#Sorry to disappoint but I don’t actually freckle that much

[whotookmysenbon]

Can I just gaze at your face, counting each and every freckle while feeding you dango? Maybe some head scratches. Is that alright with you?

Hmmm…. Counter offer, you take me on a regular dango date and then we head to my place for tea? 10:30 tomorrow morning at that little shop on the corner of the marketplace, I’ll be waiting~ ;)

[chokchokk]

𝐧𝐨 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐞 [𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐬] | choi san x fem!reader

PART ONE of : have your way with words, be my people pleaser 

“San, what else do I have to do? Draw it out? Do I have to beg?”

𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒�� : You’ve always been able to read him like a book, but for some reason you still fold for San.

"You've never begged."

𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎 : fluff, smut

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 : 6.9k

𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 : teasing, painful attempts at flirting and joking, vaginal fingering, no usage of y/n (forgive me), vaginal sex, pet-names

𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚜 : considered for revision

𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎 : this was like the first choi san smut i've ever written and i was trying to find my tone and omg i actually don't want to re-read it it's probably SO CRINGY omfg. i'm sorry for any icky moments i did not know any better 2 months ago LMAO this is also the only part that's pure "fluff" just fyi because i hadn’t planned this to be a series yet !!!!

He’s biting his lip, rolling his head to the back, trying his very best to stay focused on the paper he’s working on, all while you look at him in awe from the other side of the table. His glasses have slid dangerously close to his nose tip and the hair clip you’ve put into his hair to hold it together has lost all of its strength already — you really have to pull yourself together to not carefully slide one of the locks away from his eyes. 

Yes, San is a complete mess, and undoubtedly failing at hiding it. He probably doesn’t want to ruin the late library ambience, being the thoughtful Sannie he is, or at least not destroy the study sessions by not focusing on work, but the infuriated tapping with his pen against the wooden table isn’t covering any of his angry grunts. 

But even if you’ve noticed his desperation an eternity ago and have been deeply distracted by it ever since, you can’t bare to tell him that you’ve already given up. You guys have promised each other at least one is going to get this session done, so San be it, you tell yourself. If you have counted correctly, there are just ten minutes left on the clock, he should be able to do that, no matter how stressed he is.

And usually, you’re optimistic he’s able to do it, but you’ve never seen San’s eyes darken like this before. On normal days, he’s all smiley and giggly, squeaking words of helplessness at tasks that overwhelm him, covering up his frustration very well. Of course you can still look through his façade and say things like “San, let’s take a break” or similar things, but that’s only when he’s smiling still. 

Maybe it’s because you’re both studying for finals that there’s a lot of competitiveness or ego involved. Anyhow, you don’t want to get yourself involved in that, no, don’t want to resolve it at all, actually.

Let’s say it like this; San is scaring you, yes, but he is also being incredibly hot and  turning you on so much without knowing it. You can’t help but watch his dissatisfaction being gulped down his freckled, thick neck, and observe his Adam’s apple moving up and down. You draw a trail along his jawline and the loose black T-shirt he’s wearing with your eyes, following his neckline until the rhythm of his heavy breathing is revealed by his moving breast. 

San knows a lot, yes, but what he doesn’t is that he’s a walking sex symbol with his broad shoulders, narrow waist and intimidatingly friendly face. He’s biting his lips with just no idea what his looks are doing to your privates this exact moment and his soft voice is not helping.

He’s at his last task now and you catch yourself be a bit disappointed, when he takes his hand to balance his head and covers his face with it. You could feel guilty now for not interrupting or lending him a helping hand, but being attracted to your designated study buddy for the longest time with a painful amount of allusions to it is way more straining you on an emotional level than the stalker-behaviour you’re showing. How San hasn’t caught up is baffling to you, and the amount of times you’ve tried to make a move only for him to be oblivious is painful. (Let it be known you were never forced to answer Seonghwa’s question of “would you fuck San?” with the honesty that you did, but his little sheepish smile after your nod is enough to confirm that he should know, but just doesn’t. Sure, it’s unclear until this day if he even understood the question or the answer correctly, but it just feels like you have done most of your part.)

“I’m almost done,” San murmurs— breaking the silence between you two in the library— his voice comparing to nothing more but a sigh. He’s tensed up, eyebrows furrowed, and he’s scrunching his nose a little bit to sniff his agitation away.

“Take your time,” you try to say as nicely as possible, attempting to calm him down. It does help, it seems, because San is straightening his back to take a deep breather, his eyes finally wavering away from the paper. You smile at him and get a head nod in return.

Sharing this short moment of just acknowledging each other’s presence, you confirm that San, regardless of how socially (sexually?) stupid he can be, is an intelligent guy after all, not to be shaken up by this little bit of studying. Straight A’s, perfect GPA, teacher’s favourite — you’re lucky professor Kang has put you in so many group assignments together, or else you would have never been able to meet with San like this on a Friday evening, studying for your finals.

“I feel like I ran run five miles or have to commit arson,” San jokes half-heartedly in a breath and you giggle, looking around to not disturb the other students with your laughter. “What’s stopping you?”, you ask playfully, raising an eyebrow.

“I don’t know,” San answers and touches the backside of his head with both of his hands. “What’s stopping you, hm?”

You frown, the once raised eyebrow coming right back down, your amusement wearing down.

“What’s supposed to be stopping me?”

San pouts innocently and fetches the clip from his hair, black bangs falling to his face, but he doesn’t set his glasses, making him look at you with squinted eyes. They look even heavier now, eyelids covering most of his irises when he leans forwards to you: “You haven’t touched a single task since an hour now, why didn’t you tell me you were done?”

You don’t know why you pant in panic— it’s an understandable question, San probably noticed you stared at the man during the whole time he was the only one committed to the studying— and you’re afraid there’s this tension again, but not driven to the paper, but you.

“You, lemme think, looked too..”

You know your sentence can’t be finished in any way that would be positive. You would’ve liked to end it with “concentrated” or “in the zone” to give him credibility for his hard work, but San has been way too obvious struggling to hold on, and you’re not a good liar.

“… Handsome.”

It’s not a Freudian slip, if it’s on purpose, yes.

“You looked to good to be true, San. If you weren’t wearing the baggiest shirt from three days ago, you’d coin dark-academia realness.”

You always make jokes like these, it’s your expertise. They usually make San enormously embarrassed, which is the best part of it all: He, who was growling his frustration away, is now giggling, expression softening, as he scrunches his face together with a wide smile. The high-pitched noise awakens your motherly instincts— it’s these moments you could just melt away in adoration.

“You’re lucky you’re not a professor, because that look you gave that paper right there isn’t going to help anybody concentrate on their studies. People-pleaser? Teacher's pet? I wish."

“Ugh!”, San moans quietly, his dimples revealing that he’s deeply touched. He will never get used to your overly specific (and usually sexually connotated) compliments, but it’s better that way. San cracks his fingers to recover, but then covers his mouth to hide his blushing smile once more. Take that for two people-pleasing and validation-seeking students, one more focused on studies, one more trying to fuck than the other. He barely goes to parties, which robs you of the little chances of opportunities to make a move on him.

“Okay, I won’t lie to you, I was done long before you, but someone’s gotta be valedictorian this year.”

“Really nice of you”, San sighs— he’s gathered himself now and has put on his friendly smile again, “But I’m really done now as well.”

“How done?”

“To go home-done.”

“My home, I assume.”

“Of course.”

With his finishing sentence, you hold a staring-match again, which you lose, as San takes his pile of paper and stacks it vertically to organise his stuff. 

From here, the procedure should be simple. He drives you to your place (safe), maybe he’ll eat a midnight-snack with you (very likely), and maybe watch a movie (unlikely today) to then leave, if he doesn’t fall asleep during that. You already have the night schedule written out in front of you, and all you’re left is whether you’ll convince San for another study session tomorrow.

But then, in the car, San grabs the steering wheel but doesn’t start to drive.

You think he must be too tired and decide not to ask him. Honestly, you feel quite dizzy as well, but mostly because San has opened his mouth half-way now, audibly breathing in and out — it sounds like he’s panting. His tongue has also runned along his upper lip, making it glisten reddish pink under the parking lot-lighting. It’s unbearably arousing you. “Give me just a second,” he murmurs.

“Does your head hurt? We can just walk, you know,” you suggest, but San shakes his head: “No, that’d be inefficient and really dumb.”

“You’re the one dozing off, San, not me!”, you scoff and turn yourself around to face him, elbow placed on the radio. San opens one eye — it looks like he’s winking, his tongue pressed against this upper teeth. “And you’re being quite sassy, aren’t you?”, he grins and you swear you’ve never wanted to not shut up more in your entire life.

“If being sassy is what keeps you awake, I don’t see anything wrong with it, San,” you fight back, even more playfully this time, lips pouted to emphasise your mocking tone. There is a clear, lustful intention you’re trying to project, and secretly, you hope San notices it, but there isn’t any indication he isn’t already, which you find strange.

“Oh, you think I must be real tired, huh?”

San begins to grin and all of the sudden, things are happening very fast: His hands aren’t placed on the steering wheel anymore, one of them has moved to your chin, holding (and keeping) it up, after you try to back away out of reflex, the other is placed dangerously near to your hip — he’s propping himself against the seat, you can feel him breathe against your nose tip. His whispers expand like flames on your face. What has ignited this man? 

“San?”, you ask carefully, every bit of playful confidence inside you crumbling down to your guts. It’s not like you aren’t enjoying this still, in fact, you feel like you’re going to go savage and clash your face against his any second, but San’s finger is pressing so delicately, yet so firmly into your skin, it’s messing up your projected image of the cute little — unfortunately sexy — nerd in your head. You don’t want to admit you’re intimidated, but San has been extra scary since he said he wanted to light buildings on fire. At the same time, you’ve been waiting days, no, weeks for this and a tingle between your legs signals you that you’ve been prepared ever since. 

“Can’t go home yet, can we?”

His eyes are still dark, when you look at them through his glasses and there’s a bit of shine left on his lips, when you glance at them longingly. San’s breath is shaky, and you’re not sure whether yours is as well. You’re too focused on imagining the next scene. San has finally reached his burning point, it appears, and you’re too stunned to react verbally to his question. Are you seriously going to do it in the car, in the library parking lot?

“Buckle up.”

It is only now that you notice you haven’t put your seat-belt on. The sound of the plug clocking in takes you out of your reverie. 

“San, screw you. Oh my god, screw you so much.”

He laughs a dirty laugh, even more so devilishly, when he returns to his seat and immediately begins to drive out of the parking spot. Has he been acting? Fuck this. Hastily, you have to get into your original position and buckle yourself up as he has told you. This bitch, you think to yourself and stare holes into the car window, this motherfucking bitch.

“Just a little revenge for making me work alone because you wanted to make me valedictorian? Or what, because I’m— what was it? Too handsome?” His voice has turned softer immediately, teasing you with a sweet undertone.

“Okay, we’re even now!”, you laugh sarcastically, trying to not become sulky. You’ve subconsciously crossed your legs and arms already, and your whole body is turned away from the driver’s seat.

“Sure,” San answers and you can hear him press some buttons. “Music?”

You throw him a side-eye and take the AUX. 

“I could violate your ears so good right now,” you snap and search for a fitting playlist for this frightening night.

“You could try.”

When has San become a bully? How has it come to this? San is playing with you, more obviously than ever before — toying with you in the game you started. 

But let it be known you could never be offended by this man.

Because when you play the first song that came to your mind— it’s «Sexbomb» by none other than Tom Jones — it becomes clear that you are more than happy to be his gaming companion, levelling up the tension to the max, though it's not a sensual song per se.

It’s petty, but provocative at the same time. You’ve never gotten what you wanted, have never expected to get it, and the surreality of the scenery just a few seconds ago is enough to keep you stimulated for the whole drive, ignoring San’s big grin on his face, as he safely gets you home.

And of course San joins in for the midnight meal. Without having spoken a word for a quarter hour now, you open the fridge and cram out anything eatable. You should’ve went grocery shopping, there’s barely anything left. 

“Not so prepared, I see?”

“San, if you say one more word, I will—“, you shut the door of the fridge, revealing a San who’s leaned against the wall, crossing his arms, head thrown to the back to squint at you.

“You’ll what?”

He’s the worst and heaven knows he should know that as well. Every attempt to overthrow him fails, because nothing seems to break this man — you can’t animate this man for you own good, even when he’s try-harding to look cool. 

“You’re being a bitch today and I hate it.” Biting your lip, you rethink your sentence and shake your head, eyes not swaying away from the black-haired man. “Actually, scrap that, I hate that I like it way too much,” you hiss, ridiculing yourself and taking of your sweatshirt, leaving you in a sheer top. It’s warm, you’re hot, this situation be very easy to understand. 

He doesn’t know what to do. Or maybe he does, and he’s just being a pain in the ass again: both could be absolutely true, when he moves his head and musters you from bottom to the top, a huff leaving his nose. It seems as if he’s mocking and checking you out at the same time, licking his lips and biting his tongue. 

“San, what else do I have to do? Draw it out? Do I have to beg?”

You whine and you’re not one bit embarrassed about it, though San doesn’t even take it in the desperate way you clearly are.

“You’ve never begged.”

San is scratching his neck, acting like an innocent brat, much to your obvious disapproval.

“Come on, you can’t be that dumb, San, can you?”

“How would I be?”

“San, what the fuck does that mean?”

“It’s simple,” and San is pushing himself from the wall now, taking heavy steps towards you, “I can’t give you an answer to a question you’ve never asked.”

“I,” you begin to think of your next line argument, but noticing how he’s pulling his eyebrows together to throw you an almost belittling look through his lowered glasses, you give up, baffled about the reality. Replacing the next words, you pant.

“I’ll give you an answer, alright?”, San encourages you, taking one last big step. He’s standing in front of you now, in your little kitchen, next to the counter, looking down at you, free and available as he can be. 

“Whatever it is; yes,” he whispers, accepting something you’ve never offered him directly.

Of course San isn’t dumb. How could he have been, when you’ve been so obvious? There’s a shameful heat driving up your stomach and you bite your lip.

“Baby, I’m all yours.”

You could have kept teasing him for the way he was obviously lowering his voice to sound more authoritative or sexy or something , but no, it’s just too much. Being cornered by San, hearing him surrender to you with his words, but still in a way that made him dominant over you — that is just way too much. 

Seriously, all yours?  Where did he get that one from? Wattpad?

“Fuck right off, San.”

It feels like your brain splits in half, your conscience leaving the second you throw yourself at San, hands grabbing every piece of hair you can get to pull him down to your face, whispering insults into his mouth, as your heads meet. He just grins and licks over your teeth, tongue slicking against yours.

“Happily,” he murmurs into the kiss, his hands grabbing you by your hip and waist, pulling you towards his muscular body. He must think he’s being so funny and yes you would have loved to argue with him, but you’re weak in his grip, ruffled by the pure tension that has been brewing all those days. There’s wet noises and sucking to be heard and it’s all sending urgent signals to your privates. You will, no must fuck him, and you're going to fuck him better than whatever he’s expecting from you, just to blow his mind.

You let his hair go and tug at the seam of his shirt, prompting him to raise his arms and have his clothing be slid off his body. Eagerly, you come back to his lips while throwing the shirt to the side and take steps forwards, leading San to your bedroom. Entrusting you with the guidance, he walks backwards and falls onto the bed, breaking the kiss. With a grunt, San props himself with his elbow, but before he can tower over you, you reach your arm over his shoulder, grabbing the bed frame, trying your best to keep his broad silhouette under your eyes.

Your lips already feel numb and you swear you can feel something pulsating inside your pants, when you slowly slide onto his lap and let the warm fabric touch. After a bit of movement, you and San are both shuddering and whimpering, lips meeting again in the snake-like maneuvering. He’s becoming harder with every little suck at his tongue, twitching even, and in addition, you’re becoming too impatient as well to edge yourself like this. 

Your hands move to the zipper of his baggy jeans, and San is trying to take this as a sign he’s allowed to take off his pants, but you give his palm a little slap. He smirks and returns his hand to take a pillow, stuffing it behind his neck. You wanted to take control, but he’s way too comfortable with it, it’s annoying you, yet at the same time, you wouldn’t even know what to tell him at this point.

Opening the zipper and sliding a hand in, you trail the outer side of San’s shaft through his boxer-shorts with your finger to identify with what kind of girth and length you’re working with and comment “bigger than I expected”, as if you have imagined it before, which would be the truth, yes, but not smaller than the absolute unit he is possessing.

“Ah, really?”, San gutters, voice shaking with each little touch of yours, but never letting his guard down completely. You anchor his boxer-shorts and tug it down just until the point when his shaft jumps out. He gulps and opens his mouth to pant again, when you spit into your hand and palm his shaft to give it a nice stroke from the very bottom to the top, admiring the shine of it. You pump his penis, feeling the skin inside your hand slide with every movement, and make it grow to its final length that way. It’s fascinating, really, but you’re too busy to contemplate about reality. You take the initiative and get a taste of the wet mixture that is your own saliva and his pre-cum. You pump the part you can’t reach with your throat and in no time, San’s eyes are rolling to the back.

“That’s good,” he comments, going through your hair, which motivates you to go even deeper. Hitting the back of your throat, his girth makes you tear up, but you sit through it, since San is tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, caressing your head softly. You try your best to suck and slide your tongue over his tip, to which he immediately reacts. “Hmnh~”, he hums and you bathe in his pleasure-lorn breaths, until you kind of get a hunch of what he likes the best and continue to drive him this way. “That’s good… Hnnh- heek!”

Was that a weep? You thought the whines were high enough, but San is definitely hiding his high moans, trying to cough them out. You continue to bop your head and watch his aroused expressions with amusement; his eyebrows are pushed together to form a needy frown, teeth biting down on his lower lip, inflicting pain on himself. From what it looks like, he’s pretty close, his hand weakly lying on top of your head, hesitating to push you back, once you remove it. 

“Don’t cum yet!”, you demand, and San sighs helplessly.

“You’re edging me?”, he manages to choke out with a smirk, and San wipes away your tears from your cheeks. “As if I couldn’t get hard immediately after from just looking at you!”

You scoff, his directness has caught you a little bit of guard. You’re still trying to return to normal breathing after quite literally having been choked by his dick, not be attacked by his sudden strike of confidence.

“Can I undress you?”, he asks and you nod, all the hair he’s put away falling back in front of your face.

Once your shirt and bra is off with quick seconds of his hands at your back, San is taking his view all in, his plump lips parted and never to be closed again. Before you can wipe the grin from his face, he storms at your dekolleté, swinging his arms around you. His sucks are tugging at your nipples, after he pushes himself forward, one arm fully around your back, the other finding his way to your other breast to massage it. Moan after moan leaves your mouth and your head becomes heavy, falling to the back: his hand effortlessly catches it, finding safety in your hair. As you scratch his neck, grabbing it to pull him closer to your upper body, you repeatedly pant his name.

“Hm? What?”, he reacts, circling your skin with his tongue.

It’s so erotic, you think you’re going to cum untouched, pants on and all. San is leaving kisses everywhere on your torso, some wetter than the others. He is leaving a trace of saliva on your neck with his tongue, gliding against your chin with it, ultimately meeting your lips once again. It’s filthy, but just so, so erotic.

He’s still holding your breast in his hand, stimulating your nipples while filling your mouth with a mixture of spit and rhetoric (and very provocative) questions. 

“Feels good?”, San asks with a raspy voice, his nose scrunched amusedly, when he sees how messed up you are. Strands of hair are sticking on the wet spots of your skin, drops of sweat are dripping down to your collarbones. You’re already so disheveled. “Want me to continue?”

“Yes, pl—,” You can’t find the words, as they get lost somewhere in San’s mouth, once you give him confirmation. His tongue is exploring the inner space of your mouth, and his hand has become busy with taking off your pants. You kneel, making space to let your jeans slide off your thighs and you have to raise your legs to finally get rid of it. Your panties are still on, when he lets his hand slide between your legs. His hand feels warmer than the heat that you have become, and when San finds your clitoris through the fine fabric, you spasm to the front. You bury your face into his shoulder and bite a small inch of his skin, when he begins to stroke that spot with two of his fingers and nibbles at your ear and whispers sweet nothings into it.

“So wet.”

Sharp breaths escape your breast, as he begins to play for your swollen clitoris.

“Come on, tell me what to do. There must be some things on your mind, right?”

San is luring you into a false sense of control and you’re stupid enough to obey his command. It’s just like he said; you need him, you need San, and if he doesn’t stop acting like he doesn’t know, you’re going to combust.

“Fuck, San, just make me feel—“, and though you can’t exactly hear yourself whine out from all the licking happening at your ear and his callous finger caressing your most sensitive area through the fabric, you still know you’re sighing, “so good.”

Your eyes lose focus, when you feel your panties disappear from your pussy, the cold air surprising your sensitive spot.

San sneers and finger-guns you, but before you can sneer, he sticks it into your mouth, lubing his digit up with your spit to carefully ease it to your pussy.

He groans and moves around the moisture for a short moment. San has always had quite thick fingers, but it feels even more robust now, when it slides into you. You clench around him and move your hips to the painfully slow pace of his pumps.

“Be patient. We don’t want you to hurt, do we?”

That he’s staying the nice little Sannie even in this situation makes you want to go insane, but not more than the slight scissoring to confirm your stretched innards.

“Patient enough?”, you hiss and grind against his hand again, to which San only coos, “Patient like the good girl you are.”

By then, his words and movements are almost like magic, when he angles his finger a little bit and finds your g-spot, which sends you into a short moment full of sparks and bliss, but a long, aching eternity, when it’s only repeated in the unbearably long intervals after a little bit of pulsating. You’re feeling every movement in such a detail, as if his one singular finger is becoming one with your body, one with your senses. 

“Is this enough for you?”

You’re whirring and your mind is babbling nonsense from all the possibilities San is presenting you. Mushy and messed up, you move against his finger, which slips with ease through your wetness, while you try to figure out what you want more: San’s dick or San’s face.

“I’m waiting for an answer, you know,” San whispers, softly kissing your forehead, as he continues to finger you.

“Th- then eat me out,” you whine under your breath and something inside you churns, when he giggles and removes his finger. He raises you by your legs, pushing you by the hip at the same time. You’re on your back now, breathing heavily as San is aligning his face in front of your entrance.

“With pleasure,” he hums and spreads your legs with his elbows, putting you on full display. It’s much too late to feel embarrassed now. You’re not shaved, you basically haven’t done anything, but maybe the rawness of it all is what intrigues you as well.

He stretches the skin a bit with both of his hands, making it get used to the position, while he peppers soft kisses on each of your thighs, that tickle each spot of your skin. You relax into his hands and naturally, you exhale the tension out of you.

His tongue feels soft and hot compared to his finger, when he slides it from the very bottom to the top, sending a shiver to your spine. It’s sensual and slow, and it does appear to you that San is savouring the taste, pushing his whole tongue against your labia to get the full picture of it. You shudder, a mixture of your own pulsating muscle and his humming vibrating between your legs.

He sucks on your clit and you notice immediately how pleasured are, already grabbing your sheets and curling your toes, pushing your legs against his hands he’s using to keep you opened. “Fuck,” you whine and move your head to the back, yearning for more stimulation. A slight chuckle leaves San’s mouth, until he plunges his tongue into you whilst continuing to suck all the sex juice that leaks out of you. The breath leaving his nose warms your privates and you quite figuratively melt into his mouth.

This time, he doesn’t need a lot of searching for your g-spot with his fingers and you weren’t prepared to immediately be sent back to pleasure-haven. He slides through the rough walls from the inside of you and doesn’t leave any spot go untouched, while he catches anything leaving out of your pussy with his mouth, creating squelching sounds all around. 

The pleasure at your clitoris and the pitter-pattering inside you is slowly tying the knot, and you shut your eyes with unavoidable whines leaving your lips. It’s all happening way too fast for you to react to each and every motion.

“Fuck, San, don’t stop, I’m— Oh, fuck—!”

The wet sounds of San’s saliva being mixed with your sex fluids, and his fingers moving in- and out of you again, they’re all adding onto the roller-coaster drop of your orgasm, but San thirstily panting “cum, cum for me!” against your vulva —while his tongue is busy pleasuring you—, his hot breath condensing against your own heat, that’s got to be one of the many significant factors that finally sends you over the top.

You moan and drive your lower body against his face, thighs closing down on him to squeeze his head.

San doesn’t even think about stopping there though and keeps you up there: He thunders his finger to push your button continuously and get every remaining squirt into his mouth, his tongue shovelling it all in.

“San, I— fuck! Please, San,” you beg, though it’s not a plead for him to stop, but rather make this moment last forever. You’re shaking, your pelvis is trembling towards his sharp nose that’s dug into your private hair, before you collapse onto your mattress and San eventually stops, grinning pridefully.

His lips are swollen pink, eyes covered with a desirous veil and San has to swipe his bangs away from his face to look at  your exhausted expression that’s still recovering from that hell of a heavenly orgasm. He swallows whatever’s left inside his mouth and leans over to you in order to bathe in your bliss. Out of pure gratitude, you cup his face and kiss him.

“You look all messed up already,” he admits, and enjoyment can be heard in his voice. Returning the kiss, San prompts: “Can you handle a second round? Or want to handle a second round, that is.”

Still panting, you nod eagerly, your lips grazing against his repeatedly.

“With words, lovely.”

You whine at his mendacious, know-it-all smile and give him a slap. "Quit it with the fucking-, ugh!" With an airy voice, you groan: “Yes, San. Please. I can handle, want to handle— want you to handle me, right fucking now."

San pats your head, pressing another kiss on your forehead and crams through the night stand cabinet next to the bed, probably searching for a condom and finding an untouched package full of it.

“Freshly-bought or just unused?”, he asks jokingly, putting the hand on your cheek as if he was pitying you for your minimalistic sex life that he’s assuming. The other hand is occupied opening up the box. “When did you buy these?”, he lisps, holding the condom in his mouth to rip it open, “I hope these aren’t expired.”

“Expire my ass!”

Oh, he better know you were keeping those for a good reason every time he came over. (Though you’ll keep it a secret it took half a year to get them to use.)

“You should say how fortunate that there’s so many, San.” You sniff. “’Cause hell knows this isn’t going to be—“

San slips into the latex layer with ease and doesn’t hesitate to enter your hole with one big, smooth slide. His finger is nothing compared to the thickness you’re experiencing; you just feel full, the stretch inside you making you feel like your body is being turned inside out. Before you can finish your clap-back, a wrecked and whole-hearted moan leaves your mouth.

“Isn’t going to be what?”, San asks, lowering his upper body and ultimately pulling out a little bit, sticking a thumb into your open mouth, “The last time? Is that what it is? You know you’ll want this again? Really, sweetheart?”

You don’t even want to form words anymore and just nod eagerly, sucking at his finger that tastes slightly acidic.

“It’s so dangerous to say that, you know that?”, and he’s pressing his forehead against yours, his dark, deep eyes staring into you with suffocating concentration. His hand is buried deep in your scalp. “Because you don’t know how happy that would make me”, San purrs with a raspy voice, and an airy moan leaves his mouth the second he thrusts right back into you. “So, so, unfathomably happy.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. I’m going to make you my little happy whore.”

It has already occurred to you that San had taken it as a challenge to call you every pet name that exists, but for him to degrade you like that, after every single word of of his sweet-talk has entranced you into numbing euphoria, has now just taken you to another state of pure bliss. With every creak of your bed and tug at your hair, your vision gets more blurry. You can see San and only San, piercing through you with his genitalia and eyes.

“Did you get that?”

“Y- yes!”

"I don't think so."

Your forehead cools down, when San gets his body back up again and installs his hands at your hips to get a good grab and also drive himself even deeper into you.

This has been your wet daydream for the longest of time— and even if you apparently could have been fucking him already during all those hours, which is frustrating, yes, but so, so fucking hot— listening to San’s sounds of pleasure, seeing his vision get all hazed from it and watching his eyes moving to the back of his, makes it all worth it. 

He pulls in and out again, finding a steady pace to really feel your inner space expand and close down on him again.

“Are you going to fuck me stupid?”, you lisp into his finger, your saliva sliding down your lip, cooling your fever down.

You can feel he’s sweating as well, as your fingers search through the cold wetness of his hair. "Do you want me to fuck you stupid?”

“Yes! Yes, please. Fuck me stupid, San!”

And with that appellation, San removes the thumb from your mouth and collars your throat with an almost animalistic growl and thrusts with ridiculous precision and force at the same time, a loud clap echoing through your bedroom. You’re not sure whether you’ve made a mistake, but San is absolutely blinded by pure desire now. With a slight choke, you try to moan, his shaft moving in and out of you mindlessly.

As he pounds into you, you notice once more that San’s breaths are being cut short because he’s still trying to stay as quiet as possible and you stare him down, his fingers collaring your neck.

“I, I want you to—“, you stutter, gasping for air and trying to catch up with your shaken body, “‘want to hear you moan. Moan for me, San, please!”

He laughs a little bit, panting along your plead and places his lips against your earlobe, letting you breathe freely for the short moment he's roaring things into it, his hand tangled in your hair.

“You, hah, feel just as delicious as you taste. You feel so good around my big cock. I bet you’ve never, unnh, had a big cock like mine, haven’t you? Never had someone like me, shit, fuck you out like this. How, ah, fuck, long have you been fantasizing this, huh? Days? Weeks? Months? Stupid little girl, thinks I didn't know, haha."

His breathy moans are absolute angelic, and that’s all you can comprehend, when you slowly feel your mind drift away. He’s hitting the spots just right, pressing your buttons with aligned movements. His thrusts are becoming sloppy, your moaning more strained. You don't even care that San is showing you that everything you knew was a lie, or at least an act he's kept up to mock you, because if your obliviousness has led to this moment— his cock crashing through you with a pace that makes you fear the next morning— then yes, again, it was all really worth it.

"I'm gonna—", you whine, and you're cut off by his hand again. Your eyes can barely perceive his sex-drunk expression, when you feel the knot inside you preparing itself for explosion.

"You're gonna cum?", San asks, his heavy breathing making it sound like he's gasping, "Are you going to cum for me?"

"Yes, I am!", you grunt and the male licks his whole palm to lube it up in order to rub it around your clitoris for maximum pleasure. You shiver, your legs trying to free themselves from the heavy weight that is Choi San, and screams for mercy leave your mouth, your second orgasm sending you to heaven, hell and back to earth, when he pulls out and continues to slide his hand over your clitoris until you spasm away from his touch. In the meanwhile, San has taken the collar off your neck and resumed jacking himself off, moaning your name and other pretty words to himself.

"You're so pretty like this, fuck," he cusses, the squelching sounds in his hands becoming more inaudible. "So fucked-out, because of me— shit .. I'll—"

He grabs you by your head, pulling his own face closer to yours to meet your lips for the last time, quickly removing the condom. Sharing a deep kiss, he ejaculates onto your abdomen, moaning from his own release into your opened lips. You lay there, wordlessly, your brain both foggy and clear as it has never been. You feel your warm sweat dry refreshingly on your skin and San shuffles away from the bed, walking to the bathroom with practiced steps to discard the empty condom and return with a towel to get you clean.

"And?", he asks, as you search for your pillow to clench onto it, feeling the stretched skin inside you. Sure, San has somewhat prepared you for the fucking, but no metronome could replicate the cruel rhythm he made you cum with.

"What, and?", you ask him back, your voice a bit raspy from the loud moaning.

"How was it?" 

San looks completely innocent again and it baffles you that you're falling for it again, even when his hair is forming unholy strands, immoral sweat dropping from his chin as he speaks. It's a cringe-worthy question and you would have dismissed it, if it wasn't for the cuddle you got from him.

"Come on, was it up to your imagination?", San begs you to answer, burying your body between his heated-up arms.

"Yes," you answer weakly. "Sannie, you’ve.. You've done your job. That was S-Level people pleasing, really."

San grins, placing multiple kisses over your temple and forehead. "You have such a way with words," he comments, "good thing that it really brings you far in life, hm?"

Was this the right time to make dad-jokes?

No, but nobody has fucked you out like San, so you'll let it slide. Even the corny "eating you out for breakfast" quip he makes in the morning, when you both notice that the fridge is still very much empty, or the "from study- to fuck-buddies" monologue he holds on your drive back to campus, you'll all let it slide. 

(And maybe you're stating the obvious here, but poor Seonghwa is never going to forgive you for San's laugh after you say something sensational with "letting it slide" used in another context, this time in the narrow space of his residency-bedroom, his roomie having listened to all the sounds coming out of your mouth behind the thin walls.)

part two: “into it, too deep”

[lowcallyfruity]

hcs for pomefiore?? 🙏

😭😭😭 ASTER…. I am so sorry but my hcs for Pomefiore are so disappointing 😭😭😭😭 I don’t really think about them often so I don’t have much aside from like my queer hcs and da autism/neurodivergent hcs ☝️

UM BUT HERE WE GO ☝️

🔻🔻🔻🔻

these are my main queer hcs for them:

Vil- Omni (high male pref, some enby pref) , any pronouns but prefers he/him 👍

Rook- pan 💥💥💥💥 he/none/it/they/ any he doesn’t care <//3 use whatever

Epel- GAY!!!! 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈 he/him :3

“Wow lux your hcs are so boring” YES!! I KNOW!!!- I’m a very simple person 🙄🙄🙄🙄 ignore my 5000 million other AUs and hcs for them

Uhmmmm Vil and Rook have autism !! Epel is neurotypical to me 😢😢😢😢 sorry to everyone that hcs him as neurodivergent <//3

Okay now random ass hcs

ROOK HUNT FRECKLES 🗣️🗣️🗣️ has ALOT all over his body </3

Epel also has freckles but they’re very light…. And also doesn’t have a lot

In my heart Epel sleeps with like 3 blankets and like. A bunch of pillows 😭😭😭 cause I just think he likes being comfy 🤷

I think Vil swears… but like…. Very rarely…. And the chances are higher when he’s really mad…..

VIL LOVES COLLECTING JEWELRY 💥💥💥 loves getting them from different time periods…. Huge fashion history nerd….

Kind of related to the last hc but one of his stims is jewelry/gems…. He likes the way they feel… gold/glitter/sparkly stuff/anything that’s ‘carved’ are visual stims for him…. Also feathers….. he likes feathers in my mind…

Vil and Leona are exes okay…. And a stim he got from Leona is twirling his hair/trying to curl it… (if that makes sense)

GRAHH ROOK LOVES THE TEXTURE OF FUR AND FEATHERS 🫡🫡🫡 also leather he likes the way leather feels

😭😭 rook hunt the type of guy to crack his bones and it sounds so fucking terrifying like my GUYYYYY

Controversial opinion…. Rook hunt…. Isn’t a skinny twink…. He actually has some fat…some muscle… but not in a dorito waffle abs dehydrated anime boy and kinda way… no no no…. Wrestler type build…. In my heart and in my soul… when he gets older he has a strong man body type ✌️

And yeah that’s all I can think of rn 😢

[claudiyerrr]

i saw you were taking crp matchups and I JUMPED at the opportunity! your writing is GORJUS!

ALRIGHTY THEN!! here’s some stuff about me! sorry if I write too much i have a bad tendency to ramble oopsies..!

im a 4’9 cis girl with golden brown hair, dark blue eyes, freckles, button nose and a septum piercing. my body is mid-size with a bit of tummy— just squishy!! :3

my personality is very outgoing, silly, kind, extroverted, and a bit loud. i have been told I’m very “sunshiney” and cute, and i have a very high pitched voice for someone my age. im extremely extroverted and try to talk to as many people as i can!! i love making friends and being friendly to those around me. i can also be described as “weird” but I really don’t mind cuz everyone’s a bit weird! as i said a bit ago, i ramble a ton and I actually make friends that way just by talking non stop heheheh. i have adhd and suspected autism :P !

my hobbies are: baking, singing, collecting cute things, shopping, drawing, writing songs, gaming, and making jokes!! im very involved in theatre classes cuz im a whimsical little fellow and most of my roles are comedic! my favorite thing to bake is cakes and I make homemade frosting! (secret recipe hehe) i also am a hopeless romantic and enjoy romance mangas with cute fluffy storylines! did I mention i love cute things??

likes: bunnies, DESSERTS, SWEET STUFF, anything cream-filled, parties, cats, jumping spiders, horror movies, forensics, and PINK!!!

dislikes: spicy or bitter foods, hateful people who are just mean to be mean, bigoted folks, my town 😞, caterpillars, things with WAY too many legs, big empty rooms.

EEEEKKK thank u sm for the opportunity to send this in it’s totally long but I hope i added the right information GRAHHH!!! im super excited to see what u come up with :3

i have a male preference as i am heteroflexible! HAVE A TOTALLY GOOD DAY!! <333

Omgosh firstly thank you so much! Also, neurodivergent forensic science besties?! Anyways, I hope you like it!!

Your matchup is. . . Ticci Toby!

While hanging out at a mall one Friday night, security comes over to your friend group and informs you that the mall’s closing up and you need to leave.

Not even realizing the time, you huff in a bit of annoyance because of how much fun you were having there and reluctantly leave with your friends. Once you’re back outside, the friend who drove you all there leads you back to their car.

You guys talk about your favorite purchases and other stores you wish you had the time to hit before getting kicked out for the night, but soon enough you grow a little carsick and decide to watch the horizon outside the car.

Rolling down the window, you rest your cheek in your hand tiredly and stare out into the foggy woods boredly until you spot a flash of orange. A lanky boy with brown hair poking his head out from behind a pine tree waves and you gasp in surprise.

Turning back to look at your friends, you interrupt them frantically, pointing out the window to where you saw the boy, only to see nothing. “You guys seriously didn’t see him?!”

They look at each other in confusion before shaking their heads much to your disappointment. You doze off trying to figure out what the guy was doing out there, after all, he seemed pretty young and didn’t have a hunting rifle or anything in his hands.

“[Y/N], you in or what?” one of your friends snaps you out of your thoughts as you hold your gaze on the dense woods as the car continues driving. “Sure, I’m down,” you answer, not knowing what you were now in on, but not really caring either way.

Pulling up to their house, everyone starts to get out and you take your shopping bags before getting out as well. “So, a sleepover?” you find yourself looking all around into the distant darkness with a small lip bite as your friend group stands beside the car under the streetlamp. After a few “yeahs” you all head inside and decide to sleep in their large living room.

Some of your friends set up snacks for a movie while others get pillows and blankets from unoccupied rooms. You try to help out and pitch in, but everyone seems to have things under control and just asks you to pick out a horror movie.

Slumping down on the couch nonchalantly, you scroll through a few movies before hearing a knock at the living room window and shuddering in response. Looking outside, you see the same brunet boy with orange goggles and do a double take as he points to the TV.

Looking back at the screen, you select the horror movie he was gesturing at as he nods excitedly, you return his excitement by mouthing a “thank you” and smiling, although a bit shaken up that he followed you to your friend’s place. He seems harmless, but you contemplate telling your friend at some point that night even if it annoys them.

As the rest of your friends file into the room, you greet them before looking back at the window and seeing that he’s not there anymore. You didn’t know why, but you almost felt upset that he left. After the movie, everyone starts falling asleep and before you know it, you’re the only one awake.

Deciding to bring some of the dishes to the sink for your friend, seeing as they’re sleeping, you hum to yourself softly before hearing another series of light knocks, this time from the window on the far side of the kitchen

Going over to it skeptically, you open it to be met with bright eyes behind those same orange goggles. “H-Hi, I’m Toby…”

You stick your head out the window and reach to shake his gloved hand, “The name’s [Y/N], nice to meet you Toby.”

He hesitates but shakes your hand with a twitch and from there, you two talk for a while, just getting to know each other until you see the sun start to come up.

He lets you go so you can catch some zs and waves goodbye, saying that he’ll see you around with a little wink. You wink back with a small blush; He seems cute.

*

*

*

Random headcanons:

- He found your house when your friend drove you home the next day, but you didn’t know until a week later when he showed up at your back door with a wave.

- You guys don’t take long before confessing; Maybe a month or two of being friends. You both grab each other’s hands, beaming with blushy faces while talking about how it was love at first sight.

- If you ever have plays for your theater classes, he’ll drag Hoodie along to record it for you so he can watch the whole time. Toby definitely cheers the loudest out of the entire crowd at the end, even throwing a bouquet of flowers that he hand-picked from the forest up onto the stage for you to catch!

- You’d both love gaming together in your free time and I can see him convincing you to play Work at a Pizza Place with him on Roblox. Let’s just say this kleptomaniac likes to burn innocent kids in the pizza ovens 💀

- I feel like you’d both cuddle facing each other and he’d enjoy playing with your hair and connect the dots (your freckles) with his fingertip. He might squish your belly or chubby areas, but it’s not in a teasing way! He just loves every inch of you.

- After the first time you surprise him with a cake, Toby would love it so much that he’d ask to help you out the next time you bake. He tries so hard but 100% screws up in tiny ways, which makes him get all shy and cute. You refuse to tell him the frosting’s secret recipe while the cake’s cooling, so he’ll wait right outside the kitchen against the wall so you guys can still talk as you finish up the cake.

- He’d enjoy reading romance mangas with you and you both squeal and kick your feet over the cutesie moments in them together.

- He’ll pick you up cute trinkets from any missions he goes on. They’ll probably have blood on them but he tries to remember to wipe it off before giving them to you.

- If you need someone to look over the lyrics of a song you write or listen to you sing it, Toby is not your best bet if you’re looking for brutally honest constructive criticism. It’s not that he’s dishonest, he just thinks the songs are perfect because you wrote them.

- His kisses are really soft and he likes to kiss all over your face especially. He tries to only use the unscarred side of his lips to peck you despite you not being grossed out about it. Toby’s just trying to be polite to his first girl.

- You guys definitely have deep moments and crying sessions after you find out he’s a killer and he relates to your strong dislike of bigots and hostile people in general.

- He may or may not try to show you caterpillars he finds in hopes of getting you over your fears. If it backfires and you freak out though, he’ll gently put it back and hug you while apologizing profusely.

- Toby absolutely adores the height difference between you guys because you’re only up to the middle of his chest when you two hug!!

[noneknxws]

ok so like. I been thinking.

———

It’s not exactly exciting on this server, Aimsey thinks. Not that he wanted it to be, because that might be even worse than being normal, but it’s definitely not very fun being alone. They met Eryn, who’s pretty cool, and some other people (Tubbo looked familiar, but she can’y quite remember why) but that’s about it. So, they’re going on a walk around the server. There has to be someone also walking around, right?

This server is actually very beautiful, with the usually clear blue skies and the healthy grass (in some areas). There’s the random building or structure too, or there’s the occasional scattered debris. Aimsey reminds himself to ask about that. He’s been walking on this path for a while and has seen a few figures, to which he waved, but they just ignored him. Rude. Except for one, dressed in a hedgehog onesie, but he was accompanied by a very tall and big piglin-type hybrid. Aimsey… didn’t really wanna go up and talk to them, especially with the giant ax the piglin had held.

“Well,” Aimsey says aloud dejectedly, “that’s it for me, then.” They’ve followed this wooden path for a while now, and they’re nearing the museum again. Passing it, he does sort of want to go inside, but it’s also getting dark out and he’s tired. He’d rather go to sleep in his bed than on the spruce floors of the museum. Also, trespassing.

They hum a song stuck in their head, walking along the path for the last time of today, headed home past that big burnt-ish oak house, when they realize- ‘hey, there’s actually another person here!’ They smile, fueled by pure excitement, speeding up their walking a little to see who the figure crouched by the side of the path is. As he approached the stranger, though, it’s really not who he expected.

“Guqqie?” They whisper, stopping on a dime. Because it is, it’s her, with the purple hoodie and the blonde hair- hair that’s gotten pretty short since they’ve seen her, they note- and the tail curled around her leg. It’s Guqqie and she’s alive and Aimsey doesn’t even know how that worked but they’re running at her anyway because holy shit, she’s here. With them again. Aimsey practically tackles their best friend, hugging her tightly.

“Guqqie!” Aimsey is definitely grinning right now, and then they get fucking judo-flipped. Which, in Aimsey’s humble opinion, is not a nice way to be greeted.

“What the fuck?” Guqqie says, but her voice is much deeper and a little sarcastic and overall different than what Aimsey is used to. And Aimsey takes that moment to realize, hey, this isn’t Guqqie at all.

“Oh,” Aimsey says, and their voice is flat. “Sorry.”

The person glares at them, “no need to sound so disappointed. It’s not my fault you’re on the grass right now.”

“Kinda is,” Aimsey points out, sitting up, and not-Guqqie glares at them harder before completely looking away. “Sorry, I just thought you were my.. friend. You look really similar.”

Not-Guqqie looks like they’re about to say something, when they hesitate and glance back to Aimsey, who’s dusting off their pants. “Your friend is an alien hybrid? Who looks like me?”

“Yeah,” Aimsey perks up, “you know them?”

Not-Guqqie rolls their eyes, “I might, if you give me their name.”

“Oh,” Aimsey tugs their hat onto their head, “Guqqie. Her name is Guqqie, and, well.. I really thought you were her. Same.. everything.”

Not-Guqqie freezes, their tail curling around their leg. “You know my sibling?”

Sibling? Guqqie never mentioned a sibling, but now that Not-Guqqie says it, Aimsey can definitely see the resemblance. Blonde hair, purple eyes, freckles, eye markings, tail, same hoodie, it’s.. really freaky, actually.

“My sibling,” Not-Guqqie repeats, a little harsher, “you know them? They’re alive?”

“Oh.” Aimsey says. “Yes.”

One of those questions is a lie. But Aimsey can pretend it isn’t for a little bit.

———

I DON’T KNOW HOW TO WRITE YAYYYYYY *cries*

I made this at like 7am dont judge my brain ok? ok

[justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms]

may i request a matchup, thank you so much!!

attack on titan, one piece, demon slayer

my name is kanii <3

i go by she/her

i am straight

cancer and ESFP

fit bod, curly brown hair (3b curls) hazel eyes, freckles, brown skin

im a very welcoming and easy going person, im easy to approach, im funny(in my opinion), i love making new friends and meeting new people and i absolutely love telling people about what happens in my life no matter how small it is lol.

i love dogs, cats, any animal pretty much except frogs and lizards. yuck. i dislike people who lie to get themselves up in society's standards, and i dislike carrots.

my main hobby is flag football (i play for my school), and listening to music/working out.

thats it, thank you!! <<<33

Hi Kanii! Thank you for your request! Sorry it took a while. I am currently up to episode 151 of One Piece so keep that in mind when reading your matchup from this fandom. I hope you like your matchups!

In Attack on Titan, I match you with...

Connie matches your easy going and funny nature well.

He loves your humour and will have the best time throwing jokes back and forth with you. Depending how good those jokes are, everyone around you will either be laughing along with you or shaking their heads in disappointment. Levi’s so tired of you both…

He’s naturally a more outgoing person so he enjoys meeting people and making friends with you. I see Connie as someone who has quite a few friend groups that somehow have never interacted with each other.

Connie is absolutely scared of frogs and lizards. He doesn’t like how slimy they are. So if there ever comes a day when you’re both confronted by a reptile, he is not going to be your knight in shining armour.

He does however like other animals so he’d love going to pet shops or animal adoption centres with you and saying hello to all the cute animals there.

In One Piece, I match you with...

The differences between you and Zoro make your relationship stronger. He isn’t the most welcoming person so having you there makes it easier for people to approach the crew.

Zoro is a surprisingly good listener. He may not seem like it (you think he’s asleep most of the time), but he’s always paying attention to you when you tell him what happened to you that day.

He actually quite enjoys listening to your daily updates. They’re a nice insight into you and he feels glad you are comfortable enough around him to open up like that.

Unlike Connie, Zoro isn’t scared of reptiles. He’ll get rid of any that sneak aboard the ship before you even get the chance to see them.

On a different topic, you would get along really well with Luffy. You both share the same easy to approach energy and people naturally like you.

In Demon Slayer, I match you with...

I just realised that everyone I’ve matched you up with uses at least two swords…

Anyway, Inosuke is a lot like Zoro in that he’s not the most approachable person. You are very different people but somehow you get along well.

Contrary to popular belief, Inosuke actually quite enjoys meeting new people, he just expresses it in strange ways. Having you there helps the people he’s trying to get to know feel more comfortable.

Will eat carrots for you. If your meal has carrots in it, he’s stealing them off your plate even before you ask if he’d like them. He knows you don’t like them and he’ll eat just about anything.

Please work out with him! He loves training and he loves spending time with you so working out with you is a win-win in his mind.

[aajjks]

👀🤨

BC!JK

“when you said you were coming over i thought you were joking” you say to jungkook as pulls you into a hug and you happily reciprocate his embrace. you’re happy that you tidied up your apartment before jungkook’s arrival because you sometimes have a bad habit of throwing things around and leaving them there.

“here, i can take your coat” you tell jungkook. it’s his first time at your place and you’re glad he seems to like your small home. your living room is decorated with the bright colors of yellow and turquoise and on your walls are various paintings you’ve painted yourself, motivational words, and a wall dedicated to the letters/pictures your students make for you.

your kitchen is white with granite counters and at some points, mahogany walls. you’ve got the basic essentials like a fridge with a freezer, a pantry for your snacks, and cabinets for your tupperware. the decor for your kitchen is nice too and jungkook can’t help but smile when he sees that your fridge is covered with colorful magnets he’s sure you’ve collected.

it’s nice. all of this is nice until jungkook’s curiosity leads him to the half eaten bouquet of fruit with a card saying: ‘i hope this makes you smile.’

weird, when did you get one of these?

“what are you talking about?” you say as you finish hanging jungkook’s coat up in your closet and return to see him looking at the edible arrangement.

“oh, this? i’m sorry i didn’t thank you” you pout as you stand by jungkook’s side with a shy smile on your freckled face “this was so sweet, jungkook. i love it. it was delicious too”

but for some reason, you’re beginning to believe jungkook didn’t buy the arrangement for you. he looks too clueless about it.

“you-you didn’t buy this did you?” your smile slowly fades and you both are left wondering who bought you the bouquet.

“maybe it was someone else’s” you deflect “the card didn’t even come with a name on it, see?”

you show jungkook the card.

no initials. no name.

it simply says ‘i hope this makes you smile.’

you thought it came from jungkook because you weren’t in the best mood since that conversation. unless someone was watching you.

This is definitely not making him smile and Jungkook crinkles his eyes to read the text again, he notices something, something about the handwriting is awfully familiar

“I brought something for you actually, it’s on your couch I brought some sweet treats for us to enjoy together, and I know how much you love sweets.” You must be disappointed because he didn’t send this, so who was romantic enough to send you this fruit bouquet?

Was it your ex? But the handwriting is so similar and he has definitely seen it before it can’t be eunwoo’s, because you would’ve recognized it.

Even the paper is blank with no watermark.. jungkook is thinking hard, and then it all clicks. “Ahhh yn… I know who sent this… this handwriting belongs to my dear dad.”

The cursive letters, the black ink. It’s familiar. And the funny part is it’s written in English.

“Y-Yn my dad sent you this… fuck.. what does he want? I’m going to tell my mother about this.” it is so obvious that he has other intentions with you because he’s never sweet enough to send someone a gift without having something to take but what could he possibly want from you?

That is a scary thought and he’s already starting to get angry, don’t think that he hasn’t been noticing the way his dad is literally so interested in you and what you do and how you do everything.

He has even asked him about your relationship status, but obviously jungkook lied because you are not ready to let people know that you’re dating right now.

He invited you to the dinner, and before that he went to your Academy, where you are a teacher. Something is really wrong.

It couldn’t possibly be doing all of this because he wants you to date his son, frankly his father couldn’t care less about his dating life.

“Yn… haha I am starting to get really angry now.” Jungkook turns to look at you. His jaw is clenched and he’s biting his lower lip.

“ never mind I gotta go. I gotta go to my parents…. Enjoy your treats..” he says… his father… what does he want?

Jungkook will get to know tonight.

[missrubybird]

Sims 4 High School Years TEENS!

Thanks to the EA Game Changer Program I am bringing you a truck load of teens styled with the new CAS items! 

Quick very honest CAS Review: Making these Sims was so much fun, I think the team did a great effort on the quality of the clothes, there is lots of variety and fun swatches (although I wouldn’t have minded more), however, I will say that a lot of them aren’t really teen appropriate. Most of the clothes seem über stylish for teens, some are pretty out there (for any age) and there are a lot of quite ‘revealing’ items that are cute but that in my opinion are more suitable for adults. Call me square but I wouldn’t want my 13 year old going out in a bra and see-through mesh shirt. So, the clothes that come in this pack definitely seem to be aimed at older, adult teens which is fine but it feels a bit like a missed opportunity. Also, when you put the ‘masculine’ clothes on a female frame it looks really bad most of the time and I don’t understand why this isn’t getting fixed. This shouldn’t be an issue still and it actually really bothers me, I should to be able to make female Sims and put men’s clothes on them without it looking horrible, period. And I’m sorry to say that I’m a bit disappointed with the hairs. There are only three ‘male’ hairs and even though there are ten ‘female’ hairs I don’t really like more than four of them. You’ll see more of the hairs in my second post, I did my best to utilize the majority of the CAS items. What I do like is that there’s four new aspirations and three new traits, I’m really excited to explore those in gameplay and the fact that we can assign sexuality to our Sims now is just so awesome.

These Sims use CC: 

Lashes 1 / 2 - Edges - Overlay - Bags - Freckles - Blush - Other Also please make sure you’re using a Remove EA Lashes mod.

DOWNLOAD FOLDER SFS

From left to right/top to bottom:

Alex Ackerman 

Myla Hutchison 

Rowan Olvera 

Nora Talbot 

Farah Shabani 

Jake Tackett 

Amber Eason 

Finley Castro 

Thank you to the talented creators whose cc I used! Credits go to: @rheallsim @squea @vibrantpixels @tamo-sim  ❤️

[skyward-floored]

Adventure of Link - oneshot

This one is technically the original zelda and adventure of link, but it happens after the both of them so technically it’s more aol. Anyway I love classic Link he’s such a sweetie and dork :)

————————————————————

Link padded softly across the courtyard, boots only making the quietest of scuffing noises as he went.

His sword slapped lightly against his back as he walked along, the belt holding it in place the slightest bit loose. Link paused to tighten it, peering around a corner as he fiddled with the strap for anyone around. Seeing nothing but the moonlight shining on the pathway, he continued on his way towards the gate that led to the drawbridge.

“You’re leaving already?”

Link paused in his steps, turning at the soft voice.

Princess Zelda the First, (the Sleeping Princess as the people had always referred to her as), stood in a doorway behind him, her red-brown hair silhouetted by the faint moonlight.

Link stared, momentarily struck speechless.

Then he gave a small nod in answer to her question. “I’ve already been here too long.”

Zelda frowned, her eyebrows creasing further.

“You’ve only been here three days,” she said, dismay in her voice as she came closer to him. “Can’t you at least stay the night?”

Link looked at the disappointment on her face and almost said yes.

But then screaming and chants filled his mind, monsters baying for his demise always a few steps behind, storming the castle, going through anyone in their way to get to him and his blood...

Link lowered his gaze.

“It’s safer this way.”

Zelda came close enough so that he could better make out her features, perpetual shadows under her eyes from her long sleep, barely-visible freckles that almost seemed to sparkle in the moonlight. Eyes so warm and red that he’d always wanted to tell her how they reminded him of the last rays of the sun when it set for the day, draping the entire landscape in a soft crimson light.

Yeah. It was definitely safer this way.

“I guess I can’t stop you,” Zelda murmured, rubbing her arm. She looked back up and pulled something out from behind her back. “You forgot your cap again. It was in the hall outside your room, I found it yesterday, actually”

Link reached out and took the green cloth, smiling as he placed it back on his head where it belonged. He hadn’t even noticed it was gone, being so preoccupied with leaving quietly as he’d been. It smelled freshly washed, and he noticed at least one new neatly sewed patch where a hole had been.

Zelda smiled as he put it on, and Link felt his heart twitch.

He bit his lip nervously and took a step towards her, but she did the same, and they were suddenly much closer to each other then either of them had meant to get.

They both froze, faces only inches apart.

Link’s heart thudded in his chest, mind flashing back to when he’d first woken the princess and she’d pressed a grateful kiss to his cheek. He’d been so overcome with relief and leftover adrenaline he’d let her, and had almost considered kissing her back when his brain had kicked in and reminded him that this was a princess and you don’t just go around kissing those.

She hasn’t ever kissed him again, and Link has chalked it up to them both being overly emotional at the time, but he had to admit he still felt that spark when she was around.

And it was making it awfully hard for him to leave at the moment.

He took in a steadying breath, steeling himself. He couldn’t stay. The curse in his veins made him too much of a hazard to stay in one place for too long, and despite how much he loved being around the princess (both of them), he had to leave.

He needed to keep them safe.

“Thank you for my cap, Princess,” Link said quietly, adjusting the rim a bit. “And I’m sorry. I can’t stay.”

He pulled back and turned to go, but Zelda caught his hand and stopped him.

He froze and turned around, giving her an inquiring look.

She looked almost as surprised as he did, opening her mouth, then hesitating. Then she pulled him into a hug, Link going stiff from the unfamiliar sensation of being wrapped in someone’s arms without said arms trying to kill him in some way.

“Stay safe. And come back, okay?” she whispered, and Link nodded, not sure what to say.

Then she pulled back and looked at him in a way that had Link’s heart thud weirdly in his chest, her eyes meeting his and sending a jolt through him.

And before he could think too hard about what he was doing, he lifted her hand up and pressed a featherlight kiss to the back.

Then he pulled away and abruptly turned, nearly running out the gate as his face flamed with heat.

Hand kissing was something people did all the time, especially in court, but Link certainly wasn’t one of the people who did it. He’d never been good at physical affection, anything more then a handshake always felt awkward to initiate, and while he liked being hugged, it certainly wasn’t something he was good at.

What if he’d overstepped? What if only court people were allowed to kiss the princess’s hand?

What if Zelda hadn’t wanted him to?!

He ran clear to the drawbridge without even a glance behind him, but as he was about to dart across he hesitated, peeking back just once at Zelda.

She was still standing in the same spot where they’d parted, holding the hand he’d kissed close to her chest. He could just make out the smile on her face, and the faint blush that accompanied it, and as she saw him look back she gave him a small wave.

Huh. Maybe he hadn’t overstepped after all.

He felt his mouth turn up in a small smile itself as his own blush still warmed his face.

Then he left over the drawbridge, an extra skip in his step as he disappeared into the woods on the other side.

[queenshelby]

Oppenheimer (Part 16)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Fluff, Angst, Covid

Words: 1,689

Please interact and comment to keep it going. I always love to know what you think.

Within seconds, you both managed to untangle yourself from each other and straighten yourself up, just in time for the trailer door to open.

You walked over towards the sink and washed your hands while you watched Mathew, one of the crew members, walk inside followed by two young men.

“Hey dad” the youngest of the two young men said before walking over towards Cillian and giving him a quick hug.

“You arrived early” Cillian said surprised and it was at this point that Mathew informed him that their flight landed at LAX half an hour earlier than expected.

“I tried to call you when we got in but didn’t get the roaming to work. This bloody new phone is a real pain in the arse” the older one of his sons then said but, unlike the younger one, he didn’t go on to hug his father voluntarily.

“That’s alright. Now, don’t I get a hug?” Cillian teased before pulling his older son towards him jokingly and hugging him firmly.

“Jesus dad, can you possibly be a little more embarrassing?” the young man said, causing Cillian to laugh.

“Actually yes, I can. Do you want me to show you?” Cillian responded jokingly before introducing you to both of his sons, Charlie and Max.

“Nice to meet you” you said before shaking both of their hands nervously. Whilst you knew that they were arriving today, meeting Cillian’s sons like this was not what you had expected and you were a little taken by how much they looked just like their father.

Max was the eldest, having recently turned 19, and his eyes were as blue as his father’s eyes. He was slender and covered in freckles, just like Cillian.

Charlie, on the other hand, had green eyes but was also a spitting image of his father with light brown hair and full lips.

YOUR POV

You talked with Cillian and the boys for a little until, eventually, Cillian’s break was over and he had to return to work, filming for the remainder of the afternoon.

“Sorry guys, I will need to get Mathew to take you back to the apartment. We are already behind schedule and work is calling” Cillian said and his sons appeared somewhat disappointed. They had expected their father to be off for two days when they arrived but, since he had contracted COVID-19 the week prior to their arrival, filming was pushed back.

“That’s alright dad. We will see you later” Charlie said, knowing what had happened after having spoken to his father while he was in isolation, but you had an idea to keep them entertained.

“Do you want me to show them around the studio Cills?” you offered and Cillian couldn’t help but nod and smile.

Whilst his sons didn’t require someone to look after them, they didn’t have the appropriate clearance to wander around set on their own and who better to show them around than the director’s daughter.

“If you have time, that would be amazing Y/N. Thanks” Cillian said politely and when both of his sons nodded eagerly, you took them under your wing and followed Cillian out of his trailer.

You didn’t know much about the filming technology and resumes of the cast but you knew enough to impress Cillian’s two sons.

Max, in particular, seemed amazed by what you had to explain and he followed you like a quiet shadow.

“So, you are dad’s assistant, are you?” he asked and you didn’t quite know how to respond to this question. All you knew was that you couldn’t tell him the truth.

“His assistant is sick. She also contracted COVID, so I am stepping in. I don’t think I am very good at it though” you laughed, causing Max to smile at you.

Unbelievably he also had the same bright smile as his father and it was adorable.

“Well, dad should be easy to look after. He is a pretty normal guy even though he can be a little embarrassing at times” Max reassured you and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Embarrassing? How so?” you asked curiously.

“He makes the worst dad jokes and doesn’t know how to use Snapchat properly. It’s pretty lame but he can also be pretty cool, you know…” Max laughed and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

“What’s Snapchat?” you then asked teasingly and both Max and Charlie pulled a rather familiar face at you, cocking their eyebrows.

“Oh my, you both look like your father right now, looking at me like this” you told them somewhat amused but Max wasn’t amused by your comment at all. He hated being compared to his father and told you that he gets comments like this all the time.

“People tell me all the time that I look like a younger version of my dad, without the grey hair and wrinkles. It can get pretty annoying” Max went on to say and you immediately began laughing.

“I think there is a little similarity between you and your father but you should really take it as a compliment” you told Max and received yet another eyeroll from him, causing you to change the topic before showing them both the best part of the studio. The free buffet.

***

At the buffet, you introduced Max and Charlie to Florence Pugh and you could see that Cillian’s youngest son Charlie was rather star struck by her.

“Excuse him Y/N. Florence is the fantasy of his wildest dreams ever since he saw her in the latest Marvel movie” Max explained to you as you both watched Charlie try and form a coherent sentence while speaking to the famous actress.

“Good to know” you laughed but this wasn’t all Max had to say.

“The fact that dad gets to make out with her in front of the camera really grosses him out which, I think, is understandable” Max laughed and you couldn’t help but chuckle at his comment.

“Well, that’s part of the job” you told him before asking him whether there was someone he would really like to meet.

“Not really. This is perfect” Max reassured you with a smile.

“This is perfect? Like, walking around the studio somewhat uncoordinated?” you joked, knowing that you weren’t probably the best tour guide.

“No, walking around the studio with you and you explaining everything to us. It’s perfect. Thank you” Max said and you couldn’t help but gasp. Was he just being polite or was he trying to flirt with you, you wondered?

“You are welcome” you said nervously before continuing your tour with Cillian’s sons in tow.

***

Later that day, when Cillian arrived at his apartment at around 8 o’clock with three pizzas and a six pack of beer, his sons greeted him from the living room.

They both had settled in nicely and were rather hungry already after not eating much at the free buffet.

“Please tell me it’s not Florence Pugh you are seeing” Charlie said as he aimed one of your hair ties at Cillian and shot it towards him.

“What the…?” Cillian began to say and both of his sons began to laugh.

“There is a second toothbrush in the bathroom, several hair ties on the shelf and an empty box of contraceptive patches in your bedroom” Max observed and Cillian nervously placed the pizza boxes on the kitchen counter and sat down on the lounge, next to his son Charlie.

“You know that, when your mother and I divorced…” he went on to say, but Charlie immediately interrupted his father.

“Dad, it’s okay. You can be with other women. Just not Florence Pugh” Charlie said, causing his brother Max to laugh before he snatched himself a beer from the six pack Cillian had left on the kitchen counter.

“The legal drinking age is 21 here, mate” Cillian reminded his eldest son before reassuring Charlie that he was not involved with Florence Pugh.

“So don’t tell anyone that I had a beer then dad and, as far as Florence Pugh is concerned, isn’t she seeing someone who is your age?” Max asked and, when Cillian confirmed this to be the case, his sons were rather disturbed by that and engaged in an entire conversation about age gap relationships.

“I think that, if two people like each other and there is chemistry, age doesn’t really matter” Cillian argued, defending his co-star’s choices and his own before serving up some pizzas.

“Talking about chemistry and age, how old is Y/N?” Max asked with great curiosity.

“She just turned 25. Why?” Cillian asked, wondering whether his sons were on to him.

“Well, I think she is rather attractive and I was thinking about asking her out on a date” Max said and, before he had even finished his sentence, Cillian choked on his piece of pizza.

“No” he gasped quickly while trying to cough up the piece of food that, clearly, had slipped down the wrong way.

“Why not?” Max asked and when Cillian had finally stopped coughing, he responded.

“Because Y/N is off limits Max. You cannot ask her out” Cillian said firmly.

“But why?” Max asked again.

“Firstly, she is Christopher Nolan’s daughter. He is the director of the movie and that makes her off limits. And, secondly, she’s too old for you” Cillian explained.

“You just said that, when two people like each other and there is chemistry between them, then age doesn’t matter” Max reminded his father.

“Forget what I said Max. You are not asking Y/N Nolan out on a date. Are we clear?” Cillian asked and, when his son finally nodded in agreement, he sighed with relief.

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[subspencer]

Okayyyy so I’m in a hotel rn and in the bathroom there’s a big tub and right next to it is a shower and a wall that separates it BUT half way up the wall is just a giant window so if you’re in the shower you can watch someone in the tub and I literally can’t get the thought of arriving at a hotel on a case and seeing that set up and waiting until Spencer is in the shower before “innocently” taking a bath at the same time and then teasing him by masterbating in the tub while he watches in the shower before yk,,, shower sex 💀 okay it’s late and I need to sleep apparently 😂

okay so i changed it a little bit but ! whew ! it’s finally here (sorry this is over a month late lol <3). reader can be gender neutral. 

cw: mutual masturbation, perv!spencer.    wc: 1.4k

Spencer had this small, annoying rule. Whenever the team was out on a case, sex was off the table. Something about maintaining focus, or whatever.

He was fine with sharing the same room, but no sex. And sometimes, that made it so much worse. He was always at a fingertip’s length away, curled in bed next to you while you slept in his arms. Pressed closely together, but only in the most innocent of ways. 

This self-imposed rule your boyfriend had was, in summation, fucking stupid. Because how did he possibly think that abstaining from sex would improve your focus on anything? If anything, you were wound even tighter after days of busting ass at work and nights without any stress relief. 

He could sense it had that effect on you. Before bed that night, Spencer crawled onto the mattress behind you, planning on doing something small to help with that. He would’ve let you spend hours mindlessly scrolling through your phone, resting your head on his chest while he played with your hair for as long as you needed to feel a little more relaxed. 

Instead, you swatted his hand away as soon as he got near you.

“Fuck off, Spence. I’m not in the mood,” you grumbled. He knew from prior experience that playing with your hair sometimes had the opposite effect of relaxing; it tended to lead to more physical places in no time. Things that Spencer ruled against doing while on cases.

“Fine,” he sighed, rolling off the bed. “I’m gonna shower first, if that’s alright with you.”

“That’s fine,” you rolled your eyes, barely containing your annoyance as you flipped over to your side, continuing to scroll through your phone in an effort to ignore him. The sound of his footsteps rescinded towards the hotel bathroom, and you tacked on, “I just think it’s rude that you don’t want me to join you!”

Spencer laughed at your stubborn display, walking into the bathroom as he shed his clothes. When you didn’t hear the door close right away, you snuck a small peek behind you. You could see his reflection in the bathroom mirror, slowly fogging up from the steam. Still, you got a good eye full of his bare torso, toned and speckled with the occasional, tiny freckle or mole. 

“We’re on a case,” he reprimanded, poking his head out of the doorframe to give you a stern look, right before shutting the door behind himself. “We can do that when we get home!” 

You groaned and flipped onto your back, irritated as ever. If Spencer was so adamant about his no sex on cases rule, then you figured you might as well get some rest. But several minutes of tossing and turning later, you remembered that the hotel room also came with a decently sized bathtub. And what better way to actually relax than with a bath?

You grabbed your towel from its discarded place on the armchair, stripping down and wrapping yourself in it before padding toward the bathroom. Spencer squeaked when he heard the door open, a little out of surprise as he saw your shadow through the foggy glass shower door as you walked inside.

“I told you, we can’t,” he said with the slightest bit of disappointment.

“Relax, Spencer. I’m here for the bath, not you.” You ignored the shower and moved around to the other end of the bathroom, running water into the tub that was situated behind a tiled wall that separated it from the shower.

He sighed, half relieved and mildly offended, and dropped his guard. He dipped his head back under the shower stream, letting hot water run over his face and through his hair, beading down his body. When he looked back up, he noticed something.

A small window on the tiled wall of the shower, looking directly at the bathtub.

You had your back to him, bending down to test the temperature of the running water on your hand as you waited for it to fill up. The tiny bath towel doing barely anything to cover you. 

Spencer tore his eyes away, an instinctual reaction telling him that he probably shouldn’t be looking. But just as quickly, he peeked again, in time to catch you dropping the towel and climbing in. He couldn’t see anything under the foaming bubbles, but he could see your face as you turned to rest your head against the other wall.

Your eyes were closed as you leaned back, sinking into the soothing warm water. He hadn’t seen you look so calm this entire week, and it made him smile to see you this way. But then he saw your chest rise and fall with a deep sigh. Followed by a tiny whine that he could tell you were trying to keep quiet. And suddenly he wasn’t looking at you with adoring eyes anymore. 

He pushed his wet curls back and stepped closer to the window, watching to see what you’d do next. Maybe he was dreaming about it. Maybe he was more affected by his own rule than he thought, and this was his brain getting back at him for not giving in sooner. But moments pass and he knows he’s not imagining it.

Your hands were under the water. The only thing he could see was your face and your knees bent upwards, leaving him to guess what was happening under the surface. Your bottom lip slipped into your mouth, held firmly between your teeth as you lolled your head to the side, and he knew. He’d seen that face enough times.

Hot water ran over his shoulders as he pressed as close to the window as he could; feeling only slightly guilty and inappropriate for observing you do such a private thing. But he’d done that to you several times before, so surely he could justify himself for peeking in. 

A whimper escaped your lips, and his hand moved down to find his cock, absentmindedly wrapping his fingers around it as you continued. One of your hands came up from the surface just briefly enough for him to see you wrap it over your chest, tugging one of your nipples, and he started to move his own against his length. 

He picked up pace, trying to keep his own moans at bay when he saw your legs twitch. A sure sign that you found a perfect rhythm for yourself. Your mouth fell open, and he’d trained his eyes on you hard enough to be convinced he saw your lips silently speak his name. His hips bucked into his palm. His other hand slammed down to the wall, bracing himself against it as he drew himself nearer to orgasm. 

Your eyes screwed even tighter as you felt a knot in your lower stomach wind up. He fucked up; moaned out your name too loudly, and you opened them, quickly finding him in front of you, behind the window. 

Even with the surprise, you were too close to stop. And when you realized what he was doing behind that wall, you couldn’t possibly have. You mewled his name loud enough for him to hear, rolling your hips to grind yourself against your fingers as the knot grew. 

Spencer’s perfect lips parted. Hearing you say his name like that brought him so fucking close. He wanted to forget his own stupid rule. He was half a second from telling you to come in here and join him, to take you against the shower wall. But he didn’t last. As soon as he heard that familiar, high-pitched whine coming from you as you hit your orgasm, he was painting his release all over himself, covering his hands and abdomen and some of the tile. 

His head dropped against his shaking arm that managed to support him through it all. When he collected himself and looked up again, you were gone. The water was still moving from when you must’ve gotten out. 

The glass door opened behind him as you stepped inside, already dripping from your bath. 

“You know, they recommend showering after baths…” you joked, moving under the stream of hot water. Spencer stepped closer, water now running over both of you as the gap between you came down to an inch. You ran a finger over his belly, wiping a small bit of his come before it washed away, and held it up to him before cleaning it off your fingers with your mouth. “Just to make sure you’re all clean.”

[ptergwen]

I think your requests are open (I didn’t see anything that said otherwise but I suck at this app lol) but I was wondering if you could write a peter x reader (likely college-age) where they have an academic rivalry and just tease each other a lot and lots of fluff and shit? It can be an established relationship or like a friends/rivals to lovers or really whatever you want. Sorry if this is super specific! Anyways, I love your writing, it always cheers me up :)

friends close, enemies closer

ik this is cherry BUT i had to

w/c: 1.6k

warnings: swearing and hints of suggestiveness

a/n: thank you my love ! i’m actually obsessed with this concept so i’m super super happy with how it came out n i hope you are too :,)

-

you wipe sweat from your upper lip, peeking at peter’s laptop screen. he’s more than halfway through the paper your english professor tasked your class to write. he looks to have not a worry in the world as he continues to type away. growling at this, you dive right back into work.

you’ve been at each other’s throats since the beginning of classes when you both wanted the same spot. first row, middle seat. peter had officially claimed it in the end. you’d flopped down next to him and his irritating smirk.

the dude is smart, you’ll give him that. his knowledge of literature is almost as impressive as yours. almost. he raises his hand any chance he gets, effectively stealing your thunder if you dare to participate.

peter is also a bit of a people pleaser. he’ll chat up your professor at office hours, fascinate her with his hot takes on things or stupid anecdotes. you often get so annoyed that you bail before you even attempt to woo her yourself. the sight of you storming off is something peter thoroughly enjoys.

bottom line is, golden boy peter parker never loses. underneath the sweet, innocent persona he hides behind is a ruthless fighter. you’re determined to end his winning streak, thus sparking your ongoing competition to be better than the other in every way possible.

this time, your goal is to meet your ten page paper requirements the fastest. they aren’t due for weeks, but you and peter are banging them out in one sitting.

you’re hauled up in the campus library, sat side by side despite your wishes for peter to get his own table. he’d insisted on sharing with you. why, you haven’t a clue. you can’t stand him, and he isn’t the fondest of you either.

that’s what you tell yourselves, at least.

“progress report?” peter requests from you. “page three. you?” you grunt back. he props his feet up on the table, arms flexed behind his head. “finishing up page seven. you already knew that, though... creeper.”

god, you can hear the shit-eating grin in his voice.

you glance over at peter, doing your best to ignore how his biceps bulge under his hoodie. nerdy little parker is ripped.

“worry about yours, i’ll worry about mine. thanks.” you reread the sentence you wrote prior to peter’s chiseled body distracting you. “oh, the irony,” he sighs and nudges the edge of your laptop with his sneaker. scowling, you shift the screen away from him.

about a minute of silence goes by until it’s unfortunately filled by peter. he stretches his arms out, finally removing his dirty shoes from the table.

“i’m gonna take five. maybe, you could use it as an opportunity to catch up to me,” peter cockily suggests. “spare me your charity, peter. i’m doing just fine without it,” you retort, letting out a scoff. peter raises his hands in defense. “if you say so, princess.”

here you were, naively thinking peter couldn’t become any more insufferable than he already is.

you slam your laptop shut and jab a finger at his chest. “jesus christ, how many times do i have to ask you not to call me that?” a patronizing pout adorns peter’s lips. “aw, i love it when you get all bossy on me. so cute.”

he grabs your hand still on his chest, pressing a light kiss to the back of it. you’re quick to wipe it off on his hoodie. nevertheless, there’s an undeniable heat rushing to your cheeks.

“well, i hate it when you call me princess,” you deadpan. peter tilts his head to the side. “do you?”

of course not. deep down, you live for the fuzzy feeling you get whenever the nickname slips from his tongue. oh, his tongue and the things it can do. poking out as he focuses hard on a question, running across his pink lips…

you have to reel it in. this is peter parker you’re fantasizing about, your mortal enemy.

“yes. i hate it, and i hate you,” you unsuccessfully convince the both of you. “no, you don’t,” peter rasps, darkened eyes scanning over your features. his stare is intense and intimidating. he grasps your chin between his thumb and index finger, slowly leaning in closer.

he’s not going to stop until you make him. you don’t want to, but you will.

you shove his shoulder, dragging your laptop towards you again. “on second thought, i could use that catch up. you’re not gonna throw me off my game, parker.”

your rejection seems to disappoint peter. his expression matches that of a kicked puppy, brows furrowed and arms crossed over his chest.

“we’ll see,” he murmurs and swings a leg over his chair. “alright, i’m gonna run to the caf. you want anything?”

he’s offering to buy you food now? what’s his angle here?

“i’d say yes, but i’m afraid you’ll poison it somehow,” you half joke. peter hops to his feet. “don’t give me any ideas,” he warns, snatching his backpack off the floor. “i’ll just surprise you.”

although you’re curious what his mystery snack choice for you would be, you can’t accept. you’d be going against your entire dynamic.

would that be so terrible?

absolutely.

you wave him off towards the double doors. “i’m good, peter. really. i’m not that hungry, anyway.” shaking his head, peter throws a backpack strap onto one shoulder. “y/n, your stomach’s been grumbling for the last hour. you gotta eat.”

he’s not wrong. you’re starving, but you’ve been too preoccupied by your essay to break for dinner.

“fine, surprise me,” you concede. peter flashes you a smile, this one void of its usual condescendence. “i’ll be back. try not to miss me too much,” he calls as he walks backwards to the library doors. “i won’t. shoo already,” you dismiss him, a laugh falling from your lips.

peter winks at you, then disappears into the night. you’re left with a serious case of butterflies and a certain freckle faced know-it-all on your mind.

that’s a problem.

you’ve managed to get another page done when peter reappears. he sits back down and slides a bag across the table, you closing your laptop. you dig into it to figure out what he picked for you. you’re not too pleased with his selection, however.

“oh, yummy. vomit in a cup,” you announce as you hold a green smoothie in your hand. peter reaches over and pats your thigh. “it’s good for you. drink up, princess.” you slap him away. “hard pass. i’d rather you have gotten me nothing.”

narrowing his eyes, peter pulls two cookies wrapped in a napkin from his pocket. “i’m guessing you don’t want these either? more for me, then.”

they’re chocolate chip and m&m, your favorite in the cafeteria. they just came out of the oven, so they’re still warm.

“how… how did you know i…” you trail off, peter setting the cookies in front of you. he offers you a lopsided grin. “i know a lot about you, believe it or not. i pay attention.” you surprise yourself by returning his smile. “thank you, peter. how much do i owe you?”

“nah, it’s on me,” peter assures you. “enjoy.” pushing aside your unappealing drink, you seize the cookies instead. “you have to eat, too. let me at least split these with you.” there’s a beat before peter nods. “fair enough.”

that results in you two munching on your cookies while pretending to write your papers. you’re sneaking glances at each other whenever the other isn’t looking, in reality.

once it’s about time for the library to close, you’re on the verge of passing out. peter is concluding his essay until he hears a thump from your side of the table.

he finds you with your cheek smushed against your keyboard and hitting random letters, snores escaping you.

chuckling to himself, peter places a hand on your shoulder. “hey, y/n?” he speaks in a hushed tone. you awake with a gasp, drool pooling at the corners of your mouth. “easy there, princess. it’s only me.” he rubs circles on your back, and it’s oddly comforting.

“keep doing that,” you purr, momentarily forgetting how much you’re supposed to despise peter. he lets his fingers dance across the exposed skin of your lower back. “we should probably head out. it’s kinda late,” peter decides.

you sit up, bones aching and eyes forced open. “not yet. have to beat you first.” you start to delete the gibberish you accidentally typed. peter cups your cheek to turn your head towards him, your movements halting. “this one’s a tie. you did good, y/n/n,” he coos. “finish the rest another day.”

“why’re you being so nice to me?” you nearly whisper. peter uses his thumb to swipe the drool from your lips. “‘cuz i care about you. i might not show it, but i do,” he admits with the hint of a smile. “besides, i need you… for the, uh, the healthy competition.”

laughing softly, you twist his hoodie strings around your fingers and tug. “your intentions are pure as always. sure that’s all you need me for?” peter’s gaze darts to your lips, then your eyes. “we’ll see,” he repeats.

rivalry be damned.

“mm. i care about you too, parker. thanks again for tonight,” you hum. a blush coats peter’s cheeks, even in the dim library lighting. his sweet and innocent side might truly exist. “no problem.” peter links your pinkie with his, the gesture giving you that fuzzy feeling. “i’ll walk you back to your dorm?”

you lean over and kiss his pinkie intertwined in yours.

“lead the way.”

[omg-imatotalmess]

Pet Names

Hey guys! I have had the headcanon that George would turn into a puddle when you call him something sweet, and my hypothetical question got lots of positive responses. So, here I am, yet again, offering a subby boy because that’s my specialty. Hope y’all enjoy!

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader

Requested: No

Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex (wrap it up kids!), sub!George, dom!reader, pet name kink, praise kink, oral sex (male receiving), fingering, riding, swearing

                                                            ---

There was one thing about dating George Weasley that was an absolute fact: George loved pet names. Of course, you knew that to a degree. Since you started dating, it had become a rarity that he called you by your given name. You would have hated it from anyone else. Pet names typically weren't your thing, but you couldn't bring yourself to hate them when his voice dripped with sweetness. However, it never really occurred to you that he might want you to use them too. It wasn't until the two of you were lying on a couch in the Room of Requirement that you even thought about it. 

Snuggled up to his chest, listening to his heartbeat as he dozed, you began to reflect on the whole pet name situation. He always had something sweet on the tip of his tongue while you only ever called him George. Georgie, if you were feeling particularly affectionate. You wondered if it bothered him that you didn't have a cute name for him. It wasn't like he'd ever asked, but sometimes he had trouble asking for things that he thought were embarrassing without joking about it. He always gave you delightfully cheesy nicknames when people were around that could easily be brushed off as joking. So maybe the embarrassment thing was the case. He just didn't exactly know how to ask. 

"I can hear the wheels turning in your head, sweetheart," George said, breaking you from your musings. 

"Sorry, go back to sleep," you said, nuzzling his neck affectionately. 

"Wasn't sleeping before anyway. Even if I was, what goes on in that brain of yours has to be more interesting," he said. Smiling, you rolled completely on top of him so you could see him better. "Well, hello there." 

"You caught me. I was thinking again," you said. 

"Were you thinking about me?" 

"Why, yes, in fact, I was." 

"How embarrassing. Do you have a crush on me or something, love?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

"You're an idiot," you said fondly. "Really, though, I wanted to ask you something." The playfulness drained from his face immediately as he adopted a more serious expression. He almost looked a little worried. Smiling, you leaned forward and pressed a kiss between his furrowed brows in an attempt to make the wrinkle go away. 

"Is something wrong?" he asked. 

"No, I was just thinking about the nickname thing," you said. Your answer did nothing to relieve the expression. 

"Don't you like them? I'll call you something else if you want." You shook your head. 

"Actually, I was wondering if you wanted me to call you something else. Do you want cute names too?" you asked. George shifted under you, his expression morphing into one you'd become incredibly familiar with. A bright red flush bloomed over his cheeks as an almost concerningly wide grin pulled at his lips. 

"Thought you'd never ask snookums!" he laughed nervously, "Here I thought you were about to let Ron and Hermione out cute us. Personally, I think you should go for something like 'the sweetest love of my life and future husband.' The whole phrase. Just to prove them that we're the cuter pair." As he rambled, you found yourself becoming more and more amused by his expert avoidance of your eyes. 

"George?" Your voice was gentle but prodding, cutting his nervous speech short. Blinking, he offered another nervous laugh. 

"Yes, darling, sweetness, light of my life?" he asked. 

"Breathe," you said. 

"Right. I'll live a lot longer if I do that," he said, pulling in a steadying breath. Smiling, you ran your fingers through his hair in an attempt to soothe him further. 

"Now, as much as I truly do like 'the sweetest love of my life and future husband,' it's kinda a mouthful," you said. 

"That's what she said," George rattled off automatically. 

"Jesus, I didn't mean to fluster you so bad. I'm sorry, sunshine," you said, testing the name.

And he whimpered. It was just a soft, breathy little sound. One you would have missed if you hadn't quite literally been laying on his chest. You weren't even sure if he was aware he'd done it, but, Christ, were you happy he did. That one little sound told you so much. Not to mention the way his fingers squeezed needily at your hips and that his eyes seemed to lose focus. Suddenly, you felt like you were taking up his entire field of vision. Nothing beyond you existed. Not to him. All that for just one simple word. 

"You like, sunshine?" you asked. 

"I dunno if it has the same ring as, uh, as whatever it was that I said, but it's alright," he said, squirming under your penetrating gaze. 

"Just alright? You want something else?" you teased.

"If you-if you think you can c-come up with something better," he stuttered. 

"Okay, baby boy," you purred.

If you thought sunshine had done it for him, baby boy blew that out of the water. A shiver tore through his body right down to his fingertips as his mouth dropped open into a quiet moan. Despite the low volume, the sound echoed in your ears. It dripped with pure need. As though he couldn't go another second without you touching him. The cherry flush that bloomed high in the apples of his cheeks swooped over the tips of his ears. He was beautiful. Enticing. And you were only human. Leaning forward, you traced your tongue up the shell of his ear, biting it lightly. 

"That better?" you muttered against his ear. Pulling back, you watched as George opened and closed his mouth, fishing for anything to say in response. He wasn't having much luck, just spitting out collections of sounds that didn't quite resemble words. 

"Come on, baby boy, use your words," you said, cupping his cheek and rolling your thumb over his bottom lip. 

"Yes." His voice cracked on the word. 

"Good boy," you said, smirking like a well-fed cat, "Now, how 'bout we get you out of those clothes. I wanna see all of my pretty baby." 

"Please," he breathed. Carefully, you repositioned yourself, so you had full access to his clothing. You only managed a couple of buttons before his much larger hand curled around one of yours. Before you could ask him what was wrong, he brushed a tender kiss over your knuckles. 

"I love you, (Y/N)," he said. Smiling, you pulled his hand to your mouth and returned the gesture. 

"I love you too," you replied. 

With your hand back, you made quick work of his shirt. You pushed it open and took in the lightly freckled expanse of his chest. His skin was a swirl of cinnamon-colored constellations. You trailed your fingers across them, admiring the trail of goosebumps the left behind. George was lovely. Devastatingly so. Bringing your head down, you followed the same path your fingers had taken, stopping briefly to lap at his nipples. He whined softly at the attention, tangling his hands in your hair. 

"You're so beautiful," you said. 

You kissed up his chest to his lips, and he tilted his head to meet you. His lips pressed hungrily to your own. The faint taste of honey teased your senses as you dipped your tongue into his mouth. You loved that he always managed to taste sweet. Lightly, you ran your tongue over his own, savoring that elusive sweetness for as long as you could. Slipping your hand down to rub him through his pants, you were surprised to find him fully hard. Even though you'd barely touched him, he was straining against his zipper. 

"(Y/N)," he whimpered against your mouth. 

"I bet that's uncomfortable. You want me to take care of that, baby boy?" you asked, popping the button. 

"Please. Please take care of it," he begged, bucking his hips into your hand. Without responding, you pushed his pants down to his thighs while trailing burning kisses down his torso. You pressed a kiss to each of his hip bones before wrapping your hand around his cock. Giving it a few long, slow strokes that had him bucking into your hand, you looked up at him. 

"Tell me what you want," you said. 

"Your mouth. Please, (Y/N)," he said quickly. 

"Anything for my sweet baby boy," you said. 

Slowly, you dragged your tongue from the base to the tip, paying special attention to the ridge of the head. A low moan sounded above you. You took a moment to appreciate the sound before sinking his cock into your mouth. His hips bucked, and you gagged slightly. Breathing softly through your nose, you gripped his hips tightly to keep him from doing it again. You bobbed your head slowly, running your tongue along the vein on the underside of his cock. 

"C'mon, don't tease," George begged, straining against your restrictive grip. 

You didn't say anything but picked up the pace slightly. Removing on hand from its place on his hip, you fondled his balls and teased lightly at his perineum. His hips flexed wildly against your hand. It only took swallowing around him once before he was calling out warnings and groaning loudly into the open air. You pulled off before he could cum, ignoring the disappointed whine. 

"Wanna come. Please, (Y/N), I wanna come so bad," he cried, bucking into the air looking for friction. 

"I know, baby boy," you said, shimmying out of your pants. "I wanna be ridding you when you do, but you gotta prep me first. Can you do that for me? Can you finger me until I'm nice and open for you, baby boy?" 

"Uh-huh," he said, fumbling for the lube that appeared on the table. Turning, you presented yourself to him, so he had better access. Gentle as always, he sunk a long finger into you. 

"That's my good boy," you sighed. As he fingered you open, he pressed open-mouthed kisses to the backs of your thighs. You wrapped your hand around his cock again, stroking it in time with the thrusts of his fingers. Then he curled them a bit. 

"There! That's it," you mewled, rocking back against him. 

"More!" He obediently added another finger. 

"Am I making you feel good?" he asked, his voice hoarse. Whether it was from moaning or just from the idea that he was bringing you pleasure, you couldn't tell. 

"So good," you said. You felt his cock twitch in your hand, and he shivered. 

"Close," he whimpered. 

"Let me sit on your pretty cock, baby boy," you purred. Almost reluctantly, he slipped his fingers from you, and you positioned yourself over him. Neither of you was interested in waiting long. Once he was fully seated inside you, you could already feel him shivering with the effort not to cum. 

"Move?" It came out as a question. Both asking your permission and begging you to ride him until he was shaking with overstimulation. 

Picking up your hips, you dropped them back slowly. You savored the slight burn of the stretch. Hands quickly found your hips. And then you were moving. You weren't sure if he'd thrust up into you or if you'd started this pace on your own. You didn't care. It didn't matter when he was hitting that spot inside you just right. 

"So good, baby boy! Right there!" you cried. 

"So tight. So good. Wanna cum! Please can I cum?" he begged, digging his fingers into your hips in a way that would definitely bruise. 

Pulling his chin up with two fingers, you kissed him like your life depended on it. Tongues tangled sloppily, your teeth clicked together, and the angle was a little off considering the constant motion. Still, you couldn't bring yourself to care with him, whining obscenities into your mouth. Begging to cum so prettily. If you were a little meaner or not so desperate yourself, you'd draw it out a little longer. Maybe next time. Separating with a wet pop, you smoothed your thumb across his spit-slick, swollen lips. 

"Are you gonna be a good boy and cum for me?" you asked. He nodded, hooded eyes staring at you pleadingly. 

"Close, close, please," he whined, dropping his head forward to your chest.

"Cum, baby boy." With a long, low moan, he was gone. He pounded sloppily into you with uncontrolled thrusts, wrapping his arms around your back to pull you impossibly closer. Between that and the sight of his utterly wrecked expression, you went tumbling over the edge after him. Your own shout of pleasure shook the room. Your thighs trembled with the force of it. For a second, you swore, you stopped breathing. 

"Holy fuck," you panted as you came down from your high. 

"Felt pretty holy to me," George said, leaning heavily against the arm of the couch. 

"When I find my brain, I'll say something witty," you said. You let him slip out of you, opting to ignore the mess running down your thighs in favor of laying against his chest again. 

"Anytime you wanna do that again, I'd happily oblige, love," he said. 

"You just fucked my brain across the room while I called you baby boy, and you're already thinking about round two?" you snorted.  

"Should I not be?" Well, round two did sound pretty good. 

"Give me a hot minute, and I'll get right on that, sunshine." You didn't miss the love in his dark eyes as he gazed down at you with a crooked grin. Or the way his cock twitched in interest.  

[busymagpie]

Please share your ideas about Russingon if you are comfortable with it. Your art already says a lot about them and I adore it, but I would love to hear more.

I'd love to!! And thank you! 💕 Sorry for taking a bit long to answer, but I actually had nothing of this written down and I'm sure I forgot a whole lot that escaped my mind as I was finally writing this down. This actually got a bit long so.. yeah. Also keep in mind I'm not a writer and English isn't my first language so this might sound wonky in some parts. I also didn't proofread anything, because I'm lazy

So here are my sfw headcanons/ideas about Russingon

Some general ideas:

Fingon is approximately a head shorter than Maedhros (though I’m not really consistently drawing them that way)

Fingon’s favorite part of Maedhros’ body are his freckles, though Maedhros doesn’t particularly like them. He also loves his hands, because they are always warm.

In turn Maedhros loves touching the back of Fingon’s neck and running his finger through his hair in the back, because Fingon is sensitive to touch in that spot and enjoys it maybe a bit too much.

Going with the timeline:

They don’t grow up together and first „meet“ at a family function, likely held to celebrate the birth of Celegorm or something similar. (With „they first meet“ I mean they acknowledge the other‘s existence for the first time)

Fingon is quite a bit younger than Maedhros and was still basically a child (early teens) when they first met.

They start out disliking each other because the feud between their families makes them believe they should, at least to a healthy amount. Also Fingon thinks Maedhros is the most beautiful being in the world which at first made him envious because of his pretended dislike for him.

They later become best friends and eventually develop feelings for each other, though Fingon for a long time doesn’t know whether his feelings for Maedhros are platonic or romantic. He confesses his love to Maedhros in what he thinks is a platonic way, and only after Maedhros confesses his love for him (which was unmistakably meant in a romantic way) does he realize he was in love with Maedhros all this time.

It takes Fingon to confess his love first, for Maedhros to also voice his feelings. If Fingon hadn’t talked about it first, they probably would not have become a couple.

Even though they try to keep their relationship secret, Fingon tells Anaire about it and also Aredhel who once got very close to finding out about it herself. Maedhros doesn’t tell anyone. Nerdanel knows her children well enough to pick up the hints and lets him know she knows what’s going on. They are all supportive of their relationship.

They marry in secret, but still make an effort to wear traditional wedding attire and make it as festive as possible even if it’s just them and the Valar to witness it.

While Fingon is an outgoing person and always himself, Maedhros is very conscious about his actions, because as Feanor’s eldest son he doesn’t want to disappoint him. He’s created some sort of persona that has proved itself to be liked by everyone.

This results in him being pretty bad at talking about his emotions, which at times is frustrating to Fingon, so he tries to build an environment for Maedhros to feel comfortable being himself.

Fingon openly dislikes Feanor. That doesn’t mean he’s voicing his dislike for him in public or is showing his aversion, but he sure lets Maedhros know about it.

Maedhros on the other hand loves and admires his father and though he knows Feanor makes mistakes or questionable decisions from time to time, he always tries to justify his actions. “He probably had a good reason for doing that” or something along those lines.

So the burning of the ships is the first time Maedhros disagrees with his father and openly criticizes him.

After being rescued by Fingon from Thangorodrim Maedhros feels rather embarrassed having to ask for help doing certain things - maybe even more when he has to ask Fingon. He tries to mask his embarrassment either with anger or with appearing cold and stoic.

Their relationship isn’t the same anymore after the burning of the ships. Too much has happened and they have changed too much for them to just go on as they used to. They are strangers to each other and have to work hard on getting back to the level of trust and familiarity they had before.

With Fingolfin’s death Fingon becomes more reserved and withdrawn, which puts more strain on their relationship.

The last time they see each other is before the Nirnaeth, going over their plans again before their hosts take up positions. Maedhros isn’t there to witness Fingon’s death and only learns about it after the fact. The only thing that still keeps him going is the oath.

[lovely-jily]

potions and locked closets

hey!! sorry this is such a long fic BUT i just wanted to say that i’m also working on this same fic but from lily’s pov lmk if you’d want that:))) thanks and i love you all so freakin much <3

James tried to steady his breathing. His heart was already beating too quickly for his liking, and he hadn't even seen her yet. He was already surprised that she agreed to be his partner; they both know that it would likely be another hour of pointless bickering but nonetheless. Lily Evans had agreed to partner with James for their weekly project Slughorn had assigned. She finally said yes to something.

"Fine," she had said after he asked her, following it up with, "But I'll undoubtedly need help with Transfiguration this week, so if you swear to help me, then I suppose we can partner."

In all honesty, James wasn't having too much trouble with his Elixer to Induce Euphoria, but he just wanted an excuse for Lily to be with him. And maybe if she saw that he had matured at least a little bit, it would make her start to tolerate him.

If that were even possible.

The dungeons were decently empty, but Lily had intentionally reserved the potions room in advance so no one else would be around. Meaning they would be completely and totally alone.

When he walked into the room, she was fiddling with the size of the fire under the cauldron. She was at the desk she usually sat in, the second row to the left, with her back to him.

"Evening Evans," He said, setting his bag on the table and standing next to her, "I see you've started already."

"Well, I actually want a good score on this," She exhaled through her mouth and flipped through her Potions book, her dainty fingers lingering on the words "Elixer to Induce Euphoria".

"I'm right there with you," he said, rolling up his sleeves. He watched Lily's eyes dart from his arms back to her textbook. From what James could see, she already gathered the ingredients and had them neatly organised in front of them.

"Alright, you can start by skinning these then?" She said, swiftly handing him the Shrivelfigs.

"Got it," he noted the way her eyes darted up to his for a second when she was handing him the Shrivelfigs, their skin touching momentarily. While it was only a second, it was long enough to cause James to hitch his breath in an all too noticeable way.

He started skinning the flower, trying to ignore the way her perfume smelled or the curve of her jaw. She tied her hair up in a low ponytail, pulling out tiny wispy hairs that framed her face. He chastised himself for the dirty thoughts that followed, but, Jesus, he couldn't help his want to do the most unholy things to her when she did that.

She started working on porcupine quills as he attempted to pull himself together.

"I wish we got Amortentia."

James took a sharp inhale, resulting in him coughing on his own spit. She, Lily Evans, the same Lily Evans who insisted she hated every fibre of his being every day since they were twelve, wanted to make a love potion with him- James! James Potter! As in the same James Potter that she would shoot daggers at any excuse, the boy she would scold any second she could, the boy-

"It's just so much more of a challenge compared to this one," she finished.

Right. Of course. That's why Lily wanted to make that potion, no other reason, as much as James wanted there to be.

"At least we didn't get Felix Felicis. That takes a while," He ignored the feeling of his heart sinking and his stomach twisting as he finished up the Shrivelfigs. He should've known that was the reason, but he couldn't help but innocently jump to conclusions with her.

"What did Amortentia smell like for you?" She asked, causing James to start jumping to conclusions again.

How do I answer this honestly without giving away the fact that I smelled her?"

"Fresh bread, rain, and- uh- my mother's shampoo," He mentally kicked himself for bringing up his mother, but it was the quickest thing he could think of on the spot, "What about you?"

She sighed, stirring in the quills, "The ocean, my mum's hot chocolate and a cologne of some kind, but I couldn't place where that one was from."

A pang of jealousy beat along with James's heart as he thought about her smelling another lads cologne. Whoever he was, he was a prick.

She shook her head quickly as she seemed to panic for a moment, hastily saying, "Anyways, I'm sure it doesn't matter."

She fiddled with the ladle, brushing the few hairs out of her face. Her cheeks were bright red.

"You alright there, Evans?" He asked as he turned to look at her. He swallowed what felt like all his dignity and pride but was actually just the extra spit that always was around with Lily.

"Just fine," She cleared her throat and handed him the Sopophorous beans, not looking at him, "Would love it if you could start working on these, though."

"Got it," he mumbled as he started dicing the beans.

"No, Potter," His heart lightened a little at the sound of his name in her voice, even if it was to chastise him, "Those are far too small. They'll dissolve too quickly."

"What do you mean, this is how Slughorn does it-"

"Slughorn always cuts things too small, but he makes up for it by moving a little quicker-"

"Well, that's stupid. What kind of a teacher-"

"James," She looked up at him, sighing, and despite her exhausted expression, his lungs lifted immensely at the sound of his first name. She never used his first name.

"Yes, Evans?"

"Could you perhaps go find more in the Potions closet? I think it'll just make things a lot easier."

"Got it."

The closet was cluttered, full of misplaced ingredients from students whose first priority clearly wasn't organisation. After a solid minute of staring at the mess, he called her in to help him.

"What do you mean 'Can't find them'- I just saw them," she huffed, shoving herself next to him in the tight space. James would be lying if he said he didn't do this on purpose but let the boy live. He would take any excuse to be in close proximity to the girl.

"Not sure how anyone could find anything in here. I feel bad for the poor bloke who has to clean this during detention," He said, hands on his hips as she stood in front of him, green eyes scanning the shelves. The closet door closed behind her, and while they weren't any closer than they were by the desks, it almost felt like she was right on top of him. It was taking his total concentration to not think about shoving her against the door and having a long-awaited snog.

"It'll probably be Sirius," she said, glancing at him, a smirk on her face.

He chuckled as he looked at the messy shelves, suddenly shy from her eye contact, "Probably. Maybe we should leave him a note."

They faced each other, her back towards the door and his towards the shelves of messy ingredients. There was just enough room between them for her to fold her arms against her chest, her smile making James's lungs feel extra airy, "Or we can charm the Wolfsbane to fall off every time he tries to put it away."

James laughed, shaking his head as he looked down at her. Their faces were only inches apart, and his heart was beating so hard he was worried she could feel it.

"You know, for such a stickler for rules, you're quite creative with pranks."

She smirked, "I've learned that you can get away with a lot more if you aren't so obnoxious about it."

James let out a fake, dramatised gasp, "You?! A Prefect breaking rules?"

She just shrugged, a smirk still painted on her face. James took a second to look at her, feeling fortunate that not only was he was in the potions closet with her, but she had chosen to carry a conversation with him. This friendly banter was still a little rare, even though they had been getting a little closer lately. Since the incident at the end of fifth year, roughly nine months ago, James decided to get his act together. Mainly for the sake of Lily, but also the threat of war was becoming more than just rumours, and he knew that a war was no place for an immature bully like himself. He was not a person that he- or really anyone- was proud of, and he wasn't okay with that.

James was about to say something when her eyes lit up at something behind his head.

"There it is!" She said and reached her arm out to grab something just next to his ear.

Under normal circumstances, James would've been disappointed that she found it because it probably meant that his time in a closet with her, the girl he's wanted to shag since he had first laid eyes on her, was now over.

However, when Lily reached forward to grab whatever they were looking for (James had since forgotten. Other things had occupied his mind the past couple of minutes), she had subconsciously pressed her body up against his. In a panic, James put his hands on her waist. They both looked at each other with panicked eyes when they realised what was going on, faces close enough that James felt her heavy exhale as she attempted to catch her breath. Her eyes darted to his lips as he was suddenly aware of how naked they felt without hers on them. He instinctively bit them.

James cleared his throat and politely turned his head away from her, trying to reduce the awkwardness.

"Er-Um-Sorry," He said, taking his hands off her waist and shoving his hands into his pockets. Lily's hand was still grasping the beans behind him, and she was staring at him, seemingly debating something. Feeling shy and awkward as she studied his face, James was staring at her left earlobe, noticing the freckle resting next to her small pearl earring.

"Don't worry about it," She mindlessly whispered, still looking intently at him. She seemed to be deep in thought and was not thinking about the words she was saying.

James was just surprised she wasn't showing any signs of being uncomfortable. He would've guessed that she would be yelling at him by now.

"So-uh- I guess we should get-" James cleared his throat as he reached for the door handle behind her. He was nervous under Lily's stare and was having a hard time keeping composure. He wasn't sure what she was thinking, and that honestly bothered him more than if she was yelling at him. At least he knew how she felt then, but he was entirely in the dark right now, "We should get going. The potion's probably been simmering for too long."

Lily blinked and shook her head as if leaving a deep trance. Suddenly embarrassed and blushing, she nodded her head and cleared her throat.

"Right," She said as James tried the door handle.

It didn't move.

He tried it again.

Nothing.

"Well, shit," James said, trying to jiggle the door handle again with both hands despite knowing it wouldn't work. She probably thought he did this on purpose (Which wouldn't be a terribly bad idea if James wasn't so afraid of her), "It's locked."

Lily's eyes widened in a panic, and she promptly turned around, trying the door handle for herself. When it inevitably didn't work, she turned back around and sighed as she leaned against the door, looking up. She groaned and brushed the hair out of her face.

"I forgot that Slughorn keeps it locked," She said, still huffing, "Normally, it doesn't matter because he just keeps it open, but..."

James felt his pockets for his wand and remembered he left it on the desk, "You haven't got your wand, do you?"

Lily looked down as she felt her own pockets, looking back up as she shook her head.

It was then, at the sight of a dishevelled Lily Evans, that James realised that he was locked in a closet with her, and he had a hard time remembering why this was such a bad thing. He tried to shove out the thoughts that entered at the way she looked dishevelled and breathing heavily. The things he would do to be the one making her look like that...

"Sorry, Evans. I feel partially responsible for this predicament," He shook his head, trying to regain self-control. What was he thinking? This was Lily Evans he was thinking about. The girl who never failed to let him know just how much she wanted to strangle him at any given moment.

She said nothing, instead resumed studying his face. He sheepishly messed up his hair, unsure what to do with his body under her gaze.

"Oh, Christ, James," She said in annoyance, biting her lip softly.

"What did I do? I didn't know about the lock!" James said defensively, finding it odd that she was just now getting mad at him.

She rolled her eyes and just looked at him.

"Fuck it," She said, and before James could form a confused expression, her hands were pulling his neck forward, and her lips were being slammed against his.

"What the fuck?" James said, shock widening his eyes as he pulled away slightly. He clearly was baffled beyond logical thinking and reason because Lily would be shoved up against the door if he were thinking clearly. There was no way that Lily Evans, the same Lily Evans that swore she wouldn't ever go out with him not even nine months ago, had just kissed him. Passionately, at that.

"Are you complaining?" She asked, a soft smirk resting on the lips that James was just kissing.

"What-No? Of course not, I just-"

"Then shut up," She whispered, feeling her way from his neck to his tie, which she pulled him forward with so their faces were close again, "And give me a good snog."

"Yes, ma'am," James smirked and tilted his head, pushing her against the door and kissing her firmly without a second thought.

[aajjks]

BC!JK

the girl in question is you.

you and your shy antics and cute freckled cheeks, his angel.

when jungkook describes you to his mother as sweet, shy, and quiet, jihye can’t help but roll her eyes because your description fits nothing she wants her son to have. what good would a shy partner be for him? no good, of course.

are you even wealthy? she hopes her son didn’t marry some ‘outsider’ because that would only disappoint her more. she decides to bite her tongue and continue looking for bachelorettes to woo her son.

“tch, men” she says as her husband and son leaves her to be alone with her thoughts.

⏭️⏭️

“hey danny, are you on your lunch break?”

“hey girlie! yeah, what’s up?”

“can you swing me by my apartment? i need to get the keys to my car”

“sure. you’re at the studio right?”

“yeah”

“cool. i’ll be there soon”

when you hang up, you’re met with an old picture of you and eunwoo together as your home screen. photos of the two of you are decorated along your desk and you remember it all. that beach picture of the two of you making sandcastle and him smearing paint on your face as you laughed.

how long are breakups supposed to last? no, y/n! you said you were going to move on from him yet here you are wondering when he’ll come back to you. you’ve already tried going back to him but it didn’t work so maybe it’s supposed to be the opposite.

your phone vibrates: ‘outside’

you take your purse and head out the school building and there is danielle in her white hyundai car patiently waiting for you.

“hey” you say as you open the passenger door and get inside.

“you excited for tonight?”

“a little. we’re not going anywhere crazy, right?”

“nah. just a local bar. take a few shots, dance and laugh a little”

“is crying allowed?”

“no, crying is NOT allowed. we’re gonna have fun! jungkook can come too if you want”

“why does jungkook have to come?”

“so you both can make-out afterwards”

“danielle!!! we are not having sex, quit it!!!”

“okay, okay but you can’t deny how hot he’s gotten over the years. does he still have a tongue piercing?”

“he is handsome and huh…i don’t know, actually. you think he does?”

“i thought you would’ve known”

“i’ll ask”

“you know, i read that tongue piercings are helpful during oral sex”

“DANIELLE!!!!!!!”

“hahahahahaha, okay okay i’m done”

you both arrive at your old apartment and approaching already has you growing nervous. you miss him so much and part of you is hoping he’s there so you can see him again.

“need me to go with you?”

“no, i got this. it’ll be quick”

at least you hope it’ll be quick.

you still have the key to the apartment so you easily unlock the door and look for the keys to your car which are hanging on the little key rack you bought for the two of you but now it’s just for him.

“milo?” you call for your cat upon your call, he comes to you and rubs his head against your legs. “aww did you miss me?” you coo as you give the feline a kiss and debate on taking him with you but before you can leave with him…

“Yn?”

There you are, with Milo, who is snuggling up against your leg, and eunwoo is definitely surprised to see you this time because didn’t you pack up all your stuff and leave? “Umm yn it is really nice to see you, but why are you back?” He can’t help but ask you this question,

you’re just making it harder for him to move on from you and he just wants to focus on his football career right now but if you’re going to be on his mind 24/7 that’s not gonna help him at all.

You’re looking at him very deeply and it’s getting him a little bit nervous.. are you here to slap him because he broke your heart?

“tell me what’s up?” He scratches the back of your head while standing still, “you’re not here for Milo are you?” he’s not gonna let you take the cat.

Eunwoo loves you and he knows that you love him and you both know that it’s very hard for you to be away from each other but you cannot take away Milo from him. “Yn I am sorry, but you’re not going to take Milo.” he shakes his head because he’s grown a lot attached to the feline and you cannot take him away from eunwoo. 

“Come on yn don’t make this hard than it already is I’m not gonna give you Milo.” He crosses his arms right across his chest.

His smile is long gone.