#I thought libraries were supposed to be quiet spaces

[drivenbydopamine]

I need true silence. I don't want the shove-things-in-my-ears-so-I-almost-can't-hear-your-noises silence(ish)

[globalrebrand]

Thinking about this post by @jymwahuwu....what about Capitano with a darling who wouldn't even tell him she's pregnant in the first place?

Warnings: Pregnancy, not sfw, angst, mentions of abortion

Capitano inquires about your recent doctors visit and you just shrug off his concern. Insisting it was just “a mild flu" and “I'll be better soon.” Never one to pry he doesn't push you for more details, even if your marriage is unconventional, he trusts that you would be honest with him considering he's never done anything to make you mistrustful of him. As far as he knows.

Your husband considers going over your head to confirm your condition with the doctor, but he knows that would only upset you. And regardless you’d bribed the doctor with your allowance to keep your pregnancy a secret.

You tell only your trusted ladies maid. Who diligently helps you keep up the ruse, she lets your bodices out and makes sure you don't show in the early months and makes sure you're never offered wine with dinner.

Capitano isn't around enough to notice the small but tell-tale signs that you're expecting, however, for the others who live in the manor it could not be more abundantly clear that you're pregnant.

So imagine his outrage when he hears of your pregnancy, not from your lips as he would have expected, but from one of the maids. It happens late one night when he's in the library reading, trying to find a moment of peace is an endlessly hectic month, while a maid dusts quietly on the upper level. You've made your self scarce recently and begrudgingly Capitano gives you space. Early in your relationship you told him that he was smothering and he accepted the criticism, and they two of you had found a balance, but now you are cold and aloof. You were never one to be vulnerable, and it was precisely a sort of quiet ferocity that you possessed that captivated him, but he was at his wits end. He thought that the two of you were making progress, but he supposes not, the last five months have been a regression. He would need to talk to you soon, the matter has become so distracting that he tunes in to the whispering happening on the upper levels. Another maid has joined the first as they chat languidly about house gossip when the subject turns to you.

"Her ladyship is so fatigued as of late. I'm not used to her being so torpid. It's disheartening." The first maid whispers almost imperceptibly, her words laced with worry.

Capitano stops focusing on his book entirely. They speak quickly and almost inaudibly quiet in their native Snezhnayan tongue, but his keen ears are able to focus perfectly on the conversation.

"Don't worry, I was the same way with my first, energy always came in bursts, though it left almost as quickly as it came." The other maid, older and a mother herself tries to assuage her colleague. "Poor dear, it only gets worse from this point." She sighs.

Confusion twists Capitano's features. He has in inkling of what the maids could be referring to, but if its as he expects he will be utterly irate that you did not tell him. He needs to hear them say it. Say the word and confirm his suspicions.

"Pregnancy sounds so scary. Ah, I still can't believe she hasn't told his Lordship."

"Oh, that I don’t understand at all, my husband would be furious ."

"Indeed." Capitano says aloud, shutting his book with a violent snap and storming out of the library.

He hears the maids gasp before leaving. Both clearly forgot about his presence. Another unexpected symptom of your influence, the staff have become entirely too comfortable.

Capitano ascends the stairs to your shared chambers. You should be getting ready for bed at about this hour and indeed he finds you in your shared bedroom. When he pushes the door open you startle, stopping in your tracks as you cross the room, but you quickly recompose yourself. This lie you've protracted has likely left you completely on edge.

A fire rumbles behind you in the hearth and your nightgown while not normally so visibly transparent became sheer in the light, it was subtle, but your silhouette against the firelight revealed the slightest protrusion of your midsection. You follow his gaze and turn away from him, without so much as a word.

For five months you’ve hardly let him see you naked not to mention you rejected all his attempts to initiate sex for the past three.

If you apprehend the hostility radiating off your husband, you do not acknowledge it. You were surprisingly stubborn and endlessly poised, keeping your cards quite close to your chest until it was time to play your hand. It would likely upset you but he would force you to show your hand, he'd been far too accommodating of your deceit.

You open your mouth to speak but Capitano wants none of your deflections.

"Pregnant? He questions. His tone, assured and firm. No room for argument, but Capitano can tell from your expression that your're willing to try it anyways.

The audacity that you would give him an incredulous look only incenses him further. He has to wonder why you are working so hard to hide your pregnancy from him.

Unless....it wasn't his.

No. You were many infuriating things, but you weren't disloyal...at least he thought.

"What? No--" His anger surges along with another dagger into his heart. Now he knows you’re lying. Or at least attempting to, but Capitano is having none of it. He has never lied to you. How could you so easily try to deceive him? It was dishonorable at best and a betrayal at worst.

"Don't you dare try to lie to me. The maids have already confirmed as much." He bats away your rebuttal with a terse reply.

As you come to realize the gravity of the situation, of your husbands rage, all color drains from your expression. The look of terror that paralyzes your features is out of place. As long as he you have been his wife, you have never even pretended to fear him. It is one of the qualities he admired about you. Now your wide frightful eyes and rigid frame are making him lose his nerve in the confrontation. An incredibly rare occurrence, the last thing Capitano ever wanted was for you to be afraid of him. However you had crossed a line, you had lied and actively misled him about a matter most important to you both.

"You didn't think to tell me?” He questions, the words curt and cruel.

"Well there's nothing you can do about it now." You reply, your tone defensive and your hackles raised. “It’s too late to….to do anything. The baby is coming.”

"Is it mine?" He questions, unfeeling and entirely unprepared for a negative answer.

"… how fucking dare you." You turn around to curse at him and Capitano is taken aback. He thought your eyes couldn't get any wider.

"Of course it is!" You cry, your expression equal parts outrage and hurt.

"Then why did you hide from me!" He matches your anger, raising his voice and stepping closer as you try to sidestep and evade him. The tightly controlled anger he bottled now sparking and bursting.

"I needed time to prepare." You implore exasperated as if Capitano should have understood your machinations perfectly.

"For what?!" He shouts.

"What if you didn't want it?!" You yell back. No tears have spilled but your eyes are wet and your face feels hot.

Capitano narrows his eyes at you, looking down on your defiant posture equal parts terrified and indignant. Then it all comes into focus.

You want this baby and you...thought he would make you get rid of it. With a gasping sob, you speak up again, your emotions now starting to get the better of you.

"What if you didn't want it....then what would I do?"

As intimate as you two have become in the past half year, Capitano remembers that you are both essentially strangers in many ways.

"Never assume my thoughts." He scolds, his tone terse but with much less bark. He closes the space between you, reaching out a tentative hand to you. Capitano is heartened when you take his hand, slender fingers curling around his broad palm. He begins to relax, but his rage has not subsided fully.

"You think I wouldn't want this child?" He questions, his voice much softer, but a slight resentment still colors his words.

"I didn't know what to think and I-I needed time." You replied, rubbing your tears away with your opposite hand. This is the first time he's seen you like this, so vulnerable. Capitano can't confidently say if he'd ever seen your cry before.

“Time for what?” Capitano urges you for more details. Your reasoning still alludes him. He would have gladly helped with any and all preparations for the baby. Seeing how things unfolded he regrets not being more forthcoming with his thoughts about having a child with you.

“To get a plan in place. If you told me to get rid of it.” Capitano can't even concieve of what you could mean. Would you attempt to leave him? Surely you weren't thinking something so idiotic, but he attempts to reserve judgement when he asks, "what would you have done?"

"Run away." You confess quietly, but Capitano only scoffs and rolls his eyes. The idea is preposterous. You will never leave him, Marriage is a bond that should be upheld and besides he is far too attached for you to leave now.

"I would never allow such a thing. You must honor the vows you made to me." Your husband asserts.

"I would still try. For my baby I-" You insist.

"Our baby." Capitano corrects. You pause, your tears dry and breathing calmed.

"I will not allow the child to inconvenience you." You plead, bringing a hand to his chest and searching his eyes, desperate for validation that he wants what you want. That he wants this child growing inside of you.

"No child of ours could ever be a burden to me." Your shoulders drop with relief and Capitano encircles you with his broad arms.

"You honor me most highly, by having my child." Capitano pauses before continuing, "and our child is already blessed to have a mother who would protect them so fiercely."

"You're not angry?" You question, shocked by his benevolence.

"Oh, I'm livid, but not about the child. At that news, I am delighted."

"I'm sorry," you whisper his name and nuzzle into his chest. "I just couldn't face your rejection. Not with this." You clarify and Capitano begins to see your perspective.

A child changes many dynamics in a romantic partnership and though the two of you seemed relatively stable in your young marriage. He can understand how your fear of his rejection would prevent you from being forthcoming. Especially with a matter so sensitive. Not that even remotely agrees with your actions.

"Is this why you have shied away from me these past month. Why you wouldn't let me touch you?"

You nodded.

Capitano picked you up and laid you on the bed, pushing your night gown up and spreading you legs. He licked his thumb and immediately began to caress your clit.

"You will not hide yourself from me in the future. I must know your thoughts."

You shuddered at the contact.

"Then you must do the same.” You demanded. Capitano could only smile at your gall, to be beneath him legs spread, pussy exposed and still you make demands of him.

"Behave this evening, sufficiently demonstrate your contrition, renew your devotion to me and I will give you anything you ask for." You consider his words before agreeing.

You nod again.

“Say yes husband.” Capitano requests with a raised brow.

"Yes, husband." A rare act of obedience. It suits you well.

Good. Capitano thinks. "I'm glad the terms are agreeable to you." He says lowering himself briefly to press a kiss to your lips, one much deeper and needier than any shared in recent months. Archons, how he's missed being with you like this.

Reluctantly Capitano parts from you and begins to undress himself, one hand working the buttons of his shirt while the other remains steadfast teasing your sex.

"You can start your penance by tending to me as I lick your cunt." Capitano’s smile grows wider as you shiver at his words, clearly aroused an eager. Despite the small pout that lingers on your lips. He heard that the libido of pregnant women was often more intense. You stubborn thing, denying yourself what you so clearly want. It is good that Capitano is in a forgiving mood. Your husband helps you out of your nightdress before laying beside you. He helps guide your hips to his face and keeps a guiding hand on your neck as he leads you to where he aches most. Capitano presses his nose to your dripping sex and inhales deeply. "It's been far too long since we last did this." He all but groans, and despite everything that’s transpired this evening, you're inclined to agree.

[sturniphone]

𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 . . . 𝐒𝐇𝐔𝐓 𝐔𝐏 𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐃

in which . . . mean!chris fingers you in the library stacks, licking you stupid until you cum all over his hand, dazed and trembling

Chris is popular. Loud. The kind of boy who walks through the halls like he owns them, always flanked by his friends, laughing too loud, chewing gum with zero respect for the rules. He’s tall, tan, always in trouble, and never takes anything seriously. You’d never think someone like him would even look twice at someone like you. But he did. Or maybe he was just desperate to pass algebra.

He asked for tutoring with that cocky little smirk, voice slick with fake innocence. You had said yes because you were polite, because your teacher encouraged it, because even though he was mean, he was also stupidly beautiful, and it made your stomach flutter when he looked at you like that. You’d suggested the library. Quiet, safe. He’d just grinned. But he hasn’t touched his textbook once.

Now, you’re tucked between the shelves, hidden in the far back, where the older reference books gather dust and no one really wanders. It’s secluded. Still, it’s risky. And your heart thunders with every creak of the floorboards. but now The library is quiet, sun leaking through the tall windows in buttery streaks, dust dancing in the light. But you’re not in one of the open study areas—you’re tucked between the shelves, hidden in the far back, where the older reference books gather dust and no one really wanders. It’s secluded. Still, it’s risky. And your heart thunders with every creak of the floorboards.

You’re pressed back against a shelf, spines digging into your back, the hard edge of the metal uncomfortable against your shoulder blades. But you barely notice. Your glasses are slipping down your nose, breath shallow and fast. Chris is crouched between your legs, big hands pinning your thighs wide apart, and he’s got that awful, smug look on his face—the one that makes your stomach flip and your knees weak. ❝Stop squirming, nerd,❞ he mutters, mouth already glistening, eyes dark and hungry. ❝You’re the one who wore this little skirt.❞

You try to speak—some small protest, a whisper maybe—but it comes out as a pathetic little gasp when he hooks your panties to the side and dives back in like he owns you. His tongue licks a long, slow stripe up your cunt, and your knees threaten to buckle. ❝Don’t make a sound,❞ he warns lowly, pausing just long enough to drag his fingers through your slick and push two into you, slow and deep. ❝Unless you want someone to come see what the school nerd gets up to during study hall.❞

You shake your head frantically, biting your sleeve to muffle the pitiful whimper that escapes when his thumb circles your clit. You’re so wet already, soaking through the thin cotton of your panties, and it’s humiliating how easily you take his long fingers, how loud the wet sounds are in this quiet, sacred space. He chuckles against you, lips brushing your inner thigh. ❝Thought you were supposed to be shy, baby. Didn’t think you’d let me finger you in the damn library.❞

You look down at him through thick lashes, face burning, completely unable to form words. You’ve never done anything like this—never even thought you’d let someone see you like this. But Chris is relentless. Mean, cocky, gorgeous. His dark hair falls into his eyes as he works, mouth open and panting softly against your heat, licking messily like he knows how ruined it makes you. He flattens his tongue, dragging it over your clit again and again until your head thumps back against the bookshelf behind you. ❝Fuck,❞ he mutters, voice muffled, ❝tastes even better than I thought. Are you going to cum already?❞

Your thighs shake, and you try to close them, but he just grips tighter, spreading you even more. He slips another finger in, groaning at how tight your hole clenches around him, soaking and fluttering, sucking his fingers back in every time he pulls them out. ❝None of that, sweetheart,❞ he growls, curling his fingers inside you with practiced precision. ❝Take it. Be a good little slut and let me make you cum.❞

You cry out, barely holding it in, face buried in the crook of your elbow as you tremble. His fingers fuck into you fast now, slick and filthy, knuckles deep as he chases the way your pussy flutters and clenches. He tongues your clit at the same time—nasty and focused, licking you stupid, tongue soft and quick while his fingers thrust into your weeping cunt. Your free hand finds his hair, gripping and tugging, hips grinding shamelessly against his face.

❝Chris—❞ you sob out, ❝gonna—❞ ❝Yeah? Cum on my fingers, nerd. Let that pretty little pussy show me how grateful she is.❞ The coil in your belly tightens, then snaps all at once, your body jerking as you cum hard around his fingers, your tight little hole spasming, clenching and pulsing with desperate, wet sounds. Your thighs tremble, glasses slipping crooked on your nose, eyes wide and glassy.

He keeps going through it, mean and slow, licking between your folds like he wants every drop, tongue circling your clit again as your overstimulated hole sucks his fingers back in, milking them. Then finally, finally, he pulls back, fingers slipping from your pussy with a filthy squelch, licking them clean like he’s still hungry.

❝You should be thanking me, nerd,❞ he says, standing and dragging his thumb over your bottom lip. ❝Best tutoring session you’ve ever had.❞ And you just nod, dazed and flushed, clutching your notebook to your chest like it’ll keep you steady, brain still too foggy to remember your own name, let alone the equations you were supposed to be studying.

𝐋𝐎𝐋𝐀 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐒 . . .  based on this ask, sorry if this is bad

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐒 . . .  @chrepsi @ph3ebssturniolo @sturnsxbbyeilish @j21l91 @pip4444chris

⌗ © sturniphone

[luvyeni]

( reaction ) how you met yandere enha ! ୨୧ 一 엔하이픈 ՞

⸃ ⸰ ⌁ the first time you've ever met enhypen ヾ

yandere!엔하이픈・ fem!reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ smut ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ cw ・ ‎ wc ・ ‎n/a ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎| ‎ ‎click to library

request. hi again hhh i was wondering if you could do like a backstory for how yan!enha met oc? Absolutely love your yan fics btw! ^^

「 ୨୧ authors note 」

﹙ 𐙚 : jungwon﹚ .ᐟ

at school , you were the new girl and he was the class president so you trusted him easily, letting him guide you around on your first day , he even offered you a seat at the table he was sitting at. you sat with him everyday growing closer, he could tell you were developing a crush on him and that's exactly what he wanted, all he needed was you to confess and that's when his plan could really be set in motion: he could make sure you don't ever belong to anyone else but him.

﹙ 𐙚 : heeseung﹚ .ᐟ

what was supposed to be a one night stand from a dating website turned into you having a section in his closet , you just showed up one day and never left and you couldn't figure out how that happened and why no one ever called , heeseung knew you were so in love with him you didn't even notice him slowly removing everyone out of your life leaving space in your heart and head only for him.

﹙ 𐙚 : jay﹚ .ᐟ

you were a new waitress at a restaurant he often had dinner to discuss business with clients. you were the waitress waiting on them; he thought you were perfect, especially when you politely declined the advances of his clients he knew you would look perfect on his arms , so he made sure to leave you a large tip along with his personal phone number , you gladly accepted it unaware of the danger you just stepped into.

﹙ 𐙚 : jake﹚ .ᐟ

you two were childhood friends; he'd been obsessed with you since the moment he saw you playing on the playground ; you being a kid never noticed it , it wasn't until you two were teenagers where you started to realize jake was really into you , a little more than you were into him , but he was your best friend and you knew you'd grew to love him like he did you — turns out he loved a bit too hard and before you figured that out it was to late.

﹙ 𐙚 : sunghoon﹚ .ᐟ

you were the sister of someone he really hated you, at first he was doing only to piss them off , but then he actually started to fall for you , no more like grow unhealthy obsessed with you to the point even when his enemy found out about the secret affair and forced you to call it off it drove him mad, he was angry and we all know what happens when he's angry, what made him even angrier is he had to pretend to give a fuck when you came to him crying about it when in reality he with he backed over him a few times.

﹙ 𐙚 : sunoo﹚ .ᐟ

like jake you and sunoo were childhood friends ; but you fell for the boy first , and your relationship was actually good, he was one of the best people you ever known , of course he could be a bet overbearing and with did tell you he loved you 100 times a day and never got off of you when you slept together , he was just scared you'd leave him , you were you and he was no where like you , you had a reason to leave him , and he couldn't have that.

﹙ 𐙚 : ni-ki﹚ .ᐟ

the quiet girl in school no one talked to , ni - ki saw while he was skipping class like usual , you were sitting alone in the library reading , you were perfect, he wanted you and he knew he had to have you , so he followed you around , making sure you knew what he wanted every time , you thought he was cute , you eventually let him sit down next to you in the library , sitting there toying with everything why you read quietly next to him , sometimes you'd have to hold his hand to keep him quiet , you were so unaware that the reason everyone avoided him was because of how scary and dangerous he was and everyone was too scared to warn you cause then they'd have to encounter the boy who never left your side.

[luminiamore]

my love, mine all mine.

eren yeager x black female reader (bestfriend)

warnings: oral sex, fluffyness, jealous eren, soft sex, eren is kinda a nerd, creampies and a tight grip super soaker

enjoy and happy late valentine’s day!! :))

You were buried in your textbooks at your campus library, the various pages spread out before you. Psychology. An interesting major if you say so yourself. You thought it’d be simple enough: learning about how the human mind works and what makes people tick. It was fascinating, really.

And yet here you were, hunched over on the slightly uncomfortable chair, trying your hardest to remember exactly what your professor meant by “cognitive dissonance” and how it related to human behavior. You could feel your mind starting to wander as you tried to read through this particularly dense section.

Your focus was absolute, trying to absorb as much as you could for your upcoming midterm. The world outside this small corner you had found didn’t exist—just you and your thoughts. The peace and quiet here were comforting. It was rare that you could study without distractions and were determined to take full advantage of it.

You sighed and momentarily leaned back in your chair, the quiet hum of the library your only companion. The chair creaked slightly as you stretched, glancing out the window. Students were scattered everywhere, likely heading to their next class. The soft light from the afternoon sun cast a gentle glow through the glass, and you found a certain beauty in it.

You’re about to head back to your studies when something interrupts you. Someone, actually.

A shadow loomed over your desk, casting a slight imbalance in your peaceful space. A little startled, you looked up to see a tall figure standing beside you. You didn’t need to look too hard to recognize him—Eren—your best friend since grade school.

You blinked, a bit caught off guard. He wore a white wife beater that clung to his frame a little too tight. His jeans looked worn, with traces of dirt hinting at a long work day. A mechanic’s job was never exactly pristine, you guessed. He must’ve just gotten off his shift.

“You studying?” his voice smooth like it always was when he was trying to get your attention.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes softly. “What does it look like?” You gestured to the open textbooks and scattered notes with a slight flush. You mentally, thank God, it wasn’t visible. “Psych is kicking my ass. I’m starting to wonder why I thought this would be easy.”

He leaned against the edge of your table, his arms crossed. His recent gym visits have been seriously paying off, and it’s impossible not to notice. You look away from him and face your laptop, determined not to let him catch you staring. “Maybe you thought you could magically understand the human psyche,” he’s teasing you like he always does.

You shot him a half-smile, unable to resist his charm. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I thought,” sarcasm dripping from your voice. “But I’m pretty sure I’m about to fail the midterm at this rate.”

He stifles a snicker. “Nah, you’re too smart for that.” He pushed himself off the table, walked around to the chair next to you, and sat down casually. “You’ll figure it out. You always do.”

You tried not to let his proximity distract you, but it was hard. Downright impossible. His scent—a mix of motor oil, the fresh air from his work, and something else uniquely him—was all around you now. It was distracting. Stubborn that you are, you brush it off. Doesn’t mean anything. You shifted in your seat, pretending to focus on the words on the screen. Focus.

“So, what exactly is giving you the most trouble?” his gaze never leaving you.

You exhaled deeply, closing your textbook with a slight thud. “Theories of personality,” you said, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration. “I just can’t wrap my head around it. Freud and Jung… are so complicated. Like, how are we supposed to remember all this?”

He gives you an uncommitted hum and starts explaining it to you. Eren had this ability to make anything he said sound convincing, even if it was complete bullshit. You suppose it’s his confidence.

He was close. Too close.

He leaned in when describing Freud, his arm brushing against yours as he pointed at your notes. The warmth of his bare skin sent a shiver down your spine, but you forced yourself to focus on the words he was saying and not the way his voice sounded when he spoke so close to your ear.

His eyes stayed on you even as you stared down at your notes. They were sharp as if he were studying you more than the material before you. He tilted his head slightly, watching the way your lips parted in thought, the way your fingers tapped absently against the notebook as you processed what he had just explained.

He always thought you were beyond beautiful.

“You just need to simplify it,” he interrupts his own thoughts from going further.

He never hesitated to break the invisible barriers most people respected. You had never minded before. At least, you told yourself you didn’t.

When he finally finished his explanation, you blinked at him, momentarily caught off guard by how easily he made it all make sense. For a second, you forgot how smart he was.

“Okay, that helps,” you murmured, scribbling down his words before they slipped from your mind. You could still feel his gaze on you, but you kept your focus trained on the paper in front of you, trying to ignore how your fingers suddenly felt clumsier holding the pen. “I forget you have an almost 4.0.”

Eren leaned back, stretching lazily, the movement drawing your attention to the way his muscles flexed beneath his shirt. What is wrong with you today? He simply shrugged, “I’m just that good.”

That twinkle in his eyes—that mischievous glint he always had after saying something cocky—made your stomach flip in a way that annoyed you. You were used to it, used to him, but lately, it felt different. Lately, you were noticing too much.

His voice softened just a little as he added, “But, seriously, you’re gonna ace this thing. I believe in you.”

You forced yourself to roll your eyes, but the small, grateful smile you gave him betrayed you.

“Thanks, Ren,” you said quietly, tapping your pen against your notebook, something you picked up as a nervous habit. You cleared your throat, needing to shake the feeling away. “I trust you or whatever.”

“Good,” he replied instantly, watching you a beat longer than necessary. “But if you fail, I’ll take the blame.”

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “Sure. I’ll blame the nigga who cheated his way through high school but somehow knows more about psychology than I do.”

His smirk widened, and instead of arguing, he gave you a wide smile, looking way too pleased with himself.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ ᡣ𐭩 ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ ᡣ𐭩

The library had started to empty out after a few hours, the quiet hum of students packing up their things filling the space around you. You sighed, stretching your arms over your head as you finally closed your textbook. “I think that’s enough psych for one night,” you muttered, rubbing your eyes.

Eren, who had been scrolling through his phone while waiting for you to finish, pushed off the table with a lazy grin. “Took you long enough.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t argue, stuffing your belongings into the LV monochrome bag Eren had gotten you for your birthday last year. He sees it as a way of staking his claim on you. He fell into step beside you effortlessly as you walked out of the library, the cool evening air from the hallway AC brushing against your skin.

“You actually gonna remember any of that next week?” he asked, nudging your shoulder.

You huffed. “I’d like to think so.”

He snorted, shaking his head, but before he could get another jab in, a voice called out your name from just ahead.

You both turned in unison.

A guy. From your psych class—tall, almost matching Eren’s height, though not quite—was making his way toward you. His curls were neat, framing his face in a way that made him look effortlessly put together. His skin was fair, and his smile was easy and friendly.

He was dressed in a fitted long-sleeve shirt, the fabric clinging just enough to suggest he worked out but not in a way that screamed it. The sleeves were pushed up to his elbows, revealing forearms that were toned. It was paired with gray sweats. He was cute.

His hands were shoved into his pockets, his stride unhurried as he approached, like he had all the time in the world. His gaze flickered between you and Eren briefly before settling on you, his smile widening just a touch as he finally spoke.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt, but I just wanted to catch you before you left.”

You blinked in surprise, vaguely recognizing him in lectures from a few rows ahead of you. He was one of those students who always had the answer, constantly engaged in class discussions. A teacher’s pet almost. You never really talked outside of the occasional group work.

Your best friend shifted beside you. His arms remained loosely crossed over his chest, but there was a new stiffness in his stance, as if he was suddenly more aware of his own posture. His weight shifted slightly from one foot to the other, his jaw ticking just the slightest bit. You didn’t think much of it at first—Eren was always fidgeting in some way.

You tilted your head slightly, blinking up at the guy. “Oh—what’s up?”

He hesitated just a second as if gathering the nerve, before rubbing the back of his neck with a small, almost sheepish smile. “I, uh… I’ve seen you in class a lot, and, well… I was wondering if you’d wanna grab coffee sometime? Maybe this Saturday?”

There was a beat of silence.

Your brain took longer than usual to process what he said. It wasn’t like people never asked you out, but something about this moment—maybe the unexpectedness of it, maybe the presence of Eren beside you—had you hesitating.

Your best friend, however, didn’t hesitate at all.

You felt the way his jaw tightened, just a tiny twitch, but you noticed it because you always notice things about him. His stance changed, going from casually relaxed to something more grounded, like he was unconsciously bracing himself. Learning Psychology does pay off in some cases.

His voice, when it came, was firm.

“Sorry, we have plans that day. Don’t we, (꣑ৎ)?”

Your eyes flickered toward Eren, surprise flashing across your face, but he didn’t look at you. His gaze remained locked on the guy in front of you, his expression is unreadable. His green eyes, usually lazy and half-lidded with amusement, were hardened now in a way that sent a clear message. She’s unavailable.

It seems the guy wasn’t so easily deterred. He hesitated only for a second before his strained smile returned, a little tighter than before. “Oh. Sunday, then?”

His voice was lighter, forcedly casual—like he was only picking up on the tension in the air.

You barely had time to open your mouth, to form even the beginning of a response, before Eren spoke for you. Again. Are you just invisible?

“No can do,” his tone leaving no room for argument. “She has a midterm coming up that she needs to study for.” His head tilted slightly, almost like he was appraising the guy in front of him, before adding, “Speaking of, you should be catching up on that too, right?”

The question wasn’t really a question, that much you knew.

The guy stood there, blinking, an almost shocked look on his face, as if he wasn’t quite sure what to say. His mouth opened slightly before closing again, and for the first time since approaching you, he seemed genuinely unsure of himself.

Eren, more than satisfied with that reaction, barely gave him another second to recover before turning toward you. “We’ll be leaving now,” he said simply.

And just like that, he placed a hand against the small of your back, steering you down the hallway without so much as another glance at the guy he had just dismissed. You walked in silence, your mind racing, but you held your tongue, deciding to wait until you reached your dorm room before you interrogated him on whatever the hell just happened.

The soft click of your shoes echoed in the otherwise quiet hallway. You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, that Eren had done more than step in to save you from a potentially awkward situation. The way he responded, the way he shut it all down before you even had a chance to speak—it wasn’t the usual playful teasing that he was known for.

As you reached the door to your dorm, you couldn’t hold back anymore. You turned to face him, narrowing your eyes. “Okay, what the fuck was that?” you asked, crossing your arms.

Eren didn’t even flinch. His posture was relaxed as if he already knew you were going to challenge him, as if he was waiting for it. He didn’t even look at you when he spoke. “What are you talking about?”

You raised an eyebrow, the frustration in you bubbling to the surface. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. You practically scared him off and answered for me like I couldn’t say no myself.”

Eren pushed himself off the doorframe right then, he didn’t wait for you to catch up—he just walked into your room, leaving the door hanging open. “I just did what needed to be done,” he shrugged.

His back was still to you, and you couldn’t entirely ignore the way his long, dark hair—extensions, you’d noticed before—swung just below his shoulders as he moved. He always looks so pretty with his hair down.

You followed him inside, refusing to let go of the subject.

“What needed to be done? Are you serious? Eren, you shut the guy down before he could even finish his sentence. I barely had a chance to say anything.” You stopped in the doorway, trying to keep your voice steady before you slammed the door shut.

Eren turned to face you, a grin slowly spreading across his face, like he found it all amusing. His eyes got slightly hooded as he eyed you up and down. The outfit you wore left little to the imagination, and all he could think about was.. How could he let anyone else have you?

“Why are you upset? He was making you uncomfortable. It’s my job to step in when that happens.” His gaze flickered over to your face once more, almost like he was daring you to argue.

Before you could respond, he adds, “Unless… you wanted to go out with him?”

You scoffed, shaking your head in disbelief, dropping you bag on the nearby desk before turning back to face him, “I wouldn’t even know, cause once again, you didn’t even give me a chance to respond!”

He groaned, the sound almost exaggerated. His eyes rolled dramatically, like he was irked that you weren’t just agreeing with him. “Oh please, girl. He wasn’t even taller than me. He looks scrawny as fuck. He looks like a pussy. You deserve someone better than that.” He practically waved the whole thing off with a flick of his hand.

You stared at him for a moment, caught off guard by the bluntness of his words.

“And what? That someone is you?” The words slipped out before you could stop them, and you instantly regretted how it sounded—like you were baiting him.

Eren stepped closer to where you were standing, closing the space between you. His body was warm, his scent—it was clouding you as he looked down at you. There was a beat of silence.

His response comes out slow, “Could be,”

Your breath hitches, almost caught in your throat. You mind can’t understand what is happening, it never can when Eren is this close to you. His eyes are dark, more intense than they’d been a moment ago. Your pulse quickens, and you couldn’t stop yourself from looking down at his lips for a split second before snapping your gaze back up to his eyes. With the way your mouth opens and closes repeated, it was clear you didn’t know what to say.

“What’s the matter, baby?” Eren’s voice was barely a whisper now, his breath warm against your lips, his hand tentatively grasping your waist.

“Nothing,” you manage to whisper, your voice coming out shaky, unsure if you even believe your own words.

Eren’s lips twitch upward at your lie, you’re so cute sometimes. You’re fucking gorgeous all the time. His grip gets slightly tighter when he feels you don’t push away. You can’t stop yourself from leaning into his touch, from leaning into how the heat in your chest turns into something that pools low in your stomach.

“You’re lying,” he murmurs, voice rougher now. His thumb traces mindlessly circles on your skin, and you find yourself losing all self-control.

Your heart is racing, but it’s not from fear. Far from it. It’s from the way he’s making you feel alive in a way that only he could do. You can feel the uncomfortable stickiness pooling underneath your skirt.

His other hand moves up, cupping your chin gently but firmly, tilting your face upward to meet his gaze. There’s no mistaking the way his eyes flicker down to your lips again, and there’s a certain hunger in them.

His voice carries that commanding tone you’ve always known too well. “It’s okay,” he murmurs, his thumb gently grazing your bottom lip, making you inhale sharply. “Lemme help you get the words out. That okay?”

And when he does lean in, it’s not like anything you ever felt before. His lips brush against yours gently at first, being the tease that he is. Then, without warning, he deepens the kiss, his other hand coming up to slide into your neatly done butterfly locs, gripping it just enough to tilt your head back slightly.

You’re desperate, and your best friend knows it—the way your fingers clutch at the thin fabric of his shirt, practically begging. He pulls away just long enough to yank it over his head. The string of spit still barely connecting you makes something dark flicker in his eyes, his restraint snapping completely. The next kiss he goes in for is more forceful.

You try to push eren back, just a little, but he barely budges—barely even lets you catch your breath. The taste of him is overwhelming, as you manage to get the words out between shallow breaths. “Ren, Are you—Are you sure about this?”

“Never been more sure about anything in my life.” He moves fast, tugging the strings of your white top, pushing it down until it slips from your shoulders, falling to the floor. His lips stay on yours, the sweet taste of your strawberry lip gloss making him crave more. He feels like he might cum, just from kissing you—embarrassing as that is.

You’re the one more concerned, your voice faltering, “But what—Ah! I don’t want to ruin our friend…ship.”

His lips wander further down. Pressing feather-light kisses to the crook of your shoulders before he moves back up to where your sweet spot is. He doesn’t hesitate to harshly grip your beautiful breasts, pulling at both of your brown nipples the best he can while his mouth and brain are preoccupied. The moan you let out is sinful, staggering, really, as you find your brain getting more hazy with each move he makes.

You think he hasn’t heard you when he doesn’t answer right away. Eren gently pushes you back, guiding you to the chair by your desk. He makes you sit with a firm hand and then drops to his knees in front of you, his gaze intense as he speaks again, “You really wanna stay just friends after this?”

He sucks at the skin of your soft thighs as his hands work to slip your boots off. Your eyes widen when he unbuttons your shorts, prompting you to slightly lift up to make it easier for him to slide it off of you. Before you can answer his previous questions, he’s interrupting you, “No bra or panties? Were you expecting this to happen (꣑ৎ)?”

You release a pathetic whimper when he moves closer to your sopping core, taking a deep inhale like he’s trying to commit your scent to his memory forever. You shake your head at his accusation, but it’s clear he doesn’t believe you when he takes two of his thick fingers to spread you open, revealing your tiny clit barely hidden behind its hood.

“You’re making a mess, baby. You need my help to clean it up?”

He needs to shut up. His words, his voice, do nothing but make you wetter. Eren slowly starts rubbing your clit, barely applying enough pressure to give you the stimulate you need and it’s starting to get you frustrated. “Answer Ren, baby. Do you need my help?”

You let out a cute squeal when he blows on your mound, and you’re too depraved to do anything but listen. “Yes! Yes, please help me!”

And nothing if not devoted to you, he listens. Eren places a wet, open-mouth kiss on your twitching pearl. He’s slow with his movements, savoring the honey-like taste of you that’s just pouring into his awaiting mouth. He moves his tongue in slow circles, up and down, drinking the juice coming from your slit.

You’re struggling to breathe, the pressure that’s building up all too quickly is too overwhelming. He’s not just eating you out. Eren is making love to your sweet pussy. It’s breaking you apart.

His ministrations on your dripping sap continue for a minute before he gets impatient and slips one long finger inside of you. And God, you’re tight. Gripping onto his finger so firmly, it’s almost like you never want him to leave. He begins pushing them in and out slowly.

You breathe out, “Eren! Oh my- Goddd.”

The squelches your pussy was singing become louder and more obscene. Your best friend considers that as his starting point to add another finger that is equally big and long. They both curl up to reach your G-spot instantly. The minute he found it, he just didn’t let up. Despite his slow pace, he continues to abuse your sensitive area. You’re gonna cum.

“Are you gonna cum? All over my ‘pretty’ face?” He’s throwing your own words right back at you. You were never shy about telling Eren how good he looked, and maybe that’s exactly how you ended up here.

You’re quick to nod, unable to keep silent as broken moans escape from your mouth, “M’gonna c-cum! Right there- Oh!”

How quickly your release hits you is unexpected. You gush. Streams of squirt land all over Eren’s fingers, and his face even lands on his hair, leaving it a bit damp. He gazes in astonishment as your eyes roll in the back of your head during your dramatic convulsions, and he groans into your essence. He looks down to look at the mess you made and— Oh. You creamed, too.

Fuck. He loves it. He loves that he’s the only one who can make you do that. He loves you. He also realizes that he needs to be inside you. Now.

The movements he makes, from removing you from the chair to your single bed, are hazy. You’re not sure how you got there; your brain is still trying to process the most intense, body-curling orgasm you’ve ever had in your life. But you’re quick to feel something wide and heavy pressing at your still-gushing entrance.

“M’gonna put it in now, kay?” Eren figures giving you a warning is the least he could do before rearranging your guts and mushing your insides.

You beg him to fuck you already by whining and grinding on his leaking tip. After laughing at the sight, he leans in to give you a deep kiss. You’re gasping and mewling in his mouth as you finally feel him push in.

He’s gasping in your mouth. Feeling his mind starting to scramble at the feeling of suffocating cunt. God, you’re perfect. “Is it- Is it in yet?”

He snickers. God, you’re just so cute. “No, baby. Not even halfway.”

You’re whimpering, hiccuping as small tears start to pool in your lower lash line. You’re clenching around him so tightly, and the more he pushes in, he is trying his best not to cum so quickly. He decides to plunge the rest of his eight inches in one go. Fuck you’re so loud, sputtering and wailing at the feeling of being so.. Full. You’re so full.

“Move- Move, please. Oh my-”

You don’t have to tell him twice. He steadily drags his cock away from your cervix, pulling out all the way before he pushes back inside again, hard. He repeats this. Once, twice, thrice more, and God, you “Can’t take it-it.”

He shushes your whines, kissing the tears falling down your cheeks, reaffirming you, “Of course you can, baby. I’ll even help you, yeah?”

His attentiveness is entirely too much. You’re babbling when his hand reaches in between you both to rub your swollen clit in rapid circles. A complete contrast to his way of fucking you.

The pressure in your lower abdomen is building at such a fast speed. Every harsh thrust against your cervix is painful like he’s trying to prove a point. But it feels oh so good.

“You feel so fucking good. I want you to cum, baby. Make a mess, just like you did on my face. Can you do that for me?”

You’re nodding and spluttering incoherently about how you can, how you will. You’d do anything for him. Both of your holes are releasing the most beautiful sounds. Eren presses a messy kiss onto your plump lips without waiting for you to respond, causing drool to escape from both of you. The sheets below you are feelable because of your wetness.

With a few more strokes, your body convulses once more. This time, your best friend has an up-close view of how beautiful you look in your most vulnerable state. Your orgasm gets even stronger when you feel Eren whimper against your lips and his own release, caused by the feeling of your spraying all over him.

His thrusts don’t change its pace as he stuffs you full of his seed. Your eyes look dazed, your makeup slightly ruined, and your lip combo nowhere to be found. He still can’t help but think you look just as gorgeous. He places one final peck on your lips before he speaks once more,

“I’m taking you out on a date this Saturday.”

Guess he wasn’t kidding when he said you two had plans that day.

🏷️: @keraawrites

[nvrsaidiwasinurcloset]

Hiii love your writingggg, could you plsss do very innocent!reader and pervy!ethan 🫶🏻

Hiii! I hope you like it, even though you requested this MONTHS ago.

I'm not innocent, so I'm not the best at writing it🙃 Hopefully this is okay:)

Creep - Pervy!Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Summary: You ask Ethan for help in econ, and once Mindy mentions the empty bedroom in the apartment she shares with Ethan and Chad, you agree to move in. But you realize that your sweet, dorky new roommate has been stealing your panties.

Contains: Pervy kinda creepy Ethan, innocent inexperienced reader, fingering. m!masturbation.

A/N: Okay...this needs a part 2 but I'm already at 5k words lmao. A lot of fics I've read along these lines had had Ethan more subby, but not in this one. 👀

*For the poll I posted earlier today, this one had the most votes at the time of me posting this fic. I'm going to write them all in the order that they're wanted:)*

It seemed like your life was starting to fall apart. You couldn’t stand your roommate, your boyfriend had broken up with you, and your grade for econ was starting to tank. When you brought up your grade to your professor after class, hoping to figure out some way to raise it, she suggested that you talk to Ethan Landry.

The next time you had class, you beelined towards him once he walked in. He noticed you, getting a little nervous the closer you got. He wasn’t the best at talking to girls, he even thought this could’ve been a figment of his imagination that the girl he struggled to take his eyes off was walking to him. He was chewing the inside of his cheek, his eyes not leaving you until you were finally face to face.

“Ethan, right?” you sweetly said, as he nodded. “I hear you’re the best for tutoring, and I desperately need your help if you have the time.”

“I’ll make the time,” he spat out, before he internally screamed at himself for sounding so desperate to help. “I mean, I can help you.”

“You’re a lifesaver,” you said, as you pulled out your phone. “What’s your number?”

“Oh, um…” he trailed off, racking his brain for those ten digits that he suddenly forgot. “I’m sorry, it’s been a long day.”

“It’s okay,” you smiled, “Are you okay with me just giving you my number and you can text me so we can set something up?”

“Yeah,” he said, as he pulled out his phone and went to create a new contact. He passed you his phone as you typed in your name and number, before you handed it back to him.

“Don’t forget to text me,” you said, a sweet smile playing on your lips as you turned to walk back to your seat.

“I won’t,” he said, tightly gripping his phone in his hand as you turned to smile at him once more.

He was struggling to focus as he sat through that class. His fingers kept rubbing over the phone screen that your thumbs had moved across, and he started to realize how pathetic he was for already being so addicted to you when you’d only spoken to him once.

Later that week, you were supposed to meet Ethan in the library to study. You both completely forgot about the renovations they were doing, the normally quiet space filled with the loud sounds of the various pieces of machinery on the opposite side of the room.

“Maybe we should try to do this some other time,” you yelled over the noise. “I can’t concentrate on anything you’re saying.”

“Oh, okay,” Ethan said, looking down so you wouldn’t see the sad look on his face. That’s when he started to get an idea. “My apartment is only two blocks away. It should be quieter. You want to come over to study?”

You liked to be cautious, and you normally wouldn’t go to someone’s apartment that you barely knew, but Ethan seemed innocent enough, and you desperately needed to pass the class so you wouldn’t have to take it again.

“Sure,” you said, wincing as the noise in the room got louder.

You walked beside Ethan as you went to his apartment, and even though it was just for studying, he felt a glint of pride as he walked with you. He hoped that anyone who saw you together would think you were his.

“Hopefully my roommates won’t be too loud,” Ethan sighed, as he stuck his key in the front door.

“Nothing is worse than what’s going on in the library right now,” you said, as he shrugged.

“You say that now…”

You barely made it inside when you heard arguing. Ethan sighed in defeat before he turned to you, “I moved in with my friends, and they’re constantly arguing.”

“Oh,” you giggled, as you followed him into the living room of the apartment. “Oh, hey Mindy,” you said, as she turned to you and smiled.

“Hey! What are you doing here?” she asked, as she walked over to you. Chad just stood there, still worked up from the spat they were having when you walked in.

“Ethan’s trying to help me not fail econ,” you said, as she nodded.

“I remember you mentioning you were having trouble with it.”

Ethan was confused as he stood there, because Mindy had never mentioned you, but she seemed to know you quite well. The two of you talked for a few minutes, and once Ethan heard another guy’s name get mentioned, he immediately got jealous.

“I’m proud of you for not giving him another chance,” Mindy said, as you let out a small laugh.

“I’m not going to say I didn’t think about it, but I don’t need him making my life any harder than it needs to be right now,” you sighed, “On top of the bullshit with him, my roommate is just so awful. Like, she woke me up blasting music before the sun even came up today. I’m trying to find somewhere else to live, but I haven’t had any luck yet.”

“Well, we’re looking for a fourth roommate…” Mindy trailed off, as Ethan’s eyes grew wide. “It’d be nice to have another girl here.”

“Don’t tempt me,” you joked, as Mindy smiled.

“Seriously, think about it,” she said, before she started to yell. “Chad!”

You noticed that the other boy was no longer in the room, but you saw him again as he turned the corner and groaned. “What?”

“Okay, don’t be rude,” she snapped, “I’m trying to convince her to move into the fourth bedroom.”

“Oh,” Chad said, his annoyed face turning up in a smile. “Hey, I’m Chad.”

“Hey,” you said, before he started to go over rent and other things you’d need to know. “Why would I want to move in when you two argue like this?” you joked, as Chad tried to play it off.

“We shared a womb, we lived in the same house until we moved into our dorms, and I finally got a break from her,” he said, as she scoffed, “But now we have to live together again and we’re trying to figure out how to do that.”

“I’ve never lived with boys before…and I’m sure my parents would kill me if they ever found out, but I’ll definitely think about it,” you said, before you turned to Ethan. “I’m sorry, you want to study now?”

“Yeah, let’s go to my room,” he said, as he led you there.

You both got settled on his bed. He sat across from you, his back against the headboard as you adjusted to get more comfortable, laying on your stomach. He bit his lip once he noticed the perfect view he had down your shirt, the neckline barely covering anything as your chest was pressed against his bed.

“So, where should we start?” you asked, your soft voice barely getting his attention as he kept staring at your chest. He wanted to squeeze your boobs, suck on them, fuck them, even. “Ethan?” you questioned as you looked away from your notebook, and opened your laptop, completely blocking the sight he was fantasizing over.

“Oh, uh…” he said, as he opened his laptop. “Maybe let’s work on the quiz that’s due this weekend. It’ll show me what you do and don’t need help with.”

You spent over an hour studying with Ethan, and you felt like you were having a little bit of a better understanding. You were starting to get hungry, so you closed your laptop. Ethan glanced over his screen the second he noticed, getting another peak down your shirt again. This time, he saw a part of one of your nipples peaking out of your bra, the sight making his pants grow tighter. He fought off the sound that was threatening to come out before you sat up, once again taking his perfect view away from him.

“I’m starving,” you said, as you started to put your stuff away. “But thank you so much for your help, and I hope you’ll want to keep helping me. You’re my only hope.”

He softly chuckled at your words, “If you move in, we can study whenever you want.”

“You’d be cool with it?” you asked, smiling at him. “You didn’t really say anything out there and I didn’t want to actually start considering it until you said something.”

“Yeah, I think it’s cool,” he said, “If you do want to, and you need help moving or anything, let me know.”

“Thanks, Ethan,” you said, smiling again before you made your way out of his room.

He wanted to walk you to the door, but he knew the second he stood up, his hard cock would be so obvious. He ran his hand over the spot you were laying on the bed, your warmth still soaked up by his comforter. The view down your shirt was burned in his brain as he got up and walked over to the door, shutting and locking it before he dropped his pants to give his aching cock the attention it desperately needed.

The next time you had econ, you walked in and sat down beside Ethan. He didn’t notice at first, but he soon smelled the familiar scent that he couldn’t get out of his head after you’d left his apartment a few days before. He wasn’t sure if it was your hair or the perfume you were wearing, but it smelled delicious.

“Hey,” he smiled, his pupils growing large as he saw you. “Are you okay?”

He took in the stress on your face, and how tired you looked.

“Yeah, are you sure you’re cool with me moving in?” you asked, “Because I can’t deal with my roommate anymore.”

“Yeah, of course,” he said, “What happened?”

“She invites her boyfriend to stay over whenever she doesn’t have class the next morning,” you sighed, “I don’t want to explain all the sounds I had to listen to while I tried to sleep last night.”

“Oh,” he said softly, “Well, your room would be beside mine, and I wouldn’t keep you up all night.”

“I bet that’s why I’m failing this class right now. I never sleep,” you said, as you looked over to him. “Wait, you don’t have a girlfriend that stays over?”

“No,” he said, his cheeks turning pink at your question.

“Sex is overrated,” you shrugged, “But I really thought you would’ve had a girlfriend.”

“Really?” he asked, as your professor walked in.

“Yeah, you’re a cutie,” you smiled, before you directed your attention to the lecture.

Ethan was thankful that you were so focused and didn’t see the cheesy smile on his face. The girl he’d been thinking about as he jerked his cock for the last few days called him cute, and his heart was swelling.

After a couple weeks, Ethan, Chad, and Mindy showed up to the apartment you currently lived in while your roommate was at her boyfriend’s to help you move.

“First, I want you guys to know that none of this mess is mine,” you said, as soon as you answered the front door for them.

“Whoa,” Chad said as he glanced around. “There’s no way you live with a girl.”

“Yeah, you’ll never guess what I found on the kitchen floor this morning,” you said, as Mindy started to think.

“With the mess, I’m going to guess…dead mouse?”

“Not even close,” you said, as you shook your head and shuddered as you thought about it. “It was a condom.”

“Like…in the wrapper or…?” Chad asked, as you, once again, shook your head.

“Used.”

“Ewwww,” Mindy said, cringing at the thought.  “Okay, is anything in the kitchen yours?”

“I already boxed that stuff up. Except the dishes that she’s refused to wash,” you said, as you led them to the living room. “The TV is mine, and that lamp,” you said, as you pointed, “But other than that, I really just have to worry about my room.”

“I think it’d be best to have all the heavy stuff in the living room so Ethan and I can worry about that,” Chad said, as you nodded and led them down the hall.

You had already packed up most of your room, which made it so easy for your new roommates to help you. Once Chad was carrying your mattress out and Mindy had ran out to get coffee, Ethan started to glance around your room. He noticed the hamper full of clothes in the corner, and he found himself inching closer towards it as he listened to you and Chad talk in the living room. Before he could stop himself, he grabbed a shirt off the top of the pile, inhaling its scent. He let out a deep breath before he went to put the shirt back in the hamper, before he noticed some black lace sticking out under a pair of your jeans. He snatched it out of the basket and put it in his pocket before he put the shirt back in it once he heard footsteps coming back down the hall.

“Did you need help with this?” Ethan asked, pointing to the basket, trying to make it not seem like he was being weird.

“Shit, I forgot to do laundry,” you groaned, as the realization hit him that the panties he’d grabbed had been worn. “I’ll carry that out.”

“Okay,” Ethan said, before Chad motioned for him to help with the dresser.

Later that day after you got your stuff moved into your new room, you flopped on your freshly made bed as Mindy popped in.

“So, I’m going to try to convince the guys to share a bathroom so you don’t have to share with Ethan,” she said, as you shrugged.

“It’s not a big deal,” you said, “I just hope he doesn’t mind all the girly stuff in the shower and the makeup and stuff.”

Ethan didn’t mind at all. In fact, he’d already been in the bathroom, smelling your body wash, your shampoo and conditioner. The skincare products you used. He realized that all those things together were the cause of the scent that made his head spin.

Later that night after you had takeout with everyone, Ethan excused himself to go to bed. He couldn’t stop thinking about your panties that were still in his pocket. Once he pulled them out, he ran his fingers over the lace before taking in your scent. He softly groaned before he dropped his pants, the thoughts of his face buried in your pussy making him harder by the second. He had them tightly clutched in his fist as he started to stroke himself with his free hand, small whimpers flying out of his mouth as he tried to imagine how soft your hand would feel wrapped around him. His bottom lip was in between his teeth once he started to get louder, the tip of his cock red as be brought himself closer to the edge. Just as he was about to cum, he deeply inhaled the scent of your panties one more time before he rubbed them against the tip of his cock, his thick, white ropes covering the lace.

You thought living with boys was going to be difficult, but your first month wasn’t bad. You were surprised at how clean they liked everything to be, and Ethan always put the toilet seat down. You started to get close to your dorky roommate, especially once you spent so much time studying together. You already thought he was cute, but once you actually got to know more about him, you realized that he was so sweet, so nice. He might’ve been a little shy, too, but he got to the point where he was doing cute little things to make you laugh.

One day, you went to do your laundry in the apartment. You walked over and were about to throw stuff in when you noticed clothes were already inside, and Ethan quickly rounded the corner with the rest of the stuff he needed to toss in.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he said, “You want me to take my stuff out? I can wash it later.”

“No, it’s fine, I’ll wait,” you said with a smile, before you noticed something familiar in the washer. “Oh,” you said, your cheeks turning pink as you reached out and grabbed your panties out of the washer. “Must’ve dropped these in.”

Ethan’s eyes grew wide as he noticed them in your hand, the realization hitting you that they were sticky.

“Eww, what is all over these?” you said, a disgusted look on your face as you tried to figure it out. You looked over to Ethan, his face bright red and his eyes huge, when you pieced it together. “Ethan…”

He just stared at you, the silence deafening as he tried to think of something, anything to say to you. He’d gotten away with stealing your panties for a month, but it was a way for him to feel close to you, and satisfy some of the sexual frustration he had whenever he thought about you.

“What’s on my panties?” you questioned, as he tensed up. “Actually, I don’t think I want to know.”

You tossed them back in the washer and walked past him and headed straight to the bathroom to wash your hands. When you went to your room and shut the door, Ethan huffed and tossed in the rest of stuff that was in his hands before he started the washer.

As the day went by, you couldn’t stop thinking about Ethan, and how you’d noticed that pairs of your panties had been going missing ever since you moved in. But then you’d randomly see them again, in the top drawer of your dresser after a few days. You didn’t think Ethan was like that, and it made you feel a little uneasy to live with him.

Later that night, you had to say something to him. You walked out of your room and glanced around the apartment for him, before you walked to his closed door and started to knock. He eased it open after a few seconds, his eyes connecting with yours through the small crack.

“Can we talk?” you asked, as he took a deep breath and hesitantly opened the door for you.

You walked in and took a seat on the side of the bed, your gaze on his floor as you tried to think of the right way to talk to him.

“You want me to leave the door open,” he asked, barely above a whisper as you shook your head no.

“If Mindy or Chad come home, I don’t want them to hear the conversation.”

“Thanks,” he mumbled, before he took a seat beside you. “I’m sorry.”

“Why were you stealing my panties?” you asked, as he took a deep breath.

“I can’t explain it without sounding like the total creep you probably already think I am.”

“So…that was what I thought it was on them,” you said, as you turned to look at him. He nodded, looking away to not meet your gaze.

“Again, I am so sorry,” he said, “I know you probably hate me, and I understand if you don’t want to be around me. I’ll stay in my room so you don’t have to see me.”

“I’m just a little confused,” you said softly, as he finally let his eyes connect with yours. “What’s so exciting about my panties?”

At that moment, one thing you said to Ethan started to play in his head. ‘Sex is overrated.’ He was questioning how much experience you actually had.

“Do you really not know or are you fucking with me?” he questioned.

“Like, does it feel good? How does it even turn you on?” you asked, curiously staring at him.

“They uh…yeah, it feels good when I uh…rub them on myself. And they smell like you.”

“They smell like fabric softener and laundry detergent,” you said, a small laugh slipping out as he shook his head.

“I haven’t been stealing clean ones…they smell like you.”

“Oh,” you said, as you looked away from him. “That turns you on?”

“You have no idea,” he said, and even though the conversation was uncomfortable, he was getting hard.

“Why are guys so weird?” you thought out loud, laughing a little as you shook your head. “So does that mean that you like me? Or you’re like…sexually attracted to me? I still don’t fully get it.”

“Both,” he said, “I think you’re so beautiful, and I’ve had so much fun with you this last month…but I also think about you in a different way, too. Ya know?”

“I’ve thought about you that way, too,” you admitted, “It’d kind of hard not to. I hear you through the walls all the time.”

“You’ve heard me?” he asked, a blush spreading to his cheeks. “I’m sorry, I know you hated when you heard your old roommate.”

“I like it when I hear you,” you said so softly that he barely heard it.

“Do you touch yourself when you hear me?”

Your breathing got heavier at his question, and Ethan noticed. You were getting so flustered under his gaze.

“I…I’ve tried to,” you said, as you took in the curious look on his face.

“Tried to?” he asked, “What do you mean?”

“Like…I know what feels good, but I can never get myself…there, if you know what I mean.”

“You’ve never made yourself cum?” he questioned, admiring how cute you looked as you got embarrassed.

“No one has.”

“No one?” he asked, his throat dry at the thought. “Are you a virgin?”

“No…but I’ve never enjoyed sex. Like, it feels good, but I think it’s so disappointing when you hear how amazing orgasms are and then I just never get one.”

Ethan expected the conversation that was happening to go so differently. He thought you hated him, but there you were, telling him that you’d tried to get yourself off when you’d heard him. The thought of him being the first one to make you cum had him salivating, but he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable if he offered.

“Have you ever…given someone an orgasm?” you asked, as he nodded. “I’m jealous of whoever she is.”

“Don’t be,” he said, scooting a little closer to you. “Fuck, I’d make you cum all the time if I could.”

“Really?” you smiled, “If you ever want to, I’m right next door,” you joked, as he smiled and shook his head.

“Hey, don’t offer that or I’ll be in your room every day.”

You were starting to squirm against his bed, your thighs rubbing together so subtly that he could barely tell. The sexual tension was so thick, your breathing getting heavier as you thought about how good Ethan would make you feel.

“I think I need to go back to my room,” you said, as you started to stand up. That’s when you glanced at Ethan’s lap, noticing the tent in his sweatpants.

“Do you really want to?” he asked, “Because if you want me to take care of you right now, I will.”

“Seriously?” you questioned, as he smiled and nodded.

“Come here,” he said, reaching out to grab your hands, pulling you to him.

Once Ethan leaned in to kiss you, he was almost taken aback by how quickly your lips were moving against his. He was desperate for you, but you were just as desperate for him. He matched your pace before he pushed you back on the bed, his hand running from your hip, up your ribs, until it landed on your breast. You gasped into the kiss once he squeezed it.

You had massive butterflies in your stomach once you felt his cock pressing against your thigh through his sweatpants, your head was spinning, but you were loving every second of it.

“Hey, I have an idea,” he said, once he pulled away to catch his breath. “I think we should go to your room.”

“Why?” you asked because you didn’t want to stop. You needed his lips back on yours.

“Because you have that full length mirror leaning against your wall,” he said, chuckling once you noticed the confused look on your face. “I want you to see what I’m doing to make you cum…in case I’m never here to help you.”

“Okay,” you said, as he stood up and grabbed your hands.

Once he opened his bedroom door, he listened to make sure he didn’t hear anyone else in the apartment before he walked out and to your room next door. He shut and locked your bedroom door once he made it inside, before he pulled you into another kiss. His hands held onto your hips until they started to rub against the flesh under the hem of your shirt. He kept inching it further and further up, until he pulled away to pull it over your head. His lips went back to yours as he reached around to unhook your bra, his hands squeezing at your breasts once they were free.

His mouth moved to your neck as his hands explored your body, before they snaked under the waistband of your leggings. He moved them down over your hips as you shimmied out of them, leaving you in nothing but your panties. He recognized them as the first pair he ever stole, the black lacy ones.

“Fuck,” he mumbled, as his hand moved to rub you over your panties. The material was soaked as you moaned at the feeling. “That feel good?”

“Yes,” you said, quickly nodding your head just in case he needed the extra confirmation. “So good.”

“I hate that I have to take these off you,” he said, as he inched the fabric down your thighs, leaving you completely nude in front of him. “I’m going to sit on the floor in front of the mirror, and I want you to sit between my legs.”

“Okay,” you said, as he took a seat on the floor, his legs spreading for you to sit. You did as he said, looking at him in the mirror as he spread your legs, placing your feet on either side of his legs on the floor.

You watched him lick two of his fingers before he placed them against your clit, rubbing slow circles. Your eyes stayed on the reflection of his hand, your mouth parting as you started to breathe faster. He added a little more pressure as you fully relaxed back into his chest, the softest moans slipping out as he went a little faster.

“Ethaaan,” you whined out, the noise quickly becoming his new favorite sound.

“Shh, I don’t know if anyone else is here,” he said softly, “Just keep your legs spread for me, baby.”

He rubbed a few more circles on your clit before his fingers moved lower, one of them slipping inside you. He pumped it in and out for a minute before he added another, as you angled your neck to look up at him. He leaned down to kiss you as his fingers moved, before he started to mumble against your lips.

“If you ever finger yourself, this…” he said, as he curved them just right, a low moan flying out of your mouth, “Is the spot that needs attention. Okay baby?”

“Okay,” you whimpered, as he moved his fingers faster.

The sounds you were making just kept getting louder, and Ethan was just hoping and praying that no one else was home. One of your hands clung to his thigh as your other hand wrapped around his wrist, as you started to feel…different. It felt so good, and the last thing you wanted was for him to stop. Once he went even faster, the squelching sound of your wet pussy and your whimpers filling the room, your legs were trying so hard to close as your toes curled against the carpet on the floor.

“Oh my god,” you moaned, your fluttering eyes watching his hand in the mirror as your body started to tingle.

“Cum for me baby,” he encouraged, as you finally let that feeling wash over your body. You were jolting, your eyes screwed shut as his fingers started to slow, his free hand roaming your chest as you let out all your sounds.

Once you fully relaxed in his arms, he placed a kiss to the top of your head as your hazy eyes connected with his in the mirror.

“Now you can’t say no one’s ever made you cum,” he said with a smile, as he slid his fingers out of you. “Did it feel good?”

“That was better than I thought it was going to be,” you said, “Thanks, Ethan.”

“You’re welcome.”

You sat there in silence for a minute as you felt his cock pressing against you, and you wanted so badly to take care of him, until you heard commotion in the apartment.

“Hey, guysss,” Chad yelled, as he walked down the hall.

You tensed up as you glanced at your door, before Ethan whispered, “It’s okay, I locked it.”

You relaxed again before Chad started to yell again, “Tara’s here!”

You forgot about hanging out with Mindy and Tara for the night, and you didn’t want to pull away from Ethan, but you hesitantly did, your legs wobbling as you tried to stand. Ethan got up to help you, and once you got your bearings, he started to grab your clothes off the floor for you.

“Thanks,” you said, before you noticed him pick up your panties.

“No, thank you,” he joked, a smirk playing on his lips as he backed towards your door. “I’ll see you when you get back in the morning.”

“I better still have panties in that top drawer when I get back.”

[dykeishh]

lessons in lust

ellie williams x fem reader

synopsis: ellie meets with her hot tutor for calculus and somehow ends with an anatomy lesson! 

CW: 18+ MINORS DNI, dealer!ellie (throwback asf), tutor!reader, slightly dom!ellie, cunnilingus, public sex (they don’t get caught tho), a bit of teasing, both reader and ellie are just sluts basically. not proofread :3

a/n: heyyy the way i wrote this in literally 2023 and it's just been in my notes… hence slight dealer!ellie appearance LOL its also barely relevant to the story but I just think tutor!reader x dealer!ellie is a hot pairing. also ellie being lowkey dominant in this is so funny cuz i'm really in my sub!ellie era… but its still hot honestly. anyways hope y'all enjoy!

——————————————————————

ellie sighed as she looked at her current course score, knowing she was about to fail her calculus class if she didn’t start getting decent grades soon. she cursed herself for picking astrophysics as a major, recalling how she ‘thought it sounded cool’ and failed to consider that she would need to take difficult math classes.

she didn’t hate it, but she was falling behind as she allowed her ‘business’ to take up most of her time. it was easy to get caught up, and she was pretty proud of herself once the money really started raking in, but was quickly humbled when she remembered she couldn’t afford to retake a foundational course to her major. 

that was how ellie found herself tapping her shoes against the library chair, waiting for her calculus tutor to arrive. she blew out a sigh from her pursed lips as she scrolled mindlessly through her phone, in a daze—so much so that she hadn’t noticed you walk up to the round table until you said, “hi, are you ellie?”

she looked up, a bit startled by your voice in the quiet library, especially because she had picked a spot in the back, away from other people and their chatters. 

she took a second to respond, partially because she had expected some kind of geeky math nerd to be her tutor--especially since it was through the school. however, the main reason for her delayed response was because she knew you.

well, knew is an overstatement, you were a bit of a crush that ellie had in one of her classes. she had never made a move to talk to you, but she often indulged herself by staring at your legs, barely covered by the short skirts you wore to class, and fantasizing about the sounds you’d make with her face between them. she noticed you were wearing a similar skirt today and her mind already started racing, but she quickly snapped out if it. 

“hi, yeah that’s me.”

“i’m y/n, i’ll be working with you today,” you said, smiling at her. she felt her heart rate increase, but she made sure to play it cool. “oh, nice, thanks.” you gave her a slight smile aam pulled your chair in next to her. 

“so, where should we start?”

—————————

after several minutes of going over the subjects taught in the course, ellie’s mind had started to wander back to your short skirt and your words faded into the background as she wondered how quiet she could be while fucking you in the library. you can feel her eyeing you up as you spoke, and try to keep your voice steady regardless of how nervous she’s making you feel. how are you supposed to teach her while she’s practically undressing you with her eyes?

“so, can you show me how you could solve this kind of problem?”, you ask. after a few moments of silence and ellie scratching her head, you giggle, noticing she looks a bit spaced out.

“jeez, am i that boring of a tutor that you’re zoning out?”, you tease. she chuckles and shakes her head, “no, not at all. these kinds of problems just confuse me is all, i really don’t know where to start.”

you scoot your chair closer to her and aren’t sure if you imagine hearing her breath hitch. 

“okay so, show me exactly where you’re having problems."

—————————

“holy shit. you’re a fucking genius. or a saint. both—whatever. i can’t believe i actually understand this,” ellie scoffs in disbelief. 

you smile at ellie and and shrug, “you had it in you. sometimes it just takes a bit of a push. i’m sure you’ll do great on your tests.”

ellie looks at you with a suddenly soft expression, suddenly realizing her appreciation for your help and being so patient with her. she also realizes that she might have a thing for nerds. she would be lying if she didn’t find your intelligence extremely sexy, as if you weren’t already hot enough.

“so, how am i going to repay you for this, y/n?” she asks, leaning towards you and brushing a hair out of your face. 

you let out a shy laugh at her sudden boldness, caught off guard by the cute girl’s fingers brushing against your skin. 

funnily enough, you had heard about ellie before. there was a small number of queer students on campus, and an even smaller circle of queer girls. and as it usually happens, lots of you knew of each other. in fact, you and ellie were both hooking up with the same girl, which was how you knew about her. just based on this, you assumed she was a bit of a womanizer, and her obvious flirting with you now seemed to align with this idea. 

but you aren’t put off by this—in fact, it only makes her more intriguing to you. behind your studious math-nerd image, you aren’t all that innocent either. 

“please, i already get paid to tutor. i’m just doing my job, so you don’t have to thank me any special way,” you reply, amusement laced in your tone.

“i know i don’t have to,” she states simply, “i want to. you helped me out, and i think it’s only right that i return the favor.” as she says this, ellie places her hand on your thigh, slowly moving it up as she looks into your eyes, waiting for a reaction. 

you raise an eyebrow at her, but once you smirk, ellie knows it’s game over. you lean in forward and lower your voice. “y’know, i think you might be right. i did, after all, save your grade in this class didn’t i?” 

you decide you’ll play along and see where this goes. after all, she was fucking hot. when she smirks at your response, you almost start drooling. 5 minutes ago, you were focused on integrals, but now all your brain can think is how fucking badly you want those long fingers to keep moving up your leg. 

“so how exactly are you going to repay me?” you ask, although you already had an idea of what she had in mind. 

even though ellie was hoping for this situation, she couldn’t believe you were actually down. when she realizes this, it goes straight to her clit. was she really about to fuck her hot tutor? 

ellie suddenly starts lowering herself under the desk.

“i think i can help you better down here.”

you just about come right in that moment, looking down at her mischievous green eyes from beneath you. your breath hitches and you look around to make sure that nobody is watching. 

“fuck. that’s so hot. okay… you just-you have to tell me if i’m being too loud, okay?”

ellie nods and can’t seem to wipe that smirk off her face as she crawls forward and positions her face so she could look under your skirt. you spread your legs slightly for her access and you can immediately feel her hot breath on your inner thighs, causing you to shudder. she looks up at you, making direct eye contact as she leaves wet kisses on your thighs, teasing you, even in this moment where she should be going quickly as to not get caught.

you bite your lip when she drags her middle finger over your clothed heat, then slowly rubs your clit through the pink fabric. you hear her curse to herself and you feel yourself getting wetter as each excruciating moment passes. after a few moments, she pulls your panties to the side to view your soaked pussy. 

“you’re already so wet,” she quietly groans. you almost whine when she brings her mouth so close to your center, looking up at you from her hooded eyelids and just holding herself there to tease you just a little bit longer. 

ellie takes a mental snapshot of your desperate expression as you look down at her, with your lips between your teeth and eyebrows furrowed. but she can’t wait any longer herself. needing to taste you, she licks a long strip from up your pussy and you immediately find yourself choking back a moan. 

ellie seems pleased by your reaction and starts leaving wet kisses on your clit, sucking lightly as she pulls away and alternating with gentle flicks of her tongue. its driving you absolutely crazy how gentle and slow she’s being, and you start to roll your hips to satiate her relentless teasing. she knows that it’s not enough but she’s also aware of how much more wet it’s making you. 

she sucks a little harder on your clit and your head falls back as you gasp in pleasure. then she pulls away, lightly smacking your thigh. 

“uh uh, keep looking at me. i want you to watch me while i make you feel good, baby,” she murmurs before she dives back in.

you pull your head back down to watch her with your mouth slightly agape and see her low-lidded eyes are clouded with lust. your back arches as you feel her the pressure of her tongue increase and watch her bob her head up and down under your skirt. ellie isn’t holding back and you can hear the messy, wet noises her mouth makes against your cunt in the quiet library. everything about the situation was borderline pornographic, and you almost feel dizzy from how much it was turning you on. without stopping her mouth movements, you feel her one of her fingers rub against your entrance before plunging deep into your cunt, causing you to let out a little moan. her eyes flick up back to yours, giving you a dangerous look as a warning. one of your hands clasps over your mouth to muffle your sounds as best you can. 

“feels good, doesn’t it?” she whispers, and you nod in response, causing her to tsk at you. “i want to hear you say it. tell me how good i’m making you feel,” she demands, slipping in a second finger. 

when you remove your hand, you accidentally let out another small whimper, and you respond as best as you can, “it f-feels so good. fuck, it’s too good,” you whisper, eyes rolling back into your skull.

satisfied with your answer, she reattaches her mouth to your clit and sucks harshly, forcing you to bite your fingers to hold back your sounds. her fingers speed up as well, and you can hear the lewd sounds of your wetness even louder now. you’re getting dangerously close, and she can tell by how your insides clench around her fingers. 

“s-shit, i’m close, ellie,” you half-whisper, half-whine. 

“i know, baby.”

she continues her assault with her tongue and fingers, doing her best to drive you crazy. she can feel her own wetness growing between her legs as she listens to your muffled sounds. when she sees your face, all fucked out and desperate, she nearly cums on that alone. “you gonna come for me?”

“mhmm,” you whimper, unable to respond properly as your mind and body are completely clouded with pleasure. your hands find her hair, needing somewhere to grab as the intensity became too much for you, causing her to moan into you, and the vibrations of her voice push you over the edge.

your body freezes up completely for a moment, then jolts as your release hits you, hard. you can’t help but moan and your legs shake as she keeps her pace, prolonging your orgasm for as long as she can. when the overstimulation becomes too much, you push her head away from you causing her lips to detach from you with a pop. you gasp for air and your body trembles as you come down from your high. 

when your vision unblurs, you see her still between your legs, lips and chin covered in a combination of your wetness and her spit, and watch her smirk before she cleans her fingers off with her mouth. it’s the most erotic view you’ve ever seen—you could cum a second time.

she helps you put your panties back on and slowy rises from under the table, looking around to make sure the coast is still clear. she chuckles when she sees you still slumped in your chair, recovering and wraps her arm around your waist to help you up. 

“how was that for repayment?” she teases.

you laugh, still out of breath, hoping that she’d be setting up more sessions with you in the future.

[lovemni]

⋆.˚ ⚾️ ⌇ 승민 : AS WE ARE ── a usual noon after uni, at your usual spot at one of the unoccupied fields of the small town. however, one day, it turned out you weren't the only person finding calm in the field anymore.

index | next ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎

𓍯 baseballcapt!seungmin ʚଓ fem!reader ：（ 𝒾 ）7.6k ── ༯ TWOSHOT (?) uni au, slow paced & slow burn, curiosity, fluff, strangers to friends to ???, small town, angst, language, skz ensemble, very long, y/n is a foreigner/mixed ethnicity. ⸝⸝𓂃 LiBRARY . /ᐠ.ꞈ.ᐟ\ྀིྀི

yani's note ˖˙ ᰋ baseball seungmin. i repeat, BASEBALL SEUNGMIN >3< !! had this sitting in my drafts for way too long. so there may be more part(s) to this, because i certainly cannot put 15k+ words at once.. (╥﹏╥) . skzhop is out, and i'm in love with this song ever since the tour began, and the teaser. so here's a fic because i was desperate. also lowkey have mixed feelings about this fic, maybe it's too slow and uninteresting? (｡>﹏<) don't know, but well still hope you enjoy reading ! comments, likes and reblogs are always appreciated ! happy reading <3

the town was as calm as ever, the streets bathed in the soft, golden glow of a sunset that seemed to stretch on forever. the fading light brushed the buildings with a warm, almost nostalgic hue, casting long shadows that whispered of days gone by. it was one of those places where time didn’t hurry. you could almost feel the hours stretching out like elastic, letting the moments linger and settle into your bones.

people moved through the streets slowly, as if they had all the time in the world, some with their heads down, lost in their thoughts, others with eyes up, catching the last rays of the day.

the air was still, but it carried the faint scent of fresh grass and distant wood smoke. a few birds called out from the trees lining the streets, the kind of birds that didn’t seem to mind the quiet, the kind that you could almost hear thinking. the small shops, with their cozy little displays, looked like they could have been frozen in time—hand-painted signs swaying gently in the breeze, windows fogging up as the night began to cool. you could hear the distant chatter of a couple walking home, their voices blending into the soft rustling of the leaves.

even the cars, few as they were, rolled down the narrow streets at a leisurely pace, their tires humming softly on the asphalt. there was no rush, no hurry here. it was one of those rare places where people stopped to chat at the corner, where you could hear the laughter of children spilling from an open window, where everyone seemed to know everyone else, even if they didn't.

everything moved in its own rhythm here, the world spinning a little slower, like the way a good song seems to linger long after it’s finished. it wasn’t that there was nothing to do; it was more like there was no need to rush toward anything. life just seemed to breathe at its own pace, savoring the small moments, the everyday details that most people would overlook. and in this quiet, peaceful town, those little moments mattered the most.

she liked it that way. she appreciated the quiet, the simplicity of it all. it gave her space to think, to breathe, and to write.

that evening, the notebook in her bag felt heavier than usual. she was late to her usual spot—an old wooden bench with a matching table under a canopy of trees at the edge of the town’s recreational grounds. it wasn’t much, just a small patch of greenery with an equally small baseball field. the bench faced away from the field, toward the trees and the town beyond, but she had always been drawn to the way it felt tucked away, like her own secret place.

by the time she arrived, the sky had begun its shift to dusky purples and soft blues. she slowed her steps when you saw someone in the field. it was rare for anyone to be here at this hour.

a supposed guy stood near the netted boundary of the baseball field, his posture relaxed but focused as the fading light of the day cast long shadows across the grass. his black hair, slightly messy and fluffy, curled around his forehead in soft waves, contrasting with the sleek black cap pulled low over his eyes, hiding much of his expression. though not particularly tall or imposing, there was something effortlessly attractive about him—something that drew the eye without trying.

his left hand was occupied with a well-worn black glove, snug against his fingers, the leather creaking softly as he shifted his grip. he tossed the baseball into the air, its white surface catching the last of the sunlight before it descended, spinning in his palm with a fluid grace. with a practiced snap, he caught it again, the sound of the leather cracking as it hit the glove.

his movements were calm but precise, like someone lost in the rhythm of repetition, tossing the ball once more into the air. this time, with a slight tilt of his head, he threw it toward an imaginary target. it sailed through the air, its flight perfect, before hitting the ground with a faint, echoing thud. yet, even as he went through the motions, his gaze drifted, as though his mind was miles away, distracted by thoughts that had little to do with the game.

she hesitated. she hadn’t expected company.

she moved toward the bench anyway, settling into the usual spot. the boy hadn’t noticed her yet—or if he had, he just didn’t show it. his focus was absolute, each throw measured and deliberate. she pulled out her notebook but found herself glancing at him more instead of writing.

he moved like someone used to just.. being. there was something almost distant in his movements, a depth she couldn’t quite place. she tried not to stare, but the way he kept practicing, as though he was trying to lose himself in the rhythm, held her attention.

finally, she gave in to the curiosity, like always. she set the notebook aside, picked up the novel she'd been reading, and flipped it open. but even as she read, her gaze kept drifting back to him.

the boy threw another pitch. the ball ricocheted off the fence with a dull thud.

"do you always practice alone?"

her hesitant yet curious voice cut through the quiet like a feather brushing the air.

the boy froze mid-motion, his arm still raised from the throw. slowly, he turned toward her. his cap shadowed most of his face, but she could see his brows furrowed in confusion. he didn’t seem angry, just surprised—like he wasn’t used to being spoken to, let alone noticed.

"usually," he replied after a moment. his voice was quiet, slightly rough around the edges but not unkind.

she smiled faintly. "it must be peaceful," she said, voice as soft as the breeze that rustled through the trees. "just you and the field."

the boy tilted his head slightly, studying her. for a long moment, he didn’t respond.

"sometimes," he said finally, his tone nonchalant. he adjusted the brim of his cap and turned back to the field, tossing the baseball into his glove.

she watched him in silence, her curiosity growing. there was something about him—something quiet but heavy, like he was carrying more than he wanted to share.

"you’re.. good, at it," she spoke again after a while.

he paused, glancing over his shoulder at her figure. "at what?"

"pitching," she replied simply.

this time, he didn’t look away so quickly. his eyes lingered on her, studying her with a hint of skepticism, as if trying to figure out if she meant it.

"it’s just practice," he said, finally breaking the silence.

"practice makes perfect," she said lightly.

his lips twitched, almost like he wanted to smile but didn’t quite manage it. instead, he shrugged and turned back to his routine.

she picked up her book again but kept sneaking glances at him. she didn’t know his name, didn’t know why he was here or what kept him coming back to this empty field, but something told her, that she would see him again.

and that thought—unexpected and soft—made her chest feel a little lighter.

the evening deepened, the world around them growing quieter, the coolness of the night settling over the ground. y/n had returned to her novel, but her eyes followed the boy more often than her fingers turned the pages. she wasn’t sure why she stayed so focused on him, why his presence intrigued her so much. maybe it was the rhythm of his movements or the way he seemed so lost in his own world.

the boy threw the ball again, a sharp and clean arc that hit the fence with a satisfying thud. he stood still for a moment, watching the ball bounce weakly and roll to a stop on the grass. then he went to retrieve it, his footsteps slow and heavy.

when he straightened and turned back toward the center of the field, yani spoke again.

"why here?"

he stopped mid-step, his body slightly stiff as he glanced at her. "what do you mean?"

she closed her book, setting it carefully on the table. her voice remained soft, as though afraid to disturb the peace of the moment. "i mean, why do you practice here? the town doesn’t even have a real baseball team, right?"

the boy’s brows furrowed, and his grip on the ball tightened. "it’s quiet," he said after a pause. 

“and well.. this is probably the only maintained baseball field here.”

“a-ah, right. guess i didn’t think of that.” she awkwardly smiled.

she tilted her head slightly, curious about the underlying weight in his tone. "still, quiet can be nice," she agreed. "but do you want it to be quiet?"

he didn’t answer right away. instead, he looked down at the ball in his hand, turning it over slowly. then, almost too softly for her to hear, he murmured, "it’s better that way."

the words hung between them, laced with something she couldn’t quite name—resignation, maybe, or exhaustion. she studied him for a moment, her gaze lingering on the lines of his face, the way his shoulders seemed to carry the world.

"do you like it?" she asked, her voice gentle.

he looked up at her, his expression unreadable. "what?"

"baseball," she clarified. "do you like playing it?"

his lips parted as if to answer immediately, but he stopped himself. he glanced back at the field, his gaze distant. "i used to," he said finally.

she frowned slightly. "used to?"

he shrugged, the motion heavy. "i don’t know. i guess i still do." he hesitated, as though debating whether to say more. "it’s… complicated."

she didn’t push. instead, she rested her chin on her hand, watching him with quiet curiosity. "it must mean something to you if you’re here every day," she said after a moment.

his head snapped toward her, his expression sharp for the first time. "how do you know i’m here every day?"

y/n blinked, startled by the sudden edge in his tone. "i don’t," she admitted quickly. "i’ve never been here this late before. i just assumed…"

the boy stared at her for a moment, his gaze narrowing slightly as if trying to gauge her sincerity. then, with a soft exhale, he looked away. "sorry," he muttered.

"it’s okay," she said, her tone even softer than before.

for a while, neither of them spoke. the boy resumed his practice, and the girl opened her book again, though her mind wandered.

when he finally broke the silence, his voice was quieter, almost hesitant. "why are you here?"

"here?"

"yeah," he said, gesturing vaguely toward her bench. "at this time. you said you don’t usually come this late."

she smiled faintly. "i lost track of time," she admitted. "i was at uni, writing, and didn’t realize how late it was until i looked outside."

"you write?" he asked, his tone more curious now.

she nodded. "mostly in my notebook. nothing fancy. just thoughts, sometimes stories."

he tilted his head slightly, as if considering her answer. "why here, though?"

"it’s peaceful,"

his gaze flickered to her for a moment before he turned back to the field. "yeah," he said quietly. "it is."

the minutes stretched on, the silence between them no longer uncomfortable. she found herself stealing glances at him again, wondering about the story behind his tired eyes and quiet demeanor.

eventually, the boy pulled off his glove and tucked it under his arm. he picked up the baseball and walked toward the bench, stopping a few feet away.

"i’m seungmin," he said, his voice low but steady.

she looked up at him, surprised but pleased by the introduction. "y/n," she replied, her tone warm. "well, actually, y/f/n. but everyone just calls me y/n."

seungmin’s brows lifted slightly. "y/f/n?" he repeated, the unfamiliar name rolling off his tongue awkwardly but not unkindly.

she nodded, a faint blush creeping up her cheeks. "it’s… a little hard to pronounce."

he didn’t say anything for a moment, just looked at her with a quiet intensity. then, unexpectedly, he said, "it’s nice."

she blinked, her blush deepening. "thank you."

seungmin nodded once, then glanced at the sky. "i should go," he said, his tone reluctant.

"okay," she said, her voice soft.

he hesitated for a moment before turning to leave, his footsteps slow and deliberate.

she watched him go, her chest feeling oddly warm. she had a feeling this wouldn’t be the last time they spoke. and for the first time in a while, she found herself looking forward to tomorrow.

the night deepened as she finally packed up her things. the notebook went into her bag first, followed by her novel. she cast a quick glance at the baseball field. it was empty now; seungmin had left without another word after their brief exchange.

she slung her bag over her shoulder and began walking down the narrow path that led out of the recreational grounds. the cool air brushed against her skin, carrying with it the faint scent of pine and earth. she didn’t feel like going home just yet, even though it was late. there was something about the stillness of the town at night that made her want to wander.

the streets were quiet yet full of a few people here and there, as they always were after dark. a handful of lights flickered in the windows of small shops, and the occasional sound of a distant dog barking broke the silence. the old cobblestone streets felt comforting beneath her feet, and the familiar, worn-down charm of the town enveloped her like a warm embrace.

she passed by the tiny bookstore she frequented, its lights dimmed for the evening. she slowed, peering through the glass at the rows of books stacked neatly on wooden shelves. it was one of her favorite places, but tonight, she didn’t feel like going in.

instead, she walked further into the heart of the town, where the smell of roasted chestnuts lingered in the air from a street vendor’s cart that had long since closed. her thoughts drifted back to seungmin—the quiet boy with the tired eyes.

he had been so distant, so closed off, and yet… there was something about him that made her curious. she found herself wondering if he’d return to the field tomorrow, or if tonight had been some sort of exception.

eventually, her wandering brought her back to the residential streets. the houses here were modest but cozy, with little gardens that overflowed with wildflowers in the summer. she stopped in front of one of the smaller homes—a single-story house with a tiled roof and a little swing in the front yard.

the warm glow of light spilled out from the windows, and she could see the silhouettes of her grandparents moving inside. y/n smiled to herself as she stepped through the front gate.

“y/n, you’re late!” her grandmother’s voice called out the moment she opened the door.

“i know, sorry, gramma,” she said with a sheepish grin, slipping off her shoes. “i lost track of time.”

her grandmother appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel. she was a petite woman with kind eyes that crinkled at the corners when she smiled. “you shouldn’t be wandering around alone at night,” she scolded gently, though her tone was more worried than angry.

“let the girl breathe,” her grandfather said from the living room. he was seated in his favorite chair, a book resting open on his lap. “she’s young. young people like to roam.”

“i know that, but—” her grandmother shot him a look before turning back to their granddaughter. “it’s not safe.”

“it’s our town, grandma,” she said softly, setting her bag down by the door. “nothing ever happens here.”

“that doesn’t mean you should be careless,” her grandmother replied, though the worry in her voice had softened.

her grandfather chuckled, closing his book. “your grandma forgets that she used to sneak out of her parents’ house to meet me when we were young. remember that?”

her grandmother’s face flushed a faint pink, and she swatted at him with the dish towel. “that’s different!”

she laughed, the sound light and melodic. she loved moments like this, when her grandparents bantered like a young couple. they’d been married for over fifty years, and yet they still looked at each other with the same kind of warmth and affection that she imagined only existed in movies.

“are you hungry, dear?” her grandmother asked, turning her attention back to her. “i saved some stew for you.”

“starving,” she admitted, her stomach growling faintly as if to emphasize her point.

her grandmother smiled, motioning for her to sit at the kitchen table. “i’ll heat it up for you.”

as she sat down, her grandfather joined her, pulling out the chair across from her. “so,” he said, folding his hands on the table. “what were you doing out so late? writing again?”

she nodded, pulling her notebook out of her bag and setting it on the table. “and reading. i went to the grounds like always, but i stayed a little longer tonight.”

her grandmother set a steaming bowl of soup in front of her and raised a brow. “why longer?”

“there was.. someone else there,” she said casually, picking up her spoon.

her grandfather’s brow lifted. “someone else? that doesn’t happen often.”

“exactly what i thought,,” she agreed, stirring her soup. “he was practicing baseball. i think his name was.. seungmin..?”

her grandmother hummed thoughtfully as she sat down beside them. “is he a friend of yours?”

“not really. i just talked to him a bit.”

her grandfather leaned back in his chair, a small smile playing on his lips. “well, if he’s practicing baseball alone, he must be dedicated. or stubborn.”

“yeah,” she chuckled softly, “he was good at pitching, though, even if it was all alone. though.. there was something about him– he seemed a bit distant,”

“maybe he was lonely?”

“maybe..? but i don't think he wanted.. company. at least he didn't seem like it.”

she glanced at her grandparents, at the way her grandfather’s hand rested over her grandmother’s on the table, their fingers lightly intertwined. 

“do you think.. distant people want to be left alone?” she asked quietly.

her grandmother tilted her head, studying her with a thoughtful expression. “sometimes,” she said. “but not always. sometimes, they just don’t know how to ask for company.”

her grandfather nodded. “or they’re afraid of being hurt.”

her chest tightened slightly at their words. she thought of seungmin again, of his quiet replies and the way he’d said, it’s better that way.

“do you think he’ll come back?” she asked softly, more to herself than to her grandparents.

her grandmother smiled. “if he does, maybe you’ll be the company he doesn’t know he needs.”

she looked down at her soup, her mind drifting back to the empty baseball field. she didn’t know why she cared so much about a boy she’d just met, but a part of her hoped her grandmother was right.

and maybe, she’d have another chance to talk to him tomorrow.

the school courtyard was buzzing with the usual morning chatter—students gathered in clusters, discussing assignments, weekend plans, and the latest town gossip. y/n preferred to stay out of the bustle, so she slipped through the gates quietly, her guitar case slung over her shoulder.

her steps were light and deliberate as she made her way to the benches near the main building. it was her usual spot, tucked under the shade of a large tree where the morning light filtered through the leaves, creating dappled patterns on the ground.

she set her guitar case down carefully, adjusted her bag, and took out a small notebook. it was her sanctuary before the day’s classes began—a moment to gather her thoughts and jot down melodies or ideas.

“still writing your ideas away, y/nnie?”

the deep voice startled her, though it carried a warmth she recognized instantly. she looked up to see felix standing nearby, his hands tucked into the pockets of his blazer. his light blond hair fell slightly into his eyes, and a small smile played on his lips.

“maybe.. it's called sudden inspiration,” y/n replied softly, chuckling back.

felix chuckled, his voice low and soothing. “blah blah, same thing?” he dropped his bag onto the bench and sat beside her, leaning back with an air of easy calm. “so, what’s the plan for today? more serenading the trees with your guitar?”

y/n laughed, shaking her head. “not today. i’ve got a quiz later, and i promised myself i’d focus on studying.”

felix raised an eyebrow, his expression teasing. “you? worrying about a quiz? you’re probably already over-prepared.”

“maybe,” she admitted, her voice soft but carrying a hint of amusement. “but it’s better than being under-prepared.”

“fair point,” he conceded, glancing at her notebook. “what’s that? a new song?”

y/n hesitated for a moment before nodding. “just some scribbling. i don’t know if it’ll turn into anything yet.”

felix tilted his head, genuinely curious. “can i hear it sometime?”

“maybe,” she said, her tone playful. “if i ever finish it.”

felix smiled, leaning back against the bench. the two of them fell into a comfortable silence, the kind that didn’t need to be filled with unnecessary words. y/n appreciated that about felix—he didn’t push her to talk more than she wanted to, and his calm demeanor matched her own.

the warning bell rang, breaking the stillness.

“guess it’s time to face the day,” felix said, standing and slinging his bag over one shoulder.

y/n nodded, gathering her things. “see you at lunch?”

“of course,” he replied, giving her a small wave as he headed toward his classroom.

y/n watched him go for a moment before making her way to her own class. the halls were already filling with students, but she kept her head down, focusing on the soft melody still playing in her mind.

as she entered the classroom and took her seat by the window, she felt a sense of calm settle over her. the morning had been kind to her so far, and she was determined to carry that peace with her through the rest of the day.

after school, y/n packed her things and left the classroom with a light heart. the day had gone smoothly—no unexpected quizzes, no overwhelming assignments. she wasn’t one to feel bogged down by studies anyway; she took things in stride, balancing her love for learning with the simple joys of life.

her classmates were still lingering in the halls, some chatting in groups, others heading to cram school or their part-time jobs. y/n, however, had a different destination in mind. she slung her bag over her shoulder, her guitar case in hand, and stepped into the soft afternoon sun.

the streets were quiet as usual, the warm light casting long shadows on the cobblestones. y/n hummed softly to herself as she walked, her mind already drifting to the peace she always found at the field. she loved how the small town seemed to pause during this time of day, giving her a moment to feel completely at ease.

when she reached the recreational grounds, her gaze immediately swept toward the baseball field. it was empty, just as she had expected. the chain-link fence glinted in the sunlight, and the grass inside looked lush and green, untouched since yesterday.

she let out a soft sigh of relief.

placing her guitar case down at her usual bench by the trees, y/n settled in and opened her notebook. she had planned to study a little—reviewing notes for an upcoming essay—but the quiet of the field had a way of pulling her toward more creative pursuits.

instead of her school notes, she found herself flipping to a blank page, her pen poised over the paper as she searched for the melody she had been humming earlier. she tapped the pen lightly against her chin, letting the rhythm of the breeze and the rustling of the leaves guide her thoughts.

the minutes ticked by, and she found herself smiling faintly, not from anything in particular but from the simple pleasure of the moment. here, with the sunlight filtering through the trees and the town’s quiet hum in the background, everything felt just right.

after scribbling down a few lines of lyrics, she glanced toward the field again. she wondered, briefly, if the boy from yesterday would return. seungmin, she remembered. he had been so quiet, so distant, but there had been something about him that lingered in her mind.

shaking her head, she focused back on her notebook. it didn’t matter if he showed up or not. this was her time, her place, and she was perfectly content to spend it alone.

for now, the field was hers, and she intended to make the most of it.

as she continued her thing, the faint sound of footsteps on the gravel path caught her attention. curious, she glanced toward the baseball field, and her gaze landed on a figure she recognized immediately.

seungmin.

he wasn’t wearing his cap today, and his hair caught the sunlight as he walked toward the field, his usual baseball glove in one hand and a ball in the other. he moved with a quiet confidence, his posture relaxed but purposeful.

y/n blinked, momentarily surprised. he wasn’t usually here at this hour. she debated for a moment whether to say anything or let him pass unnoticed. but then, she thought about how reserved he had been the day before and decided to break the silence.

“came early today?”

her soft voice carried across the space, and seungmin’s steps slowed. he turned his head slightly, his dark eyes meeting hers with a flicker of recognition.

for a moment, he seemed caught off guard, but then he nodded, his expression neutral. “yeah.”

y/n tilted her head, her curiosity getting the better of her. “why?”

seungmin shrugged, looking away as he tossed the baseball lightly into the air and caught it. “no reason.”

she studied him for a moment, noting the way he avoided meeting her gaze. there was something almost… guarded about him. “it’s nice to have company,” she said lightly, hoping to make him feel less self-conscious.

seungmin glanced at her briefly before walking to the field. “don’t mind me. just doing my thing.”

y/n chuckled softly and turned back to her notebook, her pen tapping gently against the page. she couldn’t help but keep an eye on him, though. he moved with precision, practicing throws toward an imaginary batter. his form was sharp, his focus unwavering, and it was clear he wasn’t just idly passing the time.

after a while, she spoke again, her voice cutting gently through the quiet. “are you preparing for something? a tournament?”

the question made him freeze mid-throw. his posture stiffened slightly, and he stood still for a moment before lowering the ball.

“no,” he said, his tone flat. “it’s just a hobby. a way to pass the time.”

y/n frowned slightly, sensing the subtle shift in his mood. the energy around him seemed to dull, his earlier ease replaced by something heavier. she wanted to ask more but thought better of it.

instead, she offered a soft smile. “you’re really good for it to be just a hobby.”

he turned to look at her, his expression unreadable. “thanks,” he said simply, his voice quieter than before. then, as if to change the subject, he added, “what about you? always writing in that notebook?”

y/n’s smile widened slightly at the question. “most of the time,” she admitted. “it helps me clear my head.”

“what do you write?” he asked, his tone casual but with a trace of curiosity.

“songs,” she said, her voice soft but sure. “sometimes poems. whatever comes to mind.”

seungmin nodded, tossing the ball gently into the air again. “that’s… cool.”

they fell into a comfortable silence after that, with y/n returning to her notebook and seungmin continuing his throws. despite his earlier reticence, he didn’t seem as distant now.

around 3:30, y/n noticed a few figures approaching the field. she tilted her head, watching as a group of boys made their way toward seungmin.

“hey, cap!” one of them called, grinning as he waved.

seungmin turned, his demeanor shifting slightly. he gave a brief nod of acknowledgment and tossed the ball toward the boy, who caught it with ease.

y/n blinked, caught off guard. cap?

the group of boys—about six or seven of them—seemed at ease with seungmin, chatting and laughing as they warmed up on the field. y/n watched quietly, realizing this was a side of him she hadn’t seen before.

“you have a team?” she asked, unable to hide her surprise.

seungmin glanced at her, his expression unreadable again. “yeah. we play here in the evenings.”

“oh,” y/n said, her tone soft. “i didn’t know.”

“you’re gone by then,” he pointed out, his voice matter-of-fact.

she nodded, her gaze drifting back to the group as they continued their playful banter. they seemed close, their energy lively but grounded.

“well,” she said after a moment, closing her notebook and standing. “i guess i’ll leave you to it.”

seungmin’s brows furrowed slightly, though he said nothing.

y/n slung her bag over her shoulder and picked up her guitar case. before leaving, she offered him a gentle smile. “see you around, seungmin.”

he nodded, his gaze following her briefly before returning to his team.

as she walked away, she couldn’t help but feel a new curiosity about the quiet, guarded boy who seemed to carry more than he let on.

y/n adjusted her guitar case, deciding she wasn’t quite ready to go home. she checked her phone, seeing a message from felix confirming their usual plan to meet at the café. a smile crept onto her lips as she quickened her pace, the familiar path to the cozy little spot etched into her mind.

the café sat tucked into a quiet corner of town, its faded brick façade and wide glass windows giving it a rustic charm. y/n stepped inside, the scent of freshly brewed coffee mingling with the faint aroma of baked goods welcoming her.

felix was already there, seated near the window with a cup of tea in front of him. he glanced up as the bell above the door chimed, and his calm expression softened into a small smile.

“right on time,” he said, his deep voice carrying a note of teasing.

“i’m always on time,” y/n replied, her tone light as she slid into the chair across from him. she set her guitar case beside the table and leaned back, letting the café’s warm atmosphere envelop her.

felix raised an eyebrow. “is that what you tell yourself when you’re five minutes late?”

“okay, once. that happened once.”

felix chuckled and sipped his tea. “how was the field today? same as always?”

she hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “pretty much. though… there’s this guy who’s always there. seungmin. i didn’t expect to see him earlier than usual.”

felix tilted his head, his curiosity piqued. “seungmin? the baseball guy?”

“yeah,” y/n said, fiddling with the edge of her notebook. “he’s quiet. keeps to himself. but i found out he has a team. they usually play in the evenings.”

“interesting,” felix murmured. “maybe he’s a future pro in disguise.”

y/n shrugged, though a small smile tugged at her lips. “maybe.”

after finishing their drinks, the two friends decided to roam the town. the streets were alive with their usual charm—small shops lining the cobblestone paths, vendors selling trinkets, and the faint hum of conversations blending with the distant rustle of trees.

eventually, they arrived at their usual street food spot, a tiny stall nestled in a busy corner where the smell of grilled skewers and noodles filled the air.

felix handed over the cash for their order before y/n could protest. “my treat,” he said firmly.

“you always say that,” y/n replied, accepting the steaming skewer of fish cakes he handed her.

“because it’s true,” he said, taking a bite of his own food.

they found a small table nearby and ate while chatting about their day. y/n shared stories about her classes, and felix listened with quiet interest, occasionally offering his own dry, witty remarks that made her laugh.

as they finished their food, y/n’s gaze wandered across the street, where a group of boys had gathered around another street food stall. her breath caught for a moment when she recognized seungmin among them.

so it is a small world.

he stood slightly off to the side, holding a skewer in one hand while his friends chatted and laughed around him. though he wasn’t as animated as the others, there was a faint, almost imperceptible smile on his face—a subtle ease in his demeanor that softened his usual guardedness.

y/n couldn’t help but smile internally. there was something oddly endearing about seeing him like this, surrounded by his friends, blending into the lively rhythm of the town.

“earth to y/n?” felix’s voice broke through her thoughts.

she blinked, turning back to him. “sorry, what?”

felix followed her gaze briefly and raised an eyebrow. “someone you know?”

“kind of,” she said, her voice soft. “that’s seungmin. from the field.”

“ah,” felix said, a note of amusement in his tone. “seems like he’s not as much of a loner as you thought.”

y/n smiled faintly, not replying. she watched as seungmin’s friends laughed at something one of them said, their voices carrying over the street. though he didn’t laugh with them, seungmin’s expression wasn’t as distant as usual—he looked… at ease.

for a moment, y/n considered walking over to say hello, but she quickly dismissed the thought. it didn’t feel like the right time.

from her point, she could see him more clearly now than she had at the field. he was at the edge of the group, his hands in his pockets and his expression composed but not cold. while his friends laughed and gestured animatedly, seungmin offered occasional comments, his voice quieter but not entirely detached.

her lips curved into a faint smile. there was something intriguing about the way he carried himself—not quite aloof but not fully immersed in the chaos of his friends either. he seemed comfortable yet separate, as though he existed in a world slightly apart from everyone else.

she watched as the group stopped near a food cart selling roasted sweet potatoes. one of the boys elbowed seungmin, clearly joking about something, and though seungmin didn’t laugh, his lips twitched upward in the briefest of smiles.

y/n’s heart warmed at the sight. it was such a small thing, but it made him seem less distant than he usually appeared.

realizing she’d been staring, y/n quickly looked back at felix, as they walked out of the stall.

the morning sunlight spilled gently into the cozy kitchen, illuminating the worn wooden table where the family gathered. y/n sat cross-legged on one of the chairs, sipping on her cup of hot tea. her hair was pulled back into a lazy braid, still slightly messy from sleep. the kitchen smelled of freshly cooked pancakes, courtesy of her grandma, who was bustling near the stove with her usual cheerful hum.

her grandpa, seated across from y/n with his morning paper, folded it down just enough to peer at her. “so, young lady,” he started, his tone casual but with a glint of mischief in his eyes, “what are your big plans for today?”

y/n shrugged, tearing a small piece of her pancake. “nothing much. probably read, maybe play guitar for a bit. why?”

“well,” he said, setting the paper aside with exaggerated care. “your old man here was thinking… how about we wash the car together? it’s looking mighty sorry out there.”

y/n smirked. “you mean you want me to wash the car while you supervise?”

he gasped, feigning shock. “what kind of slander is this? supervise? me? no, no. it’s teamwork, kiddo. bonding time.”

her grandma chimed in with a snort, flipping another pancake. “bonding time, huh? more like you’ll do half the job and then mysteriously need a break.”

“hey now!” he defended, raising his hands. “who said i wouldn’t pull my weight? besides, i’m offering quality fatherly wisdom while we work. isn’t that worth something?”

y/n laughed, shaking her head. “alright, alright, gramps. i’ll help. i was planning to wash my bike anyway.”

“atta girl,” her grandpa said, leaning back triumphantly. “we’ll get started after breakfast, then.”

-

“finally!” he exclaimed when he saw her. “thought you’d decided to ditch me for a second there.”

“relax, gramps,” y/n said, grinning as she tucked one earphone into her left ear. “i’m here, aren’t i?”

they rolled up their sleeves and got to work. y/n filled a bucket with soapy water while gramps grabbed the hose. mellow acoustic music played softly in her ear, a comforting backdrop to the task at hand.

“so,” gramps started, scrubbing at a particularly stubborn patch of dirt, “what’s the deal with that baseball kid you keep mentioning? seungmin, right?”

y/n paused mid-scrub, narrowing her eyes at him. “why do you keep bringing him up?”

“just curious,” he said innocently, though the teasing grin tugging at his lips betrayed him. “seems like he’s a topic of interest lately.”

“he’s just someone i see at the field sometimes,” y/n replied, focusing a little too intently on the car. “not that interesting.”

“uh-huh,” grandpa said, not convinced. “you should bring him over sometime. i’ll teach him how to really swing a bat.”

y/n laughed. “you don’t even play baseball, gramps!”

“oh, you know too less young lady,” he mumbled with a dismissive wave. “anyway, finish up the roof while i grab something from the shed. your grandma thinks i forgot the wax.”

y/n shook her head as he walked off, muttering under his breath about how many things grandma likes to remind him of.

with grandpa gone, y/n slipped the other earphone in and turned the volume up. the soothing strums of guitar and mellow vocals filled her ears as she focused on scrubbing every inch of the car. she moved methodically, dipping the sponge into the bucket and humming softly to herself. the sunlight caught on the small beads of water dripping from the car, casting tiny rainbows onto the pavement.

she was so absorbed in her task that she didn’t notice the figure walking down the street.

seungmin.

hold on, seungmin?

he’d been heading home after a quick errand, his bag slung lazily over one shoulder, when his gaze fell on her. at first, he thought it was someone else. but as he slowed his pace, he realized it was her.

y/n, standing there in the sunlight, completely immersed in what she was doing. her loose tee shifted slightly with her movements, and her messy bun framed her face in an effortlessly pretty way. the music in her ears left her unaware of his presence, and for a moment, seungmin just stood there, watching.

she looked different from the girl he usually saw at the field—less polished, more relaxed. but it suited her.

he debated for a second, then called out, “came to scrub cars now, huh?”

y/n startled, pulling out one earphone and spinning around. when she saw him, her eyes widened in surprise, her voice squeaking. “seungmin?”

“you missed a spot,” he said, pointing to the car with a faint smirk.

y/n looked at him, then down at the car, and deadpanned. “did you come all the way here just to tell me that?”

“was passing by,” he said with a shrug, though the truth felt far more complicated.

“well, since you’re here,” she said, holding out the sponge with a grin, “care to help?”

seungmin hesitated, his expression torn between amusement and disbelief. “not a chance.”

“figures,” y/n said, rolling her eyes playfully. “you baseball types are all the same. no multitasking skills.”

he raised an eyebrow. “pretty sure scrubbing cars isn’t a skill.”

“then you should try it,” she challenged.

before he could respond, gramps peeked out from the doorway, watching the scene with a grin. “who’s that?” he called, pretending to be oblivious.

“just a passerby, gramps!” y/n yelled back, glancing at seungmin with an amused smile.

gramps disappeared back inside, leaving them to their banter.

“you’re weird,” seungmin said finally, though his tone lacked any real bite.

“thanks,” y/n replied with an awkward laugh. “it’s part of my charm.”

"they won't let me live it down," she whispered exaggeratedly yet subtly, glancing back at the door her grandpa had just walked through, to get inside.

"i see," his gaze followed hers. "well, i'll let you carry on then,"

he shook his head, his smirk softening into something almost fond before he turned to leave. “see you around, car girl.”

y/n watched him walk away, her cheeks warm as she turned back to the car.

y/n stood there for a moment, still holding the sponge in her hand as seungmin disappeared down the street. a small smile tugged at her lips despite herself, her cheeks faintly warm. she shook her head to snap out of it and went back to scrubbing the car, the music in her earphones still playing softly.

just as she was finishing the final rinse, she heard the familiar shuffle of her grandpa’s shoes coming back into the garage. he had the tin of car wax in one hand and a slightly smug expression on his face.

“well, well, well,” he started, drawing out the words as he leaned against the car. “was that the young baseball kid you’ve been talking about?”

y/n groaned immediately, her cheeks heating up again. “gramps, stop. he was just passing by!”

“sure he was,” gramps said, his voice dripping with teasing skepticism. he crossed his arms, eyeing her closely. “funny coincidence, don’t you think? this small town, this exact street, just happening to walk by while you’re here looking like… well, like you do right now.”

“grandpa!” she exclaimed, spinning around to splash a little soapy water in his direction.

“alright, alright!” he said, dodging the splash but grinning from ear to ear. “but you can’t blame me for being curious. he seemed like a decent kid, though he could use a bit more enthusiasm in his voice. not much of a talker, is he?”

“not really,” y/n admitted, sighing as she wrung out the sponge. “but he’s… nice. i think.”

before grandpa could press further, gramma appeared at the doorway, wiping her hands on her apron as she took in the scene. “who’s this you’re talking about?” she asked, her sharp eyes darting between the two of them.

“oh the boy,” gramps said casually, but his grin betrayed him. “the baseball kid y/n’s been bumping into, at the field.”

gramma’s eyebrows shot up. “oh? he’s come to visit now, has he?”

“no!” y/n exclaimed, exasperated. “he was just walking by, and gramps decided to make a whole scene out of it.”

gramma chuckled as she came closer, inspecting y/n’s work on the car. “sounds to me like gramps is just jealous. wasn’t he a baseball boy himself back in the day?”

y/n blinked, turning to look at her grandpa. “wait, what? you were?”

gramps cleared his throat, suddenly looking a bit bashful. “well, i wouldn’t say baseball boy, exactly…”

“don’t let him fool you,” gramma interjected, her voice full of pride. “he was one of the best players in town back in his day. made it all the way to the intertown tournaments. brought home trophies too!”

“trophies?” y/n asked, her jaw dropping. “grandpa, why didn’t you ever tell me this?”

he shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. “didn’t seem all that important. it was a long time ago, kiddo.”

“not important?” gramma scoffed, smacking his arm lightly. “you still have those trophies sitting in the attic. he was the talk of the town back then.”

y/n stared at her grandpa in amazement. “wow, that’s so cool! why’d you stop?”

gramps hesitated, his usual playful demeanor softening. “life happened,” he said finally, his voice quiet. “family came first. had to make some choices, you know? i met your beautiful grandmother.”

y/n nodded, sensing there was more to the story but not wanting to push. “still, i had no idea you were so good at baseball. that’s… amazing.”

gramps brightened a bit at her words, a small smile tugging at his lips. “well, maybe i’ll teach you a thing or two one of these days. can’t have that baseball kid showing me up if he ever comes around again.”

gramma chuckled, shaking her head. “you two are impossible. now, finish up here before the sun sets. and y/n, don’t let him skip out on the waxing this time.”

“hey!” gramps protested, but he was already reaching for the wax.

as y/n worked on her bike nearby, she couldn’t help but glance toward the street again, wondering if seungmin would pass by a second time. her grandpa’s quiet hum and her gramma’s occasional comments from the kitchen filled the air with a warmth that made her heart feel full.

even as she focused on her tasks, seungmin’s image lingered in her mind—his slightly awkward but oddly endearing presence, the way he smirked just enough to show he was teasing.

she shook her head, smiling to herself. her grandparents were going to have a field day if they caught her thinking about him again.

[rhyslarsenlover]

his exception

my library

warnings: bsf!rafe cameron x innocent!reader, power imbalance, loss of virginity, rafe being a softie, p in v, praising, breeding kink, 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!

rafe wasn’t entirely sure when he started caring this much. it wasn’t like he woke up one morning and decided, yeah, i think i’m going to be completely obsessed with my best friend today. it just happened.

maybe it was the way you’d trail after him at parties, like a loyal puppy, trusting him to keep you safe when it got too crowded. or how you always had that soft, wide-eyed look when you turned to him, like you expected him to know all the answers. it made him want to be someone worth trusting. someone you could lean on.

which is why you were on his yacht, tucked into his side like you belonged there. you sighed, curling deeper into the warmth of his chest. “you didn’t have to bring me out here, you know.” rafe scoffed. “you looked miserable in my room. what was i supposed to do? leave you there?”

you peeked up at him, eyes gleaming under the dim deck lights. “most people would have.” he rolled his eyes. “yeah, well. i’m not most people.” that was an understatement. he’d ditched all of his friends, the country club, just because you looked so lonely in his room, where you’d usually spend the day waiting for him to get back from the club. he’d stolen you away, steering you onto his yacht without so much as an explanation, and now you were sitting on his deck, legs curled beneath you, sipping the drink he made you like this was just another saturday night.

and the worst part? it felt normal. like this was just something you did. like you weren’t wrapped in his hoodie, all soft and sleepy, making his chest ache in a way he didn’t know how to name.

you nudged him with your elbow. “you’re quiet.” rafe hummed, fingers absentmindedly playing with the hem of your sleeve. “just thinking.” “about?” he shrugged. “dunno. life.” you. you smiled, like you knew he was full of shit but weren’t gonna call him on it. instead, you reached for his hand, lacing your fingers through his. it was easy, natural. you always did things like that. touched him without thinking, folded yourself into his space like you belonged there.

rafe had never minded before. but today, something about it felt different. like he was standing on the edge of something big, something that had been waiting for him to notice it. maybe he had noticed. maybe he’d just been ignoring it.

your voice broke through his thoughts, soft and teasing. “you’d tell me if something was wrong, right?”

rafe looked at you, at the way your fingers played with his, like it was the most natural thing in the world. at the way you trusted him enough to fall asleep on his shoulder when you got too tired, to let him take care of you without question.

he squeezed your hand. “yeah,” he murmured. “i’d tell you.” you grinned, satisfied, and leaned your head against his shoulder. “good.” rafe exhaled, letting his chin rest lightly against your hair. yeah. he was so screwed. you stood up with your now empty glass, bending down to place it on the low table. little did you know that your short mini skirt had risen as you bent over, revealing a glimpse of your panties. rafe’s eyes caught sight of the scene, widening as he involuntarily groaned which caused you to turn your head, “you okay?” you ask, worry laced in your tone. “c’mere, princess,” he says as he opens his arm, motioning for you to sit in his lap, and you happily oblige. one strong arm wrapped around your waist, another holding his beer bottle, one that he hadn’t touched. you frown slightly, “you want some water?” you ask softly, watching as he looks up at you, his thumb rubbing circles on your hip, “got all i need on my lap, right here,” he says, a small smile on his lips.

his words had an indescribable effect on you, and you shift in his lap, trying to ease the tingling feeling you could feel in your pussy. his next words were low and warning, “stay still, or you might regret what i’ll do.” you grin, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you move your hips again, teasing him. “such a fucking brat,” he says, placing his beer on the floor beside his chair.

you didn’t really expect he’d do much, rafe was always so good to you, as far as you were concerned your rafe was an angel. but push an angel too hard and he might just fall. He moves his now free hand to the hem of your skirt, pushing it up slightly, “always dress so pretty for me, don’t ya, princess?” he says, eyes focused on your reaction. expressions of shock and then a flash of desire as you stared at his big, veiny hand. “you okay with me touching you, y/n?” he asked, seriousness written across his face, you nod quickly and let out a quick, “please.”

he chuckles and his fingers run over your panties, rubbing over your clit, eliciting a whimper from your lips as your eyes flutter closed. “this what you do when your own, hm?” he asks, not looking away from every micro expression on your face. “i’ve heard you, y/n. when you think i’ve left and your all alone in my room.” his voice is gravelly, thick with lust. “hear you whining, dreaming about my dick,” he continues as he slips a finger beneath your panties and pushes it inside of you. “god, y/n, you’re so wet for me.”

your lips part, heavy breaths leaving your lips as rafe adds another finger inside of you, his thumb circling your clit each time he slides his fingers in. he pulls his fingers out abruptly, licking his fingers as he maintains eye contact and a whine leaves your lips again, feeling empty.

instead of responding, he hooks an arm under your legs and picks you up bridal-style, carrying you to his cabin down the steps of his yacht. you leave kisses along his neck, wanting so desperately to make him feel good. he kicks his door shut behind him and sets you down on his plush king-sized bed, an adoring smile on his lips as he takes you in, his princess.

rafe leans down, his lips capturing yours in a passionate kiss. he runs his hands through your hair, deepening the kiss as he presses you gently onto the bed. pulling back slightly, he whispers against your lips, "god, i’ve been dreaming of this for so long, y/n. you don’t know what you do to me.” you blush, avoiding eye contact as you realise your inexperience, “rafe i’m not sure you mean that, especially since.. i’m you know..” you take a breath, “a virgin.”

his expression turns tender, his voice gentle as he looks into your eyes. “y/n i already knew that, and being your first makes me feel like the luckiest guy alive. being your only means that i promise to make you always feel good.” he says, his voice a million times softer than you had ever heard. of course, rafe was always soft with you, but this was extra. and it made you feel all soft and special. “please, need you rafey,” you beg, eyes big and pleading.

“you have no idea what hearing that does to me,” he slowly starts undressing you and himself, his hands trembling slightly with anticipation. he had never been nervous in his entire life, especially not with girls. but you were his girl, sweet y/n. he couldn’t say it out loud, but he loved you and he wanted to make you feel like the royalty that you were.

“want my cock inside you baby?” he asks, watching for your reaction, instead you whine again, unable to form words as he trailed the tip of his length along your slit, catching on your pink clit. rafe groans softly, his eyes darkening with desire as he feels your wetness against his tip, he couldn’t bear it any longer. forcing himself inside of you. he thought he could go slow, but you were insatiable. “taking me so good, baby, mm,” he groans, as he feels you clamp around him.

you moan loudly, appreciative of his side, he filled you up perfectly and you were so wet that it was easy for him to thrust. “faster, rafe!” you shout, lifting your hips with him as he fucked you faster.

his hand moved to your clit again and you couldn’t contain yourself, a loud moan tumbling from your lips as you came unexpectedly. your juices pooled around his dick, a loud squelching as rafe continued to pound into you. his breath became ragged as he neared his high, quickly pulling out and coming on your stomach.

a pout formed on your pink lips, “wanted your cum inside me, rafey,” you say, your voice small as you worry that maybe he didn’t think you deserved it inside you. “oh baby, that’s for round 2,” he grins, dipping his finger in his cum and bringing it to your lips. you instantly wrap your lips around it, sucking and humming in pleasure before popping off with a smile, “delicious!”.

“god, i can’t wait for round 2,” he says, chuckling as he leads you to the bathroom.

a/n: ok i NEED him rn. also sorry if theres typos, i didnt proofread :/

[rbfclassy]

heyy! can you please write something with geto being a nonchalant person but then he meets this girl that’s got him so intrigued, she seems innocent at first but the more they talk the more he realises she isn’t and she’s all he thinks about, at work at home everywhere and obv he starts being a perv and thinks pervy things about her but when he tells her she’s like “that’s what I was going for, glad it worked” so he’s HOOKED also pls pls pls need some size kink there🤲🏼🤲🏼 thank uuu

NOT SO INNOCENT! — GETO SUGURU

SYNOPSIS...when a not so innocent girl like you gets geto’s head spinning, and little does he know that it’s on purpose

INFO...geto x fem!reader, they’re in college, touching, dirty thoughts, jerking off, dirty talk, making out, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

thank you for the request anon!

You were Geto’s new class partner, paired up for a project that you guys both had in chemistry. He’s never talked to you before, but he knew you were smart, and quiet, always stayed to yourself. He was hoping with you around that you’d both pass with an easy A, usually opting out of working with others unless it was his best friend—he is sometimes even hard to tolerate.

You’d try sparking a conversation with him, trying to get him to open up, trying to make jokes, he was going to be your partner after all. But, all he did was give dry responses or ignore you, settling for just working in silence instead. But as the days went on, you never failed to keep talking to him, going on about the annoying professor in your history class. He won’t lie, you’ve earned a chuckle from him or two, but still, he would always act nonchalant.

Then, the light touches started after a few weeks, your hand brushing over his when reaching for something, sneaking by him and accidentally rubbing your ass against him. Not to mention when you leaned over the table, your tits threatening to spill out of your cute top while explained some stupid equation to him. Was he not supposed to stare? His eyes would flicker up to your lips, taking notice of the tinted pink lipgloss you wore. He just stared and stared, nodding his head at what you were saying as if he was listening—he couldn’t hear a thing.

He hated to admit that every night when he got back home from working with you, he’d find himself pent up, a tent in his pants, aching to the touch. He’d groan in annoyance because what was it even about you that got him so worked up like this? You’re practically some nerdy, shy girl that he’s partnered up with. Or were you?

One late night in library answered his burning question. That focused look on your face, writing down your notes from your computer as he tapped his pen on the table, staring at you. His eyes narrowed as you stretched, looking away from your computer and back at your notes, when suddenly your pen dropped under the table. “Oh no,” you mumbled, quickly getting on your hands and knees. Geto just sighed, looking back down at his paper to realize he had one sentence written down. He rolled his eyes, but they quickly shot open when he felt your hands on his thighs, so dangerously close to touching his clothed dick. “Got it!” You spoke from under the table and removed your hands from him, sitting back in your chair. Surely that was just an accident, just like the rest of them.

That night, Geto wasn’t even able to make it back home without pulling over in some empty parking lot and jerking off to the thought of you. Every single day and night, you cloud his brain, picturing your soft tits, your plump lips, the way your hands feel on him, and how your ass pushes up against him. God, you’re starting to drive him fucking crazy. He doesn’t like it…he loves it. “Oh, fuck,” he whimpers, tossing his head back as he grows closer to his orgasm. His eyes are screwed shut, imaging it’s your hands that are making him feel this good, and before you know it he’s cumming so much, broken moans filling up the empty space of his car.

And the next day, he goes about meeting you up at the library like nothing happened, like he didn’t just jerk off to the thought of you last night. “Hey, Suguru!” You greet with a cute smile, waving at him. He waves back, setting his things down at the table you usually work at. A few hours go by and he’s looking at books on the shelf, trying to find one that relates to your project topic and here you go, walking up to him. “Excuse me,” you say, brushing up against him once again.

Hie clenches his teeth and before he can even think, he snatches your wrist and pulls you towards him. You let out a little squeak, staring up at with confused eyes. “What do you think you’re doing, huh?” He asks, yelling in a whisper.

“What…what do you mean?” You question, your chest flushed against his, the grip on your wrist still tight.

His nostrils flair and he inhales deeply. “Stop playing so innocent. I know what you’re doing, y/n. Always rubbing your ass against me, having your tits out in my face, the accidental touches near my dick. You’re driving me fucking crazy, you know that?” He stares down at you. “Every fucking day and night I’m constantly thinking about you, getting so fucking turned on, hot and bothered, jerking off to the thought of you touching me. Fuck…” He exhales.

A small smile starts forming on your face before you start giggling, looking up at him. A confused look is plastered on Geto’s face. “Oh my gosh, took you long enough,” you laugh. “I’ve been waiting for you to notice for so long, Suguru. I’m so glad it worked.” You placed your hand on his chest, inching your lips closer to his.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he said in disbelief. “Fuck you.”

“Oh? When and where? I’ve been practically waiting for that moment.” You smile at him, pushing him against the library wall. “Should we do it right here, hm? Where no one can see us?” You slowly start sinking down to your knees.

“Get up off the floor before someone sees you!” He pulls you back up to your feet, looking around to make sure no one saw the both of you. You laugh in his face, leaning against him.

“Come on, I know you wanna fuck me! I see the way you stare at me, and based on what you just told me…you’re quite desperate.” You reach your hand up to his face, the pad of your thumb ghosting over his pink lips. “I am too,” you whisper.

He stares back at you with dark eyes, and you could tell he’s holding everything back no matter how hard it is, but one more word from you and you’ll shatter that wall and make him lose all control. He can’t help himself when it comes to you.

“Please, Suguru.” The sound of his name rolling off your tongue goes straight to his dick and he realizes he can’t take it anymore.

“Fuck…fuck, okay, okay. Come here.” He pulls you in for a hungry kiss as if he was a starving man. His plump lips colliding with yours, tongues messily moving against each other. At this point, he doesn’t care if anyone catches you both, he just needs to feel you wrapped around him so badly right now. You drive him insane.

yes I left it on a cliffhanger (sorry for being devious)

[polarisjisung]

COSMIC FEELINGS

synopsis: The rain had its oceans. The sun had its moon, everything had a reason for falling—and you had him. With Park Jisung, you were always falling: falling down, falling short, falling in love. But sometimes, love isn’t enough. And sometimes, love is all you need.

wc: 3.3k pairings: ex bf! jisung × fem! reader genre: angst, fluff, exes to lovers warnings: swearing, loserish pining ig notes: can you tell i like the exes to lovers trope ... anyways HAPPY JISUNG DAY!! tried something a little interstellar and cosmic themed for our favourite space nerd and NASA lover jisung.. I hope you like it gang ! gotta stay true to my user iykwim | LIBRARY

Today marked exactly 6 months.

6 months since everything fell apart. 

The time had stretched by, hours like days, weeks like months, and the nights dragged on, even longer. 

You struggle to believe that you and Jisung broke up only 6 months ago. It could have been six years, six centuries, or even six lifetimes, and it would all feel the same—an endless expanse of time. 

It wasn't healthy, you supposed, because in each and every waking moment, the thoughts of him clouded your mind. His name was on your lips, repeated like a mantra, day in and day out.

And the nights? 

They'd swallow you whole, pulling you into their eternal embrace, the minutes dragging on, slipping through your fingers like stardust.

Every night, he invaded your sleep. His face, his laugh, the way he looked when he’d roll his sleeves up a little too high. 

You could trace every inch of him if you closed your eyes—those familiar grooves in his hands, the faint scars across his skin, each imperfection etched into your mind. Pain you could never erase, left only for you to commit to a beautiful memory. 

To you, Park Jisung was the sun, the moon and all the stars in the sky. 

Eternal, radiant and yet so very distant.

As you stood on the balcony, feeling the weight of the empty space beside you, you sighed. You didn’t remember when the sky had become so empty, but it felt like it had been that way for years. 

The constellations that once felt familiar now seemed like strangers, their lights flickering in ways you couldn't recognise.

When you lay down, hoping to take your mind off of him, you remembered how you used to lie together. 

Beside you, the bed sunk with emptiness, and you recalled how your hands had traced the starry formations against his skin, mapping the universe as your fingers brushed over his.

In those moments, you swore you could taste the stars in his words, the way he’d speak of them—of space, of time, of you. 

Park Jisung called you beautiful, like it was your name. He loved you like it was all he knew. And in his eyes, you saw a future made of light, of endless skies, of forever. A forever with you.

But now, the stars looked different—fainter, perhaps. The moon, too, seemed smaller tonight. Maybe it was the distance, or maybe it was just the weight of how long it had been since he called you his sky. 

You caught yourself wondering if he was out there, somewhere beneath the same curtain of noir, staring up at the same stars, feeling the same tug in his chest. In his heart.

Truly, you don't know how it happened. But you remembered it like it was yesterday.

The rain tapped against the window in a steady, unrelenting rhythm, the kind that made the world outside look like a blurred painting, colors mixing into nothingness. 

Inside, your apartment was quiet—too quiet, save for the hum of the fridge and the soft rustle of Jisung’s jacket as he dropped it by the door. The clock on the microwave read well past midnight.

04:25

You had just gotten home after work.

You stood by the kitchen counter, your calloused fingers gripping its edge as you stared down at the chipped mug in front of you, the steam from your tea rising in slow spirals. 

Your eyes were tired, red, dark circles hinting at restless nights. You hadn’t expected him—hadn't even wanted him to come. You didn't have the energy for it. For him.

But here Jisung was, standing in the entryway, his hair damp from the rain, his hoodie hanging loosely around his shoulders. 

The space between you felt too wide, too heavy.

"You didn’t have to come," you said, your voice quieter than you’d intended.

You shouldn't have, Jisung heard.

He didn’t move immediately. His gaze lingered on you, on the way your shoulders hunched as though the weight of your silence was pressing down on you. 

He exhaled sharply and crossed the room to stand beside you.

The space was still there, the one that had always been between you two these past few months, like an invisible chasm that neither of you had known how to cross.

"Y/n, I—" Jisung stopped himself. His words, heavy as they were, seemed to hang in the air, too fragile to be spoken. 

He hadn't seen you in weeks. Not properly at least, only through 2 minute FaceTime calls and quick selfies snapped between the times you'd head to work and to sleep. 

And you hadn't seen him, perhaps if you had it would've been easier to notice the deepening bags beneath his eyes, how his cheeks were beginning to hollow. How every part of him reflected you, dull and lifeless.

Jisung was an open book before you, yet at this moment, you were blind to his pages. Illiterate in the way of his unspoken words.

You swallowed hard, blinking back the warmth threatening to rise in your chest. 

"What are we doing, Jisung?"

His lips tightened. He reached for your hand, his fingers brushing yours before he pulled back, as if the contact was too much, too little all at once.

What were you doing? 

Jisung wished he knew.

You were both trying, he was sure of that much, but it felt as though your efforts bred different results, like you aimed for the same thing and ended up in opposite directions. 

Relentlessly, you had tried and tried and tried, but no amount of effort seemed enough. Like nothing could save you. A cruel twist of fate.

"We’re both drowning," Jisung said, his voice low, almost lost in the noise of the storm outside. "In everything... and there's no space left. Not for us. Not for anything."

You turned your back to him now, because facing him felt too much like watching something break. "I know." You said.

There was nothing else to say, nothing left. 

Still, Jisung had hoped you'd continue.

You didn't.

You didn’t have the energy for it. 

Between work, and the extra degree you'd all too ambitiously decided to start studying, the basic necessities, like sleeping, and eating, there was no time left. Like a robot, you only did what you were programmed to do, and it seemed Jisung was no longer part of your code.

He waited for your denial. It never came.

You barely had time for yourself, you didn't in fact, so how could you argue that you had time for Jisung, for your love?

You couldn't correct his words, not when he hadn't said anything wrong. 

So you stayed quiet.

The silence was no longer comfortable. It stretched between you like an unwelcome presence, suffocating in its weight. 

Jisung wanted to reach for you, to hold you like he used to, but every time he moved, it felt forced, it felt wrong. The timing had always been wrong. Schedules clashing.  

You had become ghosts in each other’s lives.

"I miss you," he whispered, as though admitting it would make it hurt less. It only made the ache deepen. "But I’m not sure I know how to be the person you need anymore."

Your breath hitched in your throat. "I know, I’m sorry."

Jisung’s chest tightened, his hand balling into a fist at his side. The weight of your words settled on his ribs, pressing down on him. 

He had never wanted this.

Never wanted to stand here, in this cold apartment, feeling the distance that had crept between you two over the weeks, the months.

And yet, here you were, saying things you hadn’t said in so long. Truths that had long been buried under the weight of your hectic lives.

The rain beat harder against the glass, as if the world outside had heard the finality in your voices. 

You closed your eyes, your fingers brushing the edge of the counter. 

The room was too still, too heavy with everything unsaid.

"I love you, you know,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, “but it's too selfish of me to expect you to do the same, even now.” 

Jisung nodded slowly, the motion jerky, like something inside him was unraveling. 

He hadn’t come here to say goodbye. 

But the words had already formed, and the door was already closing, even if neither of you had pushed it shut.

“Maybe it's best if we break up.” 

"I'm sorry," he said, the words tasting bitter on his tongue. "For everything."

You nodded in return, your gaze fixed on the rain outside. "I am too."

And with that, the space between you two grew wider, a gap neither of you could bridge, no matter how hard you tried. 

The storm outside wasn’t the loudest thing in the room anymore. It was the silence, growing heavier, thicker, until it swallowed you both whole.

And then, he was gone.

You told yourself you were fine, told yourself that moving on was just part of life, that you'd get over it. You'd heal. But as you went about your days, the ache never fully disappeared. Instead, it had faded into a dull throb, a constant reminder of what once was. The endless longing had inserted itself into your routine, and you'd learnt to live with the pain. 

But when you saw his name pop up on your phone, the world, your world, had tilted on its axis, orbited too much, too fast and too far. All at once, your throat constricted and you gasped for air, shaking, trembling.

You couldn't breathe.

In the moments it took you to gather enough courage to read the text beneath his contact, your heart raced, your palms sweat and the weight in your chest intensified. So foreign, yet so familiar. 

It was exhilarating.

Jisung always made you feel this way, electric, ablaze— like the universe ran through your veins.

The message was simple: "can we talk".

No punctuation, no personality—the same as the first time Jisung had ever texted you. 

It was dry, it was boring and yet it planted that same quiet curiosity in your chest as it had years ago. Before Jisung had sunk beneath your bones and nurtured that deep-rooted familiarity into the only thing, the only feeling, the only experience that you could ever call love. 

You didn't respond right away, though your fingers hovered over the screen. The hesitation gnawed at you, for a moment you considered not responding at all. A long moment.

But it was the memory of his eyes, the way he'd looked at you before everything fell apart, that forced you to tap out a reply. How could you ever say no?

Though you're not sure falling apart was the right term. 

You and Jisung had crumbled, piece by piece, atom by atom. 

Your light had dimmed, your nebula collapsed— everything caved in on itself. Slowly but surely, your strengths, your weaknesses, your love. 

You had imploded.

The coffee shop was small, cosy, almost like a memory. 

Pink walls and tall ceilings, the soft murmur of conversations and the clink of mugs create a comforting background, with the same warm lighting overhead that you had always loved.

You hadn't been here in months, and you felt the nostalgia creeping in, coming through smiles from regular customers and greetings from the baristas. It had been so long, too long. 

But strangely, you didn't miss it as much as you thought you would.

Still, amongst the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the pastel walls of the building, it felt warm, easing the tightness in your chest ever so slightly. 

You sat waiting for Jisung, tucked away in a booth just next to the window. 

You had arrived earlier than the both of you had agreed, hoping the nerves would settle if you had accustomed to your surroundings. 

You weren't so sure that was the case now. 

Too many questions clouded your thoughts, what did he want to talk about, and why so suddenly? He had only messaged you last night, agreeing to meet the next morning—today. 

And if there was one thing you knew about Jisung, it was that he rarely, if ever, acted on impulse. 

His urgency was disconcerting, to say the least. 

But your thoughts didn't end there. 

You wondered if he had changed, if he was still the Jisung you loved, or a new version you wouldn't recognise. 

Sure, it had been 6 months since you broke up, but it had been far more since you saw Jisung, really saw him, not just the 2 second check ins and the 5 minute calls. 

You shifted in your seat, a shiver running down your spine. A bitter taste sat in your tongue.

Behind you, the sound of the door opening brought a rush of emotion—like your heart recognised him before your mind had the chance.

Jisung was standing there, hands stuffed into his pockets, eyes darting around as if he wasn’t sure where to go. 

But then, they locked on you.

And just like that, the months between you disappeared.

He smiled. It was a quiet thing, more like an exhale than an expression. The same smile that you knew so well, and had told you countless times that things would be okay. 

You hoped it could do the same today. 

“Hey,” he said, voice softer than you remembered. The warmth in it making your chest tighten.

You nodded, unsure of how to start. 

Your throat felt tight, like there were a thousand things you wanted to say but couldn’t find the words for.

“Do you… do you want to sit?” you asked, gesturing to the chair across you.

He nodded again and you watched as he settled in, eyes not leaving yours. 

The silence was thick, heavy, like the air was holding its breath. You were too. 

It felt like Jisung was waiting for you to speak, but you didn’t know how to bridge the gap. 

You never knew how when it came to him. Not when the distance between you had never been there in the first place.

He spoke first. 

“How have you been?” his gaze was gentle, tender, a half smile rested across his lips as he spoke.

“Fine.” you choked out, really as convincingly as you possibly could. 

But Jisung clicked his tongue.

He knew, you thought. 

How could he not? 

You and Jisung were born from the same star, he echoed your emptiness, and you reflected his light.

Of course he knew.

“Really?” he sighed, raking a hand through his now dark blue hair, “Because I haven't been.” Jisung sighed, locking his eyes with yours once again, only this time he didn't dare to look away, speaking with conviction, with determination.

“I miss you. So much. It kills me to wake up and see that you're not next to me” Jisung gulps, holding back in every aspect but verbally, “I even miss you now, when you're sat across from me, because I don't just miss seeing you, I miss knowing you.” he pauses,”I miss loving you.” 

Jisung's voice is heavy with each breath he takes, and fuck, he feels like he's floating when your gaze softens beneath his, choked with tenderness for you. 

He wants nothing more than to bask in the sweetness of your voice, to drown in your moonlit eyes and show you all the little stars in his heart.

Jisung's not done yet though, there's so many things left to say, too many in fact, but nothing more pressing than this.

“I regret it.” 

He feels the weight lift off his shoulders, like he can sit up straighter as each syllable falls from his lips, “I regret not telling you then how much you meant to me, how much I didn't want this to happen to us.” 

How much I loved you

Carefully, you listen, like every word is sacred. 

You don't speak, you don't nod, you don't even move.

Scared that the slightest disturbance would fray your concentration and you'd miss every small signal Jisung sent towards you, like the fire in his soul wasn't contagious, like that fire wasn't ignited by you.

“You weren't just part of my life Y/n, and I'm an idiot for not having realised sooner. You were my life. You are my life.”

There was a pause. You didn’t know how to respond to that.

Meanwhile, Jisung's lips curl upwards unconsciously.

It had taken him half a year, six months, twenty-six weeks, one hundred and eighty-two days to finally give his truth a voice. 

And God, was it liberating.

Jisung had loved you in every life, he thinks, like you were written on every molecule he ever became. Your souls intertwined. Star-crossed.

He watched closely as you processed his words, the glow in his eyes growing warmer with each second he let them rest on you. You were yet to respond, but you knew, Jisung hadn’t a care in the world aside from that, it only mattered to him that you knew. 

There was a knocking at your chest, a feverish swelling, innocuous, like flowers blooming through the cracks of your ribs. Like your whole body had been struck by lightning.

But you couldn't move.

The stillness coated your limbs, spreading across your entire being, a strange sort of paralysis that only seemed to occur when he was around. 

“I love you,” he said, suddenly, sharply cutting through the silence.

“I don’t expect anything,” he continued, his voice thick with regret. “I just… I needed you to know.”

His words hit harder than you expected, and you flinched inwardly, trying to keep your composure.

The ache in your chest grew, the familiar pang of loss creeping in. 

You thought you had buried it, locked it away in the back of your mind, but now it was surfacing, raw and insistent. 

You didn't know what you wanted from this, what you hoped would happen now. It wasn’t like before, when you could just run to him and everything felt right. 

This time, it felt like a dream—something you couldn’t quite touch. Distant. 

An interstellar love, but you weren't capable of defying gravity.

Or maybe you were just so damn scared that this was another moment where you'd let yourself fall for him all over again, only to end up with the same broken pieces.

Perhaps it would have been easier to hate him.

Your silence stretched on, his words lingering in the air between you.

Jisung's knee began to bob impatiently beside you, though his expression was still just as comforting as before. 

He sat, awaiting your response. 

“I love you.” he repeated. 

“Again?” you breathed out, finally.

“Still.” he confessed. “Desperately, selfishly, irrevocably, I still love you���

Oh.

“I thought you were happy,” you managed to say, the words slipping out before you could stop them. “I thought you were better off without me.”

I thought you were over me

His eyes softened, but there was something almost painfully raw in them, like a wound that had a band aid slapped carelessly over the top, unable to heal.

“I never was. But I convinced myself I could be,” he admitted, his gaze dropping to his hands. “I thought there was no point if i couldn't even see you, no point in us, no point fighting.”

He sighed, running his tongue across his cheek, “I was wrong, so fucking wrong.” Jisung knew that, and it had cost him everything.

You nod. Part of you wanted to leap with joy, and another part of you wanted to cease to exist. 

But all of you wished he had said those words sooner.

You hadn't realised when you’d caught your bottom lip between your teeth, but it had gone raw from how you'd been constantly biting at it. 

You hadn't noticed until you felt Jisung's gentle touch against your lips, his thumb guiding your lip out from your clenched jaw, his hand resting beneath your chin.

He didn't say much, instead Jisung quietly shook his head. 

And then it hit you.

Every beautiful quirk, every perfect imperfection, everything that so delicately composed Park Jisung, you saw it all then. 

Everything you loved.

He had the sun in his smile, the stars in his eyes, he loved like the moon, through every phase, eternal and silent. Like a promise, celestial.

It came crashing down on you, like an asteroid would the earth. Beautifully, crushingly.

“I love you too.” 

It had been 6 months since you saw Jisung, and you loved him all the same, like he'd hung all the stars in the sky.

Jisung smiled at you, like a match catching fire. Like he had been waiting for ignition.

And in that instant, you realised—he wasn’t just a star in your sky.

He was a supernova, brilliant and all-consuming, collapsing and expanding in the same breath, burning, not just with you, but for you.

Love like his didn’t fade quietly; it burned, it devoured, it reshaped the very fabric of the universe.

And as the fire took hold, you didn’t run.

You let it consume you.

Because some loves aren’t meant to flicker.

Some loves are made to explode.

tags: @yizhrt @suzayaaa @nanawrlds @sinisxtea @dearlyminhyung @flaminghotyourmom @jisworlds @jenobubbles @nctdreamchaser @lotties-readings @mystverse @chenlezip @blondemrk

[mistressofstars]

A Lecture on Desire

Pairing: Kathryn Hahn x Reader

Summary: A lecture on The Price of Salt is supposed to be all about Therese and Carol, but when Professor Hahn locks eyes with you, lines blur. Non-magical AU

Word Count: 1.6k

„Do you like her?“

''Of course!' What a question! Like asking her if she believe in God.“

- Patricia Highsmith, The Price of Salt

Part I

The classroom hums with the usual energy—papers rustling, laptops clicking shut, and a few muffled conversations as students gather their things and the soft scrape of chairs against the floor as students pack up. Kathryn Hahn your English literature professor is standing at the front leaning against the desk. Her reading glasses rest on the tip of her nose, and she’s holding The Price of Salt in one hand, the well-worn edges of the book betraying the number of times it’s been read. Her other hand closes her notebook with a soft snap.

„Alright, folks,” she says, her voice slicing through the chatter with that signature blend of authority and subtle warmth. “That’s it for today. Let this sit with you, take it, marinate on it, so you don’t come back next class asking me to repeat myself.”

“And for those of you who didn’t speak today—you know who you are—next class is your chance, I expect more from you.“!Her eyes scan the room, lingering for a moment longer on the faces of the students who’ve been quiet

„I want you to think about Therese’s attraction to Carol. What is it, really, that draws her in? Is it Carol’s beauty? Her confidence? Or is there something else, something harder to define?“ She smirks, a playful challenge in her expression.

With that, Kathryn gathers her things, slipping the notebook under her arm and walking to the door, her heels clicking softly against the floor.

The classroom is slowly emptying, the soft hum of chatter growing louder as students make their way out. You sit there, the weight of Kathryn’s words still hanging in the air. The question she left you with—about Therese’s attraction to Carol—lingers in your mind, but it’s something more than just the academic challenge that’s stuck with you.

The the last few students file out, one of them, a familiar face from past semesters, leans over and taps your desk.

“You okay?” they ask, an eyebrow raised, clearly having noticed the way you were staring off into space.

You glance up, trying to shake off the heavy feeling that’s settled in. “Yeah, just… thinking,” you mutter.

They smirk knowingly, shifting their weight. “Yeah, I get it. She has that effect on people. You’re not the first to get caught up in her questions.”

You glance at them, unsure how to respond, but curiosity bubbles up. “Caught up in her questions?”

“Ah, you’ll see,” they say with a sly grin. “Kathryn Hahn? She’s the kind of professor who makes you think you’re just discussing literature, but you end up grappling with things you didn’t expect. She’s… intense. You’ll find yourself reflecting on what she says long after class.“

…

The library is quiet, the kind of stillness that settles in just before dusk. For the first time this winder snow falls, outside the tall windows, blanketing the campus in white. You’re tucked into a corner near the philosophy section, working through notes for next week’s class, but your mind keeps drifting. The question Professor Hahn posed still lingers, twisting through your thoughts like smoke: What is it that draws Therese to Carol?

Your pen hovers over the page, the words stubbornly refusing to come. Frustrated, you glance out the nearest window, hoping the snowfall might offer some clarity—or at least a distraction.

And that’s when you see her.

Professor Hahn stands near one of the buildings more hidden side entrances, a cigarette balanced between her fingers. She’s dressed in a long black coat, its sharp lapels framing a pale satin blouse beneath. The blouse is undone just enough to reveal the curve of her collarbone and the faintest glimpse of skin beneath, completely inappropriate for the snow swirling around her. But she doesn’t seem to care. Her hair is slightly tousled, catching the faint glow of the streetlight above her.

You watch as she takes a slow drag, her chest rising and falling in a rhythm that seems almost deliberate. The smoke curls around her face before disappearing into the cold air. She tilts her head back slightly, exhaling with a languid ease, her eyes half-lidded, lost in some thought you can’t begin to guess.

Her fingers move with precision, buttoning the coat halfway, but the effort seems half-hearted, as though the biting cold is of no real concern to her. Snowflakes settle in her dark hair. She’s mesmerizing. The kind of presence that doesn’t demand attention but captures it effortlessly. Her hand moves as she flicks ash into the snow and she flicks some hair out of her face when- for a brief moment

grey eyes flicker up towards the library window, Toward you. Your heart stops beating. You can’t breathe, frozen right then and there. She saw me.

Her coat shifts when she moves, revealing glimpses of her wrist, her neck. She lifts the cigarette to her lips again, her fingers brushing against her face sucking.There’s something hypnotic about the way she moves, unhurried, as though every gesture is deliberate.

Did she see me?

You know you should look away. Your heart still beats uncomfortably strong against your ribcage. The snow falls heavier, settling on her shoulders, her hair. She doesn’t brush it away. Instead, she leans against the wall, tipping her head back once more, a wisp of smoke curling from her mouth like some kind of signature.

She didn’t see me.

You don’t realize how long you’ve been watching until she moves suddenly, flicking the cigarette into the snow and crushing it under the toe of her boot. Then, just before stepping out of view, her lips curve into the faintest smirk.

…

The lecture hall is filmed with the usual chatter, but the moment of silence falls when Kathryn stands, ready to begin. She steps to the front, pulling a well-worn copy of The Price of Salt from her bag, flipping it open to a marked page

She clears her throat, then gestures to one of the students, a quiet one who often volunteers. “Would you read for us, please?”

The student stands, their voice hesitant but clear as they begin: „Their eyes met at the same instant moment, Therese glancing up from a box she was opening, and the woman just turning her head so she looked directly at Therese. She was tall and fair, her long figure graceful in the loose fur coat that she held open with a hand on her waist, her eyes were grey, colorless, yet dominant as light or fire, and, caught by them, Therese could not look away.’

The room is still, each word hanging in the air, and you can feel the tension in the story building just as it did when you read that passage yourself. You glance up at Kathryn, who watches the student with an unreadable expression. Her eyes narrow slightly, lips pressing together as she listens intently.

When the student finishes reading, Kathryn slowly closes the book, looking up. “Now,” she says, her voice cutting through the quiet, “what is it that makes Therese so captivated by Carol in this moment?”

Her gaze flickers to you suddenly, as if she’s been waiting for you to speak. Her eyes lock with yours, „Miss Y/N“.

You hadn’t expected it to be you. The question hangs in the air, heavy with her gaze, and for a moment, the whole class seems to blur.

You take a breath, nerves starting to take hold, but you push them down.

„Therese is drawn to Carol not just because of her beauty, though that’s undeniable. It’s the way Carol carries herself, like she’s fully aware of the power she holds. Her elegance, her confidence—it’s magnetic. But what really pulls Therese in is how Carol allows her to look.“

At that you you see Professor Hahn slightly leaning forward her eyes widen ever so slightly.

You swallow hard but continue, her eyes still locked on you. „There’s an invitation in the way Carol moves, the way she presents herself.‘ It’s like Carol isn’t just beautiful, she’s a creature who knows she’s being watched, and she welcomes it. She enjoys it. And that’s part of the pull. For Therese, it’s not just about wanting Carol, it’s about being invited into that space, being allowed to gaze upon someone who seems so untouchable yet so real.”

Your voice falters just for a second as a memory sweeps over her. Her gaze flickers for a moment, and she’s back in the library, staring through the window at the snow-covered campus. The image of Professor Hahn standing outside in the cold returns in a flash—the sharp contrast of her long black coat and the satin blouse beneath it, the way her fingers delicately held the cigarette, the way she seemed completely unbothered by the snow settling in her hair, like the weather didn’t stand a chance against her.

“Carol doesn’t shy away from Therese’s gaze—she thrives on it.“ Kathryn’s gaze sharpens, her lips curling ever so slightly, and you know she’s taking in every word. She doesn’t break eye contact.

„It makes Carol feel… desired, powerful in a way that she’s able to control.“ You whisper those last words. Breaking the eye contact finally. You could swear Professor Hahns pupils dilated, her arms that were folded across her chest slowly open and she holds herself on the desk.

“Interesting,” she says, her voice smooth and low. “We’ll explore that more next time.” Her eyes linger just a moment longer, a flicker of something you can’t quite place in them, before she shifts her attention to the rest of the class.

[venusandsaturnsrings]

★彡 theoretic exposé.

summery: he had intended to wiggle is way into your life and by a stroke of luck, discovered the perfect way to keep you in his palm.

contains: post 2.7 tb mission, blackmailing, power dynamics, halovian reader, afab/fem reader, sadistic sunday, aftercare at the end, and this was supposed to be a small blurb but turned into a 3k words whoops!!

it was quiet. you sat amongst the books of an overfilled library on one of the Xianzhou ships glossing over various titles as you digested all of the recent happenings aboard the Astral Express. much of it was far too difficult to fully grasp, despite pestering Mr. Yang with endless questions, so you settled for sticking your nose into some light novels; surely the rest of the crew wouldn’t mind? well, Dan Heng might but when you brought up the idea to both March and Stelle they had brushed it off in favour of various games around the dreamscape. not that it bothered you, of course, some alone time never hurt and you weren’t too keen on spending it with the newest passenger as some reservations of your own remained alongside burgeoning desires.

picking up one of the books you read the title, ‘A Mages Lessons in Rope; Magic and Arousal?!’, and though you scoffed at the typical tacky wording you couldn’t help but tuck it under your arm. without prying eyes no one could judge you for wanting to read something so… mature, for lack of better words. glancing over the shelves you picked up two other novels of similar content before shyly approaching the cashier who rung you up without a second glance, perhaps used to people buying erotica and not wanting to further embarrass them which brought you peace of mind. sliding them into your bag after paying, you walked down the streets and enjoyed the fresh air. the calm and nearly homely atmosphere was soothing after all the chaos and you opted to snag a bubble tea before returning to the express.

heading to your room without delay you unwinded with a bath before settling down in your aptly proclaimed reading chair and cracking open the first of the books with knees almost to your chin.

crude and sufficiently embarrassing to read, you made your way through the first handful of chapters before warmth began to swirl in your stomach at the descriptions of many intimate encounters between the mage and her trusted albeit mysterious companion before an even and self-assured knock came from your door. you jolted up and shoved the book beneath a pillow after mentally noting your page number before opening the door in a flustered state; this was supposed to be your alone time with nothing but these tacky novels and maybe a hand down your shorts! who dares to knock? low and behold, behind the door was none other than the fresh passenger, Sunday. you shifted nervously as you greeted him and he returned it coupled with a practiced nod, ever so formal.

“apologies for interrupting any preoccupations, but i don’t believe we’ve made acquaintances yet. Sunday, the pleasure is truly mine,” he smiled in a manner that could only be described as an attempt to be casual but lined with a stiffness he clearly couldn’t shake. you returned the greeting and filled him in on your name though you knew he already was aware as you were of his. he hummed pensively and looked over your shoulder for a moment, “would you be offended should i ask to come in? i’d quite like the honourable chance to know you better,” and though you weren’t entirely pleased at the idea you nodded and side stepped to allow his entry.

his steps were smooth and straight to an unnatural degree as it wasn’t something anyone would usually notice and you forbid the thought that you cared. he turned his head this way and that to take in your space and all the decor you had taken the time to gather and put up. his gaze held a hint of calculation as he ascertained his thoughts though he didn’t voice approval or lack of. it wasn’t exactly comfortable to know a man so obsessed with perfection as Sunday was sizing up your room for anything askew but if he noticed anything, he didn’t voice it in favour of walking further in with the rhythmic clicks of his shoes on the hardwood. you almost screamed watching him approach the chair you had previously sat in and put himself there instead. his eyebrows furrowed and your shoulders raised, ready to squeak out some sort of excuse for him to actually please not look at what he’s sitting on but he was simply faster. a gloved hand retrieved the book and he dusted off the cover, though there was certainly no dust to accumulate in all of sixty seconds, before his face hardened even further and his cheeks flushed bright vermillion.

“this is…” Sunday trailed off not knowing how exactly to broach the subject of your reading material. he flipped the novel over in his hands to read the back and you almost died; hopefully the floor would soon swallow you up. “quite the choice. fascinating, i’d go so far to say,” he cleared his throat and you could swear the corners of his lips were quirked up for a moment, “are the other Nameless familiar with your taste in writing? or is this perhaps a naughty secret of yours? i’m beyond curious and this is seemingly better than any light chatter i could’ve produced on my own to pick your brain.” you fumbled over every word in your vocabulary before opting just to shake your head, eyes wide and palms suddenly damp. “i see. they’d be curious to know, i’d think,” Sunday stood back up from the chair and easily made it across the room once more, “a precious member of theirs indulging in grossly sinful material. perhaps we should take this to the parlour car for all to judge.”

after making a couple choked noises of protest, you slapped a hand on his chest rapidly shaking your head, “n-no!! they definitely do not need to see it!!” given your unfamiliarity with the man you really couldn’t tell if he was serious or not and certainly didn’t want to take the risk. he hummed at your desperate response and brought a hand to his chin to fake contemplate his next action. his nonchalance bordered on infuriating as if he hadn’t just threatened to put you as some sort of gross pervert to all of your dear companions. the embarrassment of such a thing would surely leave you with no choice but to depart the plane of the living. what a nuisance.

“the perhaps repenting for such things would be your best choice. as the former Bronze Melodia, i’m the perfect person for such a task, no?” Sunday seemed even more smug at his own suggestion, “i’m a very good listener, i’ll have you know.” you hesitated briefly, mortified at his suggestion, but if this was what you needed to do to avoid everyone knowing then so be it. dropping your head so you didn’t have to bear looking at him you responded in the form of a nod and he hummed in a pleased tone. “very good choice, little vixen. i expect you to follow my every word.”

with that, he lead you back to the same chair and once more seated himself before beckoning you to kneel between his legs. an indignant huff left your mouth but you listened to him anyways and dropped to the floor making sure your posture was perfection; you expect he’d scold you otherwise. he cleared his throat before speaking, “you must be honest with every answer you provide me. firstly tell me why you were drawn to such literature and secondly tell me how many novels of this variety you’ve read before.” you fiddled with your fingers and pretended to ponder his questions to put off having to answer but he snapped his fingers and arched one flawless brow, signalling you to hurry up.

“i… isn’t it obvious why i’d be reading that? the content is arousing,” you cringed at the admission and poor imitation of his speech, “and does it matter how many i’ve read? i honestly couldn’t give you a number if i tried…” Sunday chuckles at your response, amused at your flustered state and obviously enjoying exercising his power over you. he nodded in acknowledgment with an expression that could only be described as pitying as if he hadn’t put you in this position himself.

“very interesting. you’ve got quite fascinating hobbies, little dove,” with his words he leaned forwards to twirl a strand of your hair before grabbing your chin to keep your gaze on him alone. “i’m curious still. when you read such things, where do you imagine yourself? and who do you imagine it with? is it Dan Heng? or maybe you like your partners older, Mr. Yang perhaps? are you more interested in girls and is your taste more suited to miss March or miss Himeko?” his eyes seemed to shine with satisfaction at the way your jaw dropped in shock and your own wings twitched, curling in to attempt to cover your face. Sunday simply brushed them away and took great pleasure in knowing the touch was so very intimate. left with no choice you mumbled out a teary eyed answer.

“this is humiliating and invasive but i… i’m always on the submissive end. and i definitely don’t have any interest in my friends, they’re friends and nothing more,” you let your eye wander elsewhere with a thick swallow and attempt to stave off the impending sobs, “i wouldn’t consider us friends though… and i can’t help that i think of you.” he broke into a grin that read as predatory like a wolf that finally caught the deer. perhaps more akin to the peregrine and dove. Sunday only held your chin tighter.

“i had assumed as much. your face truthfully reveals all emotions and thought regardless of any attempts to conceal. it’s quite adorable,” he seemed to think for a moment before speaking again, “maybe we should test out your fantasies. compare your thoughts to reality and maybe it’ll be a sweet dream in its own right.” left with no room to argue, you wouldn’t anyways as even thought it was mortifying, how could you turn down a chance to be with a man you’d listed after over simple glances.

he helped your rise from the ground before settling you in his lap. through your shameful admirations of his face and form you’d always noticed how sultry his eyes naturally seemed to be with low lids and a firm gaze but he seemed even more sharp than anytime before. Sundays hands landed on your thighs where he smoothed over your skin and seemed pleased though a touch unsatisfied. you felt near humiliated at his lack of praise but your heart jumped as he coolly removed his gloves and set them along the arm of the chair before lowering his hands once more and nearly purred at the feeling. you felt like a victorian maiden seeing his bare hands for the first time as he appreciated the soft plush skin, palming and dragging his hands along everywhere he saw fit; not a spot was left untouched. his hands slowly slid up further to dip beneath the edge of your skirt and play with the trim along the bloomers you always wore beneath. it seemed as though he got off on layers of clothing if his own outfit was any indication paired with the melodic noises he made at every new piece of fabric. his hands easily slipped around you to undo the zipper and clasp of your skirt, helping you manoeuvre it off followed closely by the shorts. he turned his attention to your top, playing with the neckline before peeling it off as well and leaving you in nothing but your undergarments and jewellery atop his fully clothed lap.

he turned himself to your neck and licked his leo’s before leaning down to place soft kisses and to gently suckle and lick along your skin. you whimpered and shifted in his lap with and air of desperation, earning a chuckle against your throat, hands sliding along your stomach and waist, and a muttered praise you didn’t catch due to the fog swimming in your brain. Sunday gently rocked you back and forth along his lap, the stiffness beneath his trousers evident with every drag. bruises now speckled your skin like diamonds and he leaned back with a sigh to admire his painting. you reached to slide the jacket from his shoulders but he caught your wrists and disapprovingly tsked at you with a faux expression of disappointment.

“none of that, little dove. you’ll take me with only my cock pulled from my trousers. a befitting coupling for us, considering there’s not a doubt in my mind you take pleasure in this humiliation. for a little birdie you most certainly act like a dog in heat,” his fingers danced along your wings and drew a full body shiver from you. Sunday shifted his hips slightly to undo the button and zipper keeping you apart before fishing down his pants to pull out the dick you’d been longing for. he was just as pretty as his face and the tip shone with the evidence of his own arousal. you had to catch yourself before you started actually drooling and making a further fool of yourself. tender hands tugged you upwards to align himself with your needy and weeping hole, brushing himself back and forth teasingly. you almost smacked his chest at the action but he was quick to ease you down before you could. the sighs you both let out synchronized perfectly to create a private duet.

he was a perfect fit inside you. his cock nudged along every oh so sensitive place and curved just right to prod against each delicious spot. Sunday gently gripped your hips to set a rhythm that was intimate and deep, every thrust placed perfectly. you had assumed he was a virgin but his skill seemed to say otherwise. praise flowed from his mouth like a fountain between every delicate sigh and moan as you bounced atop him. you couldn’t help the desperate cries and sobs that left you. one of his hands left your hips to instead dip between your folds and quickly find the pretty bud with his fingertips to play with in tune.

“simply gorgeous. tight, warm, and dripping. you fit me like a glove,” he panted out, “you’re so beautiful above me like this. perhaps i’ve found something new to worship.” Sunday mindlessly let his mouth run and with every sweet phrase you tipped closer and closer to the edge. he felt you clenching clear as day and your hips move slightly more sloppy and desperate. he cooed gently, fingertips moving faster against you to encourage your peak and when you finally tipped over your back arched and your wings fluttered with each pleasured cry and squeeze of your insides. he followed closely behind and warmth spread through your guts. you could’ve sworn he glowed with the force of his own end, every drop seeping inside.

pulling you close to his chest, he smoothed one hand over your back as the other came to dance through your hair. Sunday hummed a tune you couldn’t recognize but was stunning nonetheless. spent and satisfied, you let your eyes shut and bathed in the afterglow until he gently prodded you to go wash up. your whole body was sticky with sweat and when you slid off him with a whimper pearly globs of his seed dripped out of you. you truthfully didn’t want to imagine how he felt through all those layers of clothes but you took pride in every wrinkle staining his typical flawless appearance; it was symbolic of your own victory.

he didn’t hold back, bathing along with you and gently cleaning you of everything between peppered kisses. you hadn’t expected romance to come so easy from Sunday himself but he was evidently well versed in the art. you took time to memorize every freckle and detail of his body finally getting to see him bare. you didn’t miss the flush that rose to his cheeks or the way his wings curled inwards to hide his flustered state and you felt proud to finally get him to feel embarrassed. he was beautiful and you hoped many more encounters would come. maybe you hoped for the relationship to bloom into something deeper too.

[childrenofcain-if]

Imagine C catching Mc and D making out on the couch of their dorm's common room 👀 I'm positively certain they'd ban D from ever inviting Mc ever again

the evening started simply enough. you and D were lounging on the couch in the common room, tucked away in a quiet corner. it was late, and C had gone out to the library, leaving the space to the two of you.

D was sprawled across the couch, somehow managing to look comfortable and slightly smug, like they were already reading the thoughts drifting around in your head. you’d been talking about nothing, really—college, summer break plans, dumb stuff—but with D, even the simplest things could become something flirtratious. they had this way of smiling with a slight quirk at the corner of their mouth, or of letting their fingers trace idle patterns on your arm that made your heart do a little flip.

it didn’t take long before D closed the distance between you, inch by inch, their fingers finding your hand, then your shoulder, moving slowly as if testing the waters. their gray gaze was both daring and playful, a glint in their eye that practically dared you to look away. but you didn’t. you couldn’t. instead, you felt your cheeks flush as they leaned in, catching your lips in a soft, warm kiss that seemed to ignite everything inside you.

the kiss deepened, growing from soft to heated, and soon D was leaning more into you, their hands roaming your back, your waist, drawing you closer, and you barely registered how your jacket had slipped off, how D’s t-shirt was now on the floor, until you were both half-leaning, half-sprawled against each other. the only sounds were your shared breaths and the soft rustling of fabric as the world faded, leaving just the warmth of their touch and the spark that crackled between you.

suddenly, the door to the common room swung open with an abrupt, almost dramatic force, and there was C, standing in the doorway. they blinked, eyes widening as they took in the scene. C went rigid, looking as though they’d stumbled upon you two smoking weed. their mouth opened, then closed, and for a split second, they looked like they might just turn on their heel and walk out.

“oh my fucking god,” C stammered, their cheeks flushing an almost comedic shade of red. “what the hell are you two doing?”

you and D snapped apart, sitting up in a rush, and it took all your willpower not to laugh, though your face was burning with embarrassment.

“C!” you managed to squeak, desperately adjusting your shirt. “it’s, um, not what it looks like?”

“really?” C replied, raising an eyebrow as they folded their arms, a familiar, indignant edge in their tone. “because it sure looks like this was headed somewhere.”

D, ever the unbothered one, gave a casual shrug, smirking just a bit as they ran a hand through their messy hair. “don’t get all dramatic, C. we were just hanging out.”

“hanging out?” C shot back, looking equal parts horrified and disbelieving. “is that what we’re calling the fact that you two were practically dry humping each other while being half-naked?”

D chuckled, clearly enjoying C’s dismay, leaning back into the couch with a look that said they weren’t about to apologize. “well, it wasn’t supposed to be a big deal. you’re the one who barged in.”

“this is my suite too, you know,” C muttered, rubbing their temples as if they were trying to will themselves to calm down. “plus, this is the common room, not your personal love nest.”

“it’s late,” D pointed out, undeterred. “who was going to walk in here at this hour?”

“me,” C replied, still glaring. “i was going to walk in. unless their—” they pointed at you, “—tongue down your throat made you get amnesia or something.”

you tried to hold back a laugh, mumbling, “C, it’s not like we planned for this to happen when you walked in…”

C threw their hands up, clearly done. “obviously! but do you have any idea how hard it’s going to be to erase this…this image from my mind?”

D leaned forward, resting their chin on their hand with a nonchalant grin. “think of it as expanding your puritan horizons.”

C gave them a look that could kill. “you have two seconds to get off that goddamn couch before i officially ban you from bringing anyone into this room ever again.”

“alright, alright, we’re up.” D held up their hands in mock surrender, but there was a glimmer of amusement in their eyes as they glanced at you. “guess we’ve officially been cockblocked.”

“i didn’t expect anything else, honestly,” you replied, throwing D a wry smile.

C shook their head, clearly still flustered. “i swear, you two, if you’re going to do this sort of thing, just do it in D’s room.”

D’s grin widened as they draped an arm over your shoulder, still shirtless, only making C roll their eyes at their unabashed nature. “oh, don’t worry. we’ll make sure of not being in your line of sight the next time.”

C looked like they were about to explode, taking a deep, steadying breath as they pointed toward the door. “out. both of you. now. get some cold air or get each other off somewhere else before i lose what little patience i have left.”

with an exaggerated sigh, D quickly got dressed and stood up, giving you a wink as they reached for your hand. “guess our night’s over.”

as the two of you made your way to the door, C muttered something under their breath that you couldn’t quite catch, but you were pretty sure you heard the words “unbelievable” and “absolutely shameless.” just as you reached the door, C called out, one last note of warning in their voice.

“and don’t even think about bringing that…” C gestured vaguely, as if searching for a word, “energy back here again when you come back, D. or so help me…”

D threw a grin over their shoulder, giving C a cheerful thumbs-up. “got it, boss. we’ll keep our ‘energy’ under control next time.”

“good night,” C snapped, practically pushing you both out the door, the exasperation plain in every line of their face.

as soon as the door shut behind you, you burst into laughter, the sound echoing down the empty hallway. D joined in, their laughter warm and genuine, a little spark of mischief dancing in their eyes. they gave your hand a squeeze, leaning in close with a smirk that told you they were ready to continue where you left off.

“next time,” they murmured, voice low and soft, “we’ll make sure to choose a place C’s snobby ass can’t interrupt us.”

you couldn’t help but smile, feeling the last of your embarrassment fade as you walked together down the hall, the warmth of D’s hand in yours, the quiet thrill of the evening lingering long after the laughter had faded.

[quosterswampdregs]

I have a question is it possible that we could get some internal shots of that rhino characters nostrils

This is a fic a month in the making for a monthly drawing prompt thing that I'm a part of!! The fic is below!!

Rhinos, Rodents, and Rhinitis

Of course, the best ENT specialist in the city of Rore was located in Rodentia County. Bridger felt he was simply being set up for failure when his doctor recommended and referred him—a wooly rhino—to the place where the smallest folk roamed. There were dozens of ways this whole ordeal could take a turn for the worst, and the more he thought about it, the more worried he became.

The grounds trembled. Mice and moles leaving the nearby mall paused with widened eyes as Bridger carefully made his way along the central pavement reserved for larger folk. At the peak of the day, the pavement was more of a thoroughfare, and many of the residents used it for foot traffic. You even had the occasional food stands and vendors propped up like toy models. In short, this area served the smallest first and wasn’t utilized with folks like him in mind. And why would it—Gargantua County was his stomping grounds.

A shiver ran up Bridger’s spine. He was just over eleven feet in height, and most of the regulars on this side of town were 5-10 inches on average. Sure, the occasional fox or feline would break up crowds of chipmunks and hamsters, but they weren’t even half the height Bridger was.

“Snff—!” Bridger’s current predicament didn’t help him either. The only reason he was nearby was because of an ongoing case of the sniffles that required a more specialized doctor to take a look at. Dr. Eiche was apparently proficient in larger patients, too. One would think that she’d set up her clinic in a space more accommodating to that clientele, but beggars can’t be choosers, Bridger supposed. He had been struggling with an itchy nose for too long, and it had gotten to the point he couldn’t go twenty minutes without a sneezing fit. His gait was a hurried one, to put it shortly.

The road led him away from the main marketplace, luckily. It was by design, for such an area with a high population to be well-sheltered and hidden under hamster tubes and wheels in constant squeaky buzz. Instead, where he was headed lay beyond the little city park, where bonsai trees and miniature flowers marked out a pleasant verdant meadow.

The subtle, natural perfumes reached his large nostrils. The muscular rims lifted with a few delicate sniffles. At least, as delicate as a woolly rhino of his stature could muster.

But the sniffing only urged on a once-dormant tickle at the back of his nose. One that was persistent enough to make his eyes water a bit.

“Nduh…h-hhHHHh..?” He huffed through his widening nostrils, unaware of the tiny civilians abandoning their blankets on the hill in favor of rushing for cover. His walking slowed to a stop, his brows pinched, and his head tilted back. 

“h-hhUHh..! hHuhDSSCHHhhw!!” If not for smothering his sneeze into his elbow, certainly a few unlucky mice would have tumbled into the central pond at the bottom of the valley. The area had gone quiet instead, with worried eyes all around peeking up his way.

“H-hHHdk!” Something tickled badly and persisted even after he sneezed. “H-HUHh..! hUDDschhhuh!!”

Just what was it? What was itching his nose so badly? Was it a festering cold? Surely it wasn’t allergies, despite his tearful eyes. 

“Snddrkk—! Snrk! HhHddih-! HehH! Hehh…” It got worse when he sniffed. It never felt satisfied, only irritated. He couldn’t afford to stand about and dwell on it though: answers awaited him ahead. 

As the city park ebbed out behind him, the urban community sprouted on all sides once more. This wasn’t the downtown district, but the smaller and quieter part of town where one would expect to find a doctor’s office. And here, Bridger did, a clinic that was across from a library, about six feet tall. There was no way to fit in there, even the smaller anthros like wolves and badgers would struggle. However, he watched carefully as a fox got his ear examined by a nurse, sitting on a comfy stool resting on a plot of land just beside the building. 

The reception area offered one other large cushioned seat outside, too. Beside it, at eye level, a small outcropping with a desk was built into the wall, likely as a check-in station. A squirrel dressed in blue scrubs stepped outside of the building to his right and peered up with wide eyes. She hurried back inside, and the door to the front desk swung open only five minutes later.

“Hello, dear! Sorry for the wait,” she spoke, out of breath as she walked up to the desk and leaned out, “do you have an appointment with us?”

“I do—sndff! Udh…referral from Dr. Kitzah?”

“Yep! I see your name right here, Mr. Easton! I’ll go ahead and send a check-in portal to your phone, feel free to fill that out and the doctor will be out shortly!”

Bridger helped himself to a seat on the cushion. It fit him nicely, too, which settled his nerves—he wasn’t the biggest patient they’ve seen, and this cushion was proof of it. He looked down as his phone buzzed, and a survey came up for him to fill out. Right. Allergies, medications, consent forms…speaking of, there was a section for patients over 8 feet in height. From a brief scan, it seemed to be just warning him that the array of tools and methods used during any procedures may change depending on the size of the patient. That made sense, it was hard to imagine a large stethoscope getting any reading on a little mouse!

Not long after everything was signed, and his vitals were taken (which was a slow process when the nurse staff were moles and mice), a chipmunk wearing scrubs and a white coat stepped onto a balcony to his left. She wore a stethoscope—seemingly for aesthetics—and a belt of all sorts of little tools at her hip.

“Afternoon, Easton!” For once, this was a rodent that didn’t seem the least bit scared of him. If anything, her eyes glittered with enthusiasm and anticipation. The confidence was refreshing, and it calmed him down further. “I see you’ve got a referral from my good friend Dr. Kitzah? What seems to be the trouble?”

Bridger would’ve answered with a sentence if not for his eyes losing focus and his nostrils flaring. His breath got weak and shivery, and one of his ears flickered. “hhHh..! Sorry—hHuhH—uHHDSchhhff!!” He sneezed roughly into his elbow. He felt so exposed out here, the folks walking past on the main road casting their glances his way. “My nose won’t stop itching, even with allergy medicine…I’m just sneezing a tremendous amount.”

“Do your allergies clear your other symptoms?”

“Oh yeah, my throat doesn’t get sore like usual.”

“That’s good…well, the good news is—oh, could I step onto your palm? Thank you—the good news is that this sounds like some sort of foreign irritant. Is there any one side that feels more itchy than the other?” She gestured up to her own nose as if to emphasize. She wobbled a bit and caught her balance when Bridger lifted his paw up so that the two would be eye level.

“Mnnhh, snff..! I-I haven’t thought about it that much. I…I g-guess the…th’right is more itch…hhitchH!” His breath caught in his throat with a few hitches. She leaned forward after standing on the edge of his hand, pressing her paws up against his upper lip. There was enough height to peer into his right nostril, which, when flared, was like a small cavern. Her eyes glittered as she marveled it, and clicked on a small headlight to further examine the red, itchy nasal walls. It was slick with mess, but particularly more red the further back she looked.

His muzzle scrunched—large wrinkles formed under her small fingers. She climbed them like the rungs of a ladder, at least to where she could grab hold of the large horn on the top of his snout. Great timing too, she could feel the wind and air shuffling about as brought in great breaths. The hoods of his nostrils lifted further, and she felt herself slip a bit towards his eyes as his head tilted back.

 “HDk—hdT! hiHsshiH—!! hIDDTSHhh’tt!! ihh! hDTSHh’tt!!” Two violent stifles, and the first had nearly flung the chipmunk doctor off. She hugged onto his horn for stability, lower half draping between his red nostrils like a cheap hood ornament.

“Woah—! Bless—bless you!” She gasped, kicking her legs to try and find footing before his palm came up to catch her.

“Snffkk! A-are you okay?? I got scared I sneezed you off,” he chuckled bashfully, cupping his paws under her so that she could stand on his palms again.

“I’m alright! I think I know what’s been causing you some trouble…” she insisted, beckoning his head closer. She looked into his left nostril to clarify, and with her small ears lifted, she reached into it. She held the rim of his nostril above her head, and marveled for a moment at how strong and flexible the muscle was. It took all of her strength just to make enough space for her to reach in. Her hand felt around, which made Bridger’s shoulders jump, and with a sharp prick, she reemerged. In her hand, a seed pod with a fuzzy white plumage and a few hooks on the underside.

“These are typically found soaring high near forests!” She lifted it so he could get a better look, “It’s a pod, they hook onto clothes or skin and open up, releasing these seeds.”

Taking a fistful of the white fuzz, she gave it a tug, and five or six seeds emerged, each adorned with wispy fibers to help carry them out of her hand and into the air.

“Nuh-! S-so there’s…hHhuh?” He pointed tearfully towards his right nostril, and she nodded.

“There’s one of these at the back of your nose, and the fuzzy stuff is what’s making you so sneezy. I can get it out for you!”

Bridger gave a small nod, but the hitching breath had taken over. His nostrils, once relaxed, now flared wide with desperation. She has grabbed one of his nostrils, but that made him stutter in worry.

“IhHuh- I’mbguddAAH-!!” He needed to sneeze, he didn’t have that much time to translate, “heeeh—huh…hdK—hDT!! G-gu’ddasnEHH—! hEEZE—hHEEH!!”

“Well, don’t be shy then, get it out while you can,” she patted between his nostrils, sounding largely unbothered. He lowered her from eye level, opting instead to hold his doctor to his chest as he gasped and tilted his head back.

“hEHHD’sshht!! huhhH—hHrsshtt!!” Those stifles were sounding less and less satisfying by the second. This one made a shiver run up his spine.

“Bless you. Good to know you sneeze in pairs, it seems!” The doctor claimed. She was lifted back up towards eye-level, and reached towards his left nostril. The seed there had been knocked free from all of his sneezing, and by reaching in shoulder-deep with her cheek pressed to his nostril rim, she pulled it out. That was the left side done, from what she could see! “The seeds seem pretty deep in your right nostril, but I should be the perfect size to loosen them by hand. Just brace yourself, alright?”

“B…brace myself?” He breathed in understanding, lifting both his ears. Was she going to take them out manually? By…getting up there? “Uh—alright—just be careful…”

Getting past his nostril was a bit of a squeeze. She stretched her arms forward and felt her hips get stuck against the rim, at least until she could get her footing. As she suspected, it was much bigger on the inside, and enough space to get a handhold and pull the other half of her body inside. It was just right, in Goldilocks' terms. It was not too roomy, not too tight, just enough space for her to wriggle about on all fours. It left a downside though—she’d have to back out of his nose backward if she wanted to get out. That, or maybe Bridger would need to tug her tail.

Meanwhile, on the outside, Bridger crossed his eyes worriedly, watching her immensely fluffy tail barely disappear from his line of sight. Her footfalls were gentle and careful, but her tail was more mindless, brushing gingerly across the inner rim of his nostril. Tears spilled over his eyes as his efforts to hold back were becoming more and more fruitless.

To any passerby, he simply looked like a woolly rhino with a horrendous allergy spell. At least, until you took the whipping chipmunk tail sticking out of one nostril into account.

“hhHuhh..! H-hhHuh..!” His breath felt thin, his eyes lost their focus. He tilted his head back slightly, and the slick ground beneath the doctor’s feet made her skid further forward. Her tail almost fully disappeared from view as she slipped deeper into his nasal cavity, and the half-frantic movements made his hitches grow.

“Easy, easy…!” She insisted, voice echoing out of his other nostril. She smoothed out the twitching tissue around her, trying her best to mitigate the harm.

“Y-you’re makiHh..! Maki’g iHH…! Wuh—hHUHH!!” She was making it worse, but he couldn’t vocalize it before he gasped. “hHUUDschh’XXT!!”

Gritting his teeth, he snapped forward, stifling what would have certainly been tremendous. Dr. Eiche slid backward towards the entrance of his nostril, up until her tail emerged along with one of her legs. The rest was firmly lodged in the rim of his nostril, and she took a moment to gather her bearings. Her leg kicked, her tail lashed, and she tried with little success to pull herself back inside.

“Bless you…! A uh—! A little help?”

“Mmh..? H-hhuh-?” He asked, still recovering himself. “SNDrrRKK!”

She was just about to clarify when a violent snort pulled her back inside fully. Letting out a surprised yelp, she slid again towards the back of his nose, this time finding a grip on the nasal walls on either side of her. There, in front, was the half-opened seed pod, its white fibers tickling and fluttering against his swollen and irritated nasal walls. At last, this little excursion would come to an end—! She reached up and carefully plucked it free with both hands, holding it to her chest so that none of the loosened seeds would go drifting anywhere. Got it! Now she just needed to…get out.

“Alright, coming out now..!” She announced to him, trying to slowly shuffle backward. It was next to impossible, the walls were too slick for the doctor to get any sort of confident foothold. The roof was just too low for her to fully stand up either. Her attempt to stand resulted in her falling chest-first, and she winced as the fluffy seed pod brushed up against the sensitive red patches of his nasal walls. As expected, she felt her environment tense, and could hear Bridger’s uneasy huffs of irritation all around her.

If a stifle could nearly send her out, she imagined a full sneeze would do the job too. Her fingers outstretched, the pinpoint of her nails brushing against the soft cushioning tissue around her. She lifted her tail to tickle at the roof of his nose, and let out a yelp as his nose twitched around her.

“H-hhduH-!” Bridger huffed, rubbing under his nostrils with a finger. Goodness, just what was she doing up there? The feathery feeling against the back of his nose was worsening by the second. She did say she was coming out now—was this a way of speeding up the process? “HHhuhh—good bec-cUh-hHHHh…because I n’deEh! huhh…!”

The thought that she was purposefully tickling him magnified the feeling. That every movement and motion was with the intention of making him sneeze. Something was tickling the roof of his nose back there—was that her tail perhaps?? And the prickles further back—her claws? His nostrils flared wide, and his eyes fluttered shut. If she was doing this intentionally, he shouldn’t fight back.

The doctor slid deeper as Bridger tilted his head back. Desperately holding onto the plushy membranes with her hind paws, she danced her fingers and the fibers of the seed pod across his inner nose, hoping to snag more of a reaction. The redness was especially tender to the touch, warm and slightly swollen from agitation, she grabbed a handful of it, and used her other hand with the seed to tickle its sides. That must have been his sweet spot, because it was making him hitch and huff like she had never heard before.

“Hikk—hHuh!! Hddsht?! hUH!” He puffed his large chest, despite his hands rushing to it to compress it back down. When he sneezed at last, he tipped his head forward, cupping his hands in front of his face and pinning his tiny ears. “hUHHDDSCHhhhuuh!!”

However, as he looked at his hands just after such a tremendous sneeze, he was surprised to see his doctor not cradled in his palms. She was still in his nose—was she stuck? He sincerely hoped not. He clamped down his unoccupied nostril with a finger, and began to chuff and snort obnoxiously. One particular snort caused the doctor to slip, and her tail and hind legs poked out of his nostril. Her squirming was more than enough to spur on another breathy set of hitches, which were much deeper and broader than before. They resulted in a ground-shaking sound enough to send tiny cars shrieking and wailing their alarms in a three-block radius.

“hAAHDDSCHHHHUHH!!” It was obnoxious-sounding, truly, but it got the job done. He was holding the doctor securely in his hands, batting tears from his lashes in the aftermath.

“Goodness, bless you, firstly,” she shakily stood up with her fur slicked into spiky tufts. “Are you alright?”

“M-me? I’m okay, are you alright?!” Clearly he still couldn’t comprehend the last five or ten minutes, which she didn’t blame him for. He couldn’t help it, after all!

“I’m just fine. We got those seed pods out, so you should be smooth sailing,” the doctor hummed, taking off her coat to wring it dry, but to no avail. “I think a prescription is in order to send you off with.”

“Mmh?” Bridger was halfway through rubbing his nose when an eye flickered over.

“Yeah! There’s a new type of medication on the market. The side effects might be a touch…strange, but I think it’ll do you some benefit to try out and keep me posted!”

[morganas-pendragons]

first kiss | celebrimbor

I cannot find ANY gifs of him in s2 and it's driving me nuts

anyway have some rapid fire drabbles (anything under 1K is a drabble for ME lol but I know they're supposed to be 500 or less sH) - @pentaghasm inspired this one

***

He's been staring at the sketches he's drawn of you for what feels longer than appropriate. You have barely left Celebrimbor's side since you arrived in Eregion mere weeks ago. He's shifted his whole life around you. Around your care, your presence in his Forge, the lack of memories, and your struggles in finding out who you are as a person.

He's not concerned about who you were or what you've done before meeting him. What Celebrimbor is concerned about is the deeply rooted affections that he knows he feels deep in his heart. They have only grown fonder in the time the two of you have spent together. The cups of tea shared by the fireplace with the whispered, shameful words of exchanging histories about the House of Fëanor that he is certain you will judge him for just as everyone else does, as he is the last living descendant.

He's memorized every individual interaction down to the detail, but there's just something about that one that sticks in his mind's eye.

"You are not them. Just because you share the same blood does not mean you will make the same mistakes."

Celebrimbor is certain then that he's grown too comfortable around you, around his desires for companionship and his desperate need to no longer feel so alone. You are willing to give him your time and undivided attention because you are interested in him as a person, as Celebrimbor, and not as the Lord and the Greatest of Elven Smiths.

This line of thinking has wholly consumed him. Amid tonight's storm, Celebrimbor has sheltered inside the quiet of his Forge while the rest of the smiths have returned to their homes to be with their families. You previously mentioned going and spending time in the libraries to try and jog your memories with what little images you had to work with before leaving him alone for the evening with promises to later return for tea.

His feet lead him out of the Forge and into the courtyard before Celebrimbor can properly process that it is raining. The path ends at the doors to the Library where he stops short and freezes once he realizes you've opened the door before he thought to knock upon it.

You're wearing his robes. The ones he'd given you your first night in the city. The red ones. They're his favorite.

"Celebrimbor," You muse softly as you drum your fingers against the doorway. "You're soaking wet. What-"

"You have consumed me," Your eyes widen as the words stumble past his lips, and he cannot help himself. "Thoughts of you have consumed me and will not seem to stop. You are the only Elf to cross into these gates that has embraced me as Celebrimbor, without looking for the Greatest of the Elven Smiths or the Lord of Eregion. I-"

You peer up at him now, wet hair clinging to your face as you step fully out of the shelter of the doorway and into the rain that falls upon you both. Your fingers idly reach for his own and squeeze when you recognize the sharp intake of breath at such a simple offer of touch.

"What do you want, Celebrimbor?" You ask softly.

"I want the pleasure of asking if it is okay to kiss you, my Lady. I have been wishing for it for quite a while now."

"You chose me in a time I thought I would be alone forever," The words spill past your lips as he cradles your jaw and tenderly runs his thumbs over your cheeks. "But I will promise to you for all our eternity that I will choose you. Now, then, in every lifetime."

The color of your cheeks darkens as you nod your confirmation and he is upon you, in your space, trembling fingers slotting against the curve of your jaw before you surge upward to meet his mouth halfway. Something broken echoes in the back of his throat when you pull on his robes to tug him closer, curling your own fingers into the wet curls that press against his temples before Celebrimbor forces himself to pull away and allow you both to breathe.

You make a note to remember how often Celebrimbor reacts to even the simplest exchange of touches: A graze of your fingers across the backs of his hands, embracing him in a hug, simply even holding his face in your hands.

Celebrimbor has gone starved of affection for too long.

His kiss is deep and warm and full of longing, as every moment with him has been since you've arrived.

"That..." You whisper, hesitant to pull any further apart as your breath fans his face. His fingers are so warm where they rest against your cheeks. You realize then that you want him to touch you, to always touch you, to feel that warmth that shines from the depths of his soul in every part of you it can reach. "That was wonderful. You are wonderful."

Celebrimbor grins before he tugs on the cuffs of the too long sleeves that cling to your body with rain water.

"I appreciate your affinity for stealing my clothing."

"Stealing? You gave these to me, if memory serves right." You chide, laughing as he links his fingers with yours and leads you back in the direction of the Forge. Joy is a look that you need to see more often from him. "I think I wear this color quite well. Don't you agree?"

There's a confidence in his step as Celebrimbor sweeps you inside of the Tower with his arm wound around your waist, face inches from your own as you rest your hand on his chest.

Growing affections indeed.

"They look far better on you than they ever did on me," You grin and swoop in to place a kiss on his cheek, laughing as you skip up the stairs to dart into the Forge toward the fire so the two of you can dry in its warmth. "But I would appreciate them not being ruined by the rain. Let us have our tea and let the robes dry by the warmth of the Forge."

You frown.

"I don't have anything to wear right now, Celebrimbor-" You protest. He has the audacity to look smug. "Oh. Oh, you are evil-"

The Elven Smith holds up his newest prize, a stunning green and gold cloak he's had specifically commissioned for you. He flutters his lashes innocently.

You're done for.

"A kiss for a cloak then, hm?"