#So it’s actually not that bad for me to say this
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( する ) : ETERNAL SUNSHINE ⟡ ASKING FOR ANOTHER KISS
── 𝗔𝗟𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗡𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗩𝗘𝗟𝗬 ⸝⸝ 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝖻𝖾𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖺 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌
✶ 𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈 : enhypen + fem!r 1OOOwc ⟡ fluff oneshots headcanons ࿁ them being bad down for you, skinship, petnames. && 【 VOGUE 】
다니 : hehe i love bad down enhypen.. it always make me giggle TT
𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚 “please, baby,” he whines, his voice barely above a whisper, fingers tugging gently at the hem of your sweater like he’s afraid you’ll pull away. his big, doe-like eyes—those bambi eyes—are locked onto yours, wide and glossy with desperation, as if the world might end if you don’t give in. “just one kiss. one, yeah? promise i won’t ask for more.” but he’s lying—you know he is—because his gaze keeps flickering to your lips, and the way his hand slips to your waist betrays him completely. “you’re so mean,” he murmurs, his lips curling into the softest pout. “how can you look this pretty and still torture me like this? c’mon, angel. please, love, just one. i'll do anything,” the second your lips brush his, he melts—actually melts. his grip on your waist tightens, and a muffled, satisfied hum escapes him.
𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚 “angel, just one kiss,” jay pleads, his voice soft, eyes shimmering as he pushes a pile of shopping bags toward you. “here, all the dresses you glanced at when we went on our mall trip. i’ve been saving them for you.” you blink at the heap—every color, every fabric, exactly what you admired or some that you just glanced at for a split second. “baby, you didn’t have to get all this… just for one kiss,” you murmur. he leans closer, a teasing grin tugging at his lips. “but i’d do anything for you, you know that.” you don’t know if he’s trying to spoil you or if he just really wanted a kiss from you. with a small laugh, you lean in, pressing a kiss to his lips. jay beams, smug but smitten, as if he’s won the world.
𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡 jake’s arm is draped lazily over your waist as he pulls you closer, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your back. the quiet hum of the tv fills the room, but he’s barely paying attention, his focus entirely on you. “you’re comfy,” he mumbles. he adds, “i think i like this spot.” you glance at him, and he’s already looking at you, a tiny smirk playing on his lips. before you can ask what he means, he leans in, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss. he pulls back just enough to see your wide-eyed expression, his grin growing as he teases, “what? you looked like you wanted one.”
𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗡 sunghoon’s sitting across from you, chin propped on his hand, nodding occasionally as you ramble on about your day. at first, you think he’s being attentive, but something feels off, his responses short and quiet. when you finally glance at him, he’s not even meeting your eyes. his gaze is fixed on your lips, unwavering and far too obvious to ignore. your words falter, and the room falls silent, but he doesn’t look away. “were you even listening to me?” you ask, crossing your arms. he blinks, finally dragging his eyes back up to yours, but there’s no apology in them. you sigh, leaning forward, and he meets you halfway, his lips brushing yours like he’s been waiting forever. when he pulls back, his smirk says it all: it was worth the wait.
𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗢𝗢 sunoo sits beside you, arms crossed and lips slightly pursed, clearly unimpressed by how long you’re making him wait. “just give me a kiss already,” he says, no hesitation, his voice laced with playful impatience. you bite back a grin, deciding to tease him, because how could you not? “hmm, where do you want it? the cheek? the nose-” you ask. his eyes narrow, and for a moment, you think he’s going to give in to your teasing, but instead, he moves faster than you expect, closing the gap and pressing his lips to yours. he pulls back. “there,” he says with a satisfied smile, leaning back smugly. “exactly where i wanted it.” mission accomplished.
𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡 jungwon is folding laundry beside you. you glance at him, his focused expression almost too cute, and the words slip out before you can stop them. “kiss me.” he pauses mid-fold, looking at you like you’ve just handed him the most important task of his life. “okay,” he says simply, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your lips. but then he doesn’t stop. another kiss lands on the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, then your forehead. giggles bubble out of you as he peppers your face with kisses, completely forgetting about the laundry. “jungwon!” you laugh, trying to push him away, but he just grins, pulling you closer. “you said kiss me,” he teases, planting one last kiss on your lips. “i’m just being thorough.”
𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜 you’re sitting across from riki when he starts tapping his fingers on the table, his eyes darting to your lips every five seconds. “what’s taking you so long?” he mutters. you raise a brow, amused. “taking me so long for what?" “nothing,” he grumbles, looking away. but then his impatience gets the best of him. “you’re so slow, y’know that? maybe if you weren’t so distracted, someone could be happy right now.” the teasing lilt in his voice only makes you laugh. “oh, so you want a kiss?” you ask, leaning closer. he scoffs, eyes narrowing. “who said i wanted one?” his ego crumbles when you press a quick kiss to his cheek. his ears turn red, but he smirks anyway. “finally. took you long enough.”
#ʚ( ៸៸ ´ `) 𝑜𝑓 : 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 ︐#enhypen#enhypen fluff#enhypen imagines#enhypen scenarios#enhypen au#heeseung#enhypen x reader#enha x reader#heeseung fluff#jaeyun fluff#sunghoon fluff#park sunghoon angst#sunghoon angst#park jongseong angst#enhypen soft hour#sunghoon soft hours#enhypen soft hours#heeseung soft thoughts#sunghoon soft thoughts#jaeyun imagines#sunghoon imagines#park sunghoon imagines#heeseung scenarios#nishimura riki scenarios#jay park scenarios#sunghoon au
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Feeling extremely disappointed in the community response to Trump's gender order regarding X gender markers on documents. Can y'all quit with the victim-blaming and "I'm so glad I don't have an X gender marker, I knew it was a bad idea" statements for two seconds to support those of us who are targeted by this?
I have X on all of my documents. Birth certificate, passport, ID, you name it I have an X on it. I'm intersex & trans. I'm percieved as ambiguous 100% of the time and I can't pass for shit. Stealth is not an option for me, I am visibly intersex/trans no matter what.
Having either M or F on my documents wasn't any more feasible than having an X on everything at the time I got my documents. Which I had to work my ass off to get, by the way, because I was homeless and had no documents and I needed to obtain everything from scratch, which of course is made as hard as possible to do. (How do you provide proof of identity without any identity documents? How do you provide proof of address without an address? How do you pay for any of this when you can't even afford your own groceries and you get all your needs met through local mutual aid? How do you drop anything off or attend interviews or court without transportation?)
Goddamn right I was getting an X on my documents after having to go through hell to obtain them. If I had to work that hard for them, my documents were going to be how I wanted them.
Now I'm being told the president is trying to invalidate my documents, that depending on how things go I may be held if I try to go anywhere due to my passport having an X gender marker, that we don't know the ways this will be enforced and whether I will still be able to use my documents or not, and my trans community is saying it's actually my own fault for having an X gender marker in the first place and that I was just begging to be discriminated against by having one.
I am in a very vulnerable position and I should be supported by my own community when anti-trans anti-intersex discrimination targets me and people I care about. Y'all are dropping the ball and abandoning your siblings when we need each other most.
Also, for the record, I believe that no documentation should have gender markers. However, the US requires gender markers on documentation at the moment and that fucking sucks. It seems like this will be the case for the foreseeable future. The way people have been saying "nobody should get an X gender marker because gender markers shouldn't exist" just feels very "your strategy pales in comparison to my strategy, firebombing a Walmart" and then not firebombing a Walmart. While we can and should work towards gender markers not existing in the future, people with X gender markers exist right now and maybe y'all should support us instead of constantly throwing us under the bus.
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Clueless: Baby Bang
Bang Chan x fem!reader
Warnings: Reader is pregnant (just that, nothing deep)
Genre: established relationship, flufffff
Summary: You've been distant lately, and Chan can't understand why. Because this is very unusual for the two of you as you two are on each other all the time. And Chan panics as you guys are getting married in a few months, and this sudden change is unraveling him.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
Chan paced the living room, a deep frown etched into his forehead. You hadn’t touched him in days. Weeks, actually. That alone was already a catastrophe, considering the fact that you two were basically like bunnies.
But now? Nothing. You were dodging his touches like he was contagious. He reached for your hand? Oh, look, you suddenly needed both hands to text someone. He tried for a kiss? Whoops, you conveniently yawned. Bedtime? You were already asleep.
And that diamond ring glittering on your ring finger? It made him wonder if you were regretting saying yes to him already.
He’d spent way too many nights staring at the ceiling, feeling like the universe was punishing him for something he didn't even know he did.
Chan sighed and opened the group chat. This was bad. He needed to vent.
Chan: She’s avoiding me.
A rapid barrage of notifications followed, and Chan barely had time to process one before another arrived.
Minho: Y/N? The one who’s practically glued to your lap 24/7?
Hyunjin: LMAO. Not possible. I won't believe it.
Seungmin: You obviously did something.
Chan: NO, I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING!
Chan: She’s been acting weird for WEEKS. 2 weeks to be exact. No kisses. No hugs. No… anything.
Jisung: No sex? BRO. Are you okay?
Felix: What if she’s planning something? Like a surprise? Maybe a wedding thing?
---
Chan paused. That was… not unreasonable. But no. You’d never kept secrets from him before. Like you've given him enough surprises before so he knew this was different.
---
Minho: OR. She’s finally come to her senses about you seducing her into saying yes?
Chan: Minho. I will come to your house and end you.
Jeongin: But seriously, hyung. Did you say something? Do something? Forget an important date? You’re kind of a workaholic.
---
That hit a little too close to home. Chan frowned, scrolling back through his mental timeline of your relationship.
---
Chan: I didn’t forget anything. I swear. We were fine until a couple weeks ago, and now she’s avoiding me like the plague.
Changbin: Well. There’s only one logical explanation.
Changbin: She’s been abducted by aliens and replaced with a clone.
Jisung: YES. I second this. The real Y/N would NEVER do this.
Felix: Omg guys!
Chan: GUYS.
Hyunjin: Okay. What if she’s mad because you’re not initiating? She’s waiting for you to grovel.
Seungmin: That makes no sense. If she’s mad, why not just say so?
Hyunjin: IDK, some people like drama.
Jeongin: That’s your toxic trait, Hyung.
Hyunjin: IS NOT!
---
Chan groaned, dropping his phone onto the couch. He missed you. Like, really missed you. Sure, he wanted to rip your clothes off 90% of the time, but he also missed the simple things - your cuddles, your soft laugh, the way you’d always need him by your side when you're stressed.
The cold shoulders and polite smiles were killing him.
---
Minho: Just confront her, idiot. Corner her in the kitchen and ask her what’s wrong.
Chan: You think I haven’t tried that?! Every time I ask, she changes the subject.
Jisung: Okay, hear me out. Seduction.
Chan: What?
Jisung: Set the mood. Candles. Sexy music. Flex those ridiculous arms. She won’t stand a chance.
Felix: Worth a try.
---
That night, Chan put the "seduction plan" into action. He dimmed the lights, skipped the candles, and put on a romantic playlist. He even went full drama, lounging on the couch with his shirt conveniently unbuttoned.
When you walked in, your eyebrows shot up as you asked, “What's up?”
Chan said nothing, just held held his hand out. You froze, guilt flashing across your face, and Chan knew he had you. You placed your hand on his and let him pull you close.
“Baby, what’s going on? You’ve been avoiding me, and it’s driving me crazy. Did I do something wrong?” His voice cracked, and that set you off.
Your eyes filled with tears, and in an instant you were in his lap, clinging to him like your life depended on it.
“I’m sorry, Channie! I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“Then why -”
“Shhh,” Chan fell silent as you pressed a finger to his lips. “Just know that I love you, Channie.”
Chan was suspicious. Because, well, you’d shut him up in the best way possible, last night - all he remembered was his shirt coming off and yeah.
You’d seduced him. Thoroughly. And while his brain had short-circuited at that time, he was now absolutely certain that you’d dodged his questions on purpose.
At least he can't complain about you not touching him anymore, right?
---
Chan: It didn't work.
Minho: WHAT didn't?
Chan: She kinda caught me off guard. And avoided my questions.
Jisung: I thought we agreed on YOU seducing her and you got seduced??
Felix: Soooo… you still don’t know what’s going on?
Chan: NO. She’s hiding something, I know it.
Hyunjin: Maybe you’re overthinking. Or, maybe she’s secretly a spy.
Changbin: She’s NOT a spy, Hyunjin. That’s ridiculous.
Hyunjin: And alien clones aren’t?
Minho: Why are we even helping you? You let her seduce you and then just… forgot your goal.
---
Chan groaned, flopping onto his back. It wasn’t his fault! He was weak when it came to you. All it took was a look, or a whisper of his name and his brain turned to mush.
Still, Minho had a point.
---
Chan: Okay, fine. What do I do now?
Felix: She’s probably just stressed? Weddings are a big deal. She might just need time to sort her thoughts.
That gave Chan pause. Weddings were stressful. Maybe that was it?
Hyunjin: My bet’s still on spy.
---
Meanwhile, you were in the bathroom, staring at the little plastic stick in your hand for the hundredth time now. You’d known for two weeks, but the reality hadn’t gotten any less terrifying.
You were pregnant. Pregnant. With Chan’s baby.
The thought sent your heart racing. You loved him more than anything, but… you’d never talked about kids. What if he wasn’t ready? What if he panics when you bring it up?
There were only a few months until the wedding. You didn’t want to dump this on him now and risk throwing him into a spiral.
---
That night, Chan decided to take Minho’s advice (for once). No more distractions. He was getting answers tonight.
When you walked into the living room and his eyes locked onto yours - you froze. He looked so handsome, and a little…worn out? You felt so guilty for doing this.
“Come sit,” he said, patting the couch beside him.
You hesitated, but complied, heart pounding.
“Baby, we need to talk,” Chan said, his voice soft but firm.
You swallowed hard as you murmured, “About what?”
“You’ve been acting weird for weeks. And you obviously don't trust me enough to talk it out. I’m worried. What's going on? Is it the wedding?” He was giving you that puppy eyed look, and your heart shattered.
“No, Channie, it's not like that...”
“Then what is it? Please, just tell me.”
You opened your mouth, ready to spill everything - but then you panicked. The words caught in your throat, and instead, you leaned in, pressing your lips to his.
Here he was - caught off guard (again) but quickly melting into the kiss. You climbed into his lap, your hands tangling in his hair, and within seconds, all thoughts of questioning were gone.
---
Chan: SHE DID IT AGAIN.
Minho: You’re hopeless.
Seungmin: At this rate, she could rob a bank and get away with it.
Felix: Honestly, I’m impressed.
---
Chan sighed, glaring at the group chat before throwing his phone across the bed. Whatever you were hiding, it was big. And he was determined to find out, one way or another.
Little did he know, in the bathroom, you were rehearsing how to tell him the truth: that in just a few months, he wasn’t just going to be your husband.
He was going to be a dad.
Chan was officially losing it. His imagination had gone to some very dark places (thanks to Changbin’s clone theory and Hyunjin’s spy nonsense), but now he just felt defeated. What was so big and terrifying, that you felt like you couldn’t share it with him?
Chan: I give up. She’s unbreakable.
Jisung: Hey don't lose hope.
Minho: Pathetic.
Jeongin: Just sit her down and don’t let her leave until she talks.
Chan: I’VE TRIED THAT.
Chan was ready to lock himself and you in a room till you cracked, but unfortunately he was already cracking under the stress. And then a lightbulb went off in his head. There was just one person in the world who might be able to get through to you.
Felix.
---
Felix was, to put it lightly, concerned when Chan cornered him in his kitchen.
“Lix, you have to help me,” Chan said, his eyes wild and desperate.
“Help you how?” Felix asked cautiously.
“Can you please try to talk to her?” Chan literally begs. “She loves you, Lix. Maybe she’ll tell you if you ask?”
Felix hesitated, torn between loyalty to Chan, who was literally his brother and his friendship with you. But ultimately, his desire to help won anyway.
“Okay,” he said with a sigh. “I’ll talk to her.”
---
Later that afternoon, you opened the door to find Felix standing on your porch, holding a box of cookies and his sunniest smile.
“Lixie?” you asked, surprised. “So good to see you!”
“Just wanted to check on you, love,” he said, coming forward to hug you.
You stepped aside to let him in, and the two of you settled on the couch.
“I baked these for you,” he said, watching your reaction closely as you opened the box and munched on a cookie immediately. “You’ve been looking a little stressed lately.”
You stopped mid-chew, guilt gnawing at you.
“I’m fine, Lix. Just… wedding stuff, you know?” you said, carefully avoiding his eyes.
“Is it really just the wedding?” Felix tilted his head, unconvinced.
You froze, your hands tightening around the box.
“You know you can talk to me, right? Whatever it is, I won’t judge.” Felix said, reaching out and placing a gentle hand over yours.
Your eyes welled up with tears, and as you put the box aside gently. Felix scooted closer as he saw the tears fall, and before you knew it, the truth came spilling out.
“I’m pregnant, Felix,” you whispered. “And I don’t know how to tell Chan. We’ve never talked about kids, and I don’t even know if he wants them. And now the wedding’s so close, and I’m scared I’ll ruin everything. I already got my wedding dress and I don't think I'll fit into it anymore because by that time-”
Felix’s eyes went wide, and for a moment, he looked like he might burst into tears himself. But then he let out a strangled laugh.
“You’re… you’re pregnant?”
You nodded, sniffled and managed a soft, “Yeah.”
Felix threw his arms around you, nearly knocking you over.
“Oh my God, Y/N! I’m so happy for you! And for Chan! You’re gonna have the cutest baby in the world!” he gushed, his eyes sparkling with happy tears.
You couldn’t help but laugh through your own tears.
“You don't think this is a disaster?” you asked softly, wiping your tears away.
“Disaster?” Felix pulled back, shaking his head. “Of course not. This is amazing! But you have to tell Chan. He’s going insane trying to figure out what’s wrong.”
“I know,” you said softly. “I just… I’m scared.”
Felix gave you a reassuring smile and said, “Chan loves you more than anything. Trust me, he’s gonna be over the moon. And I'll always be here for you. Seriously, sweetheart, this is the best news ever.”
---
Hyunjin: Well? Did she tell you?
Jisung: SPILL, FELIX.
Chan: Felix? Please. I’m dying here.
Felix hesitated, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. He couldn’t betray your trust, but he also couldn’t leave Chan hanging.
Felix: She’s okay. She’s just… working through something.
Minho: And you’re being suspiciously vague.
Seungmin: Should've known that sending her best friend to investigate wasn't your strongest idea… obviously he's gonna take her side!
Felix: I promised I wouldn’t say anything. But it’s nothing bad, I swear.
Chan: Seriously?? Nothing bad? Then why is she avoiding me?
Felix: Just… be patient with her, okay? She’ll tell you when she’s ready. I promise it's all ok. Trust me.
Chan frowned at the message, his heart twisting.
You had spent the whole night rehearsing what to say to Chan, your stomach churning with nerves. Morning came far too quickly, and as you watched him shuffle into the kitchen with his hair messy and his sleepy face, you nearly chickened out.
But Felix’s words echoed in your head. He’s gonna be over the moon.
“Channie,” you said softly, placing your mug of tea aside and taking a step towards him.
He looked up from the coffee maker, his sleepy eyes brightening instantly. You were trying to talk to him, and somehow that was enough. Anything was better than you avoiding him.
“Morning, baby.”
You smiled nervously, gesturing to the table. “Can we talk?”
His brow furrowed, worry flashing across his face as he nodded and sat down opposite you.
“Is everything okay?”
You took a deep breath, your hands trembling slightly as you said, “You know how I’ve been… weird lately?”
Chan nodded, his gaze fixed on you with a mix of concern and curiosity.
“Well,” you continued, “there’s a reason for that. And I’ve been scared to tell you because it’s big. Like, really big.”
“Baby, whatever it is, you can tell me. I promise, I’ll handle it.” Chan said, reaching across the table and taking your hand in his.
Your eyes filled with tears as you finally said it.
“I’m pregnant.”
Chan froze. Completely. His mouth hung open, his grip on your hand tightening slightly as his brain processed your words.
“You’re… pregnant?” he whispered, his voice barely audible.
You nodded, tears spilling over.
“Yeah. I found out a couple of weeks ago, and I didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t know if you’d be okay with it, or if it was too much with the wedding coming up -”
Chan cut you off by pulling you into his arms, burying his face in your neck. His body shook as he let out a half-laugh, half-sob, and you realized he was crying.
“Channie, are you okay?” you asked nervously, your own voice shaking as you stroked his hair.
“Okay?” he choked out, pulling back to look at you with tear-streaked cheeks and the biggest grin you’d ever seen. “Baby, I’m better than okay. I’m… I’m gonna be a dad?”
You nodded, your heart swelling at the pure joy on his face.
Chan laughed, his tears flowing freely now.
“Holy crap. I don’t know what to say?! We’re having a baby. A baby!”
Before you could say anything else, Chan was peppering your face with kisses, squeezing you in the tightest hug ever.
“I love you so much. Baby, you’re…I can’t believe you’ve been carrying this on your own.” he said, cupping your cheeks with his hands.
“I didn’t want to stress you out,” you admitted, clinging to him as he pulled you onto his lap. “And…I've never been more scared about anything my entire life? I mean, I adore you, and I know I want this with you, our baby already means the world to me…but not knowing if you would want that too? It's been killing me, we've never even joked about this before, Channie… “
“You could’ve told me sooner, baby,” he said softly, kissing the tip of your nose. “I thought we were clear about this, with you, I'm ready for anything! But I get it. And I love you even more for worrying about me. But baby, we’re in this together. Always.”
---
Chan: GUYS. I HAVE NEWS. HUGE NEWS 🤩
Jisung: Finally!!
Hyunjin: I told you she's a spy!! No one ever listens to me!!
Minho: He’s too happy for that, you idiot.
Chan: WE’RE HAVING A BABY.
Jeongin: Excuse me, WHAT?
Changbin: STOP. Really?!
Seungmin: Wow, plot twist
Felix: Oh thank godddddd😭😭😭😭
Felix: I was dying here
Chan: SHE TOLD ME THIS MORNING. I’M GONNA BE A DAD. WE’RE GONNA BE PARENTS. OMG.
---
It felt like everytime he said it, it felt a little more real.
---
Jisung: Congratulations, bro. Wow.
Hyunjin: I AM CRYING. I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU’RE REPRODUCING.
Chan: 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
Chan: MY BABYGIRL AND I ARE HAVING A BABY😭💖
Minho: Jokes aside, this is such great news!! Congrats. Now go take care of your pregnant fiancée instead of spamming us.
Chan: I think I'm gonna faint
Changbin: Congrats, bro. But also… HOW DID YOU NOT NOTICE SHE WAS GOING THROUGH SOMETHING?
Chan: I NOTICED! I just didn't think she was, you know
Jisung: Avoiding you because she was growing your spawn, apparently.
Hyunjin: “Spawn” makes it sound like a little gremlin. Oh my Gawd 🤣
Felix: STOP. My baby’s gonna be so adorable I’ll CRY 😭
Minho: Okay, Felix, you’re suspiciously calm about this. Did you already know?
Felix: 👀
Hyunjin: YOU KNEW.
Chris: WHAT?? FELIX, YOU KNEW BEFORE ME?!
Felix: SHE TOLD ME FIRST, OKAY? SHE WAS NERVOUS, AND I PROMISED I WOULDN’T SAY ANYTHING.
Jisung: Wow. Betrayal.
Chan: SO YOU JUST LET ME SUFFER FOR WEEKS??
Felix: Yes. And? I'd do it again for her.
Changbin: LMAO savage.
Jeongin: Shame on you for trusting him when everyone knows he works for her
Chan: Thanks for being on her side, Lix
Felix: Anytime 💖
Hyunjin: Omg, imagine Baby Bang. Tiny curls, tiny dimples 😍
Chan: STOP I’M ALREADY CRYING AGAIN 😭
Jeongin: I've never been this excited for a baby really. You'd let us babysit won't you?
Changbin: Oh yeah. Group uncle duty.
Hyunjin: We're gonna be dancing before we can even walk Baby Bang 🤝
Felix: For sure!
Chan: THANK YOU GUYS FOR BEING EXCITED FOR US!
Jisung: Save your tears for the wedding, Daddy Bang.
Jeongin: When do we throw a baby shower? Felix?
Felix: Already planning it.
Hyunjin: This baby’s gonna be so loved.
Chan: THANK YOU, GUYS. I LOVE YOU ALL 😭
---
Chan added Y/N to the group chat.
Chan: SURPRISE, BABY! WELCOME TO THE CHAOS.
Jisung: AHHH THE QUEEN IS HERE!
Hyunjin: ALL HAIL THE BABY-MAKER 👑
Minho: Congrats on creating life and also tolerating Chan for this long.
Felix: YAYYYYYY YOU’RE HERE! 😭 We’ve been dying to have you here!!!
Jeongin: Thank you for gifting us Baby Bang. We promise to only slightly corrupt them.
Changbin: We’re all crying. I’m crying. Hyung is crying. Everyone’s crying.
Y/N:😂
Y/N: Oh my God, you guys.
Minho: This is us being tame.
Hyunjin: Soooo, what does it feel like, hm? Asking for research purposes, of course
Chan: Oh yeah, totally not gonna run off and impregnate someone 🙄
Hyunjin: What's it to you Christopher? You can do it, but I can't?!
Chan: Oh please
Minho: I told her to get a collar for this damn puppy and look who's here yapping
Y/N: Leave him alone guys!
Hyunjin: I respect you, Y/N. I respect you. So I'm gonna shut up (Mr Know, let's do this face to face huh)
Minho: Gladly.
Felix: Honestly, Y/N, we’re just honored to be part of this.
Y/N: Thanks guys, this means a lot to us.
Changbin: And we’re going to spoil them rotten.
Jeongin: Rotten is an understatement.
Y/N: 🤭🤭🤭
Minho: You won't even know what hit you for the next 18 years. Or 30.
Chan: GUYS. Stop scaring her. Baby, they’re joking.
Felix: We’re not.
Hyunjin: Nope.
Jisung: Absolutely not.
Y/N: I'm all in for that hehe
Chan: I love you guys
Jisung: Chan’s in his feels again.
Felix: We have a wedding and baby shower to plan!
Hyunjin: OMG. A pregnant bride. You’re gonna be so GLOWY.
Y/N: Thank you for being this excited for us. I love you guys 😭💖
Felix: We love you too!! 🥺💖
Divider: @saradika-graphics
Tags: @moonchild9350 @velvetmoonlght @eastjonowhere @pixie-felix @sailor--sun @chancloud8
#stray kids#skz#bang chan x reader#bang chan x y/n#bang chan x you#bang chan fluff#skz x reader#skz fluff#stray kids x reader#stray kids fluff
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yesterday i had something of a personal revelation regarding my internalized ableism.
i have pretty bad vision and extreme audio processing disorder. i can see about six inches in front of my face clearly without glasses and i frequently have to ask people to repeat themselves or get really confused because i mishear things or just don’t understand the word that someone said.
yesterday i was talking to jessica who was across the room except i didn’t have my glasses on. and i stopped her and said “hold on baby pause, i can’t understand you because i don’t have my glasses on”.
and it took a bit of buffering time but i realized that a huge part of the reason that i couldn’t understand what she was saying was because i wasn’t able to see her mouth moving while she talked. and suddenly it dawned on me, that reading lips, something i’ve always been inexplicably good at, is actually a skill i developed as compensation for my disability.
and a new level of understanding regarding my various disabilities and internalized ableism unlocked in my brain. all of the times i have been told im bad at listening from my parents. all the times my teachers berated me for not paying attention. all of the times a friend of partner was upset with me because they assumed i wasn’t listening to them. i developed a skill just so that i wouldn’t disappoint them by pretending that i didn’t have a disability.
to my younger self, i’m sorry that i wasn’t kind to you. i’m sorry you didn’t get the support or understanding you needed as a child. i’m learning now and im beginning to forgive myself for it.
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𝑑𝘰𝑛‘𝘵 ℎ𝑎𝘵𝑒 𝘵ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑒𝑟 || 𝑙𝑒𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝑒𝑠𝑒𝑢𝑛𝑔 (𝑝𝘵 1) ౨ৎ
꒰ ꒱ྀི lee heeseung x fem!reader
☆゙ ↳ main masterlist
☆゙ ↳ prev | next
☆゙ ↳ synopsis: you don‘t want me? fine. the two of us can play that game.
the heartthrob of the campus had finally set his eyes on y/n. she was going to be his next victim, to fall for him and assume she can fix him moments before she finds herself ghosted. but y/n knew all too well…too bad she only captures heeseung‘s heart after beating him at his own game. that’s when she learns: don’t hate the player. hate the game.
☆゙ ↳ wc: 6741
☆゙ ↳ genre/warnings: a lil bit smutty, kinda fluff (?) cursing, sexual harassment (not from heeseung), heeseung tries to touch up reader, pining, fuckboy heeseung, y/n is a virgin, a few typos…if i missed anything pls lmk!!
"okay, okay, we‘ve had monica, brittany, and mina this week alone, yeah?" karina snickers, jotting down the names of lee heeseung‘s newest side quests.
the two best friends, karina and y/n, were huddled together in their university classroom (sitting the furthest away from everybody of course), as if they were little high schoolers gossiping about who kissed who.
however, what they were doing wasn’t far from immature, childish gossip. here, they were strategizing who lee heeseung—the school‘s fuckboy—would go for next. it was like a fun little game to the girls, the excitement of seeing how right their guesses could get making them giggle every time.
although it was only the beginning of sophomore year in uni, mr. fboy heeseung had already had his way with nearly half the school, so y/n and karina knew their time would come soon. the only difference between them being karina was open to a night with heeseung. no strings attached, of course. it’s been a month since her messy breakup with her former girlfriend yunjin, and she knew heeseung was the only person who‘d give her a good night with no feelings, guaranteed.
then there was y/n. not to say she’s "not like everyone else," she does find heeseung attractive and well, a little charming—she hates the idea of being with anyone "no strings attached." and heeseung‘s version of adding strings to his puppet was dating them for a week after hooking up before inevitably ghosting them. and unfortunately for y/n, that wasn’t enough.
y/n nods at karina‘s question, holding up three fingers to represent each of heeseung‘s playthings.
"and how about abby? the blonde one with big boobs? classic bimbo," y/n inquiries quietly, "have they gotten together yet?" karina lets out a noise similar to a "pfft" before nodding her head, answering. "a few times, actually. he really likes her.." karina trails off, shaking her head.
"i just…don‘t know who else.." y/n trails off, biting her thumb in thought. "bianca martinez?" karina nods.
"yeji?" karina nods once more.
"damn—minji?" and again, karina nods.
y/n lightly palms her face in disbelief.
"i guess this one will be a surprise, hm?" jokes karina, a playful smile lingering on her lips.
y/n sighs, defeated. "guess so."
ᡣ𐭩 •。ꪆৎ ˚⋅
"remember, guys! tutoring begins 3pm today! if you‘re late then your extra credit points are docked!" spoke mr. glenn as class ended, reminding y/n of her duty she needed to fulfill later on today as a top student. with a groan, she stood up and grabbed her baby pink bag, lightly slinging it over her shoulder.
"oh you‘ll be having fun teaching those dumbasses.." teased karina, tickling y/n‘s side with a grin as the two girls exited class together.
"ugh, i know.." laughed y/n as karina tickled her. "i‘m gonna be stuck here for two whole hours kari.." y/n whined, pouting as she leaned her head on karina‘s shoulder, walking towards their dorm room.
"you‘ll be okay, i‘ll buy you lots of food after, hm?" karina said as she stroked y/n‘s hair, feeling her head nod against her.
a couple hours later, y/n arrived inside mr. glenn‘s dim-lit classroom, ready (but annoyed) to teach a bunch of frat boys and sorority girls who are falling behind.
coming in with a fake smile, y/n shot mr. glenn a small wave as she strutted inside the classroom confidently, sitting down at the table sectioned off to help students with english. pulling out her phone, she laid her head down, scrolling through tiktok to pass time before students came in.
and just as she predicted, a student was already approaching her table for help.
"hey, beautiful.." spoke an almost familiar voice, tone sultry and flirtatious. "wanna help me get this english grade up?"
y/n looked up from her phone to meet eyes with the boy who was seemingly so eager to get his english grade up. but when y/n saw him, her breath slightly hitched and she had to clear her throat to regain her faintly lost composure. because being face to face with lee heeseung was not what she expected.
"um..heeseung.." y/n spoke hesitantly, grabbing her english textbook. swallowing, her elegant hands flipped page through page, trying to find the section they last left on in class.
"do you need help with what we‘ve recently been doing?" y/n asked, trying to ignore that sensual expression heeseung wore on his face.
"sure." heeseung shrugs. "i haven‘t been doing much in class…" he trails off, grabbing the textbook from y/n, his soft, pale hands brushing against hers.
y/n refused to show any reaction to heeseung‘s touch, which he took note of. poor y/n, she has no idea heeseung likes a challenge.
"well i can guide you through the notes we‘ve been taking this week on literary theory and textual interpretation. it sounds pretty difficult but i can guarantee you it’s easy." y/n‘s voice remained fairly monotone and pretty professional, heeseung‘s charm starting to wear off on her. that shyness from a minute ago was no longer present.
y/n grabbed her english notebook from her bag, opening it to a page filled with notes. heeseung scoffs as y/n opens her mouth to speak, interrupting her.
"oh, you‘re cute.." he smirks, laying his hands on her page of notes, tapping up and down with his finger.
"i didn’t want you to actually teach me, my dear." his voice lowers to that of a whisper. "i have a proposal." his lips curl up into a smile in contrast to y/n‘s frown.
"which is..?" y/n questions, her tone a bit irritated. she crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair.
"you do my work…and i‘ll pay you." heeseung speaks confidently.
"how much are we talking?" y/n asks, seemingly annoyed. but that doesn’t break heeseung‘s cocky demeanor.
"oh i‘m not talking about money, love.."
y/n can only roll her eyes at his suggestion, already knowing where this would go.
"i‘ll fuck you for every assignment you do, hm? whatever you want. there‘s nothing i haven‘t done, afterall." he slightly bites his lip, leaning back in his seat, now manspreading.
"and that’s exactly why i won‘t take up that offer…" y/n‘s voice holds a note of offense. "glad to know that’s what you think of me…" y/n rolls her eyes, completely finished putting up with heeseung‘s attitude, starting to pack her stuff up.
"oh, come on, baby. i‘m not saying you‘re a slut—i can tell you‘re a virgin. you‘re so uptight." heeseung gestures his hands towards himself. "i‘m offering you something over half the girls on campus would die for."
"heeseung, you don’t even know my name." y/n retorts, standing up to leave.
"y/n!! leaving so soon?" mr. glenn calls out, noticing y/n ready to leave.
y/n nods, telling mr. glenn she has an emergency at home. but before she walks off, heeseung grabs her wrist gently, but firm enough to turn her around, her eyes locked on his.
with a smirk heeseung says, "now i do, y/n."
ᡣ𐭩 •。ꪆৎ ˚⋅
with a groan, y/n slams shut her dorm room door, back pressed against it as she let out a frustrated sigh.
"damn, they really got you so bad you had to leave early, hm?" karina teases, putting down her phone and sitting up on her purple sheeted bed.
y/n hangs her head down, a vexed smile on her face as she let out a breathy laugh, making a piece of her hair fly slightly forward. she shot karina a knowing look.
"you won‘t fucking believe who the hell i had to tutor for like—five minutes today…"
y/n threw herself down on karina‘s bed, right next to the raven-haired girl.
"who?? oh my god — was it that one guy who practically stalked you last year?" karina lets out an unbelieved laugh.
y/n shakes her head. "no..this guy was somehow almost worse." she scoots ever so slightly closer. "lee fucking heeseung.." y/n snorts as she laughs, covering her giggles with her hands as karina mimics, both of the girls laughing in disbelief.
"no way! i doubt there was much tutoring going on…" karina says behind her hand that slightly muffled her words.
y/n shakes her head. "yeah. for lack of a better word at i least 'tutored' heeseung."
y/n sits up, holding air quotes around the word tutored.
"did he say anything? like…" karina lowers her voice to a whisper as if there were other people around. "does he wanna fuck you?"
y/n‘s eyes widen and she lets out a small gasp, slightly taken aback by the question her brown-eyed best friend asked her. but she quickly fixes herself, answering, "yeah. he offered to dick me down if i did his assignments…" y/n tossed herself back-down on karina‘s soft bed, laying flat as she looked up to the blank, white ceiling, eyeing the spinning fan.
"sooo..? did you take up the offer?" karina asks with the most curious tone, laying down indirectly on top of her best friend in order to pry an answer out.
"nooo.." y/n spoke shyly. "i don’t wanna lose my virginity to an asshole fuckboy." y/n scrunches her nose, disgusted at the idea.
"well if you won’t take him…" karina then slowly pointed to herself, suggesting that she should get a piece of hee.
y/n pushes karina‘s shoulder, causing the pale woman to fall on her back. y/n sits up. "no, karina. you need to get back with yunjin…you guys broke up for a stupid ass reason. she needs to realise you weren‘t flirting with another girl, and move on. with you…"
karina slowly moves her eyes down in the direction of her phone before she picks it up, hand grasping her silver case.
"about that…" karina‘s face shows mischief before showing y/n messages between karina and yunjin.
yunjin: i miss u, rina 🙁🙁 so much.
karina: yunjin, you broke up with me, if you want me back so bad you have me…
yunjin: maybe i do. but what you did wasn’t ok, rina. i hate that stupid bitch heather and you still spoke to her
karina: baby pls…i‘ll do anything to make it up to you, i am so so sorry..
yunjin: then let me come over tonight. then maybe you could show me how sorry you really are.
karina: fine…does around 9 work?
yunjin: yeah. get y/n out of there tho. i wanna be alone.
"oh my god…rina..!" y/n said, a bit shocked. "she misses you! this is good!"
karina curls her lips up a bit. "either that or she wants some pussy tonight."
y/n playfully rolls her eyes. "which you‘ll glady give her, i assume?"
karina hesitantly nods, a smile falling from her lips.
"well, i guess i‘ll be going out tonight.." y/n gets up, going towards her vanity to take her hair out of its pink claw clip, running her cream colour brush through her soft locks.
"maybe you could help out heeseung, hm?" karina goaded y/n.
y/n turned to karina with an unamused look, still brushing her hair. "never. i have better things i could do…" y/n trailed off, her expression softening when she realises that was a total lie. she really put her academics over everything, and outside of karina had a social life of almost zero.
"we both know that’s not true, y/n," spoke karina as if she were reading y/n‘s mind.
karina scoots, now sitting on the edge of her bed. "come on, y/n—you don’t have to fuck him, but you can fuck around with him, right? it‘ll be fun!"
y/n thinks for a moment, considering karina‘s words. "but i‘m not seductive—i wouldn’t know what to do! i can’t flirt.." y/n covers her face slightly, brush still in hand.
karina snickers. "y/n, he‘s already come onto you and gotten a piece of your attitude. if he didn’t want you, would he have approached you? think about it! you don’t have to be some master of seduction to woo heeseung."
y/n removed her hands, knowing deep down karina was right.
"but…i don’t know…how do i do something like that?"
"easy." karina smirks. "remember what i did to that guy dylan?"
y/n nods, intrigued. "lead heeseung on?"
"similar to that. tonight, you head over to his dorm—look cute but not too cute to where he knows you put in that effort for him. tell him that you‘re going to take him up on his offer, come inside and do some work." karina stands up, getting really into describing her plan. "let him tease you; get bold, tease him back…let him touch you, make you feel good, but only! only you get to feel good. as soon as he thinks he‘s getting what he wants…you‘re going to get up and leave, hm? he‘ll be wondering what the hell happened…and he‘ll yearn for you evermore." karina shrugs. "the rest is up to you."
god, y/n wondered why she was suddenly so excited.
ᡣ𐭩 •。ꪆৎ ˚⋅
after contacting a mutual friend she and heeseung shared, karina was able to track down where heeseung‘s dorm was, making y/n realise just how real this happening all is.
and so with a five minute walk, y/n had her hair down and pin straight, wearing a matching baby pink, tightly knit matching set, hugging her body just right, her hips swaying so perfectly as she strutted down heeseung‘s hallway in her little ugg slides. with a tiny knock on his door, y/n took little breaths to calm her nerves. *you‘re not going all the way…* she had to remember.
after a small moment, y/n was greeted with heeseung‘s delicate face, a flirtatious smile forming on his lips as his eyes wandered over her.
"so you did want to see me afterall, y/n.." heeseung gazed at y/n‘s beautiful face, she was so stunning even without makeup…just curled lashes and clear lip gloss was all she needed to sparkle.
heeseung leaned against his doorway, his biceps flexed against the frame as he gestured y/n to come in.
without reacting to any of heeseung‘s words, y/n came into heeseung‘s dorm, surprised he was alone and without his friends or a hookup laying in his bed.
she stood near his desk as heeseung strode over to her, sitting at the chair paired with his desk.
"sorry, love…i have no extra chairs." heeseung sighs in mock apology.
"it‘s okay, i‘ll just stand," y/n politely smiles, placing her off-white shoulder bag on his desk, pulling out homework material.
heeseungs tsks, gently placing his hands on y/n‘s hips, gartering her attention.
"or you could always just sit on my lap.." heeseung toyed with the hem of y/n‘s pants, but she quickly smacked his veiny hand away.
"i‘m good." she gave a smug grin when she saw heeseung‘s slightly taken aback expression. he let out a small sigh, clearly growing frustrated.
"you‘re so uptight, you know that?" heeseung leaned back, his tone not angry but teasing.
y/n turned her body to face herseung. "oh yeah?" she placed a hand on her hip with a raised brow.
"yeah. you should relax. don’t you have a vibrator or something? i heard that can help…" he snickers at her shocked reaction.
"i don’t use those things—you‘re so crude!"
"ah..so your hands aren’t doing the job right?"
y/n feels her face heat up, blush creeping onto her cheeks.
"what i do isn’t your business, heeseung."
y/n‘s voice was firm, arms now crossed.
heeseung held up his hands in a surrendering motion, his legs much more visible to show off his manspread.
"you‘re right, you‘re right. i‘m just trying to offer my word of advice to a woman in need.."
y/n rolls her eyes. "i‘m here to teach you, heeseung! keep this up and you won’t get anything." she bends down so she is eye-level with the black haired boy, her eyes meeting his clearly turned on gaze. her voice was brash, and authoritative, her finger pointing at heeseung, her acrylic fingernail poking his solid chest every few words.
heeseung slightly bit his lip once he caught a glimpse down y/n‘s tight little jacket, her cleavage in perfect view. heeseung could only swallow, trying to not make it super obvious where his eyes were locked.
and lucky for him, y/n didn’t seem to notice as she stood back up, towering over heeseung‘s sitting figure.
"sit on my lap and i‘ll be good, hm? i‘ll leave you alone my dear y/n.." heeseung speaks quietly, gently patting his thigh.
y/n hesitates, thinking about karina‘s words—to just tease…make yourself feel good, then leave when he thinks he‘s getting something…
with those words in mind, y/n slowly lowers her round ass onto heeseung‘s thigh, sitting sideways on his lap. his hands immediately gripped y/n‘s waist, slowly caressing her slim sides up and down, fingertips ever so slightly reaching under her little jacket, gliding over her soft, bear skin. she shivered, the foreign feeling of his hands on her ignited something small within her. but she shakes any thoughts of pleasure out from her head, pulling out homework material from her bag, flipping through annotated packets and mindlessly organising them, just trying to distract herself from heeseung‘s hands trailing further up her torso.
"you almost done..?" heeseung asks quietly, his warm breath against y/n as he moved her hair away from her neck, whispering against the soft skin. y/n quivered, letting go of the packets she held. y/n nodded, clearing her throat as she adjusted herself on heeseung‘s lap. she heard a low groan fall from his lips, and she spun her head around with a small gasp, not believing what her ears just heard.
"did you just…?"
"yeah..sorry.." heeseung faintly whispered, sounding like he was holding something back. "that felt nice.." heeseung squeezed y/n‘s sides placidly, like he was giving her a massage.
y/n blinked in response for a moment before she practically scoffed, her assertive facade coming back to her. "fucking horndog…" she whispers, looking heeseung up and down like he was a vermon.
heeseung‘s grip tightened, groping her sides more aggressively in response, sucking in air through his teeth. "yeahhh…just for you, babe." heeseung chuckled breathily to himself.
y/n rolls her eyes, swatting heeseung‘s arm. "and every other girl you make eye contact with. surprised you don’t have an std by now.."
heeseung faintly flinched at y/n‘s little swat, not used to a woman defying him like this. but he didn’t mind. in fact, heeseung likes a chase sometimes.
"it’s called condoms, dude. i don’t go raw on anyone," he lets out that same chuckle from earlier.
"heeseung, i really don’t care," y/n retors, smacking his head with a packet. "now are you going to let me teach you or are you going to touch me all over this whole time?"
heeseung raises a brow, locking eyes with the girl on his lap. "i thought you were doing my assignments for me, babe. remember our deal?"
y/n shakes her head. "i pride myself in my teaching abilities. and i don’t want to fuck you.."
"oh come on, y/n. you‘re almost twenty and you‘re still a virgin…why not lose it?"
"how do you know i‘m a virgin..?" y/n‘s brows furrow in confusion.
"remember earlier in mr. glenn‘s tutoring session? i can just tell. you‘re so fucking uptight."
y/n makes a face similar to disgust. "being an uptight virgin is better than being a chill fucking whore like you."
heeseung only tittered, not offended by y/n‘s remark. "you don’t wanna loosen up?" he pulled y/n closer towards his body.
"not with you…" her voice grows quiet when she feels heeseung‘s arm wrap around her waist, hand snaking down, closer towards her pussy, his fingers trailing the hem of her tight little knit flare leggings that matched her cropped jacket.
her breath hitches as her back is now pressed up against heeseung‘s firm chest, both her legs straddling his left thigh, her ass cheek pressed against his growing erection.
a soft hum leaves y/n‘s lips when heeseung‘s fingers grow braver and dip into y/n‘s pants, middle finger gently pressing down on y/n‘s clit, applying just enough pressure to form a wet patch in y/n‘s panties which didn’t go unnoticed by heeseung, a smirk forming on his lips.
"you sure you don’t want my help?" heeseung snickers, his finger sliding down to feel the warm wetness in y/n‘s panties.
but y/n knew she couldn’t give in. y/n was smarter than to cave in to heeseung‘s smart talk and skilled hands. so she suppressed her moan and reluctantly grabbed heeseung‘s wrist, pulling his hand away from her pussy. she stood up and calmly grabbed her bag and packets, turning to face heeseung, who was visibly confused.
y/n could only smirk satisfactory with heeseung‘s reaction to rejection.
"clearly we aren’t on the same page, heeseung. i‘m leaving now—if you really want my help, get those hormones in check. maybe fuck a girl on your roster before seeing me." y/n politely smiles in contrast to her passive aggressive tone. and saying no more, y/n leaves heeseung‘s dorm, leaving him sitting there, absolutely dumbfounded a girl has actually rejected his advances. he watched y/n‘s figure stride away and leave before he ran his fingers through his hair, chuckling quietly to himself.
that was the first time heeseung didn’t get any action with a girl in his place, and the first time a girl seemed to hold zero attraction to him; and the very first time a girl challenged him, and made him want her more. y/n was more of a chase then heeseung thought. luckily for him he was determined, and a fast runner.
ᡣ𐭩 •。ꪆৎ ˚⋅
y/n swung open the door to her dormitory, adrenaline rushing through her veins. she looked over at karina‘s bed and spotted the woman laying down with yunjin under the covers, and it was very apparent the two just slept together. she wasn’t taken aback, however. she had already knew the two would be together tonight.
y/n shook karina awake, not caring if she were naked or not. both karina and yunjin awoke, slightly startled at y/n‘s franticness. before either of the lovers could say anything, y/n spoke up.
"i did it! i did it—but there was barely any action, he sat me on his lap and tried touching my pussy but i left before much could happen!" y/n sounded a bit freaked out with a hint of excitement.
"who is she talking about..?" said yunjin groggily, rubbing her wide eyes.
"heeseung.." yawned karina. "y/n, that‘s good! you‘re probably the first girl in a long time to leave him hanging like that. best him at his own game, hm?" karina smiled, leaning up on her elbows.
y/n‘s face scrunches in slight frustration. "i know…but i‘m just..." she throws her bag down on her bed that‘s only a few feet from karina‘s.
"i‘m glad i did it…it was fun…but—i‘m just…" she sits down on her bed, looking at karina and yunjin. "i don’t know what comes next.."
yunjin and karina exchanged glances before karina speaks up. "you know what happens next?" y/n‘s face grows curious. karina continues. "you wait. you wait for him to chase you…and you‘re going to make him fall for you. and once he does…you leave him for good."
yunjin smirks. "damn karina, what‘d he do to you?"
"nothing. we‘re just bored.." karina looks back at yunjin, but there’s a hint of something beyond playfulness in her eyes.
and with that y/n went to sleep that night, unaware of just how much she had lee heeseung wrapped around her finger.
ᡣ𐭩 •。ꪆৎ ˚⋅
one week later — psychology class. the only class y/n shared with lee heeseung.
y/n sat in her usual seat, putting down her bag under her feet after pulling out all her materials. she laid her tired head on her hand, analysing her notes from the last lecture.
and there was heeseung who came in early for once. he was always late (if he even decided to show up, that is), but this time he made sure he was there so he could score a spot next to the beautiful girl who left him so empty that night.
y/n was all that consumed heeseung‘s mind this past week. he didn’t want to be one to admit it, but heeseung hated how she had this effect on him all from not giving him what he wanted. his only goal in mind was to make y/n give in and fall in love with him, then run away just as he did to every other girl…because how dare this little tease leave him empty? nobody defies the lee heeseung like that.
it was only a matter of seconds before heeseung‘s eyes landed on his target. seeing y/n‘s beautiful, long hair flowing over her shoulder and her plump lips pouting in concentration, her slim legs crossed, her grey fold over leggings hugging her body perfectly, the little flare at the end hanging over her cute little winter boots that encased her bouncing feet. her little pink tank top form fitted her torso, causing her chest catch heeseung‘s attention immediately, making him think back to when he got that lovely glimpse down her top that night last week.
and with nothing else on his mind, determination set in and heeseung b-lined it towards the seat empty next to y/n, as more people started to fill the room.
y/n was slightly startled when an obstinate heeseung plopped himself down next to her, his eyes narrowed in on y/n‘s alarmed expression.
"missed me?" heeseung smirks, his voice laced with smugness.
"god you scared me…" y/n placed her hand over her heart. "but no, i didn’t miss you, heeseung."
heeseung leans in a bit closer, his big black jacket scrunching. "call me hee. everyone else does."
y/n shakes her head, her face going back to her notes. "i‘m alright, we‘re not close enough for me to give you a nickname."
heeseung scoffs, changing the subject to the point he originally wanted to talk about.
"why did you leave that night?"
y/n held back a smirk at the hint of desperation in heeseung‘s voice. the question alone enough to make her want to giggle in satisfaction.
"you were being unprofessional, heeseung. i was there to help tutor you, not have sex with you." her tone was pretty deadpan in contrast to the excitement growing inside of her at the thought heeseung was currently chasing after her.
"i could have made you feel good," heeseung says as he leans back in his chair, his hand coming up to play with strands of y/n‘s hair.
y/n ignores him, flipping through pages in her notebook.
"you‘re not any different from these other girls, you know…you‘re not special." his voice grew annoyed.
"what?" y/n turned her head to the side, her irritated expression apparent.
heeseung’s facial expression seemed satisfied at how he was getting under y/n‘s skin. "you‘re not special for not wanting me, y/n…" heeseung leans closer, his hand still on y/n‘s head. faces inches apart, heeseung‘s voice held somewhat of a threatening tone. "…because i‘ll make you want me." an intimidating smile played on heeseung‘s face, his eyes full of malice.
y/n slightly backed up, a small amount of real fear stirring in her chest.
"you‘re crazy…" her voice automatically came out a whisper, her eyes darting all around his face.
he leaned in and quickly pecked y/n‘s cheeks with his lips, his expression now softened, almost affectionate.
"only for you…" and as the psychology teacher mrs. danbury walked in, heeseung settled down along with the rest of the class, acting as if nothing happened.
y/n stayed taken a bit aback, her mind wandering off from the lesson every so often, thinking off heeseung‘s words.
ᡣ𐭩 •。ꪆৎ ˚⋅
as class came to an end, heeseung stood up, standing next to y/n‘s sitting figure, and as she rose to walk out of the classroom, she was abruptly stopped by heeseung‘s tall body standing in front of her.
she didn’t need to speak. her confused face was all heeseung needed to start explaining.
"let me take you out." heeseung‘s voice was smooth.
"um…where?" y/n crossed her arms.
"there’s a little café down the street, hm? wanna go there?"
y/n thought for a moment, realising she could use this as an attempt for heeseung to truly fall for her.
"i mean…i am kinda hungry i guess." y/n shrugs, walking passed heeseung. "let’s go."
heeseung grabs y/n‘s wrist, forcing her to come back. he interlocked his fingers with hers, then continued walking.
"people are going to think we‘re a thing if you’re holding my hand…" y/n‘s eyes darted from their intertwined hands then up to heeseung, who only smirked.
"if we‘re together in general people are going to think we‘re a thing." he smirked down at the girl walking with him.
y/n rolled her eyes, "that’s not exactly what i want…i can‘t be seen as one of your little rotations."
heeseung put on a playfully hurt expression.
"that’s really all you think of me, huh? just some fuckboy?"
y/n nodded. "pretty much!" she shot him a soft smile, feigning affection.
heeseung only snickered in response, but when his own umber eyes looked into y/n‘s he couldn’t help but notice just how pretty she was as the sun beamed down on her skin.
entering the café, y/n took note of the strong smell of sweets and coffee blending together in the air, the other university students sitting inside studying under the dimly lit lights, creating a cozy atmosphere, perfect for a break after a day of long, draining university classes.
"this place is so cute…" y/n looked around at the wood panel walls, the faux candles lit all around and the large bookshelf next to the entryway, adding to the library-esq vibe of the café.
heeseung smiled at y/n‘s reaction, her look of awe causing him to feel a small little butterfly in his stomach, but he quickly swatted it away.
"you‘re paying, you invited me out." y/n points at heeseung as she walked up to the register to order, him trailing not too far behind.
"yes, ma‘am," heeseung teased, pulling out his wallet.
"can i have a caramel frappuccino with tapioca pearls, please?" y/n asked in her sweet voice—sounding just like honey.
"i‘ll just have a taro milk tea." said heeseung as he pulled out his credit card.
the cashier said dryly, "that‘ll be $13.85."
and as heeseung inserted his card, y/n slyly peaked over to get a good look at it, which didn’t go unnoticed by heeseung. he just let out a confused laugh. "what‘re you lookin‘ at?"
"your credit card number," replied y/n truthfully. "you said it was your goal to make me like you, and gift giving is my love language." y/n closed her eyes, placing her hands on her chest as she softly swayed her body side to side.
heeseung gently nudged y/n. "yeah, yeah, don’t get too ahead of yourself."
and as their boba was ready, y/n quickly grabbed her drink, placed the baby blue straw inside and immediately took a sip, reveling in the sweet, caramel flavour going down her throat. with a satisfied mmm sound, she started walking towards the door, leaving heeseung in a state of confusion.
"where are you going?" heeseung questioned, his brow slightly raised.
"i‘m going back to the dorm. you took me out like you wanted." y/n shrugged slightly.
"you know i‘m getting real tired of asking you that." heeseung smirked, sipping his tea.
y/n only smiled facetiously. "then give me a reason to stay." and with nothing else, y/n walked out, leaving heeseung once more dumbfounded.
and heeseung didn’t like this pattern he saw forming.
ᡣ𐭩 •。ꪆৎ ˚⋅
y/n didn’t walk back to her dorm, though. she was going to hang out with karina at the mall. pulling out her baby pink iphone, y/n clicked karina‘s contact to come ask her to pick her up.
"where you at hoe?" joked y/n as soon as karina picked up.
karina laughed. "at yunjin‘s dorm. i‘m leaving now. where are you?" y/n could hear rustling on the other end.
"near that little café by school—i think it’s called makoko." y/n paused to look at the street name. "i‘m working the corner of rochester street. come pick me up when i‘m done with my next client."
karina playfully rolled her eyes at y/n‘s joke, her car‘s startup engine roaring in the background. "i‘ll be there soon. split some of that cash with me, hm?"
"of course. love ya!" y/n blew a kiss to her phone and karina reciprocated.
opening up instagram to kill time, y/n stood, leaning against the wall of a building while she waited for her best friend.
scrolling mindlessly, mind lost in the depths of liking her favourite celebrities‘ posts and judging her mutuals stories, she hardly noticed a tall male figure approach her rather menacingly.
"all alone?" the deep voice startled y/n, his tone callousing and scary. y/n slightly jumped back, her eyes suspiciously scanning the man up and down. but y/n doesn’t play with scary men like this.
"no, i‘m with somebody. your scary ass can leave now." she spoke sternly, taking slow backwards steps away from the dark haired man.
"i don’t see no one," the man smirked his big lips, a look of lust shining through his eyes as he stepped intimidatingly closer to y/n, following her.
"fuck off nasty ass hoe i don’t know who you think you are because i will rock your shit if you try something!" warned y/n with a fist forming, holding it up in the air like she was going to pop him in his face.
but before the creepy man could vocalise his thoughts, another male came up from behind him and punched the side of his head, making him stumble over, a gasp of shock leaving y/n‘s mouth upon seeing not only the violent action—but the person assaulting the creep—who was…heeseung?
"heeseung wh—" y/n was going to ask him why he was here, why he was defending her—but was overpowered by his aggressive shouting at the big, now less taunting man who was harassing her only moments ago.
"who the fuck do you think you are, hm!?" hesseung yells through gritted teeth, blowing punch after punch, blow after blow onto the man who was laying on the ground, his arms over his face in a defensive manner.
"keep your hands off her and your fucking mouth shut!" heeseung was practically seething at this point, his fists nowhere but the man‘s now bloody face.
y/n wasn’t going to tell heeseung to back off the man—if anything the man deserved it. so she watched from the sidelines, patiently observing, waiting for heeseung to finish.
and for a few more moments, after punching and kicking heeseung spat on the man‘s face as if he were a flithy vermon (which in any sane person‘s mind, including heeseung, that’s what he was equivalent to.)
heeseung marched towards y/n, his face still appearing angry. he aggressively gripped
y/n‘s wrist, yanking her, forcing her to follow heeseung from behind as he angrily started walking.
"in broad fucking daylight, is he insane?"
heeseung scoffed, talking mainly to himself, but y/n could hear.
"heeseung where are you taking me?" she slightly winced at the tight grip he held on her wrist.
"back to your dorm. where i thought you were going." heeseung‘s voice was practically a growl.
"heeseung—i have a ride i was waiting for to go to the mall. i can handle myself." y/n says as she tries to yank her wrist away from heeseung, but his grip only grew tighter.
"clearly you can’t. i wonder what would have happened to you if i hadn’t stepped in, hm?"
y/n only rolls her eyes in disbelief at heeseung‘s words.
"now give me your phone." heeseung holds out his hand towards y/n, still not looking at her.
"why?" she questions, visibly hesitant.
"just—just give it to me. or i‘ll take it myself." there was no indication heeseung was kidding in his tone. so y/n handed the boy in the grey hoodie her phone after opening it, and he went straight to her calls. he clicked on someone’s name before speaking,
"karina?" his tone stayed firm. "yeah, it’s heeseung. look, you‘re the one giving y/n a ride, yeah?" he paused, letting karina respond. "‘kay. i‘m taking y/n to that park not too far from campus. the one everyone hangs out at—pick her up there. something happened she can explain to you later." and without another word, heeseung hung up before opening y/n‘s contacts, adding a number. he handed y/n back her phone, open on the page of the brand new contact.
"my number," he spoke, tone softening slightly. "just to call or text me if anything else like this happens.." heeseung‘s voice held a hint of what y/n could be mistaking as affection…but there was a little bit of something other than coldness. almost like his reasoning was some excuse. she only nodded, murmuring a thank you as they arrived at the park everyone usually hangs out, called "the hill."
heeseung sat down on a cold, metal bench, y/n sitting close to him.
he immediately cupped y/n‘s face, tilting her head in every direction possible, eyes narrowing in on her soft features like he was analysing her. before y/n could protest, he asked, "are you okay? if he laid as much as a single finger on you, y/n, i‘m promising you i‘ll go back there and kill him with my bare hands."
y/n shook her head, a bit taken aback by heeseung‘s sudden protectiveness. her dainty hands stayed with a silent grip on heeseung‘s wrists that softly held her face.
"you should have let me take you home—i should have offered…i‘m so sorry, y/n…" heeseung adverted his gaze from the girl, guilt oozing from his voice.
"it’s alright, really," y/n started with a calm voice, her thumbs rubbing soft, soothing circles on the inside of heeseung‘s wrists, "nothing happened to me." she put on a soft, comforting smile, but it quickly faded when heeseung snapped.
"because i stepped in! y/n who knows what that guy was planning!?" he takes a deep breath to calm himself, voice struggling to stay steady. "what if he hurt you, hm? i don’t…i don’t want that to happen to you." his gaze lingered on y/n, his thumbs caressing the sides of y/n‘s face he was still holding.
"since when have you…" y/n pauses, trying to find the right words. "since when have you cared like that? about anyone?"
heeseung scoffed, his tone coming out offended. "just because i like to fuck around doesn’t make me a bad person, y/n—i would have stepped in and saved any girl that was happening to." his dark brown eyes lock with y/n‘s as if he was searching for something in the pools of her irises. "but you‘re the first girl i‘d go to this length for. the first one i have gone to this length for…if you were anyone else i would have just walked away as soon as i pulled that guy off you."
"why?" was all the stunned girl could manage to get out, her brows furrowed in more curiosity than confusion.
"there’s something about you, i‘ll admit. like a magnet that pulls me in. partly because you left me hanging last week—but just…" heeseung sighs. "the way you don’t want me—it makes me want you even more."
y/n simply laughs. "is this why you‘re being so nice to me?"
heeseung nodded.
"it’s a nice try, heeseung. but you‘re going to have to try a lot harder than give me some speech you‘ve given all your other flings."
and as if she were saved by the bell, y/n saw karina‘s little white toyota pull up to the car, a small honk coming from the vehicle catching both heeseung‘s and y/n‘s attention. she removed heeseung‘s wrists from her face and stood up.
"where are you going?" heeseung wondered, a hint of what almost seemed like panic laced in his voice.
"that really is all you ask me, huh?" y/n teased before walking off towards karina‘s car.
and with another sigh, heeseung slipped his hands into the pockets of his jeans, and slid down the bench so his neck was resting on the edge as he looked up to the blue sky.
it had only been a week since they met and this damn girl already had him wrapped around her finger.
what‘s wrong with him?
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Mission- Bucky Barnes
Wearning: +18,smut
Request: yes!
The jet lands with a jolt on the deserted runway of a private island. Outside the window, palm trees sway in the breeze, and a pink sunset paints the horizon. There’s no time to appreciate it, though. You’re here for a mission, and it’s already off to a bad start.
“I can’t believe I have to do this with you,” scoffs Bucky Barnes, throwing you a look of pure disgust.
“The feeling is mutual,old man,” you reply through gritted teeth. Your name, Y/N, is printed on the fake passport you’re holding, but your real task is far more complicated than maintaining a false identity. The mission requires you and Bucky to pose as a happily married couple to infiltrate an exclusive gala hosted by an international arms dealer.
“Wasn’t there literally anyone else available?” he asks, shaking his head.
“We’re not here for sympathy, Barnes. You’re the only one with a shady enough past to avoid suspicion.”
He laughs, but without a shred of humor. “And you’re the only one who speaks enough languages to keep up with a crooked diplomat. Just don’t expect me to pretend I enjoy being here.”
“And don’t expect a hug from me,” you reply with an icy smile.
---
The villa assigned to the two of you is luxurious: white marble, designer furniture, and an ocean view that takes your breath away. Too bad the tension in the room is heavy enough to crush any promise of relaxation.
“There’s only one bed,” you say, pointing to the massive king-sized bed in the middle of the room.
“Perfect,” Bucky replies, dropping his bag on the armchair nearby. “I’ll take the couch.”
“Not a chance. I need proper sleep for tomorrow night’s gala.”
“Don’t worry, princess,” he says with a smirk. “I wouldn’t come near you even by accident.”
You finally decided to share a bed. You were wearing shorts and a tank top as you stared at the ceiling.
Bucky lies next to you, tense and unmoving. Even without looking at him, you can feel the distance between you both, like a chasm that can’t be crossed. Your eyes wander to the ceiling, tracing the pattern of shadows in the dim light. Finally, he breaks the silence.“Do you expect me to believe that you actually need sleep?” he mutters under his breath.
"What?" You ask, turning to him.Bucky doesn't turn to you, but his voice is still laced with sarcasm. "You heard me. I know you're used to pulling all-nighters for missions. You don't exactly act like the type to need a full eight hours to feel refreshed."
You look at him with a twinkle of sarcasm. "Well this time it's different, I'm on a mission with you and I have to put up with you, so I need sleep".
Bucky rolls over onto his side, finally facing you. “Oh, so I’m such a pain that I keep you awake now?” he says with a smirk. “Is this how you treat all the people you’ve ever worked with?”
"not just old men who think they are better than others" you reply looking at him.“Old man?” He repeats, sitting up on the bed. “You’re really calling me an old man? Aren’t you supposed to flatter your partner on these missions? Or is that just reserved for the men you actually like?” he jokes.
You roll your eyes ignoring him.Bucky doesn’t get ignored easily, though. He scoots his way towards you in the bed, his prosthetic arm brushing against your arm. “What, no smartass reply? I can’t believe I’ve finally managed to shut you up,” he teases, his voice low and quiet.
“Keep your hands or I'll turn your other arm into vibranium too,” you threaten.
Bucky holds up his hands in mock surrender. “Easy, sweetheart. I’m just trying to get a reaction out of you.” He scoots even closer, so that you can feel the heat of his body next to you. “And I think I’ve succeeded.”
“Very funny arm wrestling,” you say sarcastically.“You got plenty of jokes, huh?” Bucky replies, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He leans in a little closer, the distance between you almost vanishing. “You know, I can think of a better way to occupy that smart mouth of yours, princess.”
You turn and find yourself a little too close to him. "Oh really?" you say sarcastically.Bucky takes advantage of your proximity, invading your personal space even further. His face is inches from yours now, his breath dancing across your skin. “You’d be surprised,” he murmurs, a hint of danger in his voice. “I’ve got some ideas….”
Bucky’s fingertips graze your jaw, sending a shiver down your spine. “I wonder if you’d be this sarcastic if I took away that smart mouth of yours.”He shifts his weight on the bed, pinning you against the sheets as he leans over you. He’s so close now that you can feel the heat of his breath on your face.
"What the hell are you doing?" You murmur, looking at him above you.Bucky smirks, relishing your surprise. “What does it look like I’m doing?” he asks, his voice a low growl. His head dips down, his lips brushing against your neck. “I’m testing a theory….”
Bucky's hands roam over your body, the metal one surprisingly gentle. “Tell me your theory,” you manage to gasp as his fingers tease the edge of your tank top.Bucky's lips find your ear, his breath hot against your skin. “My theory is that your smart-ass mouth isn’t as tough as you think it is,” he whispers, his teeth grazing your earlobe. “And I bet I could find a more entertaining use for it.”
“Your theory is wrong old men” you say.Bucky laughs at that, his chest rumbling against yours. “Oh, we’ll see about that,” he says, his hand sneaking under the hem of your shirt. “I’ve yet to see you speechless. I bet I could make you speechless. I bet I could make you forget every smartass comment you’ve ever thought and make you begging for more.”
“get your hands off me” you say looking at him.Bucky's hand stills, pressed flat against your stomach. “Is that what you really want?” he asks, his voice a low murmur. “Or are you just saying that because you’re too stubborn to admit you like my hands on you?”
"Why would I like it, hm?" You murmur, looking at him.Bucky grins above you, his eyes flicking down to your lips. “Oh, I think you do. I think you like me this close to you. I think you like the way my hand feels on your skin….”
His prosthetic hand travels up, pushing under your top until you can feel the cool metal against the skin of your stomach. “I think you’re just too stubborn to admit it,” he says, his voice a sultry whisper.
His fingers trace the edge of your bra through your shirt, a light touch that sends a shiver down your spine. “I think you’re struggling to keep hold of all those smartass comments, aren’t you?” he murmurs. “I think you’re about to lose your words completely.”
“fuck you” you blurt out looking at him.Bucky laughs, his voice a deep rumble. “Now that’s exactly the kind of dirty talk I like to hear,” he replies, enjoying your reaction. His hand slips down, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your shorts. “You know, you really should watch that mouth of yours, princess.”
You could feel his hardness touching you and you looked up at him. "You like this kinky game, yes?" you murmur.
Bucky’s smirk turns into a grin, his eyes darkening with want. “I like anything that gets a reaction out of you,” he replies, his hand roaming across your hip and up your thigh. “And you’ve been giving me quite the reaction.”
His hand slips under your top, his fingers splaying across your back. He pulls you closer to him, his hips grinding against yours. “But I have a feeling we could both have some more fun…”
You hold back a moan feeling his hardness more towards you.Bucky’s smirk only widens as he hears your stifled moan. “That’s more like it,” he says, his hand moving to the back of your neck. “I was wondering how long it would take for you to make a noise for me.”
"you won't get anything from me" he murmured not with the same certainty that characterizes you.Bucky laughs, his breath hot against your skin. “Oh, princess, I think you underestimate me,” he replies. “I’ll get you to make all sorts of pretty noises for me before the night is over.”
His lips find your neck, his teeth nipping at your skin. “And you can’t fool me,” he murmurs. “I can feel you shivering, I can hear your breathing getting rougher. You like this, don’t you? You like the way I’m touching you….”
His hand is roaming over your body, pushing your shirt higher over your stomach and your chest. “Go on,” he urges, his voice husky. “Say it. Tell me you like it when I touch you like this….”
“No, I don’t,” you say even as your sighs grow heavy.
Bucky laughs at your stubbornness, but there’s an edge to it. “Oh, princess, you’re a terrible liar,” he says, his hand moving to your waist. “I know you want this. I can feel it in the way you arch your back when I touch you. And I’m not going to stop until you stop pretending.”
His mouth is on your neck now, his teeth scraping against your skin. “Stop playing games, sweetheart,” he murmurs. “Tell me you want me. Tell me you need me.”
You moan at the contact. “no, I don’t” you say in a tense voice.
Bucky’s smirk widens, his hand sliding up your leg. “Your moans don’t seem to agree with your words,” he murmurs. “I know you can’t resist me. I know you’re just as much of a mess under my touch as I am under yours….”
His hand moves farther north, slipping under the hem of your shorts. “Give in, princess,” he whispers, his voice a low growl. “Just say the words and I’m all yours….”
You closed your eyes trying not to give in but you could feel Bucky's hand playing with your thong.Bucky lets out a low chuckle as he feels you react to his touch. “There you go,” he murmurs, his fingers playing with the lace of your lingerie. “I know you’re close to breaking, isn’t that right? I know you’re just moments away from giving in…”
His thumb brushes against your most sensitive spot through the thin fabric, drawing a gasp from your lips. “Come on, princess, I want to hear you say it,” he says, his voice dripping with want. “I want to hear you admit that you want this as badly as I do…”
You moan at the touch and arch. “I hate you so much” you murmur.Bucky laughs huskily, feeling your body respond to his touch. “No, you don’t,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin. “You don’t hate me at all. You hate how much you want me…. How much you need me….”
His fingers toy with the waistband of your shorts, his hand edging them down your hips. “Admit it, princess,” he whispers, his teeth nipping at your earlobe. “Admit that you want me as badly as I want you….” His hand moves to your inner thigh, his touch light and teasing. “Say the words,” he urges, his voice low and rough. “Say you want me, princess. Say you need me just as badly as I need you….”
You bit your lip to keep from giving in but it was very difficult, you were wavering and you just wanted him to give you pleasure.Bucky lets out a low curse as he feels you resist him. “You’re such a stubborn little thing,” he grumbles, his hand tightening on your thigh. “But I won’t let you keep up this act, princess. I’ll break you, it’s only a matter of time…. Just say the words, sweetheart….”
His fingers slide further up your thigh, edging up under your shorts. “Just a few words, princess,” he urges, his voice rough with want. “Just tell me you want me, and then I’ll give you what you need…”
You moan again but you don't want to give in. "No".Bucky curses again, his fingers tightening on your thigh. “You’re so damn stubborn, princess,” he mutters, his voice tight with want. “But you’re also lying to yourself….”
Bucky finally leans down and kisses you passionately and hungrily.The kiss is almost violent, a clash of need and desperation. Bucky’s lips are hot against yours, his tongue seeking yours as he presses you into the sheets. He bites at your bottom lip, then leans back, his eyes dark with desire. “Say it, princess,” he growls, his hand still on your thigh. “Just say you want me….”
You moan and kiss him. Bucky laughs huskily, his hand moving up your body. “There we go, princess,” he murmurs against your lips. “That’s what I’ve been waiting for…”His lips move down to your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there and causing you to gasp again. “Say it, princess,” he repeats, his hand finally moving up to cup your core. “Just tell me you want me….”
You moan at his words and surrender to him. "I want you".Bucky lets out a low growl of satisfaction as he hears your words. “That’s what I thought,” he mutters, his fingers trailing against your skin. “I knew you couldn’t resist me for long.”
He takes your wrists in his hand, pinning them above your head. His body presses against yours, his weight holding you in place. ��Now that wasn’t so hard, was it, princess?” he whispers in your ear, his breath hot and heavy.His hand slides down your body, his touch sending shivers down your spine. “But now that you’ve given in, I’m going to have some fun with you…” he murmurs, his voice dark with promise. “I’m going to make you scream for me…”
He kissed you again and put two fingers inside your panties and into your core making you moan into the kiss.Bucky lets out a low chuckle as he feels you arch against him. “That’s it, princess,” he murmurs against your lips. “Let it out. Let me hear how good I make you feel…”He moves his fingers slowly, finding a rhythm that makes you moan again. “I knew you’d feel good,” he whispers, his eyes dark with want. “
His fingers move a little faster, the pressure inside of you increasing. “But I bet I could make you feel even better…” he murmurs, his mouth moving down to your neck. “I bet I could make you scream for me".
“Bucky” you moan and arch once more.Bucky’s smirk is almost feral as he hears you moan his name. “There it is,” he mutters, his fingers working faster as they press deeper into you. “I knew you’d sound like that when you finally let yourself go…”
He bites at your neck, his teeth sinking into your skin. “And I know I can make you moan louder, sweetheart… if you beg me right…”
His fingers move again, finding a place inside you that makes you gasp. “Beg me, princess,” he murmurs, his voice rough with lust. “Beg me to make you feel good. Beg me to give you what you need…”
You felt his fingers go faster and faster inside you and you could feel yourself getting close. “Please Bucky,” you murmur.Bucky grins at your words, his fingers moving even faster. “Please, what, princess?” he murmurs, his mouth moving to your ear. “Say it. Tell me what you want me to do…”
“let me come please” You murmur moving your hips on his fingers.
Bucky grins at your pleading tone, his fingers finally getting the reaction he wanted. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough. “You sound so pretty when you beg for me like that… so pretty when you ask for what you want…”
His fingers move a little faster, going deeper. “You’re so close, princess,” he whispers, his breath hot against your skin. “I can feel it. I can feel your body tensing up… begging for release…"
He moves his mouth back to your neck, his teeth nipping at your skin as he presses his forehead against yours. “But you have to ask me nicely if you want it…” he mutters, his voice raw with need. “You have to beg me for what you need, princess…”
You whimper at his words. “please Bucky, I’m so close” you murmur.Bucky’s grin widens at your words, his fingers finally giving you what you’ve been craving. “Yeah, you like that, don’t you?” he mutters, his touch rough yet still gentle with you. “You like it when I make you beg for it…”
“please” you murmur moaning feeling yourself getting closer and closer.Bucky’s fingers move a little faster at your words, his touch more insistent as he moves against you. “Almost there, princess, you’re so close,” he murmurs, his voice a low growl. “But I need you to say those magic words. I need you to beg me one more time…”
"Bucky please" you scream.Bucky grins at your scream, his fingers moving faster than ever inside you. “There it is, princess,” he mutters, breathing hard. “You sound so pretty when you scream my name… now let go for me, sweetheart."
You moan at his words and come on his fingers. “fuck” you murmur, closing your eyes in pleasure.Bucky let out a low growl as he feels you come on his fingers. “That’s it,” he mutters, his voice rough with satisfaction. “That’s my good girl…”
He withdraws his fingers and brings them to his mouth, licking them clean. “You taste so sweet,” he murmurs, his eyes dark with lust. “I knew you’d be sweet"
Bucky leans down, his body pressing against yours. “But I’m not done with you yet, princess,” he murmurs, his voice low and dangerous. “Not even close…”
You look at him knowing you were in for a long night.
#bucky barnes drabble#bucky barnes fic rec#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes blurb#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes headcanon#bucky barnes headcanons#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes imagines#bucky barnes one shot#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes oneshot#bucky barnes reader insert#bucky barnes sex#bucky barnes x oc#bucky barnes x reader smut#james bucky barnes#james bucky barnes x reader#james bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x yn#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x ofc
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Hey girl!
Love your work, especially the Dae-ho stuff and I’m so glad I found your page!!!!
If I can, can I request more smut… WHO SAID THAT
I don’t know if you need an idea, maybe if you do what I’d Dae-ho and fem reader are in an established relationship and they haven’t had sex in a WHILE, you got it from there ;)
-🦑
Omg I’m so sorry I didn’t see this but yes >:)
𝐃𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐬 (18+)
[𝐃𝐚𝐞-𝐇𝐨 𝐗 𝐑𝐞��𝐝𝐞𝐫]
Summary: You and Dae-Ho have been extraordinarily busy trying to stay afloat from all the debt. It led to long days, and shorter nights. Both of you spending less and less time with each other. But one argument actually helps release some long built tension :)
Warnings: Smut, Minor arguing, angry turned passionate sex, kitchen fucking, p in v, fingering, unprotected sex,
Word Count: 1,703
Your shoulders slack as you finally get home, holding your purse close to you as a reminder to stay awake. It was a long night at work. Your eyes stung from the dryness. You fumble for the keys to your shared apartment with your boyfriend, Dae-Ho. Debt had been weighing heavily on both your shoulders and his. Many times did you come home to your lover already asleep, and many times did you wake up to an empty bed.
Entering your home, you’re surprised to see the living room light still on. Dae-Ho was sitting at the dining table, back hunched slightly over his laptop. He turns to see you arrive, squinting his eyes and then rubbing them.
“Hi, honey. Wow, is it that late already?”
He checks the clock on the screen. You nod, rubbing your head. A migraine had creeped its way to the left side of your skull. You flick on the kitchen light to get yourself some water. But you’re greeted by a ghastly sight, dirty dishes stacked up in the sink. The chronic stress you were under turned your minor irritation into full frustration.
“Dae-Ho, I thought I told you to clean that…!”
You pinch the bridge of your nose. Dae-Ho leans back in his chair, getting scolded making it harder for him to not get defensive.
“‘m sorry, I thought I did it already. I have a lot of stuff to do too, you know.”
His tone made him come off a little more self justifying than he intended, which further amplified your annoyance. You hum, looking to the ground.
“Oh, yeah, I’m sure.” You mutter sarcastically. Dae-Ho’s eyebrows furrow as you go and grab a glass. “What’s that supposed to mean?” He sat up a bit straighter. “It means I’m not the one in 250 mil debt, Dae-Ho!” You knew you’d regret being so harsh but right now you couldn’t care less. A dry chuckle leaves his lips. “Don’t act so innocent. You’re in mil debt territory too!”
“I just wanna come home to a clean house!”
“You want me to do it so bad? Fine!”
Dae-Ho gets up from his seat and storms to the sink. “Y’know more than half of these are yours, though.” He’d say quietly, wanting an end to the conflict but also wanting to get that point across. You grip at your hair, your teeth grit. “Why are you making this so difficult? You think I like coming home super late and being so tired I can’t do anything but crawl in bed? I miss you!” You raise your voice, but lowering your volume mid shout. As angry as you were, you didn’t forget your boyfriend’s discomfort with shouting and aggression.
He’s about to turn on the sink, still heated. “I miss you too—!” Until he saw you pulling your hair, making him instinctively grab your wrist. “Stop that-!”
You jerk, trying to release yourself. “I wouldn’t be this pissed off if you had just did what you said!” Your struggling made you step back, now feeling the cold kitchen counter on your back.
“You think I like going to bed alone too? Barely being able to see you, huh?!”
His breath is hot on your face, the close proximity being mere inches. You find yourself staring up at him. Being pinned to the counter, his rough grip on your wrist, it made a certain heat rise in your stomach. You both don’t say anything for a few minutes, just glaring at each other. Until you use your free hand to grab the side of his neck and pull him in for a searing kiss.
Dae-Ho makes a surprised sound before reciprocating, groaning against your lips. He lets go of your wrist, instead choosing to grab your hips and pull you closer to his body. He presses you further against the counter, making you moan lightly as you had your hands tangled in his hair.
You lift a leg up, giving Dae-Ho a chance to grab your under thigh and lift your leg higher. You feel his bulge against your wet core, he was already getting hard. Had it really been that long since you two have done it?
You hook your leg around his waist, grinding against his body. A deep rumble leaves Dae-Ho’s throat, he pulls back, a string of saliva connecting you both. “Fuck…” He pants for air. Disappointment and anxiety creeped up faster than you could’ve imagined. This was the first time you two were this passionate in awhile. You couldn’t let him pull away now.
You grab the cuff of his shirt and yank him back toward you. Oh that shirt, you always hated it. The design reminded you of some clown graffiti you’d see in a sketchy part of town. You’d rather see your boyfriend without it on.
As you kiss him again, you slide your hands up underneath his shirt. His skin was hot, his hips stuttered as you ran your fingers over his abs. Dae-Ho shuddered a little. But he leaned closer, his tongue dancing along with yours. He’d attempt to speak to you in between your hot temperature kisses.
“Wait—is this… okay?”
You cup his cheeks and look him in the eyes, you could see you both were much less angry. But the passion brewing was one you couldn’t let simmer. You needed that shit to over boil.
“Dae-Ho. Fuck me. Now.”
Dae-Ho did not have to be told twice as he dived back into your lips. The passionate exchange only broken for a moment as you made him take that ghastly shirt off. His hand slowly slid down your pants as your hands slid around his neck. Dae-Ho groans in your mouth as his hand feels your soaking folds. You whimper in pleasure, trying to somehow get closer to him. He starts to rub your clit in smooth slow circles. You whine out, Dae-Ho letting your sounds fill the room so he could hear you clearly. His mouth was slightly open, as if mimicking the shape your mouth was making.
He slips in a finger, curling it and making you bite your lip. Dae-Ho thumbs the bottom of your lip. He leans in close.
“Don’t. I wanna hear you.”
His tongue swirls around yours before his lips connect for a quick peck. He inserts another finger, now drawing out all your sounds. He plunged them in and out of you in a steady rhythm. You still had both your hands on the back of his neck.
“Fuck… fuck, fuck… Dae-Ho…!” You couldn’t take it, you needed more. You took off your shirt, and aggressively pulled down your bottoms. You’re left in just your bra and underwear for him. His fingers didn’t leave your dripping cunt, continuously finger fucking you. You felt yourself getting close, but this isn’t how you wanted to go. “Dae-Ho~! Get… inside!” Your command somehow made the male even harder, his cock stirring in his pants.
He removes his fingers so he could lift you up onto the kitchen counter. While you desperately removed your panties, he took off his pants and got his member free.
Dae-Ho lines up with your entrance. Your wetness being more than needed for a lubricant. “Fuck, you’re so wet. All this cause of me?” He’d remark with a light cocky smirk. You glare up at him, still needing your nerves fucked out of you.
“Shut up.”
The male narrows his eyes and enters you with one thrust, bottoming out. You cry out, wet enough where it didn’t hurt, just raw pleasure. “Oh fuck—!” You choke on your own words. Dae-Ho barely gives a moment to adjust as he starts ramming into you at a fast pace. Pumped full with adrenaline, you didn’t mind at all. It almost felt like having sex for the first time. But you’ve never felt Dae-Ho’s thrust so desperately before. He had his hands on your hips, pushing you further down on him to meet every thrust. You were seeing stars, almost drifting away from the feeling. But then, you hear a,
“I love you.”
Dae-Ho was looking at you with a deep sincerity. You gaze into his eyes. Of course, now you remember, you were fighting. Your heart grew so full. You cup his face, and lull him closer.
“I-I love you too!”
You both kiss lovingly, now out of pure passion and love for each other, than out of lust. His rhythm struck slightly out of order, and you knew he was close. Before you could even hold out for him though, you come undone. You cry out his name, your head arched toward the ceiling. Dae-Ho sped up, his thrusts sloppy, but yearning.
“(Y,n)… (Y,n)…! Shit…!”
He lets out a held back roar, finishing inside of you. You cling onto him, whining with broken gasps. Your hands drift from his back to his shoulders as the two of you calm down.
Panting, Dae-Ho rests his head against your collarbone. You weakly rub his head, closing your eyes. He slowly comes out of you, creating a light squelching sound.
“Don’t be mad…I love you.”
His tone was soft, hesitant. You recognized this vulnerability from him, and slowly wrap your arms around him. “I love you too…” You say sincerely. Dae-Ho doesn’t say anything back, but he does scoop you up bridal style in his arms.
You’re carried back to your bed, and he lays beside you. It was late, and you were more than happy to get some rest after that. You can safely say you’re no longer angry. To double check on that, Dae-Ho mumbles,
“I’ll do the dishes in the morning, I promise.”
He gently pushes a strand of hair from your face. You scoot closer, signaling your boyfriend to embrace you in his open arms. He plants a kiss on your head. You listen to his heartbeat, the way it beat so fast.
“I’m sorry…”
“…I’m sorry too…”
The two of you lay there together, drifting off into a well needed slumber. But for the first time in awhile, you felt like your relationship with your lover was secure. And how, that’s one way to get out of doing dishes.
#dae ho#dae ho x reader#dae ho squid game#squid game#squid game s2#squid game x reader#squid game smut
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MOOD SWINGS
୨ৎ ─── when the mood swings and cramps get too much, your down bad lover’s always there to help you deal with it…
&&엔하이픈니키 ✦ 𝑏𝑓. niki x 𝑓. reader ♡ l’avis . . . est. relationship fluff crying periods pda wc384
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mick’s 注記 ─── first day of my period and ive already cried once and rage quit on homework… (so annoying istg) im so annoyed with myself and everything and everybody else that I just can’t even anymore. so, to make me feel better, here I am presenting you with my man and how he would be when he makes you cry on accident!
NIKI NEVER EXPECTED TO MAKE YOU ACTUALLY CRY.
today did not have a wonderful start; you realised your period started as soon as you woke up in the morning, and called off your date with niki because of your crappy mood and cramps. him, being the sweetheart he is, insisted on coming over and cuddling with you, totally fine with helping you out if you needed it.
one moment, you were just debating on what was better — chinese food or korean — when suddenly tears welled up in your eyes for no reason. damn mood swings.
his eyes widened as a sudden panic set in, immediately taking a step closer and cupping your cheeks in his hands with a touch so gentle, one could think you were made of glass. ( read more below the cut >< )
he knew how bad your mood swings and cramps during your period were, sometimes making you a raging ball of fire and tears once a month, but he didn’t expect to make thick tears start to form in the corners of your eyes.
“baby… what’s wrong? did i do something wrong?” his tone was soft — so soft it was barely above a whisper. you shook your head slightly, signalling that it wasn’t his fault.
he gently wrapped his arms around you, holding you close to his chest as you let out a few, small sobs. his heart ached with each one, even knowing that he didn’t do anything to cause it.
even when your sobs stopped sounding, he continued to hold you, rubbing soothing circles on your lower back that he knew would somewhat help the relentless stabbing pain in your abdomen.
you pulled away from his chest, eyes still teary. “i’m sorry, I just couldn’t control it…” you mumbled, slightly embarrassed at having cried for absolutely no reason like this. “it’s not your fault, y/n. in fact, it’s good that you let it out,” he spoke, voice gentle as ever. “so, how about some of your beloved chinese takeout and a movie? and cuddles, of course.”
a smile room over your features in an instant, a stark contrast from the tears that were just beginning to dry on the apples of your cheeks.
“do you really think I’d say no to that, ki?”
thank you for reading !! likes + reblogs are really appreciated ><
PERMANENT TAGLIST 𐔌 ﹒ @liya07v @strvvy-anniee @flufflights @eunandonly @hannamoon143 @irasvr @ateez-atiny380 @amoressb @ikeulove @gudkc @mrsjohnnysuh @sol3chu @nerdywitchcrown @sol3chu @puma-riki
#( 𝑚a ) 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐢𝐄 . a work of 𝑎𝑟𝑡#niki#enha#nishimura riki#riki nishimura#riki imagines#riki x reader#nishimura riki x reader#riki fluff#enhypen riki#ni ki x reader#niki imagines#niki imagine#niki fic#niki au#niki x reader#niki enhypen#enhypen x reader#enhypen imagines#enhypen fluff#enhypen scenarios#enhypen fics#enhypen
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As funny as these memes are, they drive home to me that the general public doesn't really understand capitalism or how evil billionaires really are. To achieve that level of wealth, it isn't a matter of having accumulated something as "concrete" as money in a savings account. Billionaires COULD "lose it all" in a few weeks because getting to that level of wealth requires multiple balls in air at any given time. Debts and credit lines and funds and corporations and real estate. Stock and other speculative, theoretical values assigned to things that aren't real but require large amounts of human suffering to attain.
Billionaires don't have 999 million USD in their accounts. That's part of why they never see themselves as "rich". Why they always feel like they need more, because capitalism only works if they are trying to get more. At that level of wealth, if you are not making more, you are LOSING "money". There is no keeping what you have made and stopping. It's either accumulating or depleting.
This is also why ethics are penalized and viewed as a nieve hindrance more and more as you work up through wealthier and wealthier circles. It is that every person has a level of ethics that acts as a limitation to how far they are willing to go on that ladder. The richer someone is the more they are going to view what you consider standard human empathy as a stupid fairy tale that you haven't realized "nobody actually lives by" because it holds you "back".
That's also why wealth is best predicted by birth. It isn't only that they have massive boosts to generate wealth. (Money makes money) it's that kids raised in groups that socialize them to believe that level of selfishness is normal have a leg up on everyone still trying to act in prosocial ways.
The next time you hear our politicians say something about being middle class, or rationalize that they aren't part of the elite, or some other tone deaf Comment about how broke they really are: remember that they really believe it. Because they are always conscious of how close they are to sliding down. The same as the rest of us. EVERYONE feels like they are just about to lose it and fall into the pit of not making ends meet. That is the way the system is set up to function. That is how capitalism works.
It isn't a bad system that enables bad people to take advantage of everyone else. Capitalism is EVIL. It rewards and REQUIRES evil to function, and it never rewards anyone playing with a feeling of peace or safety. The only prize that the billionaires have won is that they know they are better off than the majority of the world. That's it. That was the whole trophy. They don't feel peace. They don't feel safe. They don't feel complete or like they have achieved their potential. Their entire point of living is to cause suffering to everyone so that they know they are better off.
It isn't about having enough money. The purpose is to know that we don't have enough.
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I was listening to a true crime podcast and they mentioned Lolita. I braced myself for a bad take, because I'm so, so used to that - only for the cohost to bring up that his mother, a pediatric forensic psychologist, got into psychology because she read Lolita when she was 12. Reading all the ways the narrator justified his crimes and rewrote events to tell himself the child started it unnerved her so much she got books from the library on psychology and then on criminology. She wanted to know if people really did that. When she found out that they did, she became determined to find a way to help children who were trapped by master manipulators.
And so the true crime podcast's conclusion was that books are not inherently going to make you do anything and they didn't care that the killer was really into reading books about Nazis and Nazi crimes. If you're a good person, you would read that and be motivated to do something good. In order to read it and be motivated to want to torture someone who's a minority, your own mind and you as a person would already have to have a desire to do that. You would have to already be inclined towards hurting others for that to be fuel for that fire.
The YouTube comments were, predictably, a mix. Lots of 20 and 30 somethings yelling about how fiction causes crime, yeah, but a lot of 40 somethings and over going, "No. That's not how this works. Did you listen to the episode? This man had sadistic instincts as a child, he didn't get them from reading books on Nazis when he was in his 20's. He was already evil, actually". But despite the people determined to think reading makes you do things, I found it overall to be a net positive. Because a lot of people in the comments were saying things like "I never thought about it that way" and "I didn't realize dark fiction could help someone", etc. And that gives me hope maybe these people can be reached.
--
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Said I Wouldn't, Part 1
Pairing: Dad!Terry Richmond x Virgin!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader
Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT. Cursing, teasing (fem receiving), fingering (female receiving), All consensual. Sorry if I missed some.
Summary: Babysitting for Terry had its perks. You were able to see his gorgeous ass every night before heading off to your own house next door. And because he went to the gym on Wednesday nights, you had extra time to explore his room and live in your delusions. But when Terry catches you, you are unprepared for what comes next.
Word Count: 7,608k
AO3 Link
A/N: I...am just going to be honest. I am a WEAK woman when it comes to Aaron and since he's hellbent on killing me, I may as well surrender. Need that man. That full sleeve turned me FERAL. This should be a two-parter. I also fucked around and caught a bug, ugh. Pray for me. Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.
“Will you marry me?”
You gasped as you turned to Mr. Terry’s son, Troy, as he looked at you with the sweetest expression on his little face. His eyes were wide and pleading, a shy smile on his face, as he glanced at you like you hung the moon.
Aww, how come there were no guys your age who wanted to marry you? Then again, you’d actually have to go out with someone for all that and well, you had better things to do. Like get your degree, find a better job, and actually do the whole adult thing before you brought a man into that.
You licked your lips to give yourself time to think of a proper answer. Though you didn’t know how you were supposed to navigate something like this. Mr. Terry hadn’t given you a laundry list of what was appropriate for you to handle and you were a bit out of your depth.
“That is really sweet of you to ask and you’re very brave. But I am entirely too old for you, buddy,” you said.
Troy tucked his legs beneath him and sidled closer to you. His shoulder knocked into the coffee table disrupting his homework and you fought a smile at the eagerness in his little body. “I’ll be a great husband! I’ll open doors for you and make you chicken nuggets!” He persisted.
See, the definition of romance. Who didn’t want their doors opened for them and chicken nuggets on demand? You put your pen down on the coffee table next to your own abandoned homework. You faced Troy and fought hard to keep the smile from your face. He was being serious so you’d respond in kind.
“That is a very tempting offer, Troy. But I’m very sorry. I have to say no,” you said.
His face crumpled but to his credit, he didn’t cry. He only scrunched up his face like he was lost in thought. He looked so much like Mr. Terry, it was frightening.
“But you’re so pretty! Like Dad said. And you’re a good person. Dad always said to find the prettiest, smartiest, good person and marry them. Not like bad girls,” Troy said.
“What makes a girl bad?” You asked. Out of all the things Troy said, your mind stuck on the fact that Mr. Terry thought you were pretty. It shouldn’t. It was wildly inappropriate, not to mention a cliche and a half, but…Mr. Terry was drop dead fuckin’ gorgeous. If someone like that called someone like you pretty, then…maybe…
“Dad said when they’re ma-man,” Troy said. He scrunched up his face again and then dug a small notebook from his pocket. He flipped a few pages before poking out his bottom lip. “Ma-mani-pu.” Troy sounded out the word, badly, but you knew better than to try and help him.
“Manipulative,” Troy finally pushed out.
You smiled and nodded your head. “That’s very good. You should stay away from those girls. In fact, the only thing on your mind should be those books you stopped paying attention to,” you said and tapped his math homework.
“I can do both,” he said, giving you a grin.
You chuckled. Just like his damn daddy… You rolled your eyes and tapped on his homework again. “Math homework, young man,” you said.
Troy sighed but you could already tell this would be an uphill battle. He sat back on the floor and tucked his legs under the table to complete his homework. He was a bit too small to really manage, but he wanted to be next to you while you did yours.
You worked in silence, working on your own homework, and when Troy was finished you looked over his answers. This new way of doing math was beyond you and that was without struggling from the old way. It looked about right. Hell, Troy needed to look over your homework with how smart he was.
“Great job, buddy. This goes straight to your backpack so you don’t lose it. And then it’s bath time,” you said.
Troy groaned, dropping his head dramatically to the coffee table. Your shoulders danced with silent laughter. What was it about kids avoiding the bath like the plague? Or maybe you were just a weird child all around. You loved taking baths and taking your Bratz dolls with you so they could go “swimming”.
“You know, if you want to make a great husband, there’s nothing girls like more than a boy who has good hygiene,” you said.
“Really?” Troy asked, popping his head up to look at you. “Even you?” After you nodded, Troy packed up his homework into his binder and then rushed to his room. This kid had your entire heart. You’d be sad to stop babysitting for him when Mr. Terry finally figured out what he’d do with the separation from his horrible wife. There would probably be a more permanent, vetted babysitter.
You were absolutely biased against Alivia, Mr. Terry’s wife. After moving in next door about a year ago, you had a front row seat to the awful way she treated Mr. Terry and Troy. Constantly shrieking and belittling them, no matter what they did. Keeping both virtually locked up in the house.
You could count on one hand the amount of times Mr. Terry or Troy had friends over. Or hell, a grandmother or cousin or something. When there were visitors, it was short lived. You were also witness to the screaming match when Mr. Terry finally threw her ass out of the house with nothing but a suitcase a few months back.
How anyone could treat those two like that was beyond you. But you didn’t know all of it. Only what you were able to see and be nosy about. Since you had no real life of your own, you spent your free time making up scenarios about other people. It was fun…until Mr. Terry invited you into their world to be a babysitter.
And since then, your severe crush only grew more ridiculous. Bordering on creepy really. But you just couldn’t help it. You’d have killed to have a life like this. A stable home, a wonderful kid, and a husband who was good and provided. You didn’t think this life was perfect, no life was perfect, but dammit…you yearned.
Troy started the bath and you stood up from behind the coffee table to stretch your legs. You fixed the deep rose colored bodycon dress you wore. Not entirely appropriate, but you skipped laundry day and who knows when you’d get another chance considering one of your roommates was a hog.
You walked down the short hallway to the bathroom and knocked on the door. “I’m in here!” Troy called out.
“Good, make sure you wash behind your ears, please!” You said.
“I will!” Troy called back.
You had about twenty minutes before Troy would be done. So you looked around the house, knowing full well you were alone, and then snuck off to Mr. Terry’s room. Yes, you knew it was wrong, but you couldn’t help it.
You managed to swipe an old T-shirt of Mr. Terry’s a month ago and so far, he hadn’t noticed. Or if he did, he just hadn’t mentioned it to you. It was the stupidest, boldest thing you’d ever done, but you couldn’t muster the energy to feel guilty about it. It was an old MCMAP shirt that you slept in nearly every night. It still smelled like him, years of his natural scent soaked into the fabric.
You did a deep dive on Mr. Terry after that, justifying it by telling yourself that you had to know who you were dealing with. Mr. Terry found you on a babysitting app but since you were right next door and a little friendly already, he bypassed all that to pay you directly. You appreciated the extra cash, but people were sick these days.
But every piece of information you managed to find out only made you fall in love with him that much more. He was on the freakin’ Wikipedia page, like…how could you not fall in love? You loved when people were really good at what they did. You were sure there was a name for it, but fuck if you knew it. You only knew that when someone was exceptionally good at something, it got you all hot and bothered.
Slipping into Mr. Terry’s room, you took a deep breath. This was where he laid his head at night. The rustic decor somehow fit the image you had of him in your mind. He had a dark, rustic walnut headboard that stretched to the ceiling. On it were two lamps that pointed to the bed.
On his nightstand, he had the same historical novel he started a month or so ago. He had a simple, thin brown blanket on his neatly made up bed. That was point one in why you would never actually work with someone like him. He was too neat for your blood. He’d probably have a heart attack seeing the state of your bedroom.
You tried, you really did, but well. You were grown enough to admit you just hated picking up after yourself. Not when you had better things to do like binge anime and go down Google rabbit holes for random things you thought about.
His furniture was simple, functional, much like the man himself but there was something so alluring about being in a man’s personal space. And you did mean a MAN. All capital letters included. You made sure to never touch anything. You just liked getting a peek behind that stoic exterior.
You glanced at your watch, still making good time, as you looked at the small bottles of cologne. They were nearly filled to the top so maybe he didn’t use it as much? Maybe he naturally smelled that damn delicious.
On his dresser, he had a few pictures thrown about of Troy and Alivia. You sucked your teeth looking at the batshit woman he married. Why did guys tend to go for the crazy, loud women? Were they allergic to peace? To a quiet night at home, basking in gooey love?
As your therapist put it, the world was not a stage and no, you couldn’t direct people’s actions. You were not that powerful. What Mr. Terry decided to do in his own bed was his own business. Speaking of…
You sat down on the edge of the bed and cast your eyes about the room. You didn’t always come in here. You weren’t that big of a pervert. Just on Wednesday nights. That was when he stopped by the gym after work. And he always came home sweaty and out of breath. If he were a bit closer, you were sure that he would jog or bike to the gym rather than taking his car.
As you sat there, you let your mind wander. What would it be like coming home to someone of his caliber? Someone able to carry a damn conversation beyond wondering what you were doing every two seconds. Someone to discuss books and themes with. Someone to binge anime with you and discuss the power scaling. Fun stuff.
An engine pulled up outside the house and you scrambled to get out of the man’s room as quickly as possible. The car door slammed outside and your heart pounded in your chest. Okay, he was a little too early tonight. You closed the door behind you just as his keys turned the lock. You jogged to the kitchen and opened a cabinet, grabbing a cup just as Mr. Terry’s keys hit the key bowl beside the door.
“Mr. Terry, hi,” you said, closing the cabinet door. You walked over to the fridge and poured a glass of water that you clearly needed.
Mr. Terry walked further into the kitchen and then gave you a small smile, putting his hands into his gym shorts pockets. He wore a simple gray T-shirt soaked through with sweat and damn, damn, damn, he looked good. His arms bulged underneath the short sleeved shirt, deep veins running along his arm. Delicious.
“Dad!” Troy barreled into the kitchen with a towel wrapped around his waist.
“Whoa, okay,” you said and turned around with a chuckle.
“Troy, we have company. You can’t run around naked like that,” Terry said. You heard movement but refused to turn around.
“I asked her to marry me, but she said no. But I was able to say manipulative,” Troy said, slowing down around the big word.
“Is that right?” Terry asked.
“Uh-huh. She said girls like when boys have good hygiene. So you should probably bathe too,” Troy said.
Terry laughed and you heard wrestling. “Is that your way of saying I stink?” Mr. Terry asked.
“Well, I wasn’t going to say anything…” you chimed in, not wanting to be left out.
“Oh that’s cold, you both got jokes. You, put some lotion and clothes on. And brush your teeth,” Mr. Terry said.
“Good night, Troy!” You called after the little boy as he took off towards the bathroom.
“Good night! See you tomorrow!” He yelled.
“It’s safe to turn around,” Mr. Terry said.
Naw, it really wasn’t. But you took a deep breath and turned around anyway. Somehow, the second time seeing him in all his sweaty glory was just as heart-stopping as the first time. You forgot all about your guilty activities as you openly stared at him in the kitchen.
It was by no means a small kitchen, but it felt claustrophobic standing there. As if his presence was a physical force field pressing into you from all sides. It was your stupid crush on the man that made you all tongue tied when you got around him.
“I hope he didn’t bug too much. I know he has a big crush on you,” Mr. Terry said.
You waved your hand. “He’ll grow out of it,” you said. They always do. But you kept that little tidbit to yourself. Though…you did want to ask about the pretty comment Troy mentioned earlier. But you were too chicken. Instead, you stood there awkwardly in this man’s kitchen for no reason. Other than to count the drops of drool pooling in your mouth.
“I should get going,” you said. Your chest was still beating rapidly and you needed to get out of his immediate vicinity. Like right now. You washed out the cup you used.
“You didn’t have to,” he said.
You giggled. “Now, what kind of guest would I be if I didn’t clean up after myself?” You could clean up for other people but when it came to yourself, you lost all motivation to do so. It was the ass-backwards manners you were brought up on, but hey. It wasn’t like anyone was coming to visit your messy bedroom anyway.
“Let me walk you home then,” Mr. Terry said.
“I’m just next door,” you said. You dried off the cup and replaced it in the cabinet. He stepped out of the way so that you could walk past him. His eyes tracked you as you moved through the living room, collecting your homework and pens.
“What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t?” Mr. Terry asked.
“Oh, you’re a gentleman now,” you said and giggled. Did you have a flashing neon sign professing your guilt? Or did your guilt make you suspicious of everything? Because right now, it seemed like Mr. Terry was employing high level interrogation tactics, staying cool and calm while he let your guilt do the talking for you.
“I’ve always been a gentleman,” he said.
You could only giggle, too nervous to say anything else as you loaded up your backpack and threw on your cut off jean jacket. Terry’s mesmerizing hazel eyes followed each movement. Were you that bad at acting? Was he about to tell you that he had cameras in his room and knew exactly what you did on Wednesday nights?
You needed to get a life and a half. Because the thought of getting caught only made it that much naughtier. Your imagination ran wild thinking of ways he could punish you for it. Preferably with a spanking. You bet those beefy hands would give a good one.
“H-How was work?” You asked. Damn, that sounded nervous, didn’t it?
“Same old story, different day,” he said.
You nodded. You sucked at conversation so you promptly shut your trap and walked with him outside of the door. The night air was crisp, the late January night so frigid that you could see clouds of your breath escape with each exhale. Dew collected on the blades of grass outside of Mr. Terry’s house and it soaked into your flat sandals, tickling your toes.
“How’s your degree goin’?” Mr. Terry asked, breaking the silence.
“Good. Though I think one of the professors hates me,” you said. You sucked your teeth, thinking of Mr. Shoop, your English teacher. If you didn’t have a comma in the right place, he marked you down for one reason or another.
“I’m sure it’s impossible to hate you,” Mr. Terry said.
You snorted with laughter, immediately censoring yourself as you released the ugly laugh. He didn’t need to hear all that. You cleared your throat and shrugged, telling him about the latest run in with Mr. Shoop. You made one little comment about the current book you were studying in class, and now he had it in his head that you were an uppity Negro.
“Fuck him, then. You’re supposed to challenge the status quo in college,” Mr. Terry said.
You giggled and crossed the low cement border to your own place. The grass was less green, more brittle and dead because no one in the house fucking cared about aesthetics. This was not your forever home. Once you graduated, you were getting the fuck out of here as if your pants were on fire.
“You ever go to college?” You asked.
“Naw. Enlisted as soon as I turned 18,” he said. His voice was like sweet honey in the middle of spring. It didn’t belong on this cold, quiet night in the ‘burbs. “It’s why I want Troy to focus on his grades. Make sure he has every opportunity I didn’t.”
The automatic porch light turned on bathing you both in its warm, yellow glow. It also highlighted your ugly brick porch with the mailbox half hanging off of the wall. You cringed as you climbed the steps but focused on the conversation.
“You’re doing an amazing job with him, Mr. Terry,” you said.
He scrunched his face, most definitely like Troy, and shook his head. “It’s just Terry,” he said.
“Yeah but –”
Mr. Terry stepped closer to you, drawing up to his full 6’3 height and looked down at you. You hoped he couldn’t hear your painful gulp.
“No buts. I’m not stepping down until you agree. We’re damn near the same age,” he said.
You opened your mouth to argue the point but his fierce eyebrows drew down in a challenge. You reared back with a grin and Mr. Terry’s eyebrow shot up in a dare. You licked your lips and nodded. Okay, touché.
“Terry,” you said, trying it out. It still sounded so wrong.
“Say it again,” Terry said, his eyes drooping lower.
“Terry,” you nearly whispered. Terry - gah, that was still so weird - leaned forward and for half a second, you thought he would kiss you. That he would plant those gorgeous pink lips on yours and kiss your sandals right off your feet.
Instead, he chuckled and then looked down. He shook his head and then stepped back. “My job isn’t done until you’re safe inside,” he said.
“You take this pretty seriously, huh?” You asked. Stupid. Why the hell would a man like that kiss his babysitter? Probably saw you as some teenager next door, even though he was correct. You were almost the same age. But he was more mature and put together than you could ever hope to be.
“Very seriously,” he agreed.
You dug in your jacket pocket for your keys, the tips of your ears aflame as you continued to berate yourself. To be clear, you knew you were pretty but you got tongue tied around gorgeous men. Regular men you could deal with. They were the regular, easy pickin’s off of any vine. But Terry was like a fully baked apple pie sitting in a window somewhere. Mouth watering, steamy, and sinfully tempting.
Men like that went for super thin fashion models or apparently, screaming harpies who liked to belittle men. And just like that, you remembered that he was technically married. There was no way that an upstanding man like Terry would step out on his wife, separation or no.
“Well, the neighborhood is safe since we have a man like you to keep watch,” you said. You turned the lock and opened the door, waving goodbye over your shoulder. Terry waved to you and then took off down the porch, clapping his hands together as he went back to his own house.
You closed and locked the door behind you, leaning your back against it as you sighed. That was entirely too close. But in your defense, he typically showed up after Troy was done with his bath. You’d have to get your snooping down to a more manageable time.
You groaned and headed to your room, bypassing the discarded clothing on the floor and random water bottles thrown about the foyer area. Pigs.
Living with two guys and another girl was the bane of your fucking existence. You and Gia had to put your foot down and explain that you weren’t their mothers or sisters or maids and you would not pick up after them. In rebellion, the two men, Andre and Malcolm, doubled down by not picking up after themselves either.
So if one of them slipped on their own shirts or didn’t have clean dishes, that was on them. Money was tight as you went through grad school, but you had enough to eat out and find alternatives to cooking. To each their own in this fucking house.
You made it to your room and closed the door, turning on lights and getting ready for bed. You settled in for your third watch of Jujutsu Kaisen, sitting comfortably in Terry’s MCMAP shirt but your mind raced as you played tonight over and over in your mind.
“Can I tell you a secret?” Troy asked, the following Wednesday night.
“Of course,” you said.
“I like when you’re around. My dad doesn’t seem so sad,” Troy said.
Cue your heart breaking in three, two, one…you sighed and put your pen down on the coffee table. Right back in your regular seats, Troy continued with his social studies homework as if he didn’t just say the saddest thing ever.
“What do you mean?” You asked.
Troy stopped writing but didn’t look up from his homework. “Dad was sad a lot when Mom was here. But he smiles more when you’re around. So that means you can’t leave, okay?” He asked and looked back at you with a shy, sad smile on his face.
“Troy, is that why you asked me to marry you? So I wouldn’t leave?” You asked.
Troy nodded. “Plus you’re really pretty. And soooo smart,” he said.
Kids. You smiled and hugged him, bringing him closer to you. “You don’t ever have to worry about these things, okay? Your job is to do your homework and listen to your dad. I’m right next door. If you ever need anything, you come get me, okay?” You asked.
Troy nodded but didn’t seem much convinced by your assurances. He was a kid but old enough to recognize when shit wasn’t sweet at home. With a mom like his, it was a wonder he stayed so innocent.
You were playing fast and loose with semantics, but Troy didn’t technically ask you to keep the secret. Only if he could tell you one. You’d have to talk to Terry when he got home and make sure the man talked to his son.
It couldn’t be easy trying to raise a kid in a broken home. The good Lord knew your own parents had a rough go of it. But Troy’s only concern should be which yogurt was in his lunchbox. Not his dad’s happiness or lack thereof.
You helped look over his answers and helped him in the few areas he got wrong. You helped him solve the problem on his own, not just hand him the answers. “Alright buddy, bath time,” you said.
“Because girls like boys with good hygiene,” he recited.
“Exactly,” you said and nodded your head.
Troy grabbed his homework and stuffed it into his binder. Then he turned to you with a serious expression on his face, entirely too much like his dad. He was eight. What eight year old needed to be so serious?
“One day, I’ll be old enough to marry you,” he promised.
You giggled. “You are going to meet the love of your life and forget all about little ole me,” you said.
Troy shook his head and grinned. “I could never forget you.”
“You know what, you sweet talker. Bath time, now. You’re too young to think about marriage anyway,” you said with a giggle.
Troy skipped into his room to put up his homework and then he trudged to the bathroom with a change of clothes and a fresh towel. You heard the bath water running while Troy hummed to some song you didn’t know.
You checked your watch. After such a close call last time…you really shouldn’t. But it had become a ritual at this point. Your body compelled you to move, to go to his room and pretend for twenty minutes that he was coming home to you.
You didn’t actually want this type of domestic life but…well, who were you fooling? This was exactly what you had planned for your life. But as a nerdy, thickum Black girl with too much time on her hands, no one was exactly beating down your door for your hand in marriage.
Let alone anything resembling sex. You’d become an expert at handling things yourself but you didn’t know what the actual act was like. And it was too embarrassing to tell grown ass men that you were a virgin and waiting on an actual connection before hopping in bed.
Sue you, sex meant something to you. And you weren’t going to give up the cookies because some egg head batted his eyes at you and took you on one date.
You spun around in Terry’s room trying to determine if he moved anything. Added anything. Removed anything. You just liked knowing him. Knowing a side of him that most didn’t get to see. It was what kept you going, something silly to keep your mind busy when school got too tough or the roommate situation sucked hot marbles.
Your eyes caught on the book on his nightstand. He finally finished the historical novel. The new book he was reading was a crime novel and from the blurb on the back, it sounded pretty interesting.
You were so caught up in the blurb and the first page, taking care not to disturb too much, that you didn’t notice Terry’s car pull up. Or his keys in the doorway, or him calling your name. You were so absorbed in it, that you dropped the book when Terry entered his room.
“Oh,” you gasped.
Your heart jumped to your throat as Terry smirked and tilted his head. “What are you doing in here? Where’s Troy?” He asked.
“Bath time,” you croaked out. Your throat turned dry and scratchy, pulling each word out as if it were being dragged over jagged glass. You had no good excuse for why you were in this man’s room, picking up his book, when you were supposed to be watching his son.
What if Troy had drowned? What if he suddenly lit the house on fire? Shame made your stomach gurgle as your mind raced for any type of excuse or reason to be in his room. Babysitting 101 was watching your damn kid.
Terry stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. You were frozen, rooted to the spot, heart beating rapidly and your fingers started to shake. What was he going to do?
Terry walked closer until he bent down to pick up the discarded book. He flipped it over and dusted it off, being entirely too casual for your tastes. “What were you doing in here?” He asked, his voice too, too calm.
You backed away towards the wall and shook your head. When your back collided with it, you were out of space. So you began to move to the side, sliding against the wall and trying to create some distance.
Terry turned with you, stepping in time with you, not letting you out of his sight. It was his right. It was his house after all. And you were the creepy pervert in his room. “I didn’t steal anything, I swear,” you said, your voice too small.
“That’s not what I asked,” he said. He smirked as if this was all a funny misunderstanding. Like it was normal to find you being a creep in his room.
“You don’t have to call the cops, I promise. I’ll leave and…I won’t come back,” you said. God, you didn’t even want to try and explain this to the cops or your family. You were completely mortified and disgusted with yourself. You knew you should have left it alone.
“I didn’t say anything about the cops,” he said. He stepped closer to you and you smelled the sweat and overall male scent wafting off of him in waves. He wore a red shirt this time, soaked through with sweat and clinging to his well honed chest.
He was tall as hell, looming over you whether he wanted to or not. You didn’t know this game he was playing and you just wanted to leave. You were at a loss of what to say or do. He blocked the exit with his body. There was just him. His broad shoulders, his wide chest, his hypnotizing eyes.
“What were you doing in here?” He asked softly.
“I just wanted to know you,” you said just as softly. It was a pathetic excuse but at least it was honest.
“Why didn’t you ask me?” He asked.
You snorted with laughter before clicking your mouth shut. Terry’s eyebrows furrowed and he reached out to cup your cheek. You looked from his hand to his face. Was this man okay? Shouldn’t he be…angry? Upset? Confused? You’d broken his trust in the worst possible way. Got yourself plum fired over something so stupid. This wasn’t going the way you thought it would in your mind.
“Why do you do that?” He asked.
“Laugh?” You asked. God, you felt like an idiot.
Terry smirked. “Stop yourself from laughing. It drives me nuts,” he said.
“Oh,” you said. You shook your head and shrugged. “I have a weird laugh.”
Terry leaned closer so that his nose rubbed against yours. “I keep waiting to hear it but you don’t ever let yourself laugh out loud,” he said.
You narrowed your eyes but you were slowly calming down from the threat of discovery. For the time being, it looked like Terry wasn’t going to smack you to kingdom come. This…you didn’t know what this was but you weren’t about to stop him either. This was the closest you’d ever been to him. Ever. You were going to soak up every detail before he kicked you out flat on your ass.
“I didn’t know you were waiting to hear it,” you said.
Terry leaned away so that he could look into your eyes. Fuck, he was so pretty. With his ever changing eyes, one of your favorite past times was trying to figure out what color they were. Sometimes they were so blue it would make the ocean jealous. Sometimes they were a stormy gray. Other times, they were a pale brown. It was insane but kept your mind busy.
“You drive me crazy,” he said, the words slowly spilling from his lips with that subtle drawl.
“Me?” You asked and snorted. Oh, if he only fucking knew… He drove you to distraction without even trying. One look, one sound from him and you were ready to bend over, ass up, and let him have his wicked way with you.
“Is that surprising?” He asked.
“Um…yeah,” you said and giggled. This was like the statue of David coming to life and asking a painting on a date. The mediums were both gorgeous but one was more lauded than the other.
“I know I can be…serious,” Terry said. You snorted again and he tapped your nose. “But I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. Like I was some creep, you know?” He asked.
“Yeah, well. I’m the one who was in your room, being inappropriate. I completely understand if you want to fire me…”
“Troy would kill me if I did,” he said and smirked.
You giggled. “You’d still have the right to. I am really, really sorry,” you said.
Terry’s hand moved from your cheek, down the sides of your body before landing on your hips. You gasped, your body tingling in areas you didn’t know you could tingle. Like his hands were a live wire and your body responded in the most unusual ways.
“You always seemed so nervous around me. I thought I scared you,” he said.
“The opposite actually,” you admitted. Hell, at this point, you might as well lay it all out. Put yourself on a silver platter, ready to be served up to Terry’s mercy. His thumbs pressed into your tummy and you gasped, shivering.
“The way you respond…have you ever been with anyone?” He asked.
You shook your head. You didn’t have the words to say you were a virgin. Didn’t want to be even more of a loser in his eyes. Terry cursed softly under his breath and shook his head.
“So no one’s ever touched you? Why not?” He asked.
You licked your lips and shrugged. “Guys just don’t like me like that.” It was the only answer you had to give. You were the in-between friend. You were the holdover friend people had before they found their forever person. Without fail, any man you were interested in went on one or two dates with you before suddenly finding the light of their fucking lives.
After the last guy literally went to the bathroom on your date and came back with someone else’s number, you swore off any hunt for a partner. What was the point? You wasted outfit after outfit, faced disappointment after disappointment, and well, you just wanted off of the merry-go-round.
Terry tilted his head before stepping away. He pulled you towards his dresser and made you face the mirror. He pressed in behind you and you sighed, feeling a bulge rub against your ass.
You stared at his face in the mirror and watched as his face ran through a gauntlet of emotions. Like he was fighting with himself and losing the battle, fast. He placed his chin on your shoulder and then sighed.
“What do you see?” He asked.
“Me…and you…” You said. You weren’t trying to be a dumb ass, but it seemed like he was playing chess while you were playing Bingo.
Terry smirked. “What do you see when you look at yourself?”
You took a deep breath. You began to describe the features that you saw in the mirror. The way you did your hair, the way you did your makeup, the jewelry that you wore. Terry shook his head.
“I see a sexy, beautiful woman. I see someone that drives me fuckin’ nuts. A woman that makes me want to do awful, disgusting things to,” he said.
“Ahh,” you said and shivered from the intense look in his hazel eyes.
Terry’s hands moved up to cup your breasts over the top of your bodycon dress. You chose the burnished orange one today, once again at the mercy of Malcolm who acted like he was the only one who could use the fucking washing machine.
You moaned and bowed forward but Terry’s hands kept you upright. No one ever told you how different it was for someone to touch you as opposed to touching yourself. Everything seemed more intense, more lively, more electric.
“And I just can’t hold myself back anymore. Tell me to stop,” Terry said. He moved his head to kiss your neck, your jaw, and behind your ear.
You moaned, body shivering from how good he felt. How right his hands felt on your body. He pulled the top of your dress down, cupping your bare titties in his hands and pinching your nipples.
“Oh, fuck,” you moaned, knees getting weaker the more he tugged and pinched and pulled. Your pussy responded, throbbed, and you grew wet instantly soaking your panties.
“Tell me to stop,” Terry said, near begging as he continued to kiss and lick on your skin.
“I-I can’t,” you sighed. How could you tell him to stop when this was the only thing you ever wanted? The only thing you ever dreamed of?
“If you don’t tell me to stop, we’re going to cross a line. I need you to say it, please,” Terry said. As he spoke, his hands gripped the sides of your dress and pulled until your dress pooled around your hips.
You moaned as his fingers touched your thighs, fingers digging in and massaging you. His hands moved towards your panties, cupping you over the flimsy fabric. There was a thin layer separating you from what you most wanted.
“I can’t say it. You have to be the stronger one,” you said. He had to be. Because at this moment, there was nothing you would deny him. If he wanted a star from the Hollywood Walk of Fame, you’d be there the next day with a jackhammer and crow bar.
Terry dropped his head to your shoulder and groaned, his fingers moving closer to the seat of your panties. “I need you to say it,” he said.
You shook your head. You leaned forward and planted your hands on the dresser top, no longer able to support yourself standing. You were absolutely weak in the knees, ready to collapse at any given moment.
Terry’s left hand snaked around yours and grasped yours, fingers tangling. His right hand finally pushed your panties aside and he groaned, finding you soaking wet. “Fuck,” he moaned.
“Oh my god,” you moaned.
It was wildly different for his fingers to be there instead of your own. He moved expertly, soaking his fingers with your essence and playing with your clit. You shook violently on his fingers, too in your head to enjoy what he was doing.
“Breathe,” he whispered.
You sucked in deep pulls of air, your breathing returning to a normal rhythm. You nodded though you were out of your mind with pleasure. With feeling. His fingers plunged into your pussy and you cried out.
“Shh, shh,” he whispered.
Right. Right. There was an entire kid taking a bath at the moment. And here you were letting his dad play with you like a damn fiddle. You couldn’t find one ounce of regret. One ounce of shame.
His fingers helped you find heaven, light exploding behind your eyelids as your stomach twisted and caved from the pleasure he was delivering. His left hand tightened on yours as you got closer and closer to your orgasm.
“Fuck, fuck me. Please,” you begged. You needed to know what it felt like. Needed to know right this second what he felt like getting inside you. Your pussy was empty, aching, begging for his dick and you pushed your ass into his bulge to get him to cave.
Terry groaned and pushed into you, pushing your hips against the edge of his dresser. He moaned as he dry humped against you, timing his wrist movements with his strokes.
“No condom,” he panted in your ear.
“Please,” you begged. You whined, you cried. You didn’t have a fucking clue what you were saying, only that you needed that bulge inside you. NOW.
Terry bit your ear. “I’m not gonna endanger you,” he said.
You collapsed forward. He leaned against your back and then got down to business. Rubbing your clit in circles until you leaned up on your tip toes and bit your lip as you came, flooding his fingers with your slick as the orgasm rocked you on the spot.
Your world quaked, cracked in half, and then was brought back together by Terry’s grunts and groans. As you came down, you panted and huffed, no energy left in your body. Terry withdrew his fingers and then brought his fingers to his mouth and suckled.
You watched him in the mirror as he closed his eyes. “Fuck,” you huffed.
Terry winked at you as he adjusted your panties and your dress. You opened your mouth plenty of times but there were no words to be found. What could you say? What could you do?
“Helllooooooooo,” Troy called out. He sounded as if he had been calling out for a minute.
Terry adjusted himself and then kissed your neck. “Don’t move,” he said.
He left the room and you heard him talking to Troy. He told the boy to brush his teeth and Troy tried to argue until Terry threatened to check his toothbrush. Troy laughed and his footfalls ran back to the bathroom.
You were still stuck in the same position you were before, hands planted on Terry’s dresser as if his command not to move had to be followed to the letter. You looked down at the pictures on his dresser, of his smiling wife and son.
Yet somehow…fuck her. You didn’t feel any guilt fucking her man in what used to be her bedroom. You didn’t know where she was or if she was even coming back. You didn’t hold any expectations. Only that you wanted what you wanted and you weren’t going to apologize for it. If this was the only thing you got from Terry, then so be it. Because it was…life changing.
Terry re-entered the room and closed the door behind him. He wrapped his arms around your waist and kissed your shoulder. “We’re going to talk about this.”
You nodded. Yes, there definitely needed to be a discussion about this. “Not tonight,” you said.
Terry tilted his head at you. “I mean…we both need to cool down and Troy needs you. We’ll talk tomorrow? When you get home?”
Terry looked as if he wanted to argue. He rubbed his goatee and sighed heavily. But he had to know you were right. The last thing you wanted to do was interrupt Troy’s routine. Doubly so now that his mom wasn’t home. God, that poor kid had enough to deal with.
Terry nodded but turned you around to look at him. He grabbed your chin and forced you to look him in the eyes. “We’re going to talk about this. Tomorrow. When I get home.”
You nodded. Terry pulled you close, giving you a tender, beautiful but way too quick kiss and then let you go. You gathered your nerves and then left his room, looking out for Troy. Not seeing him, you hurried over to your homework and gathered it up, stuffing it into your backpack haphazardly.
You were ten kinds of turned around. You needed to freak out about this before you could have an adult conversation about what happened between you. Time to lock down your emotions and feelings so that when Terry gave you “that talk”, the one about how this couldn’t happen again, you would be prepared. You wouldn’t embarrass yourself by begging, screaming, throwing up for not having another chance to explore more.
But…you said you’d be happy with this. And you would be. You so would be. This was…honestly the best outcome you never planned for. You finished and pulled on your sweater and walked towards the front door.
Terry called out to Troy that he was walking you next door and you said goodbye to Troy. The night didn’t seem quite so cold this time around. Perhaps your body was still flushed, reliving the best orgasm of your life.
Your shoes crunched beneath your dead lawn as you hopped up the porch. Terry stopped you with a hand on your arm. He rubbed his thumb back and forth but didn’t say anything.
What was there to say? He rocked your world? He shifted your axis? Up was down and down was up thanks to the power of his fingers? His fingers. Lordy lordy. Maybe you wouldn’t survive getting fucked by him. You were glad one of you had the presence of mind to be safe and not fuck without a condom.
“Tomorrow,” you promised.
Terry nodded and then waited for you to get inside before trudging back to his place. And no matter how many times you tried to feel bad, the only thing you could think of was his face as he moaned and his fingers buried to the knuckle in your pussy.
I just ain't slowing down any time sooooon. The Secret Terry Richmond Files
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If we're taking anecdotal evidence in the form of Quora threads and Reddit posts, I'll pile mine on the other side of the scale: I'm a millennial who went to college for computer science. It was a rocky time for me because I was socially coddled even if I took a lot of academically challenging classes, so I actually attended a few colleges. I'm a cis white male who's mildly bisexual, so short of not being disgusted by dick, I'm about as much the "group of focus" as you can get.
My experience at a total of three colleges is what turned me off of college and it has nothing to do with how many women are in a classroom. I went only because I need a degree to get literally any job in my profession. The degree is not an experience focused on personal growth, it's a commodity, a gate between you and the job you want. I would warn people away from college if they're at all open to a career that doesn't require it for that reason, not because "girls are icky".
It's frustrating to see what is pretty obviously a class issue (higher education has been commodified and used to gatekeep historically high-paying professions) turned into a gender/race issue (men think learning is for girls and thus bad). I'm not saying there's no man out there who refuses to go to college because there are people not like him at it, but I would wager that's a vanishingly small minority compared to the people like myself who experienced first-hand the shortcomings and drawbacks of college and want anyone who attends, women and POC included, to consider whether that will actually get them what they want. If college does right by you, by all means, I just don't want you saddled with thousands of dollars in debt and a subpar education chasing the mirage of plentiful well-paying jobs, the way I and my generation were.
Why aren't we talking about the real reason male college enrollment is dropping? (Celeste Davis, Oct 6 2024)
"White flight is a term that describes how white people move out of neighborhoods when more people of color move in.
White flight is especially common when minority populations become the majority. That neighborhood then declines in value.
Male flight describes a similar phenomenon when large numbers of females enter a profession, group, hobby or industry—the men leave. That industry is then devalued.
Take veterinary school for example:
In 1969 almost all veterinary students were male at 89%.
By 1987, male enrollment was equal to female at 50%.
By 2009, male enrollment in veterinary schools had plummeted to 22.4%
A sociologist studying gender in veterinary schools, Dr. Anne Lincoln says that in an attempt to describe this drastic drop in male enrollment, many keep pointing to financial reasons like the debt-to-income ratio or the high cost of schooling.
But Lincoln’s research found that “men and women are equally affected by tuition and salaries.”
Her research shows that the reason fewer men are enrolling in veterinary school boils down to one factor: the number of women in the classroom.
For every 1% increase in the proportion of women in the student body, 1.7 fewer men applied.
One more woman applying was a greater deterrent than $1000 in extra tuition! (…)
Since males had dominated these professions for centuries, you would think they would leave slowly, hesitantly or maybe linger at 40%, 35%, 30%, but that’s not what happens.
Once the tipping point reaches majority female- the men flee. And boy do they flee!
It’s a slippery slope. When the number of women hits 60% the men who are there make a swift exit and other men stop joining.
Morty Schapiro, economist and former president of Northwestern University has noticed this trend when studying college enrollment numbers across universities:
“There’s a cliff you fall off once you become 60/40 female/male. It then becomes exponentially more difficult to recruit men.”
Now we’ve reached that 60% point of no return for colleges.
As we’ve seen with teachers, nurses and interior design, once an institution is majority female, the public perception of its value plummets.
Scanning through Reddit and Quora threads, many men seem to be in agreement - college is stupid and unnecessary.
A waste of time and money. You’re much better off going into the trades, a tech boot camp or becoming an entrepreneur. No need for college. (…)
When mostly men went to college? Prestigious. Aspirational. Important.
Now that mostly women go to college? Unnecessary. De-valued. A bad choice. (…)
School is now feminine. College is feminine. And rule #1 if you want to safely navigate this world as a man? Avoid the feminine.
But we don’t seem to want to talk about that."
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cozy. n.jm
⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ childhood bff!jaemin, snowboarding au, fwb, sfw
synopsis. you and jaemin have been inseparable since you were children. when you and a few of your friends go on your annual mountain ski trip, the air grows tense when they find out that you and jaemin have been sleeping together. so what happens when an overnight snowstorm extends your trip, bringing a sudden change of plans and a very unlikely guest to your vacation: jaemins crush. will your friendship survive within the cold presence of snow or will it melt away once the sun rises.
wc: 6.8k
warnings. implied sex, suggestive, language, jaemin sucks, miscommunication (sorry), yn is wayy too nice in this
notes — ty to the anon who gave me this idea hehe i immeeediately thought of jaemin so i had to write it. i hope u enjoy this it was fun to write (also ended up being way longer than i expected butttt oh well)
the trip started 4 days ago.
you always loved your winter ski trips. you loved the way the snow glistened under the sun, illuminating the sky line in a crisp peach orange. you loved the way you could become carefree, no worries of college or having to pick up extra shifts at the cafe. it was always perfect, a spirited culmination of a frosty vacation.
like usual, you unpacked at lightning speed, occupying the room directly between jaemin and jisung and opposite chenle. as kids, you and mark used to argue over who got the room that you stay in, it being the only room in the cabin with a double bed, but after many years of relentless fighting, you always managed to beat him.
the five of you have been friends since before you could remember, constant pranks and silliness as kids soon became reliability and comfort as you grow into your late teens. but now that you all attend college together, you’re closer than ever.
admittedly, you’ve always been closer to jaemin than the rest, your childhood homes being next to each other, serving as a reason for you to play out in the street each evening after school. even as you entered high school and eventually college, you stayed close, despite jaemin’s tendencies to sleep around with girls and eventually ghost them soon after.
you would be mad at jaemin’s exploits, but you can’t exactly say that being mad at someone’s past actions is entirely justifiable, especially since his playboy behaviour has recently become less frequent.
the air in the cabin is surprisingly warm, a crisp layer of frost encasing the windows and blocking the breeze of snow as it falls upon the mountain that the cabin rests between. the sky, once blue, is now an iridescent hue of orange, reflecting off the snow on the ground and pulsing through the window and onto the wooden walls around you, making them glow. it is an utterly beautiful place, and you thank chenle’s parents for letting you stay here each winter unsupervised.
as you walk through the walkway and into the main room, you spot chenle upon the sofa, browsing the old vintage tv for any channels that don’t bore him profusely. mark and jaemin are playing a game of chess on the floor, resting themselves upon fluffy white cushions and muttering snarky comments to each other under their breaths. noticing your presence, chenle clears his throat, causing mark to look up at you, and eventually, jaemin to spin his body round in your direction.
“i’m bored.” you say, “that tv looks way too old to function and i don’t know how to play chess.”
chenle speaks first, “well, i mean, maybe if you actually spend some time with us, you might have some fun.”
“sounds like a blast.” you say sarcastically, “i just think we should go out and do something in the snow instead of just being all cooped up in here for the third day in a row.”
“it’s too cold.” jaemin utters, “usually it’s not this bad.”
“and? just put on an extra layer.” you reply, looking to mark for help.
sighing, mark speaks up to agree with you, and with his help, you eventually manage to convince chenle and jaemin to go and wake up jisung, before layering up and grabbing your snowboards from the shed behind the cabin.
as you all walk across the mountain to the ski area, occasionally partaking in a small snowball fight on the way, you hurl yourselves onto the ski lifts.
you sit in between jaemin and mark, ignoring mark’s teasing as you struggle to get yourself seated.
once the lift begins to climb, you feel an immediate sense of calm. you’ve always enjoyed these trips, a moment of relaxation away from home, all with your favourite people. it is true that you wish you could bring your girl friends along, but they all hate the boys with a passion for multiple, various (and valid) reasons, and so, with their permission, you go without them.
lost in your own thoughts, you don’t notice as you suddenly begin to slip from the ski lift, the bar doing absolutely nothing to keep you in place.
“yn?”, you hear jaemin’s voice beside you, a weird sense of distress lining his voice as he quickly grabs a hold of your arm, attempting to lift you back onto the seat.
but it’s no use, the snowboard beneath you weighs you down and you slip from his grasp.
“mark, she’s slipping.” jaemin urges the other boy beside you.
“shit.”
they both try to bring you up, but as you get higher and higher to the top of the slope, the ground begins to find your feet, pulling you down with it.
you stumble before landing upside down into the snow, luckily not sliding anywhere, but unfortunately feeling a sudden frosty chill as piles and piles of snow seep into your clothing and down your back.
noticing your discomfort, jaemin bends down, lifting your face to his and, with a gentle smile, he brushes your snow-covered hair from your face.
“it’s… everywhere.” you shiver.
“everywhere?” jaemin asks.
you roll your eyes. “not the time for jokes.”
it takes you a while to notice mark standing behind jaemin, but when you do, you tell them both to continue on without you and that you’ll find your own way back to the cabin to change your clothes.
nodding after making sure that you’re okay, mark leaves to snowboard down the slope, leaving you and jaemin as you sit, still shaking, covered in ice and snow.
“i’m gonna-“ you say, getting up.
jaemin interrupts. “let me help you.”
“i don’t need help.” you reply.
there is a moment of silence before jaemin speaks again, as if he is choosing his words carefully.
“i know a better way to warm you up.”
your face lines in an expression of shock.
“we promised we wouldn’t do it here.” you say, “what if one of the others see something?”
“they won’t.” he smiles at you before pointing in the direction of the others, all enjoying themselves drifting down the snow, swerving in all kinds of directions.
it doesn’t take much for you to give in. so when you get back to the cabin, eventually changing into some fresh clothes that will eventually be pointless, jaemin turns out to be right.
he does know a way to warm you up.
his request didn’t surprise you, and you’re unsure if the others finding out that you and jaemin have been secretly hooking up for the past year is an all too bad thing. but at the thought of them having a little bit too much fun potentially teasing you both, you decided to keep it on the down-low.
it was never supposed to happen; you and jaemin are best friends. but after jaemin’s vow to stop playing with girls’ hearts and your fresh break up with your ex, you both decided that the logical thing to do is to use each other when you need it. it was simple.
over the past year, you have established 3 main rules for your ‘friends with benefits’ situation. number 1: you and jaemin can both sleep with other people if you so wish, number 2: no feelings are involved, if one person begins to feel anything for the other, then you must break it off. (this one isn’t and never will be a problem for you two, but you need to add it there anyway; you’ve heard the stories about jaemin the ‘serial heartbreaker’, and you definitely don’t want to be a victim of that) and number 3: no sleeping together during the winter ski trip. right now, you are breaking a rule, and neither you, nor jaemin, seem to care. it does scare you a little, however, considering how easily jaemin was willing to break it, and it has you wondering how strong the other rules even are.
after cleaning yourself up, you make your way to the kitchen to make yourself and jaemin a hot chocolate, sprinkling far too much powdered chocolate on the whipped cream and having to clear up all your mess soon after. jaemin follows you into the kitchen, pulling his shirt back over his head.
“can i ask you something?” jaemin says, reaching his arm past you to scoop his finger into the whipped cream and swiping it onto your nose. you push him away, watching as he giggles at you frantically wiping the cream off your nose in annoyance.
“sure.” you reply, and he leans on the counter beside you.
“when was the last time you slept with someone else?”
if you say the question doesn’t surprise you, you’d be lying. jaemin knows you can sleep with other people, it’s part of your rules. so why do you feel as though you’re in trouble?
“last saturday. that party on joomi’s street. eric sohn.”
jaemin’s face is unreadable. you continue, “if you’re worried you have competition, i wouldn’t worry. it was just one night.” you laugh.
“oh, i’m not worried.” he replies, “especially after the way you were saying my name back in there.”
his head tilts to the side to point in the direction of your room and you look over on instinct, memories of the past 30 minutes flashing in your mind and causing you to forget what you were even about to say.
but when you look over to the doorway, something else catches your attention.
or someone else.
standing at the front door, snowboard in hand and ski mask pulled down to his chin, stands a mortified, and astonished mark lee.
you freeze up, and no longer from the cold chill of snow.
he has heard everything.
you’re completely fucked.
❆ ❆ ❆
pacing around the kitchen and watching as mark looks between you both, you begin to attempt to redeem yourself.
“look, mark, that wasn’t what it sounded like, me and jaemin would never.”
mark looks at you, skeptical, before turning his attention to jaemin, who stands in the back corner of the kitchen, leaning against a wall with his arms crossed as if none of this is bothering him.
mark looks back at you. “yoooo, i mean, i guess i always knew there was something off about you guys.”
you rush towards him, clutching his shoulders. “i promise you, mark, it’s not like that-”
“we’re fucking.” jaemin finally speaks, and yours and mark’s heads both whip towards him in shock. jaemin shrugs, as if it isn’t a big deal.
“jaemin.” you say sternly, “what are you doin-”
“what? he caught us, there’s no point in denying it.”
“this is unbelievable.” mark chuckles, “i gotta go tell the others.”
“no you don’t.” you say, grabbing a hold of his arm.
he rolls his eyes. “alright, but at least give me details, man. how long? when did it start? why?”
you look to jaemin, not wanting to answer for yourself.
“about a year,” he says, “and why not?”
“why not?!” mark exclaims in disbelief, “i don’t know, maybe the fact that you’re best friends? what if you end up catching-”
“not gonna happen.” says jaemin, “we dont see eachother like that, never will.”
mark only continues to laugh, “this is nuts. you guys haven’t been doing it all weekend, have you? i don’t think i wanna hear it if you guys end up getting busy while we’re all meant to be asleep.”
“nope,” you reply. “this is the first and only time we’ve done it here. we sort of made it a rule so that this wouldn’t happen.”
before you can finish your conversation, chenle walks through the door. “so what wouldn’t happen?” he says, scanning his eyes between yours and jaemin’s lack of outdoor wear compared to mark’s.
“nothing.” you reply.
“nothing?” he asks, studying mark and jaemin’s expressions.
there is a second where no one speaks, but that seems to be enough for chenle, because the next thing he says is: “you guys fucked, didn’t you?”
mark can’t keep in his smile as he tries not to laugh and give it away, but jaemin’s stern expression speaks volumes.
chenle shrugs before taking off his coat and making his way to the fridge, “ehh, was sort of obvious anyways.”
“what?” you exclaim, “how?”
his eyebrow raises as he takes a bite of the donut he had taken out its packet, “jaemin swearing off girls the same time as you breaking up with your ex, you constantly ditching our movie nights to ‘hang out with your cat,’ and jaemin suddenly changing from being an insufferable prick to actually being half nice.” jaemin lets out a laugh at the last comment. “i have more if you want me to continu-“
“thats okay, no thank you,” you speak up, “first of all, jaemin is still an insufferable prick.”
“thanks.” jaemin butts in.
“no problem.” you turn your head to him quickly before you continue, causing the others to laugh. “and secondly, i do actually go to hang out with my cat. i love her.” you say, offended.
“whatever.” chenle replies, a judging expression on his face.
they both took the news a lot better than you thought, so you decide to let them tell jisung, who is undoubtedly the most surprised at the revelation. but jaemin’s silence throughout the whole conversation annoys you. you don’t understand why he was being so quiet about it. but when you hear mark and jaemin whispering amongst themselves while you were meant to be in the shower, your confusion peaked.
“this isn’t like you, man.” it sounded like mark’s voice.
“i know.” jaemin replied.
that’s all you heard.
for the rest of the night, you all wrap yourselves in blankets on the sofa to watch some movie that jisung wanted to watch, the fireplace emitting a radial heat and deep hue of ember, softening you into a state of tiredness, drifting off as your head rests on the hard sofa next to you.
it’s only after you wake up that you realize it is certainly not the sofa that you were lying against, but instead, jaemin’s shoulder.
you hear the melodic birdsong as it fills the air outside, the white of snow lighting up the room. or is it chenle’s hideous singing in the shower that you hear? it’s hard to tell.
breaking yourself from jaemins sleeping grasp, you get up to look out the window. you’re meant to go home today, this is supposed to be your final morning of the trip.
but as you peek your vision out the window, around 3 feet of snow covers the floor all around the cabin, the four wheels of marks camper van not even visible.
“uhm, guys..” you call out, grabbing the attention of a freshly showered chenle, a mid breakfast-making mark, a book occupied jisung and a half asleep jaemin. they all stop their various activities at the urgency in your voice, coming over to you and looking out the window for themselves.
it takes each of them about 5 minutes to process what this means; your trip is going to be extended. you are trapped.
and you may be trapped but yours and jaemins secret is very much free.
it finally hits 3pm and you realise that you have all spent the entire day enveloped in boredom, watching as the snow falls and continues to form on the ground. there is no way all this snow will clear in just a few days.
you are lucky that chenle had brought nearly double the amount of food that you needed originally, meaning all you had to do now was to sit and wait it out.
lounging on the sofa, you listen to the smooth rhythm of chenles jazz vinyl playing on loop across the room. you’re bored, and you can’t even go outside. you can tell the others are bored too, that same expression of ‘i just want to go home now.’ plastered on all of their faces.
but their expressions quickly flip when a knock rattles from the front door.
you all look at each other in question before collectively jumping up in sync, running at inhuman speeds to the door. you were about to be saved, removed from the shackles of dullness and provided passage back home.
being the first to get to the door, you grab a hold of the handle, struggling in attempts to only slightly crack it open to keep the snow outside.
but when you open the door and poke your head through the crack, you’re met with a very familiar face.
hayun. also known as, jaemins long-time ‘secret’ infatuation: his crush.
your mind shatters in disbelief as you pull the door fully open to let the other guys see who it is, no longer caring about the snow as it comes piling in.
all because the look on jaemins face is priceless.
the others all look to him to see what he’s going to say, and unsurprisingly, all he has to say is ‘hi.’ you wouldn’t expect more from him, he’s never spoken a word that exceeds a greeting to her before.
following jaemins poor attempt at an introduction, you take over.
“what are you doing here? are you okay?” you ask, genuine concern for the girl lining your voice.
“well, i was here on a ski trip with my friends but, they all abandoned me.”
“what?” you ask.
“and i remembered seeing a few of your guys’ instagram posts saying you were here so… i thought i’d knock.”
“wow.” mark says, “your friends suck.”
“i know. so, any chance i can stay here? i would go home but the weather isn’t exactly drivable.”
you turn to the rest of your group, concluding the pity in their faces before turning back to hayun. “of course! we don’t have a spare room and the sofa gets cold at night but i have a double bed if you don’t mind sharing.”
“thank you so much!” she grins before stepping inside and pulling you in for a hug. you cringe as you come into contact with the cold casing of her coat, the ice cool against your skin as you try not to push her off of you.
in all honesty, you feel bad for her and you know that jaemin is about to get relentlessly bullied by the rest of the group. this was about to make your extended trip a whole lot more interesting.
it hasn’t been a long time since he developed a crush on hayun, spotting her across the other side of his lecture hall. he always gives you some excuse as to why he’s somehow never gotten a chance to speak to her, so you presume that he’s happy that he finally has. either that or completely terrified. either way, you’re happy for him.
yes, you are. you’re happy for him.
❆ ❆ ❆
a few hours pass as you show hayun around the cabin, making space for her things in your room. letting her unpack, you make your way to the front room, finding jaemin and mark on the sofa, seemingly midway through a conversation.
“oh, don’t let me stop you.” you say, urging them to continue their talk after they cease talking at your arrival.
mark turns back to jaemin. “i think you should go for it, dude, what harm could come out of it, huh?” he says.
you’re curious, “you’re gonna ask her out?” you say to jaemin.
he smirks, “maybe, maybe not.”
somehow, something in your heart doesn’t like the idea of jaemin asking out hayun. you’re not sure if it’s the idea of you and him ending this whole ‘friends with benefits’ situation, or the fact that you’re probably going to have to step back from being his best friend, because, let’s face it, there’s no way she would ever let you stay as close as you now are if they got together.
you slap the idea out of your head; he hasn’t even asked her out yet.
mark notices the internal battle you have with yourself. “something wrong with that, yn?”
if jaemin wasn’t here right now, blocking you from mark by sitting in between you, you one hundred percent would have punched him at that.
jaemin looks over to you, a questioning expression on his face.
“uh.. no…” you reply, apprehensive.
“oh come on, i saw the face you just made. you’re jealous that he’s gonna be fucking someone else, aren’t you?” mark continues.
you don’t know what to say, caught off guard by the truth in marks words and the cold presence of jaemins gaze on you.
“im not jel- “ you begin, but jaemin interrupts you.
“yn.” he says. it’s just your name but it holds so much meaning. “am i not allowed to have a girlfriend?”
“‘course you can.” you reply, shrugging.
mark raises his eyebrow at you and you seriously consider getting up and kicking him.
jaemin continues, “good. it's decided then. i'm gonna ask her out.”
mark pats him on the back, laughing, “good luck, dude.”
you smile in acknowledgement as jaemin thanks mark before chenle comes in, completely changing the subject when he starts complaining about hayun’s infiltration of his ‘well organised fridge.’
you zone out their conversation to reassure yourself that you truly don't care that jaemin was going to try to get close to hayun, but you can't help but feel like you're about to be replaced. you always knew it was going to happen, that one day jaemin would want to settle down with a girl. but you're just so used to his playboy personality that you just never expected it to be so soon.
amongst the endless drill of chatter, you feel a sudden glance in your direction, and as you look up, jaemins eyes suddenly divert away from you, as if he got caught looking. you want to ask him what he wants, but the silence in his demeanour tells you that you shouldn't. it's bittersweet; the end of his situation with you, marks the start of one with hayun. its a trade in which you don't want to be part of, but you fear you have no choice – only time can decide.
the rest of the day went by quickly. maybe it was because of your new addition to the vacation or simply because chenle found a cupboard full of dusty boardgames that you decided to occupy yourselves with. naturally, it was you and mark that beat everyone else at your very long, grueling game of monopoly, but that quickly flipped to jisung when you took your turns at scrabble.
the entire time, you and mark teased jaemin relentlessly, catching glimpses as he (unwilling) took his seat next to hayun, pushed there by chenle and jisung and ending up on her team. you could tell that he was getting annoyed at you both giggling at him, but you didn't care; it only made the entire thing so much more fun.
by the end of the night, it was time to sleep, so you and hayun took your rightful sides of the bed. it isn't the best sleeping situation, but you’d much rather sleep beside her than have to experience mark’s sweaty feet ever again. (that experience was not one that you want to remember.)
before you can switch the light off, though, you hear hayun sit up.
“wait, yn, before we sleep…” she says, and you look at her expectantly, “can i ask you something?”
“sure.” you reply.
she looks down, fiddling with her fingers. “Its jaemin. is he.. single?”
as if you hadn't heard her, you take a pause, processing her question.
“yeah.” you let a laugh slip, “why? you like him?”
at your question, she giggles and her voice makes you cringe a little.
“yes. a lot actually, it's sort of the reason why im here..”
you furrow your brow. “what do you mean?”
she takes a deep breath. “my friends never kicked me out.. i just saw that you guys were also here and, well, i thought it'd be a chance for me to get to know him.”
it's as if your ears are deceiving you, the late night tiredness of the conversation urging you to hallucinate. but it's all real, every last word of it.
“wait, so, you lied?.. to get us to let you stay?”
she nods, and you don't know if you should pity her or hate her guts.
because you know what it's like to be in love; you know what it's like to like someone so much to the point where you allow yourself to do stupid things. you understand.
but that doesnt mean that you like her for it.
“i know you probably think i'm a horrible person.” she says.
“no.. no, not at all.” you reply, and she smiles at your words.
“thanks yn.”
you laugh back, “so, jaemin huh?”
she looks back down at her fingers, “yeah.. embarrassing right?”
you smile, not just to her, but to yourself.
“totally.”
❆ ❆ ❆
all night, you debate with yourself over what hayun had told you. on one hand, you can't agree with what she did: lying like that. but her crush on him means that jaemin would be happy, and as his best friend, you can't take that away from him. therefore, amongst your deep pool of thought, her confession swimming in the depths of your mind, you decide that the best thing for you to do, is to hold off telling him that she lied; not only would it ruin their chances of getting together, but therefore, jaemin would only be upset that he never got the chance.
but just because you can't tell jaemin, doesn't mean you can't tell mark.
“i really don't know what to think about her.” you say, standing in the kitchen over three pans of eggs. mark had asked you to have the task of cooking them, resorting to focus on the rest of the group's breakfast. you know it's because he can't cook eggs to save his life, but he'll never admit that.
“honestly,” he replies, “who cares if she likes jaemin? she’s a sneaky little liar.”
you laugh, “i don't know, mark. maybe she's just really in love with him.”
“i’m not so sure about that. how could anyone ever be in love with someone who wears a hoodie saying ‘orgasm donor’ in public.”
you roll your eyes and mark continues, “well, i guess we all know who he's donating to now..”
you slap him around the arm, causing him to cackle at your rash response.
“anyways,’ he continues, “i wont tell jaemin about it if you don't want me to.”
you nod, “thanks, mark. oh, and you're burning the bacon by the way.”
“oh shit.”
❆ ❆ ❆
deciding that the weather still wasnt good enough to attempt to make the journey home, you all decided to stay another day. although the day was full of indiscriminate party games and full fledged boredom, you somehow managed to make it through to nightfall.
you’re nearly drifting off to sleep when you hear a tap at the door of your’s and hayun’s room. turning over to see hayun fast asleep, you get up to see who’s there, wondering what idiot buffoon decided to wake you up at 4 o’clock in the morning.
by means of absolutely no surprise, it’s a disheveled jaemin, hair sticking up in about seven different directions and a crumpled tshirt that rises ever so slightly above his pyjama pants waistline, exposing skin that you do not have the energy to be fawning over. although, that’s exactly what you’re doing.
assuming that he’s here to finally break the news to hayun in some twisted, sensual late night confession, you turn your back to jaemin to call her name. in noticing what you’re about to do, jaemin reaches an arm around your waist, pulling you close enough to him that the palm of his other hand can cover your mouth.
“will you shut up?” you don't need to see his face to know he's rolling his eyes, “this isn't exactly something i want her to see.”
oh.
he lets go of you, spinning you round to face him by your shoulders. he’s done this before: knocking on your door in the dead of night when he needs you. but you never expected him to do it here. not after your conversation with mark a few days ago, and certainly not whilst his crush was staying in your room. it all seems so bizarre.
but you weren't going to say no.
❆ ❆ ❆
the next morning, you realise that you had completely and utterly fucked up.
the warmth of jaemin next to you remains, his arm slung lazily over the front of your stomach. you expect to open your eyes to jaemins ceiling back at home, but to much avail, you are very much still on vacation.
and you had four pairs of eyes staring down on you both to prove that.
you jump out of jaemin’s hold immediately, causing him to slowly stir before mumbling something incoherent into the sheets. when he finally realises the situation you’re in, he takes the pillow beside his head, pushing it into his face.
“you promised you wouldn't do it here, man.” mark starts. but your focus isn't on him, it's on hayun.
and she's livid.
you turn the attention of your words to her. “im sorry. i should have told you.”
jaemin finally gets up, picking up his discarded shirt off the ground and pulling it over his head before sitting back on the end of the bed.
hayun eyes him for any form of an apologetic sense, but he gives off nothing, and you fear this only makes her angrier.
your fear is proven correct when she suddenly snaps at you, “you knew i liked him and you still went and did this behind my back?”
at her words, the mood in the room suddenly shifts. what was an atmosphere of laughter and mischief at them catching you and jaemin together, is now suddenly a room of tension, a room that you no longer want to be in.
but it's jaemins reaction that formulates the world's most unfortunate predicament.
his head turns to you, a look of disappointment and what seems to be hurt, plastered on his face. “she likes me? and you hid it from me?”
you don't know what else to say, so you just tell him the truth. “yes, but it's not that simpl-”
“i don't care, yn.” he gets up, pushing past chenle to the bathroom before shutting the door behind him.
fuck. you’ve messed up.
but one thing is nagging at you: jaemin seems to care far more about the fact that you hid the truth from him than what the truth actually entailed. you tell yourself he’s probably just embarrassed. either that or just completely and utterly in denial about it. either way, he’s acting strange; he should be happy, not angry.
the entire day, jaemin didn’t utter a single word to you. as for hayun, she had been hidden away in your room, not speaking to a single person and avoiding any opportunity to accidentally bump into you. you did feel bad, you should have told her about it the second that she confessed her feelings for jaemin to you. but you had assumed from jaemin’s previous conversation with you, that you were calling it off, jaemin seeming pretty aware about the fact that she was now here. how were you supposed to predict him rocking up to your room at 4am?
anyhow, you spent the day with mark, discussing the ending of titanic and eating way too much chocolate to be healthy. when night came once more, you decided that it probably wasn't the best idea to go back to your room, scared about facing the wrath of the girl who resided in it. instead, after washing up in the bathroom, you make your way to the sofa in the front room.
your actions are halted when you hear voices coming from the other side of jaemin’s door. you know you shouldn't eavesdrop on a private conversation, but you can’t help yourself.
you register the second voice as mark as you get close enough to hear them clearer, just enough until you can hear what they're saying.
your heart hurts in your chest when you do.
“i'm still going to ask her out, even with things the way they are.” you hear jaemin whisper.
it's like a sudden shot to the chest. this is exactly what you feared from the very beginning, this is exactly what you trusted jaemin enough not to do.
he’s choosing her over his best friend; he’s choosing her over you.
trying to remain as quiet as possible, you continue your journey to the sofa, pain causing you to wince with every footstep – he's leaving you behind.
as you lie on the sofa, the chill air of the cabin surrounding you despite the presence of the fireplace, forcing you to wrap the blanket around you tighter, you struggle to bring yourself to sleep. but when you hear footsteps from the kitchen, you peek your head over the back of the sofa to see who’s there.
at your movement, the culprit looks up from their snack-making and their eyes meet yours.
“jaemin?” you whisper, “why are you awake?”
“hungry.” he turns back, working on spreading the peanut butter onto his bagel. “what are you doing sleeping out here? it's way too cold.”
you stand up, making your way to the kitchen to stand behind him, blanket wrapped around your shoulders as you shiver from the frost. “i don’t think hayun likes me right now.” you say.
jaemin turns to face you, biting into his bagel. “i wonder why.” he says sarcastically, mouth half-full. you hate to admit it, but he looks incredibly alluring, he always does in the middle of the night.
you hate the fact that he’s acting this way with you, dismissive and persistent, but he has every right, you hid so much from him, and you hurt him in the process.
you’re at war with yourself, but in all honesty you know that you were in the wrong; for your friendship to work, you need to tell him everything. everything.
“actually,” you start, taking a deep breath, “there’s something you don't know.”
jaemin’s interest in the conversation suddenly spikes, looking for you to continue.
“hayun… she.. wasn’t actually abandoned by her friends.”
“what?”
“the night she told me she liked you, she also told me that she ditched her friends because she saw that we were here. she lied about them kicking her out so that we would feel bad and let her stay, so that then she could finally get her chance to talk to you.” you pause, attempting to read jaemin’s face but failing, getting nothing from his expression. “i should have told you, but i didn't want you to get hurt. instead… i did exactly that. i'm sorry, jaemin, really.”
when you finish speaking, you notice as jaemin’s lips slightly curl into a smile before dropping back to his cold demeanor, and it makes you question whether you really saw it or if it was just your mind playing tricks on you.
“yn..” he trails off, whatever he wants to say interrupted by your sudden panic in not wanting to embarrassing yourself.
you ramble, scared that he won't accept your apology. “but like you said to mark earlier, if you still want to ask her out, that's fin-”
“wait, what?” jaemin says, moving from his position leaning against the counter to stand upright.
“i, um, heard you and mark talking earlier about how you were still going to ask her out despite everything..” you say.
jaemin laughs to himself and you grow confused. “oh, yn.” he says.
“what? what’s so funny?”
“you never did get my hints, did you.”
your heart freezes in your throat, the cold weather no longer chilling you but instead the bitter taste of jaemin’s words as they formulate in your brain.
he continues, noticing your confusion. “it was never her that i had a crush on. it was never her that i was planning to ask out.”
you’re struggling to breath, each intake of oxygen getting caught in your chest.
“yeah, i thought she was kinda pretty when i first saw her across my lecture a few months ago, but that was long before i fell for who i really wanted.” he smiles, inching closer to you. “and after everyone found out that i was sleeping with you, i decided that there was no longer an excuse for me to hide my feelings.” he takes a hold of your hand, looking down at it as he plays with your fingers. “i was starting to get pretty pissed that you wouldn’t pick up any of my hints, you know? you can’t even imagined how embarrassed i was to find out that it was because you were trying to play cupid for me and someone else.”
your mind is vacant, filled with the epiphany of his words as they resonate in your head, playing a tune of melancholic rhythm as it twists into an allegro.
“but… the rule.” you say.
jaemin chuckles, “i think we stopped caring about those rules a while ago, yn. i know i did. ”
you’re no longer cold, jaemins warmth radiating against you like the blissful aura of a flame, attracting you and drawing you closer.
it was then that you realised that you haven't said anything to equate his long speech, but words can do nothing to describe the way that you’re feeling. its as if someone had approached you with a mirror, brutally displaying each of your own hidden thoughts and projecting them back at you. because every single word that jaemin muttered, you found deep within yourself. it all clicks, perfectly and irrevocably, into place. your jealousy, your embarrassment, your stupidity.
your love.
instead of attempting to sum up all of your feelings into words, you do the one thing that will live up to the emotions that reside within you. taking not a single moment to prepare yourself, you lean closer to him, his eyes finding your lips. you nod, its small but the gesture means so much. it's an agreement, a sealing of mutual understanding. it's slow and it's incredibly gentle as his lips greet yours, soft in a way unlike ever before. kisses between you and jaemin were always the result of lust, of stupidity. but now, it's the result of something far greater.
it’s love.
❆ ❆ ❆
when the sun rises above the horizon, you leap from jaemin’s bed, him giggling at your eagerness.
“oh my god, it's finally clear!!” you yell, waking up each of the boys with your burst of excitement. you could finally go home.
the morning consisted of three major revelations. one: you all contacting hayun’s friends, watching as they dragged her into their car to drive her home. two: discovering that chenle had only showered once throughout the entire holiday (you all started placing bids as to who gets to not sit next to him on the journey back.) and three: witnessing the boys’ reactions to your’s and jaemins new secret.
“i knew you’d do it, dude.” mark said, attempting to fist bump jaemin in the most cringe-worthy interaction you’ve ever seen in your life. jisung and chenle however, were completely baffled, and it took about thirty minutes of explaining for them to understand that it was you that jaemin had a crush on, and not hayun. you’re still convinced that jisung doesn't understand.
once you had all packed your things, you grabbed your suitcases, standing in the porch as chenle locked the front door for the final time.
“im going to miss this place.” mark says, exaggerating an act of sadness as he clutches his chest.
“im not,” chenle replies, “i’ve never been so bored in my entire fucking life.”
“it’s been fun.” you say, smiling.
jaemin’s voice comes from next to you. “eh, could have been better.”
you turn to him in offence.
he continues, “i'm just saying, i never got to actually snowboard.”
“are you suggesting what i think you’re suggesting…?” mark replies, looking around the group and meeting similar grins and looks of hopefulness.
jaemin shrugs, “i dont know, am i?”
as if on cue, you all drop your suitcases in the snow, laughter and coils of happiness springing between you as you run to the shed behind the cabin for one last time.
no other winter ski trip ever got near to living up to that one.
not even close.
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honestly at this point all we can do is hope and pray that nature takes its course twice over
#My political beliefs are basically “I want as few people to die as possible”#But both of them will get thousands of people killed if they become president#So it’s actually not that bad for me to say this#Nor does it go against my beliefs (as little death as possible)#us politics#2024 presidential election#presidential debate#joe biden#donald trump
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this is just my opinion but i think any good media needs obsession behind it. it needs passion, the kind of passion that's no longer "gentle scented candle" and is now "oh shit the house caught on fire". it needs a creator that's biting the floorboards and gnawing the story off their skin. creators are supposed to be wild animals. they are supposed to want to tell a story with the ferocity of eating a good stone fruit while standing over the sink. the same protective, strange instinct as being 7 and making mud potions in pink teacups: you gotta get weird with it.
good media needs unhinged, googling-at-midnight kind of energy. it needs "what kind of seams are invented on this planet" energy and "im just gonna trust the audience to roll with me about this" energy. it needs one person (at least) screaming into the void with so much drive and energy that it forces the story to be real.
sometimes people are baffled when fanfic has some stunning jaw-dropping tattoo-it-on-you lines. and i'm like - well, i don't go here, but that makes sense to me. of fucking course people who have this amount of passion are going to create something good. they moved from a place of genuine love and enjoyment.
so yeah, duh! saturday cartoons have banger lines. random street art is sometimes the most precious heart-wrenching shit you've ever seen. someone singing on tiktok ends up creating your next favorite song. youtubers are giving us 5 hours of carefully researched content. all of this is the impossible equation to latestage capitalism. like, you can't force something to be good. AI cannot make it good. no amount of focus-group testing or market research. what makes a story worth listening to is that someone cares so much about telling it - through dance, art, music, whatever it takes - that they are just a little unhinged about it.
one time my friend told me he stayed up all night researching how many ways there are to peel an orange. he wrote me a poem that made me cry on public transportation. the love came through it like pith, you know? the words all came apart in my hands. it tasted like breakfast.
#warm up#writeblr#actually this is because again i don't go here#i don't read/write fanfic but i have nothing but respect for my troops#but i also have never played minecraft. im sorry. please ask me any question about pokemon tho i love that shit#anyway#out of some banal and thoughtless curiosity i watched the minecraft movie trailer#and again i know nothing about minecraft. i am aware im in an endangered population#but im watching this going: this is so fucking.... BAD#there is NO LOVE in it!#like if someone who has NO history in minecraft watches that and is like - ohhh this is soulless#WHO IS THE AUDIENCE????#ppl who love minecraft are gonna hate it!!!#at some point it's the ''mean girls musical movie'' problem --#some people will always hate the premise of what you're doing and some people will love it#make it for the ppl who love it#and usually that somewhat convinces the haters to like. chill enough to TRY it . bc it IS good#but when you try to make it for the haters..... nobody likes it. it doesn't have passion. energy. footwork#which is a small way of saying a big thing: if you love something. fucking make it and assume someone will love it too.#i love u . be brave . be bold. be in boston and come to my reading#where i wrote a really weird fucked up little book.#love u love u love u etc
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THIS!!! Im like HUGELY picky about texture. Im like, decently sure that if my parents had a neurotypical child prior to having me, instead of me being The Blueprint, I would have wound up with an ASD diagnosis.
but
There was no such blueprint. so when I Threw A Fit over fabric textures, my parents just decided it was easier to just yknow, not buy me scratchy clothes. Boom! problem solved! I didnt even realize this wasnt normal until high school. HIGH SCHOOL. Seriously, even growing up, every time I genuinely had an issue, I learned that if I could explain the actual problem, I could get help with the problem! or at the very least, sympathy that yes the problem sucks but unfortunately sometimes we must do things that suck. I seriously think that if more parents took kids seriously, atleast in matters of taste, and then, crucially, didnt try to cause problems where problems didnt need to be, that SO MANY KIDS would have a better time.
I always blamed this on having engineers for parents. People say engineers have bad social skills, but sometimes, they have unparalleled ability to help kids learn to deal. Because when life is 'us vs the problem', not 'parent vs kid', the world gets so much more open.
Because this is tumblr and reading comprehension is dead here im also going to say this doesnt mean that I was some mythical angel child who never misbehaved. It just meant that my parents could spend their energy addressing when I was ACTUALLY misbehaving instead of creating pointless problems that benefited literally no one.
last time my mom visited I was talking to her about parenting and how I appreciated a lot of the choices she and my father had made about raising me and my brother and she agreed that just listening to the child and taking them seriously was the One Weird Trick to cutting out like 60% of conflicts between parents and children. and she said one time I was about three or four years old and we were all going to the grocery store, and at the threshold of the store I just had a meltdown. i was overwhelmed, I was crying, I was just at the end of my rope like kids get sometimes. and instead of dragging me through the store my mom and dad stopped what we were doing and just asked me what the problem was. and I was able to say I didn't want to be there, I couldn't do it, I wanted to go home. and she says she and my father just looked at each other and back at me and said "okay" and we all went home that day instead of forcing the grocery store trip. and I had so few public meltdowns as a kid despite being pretty autistic because, I think, I knew that if I ever really needed to leave, my parents would understand and back me up. and that was the case throughout my childhood. which paradoxically (one might think) resulted in me having fewer incidents of being overwhelmed in the first place, which then made me better able to handle increasing amounts of stress and so on. it also taught me that expressing feelings and communicating them to my caretakers wasn't going to be punished or ignored or called weird, so unlike many other autistic kids who get judged or rebuked for expressing sensitivity or opposition, I didn't need to constantly blockade everyone and internalize everything all the time.
it's a pretty simple concept whether your kids are autistic or not, but most parents don't seem to get it. their parents taught them to just force everything and let the child deal with it alone so they just repeat the cycle even though they know how it feels.
#parenting#sensory issues#seriously wtf is even the point of making kids wear/do something uncomfortable when there is a perfectly comfy option#Children are actually alive#They are capable of having ideas and opinions#Treat them like mini people who know what they like and life will be so much more fun.#you wouldnt think its rude for an adult to say 'that dress is itchy i think id rather wear this other one'
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