emotions you can't quite begin to untangle.

His question, It's not a cocky one. In fact he sounds a little bit self conscious, worried even. Like he's afraid of hurting you or causing you discomfort. As much as you try to not think of him as your best friend right now as a means of psyching yourself out, you can't. He's your sweet Hannie, he's the talented genius J.One, a rap name he created when he was 16. He's your Sungie, who sat with you when you were the new kid in middle school. He needs you… needs your help. What kind of friend would turn away from a friend in need?

"I can handle it, don't worry about me, Ji. Let's just get you back to normal, okay?" You reach out your hand towards him with a subtle tremble exposing your nervousness.

"Yeah, okay, lovely. Just... let me know if you want to stop, okay? Promise?” Jisung exhales, his breath jittery with nerves waiting for your response.

“I promise. Now just relax and fuck me.” You whisper.

“Fuck. Yeah, okay.”

He moves closer to you, placing his hand in yours, and you feel a jolt of electricity shoot through you. The worries and hesitations you had vanish, replaced by a strong need to take care of this for him, to ease his pain. You feel the heat emanating from his body as he positions himself between your legs, gazing down at you with wide eyes.

He chews on his bottom lip and wraps his hand around the base of his cock with a hiss. He's still sensitive from the pain and his recent orgasm but he lines himself up with the entrance to your core, noticing how your arousal glistens in the red lights.

“Do you normally get this wet y/n?” He asks, sounding genuinely curious tilting his head to one side.

You hide your face with your hands, inhaling deeply. It's like you're a virgin all over again and this is your first time. You're nervous out of your mind and he's asking you a question like that. He's just curious, sure, but... he's Jisung... Your pulse pounds in your ears, and you slowly lower your hands. His eyes meet yours, and you can see everything you're feeling reflected in them.

You swallow hard, “Honestly, no. I've never been this wet, Jisung. Not even for myself.” You tell him, keeping eye contact so he knows you aren't lying.

“Fuck, that's hot.” He whispers. His cock twitches and rubs along your folds. “Ah, shit.” He winces and moans at the contact, feeling his cock stiffen even more beyond his belief.

Your body jerks at the unexpected touch, causing you to inhale sharply. His fingers lightly graze the curve of your waist, as if he's afraid you might vanish at any moment. His eyes, intense and penetrating, hold yours captive and heat pools low in your belly. Jisung's touch sends a shiver all over your body when his fingertips slowly begin tracing delicate patterns on your skin. Suddenly it's hard to deny just how bad you want him.

“Han Jisung if you don't stop stalling and just fuck me, I'm getting dressed and calling Chan.” Your breath comes out in short, shallow gasps. That brush against you was too much and not enough. You want him. God, you want him so bad it's almost painful.

“Okay, okay sorry. I'm just nervous. Fuck, I feel like a virgin all over again.” He says voicing your earlier thoughts out loud, making you both laugh loudly.

It feels almost normal. Like you're not about to let sleep with your long time friend. Like he's just above you now because you were wrestling for the remote. But after the laughter subsides, Jisung gathers up his courage and pushes the tip of his cock inside you without any restrictions. You're so wet that he slides right in. You both let out a moan, the sound echoing off the walls of his room, enveloping you in an intimate bubble. In the dim light, the boundary between friendship and something more blurs, and you find yourself swept away by the growing need. Jisung can feel his heart beating harder in his chest as he loses himself to the sweet feeling of you around the tip of him. A growing need intensifies within him with every passing second. He's got just the head in and he wants to slam into and cum right now.

"More. Keep going," you whisper, your voice quiet and dripping with lust. He bites down hard and complies slightly hesitating. Slowly he pushes further inside of you.

Your fingers tremble as they brush against his arms as he steadily inch by inch presses forward getting deeper, drawing moans out of you that could be heard from Pluto. It takes all of Jisung's focus to slide his entire length into you. He didn't want to cum just from sticking the tip in. But with each thrust into your eager pussy, brings him closer to bursting inside you.

"Fuck.” He breathes out as he fully sinks into you, his hand laying over your stomach gently. With a soft sigh, he leans in, resting his other hand beside your head. You feel incredible and he's reminded of the only moment he fantasized about you. A distant memory flooding back, something he tried to push away ages ago.

You tagged along with him, Chan, and Binnie for a vacation to the beach one scorching summer. He couldn't help but notice the way you looked in that red bikini with the guitar pick pattern. The way it barely covered your tits and ass. The sight made him feel insane. He was thinking things about you that he hadn't ever before. He used the fact that he couldn't swim just to sit in the sand, secretly enjoying the sight of you splashing around in the water. Every splash, every droplet clinging to your skin, it was like a fantasy playing out before his eyes. He imagined plowing into you from behind in the shower, your breast pressed against the shower tiles as you took all of him. Every detail was vivid and intense in his mind. That night, while you peacefully slept beside him in the hotel room you shared, he couldn't shake the images from his mind. Unable to sleep due to the ache in his cock, he pumped himself into his fist while thoughts of you consumed his mind. Guilt filled him but he pushed it aside, chalking it up to normal hormonal desires. It had been years since he even had those thoughts, until now.

Now he's buried deep inside you, all because of a dumb decision to try those enhancement pills. All because he wanted a mind-blowing, toe curling, orgasm. But deep down, he's kinda grateful for messing up. With you beneath him, he can fuck you instead of his hand. It's been too long since he's fucked anyone. He wants to savor this moment, take his time feeling your walls flutter around him since this won't happen again. As the urge to cum fades, he eases out of you, leaving just the head of his cock inside and begins moving again, slowly, teasingly, watching your reaction with his mouth slightly agape. Slowly, he rocks in and out, feeling your tightness gripping him in a way he's never experienced before. It’s better than anything he's felt with his exes. He's in awe of how amazing you make him feel. With a forceful thrust, he drives himself deeper into you, pausing when you cry out in pleasure.

"Damn it, y/n, you feel amazing. Fuck, so good.” he murmured, his voice a low, husky whisper. “Can I... Can I go faster? Please, tell me I can fuck you faster, baby. Let me make you feel even better." He begs, grunting softly and shifting his hips in a slow, teasing rhythm, forcing a needy whimper from you.

You bite your lip, a rush of pleasure flooding your body as you nod in response, too overwhelmed to speak. Your breath hitches, coming in rapid gasps, and your legs tremble around him.

“Thank you, fuck.” He withdraws with a sharp pull, then eases back in hard, making you cry out. “Stop me if I'm too rough, baby. You gotta tell me sweetie. Can you do that?”

You nod, but that's not quite what he wants. Jisung wants to hear you, no, needs to hear you. His hand moves, brushing against your skin until he finds your nipple, teasingly taking it between his fingers. Your breath catches as he pinches it gently and rolls it slowly between his thumb and index finger. He feels your body react, your walls tightening around him when you whimper softly.

"Oh!" You gasp, unable to control that blissful feeling of pleasure that runs through you. He does it again, a little harder this time. The corner of his mouth lifts into a cocky grin when you arch your back.

“Yes Ji! Fuck, I'll tell you.” Your eyes close and you grip the blankets on the bed in tight hands.

“Thank you y/n. God you're the fucking, mm! You're the best. Knew only you could help me. I knew you'd take care of me.” Jisung whispers, gripping the sheets by your head tight, his fingers curling around the fabric and sliding himself back into you. The bed creaks beneath you, echoing his movements as he fucks you harder. “Knew you'd make me feel good,” He murmurs, his voice thick with sex. "Tell me, y/n, does that feel good? Does my y/n feel good because of me? Tell me baby.”

Does he always talk like this with everyone he's been with before? You wonder and you realize he's way more experienced than you imagined. The thought makes you jealous but the feeling doesn't last. Each push of his cock inside of you pushes that green eyed demon out of your mind.

His voice, smooth like honey, drips with sweetness, coating you with each word he utters. The way he speaks to you only makes you wetter and you're craving him more. He's not holding back anymore, lost in the moment where all that matters is pleasure. Yours, his… you both need more. He's not waiting for a response; he knows you're speechless, your words stuck in your throat, your silence speaking volumes. With one hand supporting himself, he cups your breast, teasing and massaging the flesh, making you squirm under him before taking your nipple into his mouth. A low, guttural moan escapes him, reverberating through you body. You moan passionately, feeling the heat of his tongue against your skin. When he gently bites the hard peaks of your nipple your body arches into him and your left hand cradles his head.

Jisung inhales deeply, and your scent envelops him, drawing him in with its intoxicating allure. "Damn, you smell so good," Jisung murmurs, a soft smile playing on his lips and his heart literally skips a beat in his chest.

He swore nothing would change, but his heart rebels against that weak promise. Every day, he'll crave you more. Every glance, every touch will only intensify the want for you. The need to have you will only grow stronger. Your hands are all over him now, leaving invisible imprints that seem to penetrate straight to his heart. He finds himself addicted to your nails grazing his skin, the way your fingers weave through his hair, pulling him in closer to you with each tug.

Feeling his body pressing against yours, every movement sends waves of pleasure through you. Your hips respond to him, moving in sync and the sensation of his cock against your sweet spot makes you gasp softly. With each grind, the warmth grows blazing inside you. Jisung pauses, his lips leaving your nipple, and gazes down at you, his tousled hair framing his face in a way that makes him look irresistible in this moment. There's a silent shift between you that makes it harder to breathe.

"Close, aren't you, y/n?" he pants, a teasing grin playing on his lips. Something inside you explodes and a surge of electricity courses through you. It's not just the impending climax that has your insides uncoiling; but from that look he gives you. It's overwhelming in the best way possible. You feel like you're free falling through the clouds.

"Almost, Ji. So close," You breathe out softly.

"Yeah, baby, me too," He murmurs, his words laced with urgency. “I need you to come first. I'm gonna pull out." You shake your head and cling to him tighter, not wanting him to stop.

"Cum inside me, Sungie. Just keep going. Harder, Ji. Right there. Fuck!" Your voice grows louder with each word.

"Are you sure, y/n?" he asks, and when you nod, he grins at you. "Gonna give you all of me, baby. Fill you up real good. Gonna make a mess." He trails off with a soft curse. "Fuck, you're so beautiful," he adds, his voice becoming more raw, his desire evident in every breath. "You feel so good, y/n. So fucking good."

Jisung's hips buck wildly, thrusting faster and you scream his name, pleading with him to not stop, to not hold back, to fill you up. He's trembling, his breath coming out in ragged grunts as he pounds his cock into you, driving deeper with every thrust. Your body tenses up, and you manage to gasp out that you're about to cum just before it hits you like a tidal wave. And when it hits, fuck, it's like fireworks go off behind your eyelids. The most explosive sensation you've ever experienced.

“Gah, y/n! keep cumming, just like that. Y/n, you're gonna make me cum. So tight. Yeah, keep squeezing me with your pussy. I'm gonna cum. Oh, fuck, oh fuck, I'm cumming baby." He moans, his voice strained with pleasure.

You feel it deep when Jisung cums. It jets out in spurts forcefully, filling you and the sensation rips another unexpected orgasm from you. His thrusts slows to a gentle pace, guiding you through the aftershocks of your orgasm until your muscles relax around him. With a shudder, he finally stills, collapsing onto you panting, his weight supported by his forearms. Cupping your face in his hand, he looks down at you with a mix of satisfaction and longing in his eyes that makes you feel indescribable.

Your soft moans and the way you're clinging on to him, gives him a different sort of pleasure. Just knowing he's the one making you feel good, is a heady feeling, one that makes him want to hold onto this moment longer. But it's done and over now and he feels disappointed that such an amazing feeling, like being nestled inside of you, won't happen again.

Jisung's heart is pounding in his chest as he moves his face closer to you. His impulses taking over, "Can I kiss you?" he breathes out, voice shaky looking down at you.

You give a hesitant nod, feeling suddenly shy despite what just happened between you two, and he leans in to press his lips against yours. It's gentle, soft, sweeter than you expected. He doesn't use his tongue, unsure if you'd even want him to but he couldn't resist the urge to kiss you. The way you looked up at him, so pretty with those heavy lids and his cum dripping out of you… he just had to taste your lips, just once.

When he goes to pull away, you grab onto him, pulling him back and deepening the kiss. Your lips part, inviting him to explore you with his tongue, which he eagerly does. Your muscles tighten, and you realize his cock, which had been softening earlier, is now growing harder inside you. You gasp, intending to let him know it worked but before you can, he starts moving again and your gasp turns into moaning. There's no need for you two to keep having sex now that his erection can go away but you don't stop him. This time it's not just about relieving his pain or a means to an end, it's about something more. You both feel it, the change that he promised wouldn't happen, only you don't seem to care. No, you encourage Jisung to keep moving, to go deeper. You part your legs for him even more, letting him have all of you and surrender to the feelings pulsing through your body. It's all so new, these intense emotions you've developed for him.

Jisung's movements are slow and deliberate, each thrust unhurried. His cock slips out leisurely only to ease back in, a rhythm that makes you ache for more. More speed, more friction, more everything. You want to beg him to move faster, but the intensity of his stare leaves you feeling tongue-tied. In this moment, you're the epitome of beauty to him. Your unfocused gaze, your neediness, it's all so intoxicating, urging Jisung to continue his languid movements. He watches as your eyes struggle to focus, blinking several times before locking onto him once more and he loves it. It's as if each blink only deepens the desire he has for you.

He’s amazed that you're letting him continue to fuck you, even though there's no real reason to keep going. But damn, your body has him hooked already. You're spoiling him for any other girl he might end up with, unless... No, he won't let himself go there. He can't think of you as his, not after the promise he made. Still, he craves more of you in every possible way. Jisung's body trembles as he enters you, feeling your muscles tighten around him, and it brings a grin to his face knowing he can coax another orgasm out of you. He wonders how many can say they were able to make you cum multiple times. Did they take care of you like him? He thinks cockily. With a grunt that mingles with your soft moans, he thrusts harder, pushing deeper into you, feeling the tightness around his cock. It's a rhythm of in and out, urging his cock deeper, with nowhere to go.

Did any of your past hookups take their time like this? Fucking you nice and slow, or were they all just in it for a quick nut? Not Jisung, though. He could never, would never just fuck you for his own satisfaction. Your pleasure matters to him. It's what does it for him. He gets off on seeing you lose control because of him, on making you feel good. He doesn't even need to be buried deep inside your cunt to cum. He'd cum in his pants again fingering you or while you rode his face. Just the thought of you cumming on his face is enough to make him explode right now. The sounds you make, your touch, they're his undoing. That's why he came so hard earlier when all you did was caress his knee. He knows that now.

He's finding it impossible to hold back anymore, despite wanting you to cum first. He can't though, not when you gently place your hand on his cheek. That simple touch pushes him over the edge, and he pours himself into you with a raw moan, unable to control himself any longer. His legs shake, his toes curl, and he experiences an intense orgasm, far beyond what he had hoped the pill would give him. But it's not the pill—it's you. He knows it's you.

Watching Jisung cum inside you for the second time, you feel yourself reaching your own orgasm. With soft gasps, your cunt shudders around him. The look on Jisung's face when he cums is easily becoming addicting to you now. You could probably cum just by that look alone. It's like he's lost in the moment, completely taken over by pleasure. His face scrunches up, brows knitting together, round cheeks puffing out with each deep exhale.

You both lie there catching your breaths, quiet and completely still. His cock's still buried inside you, keeping you close. Your eyes lock, taking in every little detail of each other's faces while you both catch your breath. He could stay like this forever, your pussy snug around his cock, and he would've. Only if the sudden sound of the front door swinging open and Changbin shouting about pizza didn't burst that private bubble. It startles you both. So much so that Jisung jerks out of you with a loud pop and scrambling to his feet, making you squeal in surprise.

"Shit, do you think they heard that, Ji?" you whisper hastily pulling his sheets over your body. He shoots you a glance from across the room, a grin spreading across his face. He loves that post sex afterglow radiating from you. You've never looked hotter than you do right now, all sprawled out and naked in his bed.

“Nah, I think we're okay for now. They might just think we're taking a nap like we usually do after binge watching something.” He tells you. “We should probably get dressed in case though.” You nod and when you go to get out of the bed, he stops you. “Wait, lay back. It's my mess, let me clean it up. It's the least I can do for you.”

"Alright..." you murmur, settling back onto the bed with the blanket draped over your chest, your legs parting invitingly for Jisung. Your eyes drift to the ceiling, as you await his touch, but he hesitates. "Ji, what's—"

Your words catch in your throat as you feel the brush of his hair against your thighs and his mouth on you. "Oh, God, Ji. Fuck, that's not what I had in mind," You gasp out just as he flicks his tongue over your clit.

He glances up at you, a mischievous grin playing on his lips, his lips glistening with a mixture of your shared juices. "Do you want me to stop, baby? I've got the towel right here," he offers, his tone teasing.

Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him, pleasure pooling low in your belly. "No, don't stop," you urge softly, your voice laced with need. "Keep going. Please.”

You collapse onto the bed, feeling his head sink between your thighs. His lips and teeth graze your inner thigh, and you bite the sheets that are tightly balled up in your hands, trying to stifle any noises that might alert Chan and Changbin. When Jisung plunges his hot tongue inside of you, eating his cum and yours from your cunt like it's a five star gourmet meal, you almost let out the most pornographic sounding moan from the twirling motion of his tongue. You grab a pillow with quick hands covering your mouth so that it muffles your moans and cries.

He makes quick work in giving you another orgasm with that wicked tongue of his. You would've gladly returned the favor too if he didn't already cum in the towel that was supposed to be used for you. His mouth stayed locked on your clit while he moaned and pumped his cock into the towel. The vibration of his lips making you forget all about that thing you keep stashed in your bedside drawer at home. Yeah, Jisung eating your pussy like he was starving definitely didn't need to happen either but you're not complaining.

After getting dressed and making sure Chan and Changbin wouldn't notice anything odd, you and Jisung joined the duo and settled in for pizza, beer, and a movie. The TV casts a soft glow as some suspenseful action movie plays, but your mind is elsewhere, lost in a different kind of fantasy world. It's like your minds are synced, both drifting away from the movie. You and Jisung steal glances at each other in the dark living room, only to quickly look away.

Countless times he's caught you looking back in the direction of his room with a blush on your cheeks. He's hard just knowing that you're thinking about what happened and he wonders if you can still feel him like he can feel you. He just wants to say fuck the movie, to grab you by your wrist and drag you back to his room and fuck you again. He was actually worried that you would go through with the promise of pretending like sleeping together didn't happen but sometimes, in this case anyway, promises can be broken.

[estellan0vella]

Strawberries And Heaven: H.JS Han Jisung x fem!reader (College AU)

WC: 9.8K

CW: Simp Jisung (he's down bad), wingman Minho, wingman SKZ, Minho being a menace (standard), mention of masturbation General Masterlist SKZ Masterlist Part II Part III

The corridor smells faintly of disinfectant and coffee, a mix of sterile campus life and caffeine dependency that permeates Miroh College. It's Thursday afternoon, and that means two things: Jisung has Criminal Psychology at 3:00 p.m., and he's about to see you. The one girl who somehow, against all odds, has managed to drag him to this godforsaken lecture hall every week without fail.

Jisung shifts the strap of his backpack, pulling his black beanie down a bit further as he turns to his left and sees Minho, his best friend and self-proclaimed emotional support stalker, walking along beside him. Minho glances at him, rolling his eyes as they weave through the crowd of students lingering in the halls.

"Are you sure you have to come?" Jisung mutters, shoving his hands into the pocket of his hoodie. "It's one class. I don't need babysitting."

Minho snorts, adjusting his own baggy jeans that hang over his black boots. "Are you kidding? I have to see this so-called 'angel' who's got you dragging your ass to a lecture you'd usually skip. You've actually gone soft, dude."

Jisung rolls his eyes, tugging his beanie lower to hide the faint blush that creeps up his neck. "Soft? Fuck you, man. You don't understand. I can't just talk to her."

"Oh, right. You're so experienced with, what was it, every other girl on campus, but when it's this one? You're hopeless. Just go up and introduce yourself. You're good at that. Aren't you the guy who once convinced a chick to lend you her psychology notes with a wink and a compliment?"

"Just tell me you want me to die of embarrassment," Jisung says flatly. "Look, it's different. She smells like strawberries and—" He waves his hand vaguely, struggling to find the right words. "I dunno, heaven?"

Minho stops dead in his tracks, eyebrows raised. "Strawberries and heaven? Jesus Christ, Jisung. You're in deep, aren't you?"

"Shut up," Jisung grumbles, leading them into the lecture hall and gesturing to the seats at the back. "Just keep it quiet, yeah? She's probably already here."

Minho follows, his grin almost wicked as he surveys the room from their vantage point in the back row. "I bet she's not here yet. Relax. You look like you're gonna puke."

"Thanks, man. Real encouraging," Jisung mutters, slumping down in his seat and folding his arms over his chest. His leg bounces slightly as he waits, eyeing the clock that ticks towards 3:00.

The door to the lecture hall creaks open, and just like that, you walk in, casually strolling to her usual seat two rows ahead.

Jisung freezes, his gaze locked on her as you move, the clinking sound of your silver rings faintly audible you brush a strand of hair back. You are wearing faded, low-rise mom jeans that fit you perfectly, a white camisole with lace hems, and a shell-shaped clip holding your hair up in a messy twist. And those hoop earrings, the big silver ones that seem to catch the light just right, make your whole look glow.

Minho follows Jisung's stare and lets out a low whistle. "Damn. So, this is her, huh? I'll give it to you. She's hot. Definitely too hot for you."

Jisung's elbow shoots out instinctively, landing in Minho's thigh with a satisfying thud.

"Ow, fuck! Jesus," Minho bites back a groan, clutching his leg as he glares at Jisung. "What the fuck, man?"

"Keep it down, jackass," Jisung mutters under his breath, trying not to draw attention. "You weren't even supposed to be here, remember? You're a vet major, go learn about cats or something."

Minho's laughter is barely muffled as he holds his leg. "Nah, you're not getting rid of me that easy. I need to see you crash and burn, maybe. Or, if you manage to pull this off, I get to witness a miracle."

"Don't you have a dog to neuter?" Jisung hisses, but Minho just grins and leans back, crossing his arms.

The professor begins setting up, shuffling through notes and connecting the laptop to the projector, while you settle in your seat. Jisung can barely breathe as your scent drifts back towards him. Strawberries. Damn it. Every time, it's like he's being hypnotized.

"See?" Jisung whispers, nudging Minho. "Strawberries and heaven. I swear."

Minho just smirks, leaning closer to Jisung. "Yeah, yeah, I got it. You're totally whipped. She hasn't even looked your way once, has she?"

Jisung slumps, his gaze locked onto the back of your head. The seashell clip is pearly and white, almost glowing against your hair. His leg starts bouncing again.

Minho shakes his head. "Dude, seriously, just say something. You're acting like she's a unicorn or some shit. She's just a girl."

"She's not just a girl," Jisung snaps quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "You wouldn't get it, okay? Look at her. She's different."

"Different how?" Minho raises an eyebrow, still whispering. "She dresses like she's straight out of a 90s rom-com."

"Exactly!" Jisung says, eyes lighting up. "She's, like, a 90s dream. She's cool. And she's smart and beautiful. She's my 90s dream girl"

As if on cue, you shift slightly in your seat, glancing down at your notebook, fingers tracing over the page absently as you twist one of your rings.

"Look at her, man," Jisung breathes, sounding almost dazed. "She's right there."

Minho watches him, clearly unimpressed. "You're fucked."

"Thanks, Minho," Jisung mutters sarcastically, but he can't keep the nervous excitement out of his voice. "Look, can you just chill? I'm this close to getting her attention."

"By doing what, exactly?" Minho scoffs. "Staring at the back of her head and hoping she telepathically realizes you're in love with her?"

"Dude, shut up!" Jisung hisses, but his cheeks flush, and he slinks down in his seat, trying to keep a low profile. He watches as you tap your pen absently against your notebook, seemingly unaware of the small, stifled chaos unfolding behind you.

"Right," Minho mutters, trying to keep a straight face. "When you're done writing sonnets about her scent and staring at her hair clip, let me know if you plan on actually talking to her."

"Shut. The. Fuck. Up," Jisung grumbles, but his eyes flick back to you, lingering.

Minho glances at Jisung, a mischievous glint in his eye, and without warning, snatches Jisung's pencil case from the desk, stuffing it into his own bag before Jisung can react.

"Dude, what the—" Jisung starts, reaching to grab it back, but Minho holds up a finger, silencing him.

"Trust me, you'll thank me later," Minho whispers, leaning forward until he's right behind you.

With a quick tap on your shoulder, he flashes you his most charming smile as you turn around, your expression polite albeit a little surprised.

"Hi," Minho says smoothly, "Sorry to bother you, but my dumbass friend here totally forgot his pens and stuff. You wouldn't happen to have a couple to lend us, would you?"

You blink at Minho, then at Jisung, who's sitting with a wide-eyed, slightly mortified look, glaring daggers at his so-called friend.

But you're unfazed, a warm smile spreading across your face as you nod. "Oh, yeah, sure! Here." You dig into your bag and pull out two pens, holding them out to Minho with a little laugh. "Good thing I always over-pack."

Minho takes the pens with a wink. "Now, aren't you just the sweetest?" He flashes another grin. "I'm Minho, by the way. And you are?"

"Y/N," you say, a soft smile playing on your lips. You turn back in your seat but hesitate, glancing back at Minho with a curious look. "I don't think I've seen you in here before."

Minho leans back, adopting an air of nonchalance. "That's 'cause I'm just auditing today. Thought I'd check out what my good buddy here's been raving about." He gestures towards Jisung, who's trying to look anywhere but at you. "I'm minoring in animal behaviour, and apparently, you're discussing the nature versus nurture argument today? I figured I'd see how you forensic folks tackle it compared to my animal kingdom friends."

You nod, genuinely interested. "Yeah, today's lecture is about the developmental aspects of criminal psychology. It's fascinating, really. Some parts overlap with animal behaviour when you consider instinctual behaviours. It's cool to see how psychology adapts across disciplines."

"Right?" Minho nods enthusiastically, playing it up. "But my good buddy here," he places a firm hand on Jisung's shoulder, and Jisung finally meets your eyes, looking equal parts shy and frustrated. "This is Jisung. The one who seems to have forgotten basic lecture etiquette and all his own pens."

You turn to Jisung, your smile soft. "I know. We've had this class together since the start of the semester."

Jisung's eyes widen. "You know?"

You nod, pointing subtly at the front of his notebook, where his name is scrawled in black ink. "Yeah, your name's on your notebook. Hard to miss, honestly."

Jisung's cheeks redden, and Minho has to press his lips together to keep from laughing at his friend's reaction. He shoots Jisung a sidelong glance, a smirk dancing on his face.

Turning back around, you give a small smile, "Anyway, enjoy the lecture, guys."

As soon as you're facing forward, Minho leans in close to Jisung, whispering, "She's acknowledged your existence, man. You're welcome."

Jisung clenches his fists, shooting a fierce glare at Minho before delivering a swift punch to his thigh, harder than before.

"Fuck!" Minho barely contains his yelp, face contorting in pain as he clutches his leg. "Dude, what the fuck?"

"Keep your voice down," Jisung mutters, his face still flushed. "And don't ever pull something like that again, you asshole."

Minho smirks through the pain, rubbing his leg. "Oh, come on. You should be thanking me. You didn't exactly look like you had the guts to make a move yourself."

"I don't need you meddling, okay?" Jisung hisses. He glances at you again, a bit more emboldened now, seeing you jotting notes, completely absorbed in the lecture. He feels a weird thrill knowing that you know who he is. That you remember his name. She knows my name, he repeats in his head, almost in disbelief.

"Sure, you don't need me," Minho mutters under his breath, chuckling. "That's why you've been stalking her with your eyes for the past few months like some lovesick puppy. Face it, dude, you're completely whipped."

"Shut up before I give you another dead leg," Jisung warns, his gaze shifting nervously as you turn your head ever so slightly to stretch, your face calm and focused. He's both relieved and mildly disappointed you didn't catch him staring.

Minho just leans back, folding his arms smugly as the professor starts the lecture, his voice booming through the hall. Jisung tries his best to pay attention, but his eyes keep flicking back to you, noting the small details. How you twirl the pen absentmindedly between your fingers, how your silver rings catch the light, how you bite the inside of your cheek when you're deep in thought.

He's completely lost in his thoughts, only halfway aware of Minho smirking beside him, until the professor's voice jolts him back to reality.

"Mr. Han," the professor calls, eyebrow raised, and Jisung snaps to attention, his heart hammering. "Care to share your thoughts on the influence of early attachment theory in criminal psychology?"

"Oh, uh, yeah. Yeah, of course." He clears his throat, scrambling for words while he can practically feel Minho's eyes burning into the side of his face. "Well, uh, early attachment theory basically suggests that the bonds formed in childhood can affect...um, behaviour patterns later in life. So, if there's a, uh, lack of healthy attachment early on, it can potentially influence-"

"Very insightful, Mr. Han," the professor interrupts, looking somewhat surprised. "It's encouraging to see you're paying attention."

Jisung sinks down in his seat, feeling Minho's barely restrained laughter beside him.

Minho leans over, whispering, "Congrats, you managed to bullshit your way through that without sounding like a total idiot."

"Thanks for nothing," Jisung mutters, hoping he can make it through the rest of the lecture without any more mortifying incidents. But then he catches you glancing over your shoulder, a hint of a smile on your lips, and he has to look away quickly to hide the stupid grin spreading across his face.

Minho nudges him, not missing a thing. "See? She's looking at you, dude. Progress."

That night in Jisung's room at the Alpha Phi frat house is filled with the flashing lights of Mario Kart on the TV and the sounds of brutal competition. Jisung's focused, leaning forward, button-mashing like his life depends on it, but Minho? Minho's lounging back, one hand on his controller, barely trying.

Jisung's character hits a banana peel, spinning out on the screen. "Oh, for fuck's sake! This stupid fucking game!"

Minho laughs, glancing over with a smirk. "You're terrible at this, dude."

"Shut up. You distracted me!" Jisung grumbles, tossing the controller on the bed beside him. "You're one of those lucky players. No skill, all luck."

"Uh-huh," Minho says, scooting to the edge of the bed and looking over at Jisung. "But I think we've got more important shit to talk about."

"Do we?" Jisung eyes him suspiciously. "'Cause I'd rather just forget the disaster that was today's lecture and how you spoke to her more than I did."

"Yeah, no, we're not forgetting it. Actually," Minho says, setting his controller down, "we're making a plan. You need an action plan, and I'm gonna help you."

Jisung raises an eyebrow, almost laughing at the audacity. "You're going to help me?"

Minho grins, sitting up and nodding, deadly serious. "Yep. What kind of best friend would I be if I let my friend sit around pining like some tragic little Shakespeare character? You, my friend, need a strategy."

"Strategy," Jisung repeats the word as though it's foreign like Minho just told him to build a rocket to the moon. "You realize that I have no idea what I'm doing here, right?"

"Exactly! You are amazing with women for casual hook ups but genuine feelings? You are useless. That's why you have me," Minho says, crossing his arms. "I've got a plan."

"Oh, you have a plan?" Jisung sits up, eyebrows raised. "You're really taking this seriously, aren't you?"

Minho scoffs. "If by seriously, you mean I'm not gonna let my friend completely fuck it up, then yes."

"Right," Jisung mutters, rolling his eyes. "And what is this master plan, Minho?"

"Oh, no, no," Minho says with a smirk, wagging a finger. "I'm not telling you what it is just yet."

Jisung sighs, flopping back on his bed. "Great. So I'm supposed to just sit here and trust you?"

"Absolutely," Minho says, smug. "But don't worry. I'm not a complete asshole. I want my confident, borderline cocky best friend back. You're like this-" He gestures vaguely at Jisung like he's pointing at some hopeless little creature. "Weird, hopeless romantic now."

Jisung grabs a pillow and flings it at Minho, who dodges with a laugh. "It's not my fault, okay? You saw her. She's- She's unreal."

Minho raises his hands in surrender. "Fine, fine. And hey, I'm all for it if it means getting you out of this sad sack of shit phase. If I have to help you woo a girl who dresses like she's in the Spice Girls, then that's what I have to do."

Jisung pauses, frowning. "Spice Girls? Nah, she's more of a Sugababe"

Minho rolls his eyes, a hint of exasperation in his voice. "Do you want my help or not?"

"Yes, I do," Jisung says, almost begrudgingly. "I need it, obviously."

"Then she's a Spice Girl," Minho declares with finality, earning a reluctant laugh from Jisung.

"Fine, Spice Girl," Jisung mutters, rolling his eyes. "But seriously, you better not fuck this up for me. I'm trusting you, which feels like a massive mistake."

"Hey," Minho says, raising a finger, his tone mockingly offended, "when have I ever let you down?"

Jisung snorts. "Need I remind you of the infamous barbecue incident?"

Minho waves his hand dismissively. "That was different. And technically, you were the one who set the grill on fire."

"You handed me lighter fluid, you idiot!" Jisung argues, laughing despite himself.

"Okay, but that was in the past," Minho says, grinning. "This is the present, my dude. And I'm telling you, I've got this. We're going to break you out of your sad little funk, and you're gonna have that confident Han Jisung swagger back in no time."

Jisung flops back against the bed, sighing deeply. "You think it's really that easy?"

"Trust me," Minho says, his smirk turning into something more genuine. "It's easier than you think. Plus, it's you. You're funny as hell, weirdly charming, objectively hot, and at least on the same planet as her intellectually. She's got no chance."

Jisung rolls his eyes, but he's grinning now. "Yeah, yeah, I get it. I'm basically irresistible."

"Exactly," Minho says with a satisfied nod. "But seriously, dude. I'm not letting you mess this up. It's gonna be fine."

Jisung's grin fades just a bit, a hint of nerves creeping back in. "I just- I don't know, man. I've never felt this way about anyone before. She's just different."

"Of course, she is," Minho says, his tone a little softer. "And that's why you're gonna let me help you. Tomorrow's a new day, Jisung. In no time, we'll get you in front of her without you sounding like a total fucking loser. And trust me, you're gonna thank me."

Jisung rolls his eyes but feels a sense of relief he hasn't felt since this whole crush started. "Yeah, yeah. Just remember, no fuck ups, Minho. I'm trusting you with this."

Minho grins, reaching for the controllers. "Just leave it to me. Now, shut up and get ready to lose again."

It's one of those brisk fall days on campus where the chill in the air contrasts with the bright sun, casting golden light on the trees scattered across Miroh College. You're strolling across the courtyard, books clutched to your chest, barely paying attention to the buzz of students around you.

"Y/N!" someone calls out.

You turn, mildly surprised, to see Minho weaving through the crowd, jogging to catch up. He's got a cocky half-smile plastered on his face, and he's holding something in his hand. As he comes to a stop in front of you, slightly out of breath but still looking annoyingly composed, he holds out his hand, revealing the pen you lent him in class the other week.

"Here," he says, grinning as he offers it back to you. "Didn't think I was actually gonna keep it, did you?"

You laugh, tucking the pen into your trouser pocket. "Honestly? I kind of figured you'd forgotten about it. But thanks." You give him a curious look, noting the way he's standing there as if he has more to say.

He clears his throat, a little too casually. "So, are you free right now?"

"Yeah, I don't have another class for a bit," you say, shifting your books in your arms. "Why?"

Minho shoves his hands in his pockets, rocking back on his heels like he's considering something. "Wanna grab a coffee at the cafe? I could use some advice about a girl, and you seem like the kind of person who knows what to say and gives good advice."

You raise an eyebrow, surprised. "Me? Giving relationship advice?"

"Yeah, I know," Minho laughs, "but trust me, you're more qualified than anyone else I know. Plus, I'm a little desperate and a female perspective will be really helpful. Power of the female gaze and all that"

You can't help but laugh. "Alright, alright. I'm in. Let's go."

The campus cafe is buzzing with the usual lunchtime crowd, and you slip into a booth by the window, tucking your books beside you. As you settle in, Minho sets his bag down, glancing toward the counter. "I'll get our drinks," he says, grinning before heading up to order.

You're only half-watching him until you notice the guy working behind the counter. Jisung, from your Criminal Psychology class. He spots you almost instantly, and his eyes go comically wide, like he's just seen a ghost, or worse. 

Minho sees Jisung's reaction immediately and, with a grin, flashes him a big thumbs up, clearly enjoying the situation. Jisung's expression shifts to something closer to horror, his gaze flicking from Minho to you, then back again as Minho approaches the counter.

"Relax, dude," Minho mutters when he reaches Jisung. "An iced americano for me and a caramel latte for the lady."

Jisung crosses his arms, narrowing his eyes at Minho. "I swear, if this is some elaborate plan to fuck with me, I am going to spit in your coffee. Like big time spit, obnoxious amounts that shouldn't be humanly possible"

Minho smirks, leaning on the counter like he's sharing some big secret. "Ooh, I like a little danger. But seriously, I am wingmanning you right now, so maybe hold the bodily fluids?"

Jisung rolls his eyes, pretending to be annoyed, but the relief on his face is evident. "Fine. But what's your big plan? Don't tell me you're just-"

"Listen, man," Minho interrupts, lowering his voice and casting a quick glance back at you, who's busy scrolling on your phone. "I'm gonna ask her for advice. Tell her I like this girl in my vet class and don't know how to talk to her, and the girl barely knows my name."

Jisung frowns, processing that. "But that's exactly- Oh, I get it now!" he says, realization dawning on him. "You're trying to figure out what I should do, aren't you?"

Minho gives him a look, exasperated. "Obviously. You think I'd drag her here just for the hell of it? Now, chill. Act natural and I will get your answers"

Jisung lets out a small, relieved sigh, finally grinning. "I'm not gonna lie, this is actually kinda genius."

Minho leans in closer, tapping the counter with a smug smile. "I know. I'm the best friend you could ever wish for. A blessing, really. You wouldn't live without me, well you'd live in the sad little turtle shell you duck into each time you see her"

Jisung smirks, grabbing the drinks and sliding them onto the counter. "Yeah, yeah. I still might spit in your drink."

Minho winks, grabbing the coffees with a smirk. "Do your worst."

He heads back over to the booth, setting your caramel latte in front of you as he slides into the seat across from you, his iced americano in hand. You offer a small, grateful smile as you stir your latte.

"So," you say, taking a sip. "What's going on with this girl?"

Minho sighs dramatically, leaning back and shaking his head like he's in over his head. "Alright, so there's this girl in my vet class. She's cute, no stunning, way too smart, and honestly, I feel like I barely exist to her."

You smile, nodding. "So, like, what's the problem? You're outgoing, funny, objectively good looking with the whole red hair, football frat thing. can't you just introduce yourself?"

"See, I thought of that," Minho says, playing up the thoughtful expression. "But she's, like, different, you know? Not the type who falls for my usual charm."

You laugh. "Oh, really? And what makes her different?"

"She's actually serious about her studies. And she's, like gentle and kind?" Minho looks at you, brows raised as if for confirmation. "Kinda like you. I feel like I'd come off like an idiot trying to get her attention."

You sip your coffee thoughtfully, thinking it over. "I think maybe just be yourself, then? Like, you don't have to be all charming or witty. Sometimes people respond better to honesty."

Minho nods, his expression almost sincere as he takes in your words. "That's actually good advice. So, just like come out with it? Just be like, 'Hey, I'm Minho, and I think you're cute'?"

You smile, shrugging. "Why not? I mean, sure, it's direct, but if she doesn't know you that well, she might appreciate that. People can usually tell when someone's being genuine."

Minho glances at the counter where Jisung's watching like a hawk, pretending to be busy cleaning the espresso machine. Minho subtly raises his eyebrows at him, as if to say, See? This is gold.

Jisung gives him a tiny nod, barely hiding his smile. From his station behind the counter, he watches as you talk, clearly engaged, your whole demeanour warm and relaxed. He doesn't know how Minho pulled this off, but for the first time in weeks, he feels like he might actually have a chance.

Meanwhile, Minho leans in closer, lowering his voice. "Okay, but what if she thinks I'm too much of a goof? Like, if she sees me as some obnoxious frat guy?"

You wave off his concern. "I don't know her, but if she's smart, she'll see past that. Besides, being a little goofy isn't the worst thing. Just don't go overboard, you know?"

Minho nods thoughtfully, leaning back as if he's deep in contemplation. "Yeah, yeah, keep it cool. Show her I'm not just some frat asshole."

You laugh, taking another sip. "Exactly. Just be Minho, not whatever character you're usually playing."

Minho raises his iced americano in a mock toast. "To being myself," he says with a grin. You laugh, clinking your coffee cup with his, and he makes a mental note to remember every word you just said so he can relay it to Jisung later.

The last slide of the lecture fades from the projector, and the usual rustling of notebooks and bags fills the room as everyone begins packing up. You're sliding your textbook and notes into your tote bag, ready to head out, when you feel a light tap on your shoulder. You turn, surprised, and there he is. 

Jisung wearing an easy smile and an outfit that's surprisingly layered, intentional and kind of hot: black trousers, combat boots, a long-sleeve blue t-shirt beneath a grey graphic tee, and a cream-coloured cap, chains around his neck catching the light.

For a second, you're caught off guard; usually, you only ever catch a glimpse of him as he slips into a seat at the back just as the lecture's starting, often a little flustered. But today, he's right here, all grins and casual confidence.

"Hey," he says, his voice warm as he shoves his hands into his pockets. "So, that lecture was something, right?"

You nod, smiling back. "Yeah, Professor Kim really went in on the whole behavioural implications of early attachment theory thing. Like, there was no mercy."

Jisung lets out a small laugh. "Seriously, I thought he was going to lose it when that one guy asked if criminal behaviour could be 'genetically contagious.' Like, holy shit, man, read the room."

You laugh, rolling your eyes. "Oh my god, right? I was ready to crawl under the desk."

"Same," Jisung chuckles, relaxing a bit. He remembers Minho's words from earlier in the week: Just be yourself. And he tries to keep that in mind, despite the slight nervousness bubbling under the surface.

"So, you're, uh, you're always on top of the reading, huh?" he asks, trying to keep it light as he leans back casually against the desk beside yours. "I feel like you could practically teach this class."

You shrug, shoving your last notebook into your bag and giving him a friendly smile. "Yeah, maybe. I just find it interesting, you know? All the psychology behind why people do what they do. It's fascinating to think there are patterns to it, stuff you can study and predict."

"Totally," Jisung says, nodding as if he completely gets it, even though half the time he's barely keeping up. "I mean, it's kinda cool to think that there's a method to what seems like total chaos."

"Exactly!" you say, your eyes lighting up as you lean against the desk, looking at him with genuine interest. "It's like unlocking mysteries in people's minds. Or at least trying to, anyway."

Jisung grins, a little taken aback by how animated you are. He's seen you in class, obviously, but seeing you like this, so close, he feels like he's getting a rare glimpse of who you actually are. And, damn, it's even better than he'd expected.

"I never thought of it that way," he admits, rubbing the back of his neck. "I guess I usually just think, 'Okay, study this, survive, move on.' But it sounds way cooler when you put it like that. Makes me actually want to put an effort in to studying"

You laugh, looking down as you swing your bag over your shoulder. "You know, surviving is honestly a valid approach. Sometimes, I feel like I'm just trying to get through the day without having a mental breakdown."

Jisung chuckles, nodding. "Can't argue with that. But hey, you seem like you've got it all figured out."

You give him a playful look. "Trust me, it's all an act. Half the time, I have no idea what I'm doing."

"Same here," he says, feeling a rush of relief. "I thought I was the only one faking it."

You smile, shaking your head. "Nope. We're all just stumbling our way through. Story of student life I suppose"

Jisung's eyes linger on you for a second longer than he means to, and he suddenly remembers Minho's advice to keep things relaxed but confident. "Well, maybe if I can get some of that magic stumbling hiding confidence you've got, I might actually make it to the end of the semester without flunking out."

You raise an eyebrow, amused. "Oh yeah? I'll let you in on a secret, it's just caffeine and pretending I understand what's going on."

Jisung laughs, nodding in understanding. "Noted. I'll double up on the caffeine, then."

You grin, your gaze softening. "Good plan."

After a beat, you glance at the clock. "Anyway, I should probably get going. Got another class in, like, ten minutes, and I'm already halfway across campus from it."

"Right, yeah," Jisung says, moving back a step to let you pass. "Well, thanks for not minding me, uh, ambushing you like that."

"Not at all, it was nice talking to someone who actually listens in the lectures," you say, smiling warmly. "See you next week, Jisung."

You turn and head for the door, giving him a little wave before you slip out. Jisung watches you go, feeling an unexpected rush of adrenaline, and once you're gone, he lets out a long breath, barely containing the wide grin spreading across his face.

He can still hear Minho's voice in his head, saying, Just be yourself. And, for once, that had felt like it was enough.

Jisung practically kicks Minho's door open as he barrels into the room, eyes lit up with excitement. But his enthusiasm stumbles as he takes in the scene.

"Jisung, are you serious?!" Minho exclaims, glaring at him. "You just killed my mood! I was about to bust, man!"

Jisung rolls his eyes, unbothered, crossing his arms. "Yeah, whatever, sorry for ruining your little wank session, but, like terrible porn choice, by the way. Boring as hell."

Minho flips him off as he grabs his underwear, tugging them back up with an exaggerated sigh. "Fine, fine. So what the hell is so important that you've gotta bust down my door like you're the cops?"

Jisung's face breaks into a wide grin. "Dude. She spoke to me. We had an actual conversation! I spoke to her. Like, a real conversation."

Minho stares at him, caught between disbelief and amusement as he pulls his headphones off, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. "No shit?" he says, still looking slightly dazed from Jisung's interruption.

"Yeah, no shit," Jisung says, almost bouncing in place.

Minho smirks, his eyes narrowing as he looks Jisung up and down. "Wait, is that why you put actual effort into your outfit today? And the hair, too? By 'styled,' of course, I mean just putting a cap on that mop."

Jisung grins, rubbing the back of his neck. "Okay, yeah, maybe I tried a little. But, dude, it worked!"

Minho snickers. "So you finally did it, huh? Had a full conversation with her?"

Jisung nods enthusiastically. "Hell yeah, we did! We talked about the lecture, and, like, I don't know, she was so easy to talk to and she said it was nice talking to me, like she wasn't even weirded out that I started talking to her. It felt so normal?"

Minho raises an eyebrow. "Alright, so now what?"

Jisung blinks, his excitement faltering for a second. "What do you mean, now what? I don't know. Help me?"

Minho sighs, shaking his head as he stands up. "How are you so useless with this? Okay, genius idea, invite her to the next game."

Jisung's face lights up again. "Oh, shit. Yeah! I'll invite her to the game, get her there cheering us on..."

"Exactly, dumbass. I'll help you score a touchdown or two, and you'll look like a total beast. Win-win." Minho smirks, clearly pleased with his own idea.

"Dude, you're the best," Jisung says, grinning. "I'll totally owe you one for this."

Minho claps his hand on Jisung's shoulder, a smug grin on his face. Jisung instantly recoils, cringing. "Ew! That's your dick hand!"

Minho laughs, slapping him harder on the back for good measure. "Hey, that's what you get for ruining my nut, you absolute menace."

Jisung groans, wiping his shoulder with exaggerated disgust. "This is why people lock doors, Minho."

"Oh, like you've ever knocked once in your life," Minho retorts, rolling his eyes. "But wait. You got so far today, and you don't even have a way to reach her? A number? Instagram?"

Jisung's face falls, and he slumps onto Minho's bed with a defeated sigh. "Nope. I didn't even think of it until now."

Minho throws his hands up, letting out an exasperated sigh. "Useless. You're actually useless. This is going to take so much more work than I thought."

"Hey!" Jisung protests, but he's laughing now, leaning back on the bed with a sigh. "Alright, alright, I'll figure it out. You're right, though, I'll need her number. Any genius ideas?"

Minho shakes his head with a dramatic sigh. "Good thing you've got me. I'll brainstorm. But seriously, you better not screw this up."

"You'll help me if I do right?"

"After laughing in your face obviously,"

The sun's dipping low, casting a warm golden glow over the field as Chan has the football team running drills. Again. The guys are panting, practically dying under Chan's merciless watch, their bodies burning from the gruelling set of push-ups, burpees, and sprints he's making them do. Even Jisung, who usually manages to keep his energy up, is starting to feel like his limbs are made of lead.

But as he glances over toward the college track, he spots you jogging, a look of relaxed determination on your face as you breeze through each lap. It's ridiculous. You look like you're gliding effortlessly, not a bead of sweat in sight, while the team grunts and groans with exhaustion.

Minho notices Jisung's gaze drifting. He elbows him, nodding over toward you. "Isn't that your dream '90s girl over there?"

Jisung's attention snaps back, his face flushing as he realizes Minho and the rest of the guys nearby are watching him.

Chan and the others follow Minho's gaze, squinting across the track. You're in a pair of low-rise sweatpants that sit comfortably on your hips, paired with a cropped white camisole with a lace trim, and white sneakers.

Your hair's pinned up in that familiar seashell claw clip, a few strands falling loose around your face. It's the kind of look that would have looked right at home in an old music video, and it's like you walked out of a '90s dream.

"Damn, she doesn't look tired at all," Changbin mutters, still trying to catch his breath from Chan's never-ending drills.

"She's putting us all to shame," Jeongin says, half-laughing, half-wheezing. "How is she just breezing through those laps?"

Seungmin glances at Jisung with a smirk. "Wait, don't tell me you're struggling to talk to her?"

Minho nods with a heavy, dramatic sigh. "It's actually hurting my soul, and I didn't even know I had one of those."

Felix raises his eyebrows, laughing. "Revolving door of women Han Jisung can't talk to a girl? Are we in an alternate universe?"

Jisung rolls his eyes. "Oh, please. You guys are being so dramatic."

"Hey, it's not every day that the great Han Jisung meets his match," Chan teases, wiping sweat from his brow. "Honestly though, Minho, we all doubted you had a soul."

"Thanks, Chan, that's what I go for," Minho says with a smirk. "But yeah, Jisung, now's your chance. Go ask her for her number. And invite her to the game while you're at it."

Jisung looks horrified, glancing down at his sweaty clothes and feeling his hair matted from sweat. "Right now? While I'm covered in sweat?"

"Yes," Minho says, his voice firm. "There's no time like the present. You're gonna overthink it if you wait."

Seungmin chimes in with an encouraging nod, his tone mocking. "Go on, man. Ask her out. Don't worry, you can do it. Maybe."

"Shut up," Jisung grumbles, but he can feel the nervous energy building.

Felix elbows him playfully. "C'mon, this is a moment for the history books. Don't chicken out."

With a mischievous look, Minho cups his hands around his mouth, ignoring Jisung's wide-eyed stare. "Yo, Y/N! Come join us!"

You pause, looking over toward the group with a curious expression as you pull one of your earbuds out. After a moment of hesitation, you jog over, slowing to a walk as you approach the crowd of sweaty football players.

"Hey," you greet, giving a small smile as you reach them, taking in the group with an amused look. "You guys look like you're in hell."

"You don't know the half of it," Changbin groans, leaning over to catch his breath. "I think Chan's trying to kill us."

Chan just smirks. "That's how you get a winning team, my friend." Chan's eyes flicker to the Walkman clipped to your waistband, and Chan's face lights up with sudden recognition. "Hold on, is that a real Walkman?"

You smile, nodding. "Yep, authentic. Found it in a thrift shop, and it still works perfectly."

"That's insane," Chan says, sounding genuinely impressed. "I haven't seen one of those in, like, forever."

Jisung takes a deep breath, gathering his courage, and steps forward with a lopsided grin. "Hey, so, uh, we have a game coming up this Saturday," he says, his voice surprisingly steady despite the nervous excitement bubbling in his chest. "I thought maybe, if you're free, you could come by? Cheer us on?"

You tilt your head, clearly considering it as you give him a warm smile. "Yeah, I think I'd like that. It sounds fun."

Jisung's grin widens, the relief flooding through him as you agree. "Awesome, yeah. We'll- we'll definitely put on a good show."

Minho raises an eyebrow, smirking at Jisung's wide grin. "Oh, he's gonna be putting on a show, alright."

Chan lets out a small laugh, nodding approvingly. "Better make it a good one, Jisung."

You glance at the group, laughing softly at the way they're all watching Jisung, clearly amused and intrigued by the whole interaction. "Well, good luck with the rest of practice, guys. Hope you survive it."

"Thanks, Y/N," Jisung says, almost too eagerly. 

The team watches as you jog over to the bleachers, earbuds back in and totally oblivious to the chaos unfolding behind you. Minho's gaze follows you for a second before he turns on Jisung and slaps him upside the head.

"Ow!" Jisung yelps, rubbing the back of his head. "Dude, I asked her to the game! What the hell was that for?"

Minho sighs, looking at him like he's the densest person on the planet. "You didn't ask for her number, you idiot!"

"Oh. Shit."

Chan crosses his arms and nods towards the bleachers. "Alright, well, go ask her now! What are you waiting for?"

"Right!" Jisung says, almost tripping over himself as he prepares to take off, only to freeze in place, still staring at the bleachers as if they're a hundred miles away.

Changbin squints at him, an amused smirk on his face. "Uh, Jisung, you haven't moved."

Jisung blinks, nodding. "I'm going!" But he's still firmly rooted to the spot.

Hyunjin snorts, crossing his arms. "You still haven't moved, man. It's like you're glued to the grass or something."

Minho lets out an exaggerated sigh, pressing a hand to his chest dramatically. "There it is again, this pain in the soul I didn't know I had. Honestly, Jisung, you're killing me."

Felix and Jeongin, watching with growing impatience, exchange a glance before stepping forward and shoving Jisung forward with a well-placed push. Caught off guard, he stumbles but quickly regains his footing, shooting them a quick glare before he jogs over to you.

By now, you're sitting on the bleachers, scrolling through your phone, clearly enjoying the peace. When Jisung stops in front of you, a little breathless, you glance up with a curious smile, taking out an earbud.

"Hey! Back already?" you ask, giving him an amused look. "Did Chan finally cut you guys a break?"

Jisung scratches the back of his neck, feeling his usual bravado abandon him in the face of your calm, easy smile. "Uh not quite," he says, mentally cursing himself for how awkward he feels. "But, um, I just realized about the game on Saturday. I could, you know, send you details if you wanted them."

You raise an eyebrow, nodding. "Oh, yeah, that'd be great."

"Right. So, uh, could I maybe have your number?" He's practically holding his breath, his pulse racing, but he tries to play it cool. "You know, as a friend, for game details and stuff."

"Of course!" you say, nodding. You reach into your bag and pull out a pen, scribbling your number on a small slip of paper before handing it to him. "Here you go. Just text me when and where, and I'll be there."

Jisung takes the paper, feeling a ridiculous amount of triumph as he clutches it like it's some sacred artefact. "Awesome. Thanks!"

You smile, tucking your earbuds back in. "No problem. Good luck with the rest of practice!"

As you jog off, Jisung watches you for a second, still gripping the slip of paper before he turns and heads back to the field.

The guys are all watching him expectantly as he approaches, Minho crossing his arms with a knowing smirk. "Well? How'd it go?"

Jisung waves the piece of paper triumphantly. "I got her number!"

Seungmin raises an eyebrow, noting the look on Jisung's face. "But...?"

Jisung sighs, the realization settling in as he slumps slightly. "I friend zoned myself."

The entire team lets out a collective groan, most of them doubling over with laughter or shaking their heads in disbelief.

"What is wrong with you?" Minho says, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "Are you trying to sabotage yourself, or what?"

Jisung rubs his temples, feeling his frustration build. "I don't know, man! Usually, I can get a girl's number and have her in my bed in, like, ten minutes. It's like all my usual shit just falls apart when I'm around her."

Hyunjin laughs, patting him on the back. "Maybe that's a sign, genius. Try being, I don't know yourself?"

Chan snorts, crossing his arms. "This is a first. Han Jisung, a bumbling self friend zoning mess"

Jisung huffs, rolling his eyes. "Thanks for the support, guys."

Felix grins, his voice softening. "Come on, man. Just be real with her. No more overthinking. Invite her to the game, hang out, just chill. Don't overcomplicate it."

Minho shakes his head, laughing. "Right. We'll do the complicated part on the field. Just focus on not friend zoning yourself again, okay?"

Jisung lets out a reluctant laugh, tucking the slip of paper safely into his pocket. "Fine, fine. No more overthinking. Just keep it simple."

The team exchanges looks, clearly sceptical but amused, as Chan whistles to get them back on task. "Alright, lovebirds, enough about the romance stuff. Back to drills. Let's go!"

With one last glance toward the bleachers where you'd been sitting, Jisung feels a rush of determination. Saturday can't come soon enough.

The stadium lights blaze down on the field, casting a glow across the crowd and players as Miroh College's football team, the Miroh Maniacs, prepare for the big game.

Jisung stands at the edge of the field, scanning the bleachers with anxious eyes, trying to spot you among the scattered faces. But the stands are filled with students, and it's impossible to find anyone, let alone the person he's been looking forward to seeing all week.

He huffs, scuffing his cleats into the grass, feeling his chest tighten. "She didn't come," he mutters, his voice tinged with disappointment.

Minho, standing beside him in full gear, gives him a sympathetic look and a heavy pat on the back. "Damn, man. That's rough. But hey, maybe she got caught up or something. Doesn't mean she didn't want to come."

Jisung lets out a sigh, folding his arms. "Yeah, maybe. Still feels like shit, though."

As the game begins, Jisung tries to keep his focus on the field, but it's tough when all he can think about is you, not being there. He's distracted, missing cues, and every time he glances at the bleachers, there's a sinking feeling in his stomach. Minho notices, giving him an encouraging nudge whenever he slips up, but Jisung can't shake the nagging disappointment.

By halftime, Jisung's barely even listening as Chan goes over their next moves. He's glancing back toward the stands, wondering if you might magically appear, hoping against hope. And then, as the players start gathering for their pep talk, Jisung sees something that stops him in his tracks.

There you are, sitting at the bottom of the stands, looking around as if you're searching for someone. You're wearing a green long-sleeve shirt that dips into a deep V-neck, showing just a hint of skin, and a pair of baggy, low-rise jeans. The familiar black Converse on your feet, your hair is messily clipped up with that same seashell claw clip. It's unmistakably you.

His heart leaps, and before he knows it, he's jogging over, catching you by surprise as he comes to a stop in front of you.

"Hey," he says, slightly out of breath but grinning. "You okay?"

You look up at him, guilt flickering across your face as you offer a small, apologetic smile. "I'm so sorry, Jisung. I know I'm late. I was finishing up my forensic science paper and, like, totally lost track of time."

He shakes his head, a bit stunned that you actually came. "You didn't have to come if you had a big assignment. Seriously, it's not a big deal."

You smile, and the sincerity in your eyes makes his chest feel lighter. "No, I said I'd be here, so here I am." You gesture toward the field, smirking. "Besides, I wasn't going to miss out on seeing you guys destroy the other team, right?"

Jisung laughs, the weight that had been on his shoulders lifting in an instant. "We're doing our best, but uh got a little distracted in the first half." He rubs the back of his neck, feeling his cheeks warm a bit.

"Well," you say, looking up at him with a reassuring smile, "now I'm here, so no more excuses. You've got a whole second half to make up for it, right?"

The shrill blast of the whistle signals the start of the second half, and Jisung shoots you a quick grin. "Guess I better get back out there. Keep an eye out, alright?"

You nod, laughing. "Oh, I'll be watching. Go kill it."

Jisung jogs back toward his teammates, practically buzzing with energy now. Minho, standing with Hyunjin near the sidelines, spots him and raises an eyebrow. "Finally got that confidence back, huh?"

Hyunjin smirks, crossing his arms. "Alright, man. We're getting you a touchdown. Everyone's in on it."

Minho grabs a bottle of water, shoving it into Jisung's hands. "It's time to wow your '90s dream girl, dude. So hydrate, gear up, and get your ass in the zone."

Jisung takes the bottle, glancing down at it sceptically. "But what if I have to piss? Seriously, I'm not risking that."

Minho rolls his eyes, exasperated. "For god's sake, just drink some water."

Jisung takes a reluctant sip, his face scrunching as he sets the bottle down. "Fine, but if this backfires, you're to blame."

Hyunjin laughs, giving him a shove toward the huddle where the rest of the team waits. "Go kill it, Romeo."

With one last look at you sitting on the bleachers, Jisung heads back to the field, a newfound determination in his eyes. He's ready for the second half, and this time, he's not holding anything back.

The whistle blows to start the second half, and instantly, the team is on high alert. Chan calls the play, and the whole lineup is subtly geared toward making sure Jisung has the perfect setup to score. The guys are practically electric, each one of them more hyped than usual, and it's clear they're all determined to help Jisung pull off his moment.

Jisung lines up, glancing once toward the bleachers where you're watching, leaning forward with your eyes locked on the game. His heart pounds, adrenaline pumping as he gets into position.

Chan snaps the ball, and the play begins. Minho and Hyunjin immediately work to block the defenders, giving Jisung a clear path as he sprints downfield, dodging tackles, his every step fueled by the thought of you watching. He feels every inch of the field beneath his cleats, and it's like everything's in slow motion. He can see the end zone, clear and open, just waiting for him.

"Go, Jisung!" Minho yells, throwing a solid block that opens up the final few yards for him.

With a burst of speed, Jisung dives forward, clutching the ball tightly as he crosses into the end zone. The cheers erupt around him, but the only thing he's focused on is you, standing up in the bleachers, clapping with a wide, proud smile that lights up your entire face and makes Jisung see the world in shades of pink.

Jisung's face breaks into a grin, his chest swelling with pride as he stands up, unable to hide the joy on his face. He can barely hear his teammates around him because all he's seeing is the look on your face, and it's enough to make him feel invincible.

"Hell yeah!" Changbin cheers as he and Minho rush over, pulling Jisung to his feet with matching grins.

"Alright, you've impressed her now," Minho says, slapping him on the back. "But now you've gotta close the deal. We're gonna help you get as many damn touchdowns as possible, but after that? It's on you, bro. You gotta either kiss her or ask her out or whatever you're planning. You get me?"

Jisung nods rapidly, barely able to contain the massive grin on his face. "Yeah, yeah, I got it. I'm doing this!"

Felix and Seungmin clap him on the back, their laughter ringing out as they congratulate him, and Jeongin practically tackles him in excitement.

"That was sick, dude!" Jeongin says, beaming. "Now you just gotta keep this up!"

Chan and Hyunjin jog over, both of them holding out their hands for high fives, which Jisung meets eagerly.

"Keep that adrenaline up," Hyunjin says, smirking. "With this energy, asking her out's gonna be a piece of cake."

"Exactly," Chan says, nodding with a smile. "Now let's help our boy rack up some more scores. If we play this right, he'll be unstoppable tonight."

Jisung clenches his fists, adrenaline flooding his veins as he nods, ready to play his absolute best. The guys all gather around him, their energy infectious as they slap his back, hyping him up before heading back into position. He glances at the bleachers once more, catching your eye as you wave, still beaming with that warm, encouraging smile.

For the rest of the game, the team's strategy is clear: get Jisung every chance to score. Each play is practically engineered to put the ball in his hands, and every time he crosses the line, the crowd roars, sending chills down his spine. And each time, he looks to the bleachers, zeroing in on you. You're standing now, clapping with a bright smile that lights up your face, and to him, it's like the whole stadium fades away.

With every touchdown, his teammates swarm him, cheering, slapping his helmet, yelling about how "the Han touchdown train" can't be stopped tonight. It's like they're all rooting for him not just to win the game, but to win you over.

"Goddamn, you're on fire, Jisung!" Chan shouts, panting as he jogs up beside him after yet another touchdown.

"It's the magic of a girl in the stands," Felix laughs, throwing an arm around Jisung's shoulder. "You better keep this up, man. We've never seen you play this good."

Jisung laughs, breathless, catching his teammates' infectious energy. He glances over to see you clapping again, beaming at him, and for a second, he almost feels like he's floating.

Minho sidles up next to him, catching his breath. "You see her out there, dude? She's cheering just for you. You got this."

Jisung nods, wiping sweat off his brow, feeling a surge of confidence every time he catches your eye. Each touchdown fuels him more, and the team, sensing his determination, rallies around him.

They block defenders with brutal force, ploughing through lines to create space, and hand him the ball again and again, shouting encouragement at every opportunity.

With a little over two minutes left in the game, Chan calls a huddle, his voice rough but steady as he grins at the team. "Alright, let's make this one count. It's our last drive. Get Jisung the fucking ball."

The guys nod, all grins and fierce determination. As they take their positions, Jisung glances once more toward the bleachers. You're watching intently, eyes full of excitement, and it's like an invisible thread pulls him toward the end zone, knowing you'll be there cheering no matter what.

The play unfolds perfectly. Minho and Changbin block two defenders, Felix takes out another, and Jisung darts through the gap, sprinting toward the end zone. The crowd's roar is deafening as he makes the final dive, crossing the line with the ball firmly in his grip.

He stands up, triumphant, the thrill of the touchdown rippling through him, but what really makes his heart race is catching sight of you in the stands, clapping wildly, that same radiant smile on your face. He can barely contain his own grin as he raises a fist in the air, the cheers around him fading into the background as he locks eyes with you.

When his teammates reach him, they're laughing, shouting over each other's voices.

"You're a goddamn beast tonight, Han!" Seungmin yells, clapping him on the back.

Hyunjin smirks, holding up a hand for a high-five. "You'd better ask her out after this, because that was fucking legendary."

As the final whistle blows, signalling their victory, Jisung's teammates surround him, piling on congratulations, laughs, and relentless back pats.

The final whistle blows and the crowd erupts in cheers as the Miroh Maniacs celebrate their victory. The guys are all high-fiving and fist-pumping, adrenaline buzzing through their veins as they revel in the thrill of the win.

Jisung's heart is pounding, both from the game and from the sight of you at the edge of the field, clapping and smiling as you watch the team celebrate.

"Go get your '90s dream girl, Han," Minho says, slapping Jisung on the shoulder. There's a glint of mischief in his eye as he steps back, letting Jisung gather his courage.

Chan, ever the supportive captain, grins and shouts, "You've got this, Ji! Don't choke now!"

"Dude, you've been killing it all night," Hyunjin says, giving him an encouraging nod. "Time to wrap it up with a win off the field, too."

Felix and Jeongin clap him on the back, their voices blending into a jumble of encouragement and good-natured ribbing. Even Seungmin, who usually prefers to stay cool and unbothered, joins in with a smirk. "Don't overthink it, man. Just go."

Jisung takes a deep breath, feeling every bit of adrenaline pushing him forward as he steps toward you. The team's words echo in his mind, and he thinks, Fuck it. It's now or never.

You approach the group, looking radiant, your eyes bright with excitement as you clap for each of them. "Congratulations, you guys! That was seriously amazing!"

Jisung's heart nearly skips a beat as he takes in the sight of you, looking effortlessly beautiful even in the dim stadium lights. He's been imagining this moment all night, and without thinking, he steps forward, closing the distance between you.

And then, with a surge of confidence, he cups your face and kisses you, pouring everything he's been feeling into the moment. His heart's racing, but as soon as your lips meet, he feels that familiar thrill, the world fading out around him.

The team erupts into cheers and whistles behind him, and Jisung can't help but grin against your lips as he hears them hollering.

He pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, still holding you close. Emboldened by the rush, he dips you back, his grin widening as the guys cheer even louder. Minho yells out over the noise, "Strawberries and heaven, my man! Your '90s dream girl right here!"

You laugh, your cheeks pink as you look up at Jisung, slightly dazed. "Wait. What?"

Jisung's face softens, his voice tender as he smiles down at you. "You. You smell like strawberries and heaven. And you're my '90s dream girl." And with that, he leans in and kisses you again, savouring the feeling, the cheers of his friends blending into the background.

When he finally lets go, Minho claps him on the back, looking comically emotional. "I feel so proud, honestly. I coached him through it all, stopped jerking it for him to gush about her. This is basically a win for me, too."

Chan laughs, shaking his head. "Minho, you sacrificed, my guy. I'm proud of you."

Felix raises an eyebrow, his expression teasing. "Seriously, though. I can't believe it took seven wingmen to make this happen."

Jisung rolls his eyes but laughs along, his arm still around you as he finally turns back to face his friends.

You smile up at him, still a little flushed but looking delighted. "So, what's the plan now?"

Jisung's eyes light up, his grin playful. "We're having a post-game party back at the frat house. You should come." He pauses, pretending to think. "I might even make you a cocktail as good as that caramel latte you liked."

"Oh, really?" you tease, raising an eyebrow. "Big talk, Han. Think you're up to it?"

"Pfft, please," Jisung says, flashing you a confident smirk. "Give me a real challenge."

You laugh, glancing back toward the bleachers. "Alright. I'll grab my things while you guys wrap up and shower. Don't keep me waiting."

You head back toward the stands, and as soon as you're out of earshot, Felix leans over, grinning. "Uh, Jisung, dude, you can't make cocktails to save your life."

Jisung's expression falters, but then he looks at Minho, a pleading glint in his eye. "Minho...?"

Minho lets out a long, dramatic sigh. "Fine. I'll make the fucking cocktail. But seriously, you owe me for this one."

Jisung's grin returns. "You're the best, man."

Minho smirks, crossing his arms. "Do you need me to teach you how to fuck her too?"

Jisung snorts, shooting him a playful glare before delivering a swift kick to Minho's ass. "Shut the fuck up, man."

The team laughs, their voices full of pride and joy as they head off the field, congratulating Jisung and slapping him on the back the whole way.

[fuctacles]

Under pressure

For @subeddieweek Day 1 | M | 1177 | accidental subspace, non-verbal communication, sleepover, Steve-instinctive-Dom-Harrington | Ao3 Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7 | Ao3

Eddie avoided fights because he was a coward. A pussy, even, he'll admit. But there was a whole other reason for him avoiding sports.

He wasn't a big fan of physical contact. 

But since he's become better friends with Steve Harrington, he's been discovering things about himself. Things he wished would have stayed hidden. Forever.

The first time, it was a tussle for the remote. Eddie refused to watch another episode of whatever the fuck capitalist media was trying to spoon-feed them, while Steve was adamant there was a plot that he was invested in. One elbow to the gut and some pulled hair later, he landed underneath the guy, his weight pinning him to the ground.

Melting his bones.

Soothing.

"You okay?"

Steve sounded concerned about Eddie's sudden silence, and his mind scrambled to salvage his dignity. All he could manage was a groan, which Steve thankfully interpreted as a sign of pain and not the sudden weakness that it was. 

He instantly hopped off of him, apologizing.

Eddie has been avoiding and yearning for the touch ever since.

He had never considered Steve like that, but apparently being sat on was the biggest turn-on for his poor little dick, and now it was all he could think of at night.

His doom comes when he has to sleep over after a night of drinking. Steve insisted they share a bed, that it was alright, and Eddie foolishly believed him. 

It is fine until Steve rolls over to put away his glasses. 

"Shit, sorry. I just gotta..."

They didn't think this through, because Eddie was the one next to the bedside table, the one Steve was trying to reach. He almost crawls over Eddie to accomplish it, his weight heavy on top of him, pressing him to the mattress and making his mind go blank. 

He bites his lip so hard he probably draws blood, but it doesn't stop the whimper Steve's body literally pushed out of him.  Steve freezes. 

"Are you alright?" He drops the glasses and shoots up. "Did I hurt you?"

Eddie can't answer. His brain is screaming at his mouth, but he can't manage a single word, all he can think of is Steve's body back on him, that weight pressing him down, immobilizing him. He could probably reach pure bliss with just that.

When he doesn't get an answer, Steve pulls on his shoulder to flip him on his back. Eddie whines in protest but doesn't have enough control over his muscles to stop him. His shame gets put on display and Steve's eyes widen.

"Eddie?"

His pupils are huge as he blinks owlishly up at his friend.

"You okay?"

Eddie nods.

"Do you need anything?"

You. On me, against me, in me.

He shakes his head slowly, not breaking eye contact. This seems to frustrate Steve.

"Eddie, come on," he groans. "Clearly something's wrong. Do you need water? I can bring you some." He moves to stand up, but Eddie's in the way. He has to throw his leg over him, and Eddie presses his eyes closed, begging his body not to react.

It's enough to alert Steve, though, and he freezes hovering above him, mid-movement. 

"Huh."

It's a soft sound, barely there, and Eddie decides to keep his eyes closed. Maybe if he does, whatever realization Steve has gets forgotten, and he moves on, brings him the damn water, and maybe throws it on him like on a horny dog. Maybe that would help him.

But no, the ‘huh’ is followed by Steve settling down on his hips.

Oxygen escapes him in a whiny breath, and his body presses up without his control, seeking that delicious weight of another body. 

"Want to make out about it?" Steve asks out of the blue like any normal person would in these circumstances. But Eddie doesn't answer him, he can't, and he doesn't know. He can only stare and writhe under him, making tiny sounds of need he can't comprehend. Steve frowns down on him, partially concerned, partially curious. 

"Don't feel like talking?" he asks. Eddie gives him a nod. He hums. "Can you answer some yes or no questions? Nod for a yes and shake your head for no."

Nod.

"You can blink twice if you don't know or don't want to answer. Okay?"

Nod.

"What do you do if you don't want to answer?"

Eddie blinks twice.

"Good. Great." Steve smiles, and Eddie mirrors it through his haze. "Are you feeling alright?"

Nod.

"Do you need water?"

Shake.

"Do you need the bathroom?"

Shake.

"A snack?"

Shake.

Steve considers him, perched on top of his body. Eddie tentatively reaches up, palms resting on his thighs. Steve's gaze follows his fingers, where they just rest with no ill intent, only there to touch.

"Will we talk about it more in the morning?"

Eddie hesitates. Does he want to talk about it? To bring his shame to the light of day, confess the budding crush on his friend? But Steve doesn't seem angry, he's not kicking him out of the bed. He's being soft and gentle and trying to understand. Maybe in the morning, they could understand it together. Tentatively, he nods.

That eases Steve's frown a bit, but he sighs when another problem hits him.

"I don't know what else to ask," he admits with a huff. 

Eddie wants to help, so he slides his hands up, towards his hips, and tries to convey as best as possible where he wants him. He stares into his eyes, begging him to understand.

"Want me to lay down on you?"

He nods furiously, excited to get what he needs. 

Steve looks down. It's a minuscule movement of his eyes, but it's there. He will know if Eddie's hard when he moves, but he needs the heads-up. The bulge in Eddie's sweats is noticeable but not fully there, to Steve's relief. Having his friend under him in such a pliant state is already overwhelming as it is, and he knows Eddie will feel his own chub when he moves. 

"We're just sleeping tonight, alright?" Steve clarifies and Eddie nods without hesitation. "And cuddle a bit, I guess." Eddie nods again.

He moves, watching his friend’s face for any sign of distress. Eddie’s hands slide around him in an embrace that's more comforting than Steve's ready to admit, and soon they're chest to chest, legs tangled, and he has to crane his neck to maintain eye contact.

"That alright?"

Nod.

Eddie's hands squeeze him minutely and Steve settles down against his shoulder, finally resting his full body weight against him.

The man underneath him sighs, and it's like his whole body deflates. He makes a content sound in the back of his throat, and Steve wants to cry. It's so endearing and so comforting to have Eddie trust him like that. To have him turn into mush in his presence. 

He hopes he's not overstepping when he presses his nose to Eddie's neck, inhaling him and softly caressing his skin when he murmurs a "goodnight, Eds."

[norrisleclercf1]

Day 6 of 25 Days of Christmas: Taking niece/nephew to meet Santa

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x Reader

Words: 784

Rating: PG

Warnings: None, Fluff

"Are you sure you're okay with doing this, Carlos?" His sister stood before him, bouncing his niece, who was pouting that her mother couldn't take her to meet Santa Claus. Of course, we were going shopping anyway, and I think it would be fun; what do you think, pequeña?" Carlos asked, reaching out and pinching her cheek, which made her giggle happily. She then remembered she was supposed to be upset and went back to pouting.

His sister laughs and bounces her one last time before hanging her over, kicking her feet little feet as Carlos chuckles, little Isla clinging to him now. "Byeeee, you will be a good girl for Uncle Los and Aunt Y/n. You understand me," her mother says. Isla waves bye before looking at Carlos with her wide hazel eyes. "Y/n?" She asks softly, and Carlos chuckles and kisses her cheeks. "In the kitchen, go," He says, letting her down, watching as she rushes off and hearing a squeal and your laughter.

"Is that my favorite niece staying here with us today?" you ask as Isla hugs your leg. Carlos comes around the corner and smiles brightly. We're taking her to meet Santa Claus," Carlos explains, and you gasp, looking down. Are you meeting Santa Claus today?" you ask, being so happy you're allowed to do this. Isla nods happily and looks up at you with her big eyes.

"Yes," she squeaks, and you coo softly. You quickly bend down, pick her up, and hold her close. "Y/n, will you meet Santa Claus with me?" She whispers, and you turn and nod your head. "Of course, Uncle Los and I will meet him with you," she giggles and clings to you as you smile. "Hey, why don't you go play while Uncle Los and I talk?" You ask, and Isla nods, her little legs kicking already, as you let her go and watch her run to the living room.

"Why are we taking her to Santa? That is the thing parents should do; isn't it important? I don't know, milestone," You ask, and Carlos bites back a snort. "Y/n, she's four; she's met Santa before, just this year, her mom can't, so she's asked us," You calm down; you and Carlos have only been dating a year or so, but Isla took to you quiet quickly and has consistently called you Aunt Y/n.

"Okay, so we just get a picture with Santa and move on with our holiday shopping?" You ask gently as Isla comes running back with Pinon, following her bouncing as she stops. "Uncle Los, I drew you and Santa; you both wear red suits," She smiles brightly, and Carlos bends down, smiling. "Thank you, baby. Why don't you go draw Y/n a picture as well," Kissing her forehead, Isla nods and runs off, Pinon bouncing after her, making you giggle; that crackhead of a dog loved her and always followed her around.

"So, wanna go meet Santa?" He asks, and you roll your eyes.

"It's Rudolph, Uncle Los, it's Rudolph," Isla tugs on Carlos's shirt, pointing at the reindeer next to Santa Claus. "Yes, I see, wanna feed him a carrot?" He asks, and you smile, holding her little coat. "Aunt Y/n, you help me?" She asks, leaning into your leg, and you look down, smiling. "I'd love to, sugar." You smile, making Isla squeal as you two move closer to the front.

"Would you like a carrot?" The lady asks, smiling brightly as Isla nods her head and gladly accepts the carrot. Isla walks up but stops getting nervous. "Here, baby," you say, leaning down, picking her up and holding her close. "Want me to feed him?" You ask, to which she nods, and you gladly take the carrot, "Bet his nose," You say, and Isla gently reaches her little hand out and giggles when the reindeer licks her tongue.

"Okay, watch," you slowly hand out the carrot as the reindeer accepts it and starts munching on it, making Isla squeal happily and kick her little legs. "Wanna try?" And hand her another carrot that she quickly holds out and watches the animal devour it. "Ready for your picture?" You ask, and she nods her head quickly. As you slowly sit her down, she rushes towards Santa; Carlos immediately pulls his phone out, snapping tons of photos.

"Uncle Los, Aunt Y/n, come," she whines, and you can't help but laugh and move as Carlos hands off his phone, smiling as you two take a photo. "What a cute family," one of the older women whispers, making Carlos smile as he says thank you and scrolls through the pictures.

Yeah, he wouldn't mind having a mini-you around.

[pleasestayawayidonotlikeyou]

The headcanons you wrote for Berry and Rasp were so good! Would you be willing to do some romantic headcanons for the cool skellies? (Cross, fresh, and epic?) I'm so excited to see what other stuff you write and draw!

Oh my thank you traveler! I hope you enjoy the future content on my blog <3

Featuring:Fresh, Epic, Cross.

Masterlist

Fresh

Traveler did you really fall for a parasite?

Looks like you have a very cool datemate broski!

Fresh definitely has trouble showing affection at first, he's never been in a relationship before ya know?

However, he asks his best buddy Dream for advice! He also asked Ink and Error but they didn't have very useful advice

He's not a fancy guy, nah, he's taking you to the skate park or just a random park for a date and doing picnics until the moon appears.

Does not have a house of his own, he's a parasite, he doesn't work silly, so he lives with you on the omega timeline.

He tries to help around the house, he swears the microwave exploded on its own though!

I headcannon most Sanses as tall, and Fresh's probably the tallest (if we're not counting with Ted) , it's pretty common how much he picks you up just because he wants to.

Sometimes he says he's "going to work" and comes back hours later, turns out his "job" is annoying the living shit out of Error.

If you ever want to learn skate boarding he'll gladly teach you with a smile stuck on his face during the process.

Epic

Oh my, dating the King of memes are we traveler?

He's one of the best skeletons to date on the multiverse, lives in the omega timeline, is funny, treats you like you're the most important person who ever existed for him, now that I think about it you're kinda lucky traveler.

Talking about memes, he lags your phone with how much he sends you, Epic does not have pity on your poor phone.

He's the type of guy who the moment you ask for attention, he's cuddling you in the couch while a movie's playing on the TV.

Epic surprisingly knows more about the multiverse than how to cook. He managed to burn pasta. PASTA.

Grabs random cats from the street and adopts them, y'all have like 6 cats now, and one is named oi oi oi... Please stop your man traveler...

Makes you laugh on every opportunity he gets, especially when you're feeling down.

Takes you out to outertale pretty regularly, and every time he points at the brightest star he sees and says "Look at it darling! It's ya!"

Cross

Sometimes Killer teases you asking if you got yourself a boyfriend or a dog.

This is because Cross kinda acts like a guard dog, he's big and he can be scary when he wants to, plus, he works with Nightmare! What if someone tries to take you hostage? He can't let that happen can he?

I am aware that in canon Cross isn't part of the bad Sanses and all, but in this version he works with Nightmare destroying and terrorizing worlds to reconstruct his own.

You're definitely not living in the omega timeline, you're living on his unfinished AU instead!

He's used to waking up early, 6 am maximum, so when he sees your cute sleeping face laying next to him, he just can't let himself get up without filling your face with kisses.

Chara teases him for being such a softie around you.

Cross loves sleepy cuddles in the morning, especially when you're burying your head on his chest while murmuring for him to get back to sleep.

When he gets back from a long mission he usually brings you small gifts he thinks you'd like.

[moremaybank]

jj obnoxiously moaning whenever his girl touches him anywhere

mostly fluffy but there is a smidge of smut

(sfw)

If there were ever some tragically down bad for his girl, and I mean tragically, it would be JJ Maybank.

The man actually purrs whenever you touch him. running your hands through his hair, lightly scratching his scalp with your nails. Caressing his cheek with your thumb soothingly and watching him close his eyes. Gliding your hand down his chest mindlessly when you're kissing him or simply just talking to him. The sounds that emit from his lips are pornographic even when the touches are innocent.

He'll come home from a long day, finding you in bed all cozy in the covers. You smell so good, the remnants of your shower gel and lotion leaving sweet hints on your skin.

"Hi, baby," you greet, your eyes moving onto his slouched and exhausted-looking frame.

"Mmph," he muffles as he slumps onto your body. His arms wrap around your waist as he smushes his head between your pillowy tits and snuggles into you.

"Long day?" you question, though you already know the answer. Your hands run up his clothed back into his hair, and you gently tug on the strands. He lets out a content sigh when you start to scratch his scalp lightly, trying to soothe him. Bonus points if you rake your nails down his back; one would think you're giving him the sloppiest head of his life due to the sounds emitting from his mouth.

Every time you kiss him, he moans into it, loving the feeling of your silky lips brushing against his. He can't help but slip his tongue into your mouth, craving the taste of you more than anything he's ever wanted for. When you pull away, he whines, instantly chasing your lips for another kiss with his big puppy-dog eyes. You can't help but give him one more because the needy look on his face is just too adorable to deny.

It doesn't matter if you're alone either. He isn't shy.

For instance, you're in the twinkie with the pogues, and everyone's minding their own business engaging in conversation. JJ's in his own world, scrolling on his phone. You smile, leaning over and rubbing his back. You press a kiss on his shoulder, and with the snap of your finger, he's melting into you. He makes a scene of it, too.

"Mmm, baby, you feel so good," he mewls while throwing his head back, melting into your touch. The group just groans and rolls their eyes, and JJ revels in it with a smirk on his face.

(nsfw)

It's so easy to turn him into a needy mess because the switch in him instantly comes alive at your touch. He loves being the one in control, but whenever the roles are reversed, he's begging for you to touch him.

Even something as small as your hand trailing up his thigh causes butterflies to erupt in his stomach. He feels your fingertips creeping closer and closer, and before he knows it, they're grazing against his covered and already-hard cock. His breath hitches when you palm him over his shorts, and he bucks his hips into you, craving more friction. He moans into your mouth and mumbles a desperate "stop teasing, baby," against your lips. He's already a goner, and he's still fully clothed.

Your hand draws his cock out from his shorts, and you stroke him torturously slow. Watching him squirm beneath your touch as his hips jut and thrust into your fist while he begs you to let him cum sends a thrill through you.

One thing's for sure; knowing that JJ loves you and your comforting, teasing touch more than anything in the world never gets old. And you love him and his just the same.

this is so long i'm so sorry

concepts

[r0-boat]

Belial headcannons

I'm in love with him.

Sfw&Nsfw

Sfw

He's a believer that actions speak louder than words. He wrap his arms around you kiss your neck and Write "I love you"on your back.

Belial has a sweet tooth. he canonically likes gummy bears. He asks you to hold out your hand and he puts a taffy on your palm. If you tell him what your favorite candy is he'll have a whole supply of it for when you visit. He has a glass bowl filled with Skittles in his office, which he always replaces after Satan visits.

He is a romantic; like I said before, his love language is actions; he wants to take you out to dinner, where he pushes the chair open for you. And wrap his arm around you and hold you close.

He starts learning ASL from you, but he doesn't use it unless you're around. It's like your secret language :).

You can't talk to him about anything and he will gladly listen, if you ever ask him that if you're bothering him with all this useless information he will just kisses your lips, smiles, gently open your palm writes. "No, I like hearing your voice; I could never get sick of hearing you."

Has really good drawing skills, like really good... Like has a spiral notebook filled with sketches good. He tells you that it's filled with things he finds cute, You look through it together; cats, dogs, Jjyu. His smile only widens when You notice that 1/3 of the sketchbook is drawings dedicated to you.

The Big spoon, This man is tall too. 6 ft He will engulf you with his arms.

His nickname for you is cutie.

He doesn't like when Jjyu is rude to you :(, So he tries to hang out with you (as well as privacy) without him. But it always makes Jjyu very sad so it's a double-edged sword.

Nsfw below

Due to the unfortunate English that this game has when they talk about his kink I think they mean he likes to hear you moan, whimper and gasp underneath you. The cute little noises you make on his cock just does him in.

Cheeky devil, due to his polite and chivalrous nature, You do a double take when he pats his lap just during you to sit down, especially when you see that he has visibly hard.

Belial would probably really like cock warming. Especially when he can hear you whimpering and frustration when he tries to get his paperwork done as your speared on his cock.

Loves to overstimulate you He is addicted to your high-pitched little squeals, your shaky breath and your whippers begging him to stop.

Bullying his cock, pitting that spot that makes you see stars inside you kissing and sucking your nipples All the while playing with you with his fingers, after coming for the fifth time he lifts his head up to see your quivering lip, Your eyes filled the tears, You would burrow out his name grasping at your shoulders. That sight along with the way his name rolled off your tongue broke him. He felt his orgasm hit him like a bus. His mind playing the words 'So Cute.' over and over as his shaking finger tries to write it over and over.

He walked in on Paimon dressing you and nothing but a frilly apron, cat ears and a tail. He shut that door so fast, his cheeks and ears bright red. His breaths heavy and his hand shakes as he puts it up to his face trying to cover his redning face. any longer he would have died of cuteness..F-fuck is his nose bleeding too?! The only one who figured out his weakness was Paimon and having never seen the normally calm and collected Belial reacted that way. Their evil cackling is starting to scare you.

[chvnnie]

on the topic of dad!skz. dad!minho picking out a itty bitty kitty halloween costume for his baby girl with the softest little cat ears, a floofy tail and he finds a little makeup pen that he researches and researches to make sure it's okay to put on her skin because he wants to draw whiskers on her but not if it's going to hurt her!!!! and he walks home with the biggest smile on his face and gets home so excited to show you what he bought - only to see you putting your daughter into a puppy costume you bought earlier that day.

the days leading up to halloween are spent with bickering over which costume she should be in (minho almost foaming at the mouth because cats are his thing how can his daughter n o t be in a cat costume) and on the day she ends up in???? (this is where you come in bc i really can't think of denying minho anything)

Seungmin is behind this. Somehow, Minho hasn’t really figured it out yet. He just knows it’s his fault because who else could have convinced you of this?

“Ha-ha. Very funny.” He says with the most humorless expression on his face. “Where he is?”

You furrow your brows. “Who?”

“Ah, come on. What other puppy do we know?” Minho gestures at his daughter on the ground, ironically chasing her fake tail.

It clicks, and you can’t help but laugh. “Minho, you’re joking.”

Blank face. He’s not even joking a little bit. Sighing, you stand up from the couch, walking right past him towards the kitchen.

“Think what you want, Minho, but I do have the ability to make my own decisions.”

When you get into bed that night, you don’t face him. Rolling over to stare out the window instead.

He really didn’t think that you’d be this mad about it. More than anything, Minho thought it was a silly joke. Like ha ha ha, Seungmin weaseled his way into dressing his daughter as a dog. Did he do that with Jisung’s daughter, too? Changbin’s boys? It’s so in character that it was easy to just believe it.

But he can tell with how you’ve acted with him since he got home — only really talking to your daughter, insisting on doing bath and bed by yourself — it was a stupid thought that he shouldn’t have ran with.

“Hey.” He rolls on his side towards you, a hand on your shoulder. “Come on, talk to me.”

“I’m tired, Minho.” It’s a lie — the bed is shaking with how jittery your legs are.

“I’m not going to drop it.” Minho says plainly. “You know that.”

With a sigh, you sit up, knees to your chest. Not really looking at him and instead fiddling with your sweatshirt. “Fine. It made me mad that you reacted like that to her costume.”

Minho smiles sadly, reaching for your hand. If you keep playing with that thread, you’ll ruin that shirt, and he knows it’s your favorite thing to sleep in as the weather turns. Though reluctant, you let him take your hand. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have treated it like a joke—“

“She looked really cute and I thought you would really like it.” There’s a cry catching in your throat, one that you’re desperately trying to swallow down. Minho’s heart shatters when he hears how much it upset you.

Bringing your hand to his lips, he slowly presses his lips to your palm. Peppering them around the hand; the tops, the wrist, over your wedding ring. “She did look very cute.”

“She always looks cute.”

The way you say it, with such a pout, makes Minho giggle a little. He shuffles in the bed, lying his head on your knees to get a better look at you. “It’s because she looks like you.”

Ah, there you go. The corners of your lips peeking up before you remember why you’re so upset. “Stop with that cheesy bullshit—“

“It’s true! If she looked like me…sheesh.”

You move too quick for him to catch, grabbing the pillow you’re propped up on and hitting him with it. Minho tries to pull it from your hands, ready for revenge, but you won’t give.

“Say that again and I’ll hit you HARDER next time.”

“Oooooh, so scary. So big and tough with your pillow, huh?”

Minho gives up on trying to take your pillow.

And grabs one of his own.

///

It’s your turn to walk into a surprise. Less than a week left until Halloween, and there’s your daughter. Sitting in the high chair as her father, your husband, delicately traces lines from her nose.

“What is this?”

While Minho is still, it makes Jisung jump. The baby in his lap crying from the sudden movement. “Sheesh, knock next time.”

Your brows raise. “It’s my? Home? What’s going on here?”

Jisung looks from you to Minho, spinning the baby is his lap around so you can see. A pretty little heart painted on the tip of her nose, teeny whiskers across her face. The costume she’s wearing identical to the one your daughter has on, only a few sizes smaller.

“Doesn’t she look so CUTE?” Jisung is so giddy, cooing as he bounces the baby on his knee. “We wanted her to be a pumpkin, but then Minho came over and said he got her something—“

“We haven’t decided on a costume.” You say sternly, looking at your husband.

“Yet.” Minho’s eyes flick up to you. “You haven’t seen her as a cat yet.”

You huff, crossing your arms. “Nothing is going to steer me away from—“

Your heart leaps from your body. Never have you seen something so precious, so tiny. Her nose is pink, the whiskers twisting out to just about her mid cheek. Her eyes light up when she sees you, babbling on and on as she reaches out for you.

“Oh, look at you.” You coo, quickly gathering her in your arms. She giggles, snuggling into your shoulder. Her little headband brushes softly against your neck. Oh, you could cry.

Minho looks a little too smug for your liking. “So what were you saying about not steering you—“

“Shut up.”

///

“You really liked the cat costume—“

“But, Min, the dog—“

“She just looks so cute as a cat. Come on, baby, you have to see it.”

“And she doesn’t look cute as a dog?”

“Of course she does! I’m just saying—“

Jisung is in his office, windows shut, and he can still hear the two of your bickering from the other side of the fence. There’s no hard feelings there, just the two of you are too stubborn to give up. Cat, dog. Dog, cat. Over and over and over—

Sighing, he pushes himself up from his computer chair. Grabbing the car keys from his bag and leaving with a quick goodbye kiss to his partner and daughter. Just a teeny little errand.

You answer the door, Minho meowing obnoxiously somewhere inside the house. “Hey, Jisung—“

“It’s my turn to pick.” He forces a plastic bag in your hand before turning around and leaving. Even after you call after him, your voice fading as he walks the short distance back to your house.

You open the bag, the costume still perfectly in its wrapper. Soft, tan fur decorates the onesie. A hood to cover her teeny little head and keep her warm.

You throw it to the side. A lion, really? What a silly choice, so basic. It’s her first halloween, you’re not going to waste it on something like this.

///

She went as a lion.

hehehehehe

[empthy1]

Sydney Adamu - Blessed

for @wandaszn, who asked for some bottom!syd x reader :D warnings: soft smut, a lot of yapping, I've never seen the bear or been to Chicago so apologies for any inconsistencies in character or setting. also Cleo Sol reference b/c I was listening to her while writing this anyways first fic yippee!!

Small blessings.

That's what Sydney had.

A shitty apartment- but hey. The rent's low, and it has a small kitchen. She can't have a cat- her landlord would crucify her- but she wouldn't have time to take care of one anyway, with how much she works.

She has to take a bus that smells to work everyday it rains. Which is often. But it's only one stop and takes ten minutes, tops. She can deal with the woman with the yappy dog at seven in the morning, and the guy who always smelled like weed.

She found happiness in small things. Perfecting a recipe. A good day at the restaurant. Walking through the park on her one day off a month, getting pastries from a shop only a block from her apartment.

The big things came after she met you.

Now, she gets to come home after a long day to a bigger apartment, one that's less shitty. This one permits pets, allowing her to feel the brush of a orange, furred mass between her stepping feet as she crosses the threshold.

She can smell the takeout you'd gotten, the one night a week she's permitted you to (if she can cook for you, she sees no reason why you have to pay for someone to make it. She's totally not jealous). There's probably a plate set up, already in the microwave for her to heat.

She's not interested in that.

Her coat and bag are soon hanging from one of the racks on the wall, her boots discarded as well. She's already pulling off her sweater as she approaches your curled up form on the couch, your head already peeking out from the blankets. She can hear the soft voice of Cleo Sol in the air, the vinyl spinning happily with no potential noise complaint to worry about. Good neighbors are another unexpected godsend.

"Hey, Syd." Comes your soft, sleepy greeting. You're sitting up, the fabric slipping off of your form like water. Despite the cold temperatures outside, you're still warm as she sinks into you.

"Hi." She really, really doesn't feel like talking. It'd been a stressful day, the rush taking it out of the kitchen more than usual- especially with Carmy's ever-increasing perfectionism. Your coos in her ear are a welcome distraction, the kisses pressed to her neck a balm to her very soul.

Her hand wraps around the back of your neck, drawing your mouth to hers. She's ever so pliant after stressful days; she follows your lead easily as you lay her down on the soft cushions of the sofa you found (another blessing). The kiss you share is lazy, your warm hands softly snaking under her cotton bra to palm at her.

She can't focus on anything other than your hands, her lips stalling under yours- only opening to let soft, pleased sounds escape. It allows your mouth to focus on her neck, to drag down a beautiful throat, gleaming in the low lamplight.

She doesn't protest as you unclip her bra. A sigh of relief escapes her, the almost painful underwire that'd plagued her for hours no longer a problem. Another sigh, this one more a moan, sounds when your mouth meets the skin of her chest and envelops a peaked bud.

You linger there for a minute, pressing gentle kisses to every inch of skin you can. It makes the heat in her gut grow, like a bear rousing from hibernation- ever present, but dormant. Her strong hands meet your shoulders, her one callused finger rough. She's pushing you down towards the curling warmth.

Her hips lift as your hands meet the waistband of her jeans. The button slipping free makes her jolt impatiently. The slow drag of the zipper forces a whine free from her tensed throat. She's kicking the denim off before it even reaches her ankles, drawing a laugh from your throat. She almost kicked you in her neediness.

With the show you made of her pants, she's relieved when her damp panties soon follow. The sound torn from her chest when your mouth meets her is nothing short of guttural. Your tongue is warm as it sweeps through her folds, gently exploring the flesh you're so familiar with as if it's the first time. Little whines escape her, soft noises of pleasure filling the open living-room, joining the sweet mix of instruments and voice.

She almost sobs when you lap at her clit, her hands fumbling for something to grab- soon finding your roaming fingers, interlacing with them and resting, joined, on her heaving chest.

Her climax isn't something unexpected, doesn't creep up on her; it's a soft, slow build, the feeling of your tongue on her soaked flesh and your fingers in hers getting more and more intense with every passing minute. When your tongue moves, slipping down and in, her hips raise with a groan, fingers squeezing yours as she gushes on your tongue.

Her mind is gone to the heavens, even after you withdraw. When you curl next to her, throwing one of the many blankets over the both of you. Her lips lazily meet yours as she wraps her bare arms around you. Her expert tongue, refined from hours of study in the kitchen, tastes your mouth. The mix of sour her and sweet you may be the most exquisite thing she's every had.

Despite her nakedness, and the chill seeping in from outside, she drifts off, warmer than she's ever been, feeling so blessed to have your soft, solid form against hers and a lazy cat at your feet.

The music plays on. The snow still falls. However, nothing breaks the bubble, the home you've made with each other.

[jewish-vents]

I lost my best friend of 25 years over this conflict. She was being purposely cagey about it because she didn't want to lose me, and knew she would. On the 7th itself when I turned to my best friend to help me through my grief and terror she just said "I'm not the right person to discuss this with. I'm getting on a plane. Can't talk. Bye."

And she left me to burn

I probably should have known it then. She told me she didn't want to talk about it because I might think she's antisemitic, as that's the pressing thing when the world just declared it's intent to hunt and kill me in horrible ways.

"I can't relate but I support you, but please don't talk about it with me."

How is that support?

And how could I talk about anything else?

And then she changes the subject to someone saying something minor to her at work which set her into a crying fit, because she makes it a priority to tell me she bursts into tears 4 times a day every day so I can't ever have too strong of a negative emotion or it will set her off.

And then she told me she loves me but she can't say she likes Jews because "I haven't met all the other Jews." As though she'd ever say that to a Black friend about their entire people. She is the Most Progressive, you see, she is Very Aware Of Her White Privilege and stuff. She works with immigrants and would sooner jump off a bridge than give off a whiff of bigotry towards them.

But I'm a Jew.

She finally tells me she doesn't support Israeli striking back because there's children being hit. She hasn't seen any evidence to justify Israel's response. I ask to show her some. She refuses. You see she gets to have her uninformed opinion, gets the luxury of staying that way, she can just change the subject, I'm The Jew, that's my Jewish business.

My pain has always been her concern but not when it's Jew-related. I'm to hide that lest she burst into tears.

I gradually stop talking to her. She sends me anxious messages saying "I'm not sure if I can even ask how you are or if that's any of my business"

This from the woman who purposely made it not her business, DEMANDED it not be her business, and now she sniffing around like a hungry dog after telling me to just ignore it, that it's just online, that I should **uwu** watch my cortisol **uwu**

You need cortisol, I say, when you're being hunted. Sometimes cortisol is called for. She starts crying. How could I say that. She can't talk about this. It's too much for her. My cortisol is just too much for her. So now I have to shut up, because she's crying.

No one hunting her but she's crying

It felt like she was just hoping to wait around, have her private antisemitism, like she could hide her eyes from me, like I couldn't read her judging silence and her quiet insistence that though she admittedly knew nothing she certainly knew better than ME what was right. And if we get close, boom. Tears.

I felt so talked down to and invalidated. When I brought this up she said "I validate you" like that's a magic spell, you can just say the magic words AND that will cure neglect.

I finally blew up at her and of course there was big manipulative tears because how DARE I think she might have bigotry and how DARE I draw away from her after she made it clear she had no interest in my pain, after she tried so so so hard to hide it and used all the gentle parenting language she learned in her DEI courses to placate me, the Hysterical Jew.

I will always hate myself for apologizing to her for being angry, for my big violent emotions she would have preferred to ignore until I get over my weird Jewish thing, so I can get back to being the person she can subtly look down on and be holier than, and so she can cry to me, and cry, and cry, and cry, because someone gave her a minor correction at work and not because she's being hunted for being a Jew.

We should be able to disagree about politics, she says. We can't disagree about my existence and basic safety, I say. You don't deserve to be bathed in hate, get offline, she says.

They vandalized my synagogue. They attacked my friend's daughter on campus. That's awful, she says. I don't support that. Anyway, at work today -

We don't talk anymore. Haven't for months. Don't know if we ever will again. I've been angry at her every day. I feel like I let her get away with it. She gets to go out into the world feeling like she's right and Israel is evil and she used to have a Jewish friend who turned out to be craaaazy, it's terrible what Zionism does to those people. I'm sure she'll get clout at her super leftist workplace where she can never be progressive enough. Where she helps put DEI policies in schools and libraries that treat antisemitism as though it's a non-problem.

I'm just another oppressor-class Jew to her. Couldn't center her over my Jew Issues

I'm so angry at her and so angry at myself for not handling it better, for holding back, for indulging her crocodile tears and handling her with kid gloves, for not calling her out for manipulating me into muting my truth and thinking I'm so dumb that she could just refuse to address it, like I wouldn't know, for expecting me to just "get over" my people being slaughtered, for needing her and then sticking around long after she left me to die

.

[thechy-fychannel]

I have finally decided to shamelessly (I feel nothing but shame at any attention at all) promote my hilson fics on here 💕

Organized from shortest to longest:

it's gone to the dogs in my mind (1.5k)(T+)

"He gets more visitors in his subconscious as he's coming off the vicodin than he did when he was on it. Every night, a different visitor in between the excruciating hours of consciousness." A glimpse into a series of dreams that House has as he's detoxing after he first gets to Mayfield.

let me be the wallpaper that papers up your room (2.9k)(E)

“I'll meet you at your place at 8.” He knew when he said it that he wasn't just coming over for dinner. Takes place at the end of Season 8, Episode 2 after Wilson punches House in the face.

and I long for this mirrored perspective (3.3k) (GA)

"Because something about him beckons to you, drawing you in. Morons are boring, you're repelled by morons. You're the opposite of repelled by the warm shades of brown and a cold type of ache coming from this handsome stranger." House spots Wilson for the first time at a conference in New Orleans and stalks him like the creep he is.

caught you hiding in the smoke (3.3k)(E)

“Look at me, House.” His pretty blue eyes opened and looked up at her with the kind of intensity that she could only describe as devotion. Like she was something holy. “Good. Look at you, barely holding on. If only he could see you like this…”

House is distracted while making out with Cuddy. The reason why isn't at all surprising, but Cuddy's reaction to it is.

dot line dot (4.2k)(E)

Wilson apologized for not being there. House told him not to be, he's with his wife. That's where he's supposed to be. And yet Wilson wanted him. And House was going to make him prove that. He was going to force him to wreck his own marriage rather than have the decency to do it for him. The bastard. House uses his oral fixation to his advantage when he refuses to initiate an affair with Wilson after he marries Bonnie. Wilson wants to have his cake and eat it too and House is a petty bitch about it.

on my way to believing (6k)(E)

“I like what this says about you, Wilson.” Wilson knows what this says about him— that the only piece of furniture that he could pick out himself was something House alone would use. He knows it says that the only thing inside him that matters is the man sitting on that bench.

get in line for the masquerade (7.1k)(M)

5 times people find out about House and Wilson's secret relationship and the 1 time they decide to stop keeping it a secret.

my tongue has now become a platform for your lies (12k)(E)

5 times Wilson cheats with House, + the 1 time they get caught.

love is the coal (19.5k)(E)

"House, I can't just up and leave-” “Yes, you can. I already talked to Cuddy about it.” “You already—” Wilson blanched, “House, I told you not to say anything to her about what's going on. Great, this is just great. Now my boss knows that I'm-” “That you're going through a hard time right now. That you're stressed and overworked and burnt out. She was the one who suggested we go on a vacation. It really wasn't even a suggestion, she practically demanded that I whisk you away to tropical paradise somewhere and fuck you until your legs stop working.” Wilson is struggling, House would do anything in the world to help him, and Cuddy is a wonderful boss. House and Wilson take a much needed vacation and spend the entire thing on top of each other.

puppies, tiramisu, and other things james wilson loves (20.9k)(E)

He looked over at Wilson, about to lament to him about the lack of creativity at this animal shelter when he was met with a big toothy grin. “What?” Wilson shook his head, but his smile grew to the point of being painful. “Nothing. I just- I didn't expect you to be a small dog kind of guy.” “I'm—” House looked back at the dog and then at Wilson. “I'm not. I was just giving it some attention.” “I think you're giving it a home, House.” A fic about them adopting a dog that House ends up falling in love with. And then he does something stupid and they have kinky sex about it.

[sabi0229]

DARIUS HEAD CANNONS PART 2:

He sleep talks and sleep walks

Once he sleep walked into Kenji's room and Kenji not knowing what to do got Brand and by the time they got back Darius took Kenji's mattress ( trust me when I say he would do this if he was awake too) so guess who slept on the floor that night.

Yas teaches him to draw

Him and Sammy had their own YouTube channel for a while and they would giggle non stop

If Kenji or Ben is not around Darius will just follow Yas like a duckling and stick to her side until it's night

Darius is sometimes found sleeping with Yas or Ben mostly during stormy nights on Nublar (not Kenji because he snores)

Only chews gum when he has a nervous breakdown

Doesn't like gum that much that why he's only has some for a certain reason

When he gets a snow cone he'll put whip cream on it

On a hear me out cake he put down a dinosaur just to bug everyone on purpose ( he wouldn't actually want a dino guys....or would he?....Nah)

fave soda is cola, more specifically Cherry cola

Takes Ben's lollipops

in chaos theory he becomes allergic to strawberries

Will never eat lettuce for a year after their boat trip to Africa

Slaps ben and Kenji on the back of the head whenever they do something stupid

has lots of scars on his back because he hit many trees and was dragged around a lot and I mean a lot

Our baby is bisexual ( you can't prove me wrong guys he has that look)

Favorite holiday Halloween and Christmas

Least favorite Christmas thing to do is the shopping cuz he has no idea what to get anyone

Least favorite soda is ginger ale he's not a big fan of Ginger at all

Least favorite color is gray brown and gray

during high School people kept coming up to him asking questions about Nublar and that's when he decided he wanted to drop at immediately but his mom wouldn't let him

Does not like doing homework

Does not play as many games anymore when he got back from Nublar

Watches Arcane

Him and Sammy would make slime

Still had nightmares after Nublar

In CT he doesn't get nightmares anymore instead he sometimes hallucinates

Drank underaged a few times ( .....in CT not while he was 13 he's too smart for that)

After Brooklyn's death he doesn't eat a lot anymore also hallucinated Brooklyn

Loves blue raspberry ( I want some now crap)

Listens to Britney Spears and Ayesha Erotica

Has a dog while Kenji got a cat and not to anyone's surprise their pets fight exactly like them ( great parental example guys)

Loves warm and fluffy Blankets but doesn't like to sleep with them because he gets too warm.

When he first saw the dino from the last ep in season 5 of cc he definitely went to tell his family and they all went outside to see and kenji just got daja vu

Bookworm

Has a garden full of his favorite flowers

Can actually cook amazing burgers and that's the only thing he makes edible

Can write with both hands

Hates loud noises. It triggers him :(

Has social anxiety

Can ride a motorcycle ( we all know who taught him)

Visited Brandon and his mom every 2 months before the accident

Sometimes when he hallucinates it's gets super bad that he'll accidentally destroy stuff

Gets into fights

has anger issues

Had a TikTok addiction

Loves the beach

[cowgurrrl]

Sam

Author’s note: Inspired by @pomegranatevampire’s amazing drawing of Ellie and a puppy and written with permission from the original artist 🩷 dedicated to my childhood dogs who passed away a year ago next month whose love and dedication taught me more about life than anything else (PS please listen to Sam by Strugill Simpson I LOVE IT)

Summary: "he heard them as they walked past say 'too big, too old, too damaged'. so still he waited, patiently, for someone to accept the things he could not change. for someone to stop and say 'i choose you.'" - zeppelin moon aka Joel and Ellie adopt a dog [1.2k]

Warnings: talk of nightmares, PTSD, brief mention of addiction recovery, puppy fluff :-)

"No. Absolutely not." Joel says within a millisecond of seeing Ellie with the mutt at the back door. It's not a particularly big dog. He's small enough for Ellie to hold him but big enough that she has to use both arms and balance him on a hip to keep him steady. Even then, it wouldn't matter how big or small it is because he's perfectly content in the girl's arms. 

"I didn't even say anything!" She whines, and Joel shakes his head.

"Don't matter. The answer's still no."

"Look at his little face! You can't say no to that face!" Ellie says, grabbing the dog's nose and turning his face toward Joel in a show of big, sad eyes from both of them. The dog, which Joel now realizes is more a puppy than anything else, is surprisingly calm when Ellie grabs him. No growling or biting. He didn't even flinch. It's impressive that such a feral thing wouldn't react negatively to her.  

There isn't an abundance of dogs in Jackson. Most of them are used for work, joining on patrols, and whatnot, but every so often, some dogs fail out of the training. Sometimes, they're adopted by families in Jackson, and other times, they're left to their own devices to roam the town. Everyone does their part to take care of them by giving them food and belly rubs when they want them, but for the most part, they keep to themselves. This heap of brown, black, grey, and white fur, however, is practically melting at any form of attention he can get. Even Joel's hardened glare. 

"Please, Joel, let me stay," Ellie says in a goofy voice, moving the dog's head like he's the one who's talking, and Joel rolls his eyes. Goddammit. If he loved this girl less, he would be able to stand his ground and force the canine back out to the porch. But he can't, and he doesn't.

"One night. He can stay for one night, but then he's gotta go back out." He relents, and Ellie looks like she could explode with glee. She puts the dog down and opens the back door, letting the puppy rush over to Joel in a tidal wave of excited squeals and slobber. If he thought Ellie was excited, it was nothing compared to the animal half in his lap and licking his face. 

"Laika! Get off Joel, you psycho!" Ellie shouts before physically picking up the dog and putting him back on the floor. 

"You already named him?" Joel asks, and Ellie smiles sheepishly. "What kinda name is Laika anyway?"

"Laika was the first animal in space. She was a mutt they found on the streets of Russia and thought she'd be a good fit." 

"Why?"

"They thought because she was a stray, she could withstand space conditions. I don't know how true it was, though, 'cause they never brought her back." 

"So, you named him after a dead Russian dog stuck in space forever?"

"No, I named him after one of the greatest heroes to ever live. Get it together, old man." Ellie says matter-of-factly before snapping her fingers and running up the stairs with Laika on her heels. 

That night, Ellie feeds, walks, and makes a makeshift bed for Laika on her floor out of blankets and a pillow from the downstairs couch. Laika is quiet as he adjusts to going from living outside full time to being waited on hand and foot by Ellie, but he greets her with tail wags and affectionate licks when she gets close enough. When Joel peeks his head into her room after she's fallen asleep, he sees that Laika has forgone the homemade bed and has instead crawled into bed with Ellie. He's sitting at the edge of it, staring at the door, when Joel comes in, and he swore he heard the dog growling before he realized it was Joel. Not that he wants the dog to be violent or reactive, but it's good to know that he's protective over his little girl. Laika: Once an explorer of space (and Jackson), now a protector of Ellie. 

Of course, Laika ends up staying for longer than just one night. Joel and Ellie take him to the vet in town to make sure he's healthy and has everything he needs. After a few shots, Laika is given a perfect bill of health and sent on his way. They go to the store together and buy a food bowl, a bed, and a rope that Joel ties to make a tug-of-war toy for him. He may not have wanted the dog at first, but he still deserves some toys, right?

It isn't until winter that Joel realizes just how important Laika is to Ellie. Winter is hard for both of them. Memories of that first winter spent together haunt their days and nights and make it hard to breathe, let alone sleep. One night, Ellie wakes up crying so loud that Joel hears from down the hallway, and he quickly rushes to her aid. However, when he gets there, he sees Laika tucked under Ellie's chin, putting a comforting weight in her lap and distracting her from the panic seizing her by the shoulders. Joel tip toes in, not wanting to disturb the peace, and Ellie catches sight of him.

"You alright, kiddo?" He asks, and she nods.

"Laika helped." She says simply. He smiles and sits with them until she's soothed enough to go back to sleep. Even in sleep, Laika stays nearby, snuggling into her chest and sighing contentedly every once in a while. That image of them cuddling in bed seals the deal for Joel. He'll give Laika the best life possible if it means he makes Ellie happy. 

Joel gradually warms up to the dog as he grows into his too-big paws and personality. He feeds him scraps of food from the dinner table and finds quality sticks from the yard to throw him during their sunset backyard time together as a family. On late-night patrols, Laika is the first one to greet him with excited sniffs and licks. Laika is also shockingly good at reading Joel's emotions too. When the weight of grief gets too much, or he feels himself teetering between sobriety and relapse, Laika will nudge his leg with his nose and distract him from distressing thoughts. Joel learns to enjoy Laika's company and vice versa. 

If Joel is downstairs playing guitar or woodworking while Ellie's asleep, Laika will walk down there and sit at his feet just so he has some company. Joel often rewards him with ear scratches and a kind word or two. "You're a good dog, ain't ya?" He'll ask, and Laika will perk up as if to say, "Who? Me?" "I know Ellie tells ya that all the time, but I thought you oughta know I think you're pretty cool, too." Laika's tail always thumps against the floor when Joel talks to him like that, and Joel always gets a weird sense of pride in his chest, knowing he made the dog happy. "Yeah. You're a good boy." Then, after a quick kiss to the head and a belly rub, he'll nudge Laika with his foot. "Now go on and get your girl." With that, Laika walks back up the stairs and takes his sentinel position at the foot of Ellie's bed. 

And only once he knows that both of his humans are happy and safe will Laika lay down his soft head and dream secret dreams of smiling faces and sticks thrown through a green field. 

[greghatecrimes]

Halloween prompt: House takes baby!Thirteen out trick or treating for the first time

hehe, I love this prompt! ty Jet for submitting it <3

House isn't much of a holiday person. But even he can't deny that Halloween is objectively the best holiday of them all, especially now that he has a kid (and a cute kid at that). Free candy to mooch from just from walking around the block? Sign him up.

Thirteen is dressed in the costume she insisted upon: a huge, round jack-o-lantern, with some adjustments made to make the face properly scary looking. (which Bee/oddlittlestories did a drawing of!!) she's pretty chatty for her age, and House has spent the past few days drilling her on how to say "trick or treat" as adorably as possible. She's practiced and got it down-pat. She's so ready for this. She's going to be the cutest kid in all of fucking Plainsboro.

First stop of the night is Wilson's apartment (of course). House carries Thirteen up to the doorstep and is giving her a pep talk. "You remember what we practiced, right? I knock on the door, I'll put you down, the door opens– that's when you hit 'em with the big guns. You remember what to say?" Thirteen nods. (Of course she does, she's his kid and she's smart as a whip. He's confident.) "Alright, let's get this show on the road. Knock 'em dead."

House knocks on the door, sets her down on the ground, takes one step back. He can hear muffled footsteps from inside. The door opens, and he sees the silhouette of Wilson holding a bowl full of candy. Before he can say anything, Thirteen throws her arms up, jumps towards him, and shouts "ROAR!" at the top of her little lungs.

House puts his head in his hands (but he's laughing behind them). When he looks up, Wilson is feigning terror as Thirteen toddles towards him, the giant pumpkin costume wobbling adorably with each step. "I got you, Jimmy!"

"What happened to 'trick-or-treat'?" House asks.

Wilson crouches down to Thirteen's height, and then pretends to be knocked aside when she gently baps him with one little hand. "I think she decided that SHE wanted to be both the trick and the treat."

"Yeah!" Thirteen grins and points to her costume. "Look, Jimmy! Scary!" (but of course she can't say her R's yet).

"Absolutely terrifying." House agrees. "But hey, Lucky Thirteen. Don't you want to show Jimmy what we practiced?"

"What you practiced?" Wilson raises a brow.

Thirteen frowns. "Not scary."

"You can be as blood-curdlingly horrifying as you want after we get some candy."

Thirteen brightens again. "Okay!" Without hesitation, she holds out her fabric candy basket and looks up at Wilson with the most adorable little smile he's ever seen. "T'ick o' t'eat!" (To her credit, she enunciates well for her age, minus those damn R's).

"Oh my god." Wilson looks up at House with an expression that's half-horrified, half-intrigued. House grins. "You trained her. Like a dog."

"T'ick o' t'eat!" Thirteen repeats, and pushes her basket against Wilson's knee. "Candy?"

"She's not a dog, Wilson. She's a finely tuned magnet for all the candy in Plainsboro."

"Yes, you can have some candy," Wilson assures Thirteen. He reaches for the discarded bowl and pulls out a small handful to drop into her basket. Looking back up at House, he says, "You are terrible. I expect a cut of no less than thirty percent of your earnings."

"Save me the Reese's in that bowl and we have a deal."

Thirteen ends up trying to scare people at almost half of the houses, but she's so adorable that she's showered with candy regardless. By the end of the night they've got enough to last them weeks.