#because i never get yeses

[kurokoros]

I hate how guilty I feel about wanting things sometimes.

[catboyieejeno]

gameboy :: p.js — two

genre: gamer! jisung x gamer! reader, college au cw: female reader, fwb to lovers, explicit smut, pervy jisung, male masturbation, oral (m and f receiving), unprotected sex, inexperienced jisung, cum play/breeding kink, pet names, slight humiliation kink, size kink, creampie, probably more. not proof read wc: 14.963k

[one] [two]

18+ minors do not interact!

“Is that my cardigan?” 

Forget distraught, forget embarrassed, forget every possible synonym for the word humiliation. Not a single one would do what he’s feeling in this moment even a sliver of justice. Jisung is convinced his soul has left his body, that he’s passed on or that the ground has swallowed him whole. In fact, he’d prefer it that way. He has never felt more panic in his life as you quickly approach the cum-stained cardigan that he took from you, that he pleasured himself with countless times, that he still hasn’t washed…

“You dropped it in class, and I-I meant to give it back to you, you know, a-after I washed it, but then—” 

As you turn the material over in your hands, taking note of and examining the stains, Jisungs breath completely cuts off. You spin slowly on your heel, facing him. There’s an unreadable expression on your face, and it takes every bit of the little pride he has left to not squeeze his eyes shut. 

“Are these—” His voice is no more than a sputtering squeak, “I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry. Fuck, you must think—” 

“Jisung.” 

“I didn’t mean to keep it for so long, or-or at all, really, it’s just—”

“Jisung.” He’s pretty sure you can hear him gulp. “Were you using my cardigan to get off?” 

“I-” 

“Were you?” You ask sternly. 

He sucks in a breath, unable to look at you any longer as the faintest of yeses leaves his pouty lips. 

There’s a moment of silence. A terribly long, excruciating moment of silence where Jisung can think of no way to make this up to you. He’s beyond ashamed, palms clasped together and sweating, face red with horror, inside of his cheek clamped tightly between his teeth, the whole nine miles. So much for mulling over how he’d reveal who he was to you, and so much for all the overthinking he did, all the times he planned out exactly what to say to you and how. Now, it’s all coming to an end because of this damned cardigan. He should’ve just washed it and given it back to you after the first time—no, he shouldn’t have used it at all. His mind is filled with thoughts of everything and nothing at the same time, and he’s already beginning to mourn the loss of your friendship when you say the unthinkable: 

“Show me.” 

Jisung works his jaw to gather some spit to swallow, since his mouth has managed to run completely dry in record time. His breathing has picked up significantly too, at your words and the way they drip from your lips with silky lust, or venom—he can’t tell which yet, since he’s not entirely sure he heard you correctly in the first place. For all he knows, they may be one in the same, and that would make him quite the textbook masochist; to be so humiliated and simultaneously, so fucking flustered. 

The reddening tint on his face pales suddenly as he realizes that he has yet to respond and the seconds continue to pass. With a shaking voice, he chokes out a single word: “...What?” 

There is no beat, no single pause before you speak. Similarly, there’s no hesitation in your words that spill seamlessly from your smooth lips. “Show me how you get off using my cardigan,” you repeat loudly, clearly. 

There isn’t an ounce of playfulness in your voice, much less in your stature, upright and commanding. Your expression is unreadable as you stand in front of him expectantly, holding out your cardigan with its new (and not so new) decorative additions for him to grab ahold of. 

With a heavy gulp, Jisung lowers his head. “You already got me to admit it. You don’t have to embarrass me any more.” 

“I’m not trying to embarrass you,” You explain, taking a few cautious steps forward until you’re but a foot away from him where he sits on the edge of his bed, “If you’re feeling embarrassed, that’s not because of anything I’ve done.”

He gulps again. 

“I just wanna know what you did as you…” Your index finger finds the underside of his chin, tilting it up so that he’s forced to look at you, “...thought of me.” 

Oh. 

Oh. 

For a brief moment, he can’t construct a response, only gawking at you speechlessly as he attempts to process whether or not you really mean the words that are coming out of your mouth and their twisted implications. Then, his length gives a twitch and he fully wishes the ground would swallow him whole because, how could he have so little shame? 

“Ji…” you start, and his attention is fixed on you once more. The heat in his cheeks returns as you brush your fingers through his hair, pushing all the strands back to allow you a clear view of his face. “It’s kinda pathetic, you know. Having me so close and still using my cardigan…”

His stomach churns, his dick leaks, and his hands grip the bed sheets as you use your index finger to push him back on his chest until he’s resting on his elbows against the mattress. 

“If only you would’ve let me know sooner…maybe I could’ve helped you.” 

“You can help me now,” the words are tumbling from his lips breathlessly, “please.” He isn’t above whimpering any more, or begging. You have him wrapped around your finger, you have for the last few months, and he’s pent up and desperate. There’s nothing he wants more than to have you sink down on his length at this very moment—and he can't believe how plausible that reality actually seems. Still, you have other plans. 

“Tell me what you thought about, baby.” 

He gulps, taking a leisurely glance over your body now that the situation allows, each and every thought his imagination previously concocted coming up to the tip of his tongue where it sits idly, unable to be uttered. He’s so embarrassed, so turned on, so conflicted. 

You give him an encouraging nod, casting your eyes down to his lap where his length strains against the fabric. 

“Can I?” 

Jisung nods eagerly, and you pop off the button of his jeans, sliding down the zipper so slowly that the buzzing is the only sound either of you can hear for a second or two. The next sound that echoes around the small dorm room is a hiss from Jisung’s drooling lips, elicited when your hand brushes his hard on. He can tell your actions are nothing less than methodical when you reach for his hand. You place the black cardigan in his fist, then lay it over his lap. 

Then, you spin around, bringing his desk chair over and taking a seat expectantly. 

When he still doesn’t respond, horny and frozen in shock, you smirk. 

“Need me to walk you through it?” 

Oh, God. He could come undone just from that thought alone.

“Please.” He squeaks out. 

“Take off your pants, Ji.” You instruct, leaning forward to rake your nails along his thighs, “I want you to tease yourself as you tell me what you thought about.”

”Fuck, I—” he glances at your hands that rest just inches away from his length, “I wanted you—I want you so bad.”  

You scoff. “Not very obedient, are you?” 

“Sorry—“ he clears his throat, hoping that of all times, his voice doesn’t betray him now. Following your directions, Jisung hurriedly slides his joggers down so that they’re resting at his knees, before speaking up, “I thought about you, what you looked like. Thought about your body in some pretty little outfit like the one you’re in now.” 

“You thought about me wearing clothes?”

”I thought about you taking each piece off, one by one. Just for me,” he adds. 

Perhaps, it’s a reward for his compliance, or maybe it’s a punishment; regardless, you lean back, sliding the shirt he had lent you off so that you’re sitting before him in nothing but a lacy black piece. 

If he thought your breasts were spilling from your top at the party, it’s nothing compared to the way they sit in your bra, constrained by the lace and begging to be held in his greedy palms.

You hum for him to continue, and he has to remind himself he isn’t dreaming. Subconsciously, his hand has begun to squeeze his cock over his boxers and you don’t miss the way the action makes his lips part.

”I pictured you touching me, like it was your hand instead of mine.” As he mumbles this, he slides his left hand into his underwear and gives himself a generous pump, then another, a shuddering breath making his chest heave.

“Like this?” 

Jisung freezes as you reach in to chase his hand, grabbing a hold of his length for yourself. Instantly, he throws himself back onto the mattress, covering his face with his palms as he moans. 

“Nuh-uh, baby,” you scold him, “You have to look, otherwise you’re defeating the purpose.” 

“Feels so good,” 

“I know,” you coo, letting your thumb swipe along his slit. The prettiest sounds leave his lips in the form of whimpers and whines, and he forces his eyes open to watch how you pull him out from his boxers. 

“Can you tell me what I did next?”

”You—fuck,” Despite his best efforts, his voice cracks, “you used your mouth.” 

“My mouth, huh?” You lean in, pressing a soft kiss to his head. Some more precum leaks, coating your pouty lips, and Jisung thinks he may have actually died and gone to heaven. 

It takes everything in him to keep his head up, especially when you wrap your mouth around him. Your nails dig crescent moons onto his bare thigh and Jisung croaks out a throaty groan as he feels himself poke the back of your throat. There’s a bit of drool gathering at the corner of your mouth, and he brings his thumb forward to swipe it away. With the salty taste of him

on your tongue, you blink at him appreciatively, coming up for air with a gasp. 

His dick is so red and swollen that you can’t help the praise that leaves your lips. “So pretty,” 

“You should see my view.” 

His reciprocation only makes you more eager, and you kiss him again. Teasing him is creating a mess between your legs and the only relief is the way the friction feels when you roll your hips against his desk chair. 

You hum contentedly, tongue poking out to kitten lick his flushed head. He shudders and rolls his head back for the nth time, gripping his sheets. 

“Shit, you’re driving me crazy,” 

You bat your lashes at him, taking him into the warmth of your mouth again. You hollow your cheeks to suck on his head, eyes fixed on his and watching for a reaction—and boy, does he give you one. His jaw goes slack, brows dipping down to hover over his half-lidded, glossed over eyes. As his thighs tremble, he watches you intently, wary of your every move you make and anticipating your next one. The sensation of your wet tongue, and the inside of your cheek, and your tightening throat that swallows around him—it’s almost all too much, and it has him using absolutely all of his self control to keep from bucking up. He wants to enjoy this, to soak this in; he needs to.

But his balls already feel so heavy and tight, and when you moan around him, he feels the vibrations in the form of tingles at the end of his spine. He can barely get a warning out quick enough before he’s releasing a load down your throat.

“Oh, fuck—I’m coming—“ 

You lift your head off of him with a pop, but not without sticking your tongue out to catch the spurts of white cum that dribble and shoot from his spent cock. A string of strained purrs and whimpers fall from Jisung’s ‘o’ shaped lips as he sees this, right before his vision whites out and his nerve ends go numb. His arms fall limply at his sides as the waves of pleasure drag on and through him, till he’s emptied every last drop into your waiting mouth.

You can tell from the way he’s shaking that he’s starting to become sensitive, but your hands don’t stop stroking him, nor do they let up on their pace—not until he takes them into his own and grips them over his abdomen, chest red and heaving. 

His ears are ringing by the time he comes down, the only feeling being your lips that kiss at his thigh and the thumb that swipes along his knuckles. He blinks down at you in awe and mentally professes his love and devotion to you, courtesy of the insane head, though on second thought, he realizes it might just be a side effect of post-nut-stupidity. 

“You’re too fucking good at that.” He lets out breathlessly, wiping some sweat from his chest. 

“Thank you,” you laugh. The moment you retract your hand from his hold to swipe at the cum and drool that sticks to your chin, Jisung shoots up, cheeks reddening again at the mess he’s left on your face. 

“Shit, sorry. Here.” Somewhat awkwardly, he shimmies his joggers back on after tucking himself into his boxers with a wince, then runs to the other side of his room where he gets you a pack of wipes, some tissues, and a fun sized water bottle from his mini fridge. 

“Are you hungry? I’ll make you some instant noodles or—“

“I’m fine, Ji.” 

“Ji? What happened to Sung?”

You ponder for a moment, then give him a little smile as you wipe away the mess of fluids on your face. 

“Ji suits you more.” You decide, “I called you Sung before I knew you, like, really knew you. And now that I do, I think Ji is more fitting.” 

He’s lost count of how many times he’s gone red in your presence, but he can’t help it. Not after the way the night unraveled, and certainly not when your cheek presses into his shoulder. You’re still not wearing a shirt, and the night’s makeup has started melting off around your cheeks and lips, but for whatever reason, you’ve never looked better. He’s glancing down at you warmly, lost in thought as he tries to decide which feature of yours is his favorite. 

It’s a pointless battle, and a decision he gives up on quickly, because there’s no way he’d manage to decide on an answer. Your eyes that looked up at him from between his legs just moments ago are filled with the most extravagant mix of light and mischief, and every time they meet his, he thinks he could float away. Your lips are velvet, he can confirm since he’s felt them now, albeit not on his own. Nonetheless, they’re pillowy and soft and wonderous, and he can’t wait for the moment he gets to taste them. 

As he watches you rub your legs together, he’s confronted by a mix of emotions: Firstly, he feels relief, because this could only mean you were worked up, and more importantly, because of him. Then, he’s instantly grieving the fact that he hadn’t asked to return the favor, and now you were needy and helpless. But no matter, because he clears his throat, mustering up a bit of boldness from the alcohol that still swirls through his system. 

“Let me eat you out.” 

“What?” 

”Let me eat you out, please.” he tries again, and instantly grimaces at the poor attempt at rephrasing. 

This is why you’re bitchless, Jisung.

You don’t seem to mind, though, letting out a light laugh as you straighten up beside him. “You don’t have to,” you whisper shyly, but you barely get the words out before he’s interrupting you. 

“I want to!” He corrects quickly, and you flash him a sweet smile. 

“Not today,” You can practically see the way he deflates, so you quickly explain,“I’m on my period.” 

“Oh.” 

“But that just means you owe me next time, right?” His eyes instantly light up at your proposition, and you can practically see the way his pupils dilate.

Oh. 

“There’s gonna be a next time?” 

You feign offense, “You’re already going back on your offer?” 

“No!” he answers quicker than he means to, clearing his throat, “I mean, no. Definitely not. Like, really. I can’t wait. I mean I can wait, but—”

He can’t even process the moment your lips press against his because just as quickly, they’re no longer there. A peck, and then you’re mumbling “good” against his mouth and going in for seconds as his brain starts buzzing. 

He acknowledges that this gesture was to shut him up, but he doesn’t care. His mind is numbed by your taste and the way your tongue glides against his teeth. If this is how you intended on getting him to be quiet, he’d never stop running his mouth. It doesn’t help that he can taste himself; that thought on its own is almost enough to give him a semi. 

You pull away with a small smack between your lips and instantly, Jisung feels himself melt, leaning into your hand that comes up to caress his cheek and mess with the ends of his hair at the side of his head. 

“I should head out.” You sigh, and he thinks he’s never been so disappointed after hearing just four words. 

“It’s cold out.” He protests, trying not to sound too whiny.

“Am I supposed to stay here?” He knows it’s a rhetorical question, but he still has to bite back the urge to ask you to do just that. “You can just lend me a jacket. I mean, that would make us even, right?” 

When you pick up the end of your cardigan as a notion, Jisung grimaces, but decides that ultimately, if it wasn’t for this cardigan, he might’ve never ended up where he is now: with your hand in his hair and the taste of his cum still lingering on your tongue. 

“You want me to walk you home?”

“Please.” 

And so he does, with his jacket wrapped tightly around you. He drops you off in front of your door, with an endearing wave of his hand and the plan to see you again after class on Monday set in motion. 

•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ

“This is convenient.” 

“What is?” he perks up, watching as you sit criss-crossed on his bed, a stack of astronomy books piled up on your lap. You don’t look up, but gesture around.

“We can just study at yours,” you say as if it’s obvious, “we don’t have to worry about booking a lab.”

Jisung hums in agreement, gleeful at the idea that you intend to spend more and more time with him, and even more importantly, in his room.

Here, where he can only remember the way your mouth felt around him, and the countless times he’s pleasured himself to the thought of you. Here where you lay, on his bed, in a skirt that’s definitely too short for the harsh winter season, which could only mean you wore it for him. Here, where if he leans back, he can catch a glimpse of the cotton, light blue panties you’re wearing under the hem of polyester. 

After he returned from walking you home, Jisung collapsed into his bed, overjoyed and buzzing with energy, and so grateful there was no class the next day—Since he was not sure he’d be able to work himself out of bed with his mind still in a haze. By the time he managed to stop kicking his feet and replaying the night in his mind, the clock had striked six and the sun was beginning to peek over the hilltops. 

He can’t stop thinking about what the two of you had agreed on doing the next time you hung out, especially not when your pretty legs are bare and exposed. 

It’s a shame they’re not wrapped around his head. 

Nonetheless, he remains hesitant to make a move because: what if you had forgotten? Or perhaps, it was the alcohol talking that night and you really didn’t intend to do anything else with him—a totally plausible reality, as much as he hates to admit it.

Although he had gotten the go-ahead with you, and his dick is already growing at the thought of how your cunt would taste, his crippling fear of rejection still managed to choke him. A single, suggestive brush of his hand against you could make you uncomfortable, since the line between sexual and friendly intentions is so blurred, and that terrifies him. 

Very quickly, however, he realizes that’s not the case. 

“What do the books say about Castor and Pollux?”

“Well,” you start, “for starters, it’s more detailed than all the stuff we’ve found online.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah. Like, for example,” your leg unfolds from its position tucked away under you, and stretches out to rub along Jisung’s thigh. That’s how it starts. 

“In the book it goes into a lot more detail about the battle which inevitably leads to Castor’s death.” 

He can barely register what you’re saying, because with each word, your foot, adorned by your tantalizing knee-high socks, is rubbing shamelessly over his bulge. You watch out of the corner of your eye as his jaw goes slack, his gaze tracking every move you make over his lap. In fact, the only time he glances up at all, is when you lay back against his pillows and prop your legs apart, granting him a clear view of your panties that now showcase a wet mark. 

Jisung sucks in a breath, “Y/n, I think we should take a break–“ 

“Did you know that Pollux gave up half of his immortality so that Castor could live?” 

To put it bluntly, Jisung really couldn’t fucking care less.  

“Mhm?” He hums, except it’s practically a moan, because now your legs are fully spread, and your leg is restless, rubbing against him with no remorse. He’s fully hard, so hard that it’s beginning to hurt, but he feels stuck in place. 

“Fuck, we need to stop, I can’t focus if—“ 

“We should add some of this stuff to the presentation.” 

You’re playing some kind of game, and he’s happy to take the bait. Your eyes that hover over the top of the book flicker up to his for a split second, glossed over and sultry, revealing just how needy you actually are. 

And so, he breaks. 

Your leg is flung off his lap as he leans forward, settling his shoulders between your knees and attaching his lips to the plush of your thigh. Wet kisses make a path toward your core before he turns to give some attention to your other leg. It’s indescribable, how soft your skin is under his puckering mouth and how riveting the view of you is from this angle. 

You’ve moved the book a bit to the side, giving him full visibility so he can watch the way your eyes roll back for a split second when his big hands push your skirt out of the way, the material bunching up at the small of your waist.

Despite the fact that you’re clutching the pages of the book so tightly that your hands are turning white, you maintain your composure. “When Castor was revived, Zeus turned them into the constellation. Then–“ 

He tunes you out, squeezing your skin like a stress ball as a newfound determination manifests. You’re only acting unphased—the growing wet patch on your covered folds giving you away—and he’s dead set on breaking your facade. 

As bad as he wants to taste you, he won’t; not yet. Not until you’re writhing and shaking and desperate to be touched. 

He keeps working his kisses up to your center, then pulling away, alternating between using his teeth to nibble and tug at the more giving parts of your skin, and licking at the firm areas, like your hip bones and below your navel. 

Him nuzzling his nose into you tickles, especially since you can feel his breaths as they grow more uneven. Your view isn’t so bad either; you can make out the way his hips rut into the mattress and his hair flops as he moves to kiss across your skin. You only dare to steal a glance when you know he’s not looking; otherwise, you’re reading off the page in the steadiest voice you can muster, though your patience is slowly withering. 

When he finally gives any attention to your core, it’s over the panties, nose digging into your clit and breathing you in. His next breath is full of you, and all he can feel is your thighs as they slightly tighten around his head. 

The slight friction is ruinous, and it almost manages to make you stammer over your words, but Jisung interrupts you with a groan and misses the way you stifle a whine.

“Put that book down so I can make you come on my face, baby.” 

“Y-you’re distracting me. We’re supposed to be studying–“ you argue, but the book is already hanging loose in your hands, moments away from being discarded to meet the rest of the pile. Jisung catches this, and he doesn’t entertain your resistance any longer. You’re about to snap, he can feel it—he can practically taste it. 

And so, his tongue pokes out to lick a long stripe from your entrance, up to your clit. His pace is menacingly slow, he still hasn’t moved your panties aside, but somehow, the action rips a moan from your throat and causes your hips to buck.

Humming in satisfaction, he does it again, and the small whimper you let out the second time around almost makes him bust in his pants. 

“Ji..” 

With his arms hooked under your thighs and his palms situated over your abdomen, he hums in acknowledgement of his nickname and presses his face further into you. Your heels dig into his shoulders to tug him closer, but he tuts, flickering his narrowed eyes up to you. 

“Is something wrong?” His tone is teasing and cheeky, and you take your lip between your teeth. 

“No–I just,” you huff out, reddening cheeks filling with air, “please–“ 

“Please?” The single syllable is dragged out, encouraging you to elaborate, but all you can manage is another helpless moan.

“Just tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you, angel.”

“I–please, I need your mouth or–or your fingers. whichever,” you pant, “fuck, Jisung, I don’t care–just touch me—“

You don’t have time to finish your babbled plea before he hooks a finger on the material of your panties and pushes them aside. His tongue darts out to lick your clit, and he instantly, both you and Jisung moan in fervor. When he dips the muscle into your entrance, your essence coats his taste buds, and he decides then and there that he’s never tasted anything better. 

He’s also never seen anything better than the sight of you arching your back and digging your hips down to push your aching folds closer to his mouth. And it works, because he gets a mouthful of you and he begins to suck on your bud contentedly. 

Forget reading about the constellations, you were practically seeing them. 

They swirled over your eyelids when you closed them and swam around the room when you managed to peek them open for a glimpse of the boy laying between your legs. Any time his eyes flicker up to yours, the pleasure peaks, and you have to clasp a hand over your mouth to contain yourself. 

He hopes you can’t tell that he’s never done this before; by the looks of it, you have no idea. Your moans are growing louder by the second, with every swipe of his tongue against your slit, and your fingers have long forgotten the book you were clutching earlier. Now, they tug on Jisung’s hair, scratching at his scalp affectionately and pulling on the locks at the root anytime he does anything a tad too well. 

He laps you up again and again, replicating everything he had ever seen work in porn videos, until your toes are curling and you seem to be running out of air. Broken cries fall from your parted lips, with an occasional call of his name that has him rutting into the bed at a pace that almost provides as much friction as he desperately needs. 

“So pretty like this,” he manages to sputter into your core, and you instantly shiver, pressing him closer to you with your heels—if that’s even possible. 

You breathe out a series of phrases, all incomplete and taking after a whine more than anything else: “I’m gonna–“ and “Feels good–“ and “Keep going–“. 

No part of your brain is composed enough to form an actual sentence while Jisung’s tongue buries itself into your hole, but he seems to get the memo. He devours you like he’s famished, and when his hands reach up to grab ahold of your breasts, your efforts to contain your moans become obsolete. 

Your orgasm crashes into you as he returns his attention to your clit. His fingers busy themselves pinching one of your nipples and his deep hums vibrate at your core, and you find your vision going dark until there’s no choice left but to squeeze your eyes tight and reconcile with the ecstasy that has no means of stopping. For a second, your legs begin to shake, but as the feeling of coming from his swirling tongue becomes overwhelming, they fall limp, held up only by Jisung’s shoulders. 

And he doesn’t stop, until he’s completely sure that you’ve taken everything and have started to come down. His face is flushed red from the effort and a bit of sweat shines like gloss on his forehead, when you’re finally able to open your eyes and take him in. 

Secretly, he’s both surprised and proud of himself that he’s managed to make you come—for some reason, he wasn’t as nervous as he thought he might be under this pressure—mostly put on him by him. If he couldn’t manage to give you an orgasm, he’s not sure how he would have faced you again. 

“Holy shit.” Your voice is thinned out and dreamy, and you don’t hesitate to grab the collar of his shirt and pull him up to you for a kiss. He moans into your mouth, slick covered lips disappearing between yours as you make out with him.  

“Damn,” You mumble as you break apart, “You eat out all your friends like that?” 

His eyes that were shut dreamily flutter open at once, and his brows pinch in slight confusion that he refuses to address for the moment.

 Technically, you aren’t wrong. 

Technically, the two of you are friends. 

But that title is the very last one he expected to and wanted to hear right about now. 

He can’t spare it another thought, because just quickly as the words leave your mouth, he’s lost again in your kiss. The feeling of your soft lips is so invigorating that it makes him salivate, and as he situates himself properly between your thighs. A few brushes of your wet cunt against his bulge and he’s releasing into his boxers with a groan, emptying himself as you continue to taste his spit and your release on his tongue, hips grinding down to stimulate him further. 

He comes hard, considering the compromising position he’s in, but just the idea of his member being so close to your pussy, especially after he’s tasted it, is enough to tip the scale. 

“Mmph..” 

“Feel good?” 

“So good,” he nods, rutting until every last drop has been expelled and his tip is too sensitive to touch. Then, he collapses into your arms that wrap around him, palms smoothing through his hair and down his spine. 

“Gimme a kiss,” You plead softly, and he looks up at you, peeking through the strands of hair that cover his eyes until your fingers move them away. He happily puckers his lips to place a gentle peck on yours. He’s almost smiling into it, until then and there, in the back of his mind, he thinks back to your choice of words. Do friends kiss like this? He supposes they do, in a talking stage of sorts. When the lines between friendship and more have been blurred, as they have here, and some sort of romance is blossoming, friends can kiss.

Typically, though, that blur is discussed and some boundary is set. Considering his dick has been in your mouth and he just gave you head until you and him both came from the effort, he figures some of those rules don’t necessarily apply here. 

He decides he’d rather not overthink. It got him nowhere when he wanted to come up to you before, and now that he has you, he’s sure it won’t help him here, either. 

So instead, he melts into your touch and relishes you until the moment you pull away and remind him of the half-written notes on his laptop that lie discarded since long ago. This gets him to regain focus for the rest of the night, and the two of you manage to get a decent amount of work done without ripping off each other’s clothes. He’s only slightly regretful of that, but the soft look of content on your face is enough. 

•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ

The project had gone off without a hitch. It seemed that the trick to being productive when it came to you two, was releasing some pent up sexual tension; then, your buzzing neurons would reward your efforts and get to work—like the time you met up at the library, just three days later. 

Barely fifteen minutes of little-to-no productivity had passed before you found yourself bored and pressing your thighs together to give your slick-covered pussy any bit of relief. And Jisung, hyper aware of you as always, noticed. It took one lustful glance from him and you were crawling onto his lap, leaning into his side, and nibbling softly on the lobe of his ear until his dick was so hard it almost hurt. His hands flew to your hips, pinning you down until your cunt was rubbing against him. He had barely half a mind to keep you quiet, because the computer labs had no lock on the doors. With his hand clasped over your mouth, you rolled yourself against him until both of you came in your clothes, eyes rolling back and chests heaving with exasperation. That day, you wrote over three thousand words on the constellation—talk about post-nut-clarity. 

The powerpoint that came hand in hand with the essay was an idea that came to be at your apartment. He found out Karina was your roommate during his visit, and she had invited Heesung over so they could work on their assignment, too. It wasn’t long before Jisung noticed your dissipating patience, and the overwhelming relief on your face when the two of them announced they would go grab coffee as a pick me up. You pulled him into a kiss almost instantly, discarding your notes and forgetting about the due date that was closing in. 

All that mattered in that moment was being close enough to Jisung to breathe him in, and who was he to complain? He wanted nothing more than that sweet bliss—sharing your air, tasting your spit, squeezing your skin, making you come.

He was only denied the last of the four today, because as his tongue sunk into your hole and lapped you up, the door clicked and both of you rushed to straighten out your appearances. Karina and Heesung didn’t seem to suspect anything, only mildly reminded the two of you were in the room after finishing their own sweet interaction. 

Karina gasped when the coffee she sipped burned her lip, and Heesung popped off the plastic cap of the cup, blowing the steam away at once and scolding her for not being careful. The scolding was more endearing than anything, and Jisung found himself being jealous at the way Karina’s pupils practically became hearts, gawking at Heesung as he cooled down her drink before returning it and giving her a kiss on the forehead. It became clear as he watched them that you had never really looked at him that way, though he tried not to think too hard about it or the stinging in his heart would get worse. 

That’s when he suggests the powerpoint, which both of you finished that very same night. As a reward for his ingenious contributions, you dragged him out into the hallway to “say goodbye” later that evening and palmed him until he ruined his third pair of underpants this week. 

Professor Hwang seemed to be more than pleased with your finished product, because when she spontaneously announced the scores for the project would be curved, the two of you got the highest marks in the class—and this called for celebration. 

You had to attend your Literature class, but promised to come by his place later, which left Jisung just enough time to do the absolute bare minimum: clean his room, take a shower, make a playlist. 

After his shower, the boy spent the better part of an hour obsessing over which cologne to put on, or if any of the three he owned were even pleasant enough for you, at which point, Mark knocked on his door with complaints about how the bathroom on his side of the hall got flooded. 

“What do you want me to do about that?”

“You’re an RA, no?”

“Yeah, but like, RA’s don’t fix toilets, you know?” Jisung shrugs.

“Dude–then, at least let me use your bathroom—”

“Yeah, go ahead. I’ll call—“ 

“Hey!” 

Your sweet voice calls out from the end of the hall, making both Jisung’s and Mark’s heads turn your way. You look ravishing today, a huge grin plastered on your face and the newest book you’d be analyzing in your Lit class clutched in your arm. Your hands hold two coffee cups, and you stride down the hall to meet the two boys where they stand.

Quickly, you place a kiss on Jisung’s cheek, direct and short but very bright “hello!” at Mark, then step inside his room with a decisive and upbeat pep on your step. Jisung knows why, of course, but as he turns back to Mark’s dumbfounded, and quite shocked expression, the smile on his lips instantly falls. 

“Was that–“ 

In less than a second, Jisung closes the door to his room and grabs the boy beside him, dragging him down the hall and out of earshot from you as he turns back to glance suspiciously at the wall you stand behind.

Jisung gulps, holding him still, “Mark–“ he knows what’s coming, but even then, he can’t mask the dread on his face.

“It was, wasn’t it? Jaehyun’s ex?” Mark’s eyes are so large, they look like they might roll out of his head.

“Yes, but–“

“Are you crazy?”

“Keep your voice down!” Jisung scolds, but Mark just lands a hit on his shoulder, disbelief written over his features. 

“What the hell are you doing with Jaehyun’s ex? You realize he’ll kill you if he finds out, right?”

With a nervous reluctance to his tone, Jisung begrudgingly sighs out, “We’re just friends.”

“Yeah, cause you and I kiss all the time when we say hello.”

“Okay, we’re a little bit more than friends, but–why does it matter?”

“It matters because you don’t mess with your friend’s ex, dude..” At this, Jisung’s lips press tightly together.  He can’t think of anything to say or argue in an attempt to defend himself, so Mark continues, “If it was Chaewon? Man, I don’t think I could even look at you again.” 

“He won’t find out.”

“Dude, not the point!”

“I know, I know. I’m just–“ I’m in love with her “–nevermind. you don’t get it.” 

“No, I don’t.” He echoes, “Figure it out before Jaehyun puts the pieces together.”

“You don’t think there’s even a slight chance he’ll understand?”

“If i’m being honest with you man…” He pauses, and the hope in Jisung’s eyes dwindles as Mark casts his own eyes away and sighs. “No. I don’t.”

Mark gives him one last look before striding past him and to the bathroom. 

Meanwhile, Jisung drags his feet back to his room, only slightly mulling over Mark’s words and the likelihood of their truth—but the guilt dissipates the moment his hand twists the doorknob and his eyes land on you. You’re sitting on his bed, evidently anticipating his return because you aren’t on your phone, or with your nose in your book. 

You’re sitting up, hair tucked behind your ear, eyes wide and looking his way as he closes the door behind him and moves closer. 

Perhaps, it’s the overwhelming lust or like or even love that he feels every time he looks at you—or maybe it’s a bit of his frustration from the devastating inconvenience of your affiliation with Jaehyun, he’s not sure—but he finds himself taking long strides to close the space between you and him. 

“I got you coffee–“

You don’t manage to finish your sentence before his lips are on yours, swallowing down the surprised whimper you let out before reciprocating his affection. In less than a second, he’s crawled onto the bed with you, hands holding you wherever they can. 

Your thighs grow sticky almost instantly as he draws moan after moan from you, rushing to peel off every last article of clothing that obstructs him from feeling your warm skin. It’s not long before you become as ravenous as him, only breaking your kiss to pull your shirts over your heads or readjust so he can crawl between your legs as you lay back. 

When he finally has expended every last bit of oxygen in his lungs, he moves back to take you in, finding that, for the first time, you’re fully naked before him—and god, are you a sight for sore eyes. 

He can see your chest heaving, the action slightly bouncing your curved breasts that sit prettily, spread from laying on your back. Your nipples are eager and perked up, inviting his tongue to run over them, which he takes a mental note to do in just a second. Your smooth stomach, tightened in anticipation, leads down to your messy wet folds, and your thighs, soft under his big hands, tremble as you grow shy and unsure under his gaze. 

“Ji? W-what’s wrong?”

“Literally, and I mean this with every fiber in my being, baby—nothing is wrong. You are so,” he leans down to kiss you softly, completely unlike the kisses you shared earlier, “so,” he travels down your chest, “so beautiful.” 

“You think so?”

“Yes, baby. God,” he huffs, “I need you so fucking bad.”

“So have me then.”

His movements stutter for a moment, and he snaps his head up to look at you. “You mean?”

“Yes.” You nod, “Please.”

When your fingertips dip into his boxers, he nuzzles his face into your neck and sighs out dreamily, allowing you to pull his fully hardened length out. 

“I want you so bad, Ji… Need to feel you inside of me.”

Your words send shivers down his spine so intense that he practically shudders, and he knows for a fact you can feel his dick twitching incessantly your palm.

Jisung clears his throat, leaving back to look into your eyes. 

“Let me eat you out first, yeah?” 

“It’s fine, I just-“ 

“Please,” he basically whimpers, “I love tasting you so much,”

“Fuck.” 

Your legs spread expectantly for him, but he takes his time, stopping at your lips again as if he can never feel them enough. Then, he makes his way down, licking and nibbling, pausing to lap at your nipples as he so desperately wanted to do earlier. 

“Jisung, holy shit–“ 

“So pretty, so good for me always.” 

“Baby–“ you gasp out as his lips come off your tit with a pop, and in an effort to quiet yourself down a bit, you take his index and middle finger into your mouth, swirling your tongue around them and muffling your cries of pleasure. At this, he has to peel your moving hand off his cock at the risk of coming into it. 

He can feel how the layer of sweat coating bus skin, and he can feel the way it’s sticking to yours, slick and wet. 

“Your pussy is so perfect,” he purrs, lodging his shoulders under your thighs and settling down between your legs where he belongs. 

He dives right in, molding his mouth over you in a way that has you arching your back and squeezing your eyes shut. He can feel your cunt pulsing under his tongue, all wet and gushing with your arousal. It’s dizzying, your taste, your smell, you, all of it has his mind spinning and him melting further into you. 

You can hear the sounds of him devouring you, as well as the noises he’s muttering into you, indiscernible strings of praises that have you on the brink of undoing. 

The moment his tongue slips in you, you pull his fingers from your mouth, reaching your own towards his hair. “How are you so good at that? Please, Ji, I’m so close–“ 

“Please,,” he echoes desperately, “come for me.” 

That, and his finger slipping into you has you grinding down onto his tongue and hands, dissolving into your orgasm that he so willingly paints out for you, using every little tactic he’s noticed you like so far, like curving his finger to hit your sweet spot, or sucking on your clit until you’ve got tears prickling at your eyes. 

You come on his face, writing and shaking and gripping his locks for dear life as bliss bubbles through your nerves. You’re soaked and breathless by the time he lets up. 

“So good,” he reminds you, making his way back up to your lips so you can find out for yourself just how intoxicating you are. 

Your hands reach for his hips and tug him closer, and the two of you yelp into the kiss as his length brushes your still sensitive folds. Jisung can no longer think straight, especially with the way your glossy eyes blink up at him sweetly. The realization of what’s to come dawns on him at once. He doesn’t intend to tell you you’re his first, because that’s pathetic and embarrassing, but nonetheless, he can’t hide the nerves. 

“Are you sure you still want to… you know? We don’t have to if you’re not comfortable. We can do something else, yeah? I’ll just take care of myself really quick in the bathroom and we’ll–“ 

“Ji, baby.” he gawks at you. You smile and brush a few hairs back from his eyes, not even minding when your hand brushes against his slightly sweaty hairline. “Who’s the talkative one now?” His cheeks glow at your attempt to lighten the mood, and you kiss them generously.

“I’m so sure I want this,” you start, “I’ve never wanted anyone this much.” 

And that makes his heart beat so fast and swell up so much inside his chest, he thinks it may just burst from within his ribs and land right in your hands where it belongs. 

His head bobs in a soft nod, and he swallows down the spit in his drying mouth. Between your bodies, one of his hands spreads your legs a bit while the other guides him towards your slick. He rubs his head between you, lathering his dick up in your cum, eyes never leaving yours in fear of missing the way your jaw goes slack at the sensation.

“Okay,” he nods again, “Then I’m all yours.”

“Good.” You whisper back.

“Let me know if you need me to stop, yeah?”

Unlike some of his friends, Jisung has never been addicted to porn—addicted to masturbating? Maybe, but that was partly due to his addiction to you. For the first time ever, he realizes how useful a porn addiction might have been right about now, even if it did build unrealistic expectations. Simply because then, he’d know what to do in this situation. The expectation part doesn’t concern him, you’ve already surpassed all of his anyway; the only thing eating him up is whether or not he’ll be able to please you. 

For his own sake, he gulps down his nerves and focuses on the pretty girl lying before him, with watering eyes and drooling lips who’s shaking in anticipation each time his head teases her entrance. He’s twitching in his own hand, clumsily bumping into your clit, but you seem to like that, reaching for and squeezing his arms with every accidental brushing.

And finally, when he sinks into your sopping walls, it’s like a breath of fresh air. 

Your hands slither around his shoulders, willing him closer until the two of you are chest to chest, and his hips push in far enough to bottom out within you. 

“Oh, my god..” The words leave you in a whisper, cock stuffing you full and balls pressing against your ass. The stretch is notable, though not painful, and given that you already came once today, you can’t help the way you clench down on him, making him hiss. 

“You okay?”

“Yes.” you nod, leaning up for a kiss.

Slowly, he starts rocking his hips, reminding himself to slide almost all the way out of you before thrusting back in. That’s what he’s supposed to do, or so he thinks. Your moans start as little hiccups, soft and airy, but as his rhythm continues, they get louder and whinier, and so he matches their pace and enthusiasm, speeding up in tandem. 

After leaving a wet kiss on your neck, Jisung sits up and looks down at where the two of you meet, pushing your knees up until they’re together on your chest. Every time he glances up at you through his brows, you squeeze him instinctively, and the new position just amplifies the pleasure for both of you.

Each graze of his fingers on your face or boob or arm, the weight of his hands keeping your thighs still, it’s all so satisfying that you feel your inevitable orgasm well on its way. It only takes a few more seconds of him fucking your soft, warm walls, before his fingers find your clit and start rubbing it. Instantly, your head is thrown back and you’re calling out for him in pleasure. 

As you come again, Jisung has a moment to take you in. 

You’ve infiltrated all of his senses: he can see you, hazed and fucked out and staring back at him with an infatuated look—the same one he saw on Karina’s face when she looked at Heeseung, and the very one he’s been longing to see on you. He can smell sex in the air—taste you still on his tongue from when it was in you just moments ago. He can hear your loud moans and pleas, every syllable of his name as it slips from your lips. And finally, finally he can feel you, stretching out around him and sucking him in deeper still with every thrust. You’re gushing so much that your thighs and his are covered, and his sheets have grown darker in the spot below where you’re connected. 

“Ji, please–“ 

“Please what, baby? Just tell me and it’s yours.”

“Fuck, don’t stop. Don’t stop, please.” 

He wouldn’t dream of it. 

Each drag of his cock through you solicits a new wave of pleasure, and you’re coming so hard that you’ve gotta grip his arms to keep from floating. Your nails dig into his skin and Jisung moans, pounding into you faster and keeping his fingers at work until he’s sure you’ve begun to come down. Only then does he slow with you, leaning down to capture your lips in a kiss. 

“Good?”

Through tear-brimmed eyes, you blink up at him, feeling drunk. “ So good.” 

He hums into your mouth when your tongue finds his, fingertips losing themselves in your hair. 

“Mm, lay down,” you start, slurring, though he catches every syllable you utter with ease, “I wanna ride you.”

His eyes snap open to find you giggling at his reaction, and he doesn’t realize his mouth is hanging wide until your gentle palm reaches up to hold his chin and close it. 

“Is that something you’d like?” your thumb tugs on his bottom lip, and he presses a kiss to it before answering quickly.

“God, yes.” 

You laugh again, giving him a kiss for his endearing reaction. When he doesn’t budge, still slightly in shock, you prop yourself up on your elbows, pushing him back and guiding him to lay down where you were just a second ago.

The moment your plush thighs settle on either side of his, his hands go limp by his sides. It takes your patient ones to grab ahold of them and place them on your body, one by your waist, the other holding your boob. You keep your hand over his and squeeze, encouraging him to the same, and he does, letting his fingers swipe over and play with your pretty buds. 

“You just dicked me down and suddenly, you’re nervous?” You hum, swirling your hips over his length. 

“I don’t think I’ll ever stop being nervous around you.” 

“Baby…” You coo, wiping some of the sweat from his cheeks, “You think I don’t get nervous around you? Every time I know I’m gonna see you… You should see how long it takes me to pick what to wear.” 

“I mean, you look perfectly fine like this, too.” 

“I’m sure you think so.” 

Jisung starts to laugh, but it turns into a hiss as you sink yourself down on him. The feeling, he realizes rather quickly, is absolutely incomparable to anything he’s even felt or anything he might ever feel. He’s balls deep, completely hugged by your gummy, wet walls. Your skin pressing against his and your weight on his lap feels so, so right. 

“You feel amazing,” he whispers, and you ready yourself to move but he stills you, “God, hold on. Please, just—“ 

“What? What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing—It’s just,” he pauses, looking anywhere but at your eyes. “I-If you move right now, I might...” 

“Oh.” The skin on your cheeks goes hot. Part of you wants to teasingly roll your hips anyway, but the furrow in his brow tells you he’s not bluffing and he really will blow his load if you so much as clench. So, you give him a few seconds, leaning down to kiss his chest until he bucks up into you as a go-ahead to start moving. 

“So good,” he repeats, and you moan back a similar phrase. Each time you take the entirety of his length, his tip kisses the smooth spot inside you and you can’t help but mewl into his neck, giving him back every babbled praise he manages to spew to you though his tightened voice. You start bouncing yourself on him, with your hands resting on his chest for balance, until you feel the pit in your stomach begin to turmoil again. 

”I’m really close,” he warns you. 

“Me too..” 

“Shit, I have to pull out or I’m gonna-“ 

“It’s okay. I’m on the pill.” You whisper, and his eyes widen, “I want you to come for me.” 

He can barely mold his mouth to form the beginning of an “Are you sure?” before your walls squeeze him and he’s spilling himself inside of you. He lets out a guttural groan as he does so, clutching your hands in his as you milk him for all that he’s worth. The sounds you’re making are absolutely delectable and the grip your pussy as on him makes his ears start ringing so bad, he’s convinced he might pass out. 

“Ji, I’m-“ his release triggers your third one of the night, just as you lose yourself in his arms and in the whimpers he’s releasing as he grows more sensitive. You can see his eyes through a sliver, finding them to be dazed and adoring and admiring all that is you.

So you grind against him until you’re both left sweaty and spent, holding on to each other until the pounding in your chests simmers down. 

You naturally collapse on top of him, face near his neck with his hand petting the back of your head. For a few minutes, the two of you stay like this: breathing in each other’s scent and basking in the aftermath of what happened. Both of you are sticky with sweat and cum and spit, but neither seem to mind for the time being. 

It’s only when your ringtone blasts through the room that either of you move to get up. With a heavy sigh, you pull yourself off of him and waddle over to your bag to find the disturbance. 

“It’s Karina.” You announce, and Jisung lays back down with his arm tucked behind his head, admiring your naked body pacing around his room before you swipe to answer and tuck your phone between your cheek and your shoulder, reaching for his shirt to slip it on. 

“Hey… Tonight? Oh, you mean like right now? Uh… Yeah, it should be fine.” You glance over at him to find him raising a brow, “Oh… Oh. Okay, I see. Yeah, no worries. Tell me about it after, yeah? Alright! Bye!” Your shorts are tugged on as you spin around to face him. 

“Um…” You start, and Jisung sits up instantly. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing, it’s just…” The corner of the mattress dips as you take a seat, “Heesung is over.” 

“Oh.” 

“And he and Karina are gonna…” 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah.” 

He remembers the layout of your room, two beds in one open space. It’s a standard room, like Mark and Chenle’s or Jeno and Jaemin’s. The only reason he scored a solo dorm is because he’s an RA for the floor, a blessing at times like this, where he can confidently say: 

“You can stay the night here.” When you don’t answer, he clears his throat. “You know, since they’re gonna…” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah, of course,” his hand reaches for yours, pulling you towards him. “We can watch a movie, or study…” 

“Or…” you tease, “we can do something else…” The moment you climb on his lap, it clicks for him—what you mean. And when your lips find themselves on his neck, a shudder goes down his spine. 

“Thank you, though.” You smile and he looks down at you and quirks a brow. 

“For what?” 

“For letting me stay over. You’re such a good friend.” 

It’s instant—his stomach dropping before the last syllable leaves your mouth. His hands are on your shoulders to push you away and his stomach is tied into a dozen knots as he blinks, repeating what you’ve just said over and over in his mind. For a moment, he thinks his lunch is starting to come back up, too, and he’s sure he’s gone drastically pale. 

You’re absolutely oblivious and confused as you meet his eyes. “What–” 

“You don’t mean that.” He insists.

“Ji–” 

“You can’t mean that. Right?” When you tilt your head, still lost, he purses his lips, and this time, his question comes out with much less assurance. “Right?” 

The disorganized sheets are shoved off of him in an instant, and he’s up and tugging his sweats back on, spinning around as to not look at you for a second. His heart, which he holds his hand over, starts beating faster. 

“Y/N. Please tell me you’re joking.” 

“I–You are a good friend. I do mean that. But–why– I’m so lost, Ji. What’s wrong? Was it something I said?”

‘Was it something I said?’

He hates this. He hates everything about this. The look on your face, the nerves in your voice, the way your hand is shakily reaching for him—there’s nothing he wants more than to forget how that word feels each and every time you utter it. He wishes he could brush it off, and crawl back under the sheets with you and mess around until the sun rises the next day. 

But it stings, and it burns, and it fucking aches that you insist he’s nothing more than a friend, reminding him for the second time now that he can’t have you as his—and that’s the only way he intends to have you, for the sake of his poor heart that beats only for you. 

He didn’t hallucinate. You looked at him the same way Karina looked at Heeseung that night; he saw it, there was something there. 

He thinks back to what Mark said earlier. Friends don’t kiss—and they certainly don’t fuck the way you two just did. If he could just get you to admit that…

“Do you do that with all your “friends?”” 

“No, of course not!” You shake your head quickly, and he can see the offense flash across your features at his implication. Still, he insists.

“Then what are we?” 

He sees you physically deflate, but he retains his composure. “Ji…” 

“You’re telling me that after all that, and after everything we’ve done this semester–”

“Jisung–“ 

“–and after all the time we’ve known each other.. You don’t see me as anything more than a friend?”

“I…” That’s it. That’s the only word you manage to mutter, because your thoughts are tangled together and working against you to, for the first time since he’s known you, render you speechless. “I don’t know what to say.”

A pricking sensation in his eyes commands him to turn around, because simply put: he refuses to cry in front of you. 

“I like you. A lot, in case it wasn’t painfully obvious.”

“I-I like you, too but—“ 

“But you still like Jaehyun?” Truthfully speaking, he doesn’t even know where that came from. But the words have already left him, and even though he can’t see your face, the fact that you’re hesitating tells him all he needs to know.

“It’s not like that,” you start after a pause, “It’s just—how do you even know about that?” 

“It doesn’t matter. I-“ He takes a shaky breath, “Fuck.”

“Jisung…” You mumble cautiously, quietly, too nervous to approach him any more. 

“I like you,” he repeats, “so, so bad.”

“I do, too.” You whisper. It’s no use, and you discover that quickly—the moment you see him tear his doubtful eyes away from you and towards the ground.

“Stay the night here. I’ll be down the hall.” 

He grabs a random shirt from his drawer, since you’re occupying his, and puts it on as he makes his way towards the door.

“If you need anything,” he adds quietly, “just message me.” 

He steps into the hall and shuts the door behind him as you call out his name, storming down the ugly carpet that looks uglier than usual today, until he’s reached Mark and Chenle’s.

He hesitates before knocking as he realizes the tears he’s been fighting to hold back really will start rolling any second. So he passes their door angrily and barges into the bathroom.

He’s careful not to step on the filthy water that covers most of the floor, verifying Mark’s claim that the bathroom had indeed flooded, and navigating the dry patches with his slides to get to the sink. He turns on the faucet and washes his hands, then cups them and brings a decent amount of water to splash some on his face. It washes away the stray tears that managed to escape, and he repeats the process over until his eyes are no longer bloodshot, but not without a few broken sobs escaping his parted lips. 

Whether it’s hurt, frustration, or both, he doesn’t know, but before he knows it, he’s fully crying over you, until his throat is dry along with his eyes. 

After a lazy once over in the mirror, no longer regarding his looks, he treads carefully back to the exit and toward his friends’ room. 

He can hear them through the wall as he gets closer, tapping his knuckles on the wood. They sound like they’re watching the play-offs. He’s not sure, but anyway, he’s never cared about basketball, and he can’t bring himself to care about much now. 

It takes him knocking one more time before one of them hears him, and the door opens. 

“Oh, it’s you. Hey did you call about the toilet—“ 

“You look like shit.” Chenle interjects. Jisung just rolls his eyes and walks past them. 

“Can I stay the night?” 

The two boys look at each other, then back at him. 

“Uh… Not that I don’t wanna have a slumber party but… Why?” 

“Y/N is staying in my room.” 

At the same time, both of their eyes bulge. 

“Oh.” Mark says, but Chenle quickly shakes his head. 

“You have a girl in your room? Like a real one? No way.” At this, no one cracks a smile, “Why do I know that name, though… Y/N… Y/N…” 

”I thought it was going well, though,” Mark inquires, “How did you get kicked out of your own room?”

”Y/N…. Y/N who…” 

“We fucked and I asked her what we were.” Jisung regretfully admits. He had no time to mull over how much detail he wanted to share, but confiding in his older friends sounded more helpful than not. 

At this, Mark doesn’t reply, but the way he purses his lips is more than enough for Jisung to let his head swing down and he catches it in his hands.

”Y/N… Wait.” Having reached an epiphany, Chenle shoots up from the couch, “Y/N as in Jaehyun and Y/N?” 

“I don’t get it…” Jisung sighs, muttering mostly to himself, “everything was fine.” 

“So what went wrong?” It takes him a second to ponder Mark’s question, but the answer sits at the tip of his tongue. The hesitation in actually speaking it out loud—a sliver of embarrassment that shows in the way he stutters. “She k-kept calling me a friend and well, I don’t know. I just… ran my mouth.”

“If she made it clear you guys were friends then why would you ask her if y’all are a thing?” Chenle wonders, raising a curious brow. Mark gives him a shove.

”Because,” he starts, “We’ve been hooking up almost the whole semester. And not just hooking up. Talking all night, flirting… meeting up between and after classes.” 

“Yeah, that’s not friendly.” Mark agrees. 

“She does like you.” Chenle says with some level of astonishment, earning another shove from Mark and a gesturing glare that alerts him of Jisung’s obvious dishevelment.

“Chenle’s right.” Mark says, in a more gentle way, “She wouldn’t do any of… that if she didn’t. Maybe,” he puts a hand on Jisung’s shoulder and the younger boy looks up through wet eyelashes, “she was just a little overwhelmed by your confession.”

“She called me a friend.” He shakes his head, “I just had sex for the first time and she called me a friend.”

Mark quickly interjects before Chenle considers saying something insensitive, “Okay. But you have to remember: her and Jaehyun dated for two and a half years—“ 

“That’s not what I wanna hear, man.”

“—And,” Mark continues, “they only broke up earlier this year. You and her are new, and she’s probably just getting used to that. Besides, you only confessed after you guys… hooked up—nothing was established before.”

“If you liked her, you should have asked her out first.” Chenle sighs..

“So this is all going wrong because I didn’t do things by the book?”

“Yes.”

“No.” Mark glares at Chenle who at this point, gives up, leaning back to watch his game in silence. “I think if you would’ve made your feelings clear before, she might have reciprocated. She assumed you two were still friends because… you technically are still friends. Maybe she didn’t want to assume and have you freak out or something.”

At this, Jisung nods slowly, processing Mark’s words. 

“What are you studying?” Chenle pokes the older boy.

“Engineering. Why? Also, we’ve lived together for two years and you don’t know my-“

“Drop out. Become a relationship counselor.” Chenle pats him on the back. Mark quickly shoves him off and turns to Jisung again who has shot out of his seat with a newfound confidence. 

“I’m gonna go and apologize.” He decides. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Chenle replies without looking up from the screen. Mark just sighs.

“Yeah. Let me know how it goes.” 

When Jisung knocks on the door to his room, he hears no answer. When he pushes the door open, he finds his room empty, with you and your things nowhere to be found. 

The first thing he feels is worry, because where did you go? Not back to yours, because Heesung was there. He knows you have other friends, but he doesn’t know if you’re close enough to any of them to stay the night at theirs, and it was almost 11PM at this point. 

He considers calling you, but if you didn’t answer, he would be shattered, more than he is already at the thought that you might have been hurt by what he said. So he settles into his bed that still smells like sex and you, and curls up on his side, legs restlessly shifting in a failed effort to get comfortable.

He spends the better part of an hour planning what to say to you tomorrow after class, or the next day, or whatever day you decide to give him a chance to explain himself and apologize for some of the things he said. Eventually, he drifts off, clutching to his chest the pillow where your head laid. 

•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ

Absent.

You were absent. 

You have never been absent from astronomy before. Your seat besides his is empty, and you’re absent from class. 

All morning, Jisung went over his speech as he paced around his room. He changed his sheets after finding some cum stains on it as he recited his confession, his apology. He planned how he would explain his mistake and how he would relay his understanding for your confusion. 

He went over scenarios in his head on how to possibly get you back, because truthfully, that’s all he wanted. You were all that he wanted.

And now, you weren’t here. 

Karina and Heeseung were, but the two didn’t even look his way, and had sat near the front of the class—an act which worried him, because: had you told Karina what happened? Did you go back home upset and interrupt them? Were they mad at him now, too?

Inevitably, class went by slowly. Painfully slowly. Unable to focus, all that Jisung could think about was you, so when the bell rang and all the students left the lecture room except him, he didn’t notice. The only thing that caught his attention finally, was your name being called out in Professor Hwang’s sharp tone. 

“Huh?” He looks up from his laptop.

“I asked,” she starts, not too happy about having to repeat herself, “If you knew the reason for Ms. Y/n’s absence.”

“Oh.” He mumbles. As he looks around and notices the lack of classmates at his side, he starts packing his things. “No. Why do you think I would know?”

“Because, Mr. Park, the two of you are attached at the hip.”

“Well, I don’t.” He swings his bag over his shoulder and jogs down the stairs, “Maybe Karina does.”

As he’s about to pass her, Professor Hwang points her pen at his chest, stopping him. 

“When you run into her, let her know her absence will count against her unless she has an excused note. And,” she slides her glasses off, folding them and tucking one of the legs to the neckline of her shirt, “I hope the two of you make up.”

“I-“ He’s speechless, “H-how did you know?”

“Educated guess.” she states simply. 

Jisung nods once, and she lifts her pen to allow him to pass. He heads for the door, pushing it open and making his way to the quad so that he can go home. 

He’ll just message you. That’s what he decides. He’ll just ask you to meet up with you, he thinks, that shouldn’t be too hard. 

But the moment he hits the send button on a message he so carefully crafts for you and looks back up, he sees you from across the huge field of green. 

A smile almost breaks out on his face, because he sees your hair and the pretty outfit you’ve chosen today, layered to keep you warm with a scarf tucked under your chin. But he doesn’t quite get to smile, because you’re accompanied by the last person he’d like to see you with right now. 

You pause your conversation with Jaehyun to look down at your phone, presumably to check the message Jisung just sent you. Without replying, you quickly tuck it away into your pocket. 

Jisung watches as you and Jaehyun stop and sit at a bench on the quad, engrossed in what looks like a serious conversation. 

Now: he doesn’t want to be dramatic. It’ll get him nowhere and he knows that. That being said, he still pulls your contact up again, and writes you another message, rereading the one from earlier, too. 

To: Y/n :3 

hi. i noticed you weren’t in class today…  i hope you weren’t avoiding me. i want to apologize to you in person for what happened last night. can we meet up if that’s okay? Sent at 2:10 PM.

To: Y/n :3 

i’ll be at my dorm in 10 so just pass by when you have a chance. please. 

Sent at 2:17 PM

He presses send and watches, as you pick up your phone again, read the message at lightning speed, and put it away. 

Fuck. 

•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ

Jisung feels absolutely fucking ridiculous. 

Why time seems to circle around you and waiting for you to come over so can apologize, he doesn’t know. The rest of his day is meaningless; he doesn’t eat, doesn’t study, doesn’t shower, doesn’t play video games, doesn’t call his mom, doesn’t do any of the things he normally does. 

You don’t pass by today, meaning you read his messages, and willingly ignored them or put them off. Doesn’t mean he didn’t think about you or thought about you less; your continuous absence gave him more time to think and dwell. 

He’s tired and feeling wide awake at the same time, missing your scent that he can no longer find on his sheets. Maybe he shouldn’t have washed them, even if they were filthy. He’s done worse things, like go to class with dried cum on his stomach, or used your cardigan to jack off. Your cardigan, that’s still by his desk, would have remnants of your scent, but he doesn’t have the energy to get up to retrieve it. And, even if he did, he would probably get hard and he definitely did not have the energy to jack off right now. 

So he tosses and turns restlessly until he passes out with his mouth half open and his leg half hanging off the bed. 

That night, he dreams of you. The next morning, he wakes up to someone continuously knocking on his door. 

“I’m coming,” he grumbles into his pillow, quite literally rolling out of bed and in the process, getting tangled up in his comforter and falling on the carpeted floor of his dorm with a thump.

Jisung lets out some sort of distressed moan before struggling to his feet and wobbling over to the door. His left hand rubs his elbow which braced his fall, while his injured arm reaches out for the doorknob.

The knocking hasn’t stopped, so when he opens his door, his eyes are narrowed with sleep and annoyance. 

“What?”

“Dude, why haven’t you called about the bathroom? I had to take a piss in the middle of the night and I stepped on toilet water. In my socks.”

Jisung only rolls his eyes at Mark, turning back to his bed and plopping down on it with a hiss as the rest of his body feels the damage of his fall. 

“Have you talked to her?”

“No.” Jisung grumbles.

“Okay.” Mark sighs, “Well, when are you supposed to see her again?”

Jisung looks at his phone for the time. “Right now.”

“What? Is she coming over? Should I go?”

“No, you’re good. I have astronomy with her right now.”

“When?”

With a pause, Jisung rubs his eyes as he calculates, “47 minutes ago.”

Mark huffs, “so you just didn’t go to class?”

“Nope.”

Mark steps further into the room, looking around. “Is she supposed to come over at all?”

“Hopefully.”

“Alright, then. Get up.” His eyes bounce around the room until he finds a trash bag behind a clutter of Jisung’s things, then repeats himself a little sharper. “Get up and start cleaning.”

Instantly, Jisung groans, rolling over and getting under his comforter that seconds later, is yanked off of him. He starts to complain but Mark just shoves a bag in his hands.

“Non-negotiable. You think you’re gonna win her back with your room looking like a rat’s nest? Tidy up a bit, man.”

“Okay, mom.”

Reluctantly, he follows Mark’s lead, throwing away empty water bottles and cans that littered his room, as Mark focuses on any other pointless trash like empty packaging boxes. 

“Where’s your hamper?” He asks, and Jisung extends a finger towards his closet. 

“Dude.” Jisung turns to him. “When’s the last time you did laundry? This shit is overflowing.”

“Haven’t had the energy.”

“You had plenty of energy before this week. Here,” he kicks it over carefully so it doesn’t tip, then points at the clothes that litter his room, “Put it all here and go wash it. I’ll make your bed and throw out the trash.”

Jisung has never missed his mom so much. Sure, she’d nag him about his mess for days on end, but she was his mom, so eventually, he’d come home and everything would be tidied up for him. He definitely took her for granted,  that much is painfully clear now as he gives Mark a long look of disdain. The older boy doesn’t budge; he only shoos Jisung away from the edge of the bed so he can get to work on spreading out the comforter. 

Jisung does as instructed, too tired to argue or form a fuss, especially when all Mark is doing is helping him. That being said, he does do it in a very Jisung fashion: shoving all clothes, clean or dirty, into the hamper and literally dragging it down the hall to the laundry room. That includes your cardigan, which he gives one last glance to before tossing in the washing machine. It’s about time he gave it back to you anyway.

He watches his clothes spin around and around in the cycle for two different reasons, the first being that he’s generally zoning out, thinking about you. The second being that he’s making time before going back to his room, cause despite his friends best efforts and even better intentions, he does not want to clean. 

But eventually, those two mix together, and he realizes Mark does have a point—if you came over and his room was a mess, that’s just one more thing he’d be embarrassed about. 

So, he leaves his things in the washer and sulks all the way back to his room where he finds Mark accommodating the clutter at his desk. 

“What a difference, huh?” Jisung wishes he could just shrug, but Mark’s eyes are filled with expectation. 

“Yeah, thank you.”

“Don’t mention it!” He grins, grabbing his phone from the dresser. “I’ll leave you to it. Take a shower and try texting her again.”

Jisung nods once. 

He checks the time and notices that you’d be out of class shortly, and if you didn’t come over, he’d have to stop by yours later. Regardless of how, the plan is to talk to you today, because Jisung simply can’t keep existing with his even-waking thought being you. The minute that class wraps up, he types out a message to you as he walks over to the shower. He makes a quick call to maintenance for the bathroom down the hall before turning on his ringer in case you reply and stepping into the shower. 

For a while, he lets the water run over him, hissing as the temperature fluctuates between an acceptable barely-warm and an icy cold that matches the weather outside. The building’s heating system isn’t consistent or reliable, especially as the temperature drops more and more in the winter months, so he ceases his stalling and washes himself quickly before the water decides to stop cooperating.

He types away into his phone after wrapping the towel around his waist. 

“We… really… need… to,” he reads out his text as he writes it, sighing out the last word, “talk.” 

But as he walks down the hall to his room with the towel still hanging loosely and his hair dripping over his chest and shoulders, and consequently, the innocent carpet of the hallway, his feet skid to stop. Just as his finger presses send, he hears the ‘ding’ of the receiving end. 

Both of you look up from your screens at the same time. As Jisung jumps in surprise, his towel drops, and you yelp. 

“Sorry!” You spin around and cover your eyes as frantically looks around the hall to make sure no one else saw the mishap. He picks it up and ties it around himself again, securing it in his grip this time. 

“No– I–It’s fine. You… You can look.” It’s not like you haven’t seen it before. 

Cautiously you spin around, peeking through your fingers to check before peeling your hands from your face and dropping them at your sides. The air between the two of you is thick for a minute, until you sigh dejectedly. 

“I got your texts.” You smile weakly, and Jisung can’t help but mirror your slightly embarrassed expression. The moment is awkward and bittersweet, and neither of you move until Jisung realizes he’s still standing naked in the dormitory hallway. 

“Oh, right.” He shakes his head and moves to unlock his room door. “Here,” he gestures, and follows you inside. 

You move cautiously through the small space, glancing over at his bed and chair before deciding you don’t wanna take a seat. 

“I came over because…” you sigh again, “well, because we have to talk.” 

The only word he can utter is “yeah.” as he watches the way you shift your weight between your feet, not knowing he was doing the exact same thing. 

“Do you wanna wanna maybe…” 

He follows your gaze as it reaches his towel, and he almost jumps out of it again. 

“Right! Sorry! I-” he huffs, “could you just…” 

Wordlessly, you turn around and opt for twiddling your thumbs as he waddles over to a drawer and finds a pair of shorts and shirt to slip on, but not without glancing over his shoulder to make sure you aren’t looking. 

There’s no hiding the red in his face and ears as he spins back around with his lips pursed. “I’m done.”

There’s a pause as you spin around slowly… and another pause as both of you debate the right moment to speak up. It’s so awkward that his skin crawls and his mouth runs dry. There’s no noise, only the creaking of the floor as he walks to his bed and offers you a seat beside him.

“No, I-I’m okay with standing.”

Another pause.

“Jisung–”

“Y/n–

“You first.” You both reply, and you sigh as you realize you should probably go first, seeing as you’re the one who came over to talk in the first place. 

“Okay.” With a shaky breath, you nod to yourself once before speaking, your voice coming out quieter than intended. “I came to talk to you because… Well, I saw your messages and… I don’t like how we left things off, Ji.” 

“Me either.” He admits, looking down at the floor as his mind swarms him with all the possible things you may or may not say. 

“I talked to Jaehyun earlier. He’s my, uh,”

“Ex.” He says at the same time as you, and both of you make eye contact.

Jisung’s heart pounds as you stand before him, voice tentative and unsure. When you say, “It wasn’t fair of me to downplay everything between us. I just… I got scared,” he can’t help but clench his jaw. He wants to be understanding, to remember that you’re figuring things out too, but the memory of you calling him just a friend gnaws at him. How was he supposed to take that?

“So… was it just comfort for you, then? Convenience? A quick fuck?” he blurts, his voice tight. “Because I thought I meant something to you.” He doesn’t intend for it to sound so raw, but the words slip out anyway, his vulnerability laid bare.

You look up at him finally, eyes wide. “You do. You mean more to me than anyone ever has, Jisung,” you say, looking at him with a mixture of guilt and longing. His heart stutters. 

You take a shaky breath. “I talked to Jaehyun about us.” Jisung’s eyebrows shoot up. You talked to Jaehyun, that much he knew. But about him? He swallows thickly, nodding for you to continue, bracing himself for whatever you’re about to say.

“He told me that… that you’re a good guy,” you continue, voice soft. “He said I’d be lucky if you… if we…” You trail off, biting your lip, and Jisung’s heart tightens. 

“So… Jaehyun’s okay with what happened between us?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nod, looking at him with an intensity that makes his heart race. “He is. And he’s right, Jisung. You’re good to me, and I don’t want to push you away. I didn’t want to call it something more because I was afraid I’d mess it up. But now… I don’t want to ignore it anymore.”

He lets out a shaky breath, feeling the weight of your words. He takes a small step toward you, closing the distance, his hand lifting almost on instinct to brush against your cheek.

“Are you serious?” he asks softly, his voice barely steady. “Because if you’re in, I’m in. I’ve been in this whole time. I’ve wanted us to be more, and if you’re ready, I’m… I’m here.”

You nod, relief and a hesitant smile lighting up your face. In that moment, Jisung’s fears and doubts melt away slowly. He pulls you into his arms, holding you close, as if he’s finally found his way through the maze of emotions you both have been lost in.

In the warmth of his embrace, you whisper, “I’ve got you. And I’m not going anywhere.”

Jisung holds you close, but there’s a hesitation in his touch, like he’s afraid this might disappear if he lets himself fully believe it. His fingers press into your back, grounding himself in the feeling of you, warm and real against him. He swallows, his heart heavy with the months of wanting, wondering, hoping, and fearing. Finally, he lets his eyes close, murmuring, “I thought I’d have to keep pretending forever, you know? Like maybe if I just waited long enough, I’d be okay with just… us as friends.” He laughs softly, the sound more fragile than he intends. “But I was never okay. I don’t think I ever would’ve been.”

You pull back slightly, your heart aching at the vulnerability in his voice.  You search his eyes, looking for the hesitation, the doubt that lingers in his gaze. 

“I know,” you say quietly, your voice soft but full of sincerity. “I wasn’t fair to you. I didn’t give you the chance you deserved. I was so afraid of what it could mean, of what I could lose, that I… I pushed you away.”

Jisung’s jaw tightens, and you can see the struggle in his eyes. “But now you’re here. Saying you want this… with me,” he whispers, his hands shaking slightly as he cups your face. “How do I know… how do I know you won’t change your mind again?”

“I don’t know,” you admit softly, your voice quivering. “But I do know that I’m not running this time. I’m here.”

And then, almost imperceptibly, you both laugh. It’s soft at first, a tiny giggle that slips out between the quiet, and it catches both of you off guard. The sound is shaky, like it’s laced with the bittersweet relief of finally breaking the tension that’s been building between you for so long. 

“God,” Jisung chuckles, his hands moving down to your shoulders, giving you a soft squeeze. 

The smile between you both widens as you inch closer, drawn by the gravity of each other’s presence. Slowly, almost cautiously, you lean in. And when your lips finally meet, it’s tender and slow. 

The kiss deepens, and this time, there’s no hesitation. Jisung pulls you closer, his hands resting at the small of your back, guiding you into him as if he wants to feel every inch of you, to make sure this is real. You respond just as eagerly, wrapping your arms around his neck, allowing yourself to melt into the warmth of him, the gentleness that’s always been there beneath the surface.

His lips move against yours with a tenderness that makes your heart swell, as though he’s savoring the moment, soaking in everything that’s been unsaid for so long. The kiss is slow, deliberate, and full of promise. There’s no rush—just the sweet, simple taste of your mouth on his. 

When you pull back, both of you are breathless, grinning at each other. His hand gently cups your face, his thumb brushing over your lips, still tasting the lingering sweetness of the kiss.

You laugh softly, resting your forehead against his. “I’ve always been here. I just needed to realize it.” You tilt your head back slightly, locking eyes with him.

With a gentle pull, Jisung brings you in for another kiss, this one more playful, less tender, but just as full of emotion. 

You pull away first, your lips tingling, and look at him with a teasing smile. “So, what now?” you ask, a little shy.

He raises an eyebrow, his grin matching yours. “Now, we take this one step at a time, but together.” He wraps his arms around you once more, pulling you into him with an ease that feels natural, “And maybe…” he starts, voice teasing as he buries his face in your neck, “we make up for lost time.”

You gasp out softly, tilting your head to give him room to continue to kiss and lick at your throat, “sounds… good to me.” 

He turns his head, his lips brushing the edge of your ear, “Let me lay you down, yeah?”

You nod, ‘Mhm…”

Jisung pulls you closer, his hands sliding down your back as the space between you both shrinks. The air feels thick with anticipation, and the playful teasing that once filled the room fades, replaced by something deeper, more pressing. His touch is gentle yet urgent, guiding you toward the bed with a quiet confidence, the two of you knowing exactly what comes next. 

The world outside this moment feels distant, irrelevant. There’s nothing but the heat of his skin against yours, the way your bodies fit together so naturally, as he realizes, he finally got you. 

*. * ·

[ghostgirl101]

Hi! I saw you did a obsessed oliver quick, would you consider doing the same for felix catton?

Dating Felix Catton Would Be Like This...

A/N: I would absolutely consider it, and here you are 😎 also if anyone has any oneshot ideas for Oliver or any of the other Saltburn guys then drop them in my inbox, I wouldn't mind writing a proper imagine scenario for them too 📩 next up is more Oliver Quick stuff anyways, so go crazy. Also, why did I find this kind of hard to write? Maybe I'm just used to Oliver's craziness and not this pretty little aristocrat's 🙃

🍾• Contrary to Oliver, Felix's type of obsession would be less murderous and delusional, more realistic, kind of vain... he's a Catton, a rich boy everyone knows and loves, who wants to be him or be with him. He's used to getting his way, learning new things about people until they get boring or get on his nerves, and then life goes on.

🍾• Not this time.

🍾• You'd meet at Oxford, either by coincidence, or by getting in with his clique of friends somehow. Chances are you helped him out on a test or covered for him in a class, and so he calls you over in recognition next time he sees you, to hang out with him and Farleigh and the rest.

🍾• There's something about you that gets the pretty aristocrat interested. Maybe it's just your charisma, your beauty, some definition that makes up you. You're different from his other friends, don't follow the crowd, have a different mind, a worldview he doesn't get. And he likes it.

🍾• So prepared to be hounded with questions over a drink at the pub after classes, all curious but friendly eyes following yours as you summarise yourself, your background, your ambitions. And what are his? Well, he lives in a beautiful estate with his high-class family, goes to Oxford because he can... I never really saw that he made any plans for himself in the film, so my guess is that he's not all that bothered about it. He's got money, he's got connections, he'll do what he wants, like always... so long as it meets the Catton expectations.

🍾• Assuming you don't have the same outrageous luxuries as Felix does, he wouldn't see the need to impress you or get your attention at first, because his status is a given around school and everyone's after him. But if you're not the same as the other girls who crowd around him when they're given a good enough chance, he'll find himself keeping on calling you over, wanting you around for your input on things they do.

🍾• Probably shows off his wealth - unknowingly or not - by buying you something for an unnecessarily high price, like a designer fountain pen when yours runs out in English, and he'll shrug and smirk softly, because it's nothing, don't worry about it.

🍾• Farleigh will undoubtedly be interested in you, but I see him warming up to you instead of being mocking and sceptical like he was with Oliver. Probably because you give off a lot better vibes than Ollie, and treat his friends like normal people, not tiptoeing and aweing of them because they're all rich and popular, but getting on as well as you can. There's something special about you that Felix saw to try pulling you into his circle, so you don't have to do anything but be yourself.

🍾• And when the summer break does come by, you're invited to Saltburn with his closest; a dazzling, rare invitation from the young Catton himself, probably away from others in a nice spot around campus. He'll give you his charming smile and warm eyes as he tells you to come along with them, that his mum will like you because you're beautiful, and that he really wants you there.

🍾• Expecting you to go all squealy and eager with a dozen yeses - if you can manage it, hold that all down to give him a nod and a shrug with a light smile as you agree calmly and casually instead, because that's a whole new response he'd never expect from any lucky person he shows an interest in. How come you're not falling all over him like the whole of Oxford does just by him being there?

🍾• You'll definitely be showered with attention at Saltburn. Elspeth will marvel over your complexion or your eyes or your hair or your outfit (or all of the above). Venetia will probably be grateful to have someone around who has a proper personality that she can talk to and will make friends with you fairly easily.

🍾• You'll catch onto Felix's jealousy over the attention you get pretty quickly, because he doesn't even try to be subtle about it. He'll just shamelessly approach you and complain in his own way that you're his guest, and he brought you here so you two could hang out. His sister's annoying, Farleigh's a troublemaker, so you should probably just stick around him, right? Makes sense, doesn't it?

🍾• Sure it does, Felix.

🍾• He's a nice guy really, kindhearted and sweet enough, but at the end of the day, the world is his to play with, and so are its people. He just needs to understand that you're not a toy... you're an individual, and so if it's going to be anything like his other "relationships" where he gets bored and leaves them to it without a second thought, you're not interested.

🍾• Which is all shock and horror for Felix Catton, because is this really what a proper relationship means? Proper thought and feeling 24/7, staying with that one person instead of having flings with whoever whenever he feels like it?

🍾• So just give him a hot minute to sulk about it over there while you have a good time with his other friends and Venetia, because the more he sees you hanging around with others and being true to yourself, adjusting to Saltburn's black-tie standards but not letting it shape or belittle you, Felix has to actually realise that he hasn't got a whole lot of depth or meaning to his life if it doesn't involve you somehow, in the closeness that he wants and needs it.

🍾• Okay. Convinced. He'll give it a shot.

🍾• I think that Felix would expect it to be difficult for him, because he's used to his carefree, no-strings-attached game of life instead of anything serious. But it'd come easier than he'd think. Other people just don't interest him as much as you, simply because they're not you. They don't have the same little... thing. Girls trip over his feet and cling to him, everyone wants to be his mate, to try to fit into his rich lifestyle, but you do it all effortlessly, and it's puzzling.

🍾• And so hot

🍾• Felix would be casual and open with PDA, since everyone will come to grips with the two of you being an item after you've been dating for over the span of a few solid days. An arm slung around your shoulder, messing with your hair with a fond, teasing look, linked fingers under the table. Nine out of ten times, he'll beat you to it and reach out to you first, because whatever he says, there's a needy boy in him somewhere 😏

🍾• This guy was a complete playboy before you, so needless to say, when you're getting real close, Felix has a pretty good grasp of what he's doing, and he'll do it right. Petnames too, of course, Surprisingly - but unsurprisingly - things like darling and beautiful, but he'd probably try to make a nickname out of your name and shorten it to give you one, finding it funny if you give him a mildly annoyed and amused look because it sounds weird.

🍾• He'll be all bright eyes and grinning proudly as he takes you to his parties, to have dinner with his parents, who get on with you wonderfully, because you're polite but not a suck-up like everyone else, and can hold a good conversation with them while looking over their shallow spins on things.

🍾• Honestly though, from what I saw of Elspeth, she made me laugh out loud a good couple of times from watching, so being friends with his mum wouldn't be a bad thing at all. And Felix would like to see you getting along with his family, because it just proves that you're a perfect fit, like he knew you were.

🍾• You'd make a friend for life in Venetia if you tried to comfort and genuinely help her with her insecurities and problems, not play her like the rest... I felt so bad for her tbh

🍾• You'll never want any material thing ever again, because his money can buy pretty much anything you want. I'm pretty sure his family would give you some kind of allowance when you're serious with Felix anyway, since they can see it in him that he's serious about you too, and the whole relationship is a great step he's made in his life. Any financial support you need, you've got it. Don't even mention liking the look of something in a shop window, because chances are you won't get the item, you'll part-own the store 😭

🍾• So, basically, you don't just get a gorgeous young aristocrat who finds every little unique, original thing about you fascinating and attractive, you get the whole of Saltburn as your second home. Just try to make friends with Duncan, and you'll probably get all the dirt on them too lmao- he'd get on better with you than he did with Oliver anyway, since he apparently was the first and only one in the household to realise that there was something off about Oliver.

🍾• Ohhh, and if we're getting to the twisted-up subject of Oliver Quick...

🍾• Let's just say that it could go two ways. Either he'll be obsessed with the both of you, and treat you the same way he treats Felix, looking up to him with intense, wide ocean green eyes, shadows after him in the hallways after dark. Or, once he's done destroying Felix... his obsessive, delusion-spiked gaze will flick straight over to you.

🍾• Either way, steer clear, that's all I can tell you.

[gabberpopsexclusive]

pegging joost has been living in my head rent free this week ˎˊ˗

just imagine subby joost expiriencing it for the first time ever aaaaaah, cleanse me with holy water ( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜;) 

anon you are just like me for REAL pegging him will never leave my mind

pegging him for the first time is so adorable, his little subby self just can't process the pleasure he's getting from u!!

he can barely answer you when you ask him if he feels good, or when you tell him how good he's doing, all he can really do is moan out small yeses and thank yous, the rest of the time hes whining and moaning uncontrollably

i just know his moans are the most adorable thing in the world, while also simulatneously being the hottest thing in the world.

i feel like he cums quickly the first time, just because its his first time and its really really overstimulating to take u like that.

id like to think after the first time he's more willing to ask you to do it again, and he isn't as nervous as he was the first time

hes so sweet, i need to be so nice to him and cuddle him nd just tell him what a good job he did for me <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

all the people who asked for pegging. here is your pegging.

[palmettoshenanigans]

You know what I want?

Well I'm getting ahead of myself already. You know what I like?

I like those fics where someone says something untoward about Andrew (usually about his character, usually in reference to violence, and sometimes in reference to be worried about Neil's domestic safety) and Neil just,,, immediately starts tango-ing with his instinct to commit violence (sometimes an immediate 'oh. i gotta kill them now' or 'they mean well and also don't understand, don't kill them don't kill them don't-').

I also like those fics where Neil confronts his ability to be violent, but in a way that contains too much willingness and not enough shame, thus triggering his Wesninski Prodigal Son Issues (best when it's because his violence comes from either survival instincts or protective instincts - 'better them over me/my family').

With that in mind, you know what I want? I want a post-canon fic that is a big character study on Neil's capacity for fatal violence vs his desire to preserve life. First half of the fic being the tragic "Am I really my father's son?" angst where the person who keeps helping him through it is Andrew. Probably someone said something Quite Accurate But In Bad Faith about Neil in the media, which gathered attention, and it hit home harder than anticipated and now Neil is spiraling.

Do this a few times, Rule Of Threes and all that.

Then have a scene where Andrew does some violence (someone says something sexual about anyone under Andrew's umbrella of 'I care about this person but don't tell anyone I said that') and Neil stops him from doing something *clears throat* Not Great When Caught On Camera, and as a consequence someone expresses something about Andrew.

And Neil? Responds accordingly. Very Wesninski coded (I refrain from saying Nathaniel coded because that one fic somewhere on my pinned post convinced me that Nathaniel was never a cold blooded violent type - that was never his purpose. Nathaniel takes hits and survives them, he gets cut and makes sure he doesn't bleed out, he gets cornered and finds an out to run through. Nathaniel was never a predator, he was always prey, and that's why Nathan always saw him as a failure because Wesninski's were always supposed to be Apex Predators- but i digress)

Cue Neil unrepentantly embracing being Very Very Scary and later Andrew asks him how that little show is holding up with his issues. Neil shrugs and spouts some unintentionally romantic shit about not letting shit slide in regards to besmirching Andrew's character in front of his face. Cue Andrew saying something about 'Wesninski's would never commit violence out of protective affection. Only a Josten would do that.'

and suddenly Neil's spiraling is over via the power of Realizing Things, there's some banter about letting each other fight their own battles, Andrew says he hates him, questions get whispered and yeses get exchanged and lips get locked and other things get extracurricularly activitied-

Yea, that's what I want

[acourtofthought]

It seems that Elriels are coddling Elain too. Way too much.

Well- I see the stark difference between how Gwynriels treat Gwyn and Elriels treat Elain. While obviously they headcanon constantly of Azriel worshiping Gwyn and all that, they still acknowledge that they both aren't close now. That we'll first see them challange each other and that there's much to do before unlocking the level of trust. Although Gwynriel might be mates, there will be times in which they'll probably be cold to each other. It's a high possibility that Azriel will at least try to push her off, not wanting to share something personal about himself to someone he isn't even friends with. It's not bad, it should be part of their story. It's realistic that way. Gwynriels want an on page love story in which they want to see their relationship fully boom in one book.

But Elriels are convienced Azriel and Elain are in love. That Elain wants him and Azriel wants her despite what the bonus chapter says from Azriel's point of view. They're convienced that Azriel is basically a total simp for Elain, that he'd never even dare to underestimate and he already trusts her and so on... which is not canon. They explain Azriel's lack of feelings for her from the bonus chapter away. "Azriel hadn't thought of anything beyond fantasies cause he's scared of the future!" That wasn't included in his thought process. "Sexual attraction is normal" no one claims otherwise. "Azriel was willing to go on his knees for her" yes, to get the chance to taste her, not marry her. Attraction ≠ love. "If Azriel only wanted her for the mating bond, why would he go after a mated girl?" Azriel explained it himself: 3 brothers x 3 sisters. "4 books of build up" 4 books of suppose build up and he couldn't think of Elain as a person? And then they explain away the entire gwynriel half with the "Gwyn is evil" argument.

It's not just that, but they can't take the slightest inconvenience when it comes to Elain. You challange or insult her? You're evil. Oh, Elain looks uncomfortable? You're evil, even though you haven't done anything. You're telling the love of her life to stay away from her? You're evil. The love of her life is talking to you instead of her? You're evil.

I don't know how to explain it but it seems that Elain has no flaw and everything that is inconvenient in their eyes is evil. I don't ship Elriel, but if they were endgame, I'd at least want to see Elain get challanged or have some problems with Azriel (like what I had listed in for the Gwynriel part) or Elain herself having problems.

For example, Elain's friends. I don't see the wraiths ever challange Elain. The inner circle aren't pushing her either. They're just content with the soft and kind girl she is. And staying in the Night court for the rest of her life to be with her family? Idk about that...

But the BoE? Jurian and Vassa don't seem to be the coddling type at all. I can imagine Vassa coming off as mean to her and Jurian talking to her like everything is a joke to him and I can imagine Elain getting frustrated with that. They probably would challange her. Lucien would.

I guess they don't like that. Everyone has to be nice and friendly with Elain. That... isn't good for her growth.

I wouldn't go as far as to say that they don't care about Elain and are just self inserting. Their problem is that they love her and Elriel too much.

ALL the yeses. I'm going to copy and paste your different comments to address them: "It seems that Elriels are coddling Elain too. Way too much." Fully agree. Elain, in their eyes, needs protected from everything. She needs protected from Jurian because god forbid she be allowed to confront him face to face if she has a problem with something he said years ago (something she wasn't even around for), giving him the chance to explain how horrible he felt for making those comments but he needed Hybern to believe he hated the IC and giving her a chance to demonstrate empathy and undertanding. Elain in their eyes needs protected from Lucien and his looks that occur once every few months because she's too delicate to vocalize if it bothers her, that his presence bothers her. Elain in their eyes needs protected by Az and Nesta because there is absolutely nothing wrong with the fact that neither gave her credit for anything she did in the war. Not saving Az's life with the hounds, not for saving Briars life, Nesta's life, Cassian's life, for stopping the King. Honestly, they turn her into such a child it's concerning considering the very adult headcanons they have for when it comes to Az. And you're right, Gwynriels and Elucien's have no problem with Gwyn and Elain having it out with Az or Lucien. Two characters sitting around talking about surface level things suddenly declaring they're in love simply because Az gave Elain a dagger then listened to her talk about gardens leading to an almost makeout session after avoiding one another for a year is not even close to how Sarah writes her pairings. We want the real and the raw up front and that is when the characters can begin to fall, because that's when they'll have seen each other at their worst and will still want each other anyway.

"If Azriel only wanted her for the mating bond, why would he go after a mated girl?" This is how it all went. Az obsessed over Mor for centuries. Elain came into his life and he continued to obsess over Mor, with Rhys even saying he's been waiting for a mating bond to snap between them. He gave Elain TT and he continued to obsess over Mor. Mor continues rejecting Az and then one Solstice Elain gets Az a gift though that same evening he looked at Mor with heat and yearning. Mor heads to bed and Az ends up staying downstairs to listen to Elain talk about her gardens. Mor is then sent away to the continent for months at a time and suddenly Az does not have her to obsess over anymore so he turns his attention to Elain because she's there, she's single, she isn't paying attention to her mate, she got Az a gift last year and because his brothers are now getting paired off with two sisters. Az grows more jealous of his brothers being part of the "I got a sister" club while he was left out of having a mate so he naturally begins to wonder why it worked out that way? Why didn't he get the third sister when there were three of them and there are three brothers and Elain doesn't seem interested in Lucien? What if the mother was wrong because that math seems too perfect to Az. It's never been about Az having real feelings for Elain but of circumstance and his wondering why he didn't get what everyone around him got. First Mor's continued rejection of him, then Mor's absence from the NC, then of the realization that he got left out of what his brothers were given. I always thought the "Az questioned his religion for Elain!" statements were a bit strange. I'm agnostic but if you are religious....is it a good thing to be questioning your god / goddess / deity? I mean, yes, if that deity is written to be an asshole spreading hatred it would be a good thing but the Mother seems to be written as a positive force so Az questioning her seems to be a problem with Az losing his faith and learning to accept that the Mother knows better than him? That's kind of the theme of this book, isn't it? That the Mother is the guiding force of these characters and you shouldn't be pissy just because she didn't instantly give you the things others are getting? "I don't know how to explain it but it seems that Elain has no flaw and everything that is inconvenient in their eyes is evil." YES! You know a ship is problematic when all the good guys in this series are suddenly the bad guys simply because of their proximity to E/riel. Az shows admiration for Gwyn? She's EVIL! Elain might meet Jurian one day because he's her mate's friend who also lives with Vassa who Elain had a vision of? Jurian is VILE! Rhys prevented Az from using Elain like a sex doll when he couldn't even admit to thinking of a future with her or being over Mor? Rhys is an ASSHOLE for keeping two lovers apart (though I missed the memo on Elain having any actual feelings for Az). Lucien treats Elain with nothing but respect, allowing her to do whatever it is she wants with whoever she wants? Sarah should just KILL Lucien!!! Literally, every single character is suddenly an obstacle for E/riel. When has Sarah ever written something like that? Relationships that are meant to be are written so that the friends and family are supportive. Rhys had major issues with Nesta because of Feyre yet he still found a way to push Cassian and Nesta together. The fact that it's been books and the IC still has not brought out the best of Elain despite her attempts at fitting in just proves to me that she's not found her people. The clues the author has left us regarding the people Elain will most likely have a connection to in the future (Helion, Eris, Jurian, Vassa), will bring out the side of Elain that finally shows everyone why Sarah wanted to write a book about her.

[justmystyles]

Do you think you might make a part two for ‘Home Stretch’? I can totally see it happening where reader comes back after those two weeks, the same ritual happens after the show (and we all know H will be exhausted mentally and physically from it being the last show), she’s unsure of taking an ice bath because she feels insecure after the birthday celebrations and H calms her down and they do it together with him guiding and helping her through it?

pulling double duty and also answering this ask:

Crossing the Finish Line

read my other work here!

this is a sequel to Home Stretch.

pairing: Harry Styles x plus size reader

word count: 1.8k

summary: after the final show, Harry charms you into making good on a promise you made last time you were together.

a/n: i'm digging through my asks again, this time i'm focusing on the more time sensitive topics, so i've got a couple of final show pieces, and i'm also still sitting on a daylight video request, so i'm hoping to have all of those out this week at some point.

thank you to both of these lovely anons for sending your asks. this became a little more emotional than i had planned, but i'm really happy with how it turned out. and of course, any time i get to use that picture, it's a good day!

tags: @allthelovehes @ameerakane20 @ash-craze @bethanysnow @blue-ballad @blueraspberryreader @brightlightsinlife @creativelyeva @cute-as-ducks420 @deannaard @fanficismydrug @gem1712 @golden-hoax @gothmingguk @groovychaosavenue @hillzrry @iceebabies @indierockgirrl @jerseygirlinca @jng4kook @jooniesbabie @kaverichauhan @laurxn-robinson @lexiecamposv @mrs-anna-styles211994 @n0vaj3an @potterheadandsherlocked @rach2699 @ravenclawdirectioner @stylesfeverr @superchrystaldrug @tenaciousperfectionunknown @tiaamberxx @thechaoticjoy @theekyliepage @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @youknowwhaaat

You can’t help the smile plastered on your face and the tears welling in your eyes at the sight before you. Your boyfriend is surrounded by the people that mean the most to him in his life, celebrating the successful and emotional end to Love on Tour. 

As the cheers and laughs start to ebb, Harry locks eyes with you, crooking his finger, beckoning for you to come closer. You immediately comply, and he pulls you into his arms. “How does it feel?” You ask, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“Not sure yet,” he shrugs. “I don’t think it’s fully sunk in.” 

You nod in understanding, the adrenaline was still running through him. It wasn’t likely to wear off any time soon, considering you were about to go out and celebrate for the next several hours. Harry squeezes your hip gently before releasing you and grabbing your hand. 

“Come with me.” He tugs your hand and pulls you away from the crowd and down the hallway. 

“Where are we going?” You ask as he hurries you toward his dressing room. “Everyone’s back there.”

“I know, but I haven’t had a chance to have you all to myself yet,” he smirked, as you reached the door to his dressing room. “Besides, I have a surprise for you.”

You eyed him curiously, he planted a kiss on your forehead and opened the dressing room door leading you straight through to the bathroom where there were two large tubs set up with ice water. 

“Harry,” you said cautiously. “Why are there two tubs?” 

A sly grin overtook his face, he knew you’d ask. “Last time I saw you, you said you’d do the last one with me.” 

“I said maybe, I never promised anything.” You removed your hand from his, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“I know,” he said, stepping closer. “But I also know how to turn your maybes into yeses.” He placed his hands on your hips, leaning down and leaving a trail of kisses down your neck. “Would you really deny me, the man you love, tonight of all nights?” He mumbled in between kisses. 

You groan, arching into his touch, knowing you’re one brush of his lips away from giving in. “Harry, I can’t.” You step back, putting some distance between the two of you. “We’re going out, I can’t walk around with dripping underwear all night.” Harry arched a suggestive brow at your words. “Oh shut up, you know what I mean.” 

“Lucky for you, I thought ahead, I brought you a spare set.” He grinned, walking over to his Pleasing tote and lifting it proudly in the air. 

You narrowed your eyes. “You went through my underwear when I wasn’t looking?” He smiled sheepishly. “Creepy.” You chuckled. 

“Now you have no excuses.” 

“It’s too cold.”

“You’ll get used to it in no time. Besides, it’s only a few minutes.” 

“Harry.” 

“Y/N.” He noticed your expression change, and he switched from playful to serious. “Hey,” he stepped up to you, taking your hands. “You know I’d never make you do anything you’re uncomfortable with. If you really don’t want to, it’s okay. I just missed you, and it’s the last night of the tour, so I wanted to do something special with you.” 

You sigh deeply. “I just, I don’t know… it’s stupid.” 

“Tell me princess, I’m sure it’s not stupid.” He places a hand on your cheek, preventing you from dropping your gaze. 

“I’m not feeling super great about how I look right now,” you said, eyes locked on Harry’s as his brow rounded. “I went kind of overboard with my family last weekend, stuff hasn’t been fitting right and I don’t know, just the idea of stripping down in front of you right now…”

Harry’s eyes were wide at your confession. “Baby,” he stroked his thumb over your cheek. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this?” 

“You’ve had so much going on, I didn’t need to burden you with my dumb issues.” You blinked rapidly, trying to hold back your tears. 

“Don’t do that, Y/N.” Harry’s tone was tender yet stern. “You are never a burden to me, and your feelings are always valid.” He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. “And you’re always beautiful and perfect.” He kisses the top of your head. 

You stay like that in silence for a few moments, feeling the comfort of Harry’s embrace. In that time, you let Harry’s words sink in, wondering why you thought he would have reacted any differently. Since the day that you met him, he’s always made you feel better about your insecurities. In a room full of people, he looks at you like you’re the only one there. Of all of the people in the world, Harry was the last one you needed to feel embarrassed around. He was your safe space. Your sanctuary. 

Harry finally pulled back, looking you in the eyes with a soft smile. “Would you at least sit with me while I do mine?” 

You stay silent for a beat, thoughts running through your head, until you finally make your decision. “I’ll do it with you.” You said softly. 

“It’s alright, baby you don’t –”

“No,” you place your hand on his cheek and smile up at him. “I want to. I like that you get me out of my comfort zone, and get me to try new things.” 

“Are you sure? What about how you’re feeling?” He asked, wanting to make sure he wasn’t pressuring you into anything. 

You shook your head. “Those are my insecurities, but I know that you would never see that in me. You only see the good things.”

Harry kissed your palm, which was still resting on his cheek. “That’s because there are only good things, my love.” 

You leaned up, placing a soft kiss on his lips before pulling back and grabbing the hem of your shirt. Harry’s hands rest over yours. “May I?” You nod and remove your hands as he begins to undress you, slowly kissing every inch of newly exposed skin. 

As his lips trail up your stomach, you run your fingers through his hair, still damp with sweat from the show. When he reaches your bra, he places a soft kiss on the exposed curve of each of your breasts. “So beautiful,” he mumbles against your skin, tossing your shirt to the floor. 

His hands move to the waistband of your pants, his eyes meeting yours in question. You nod in permission, and his hands move down your legs. His body follows, dropping to his knees in front of you. He maintains eye contact with you as he kisses up your leg, determined to make you feel wanted and loved. 

Once he felt he had doted on you enough, he stood and offered his hand to you. “C’mon pretty girl, I’ve got you.” He leads you to one of the tubs. “Okay baby, I know your instinct is going to be to just get in there, but I need you to go nice and slow for me, and take nice deep breaths. Just like this,” he inhales deeply through his nose, blowing it out of his mouth. “Try it with me?” 

You take a few deep breaths along with Harry as he looks at you with adoration in his gaze. When you feel ready, you lift your foot, dipping your toe gently. 

“Fuck!” You immediately recoil at the sensation. 

Harry couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped him. “It’s alright baby, you’ve got this.” 

You give Harry a determined nod and return your foot to the tub, lowering it completely as you maintain your deep breaths. You continue to lower yourself into the tub, soothed by the constant words of affirmation Harry is showering you with. 

“Oh wait, hold on one second princess.” Harry stops you as you're about to sit down. He steps behind you, lifting your hair up. “Don’t want to get that wet,” he whispers in your ear. “I know how long it took you, and it looks so pretty.” He kisses you sweetly on the cheek as you continue to lower down. He’s careful to drape your hair over the back of the tub, ensuring it stays dry. 

You close your eyes, the deep breaths continuing as you let the cold wash over you. Your hands grip the sides of the tub with white knuckles, as if it will bring you some relief. 

“You’re doing so good, baby.” Harry coos as he kisses the top of your head. “Do you want a distraction?”

Though externally you’re freezing, the care he’s taking with you lights your insides on fire. “God yes, please Harry.” Your voice wavers as your teeth chatter.

“Okay, you’ve gotta open your eyes for me, can you do that?” You open your eyes, watching Harry as he moves to stand in front of your tub. “Good girl.”   

You watch as he unbuckles his pants and lowers them down his legs. You are unable to stop the laughter that escapes you at the sight. 

His head snaps over to look at you, his brow arched. “That’s not the reaction a man hopes for when he performs a striptease for his girlfriend.” 

“Sorry,” you titter as the laughter subsides. “Just to be so full of yourself that you think taking your pants off will distract me, it’s… it’s funny.” 

He approaches you, leaning forward and placing his hands on the sides of your tub to get close to your face. “Are you thinking about how cold you are right now?” 

“No, just how silly you are.” 

“I was going for sexy, but either way, it worked.” He said with a sly smirk. “See my love, it’s not that I’m full of myself, it’s that I know you so well.” He closed the gap, placing a quick kiss on your lips. “And I know what distracts you.”

“Okay, now I’m thinking about how sexy you are.” You lean forward, kissing him again. 

He laughs with his lips still pressed against yours before standing and moving to the tub beside you. You watch as he takes a few breaths and steps into the frigid water, taking a seat with ease. 

“Damn, you’re good at that.” You say as he lays his head back, adjusting to the temperature. 

“It comes with practice,” he shrugs. “You’ll get there eventually.” 

“Bold of you to assume I’m ever doing this again.” You keep your eyes on him, watching his profile as he lays back with his eyes closed. 

“You will. I know you so well, remember?” With his eyes still closed, he lifts his arm out of the tub, reaching it toward you. You do the same, linking your fingers with his. “See,” he said in a cocky tone. “I knew you were going to do that.” 

[callsign-joyride]

For SOS..#19 with Bob..beach sex after hangman makes “baby on board virgin Bob” joke

Like a Virgin | Robert "Bob" Floyd

Summary: An insulting joke turns into you and Bob sneaking off/

Content warnings: SMUT (18+), public sex, unprotected p in v, mentions of a threesome

Prompt: "Kiss me."

This was written for my Summer of Smut writing event. Feel free to send in requests!

You and Bob had been dating for a few months, and you were pretty much in love with each other. Trivia nights and karaoke at The Hard Deck let you meet the Dagger Squad, and you had taken to close friendships with Phoenix and Rooster in particular, but you were on fairly good terms with everyone. You were about to lay on the couch and order a pizza when Bob called. It was kind of strange, considering he never really called around dinner, but you didn’t mind. When you answered, he asked what you were up to.

“Just about to order a pizza and watch a few movies, why?”

“Okay. I know it’s last minute but we’re having a cookout and bonfire at the beach. D’you wanna come? Rooster’s gonna grill.”

“Sure! What time?”

“Around six. I can pick you up, if you want. We’ll be behind The Hard Deck.”

“Sure, that sounds good. Okay, I’ll start getting ready. See you in a bit.”

It took a few minutes for you to get a bag ready for the beach and Bob came to pick you up closer to six. You waved to Phoenix as she was passing a ball back and forth with Fanboy. The burgers that Rooster made were delicious, and you went into The Hard Deck with Phoenix and Bob to get drinks for everyone. Payback brought fireworks and everyone messed with those until late into the evening.

“Poor baby on board here is pushing thirty and still a virgin,” a very drunk Hangman said. You glanced over at Bob and saw him put his head in his hands. A beat of silence passed over the group before Hangman cleared his throat and said, “That was supposed to be a joke,”. 

“Who wants to get in the water?” Rooster asked. A chorus of yeses was heard and you got up, taking Bob’s hand and heading to the water. Of course, you knew that Hangman’s attempts at jokes usually leaned more towards cruelty than anything else. But Bob seemed more quiet than he usually was while the two of you swam to a cove.

“You wanna talk about it?” You asked with your arms wrapped around Bob’s neck. 

“Not really much to talk about. I’m the butt of every joke because I’m quiet. Pretty much all there is to it. I’m pretty sure he hasn’t made a woman cum in like five years. Maybe I should’ve used that as a comeback, I don’t know.”

In the distance, you could hear Phoenix shrieking about Rooster throwing her in the water. 

“We could prove him wrong, y’know?” You asked.

“Who, Hangman?”

You hummed a yes before palming Bob through his swim trunks. He groaned and started to grind himself into you. The water was about four feet deep, so no one would be able to see what you were doing to Bob if they swam by. 

“Kiss me,” he said. You obliged and pulled him in for a deep kiss. He tightly wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you as you wrapped your legs around him. You broke apart for air and giggled as Bob started to walk further into the cove with you in his arms. He leaned against the wall so that your back wouldn’t get scratched up from the rocks. You let out a small moan as you felt him grind his bulge against you.

Your legs were tightly wrapped around him as he pulled his swimtrunks down and moved your swimsuit bottoms to the side. The rush of the waves and the current was almost enough to cover up the noises that you were making as Bob ran his hand through your folds.

“Always ready for me,” he said. You moaned into his ear as he slowly slid his dick inside of you. He did most of the work as you kept your legs wrapped around him and he moved you up and down on his cock. You weren’t paying attention as the faint laughter from the rest of the group died down, and you definitely weren’t paying attention when Hangman swam up to the cove.

“What are you guys - oh,” he said. You turned your head at his presence and glared at him. Bob was sill pumping in and out of you while whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

“You gonna join us or just watch?” Bob asked. You were a moaning mess as Bob pounded into you, otherwise you would’ve laughed.

“I think I’m good, man. Was just gonna tell you that we’re headed back to shore. God, I need a drink.”

Hangman swam away and Bob was relentless as he pounded into you and harshly rubbed your clit to get you off faster. You moaned into his mouth as you came and he slowed down before pulling out of you and setting you down.

“You didn’t-,”

“It’s okay. Let’s get home.”

Everyone was staring when you and Bob got back to the shore, and you let out a small chuckle as Bob walked with you to the rest of the group. Everyone was starting to put things away and decide who was going to take the leftover alcohol. You put a few seltzers in the back of Bob’s car and said goodnight to everyone before he took you home.’

“Can you pull over?” You asked after a few songs on the radio played.

“Yeah…”

You were still close to the beach so there was some sand on the side of the road as he pulled over. As soon as he looked at you, you reached into his swim trunks and pulled his semi hard cock out. 

“You really don’t have to - oh fuck,” he said as you wrapped your lips around the tip of his cock. He leaned his head back and groaned as you hollowed your cheeks around him and he came in your mouth. You looked into his eyes as you swallowed his spend and leaned up to kiss him. Heat was rushing up his chest and he tucked himself back into his swim trunks before starting the car again. He wrapped his arms around you tightly and gave you a hug.

“I’ll text you when I get home, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Get some sleep. I don’t want you tired at work tomorrow.”

You give him a quick kiss before heading inside and locking the door behind you. He stayed true to his word and texted you when he got home, joking that he wanted to have a threesome with Hangman being the third person. Of course, you knew that he was joking, but you weren’t opposed to the idea as you started to type a long message to him, but you deleted it before hitting send.

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[gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot]

What are their guilty pleasures? Who's ypu want to explore

Hi love <3

Tbh I never thought about it! You make so good questions that force me to come up with background lore and I love it <3 thank you so much

For Christine it's techno and electropop music. She'd be caught dead before admitting it (although she and Soap have the most obnoxious shared playlist where each song needs to have two yeses to be in, so it's a mix of folk, rock, heavy metal, techno, electropop, latina, classical... chaotic during car rides. Ghost wants to strangle them). Publicly she listens to rock, metal and pop, in that order (she is a Lady Gaga fan, also likes Sia, Loreen ... Miley Cyrus... ). But in those nights where she can't sleep and she needs to drown the voices? Electropop in her headphones, dancing like crazy in the gym or the hand to hand combat room at 2am. Need to blow out steam and lifting weights is not enough? Can't get out the noise of the explosion and the building collapsing on top of her? The harder the beat the better.

She also likes poledancing but she doesn't feel guilty about it, she just doesn't tell anybody for the stigma. She took it up after enlisting, a female sergeant told her and other female recruits that it was a good way to exercise to avoid the gym (and male recruits in there) and she loved it.

Also... karaoke. Enough said. Not now though, she won't dare be in front of an audience with that face.

For Simon... he has a sweet tooth. He can't be arsed to cook (but is a master with the grill. Price and him always argue about who is better) and has absolutely no idea about baking. But he likes food, he just can't be bothered to make it. He can cook the basics, very basics, but he doesn't enjoy cooking. But if some kind of pie, buns, cake, anything sweet is around, it won't be there much longer. He just can't resist it.

Christine stress bakes, so the common room fridge is always full of baked goods and other leftovers, to Soap and Gaz's delight (food dumpsters...). Even Price tries to grab something every day, because between her and Mylène they sure have them well fed. And that means more gym hours to keep the weight gain at bay. But GG, they could just eat less, or ask the girls to bake or cook less. Yeah right, and live of the shit at the mess hall. No thanks.

Thank you love <3

[unreliablesnake]

Hold it together when the world’s on fire (Simon “Ghost” Riley x reader)

Summary: After Soap dies during a mission, Ghost suffers from survivor’s guilt and depression. You’re there by his side both during and between missions, but sometimes you wonder if you’re enough to help him through this.

Note: Based on “Hold it together” and “World’s on fire” by Mike Shinoda. Soap, I’m so sorry. You were loved by all of us. Alex is a part of the team. Unedited story because I'm too lazy after work. What do you think?

Warnings: major character death (obviously), drug abuse, reader has a sister, brother-in-law, nephew, and parents.

Neither of you handled Soap's funeral well.

You took Simon's hand the moment he returned to stand by your side, squeezing it tightly when he looked down at you for a moment. He had fallen apart after Soap died, and he hadn't been himself ever since. But you were there by his side, and so was the rest of the team.

His eyes were shining from a few stray teardrops, something you never thought you would see on a man like him. Maybe watching as they buried the casket made it real, made him understand that he truly lost one of his brothers. Because that's what Soap was–his brother.

It should've been me. I shouldn't have sent him there. I fucked up, it's on me. If I went there myself he would still be alive.

Price had said it was probably the survivor's guilt speaking when he said these things. It shocked you at first, not understanding how he could say something like this, and making you wonder if he truly believed what he told you. You'd been together for almost two years now, but you'd never seen him be this low.

"Are you okay?" you asked quietly, putting a hand on his arm while you sat in the backseat of a car with him.

Price was driving, taking Gaz, Simon and you back to the hotel you were staying in. Laswell and Alex were closely behind, probably talking about work as usual on the way there.

You waited for Simon's answer, but he was just staring ahead without saying a word. In the rearview mirror your gaze met Gaz's, and he flashed a supportive smile at you when he noticed the worried look on your face.

Back in the hotel Price asked the two of you to follow him to somewhere less crowded, then told Simon it wouldn't be wise to let him back on the field just yet. "You need some time to get your head on straight," he said. "I'll send you the contact info of a therapist who specializes in these cases."

"I'm fine," he told him darkly.

But the captain wasn't stupid. "You're clearly not."

When your boyfriend took a deep breath, ready to speak up again, you placed a hand on his shoulder to get his attention. "He's right, Simon, you need time. Be happy that you'll have the whole bed to yourself when I'm gone," you added with a small laugh, hoping this could cheer him up a little.

"Oh, no, you're staying home with him," Price informed you. "You'll make sure he's okay."

It was an order. There was no need for you to try and resist, so you just nodded. Simon suddenly took your hand, but he didn't look at you. He didn't even look at his superior, instead his gaze turned to his shoes.

Two days later the trip from Scotland to England passed mostly in silence. Simon still didn't feel like talking, the only sounds leaving his lips were quiet yeses and nos, maybe mixed with an occasional I don't know.

"I'll take a shower then hit the bed," he said when you entered your apartment in the evening.

After driving for four hours, it wasn't surprising to hear him say that. You didn't question if he was tired or depressed. Probably both, deep down you knew that, but you were clever enough not to push him. "He'll come out of his shell and talk to you when he's ready," Laswell had assured you when you said goodbye.

Later in the night you woke up, instinctively knowing Simon wasn't sleeping well. Another nightmare. You could tell that from the rapid way his chest was heaving, how he was tossing and turning, and how he mumbled a few words in his sleep, as if he was hurrying someone to move.

Maybe he was talking to Soap. Again.

But it didn't seem to be a severe one, there was no need to wake him up just yet. So you let out a sigh then leaned over to put a hand on his cheek and give him a very soft kiss. Sometimes it helped to calm him down, it was worth a try this time too.

Simon stopped moving around and from what you could tell, his breathing also slowed down. Good. You laid back down to get back to sleep yourself, but soon you felt his arm wrap around your waist as he pulled you close to him.

"Thank you," he whispered into the nape of your neck, probably still half asleep.

••••••••

The weekend arrived soon, and you were invited by your sister to your nephew's sixth birthday party. Simon liked that kid, so you convinced him to jump in, give him his present, and say hi. "We don't have to stay long," you told him kindly before leaving the apartment.

"Maybe being among people will avert my thoughts for a while," he said, surprising you with this answer. Seeing the look on your face, he was quick to add his therapist was the one to suggest this.

There were a bunch of noisy kids at the party, with their parents standing in smaller groups, talking to each other. You didn't know most of them, so you and Simon flocked with your family in the living room, while the rest of the guests were outside with the children.

Your family knew about Soap's death. Well, they knew a friend of yours had died, so they were extra nice with Simon that day. Every time someone new arrived, they asked you two how you were holding up. He didn't really know what to say apart from a short fine.

When it was time for the cake, everybody gathered outside around a table and watched as the kids went crazy from the sugar rush. Some guy came over to your small group that included your sister, your brother-in-law, and your parents, and a guy you didn't know who brought up his three kids and some weird joke they brought back home after a sleepover.

"What has two legs and bleeds?" Simon suddenly asked, surprising you by speaking up for the first time that day. Your family glanced over at him with a concerned look, and you were just about to stop him when he said, "Half a dog."

No one laughed.

"Who the fuck says such a joke on a kid's birthday party?" asked the unknown guy, sounding offended by the joke.

Simon casually looked around, then he turned back to the man and spoke in the most uninterested voice you'd ever heard from him. "I don't see any kids nearby," he stated.

"Simon!" you warned him, only to earn a raised eyebrow from your boyfriend.

After a few seconds of silently staring at each other–you waiting for an apology, him waiting for an explanation as to why his joke was inappropriate–he eventually raised his hands and told you he would wait in the car.

Letting out a sigh, you turned to your sister with an apologetic smile. "I'm so sorry, he hasn't been himself lately. It would be for the best if we left now. Thank you for everything," you said quickly, then rushed out of the garden as fast as you could.

His dark sense of humor was lovely, but it definitely didn't belong to a six year old kid's birthday party. It was painful to see him be so out of place, especially since he had a good relationship with your nephew. But today there was no sign of it, he barely interacted with the boy.

Once you were sitting in the passenger seat of the car, you turned to him and asked, "Are you okay?"

"It was just a stupid joke," he muttered under his breath.

You wanted to tell him that the guy had been right about this not being the time and place for this particular joke, but in the end you remained silent. Deep down you knew he knew it was a small mistake, although you also knew that he wouldn't admit that, not even to you.

Instead of giving him a lecture, you just leaned over to pull him into a tight hug, stroking his back with your hand. "It's okay," you told him. "I'm sure they understand."

••••••••

"Hey, John," you said into the phone as you walked down an aisle in the grocery store.

"How's Simon?" asked the captain, sounding just as concerned as he had been ever since Soap's death. You came to a halt and remained silent which obviously caught his attention. "That bad?"

You let out a sigh and picked up a cereal to take a closer look at it. "No, I just tried to figure out what to say. I mean, he's better than he was two weeks ago, but he still zones out sometimes, he barely sleeps, like two or three hours tops. And even then he often has nightmares."

"And how's therapy going?"

"He's there two times a week. It's helping, he sometimes does or says things he heard there. But he still blames himself, and he still says every now then that it should have been him who died that day," you added with a groan. It was hard to hear it, and it was just as hard to talk about it.

Price remained silent on the other end of the line, either trying to process what he just heard or thinking about how to continue. Maybe it was both, you weren't sure. "When do you think he can come back?" he asked.

That was a good question. "Honestly, he would go back right away if he could. He says it would take his mind off of everything, but I'm not sure," you admitted.

"Yeah, he didn't sound convincing to me either," he replied with a sigh. "I talked to Alex, he's okay with keeping an eye on him on the field, and you could join his group to be there, but–"

"Would that be a good idea? Wouldn't he be afraid of losing me too?" you asked, interrupting him.

In the beginning you worked with Simon, but once you got together and the team found out, John insisted on separating the two of you. He wasn't sure if Simon could give you strict orders on the field, if he wouldn't favor you over Soap–which was something he definitely didn't need on his team.

"That's true," Price admitted. "But you know more about how to comfort him now than any of us. Maybe you could help him focus."

As you put two bottles of soda into your shopping cart, you thought about his suggestion. It could work, you and Alex being there by his side to make sure he doesn't do anything stupid. But what if you get separated on the field? You can't be glued together all the time.

So you took a deep breath and began to walk again. "We can give it a shot. I'll talk to him when I get home and see if he'd still like to go back to work," you said.

"All right. Send me a text with his answer," Price asked you. "Take care, we'll talk later."

You said goodbye and ended the call, putting the device into the pocket of your jacket. A quiet voice in the back of your mind kept telling you it was a bad idea, that maybe it would only put Simon in danger. He still wasn't himself, he probably wouldn't be able to give out proper orders just yet.

When you got home, the apartment was empty and eerily quiet. He was probably still in the gym, the only place where he could be alone according to him. Then you remembered something from the past. You suddenly began to laugh at the memory of all of those stupid little competitions Soap had started with Simon in the gym, both of them eager to prove they were faster, stronger, and had better stamina than the other.

To pass the time, you sat down on the couch and opened a streaming service on the TV to see if there was anything to watch until he got home. But you were just flipping through the titles, one less exciting than the other–your mind was way too worried about Simon to even think about entertainment.

Then you finally heard the lock turn and he finally entered the apartment, throwing his duffel bag near the living room door before walking over to the couch. "What are you doing?" he asked, his eyes momentarily turning to the screen. "You're not watching anything?"

"No. But I have a feeling I won't watch anything in the end," you told him with a short laugh, your eyes moving up from his crotch to his masked face.

There was a strange look in his eyes, one you hadn't seen in a while now. He looked excited and energized, not like someone who just returned from a two-hour workout session. There was also a hint of desire, although you weren't quite sure about that.

You hadn't had sex with him since the incident, but you knew that despite desperately wanting every piece of him, you had to be patient. He would come around eventually, but he had bigger problems than satisfying your needs right now.

"Good," he said, drawing a questioning hum out of you.

But Simon remained silent, he only took off his mask that landed on the couch next to you, then leaned down to scoop you up. With your hands automatically moving to the back of his neck, you took a closer look at him. You were right, that look in his eyes definitely mirrored his desire.

But his pupils weren't right, they were dilated. It could be because of the dim lights of the living room, but you were afraid it meant something else, something more dangerous. Could he be stupid enough to use drugs with his brother's history?

He lowered your body onto the bed before gently kicking your legs wider apart to get into position between them. His hands were resting next to your head, and he slowly leaned down to give you a soft kiss, one that became deeper, hungrier, and more feral as the seconds passed.

"Simon," you tried weakly as his lips moved on to your neck.

"Shhh," he tried to silence you.

But you didn't want to stay quiet, you wanted to ask him if he was high. So you reached out to seal his mouth with your hand, causing him to let out a deep growl. He opened his mouth and tried to bite you gently, but you gave him a warning look that made him stop.

You curled the fingers of your other hand around his muscular shoulder, stroking the rough skin with your thumb as you looked him in the eye. "Give me an honest answer, Simon. Are you high?" you asked him seriously.

Instead of replying, he reached up to peel your fingers off of himself then intertwined his fingers with yours and pressed them against the bed above your head. "I missed you so fucking much, sweetheart," he murmured against your lips.

"Answer my question."

He raised his head to look you in the eye and let out a sigh. "Do we really have to do this?" You raised an eyebrow at him, getting fed up with his bullshit. The more he avoided the answer, the more suspicious you were. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath.

Suddenly he let go of you and sat down on the other side of the bed, his head buried in his hands. "Simon, drugs won't solve your problem," you said the obvious as you sat up as well and buried your fingers in his hair. "Listen, I talked to John today and we were discussing whether or not you should go back to work."

His eyes found your face, eagerly waiting for you to continue. You weren't mad at him, you were just sad that he made the wrong choice. You thought he was getting better, that he had learned how to handle his grief by now, but apparently you were wrong.

"Was this your first time?" you asked him quietly, and he nodded in response. "Can it stay this way? Can you resist the urge to use this shit again?"

"If it means I can go back, then yes," came his response.

You let out a sigh and took his hand in yours. "Alex and I will work with you when you return," you began to explain. "John asked him to keep an eye on you until you get used to being back on the field. But after tonight…"

Your voice faded and he knew what it meant. "I already told you, it was a one-time thing," he assured you quietly, leaning over to rest his forehead against yours. "I saw what drugs did to Tommy, I won't make the same mistake, I promise. I just… I was in the gym and remembered something and I just needed something to take my mind off of everything, you know?"

"Mmm-hmm," you hummed before placing a soft kiss on his cheek. "Listen, I'll buy some drug tests and you'll do one every day for the next… Let's say ten days. If you're always clean, I'll tell John that you're ready to return."

Simon let out a sigh, but he nodded eventually. When you flashed a sweet smile at him, his hand moved under your shirt, long fingers moving up your spine that made you arch your back a little. "I'm so fucking hard, baby, why don't we do something about it, huh?" he asked as he kissed your neck.

"You should get some sleep," you told him, although your voice came out as a whisper.

"It's been so long, I'm sure you've been missing me. I should fuck your sweet, beautiful brains out before sleeping," he mumbled against your skin, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine.

Every cell in your body was craving him, but the fact he was high on some shit told you it was the perfect opportunity to teach him a lesson. You take drugs? Fine, no sex for you. So you pushed him away and cleared your throat as you gave him an apologetic look.

"I'm sorry, but not tonight."

"Are you punishing me for being high for once in my entire fucking life?" he asked, sounding angry.

You nodded. "I prefer it when you're clean," you said, then climbed out of bed and returned to the living room.

••••••••

Three weeks later you could finally join the team again, but everybody seemed to be walking on eggshells around Simon. He noticed and he hated it, but decided not to say anything. He only mentioned it to you, telling you how frustrating he found this treatment.

"It's good to see you again, Ghost," Alex said with a wide smile when the two of you walked over to him for the first time.

Simon nodded and shook his hand. "So you'll be my babysitter, huh?"

"Yeah, it seems like it. But whatever you say goes. I'll only step in if something's wrong with the order in that situation," he assured him.

You gulped, carefully examining Simon's eyes through his plastic skull mask. When you looked over at Alex, you noticed he was doing the same, cautiously watching the lieutenant and trying to decide his movements.

Before he could say anything, Gaz showed up, telling you Price's briefing was about to begin. You followed him, and inside you and Simon sat down next to each other.

You soon saw him rapidly tapping his feet out of the corner of your eye, so you reached out and placed a hand on his knee to calm him down. He glanced over at you, then put his hand on top of yours, his fingers carefully leaving with your own.

After an hour or so everybody left the room, but the two of you stayed behind, silently agreeing to have a quick chat. You looked around, making sure there was truly no one left there, and then pulled up his mask to his nose so you could give him a gentle kiss.

Soon you pulled the mask back down and looked at him with a small smile. "I'm proud of you, Simon. You seem to be a lot better lately."

"I am better," he told you with a sigh. "I'll keep going to therapy when we're home. And if it wasn't for you…"

With a short laugh, you reached out and took his hand. "I'll always be here for you. Never forget that," you said.

"I love you."

It had been a while since he had last told you this. It was as if his brain had forgotten how to say these words, but you knew it wasn't intentional. So you flashed the brightest smile at him before you replied, "I love you too."

[ciaossu-imagines]

Hi

I'm new here but I've read almost all your mm prompts and head canons and i reallllly loved the way you described the characters. That's why i want to ask you a rather wierd question....

I was wondering how you imagine saeyoung's sex life...like what is sex to him? How important s it to him in a relationship? Will he be fine with an asexual partner?

Almost everyone that writes about him describe him as a person who has a lot of fun with sex but i think he as someone who worked in the dark side of the world for a long time might have seen and understood things that made him repulsive towards sex and the whole sex industry from porn to even nightclubs

I would love to know your opinion on this

Hello there, my lovely anon! I’m so glad you found my blog and thank you so much for reading and enjoying what I write 😊 That’s really sweet of you to say and makes me really happy. Now, I’m answering this less with actual headcanons but just kind of a blanket statement that I’ve made a couple of times and then I’ll share some of my views! I apologize in advance if this wasn’t exactly what you wanted though, and as a note, this definitely isn’t a weird question at all!!

So, plain out and out blanket statement that I will always hammer home – I might write Saeyoung one way. A lot of the writer’s might write him a certain way too, a lot more sexual than you see him being. But that doesn’t mean that you’re wrong in how you view him in any way or that we’re wrong in viewing him as we do. That’s the wonderful thing about the characters, that we can all see and write them however we want, unless the creators tell us specifically not too.

So, if you see Saeyoung as sex-repulsed, that’s a valid interpretation and you should feel free to continue thinking and writing that, even if others write otherwise!

Another blanket statement that I cannot make clear enough – If you are asexual and are wondering if your favourite character would like you and be okay with it, YES. YES, A MILLION YESES. Your favourite character is going to love you and want to be with you no matter what you look like, no matter your sexual orientation or lack thereof, your gender identity or lack thereof, no matter if you have mental health struggles, no matter what really. I will never, ever, EVER tell anyone their favourite character wouldn’t like them; the only time I ever take my personal headcanons about sexual orientations or how important sex or any other big issues regarding the characters is when I  do matchups, when it’s part of my job to do so, so to speak.

So yeah, Saeyoung will be okay with an asexual partner because my writing is meant to make people feel happy, not to make them feel excluded or like their favourite character wouldn’t be cool with who they are.

Also going along with that, I do think asexuality or being sex repulsed is not necessarily caused by trauma, in the majority of cases actually. And just as a reminder, from someone who hasn’t been a virgin since I was seven, trauma related to sex can actually lead to just the opposite, hyper-sexuality where a person starts to heavily tie their self-worth into sex.

Now, we’ll get into my opinion around Saeyoung and his views on sex. I don’t actually think he has a lot of trauma tied around sex itself, but I do think his religious views really do impact his views on sex. I think that he does believe in waiting for marriage to have sex, whenever at all possible, or at least a firm commitment towards marriage, so he does have some surprisingly traditional views on sex.

To him, in my opinion, sex is a way to not only connect with his lover and feel closer to them, but he gets a lot of his physical affection through sex, and it helps how touch-starved and affection-starved he really is as a person. It’s not quite healthy, I’m not going to lie, but I do think that he does rely on sex for just that feeling of connection and love from someone else in a physical sense.

On top of that, in bonus stories from the same, we do see Saeyoung get very flirty, touchy, and seductive in a very playful way, which really is where a lot of the fandom, including me, does get the impression that sexually speaking, once his sex life with his partner does begin, he is someone who brings a lot of fun to sex, who isn’t afraid to instigate, and who does find the fun in the experience.

That being said, I do want to point out that I actually heavily agree with you in that Saeyoung has a pretty low view of nightclubs, they’re not something he would enjoy in any sort of way, but I think that’s less to do with anything sexual. I do think his mother was a drunk, that Saeyoung has very poor attitudes towards alcohol. The pure amount of people getting absolutely piss-ass drunk at a nightclub? It’s not going to be something he can deal with, and the situation would make him exceptionally anxious and unable to deal well.

[dreamofmetoday]

HAECHAN AND RYUJIN RELATIONSHIP READING - DID IT EVEN REALLY HAPPEN?

this reading was a paid request, a big thank you to the buyer!

cards included with some explanation since it was requested, keep in mind descriptions are brief (since i think reading cards be quite individual to the person). deck used: silver witchcraft tarot.

did haechan and ryujin really ever date?

10 of pentacles, lovers, 6 of wands.

yes.

how did their relationship begin?

lovers, chariot, 9 of wands, the sun, the emperor.

haechan pursued ryujin with obvious flirting and intentions (the sun) which ryujin initially rejected, a lot. essentially, it seems haechan love-bombed ryujin and kept trying until she said yes and she accepted his offer.*

*the chariot represents taking charge and fighting against odds, 9 of wands represents fighting until you can’t any longer and strong resilience, and the emperor, male, jumped out and landed on top of the chariot so the pursuer was haechan.

more information (how did haechan pursue her specifically): ace of wands, 8 of wands, knight of cups.

so initially he moved quite quickly. he might have been quite forward with how he wanted to sleep with her, acting quite boldly*. he backed away and then approached her more gently, romantically and methodically - likely became friends with her first to win her over slowly (knight of cups).

*8 of wands can represent a confession and ace of wands can be sexual, so a confession of a specifically sexual nature.

are haechan and ryujin still together now?

ace of cups, the emperor, knight of cups, king of wands, death. song: clean by taylor swift.

no and if they are, it’s not romantic and much more casual in this moment but more likely, haechan is going to propose a friends with benefits relationship to ryujin.

how does haechan feel about ryujin now?

lovers rx, 8 of swords rx, 2 of swords rx, 5 of pentacles.

he sees her as a crazy ex - thinks she lies, deceived him, has betrayed him, is cold and not giving etc. (he sees her as someone with a lot of personalities). he feels pretty victimised and hurt by her. along with the 5 of pentacles representing poverty and lack, this deck portrays a naked woman so i get the sense he feels he’s “seen it all” now so there’s no more novelty and she’s no longer exciting the same way she was in the beginning. at the same time, he feels pretty regretful and blames himself too and hopes they’re not really ever going to be over (his personality itself seems pretty self-pitying and dramatic which explains some of these "conflicting" thoughts).

how does ryujin feel about haechan now?

ace of swords, hanged man, page of wands rx, 2 of wands, 8 of wands rx. song: my tears ricochet by taylor swift.

she feels she finally sees him for who he is (ace of swords, hanged man) and that this truth is both painful and liberating - she thinks he’s immature, can’t see when he’s the problem and that he manipulated her. she also thinks his flattery was fake, that he told her what she wanted to hear and didn’t mean it and sometimes even switched up on her - he would do things like compliment her on something but then get mad about the same thing later (from “i love that you don’t wear make up, i like natural girls.” to things like, “you never try to look nice for me.”), and this really hurt and confused her. he was jealous and possessive which she interpreted as him just really loving her but she doesn’t think that anymore because repeatedly he would not support her when she felt it really counted. however, there is a part of her that wonders if the timing was just off and she worries about being forgotten or that she was nothing to him (because she loved him a lot).

bonus question: is the rumour about their relationship beginning around wannabe era (beginning of the pandemic) true?

ace of wands, ace of cups, ace of swords, six of wands, ten of cups

yes (all these cards are yeses and aces represent beginnings too).

[fallingforel]

Louis and 70 pls 💗💗💗

A/N good morning, afternoon and evening (have to cover all bases because who knows where people may be in the world its evening for me loves 🫶) of course I would be glad to write this for you (sorry it took me so long to get round to it) on with the showww. OH and I'm gonna make you part of 1d in this hehhehe

PROMPT 70:“I don’t want you… I need you.”

Words: 1,094

warnings: mentions of death via car accident, mentions of alcohol, mentions of sick, mentions of sex its a generally fluff piece though so hope you enjoy.

Life was great at the moment, I was living life to the heights I'd never thought I'd get to 3 years ago when I was a little 19 year old who just lost both parents in a car crash to a teenage drunk driver who knew no better than what I did at that age, I performed on the x-factor stage after my mum told me to "chase your dreams sweetheart" getting me to where I am now. In a band with 5 boys we love performing every night recording our albums and I get to do it with my best friends in tow.

"So. If you guys didn't know. One of our band members has a birthday tomorrow, but we're not playing a show tomorrow. So can you make this show extra special for us? Her family couldn't be here tonight, because they're in better places. So can you make her feel superrr loved for us?" Louis asked the crowd that we were performing to in stockholm tonight. They screamed back.

"You know I think I see a sign over there that says Y/n we love you, we can be your family, there's another one that says We love you y/n happy birthday. There's another one that says I love Y/n more than free wifi. Wow Y/n you are getting the love tonight" Louis said making the crowd scream loud at that part.

"I think we should sing Happy Birthday to Y/n don't you think?" Harry asks which earns multiple yeses from the boys and screams erupting from the crowd and a shake of the head from me.

"okay okay. 3, 2, 1"

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR Y/N HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU"

"I think that's the loudest happy birthday I've ever had. Thank you. Now time for one of our fans favourites this is teenage dirtbag"

⋆｡°✩

Running off the stage on our Very high high.

"LOUIS!!!" "Y/n, Love you did so great" Is all he says before he's pulling me into a very big hug and swooping me up into the air and then finally putting me down and letting go after much protest on his behalf but me saying I can't breathe did the job

"Thank you for that happy birthday. It was honestly the most love I've ever felt from one of our shows." "yeah well it was all for you and you did it. Happy birthday love" "thank you Louis" Is all I say before I'm pulling him into a hug again in which he wraps his arms around my torso and placing chaste kisses on top of my head.

"And you mean to tell me they aren't together?" Niall speaks up from beside Harry where they are both watching Louis and I from the wall just a few feet out of earshot. But I still heard it. "Yes we are very much not together."

⋆｡°✩

Louis and I decided to go out to celebrate my birthday, wanting to bring in my 22nd birthday with me. As I had no-one to have a phone call from so Louis decided to take my mind off of it and go celebrate. The other boys were too tired to celebrate I don't blame them so it was just Louis and I

"Lou it's getting late its like 3, we should probably get back. I'm gonna spew my guts if i drink another drop" "yeah that's probably wise me too, come on then dove" "That's a new one?" "yeah, they represent peace and that's what you've always shown. Even when you found out who hit your parents when you racked up the money, you were so calm, you were the one to apologise when you saw how guilty it felt. If that was my mum in the car I'd be saying all kinds of nasty shit to the driver who killed her. Guess that's what I like about ya, dove" "thanks lou but they also represent innocence and purity and I'm none of those two things am I lou?" "No I suppose your not but you do have a pure soul and I guess that is what matters the most" "alright stop with the spirituality mr donny. and lets get back to the tour bus I'm exhausted"

⋆｡°✩

we get back in and I sit at the kitchen table nursing a whiskey and louis looks at me funny

"what?" "thought you were gonna spew if you drank another drop of alcohol?" "thats different." "how?" "whiskey I can drink slowly, you made me literally DOWN shots" "thats the thing about you that makes me love you Y/n" I just burst out laughing because it wasn't true, the guy I liked had been crushing on ever since 2010 at the first group auditions stage liked me back. "yeah okay" "no I'm being deadly serious" "you're drunk lou. Go to bed" "No, I'm being deadly serious Y/n." "You just want me because your drunk Louis, I'm being serious" "and I'm being serious when I say I want you. Actually no fuck that, I don’t want you… I need you." "Louis you have to mean it because I am not going down that hole of where we mess about like silly fucking teenagers because we're past that point, being teenagers I mean we're fucking adults" "As serious as a heart attack, I love you darling" I jump into his arms where he drowns me into a heavy snog, "Fuck lou. I love you too."

⋆｡°✩

Last night was one of the best nights ever somehow after everything I ended up in Louis' bunk, the reminder of that was Louis kissing my shoulderbone waking me up from my post-sex slumber "Louis, You seen Y/n" Harry shouts from outside Louis' bunk which earns a giggle from me, ultimately making louis clamping his hand over my mouth. "NAH MATE, HAVEN'T SEEN HER SINCE WE GOT IN LAST NIGHT" I lick his hand that is covering my mouth "DID YOU JUST LICK MY FUCKING HAND!" "Lou who have you got in there?" which makes harry open the bunk, meeting eyes with the both of us "HOLY FUCK. Y/N AND LOUIS FUCKED." which makes the remainder of the boys (excluding louis.) scream from their respectful places on the bus "FINALLY WAS ABOUT FUCKING TIME" and then ultimately zayn says "SHIT NOW WE HAVE TO DEAL WITH THEM FUCKING LIKE RABBITS"

⋆｡°✩

lets just say that night in stockholm lead to a certain song on four with the same place name, that I wrote.

⋆｡°✩

end.

[amailboxlemur]

10 people I’d like to get to know better

Thank you for tagging me @simonsapelsin!!! Sorry I’m so late getting to it!

Song you currently have on repeat: The entire soundtrack from the Wicked movie, but specifically what is this feeling

Your current hyperfixation: Omar! Always Omar. Very into wicked as well right now

Favourite colour/aesthetics rn: purple! It’s always been my favourite colour, completely separate from the yr association

An album you’ll never get tired of and has no skips: Hamilton. This musical about the founding fathers goes so hard for no reason. Every Night Fantasy is also 100% a no skips EP

Dream date with your celebrity crush: considering that when I met Omar at lyko pretty much all I could manage were a few squeaky yeses know for a fact I wouldn’t survive a date. If I could ever manage a conversation I’d love to talk about his music process. Specifically the vocal training he does and how it was for him to work with the hillerska choir since it’s so different than his usual style. Idk if that counts as a date though

YouTube video you’ll forever watch: one semester of Spanish love song. My grade 11 spanish teacher showed it to our class because our final project was to make something like it, but it’s always stuck in my head and I’ll catch myself singing it randomly

Something you’re looking forward to: christmas. It’s an easy answer at this time of year but I genuinely love the holiday, it hits right in the nostalgia

No pressure tagging @yrblogbaby @crownedwille @the-words-we-sung and anyone else that wants to. I feel like a lot of people have done this though since I’m so late!

[kakusu-shipping]

I just had. The worst idea. And I'm so excited about it.

Match-Up games are where you send me in an ask with info about yourself (as much or as little as you want to include) and then I tell you a character I think you'd make a good couple with. (You can also include if you have specific Gender/Age/Morals preferences for the character in question; Say you're an adult uncomfortable with being matched-up with a minor, you can say so)

I'm very personally obsessed with Match-Up games, I love playing them, I have submitted myself to every single one I can find, especially ones for Fandoms I'm not in because I love getting second hand info on media I have never and probably will never watch and getting a little glimps into what I might be doing in that Universe, but I don't know if there are people in the Self Ship community who are as into those kinds of games as I am.

If I get enough yeses I'll make a dedicated post about it with more information, just so everyone can be on the same page about this.

[neopronouns-in-action]

Neopronouns in Action #069: First Day of School

Neopronouns: zo/zol/zov/zolself which follow the same rules as he/him/his/himself

Replace he with zo

Replace him with zol

Replace his with zov

Replace himself with zolself

EX:

"He is going to adopt a new puppy soon, as soon as he gets a fence set up around his yard so the puppy can go outside without him having to walk it. His uncle is going to help set up the fence, since he has a set of power tools he’s letting him use, since he lost his. He's going to buy toys and train the puppy himself.”

Becomes:

"Zo is going to adopt a new puppy soon, as soon as zo gets a fence set up around zov yard so the puppy can go outside without zol having to walk it. Zov uncle is going to help set up the fence, since he has a set of power tools he’s letting zol use, since zo lost zov. Zo's going to buy toys and train the puppy zolself.”

= = =

Another Flatland short story, which will make a lot more sense if you go read Flatland.

Trigger warning for child abuse and police brutality.

= = =

069: First Day of School

“Alright, students, when I call your name, you will come north one at a time, and feel the angle on this specimen. Then you will return to your seats and write south what you think the answer is. You all remember your lessons from before your break, I hope? Eating lunch hasn’t erased your memories?”

“Yes.” Finley said, along with a simultaneous chorus of other yeses, nos and confused, “uhhs...” from the rest of zov classmates.

Zo had started out confidant with zov answer, but now zo was confused. Was zo answering yes that zo remembered zov lessons, or yes that lunch had made zol forget? This was zov first day at school, zov first day somewhere without zov mother there to supervise. It was frightening and exciting and fun. Right at this moment it was mostly confusing.

But Teacher Benami didn’t seem to care how confused the class was, because he started calling names. And because no one in the class had a byname that started with A, “Finley Brytye.” was the first name to be called.

Finley obediently moved to the front of the classroom, carefully maneuvering around the angles of zov classmates, and approached the blurry, almost imperceptible point of brightness that zo recognized only as Teacher Benami’s eye through sheer habit, and the brighter point that zo could only assume was the eye of the specimen. Since Finley sat at the back of the classroom, zo could only see the dim lines that were the backs of the rest of zov classmates.

Only because zo’d navigated this route dozens of times now did zo manage to avoid bumping into any of zov classmates as zo made zov way to the front of the large classroom where zov teacher was waiting. Everyone else made it look so easy, zo was constantly ashamed of zov clumsiness and did zov best to hide it.

This would be the first time Finley actually tested out zov educated Feeling skill. North until now, it had been nothing but theory, with Teacher Benami explaining the different kinds of angles, the scale from .5 to 59 degrees that indicated a wretched Isosceles--

(Any time zov parents talked about Isosceles, they always referred to them as ‘wretched’, so Finley now automatically placed the word ‘wretched’ in front of ‘Isosceles’ without even thinking about it)

--and how the students were to carefully feel along the angle of the specimen with their cillia, making sure not to press their side against it, or they might hurt themselves.

The specimen was, of course, a wretched Isosceles, which wasn’t a person, but it would give them practice for Feeling real people to tell their angles.

Finley’s mother had taught zol how to feel to recognize certain people, like zov siblings, father, and herself, but zo’d never thought about the measurements of their angles before in numbers, or anything besides a personal marker.

Finley approached cautiously, not wanting to bump into the specimen or zov teacher now that zo was closer. Finley’s angle was 60°, which was less dangerous than the angle of a wretched Isosceles (or Nature forbid, a Woman), but still much sharper and dangerous than that of a Square, or Pentagon, or any of the more elevated classes.

Zo was very close to the specimen and Teacher Benami now, and Finley paused for a moment, suddenly nervous. Did zo really have to touch the wretched Isosceles? What if its acute angle was contagious? Finley’s parents sometimes worried about zol and zov brothers being “infected” by too much contact with wretched Isosceles, it was why zo and his brothers always had to walk the long way to school, to avoid passing the work sector where the wretched Isosceles lived.

“Go on, son,” Teacher Benami said, chuckling a little, as though reading Finley’s mind, “It’s chained so securely, it couldn’t bite even if it wanted to.”

Finley still hesitated. North until this moment, zo’d never been this close to a wretched Isosceles before, let alone been preparing to touch one. “Can I wash my cillia afterward?” Zo asked, afraid of the infection zov parents were always whispering about.

Teacher Benami’s eye brightened in a smile, his laugh was louder this time, and Finley felt a ripple through the air as Teacher Benami waved his cillia in a gesture of mirth as he laughed, “Yes, yes, you may, Finley, and good on you for asking! That’s the spirit! But hurry on now, everyone needs to have their turn. Feel the angle right there where the eye is, figure out what degree you think it is, then you can go wash your cillia.”

With Teacher Benami’s urging, Finley gave in and scooted close to the brightly glowing eye, reaching out with zov foremost cillia, stretching it so much it started to hurt.

Zov cillia connected with the smooth line of one of the specimen’s sides, and zo almost felt zov heart stop with fear, expecting pain, or for some terrible mutating disease to sweep over zol, changing zol into an unrecognizable monster--

But nothing happened, except that Teacher Benami told zol to hurry north.

So Finley hurriedly brushed zov cillia forward, towards the now hidden glow of the specimen’s eye, wanting to get the experience over as quickly as possible--

And on the way of zov cillia’s slide south the other side of the point covering the specimen’s now hidden eye, zo felt his heart leap again, but this time not out of fear, but of surprised recognition.

“Felix?!” Zo cried automatically, instinctively shoving forward with zov other cillia to feel the familiar spot again to make sure zo wasn’t wrong. Zo wasn’t. Right there, to the left of Felix’s eye, was her birthmark, the small dent in her otherwise smooth side that had allowed Finley to recognize her for as long as zo could remember.

Finley’s mind was whirling with bewilderment and sudden anger. Why was zov cousin tied north and being called a specimen? Felix wasn’t a wretched Isosceles, she was a respectable Equilateral!

Not thinking about anything except the injustice of it, Finley began tugging violently at one of the chains constricting zov cousin to the wall, thinking to zolself, because zo couldn’t speak when zov mouth was latched onto the bitter metal of the chain, ‘I’ll get you out, Felix!’

The loud clacking of the heavy chain and Finley’s sudden, overwhelming rage made zol immune to the reprimands of zov teacher and the confused laughter of zov class, until zo felt the sudden, sharp jolt of the lance in zov side, before Teacher Benami shoved zol with one of his flat sides, so that Finley went crashing backwards away from zov enchained cousin, reeling from the shock.

Teacher Benami’s enraged voice roared so loudly Finley could feel the ripples of air against zov bruised skin; “What in Nature’s sight has gotten into you, young man?!” His eye was suddenly all that Finley could see, right in front of zov face.

Zo jerked backwards, and shouted back, “That’s not a specimen, that’s my cousin, Felix! Let her out! She’s not a wretched Isosceles! She’s an equilateral just like me!”

The room fell dead silent for a few heartbeats, then Teacher Benami jumped to the alarm button and snapped out, “Guards! Room 17! Get in here!”

Then Finley was being shoved again, this time until zo was squashed back against Felix, the large chains bruising zov side, pressing the two of them together until Finley thought zo would burst from the pressure.

Zo didn’t even know how long this lasted before the pressure was suddenly released, and for a few precious moments, zo could breathe again – then there were spikes of pain in all three of zov sides – the sharp stab of the guards’ lances, pinning zol in place.

Finley was dizzy, terrified, and felt sick. The lunch zo’d just eaten was threatening to come back north, hurting zov eye, which had clamped shut instinctively in self-preservation.

Teacher Benami whispered something to one of the guards that Finley couldn’t understand past the terror suffocating zol.

So zo didn’t see anything as zo was forced out of the room at lancepoint, shoved roughly and lanced any time zo stumbled or faltered, with the guards snarling and swearing each time.

Finley was forced backwards into a cell so small zo could literally feel zov back corners being crushed and bent out of shape. Zo still couldn’t convince zolself to open zov eye, so all zo could do was tremble in pain and fear as the sharp stench of distress pheromones filled the tiny room.

Hours passed where Finley had nothing to do but wallow in zov own misery, trying to understand what had happened. The temperature began to drop, signaling the fall of night. Zo began to shiver, feeling claws of ice wrap around zov insides.

Everything had turned into a disaster so quickly, zo still couldn’t process it or understand why these horrible things had happened.

Felix had been chained up in zov room like a wretched Isosceles, even though she was a respectable Equilateral. Equilaterals weren’t specimens, they were respectable tradesmen. They were supposed to grow up to be artisans.

This was Finley’s first day of school.

It wasn’t supposed to end like this.