#because i'm going to experiment and write forward a bit and see if it's the ending that's fucked

[vi-is-badass]

This is going to be my scattered thoughts on Arcane season 2. Still reeling from the finale and some of these thoughts and opinions will change with time and re-watches. My thoughts have already changed a lot over the course of the last few days, so I might revisit this in the next couple of weeks, but for right now this is how I feel.

If you disagree with me that's fine. Everyone is going to have a different experience from you and connect with different things. That's why I love media and talking about it with other people.

Act 1 has really grown on me over time. Initially, I was a bit critical of the pacing and Vi's writing but with time, a re-watch, and talking with other people about it I have a significantly more positive view of it to the point I genuinely love the first act. Vi's writing especially works better for me when combined with what they do with her in the second act.

I love episode 3. It's a strong conclusion to act 1 and did pretty much everything I wanted to see in a follow-up to season 1. The Ashes and Blood sequence that cuts between Jayce, Ekko, and Heimerdinger finding the anomaly and the fight between Jinx and Vi was so well done that it is one of my favorite sequences to rewatch. It’s especially incredible from an editing perspective. The way the fight ends is also great with each characters reaction to Isha’s involvement being incredibly powerful on a personal and thematic level.

Act 2 is easily the strongest act for me because it takes the time to slow down and really focus on Vi and Jinx. They are what I consider the narrative heart of Arcane and it's their relationship that made me fall in love with the series in the first place. I think this act is phenomenal for both of them, doing so much heavy lifting to explore their characters and trauma in a quiet and subtle way. It really takes a look at who they were before they lost their parents-- the core of their characters-- and how it informs who they are now. How trauma and hardship shaped the two of them and who they want to be vs who they were forced to become.

To me, the " Remember Me" montage is the most beautiful music sequence of the season. This montage does so much in so little time. I will write something to expand on how I viewed the scene, but for right now, I'm just going to say it never fails to work for me emotionally.

Episode 5 is my personal favorite of the season. I love the way it explores the relationship between Vi and Jinx. They get to be siblings, fight like siblings, and finally start to reconnect after years apart without any influences pulling them in opposite directions. It's also another exploration of their longing over what could have been (What if vander and silco succeeded in creating zaun, what If silco found Vander's letter, what if they were allowed to talk in season 1, what if things with their second family didn't fall apart). It's a strong episode that is centered around what I love most about Arcane.

The moment when Vi trusts Jinx and puts down her fists, calling out to Vander despite her uncertainty, and Jinx's desperate attempts to see what happened in the aftermath really shows just how much they love each other and their individual growth.

The family hug where Vi looks at Jinx and tells her "What are you waiting for? He's your dad too." and she breaks down crying, lunging into the hug, is also one of the most potent emotional moments for me. (This family makes me emotional if these thoughts don't make that clear)

Act 3 still has me a little split, but I'm going to talk about the things I loved first because there are a lot of things I loved! I was overall mostly positive on it, but I have a few nagging issues.

Episode 7 is phenomenal. This is a close second for my favorite episode of the season. It's such a beautiful exploration of "What could have been". The way it shows that Ekko, the character the most adamant in the first season that Jinx is a lost cause and that they have to look forward, is also bogged down by a wish that things could be different especially when it comes to his relationship with Jinx/Powder, hits like a truck. His decision to return to his own reality and change what he can in the present, reconnecting with Jinx and helping save Piltover and Zaun, makes his arc one of the most effective and impactful ones in the season. It

Episode 7 also gives Jinx and Ekko's relationship the most beautiful and satisfying exploration of any of the relationships in the season for me. Ekko gets to see what Jinx could have been, that she was a creation of her surroundings rather than through pure choice like he convinced himself in season 1, and that the girl he cared about and loved/loves is in there and worth reaching out to. This alternate universe allows him to let go of his anger and pain over how things played out and mend that relationship that was broken in his universe.

Side note for the spiel above: The fact that the episode has Jinx and Ekko talk about Vi in such an emotional and empathetic way only for people to use this episode as a bludgeoning tool against Vi, saying her death made everyone happier and she made Jinx, is incredibly ironic and deeply frustrating to me. (It took me a minute but I realized my issues with this episode stemmed from the bad takes I've seen online rather than anything in the episode itself, but I'm glad I took that step back)

The dance scene with "Ma Meilleure Ennemie" playing over it was gorgeous.

The way that Jayce and Viktor's arc ends worked incredibly for me. I was initially worried because they had no screen time together in act 2 outside of Jayce killing Viktor, but the way they had their conflict play out in act 3 subverted my expectations and was very satisfying to me.

I actually like how Jinx's arc played out in the season. It was a beautiful arc that I felt was fully explored for the most part. I'll also probably expand on my thoughts on Jinx's arc once I finally recover from my most recent rewatch of Arcane and can pull my thoughts together to make something more coherent.

This isn't an act 3 specific thing, but I absolutely love how much praise Mel has been getting as a character since season 2 started up. I thought she was one of the strongest characters in the first season with a fantastic arc and I was so glad she lived to continue her growth in season 2. (She was awesome in this act though so it is a bit act 3 specific haha)

This one is hyper-specific but the shot of Vander looking at little Vi and Jinx with so much love while the words “if there was nothing to fight or protect maybe then I could finally be free maybe death is like falling asleep” play over the scene in the finale makes me want to bawl every time I see it and/or think about it more than any other moment in the series. That hit me so hard and it really shows just how much this series and its writing made me love these characters.

Now for the negatives. I didn't like how much they sidelined Vi for the final act. I loved what they did with her in act 2 and I have grown to love what they did with her in act 1, but I really don’t think they did what they needed to for her character in act 3. I do think the end point for her character is where she needed to end up and that it was where she was heading since season 1. I like the moments on their own, but she’s not in the act enough and her perspective is explored so little that it doesn’t work for me as a whole. We go from her breaking down after losing what’s left of her family (from her perspective) to a happy ending with Cait so quickly that it feels like whiplash. The show didn’t give us enough screen time with her in the third act for me to buy into Vi's ability to move forward from the weight of her guilt and feelings of responsibility. It’s frustrating because it’s that very part of her character, the guilt and responsibility that comes with being parentified at a young age that stays with you into adulthood, that really resonated with me and seeing the transition and healing from that being skirted over disappointed me personally. Still love the show and Vi is still my favorite character but the way the show handled her in the final arc was disappointing.

I will probably get crucified for this take but I was also a bit disappointed with how the show chose to brush over a lot of the things between Caitlyn and Vi in act 3. Act 1 introduced so many issues between the two of them that still needed to be addressed in act 3 (Caitlyn’s actions towards Vi in episode 3 and her prejudice towards Zaunites in particular) that their big moment didn’t feel as satisfying as I wished it did. I genuinely did want them to get together, I like that they got a happy ending, and I actually do like the scene where they get together because so much of it evokes the empathy and understanding I liked about the relationship in season 1, but I was disappointed they decided to sweep so much under the rug between them. I might have a different experience as time passes and I genuinely hope I do, but that's just how I feel right now.

I also wasn't a fan of how Vi and Jinx were sidelined during the final fight. I already talked about Vi, but outside of Jinx's big damn heroes moment she was really sidelined as well. We didn't get to see her and Ekko rally the undercity and her fight with Vi against Warwick, while emotionally impactful, lacked any tangible impact on the course of the final battle. Considering how much emphasis acts 1 and 2 put on Jinx stepping into a leadership role and being a symbol for the people of Zaun I think the decision not to show her do exactly that was a misstep and something missing from her arc. I think the fight with Warwick should have had some sort of importance in winning the fight against Ambessa and the Machine Herald.

Overall these aren't things that make me hate the show or the finale, but they're persistent issues for me that make the third act my least favorite of the season as a whole right now. I can understand why people would think differently. This was just my experience. I don’t want to be a blog that spreads negativity and I hope others enjoyed the show and found something to connect to. I love this show and it was a big part of the last 3 years of my life. I will always love this show.

[pastafossa]

Decided no chapter this week. I’ve been working on it for days now and it’s just... not what it should be. I’ve basically been circling it like those clips of Miyazaki, only with a vape pen instead of a cigarette.

 I can’t figure out what it is, and it’s gone through multiple rounds of editing as I tried to figure it out, but I’m just not happy with it. I’m not sure if I need to chuck it out and start fresh/rework it from the bottom up, or if it just doesn’t end in a satisfactory way, but I’m going to take another week to figure it out. . 

[angelltheninth]

Arcane Characters Make Food for You

Pairing: Jinx, Vi, Caitlyn, Maddie, Ekko, Vander, Silco, Sevika, Viktor, Jayce, Mel x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, established relationship, domestic fluff, kissing, making food, teasing

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters

A/N: I already wrote this on my old blog but now is a good time to re-write it.

Jinx knows how to cook pretty well, surprisingly enough. Or maybe not so surprisingly given how she's always the one making things and experimenting. However that also means she might make some really weird meals.

It's something you'll have to deal with if you're with her and might have to develop a strong stomach. She already has it because she grew up in Zaun and ate a lot of different things. For you she wouldn't recommend some of them yet and she will try her best to make something that you'll like. And she won't get too offended if you don't eat her cooking right away.

"I made ya some breakfast, ta-da! It's a little sticky but don't worry, eat your fill and I'll clean up the mess later. Don't look at it like that, it might not look pretty but I promise ya it's so good. I could eat this every day. I hope I'll get to eat it together it with ya every day, sugar."

Vi doesn't know how to cook because she never had the opportunity to learn. The first few dishes are bad, like really bad, almost burn the toast and eggs type of bad but Vi she isn't the kind of person to give up. She'll keep trying until she gets it right.

There have been times where she did burn things and she won't let you eat it since it's not right. She wants you to have the best of the best, even if she didn't. Might get a little distracted when you're in the kitchen with her so she prefers to cook by herself even if you're there with her. Regardless of how many times she gets it wrong she at least wants to learn to cook your favorite.

"Yes, this is burned toast but this time it's not my fault, it's yours. Well you're the one who walked in here looking all cute and distracted me. One kiss is all it takes if it's from you, sweet stuff. Sit down and let me do this right and if you do you'll get something sweeter than this."

Caitlyn knows how to cook really well. She did grow up with people doing the cooking for her however she was curious and wanted to learn how to do it on her own. She's a very hand-on learner, now she can use some of her skills to make you happy.

She gets up really early anyways so she might as well make breakfast for the both of you. The first time she brings you breakfast in bed she thinks your reaction is cute, the way you stare at her, eyes wide and drooling over the food. For her it's not odd to have breakfast in bed. And if you stick with her you'll get used to her pampering you. Be sure to tell her how the food tastes.

"Good morning, darling, I brought you something. See, I didn't just brag about my cooking skills, this is me showing you I can cook. Showing off? Suppose I am a little bit, it's not my fault you didn't really think I would bring you breakfast in bed."

Maddie can cook some dishes but she can cook them well. Her skills aren't anything impressive but they don't need to be because she can get take out too. But she is more than happy to share what ever she makes with you.

She falls back on take out more often than she would like to admit. However not when she invites you over to her place, then she will put her best foot forward. A lot of that is because she wants to impress you hard, but it also gets her to work on her skills either way she wins. She keeps looking at you very intently while you take that first bite. Thankfully she doesn't seem to do a bad job if your smile is anything to go by.

"I'm not weird for watching you eat, it's called being smitten, gorgeous. Anything you do is interesting to me, you know that by now. This isn't empty flattery. I already got you to eat my cooking, I don't need to butter you up at this point."

Ekko isn't the best cook out there, he will be completely honest with you. While he does know the basic things you can't really expect anything fancy. If anything he focuses more on the dish being filling than tasty.

The thing about him cooking for the two of you is that he can only do it on his free time, which isn't a lot. Therefore he wants to make it a bonding activity. A cute date of sorts, mostly in the late evening when the rest of work is done. Sometimes he will try to surprise you but its hard when his living space isn't that big and everyone knows everything in the Firelights. The gesture counts.

"There wasn't much time so it's pretty simple, but at least it's your favorite, Firefly. No, I actually finished the new project, I had extra time to kill. Please, don't thank me! It seemed only right for me to make you something after you cheered me up this morning."

Vander knows how to cook really, really well. He kids to raise, and he was on his own for a very long time, he had to become a good cook. Plus he makes awesome drinks, being a good cook was a bonus skill for him.

He's always the first one to wake up and start the day in the Last Drop and he always makes breakfast for everyone. Not just breakfast but every meal, his kids need to eat a lot, there's always a little left over for later. Even if he feels a little sleepy himself he at least wants to put something on the table. It's the dad instincts in him. And husband instincts, hopefully.

"Don't ya even think about sneaking up on me right now, darlin'. I've got a pan full of sizzling hot oil in my hand, I don't want it all over us. Hugs are fine, I always love ya being close to me, but keep your hands to yourself. We both know ya get handsy in the morning."

Silco didn't know how to cook before he adopted Jinx, since then he's had to learn. It wasn't easy but now he does know a lot and he can impress the woman he's dating. Now when you stay over you can expect good for for your date, and good food when you wake up.

When the dating gets more serious he lets you help him cook, but until then he pretty much does it on his own. Jinx will go nowhere near the kitchen alone, not after that one explosion. He does have a list of recipes that he makes the most. And a few that he made up. Sometimes ingredients are hard to come by so he needs to improvise.

"Pass me the flour would you, love? This time I will follow the recipe, yes, the last time there was a bit too much sugar in there. I know you liked it but it's not the healthiest thing now is it? Fine, call me a worried dad, I know you think it's attractive."

Sevika isn't able too cook that well, she never was, she always liked others cooking for her though. However when you tease her about it she takes it as a challenge. And you know damn well that she doesn't back down from a challenge.

Curses a lot when she messes up, though you can bet that she's not gonna let food be the thing that beats her. When you walk into the kitchen it's a mess which will take a while to clean up. But at least she managed to make the dish this time and it's quite good. For her hard work you give her a very passionate kiss and that just makes her wanna work harder. That's the best reward she can ask for.

"One kiss for at that work, doll? I think I earned myself a little more than that, maybe you on the table instead of all this food. Yeah, I know it's gonna get cold, you're right. Can't let all this hard work go to waste, but when we're done we have to work all that food off."

Viktor doesn't have as much time to cook as he could if he worked a bit less. Not that his skills are award worthy but he can make a few things, at least in his opinion. Give his cooking a chance.

When he was a student in the academy he had to learn how to make quick meals and that is where most of his strength is. Just very simple dishes but he knows how to make them well. There are times when he himself forgets to eat so he makes sure he gets a good meal when he can. If you're part of that that's even better. Having you eat his cooking makes cooking more fun.

"If you think cooking this is so easy then you make it will you, beautiful? Ah so now you like it, I see how it is. I'm just kidding, I love making food for you when I can. But if you want to make it yourself please let me do a taste test first. I promise to be brutally honest, just like you are with me."

Jayce has absolutely no skills in the kitchen unless you need him to fix or build things in there. He knows this too and will admit it right away. Trust him he is much better in science than in cooking food.

That being said he will join you in the kitchen when you cook. He takes an interest in it because the way you cook makes his mouth water. When he learns about what your favorite food is he wants to lean how to cook it. However he does this in secret because he wants to surprise you. Sure enough he's able to get the biggest smile out of you when he presents you with your favorite meal.

"I learned it secretly, all for you, babe. Well I am quite good with my hands and I enjoy working, that was just another excuse to learn. Of course I don't have an ulterior motive for it! But if I did... and if it was kissing... would you kiss me for doing a good job?"

Mel is actually an amazing cook and knows a ton of recipes. Including your favorites of course. Do you really think she'd invite you over and offer you nothing to eat?

It's been a long time since she had to cook for anyone but herself but she's not bad at it at all. She has high standards when it comes to good food specifically because she holds herself to high standards. It doesn't matter how simple or complicated the meal is. When she invites you over and offers to make you food you better believe you're eating good that night. Not strictly food either.

"Beloved, slow down a little, the food isn't going anywhere and neither am I. We have all night. Every time I make food I do so because I want to enjoy a good meal, and you should too. And please be careful, I don't want you to choke, on the food that is."

[shalscumbunny]

The male members of the Gen'ei Ryodan and their S/O's breasts

TW: Female S/O, abuse, fondling, forced intercourse, forced touching, mild torture, pregnancy, breeding kink, forced pregnancy, sexist, misogynist, breastfeeding, yandere, kidnapping and minor injuries

Author's note: I am humanly incapable of writing about Bonolenov (I feel weird), an apology to the fans (if there are any)

Phinks:

Honestly, whenever I think of Phinks, I think of someone who is rough even if he doesn't mean to be, not as rough as Uvogin, but he tends to be a bit aggressive when he has you sitting on his lap facing forward. He knows you're blushing and he doesn't care to embarrass you further, even though he has that stoic expression you know he's enjoying it, you know he's enjoying hearing you whimper and moan as his big hands knead your breasts. After all you feel his hard erection press against you. I don't really think of him as a breast man though (I'm of the inclination that he's a thigh man), so after playing with you for a while he'll just put you on all fours and fuck you hard.

Uvogin:

I have mixed feelings here, just like Phinks, I don't feel like he's a breast man (I think he's a die-hard fan of asses). But unlike Phinks who just hangs around to get bored, Uvogin doesn't mind spending a long time kneading your poor, aching breasts with his huge, calloused hands. You feel his hard penis rub against your pussy as you cry, watching through your tears as he bites, sucks and pulls at your poor breasts. Your breasts will probably be covered in bruises, small wounds and injuries the next day, making him puff out his chest with pride.

Franklin:

Unlike the previous ones, I feel that despite that rough and corpulent build, Franklin is a soft man, he likes your breasts (And yes, I feel that he likes breasts 100%), regardless of their size or shape, they simply captivate him. He usually takes you gently while licking and sucking your breasts making you moan, he sniffs your essence carefully and usually guides you in the way he likes. A pleasure where the majority usually wins.

Feitan:

I'm not going to put it up for discussion, Feitan is a man who loves breasts (And for some reason I feel like he loves small breasts the most and don't ask me why). If Feitan isn't rubbing your breasts, sucking and biting your poor nipples, sadly it's something else. I feel like one way to represent his love and dominance over his S/O is torture. Feitan doesn't see his S/O as an equal, so he doesn't care about your opinion or consent. So sadly sometimes you're tied to a chair with little electric clamps stimulating your poor sore nipples while he forces you to suck his cock. You know he's turned on, his gaze isn't very expressive, but he has that sick sadistic smile on his face, his cock vibrating in your throat.

Nobunaga:

I don't feel like he's a die-hard fan of breasts (He's a thigh man), but he likes to make you feel good and mark you as his. Just like your thighs, neck and shoulders, your breasts are also decorated with little bruises. He's a big groper, he just can't get enough of you because he loves you so much, so sometimes he doesn't mind leaning you on a counter and groping your breasts while he bites your shoulder and his cock pushes hard against your pussy for several hours without rest, until he leaves you dumb, with your pussy and uterus full of his cum, your breasts swollen and overstimulated. He's a man who's a fan of new experiences, so he's willing to suggest (coerce) you to try to masturbate him with your breasts, growling as he feels your soft mounds embrace his hard cock and then grabbing your hair to make you suck his swollen tip.

Chrollo:

Chrollo is a curious being in every aspect and that includes the human body, especially YOUR body. I feel that even though it may not seem like it sometimes, he likes mysticism, when it comes to you, he believes in soulmates, he is a true believer that you and him are pieces of a puzzle. He loves you deliberately, he is obsessed with you and everything about you, he needs you, in every aspect. Even though I personally feel that his S/O's favorite body part is her thighs, he also loves breasts. He fucks you by making you sit on his fat cock, both of you sitting anywhere, be it the living room, the bathroom or the corner of the bed. His hot, cum-filled balls squished by your slippery slit. He is thrusting at a good pace inside you, deep and somewhat slow, looking to fill you strongly. He's pleased by your expressions and moans, he grunts when your rubbery walls squeeze his cock, he growls into your breasts and moans, after giving you a dirty kiss on the mouth he lowers his head until he latches onto your nipple, he sucks and sucks it like he's hungry while his arms wrap around your waist tightly. He pounds into you in a messier way while he licks and sucks your nopples, completely obsessed with those dirty faces you make. He doesn't plan on stopping, he's got a long way to go with you, he loves latching onto your nipple and being one with you. Obviously we know that his goal is to possess you and please you, and he's probably also trying to impregnate your sweet pussy with his child.

Hisoka:

He's a big fan of ass and I'm not willing to argue about it, but that doesn't stop him from suggesting (forcing) you to use flavored body lotions. He lets out that hungry giggle as he latches onto your bubble gum flavored nipples while his fingers with sharp nails move in your tight, wet pussy, obviously those sharp nails hurt and injure your poor pussy making it bleed slightly, but you're used to it by this point, so you just moan and gasp excitedly, tears rolling down your red cheeks. I'll add as an additional note that since Hisoka is a man with such eccentric tastes, he'll probably at some point force you to wear piercings on those cute nipples of yours, maybe pink ones or heart-shaped ones, or if he's really crazy probably one of your nipples will end with an "H" and the other with an "M"

Illumi:

We've talked about this before, a relationship with Illumi without children is impossible, no matter if you're infertile, in this fictional world of HxH, he's willing to find any way for you to get pregnant with his children. Illumi is the kind of man who won't let you leave his bed until a pregnancy test comes back positive, which he so desperately wants. Apart from the fact that even though he loves you and doesn't know how to show it, in this relationship you don't have the right to have an opinion, so you have to accept and adapt. It doesn't matter if you beg him on your knees that you don't want a baby, he doesn't care, he won't listen to you either, he is a true believer that you will become fond of the baby. Due to his upbringing, he has somewhat misogynistic and sexist tendencies, so, since you are his wife, your duty is to accept the children he wants to give you and obey him (The best thing for your mental health is to do so). He's not very good at expressing that he wants it, you've rarely seen him with more than one expression, so learning to decipher it will take you a GOOD time. Only his face usually changes a couple of times and one of those times is when he's fucking you, his face looks slightly more relaxed and even if he tries, the pleasure is something difficult to hide even for a cold-blooded killer like him. Even though sex is very mechanical with him, it's not bad, he gives it to you hard, strong and moderately fast while sucking your breasts occasionally, he will NEVER admit it to anyone, but they are a part of your body that usually generates attraction and curiosity in him. But once he left you round and swollen with his child, now your breasts are a part of your body that obsesses him. He just feels his cock harden when he notices how they grow day by day, preparing to nourish his future child. Of course Illumi doesn't stop fucking you when you're pregnant, on the contrary, he fucks you more, because he simply gets excited seeing you pregnant and swollen with his baby. He spends so much time sucking on your breasts during sex that your milk production gets too early, that only makes him obsessed with your breasts even more. Now he fucks you hard, rubbing the baby inside you with the palm of his cold hand while he fills his mouth with your sweet milk, panting and grunting on your swollen nipple, at the same time, your other nipple drips small jets of milk onto the bed. When you give birth he gives you privacy with the baby when nursing, although it's funny because the baby looks like its father, hugging your breast and latching onto your nipple trying to swallow as much milk as possible. Years later and after 4 babies, it's really comforting and strange for you that Illumi doesn't change, he's not very expressive or affectionate, but he likes to be with you, he doesn't feel disgusted by the after-effects of pregnancies on your body, on the contrary, he tends to be attracted to them He rarely smiles except when you greet him after a long day of murders, with two children hidden behind your skirt, another in a sling on your back, another in your arms sucking milk from your nipple and well, another on the way developing in your swollen belly. When Illumi calls the nannies to take the children away and leave you alone, he really just wants to latch onto your generous milk-filled breasts and fuck your pregnant pussy.

Shalnark: (Everything I say about Shalnark is 100% canon and I don't allow anyone to question it). Shalnark LOVES, NEEDS and ADORES your breasts. He loves them for everything, he uses them as a pillow when he's sleepy or wants you to cuddle him, he loves to cuddle and warm up there, he has a smile on his face whenever he's there, you really think he's just missing starting to purr while rubbing his head there and hugging your waist. He's an addict and he doesn't even think about asking you for permission to touch them, for Shalnark they're his, they belong to him, he enjoys buying you only low-cut clothes to look at them all the time and have easy access to them. He doesn't even need to have his cock buried in your pussy to start sucking on your breasts, it can just be at any time, sometimes you're relaxing in bed reading a book and he'll come over, open your shirt and start sucking and licking them with his eyes closed while hugging your waist. Other times he will call you while he is working on his computer, ask you to sit on his lap and continue working while his cock is buried in your pussy and his mouth is sucking on your nipple. Obviously above all, he loves sucking your breasts while he fucks you on the bed, pushing his hips against yours while the tip of his penis hits your cervix hard. His mouth licking, biting and sucking all over your breast, leaving it with marks, bruises, bites and saliva. I mentioned before in this profile that Shalnark does not like the idea of ​​having children, he really does not want any, but he would probably have something similar to what Illumi did with your breasts if he were to get you pregnant and agreed to allow you to continue with the pregnancy. But on the other hand, you would end up producing milk whether you were pregnant or not, since the stimulation is so great that your breasts begin to fill with milk and of course Shalnark will not allow a single drop to go to waste.

Thank you very much for reading me, if you want a version with the female members of the Gen'ei Ryodan let me know 🖤

[hellenhighwater]

Mildly weird question for story research purposes: when your cats ride on your shoulder, what does it feel like for you?

Context: My main character has a cat who likes to ride around on her shoulder, and since it's a thing that happens frequently, I'm trying to make sure I write about it well. And, unfortunately, I do not have a cat to even attempt to test it with, so I'm going to the one person I KNOW has experience with this situation.

Specific things that would be helpful to know:

Do you have to be careful not to upset their balance, or can you more or less walk normally once they're up there?

How are they keeping themselves up there? Are there claws involved? Or just good balance?

Where's most of their weight? I looked back at some pictures/vids, and it looks like they typically ride with their front paws on the shoulder and their back paws somewhere a bit below and beside your neck, but I could be wrong.

How long can they stay on your shoulder before one of you has to take a break? Is the weight of the cat tiring, or is it pretty easy to deal with?

Anything else I should be aware of regarding shoulder cats?

Thank you SO MUCH for your help!

Oh, I can definitely answer that! One: It's waaay easier to shoulder a small cat than a big one.

For the most part, they kind of drape themselves over the shoulder; this is specifically what I've trained them to do. Cats will also "shoulder" by draping across both shoulders/back of neck, but this forces your head forward to allow room for them, and it's not comfy. Hence the trained posture. (Malice, in the early days:)

I taught Mal to jump up when I bent forward for her, and circle to face front while I stood up. She can actually do that pretty quickly. Their weight is pretty evenly distributed across the top of the shoulder and down on the pectoral, not really on the back at all. Mal sometimes hooks her back claws into my shirt near the shoulderblade, which is more about balance than weight support. Nim, who was significantly smaller, actually kept her back feet tucked up so that her feet were on the top of my shoulder. This is a significantly more ready posture than Mal's--she would have to readjust for a better foothold to jump down; Nim could leap directly off at a moment's notice. Overall, Nim had far superior shouldering skills to Mal. Malice rides like the meatball she is; I'm hoping she'll learn with age. Here's some pictures of Nim:

To give them a stable position, I do keep my back straight and shoulders back; if I have to pick something up, I will crouch down instead of bending over. If I have to bend forwards, I will put my palm up flat so that they can stand with their front paws on it and keep their body on my shoulder. Generally, I can move, walk, and even work normally. I've cooked, painted, done chores, even run. Both hands are free to use, though generally you can't lift the arm the cat is on above a T position. They don't need to use their claws for balance unless I am doing something really active. I do shoulder almost exclusively on my left shoulder, so that my dominant hand is more free.

The weight is not significant--Nim was only about 8 lbs, Mal is about 11, and because there's no grip to maintain them and they're naturally situated on the shoulder, it's easy to carry them for a long time. I used to walk miles with Nim on my shoulder. It's actually more the heat--cats run hot, and it's a lot of fur on your neck and shoulder if it's warm out. Great in the winter, though!

Notable things you might not realize--their head is in front of yours, so you can still see ear positions, what they're looking at, etc. Nim's night vision/hearing/sense of smell was better than mine, so I could tell if we were sneaking on wildlife based on her reactions and responses to things. You can also feel them tense or adjust posture before they jump or try to get down, and you can feel their tail moving. You can also feel if they're growling or purring, even if you can't hear it. If you're used to paying attention to those cues, you'll notice them while just carrying the cat normally too--Nobody could sneak up behind me if I was carrying Nim facing over my shoulder to the back.

They can jump from shoulder height but it's a hard landing. Usually if I want them down, I just kneel with a knee up, or lift a leg flat while standing so they can jump to the top of my leg and then to the ground.

If I was in a fictional setting and traveling with them long term, I would be investing in a really weird piece of leather armor, that goes to the edge of the neck/crest of shoulder, and down past the bottom of the shoulderblade, with little easy-to-grip leather loops or chainmail on the back of the shoulder.

[disneyprincemuke]

not a gamer * fem!driver

lando manages to convince her to start streaming on twitch with him, leading her to influence others to join her

pairings: max verstappen x fem!driver, lando norris x fem!driver, oscar piastri x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver

warnings: butt load of stupidity

notes: initially, i was gonna write a fic solely about max because he was talking about fornite the other day... but i thought how funny would it be if it were to be with some of the guys so here i am

(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)

"hello, everyone," she smiles, reaching forward to adjust the camera as she squints her eyes. "is this a good angle? let me know if it's flattering, okay? i can't not look good on twitch."

lando has managed to convince her to join him for a stream on twitch, insisting that she should start an account as well. she initially refused, claiming that she's not that well-liked to start an account and have a loyal following. even adding on the fact that she's not even a good gamer to begin with.

but lando said that it doesn't matter, and proved her wrong by setting up a poll on his previous stream just to get her to make an account. which, the effort was very endearing.

"you always look good," she squints, turning away the right where her other monitor sits. she scrunches her nose and turns to the camera to stare into it. "logan, how did you even know i was streaming tonight?"

she rolls her eyes when his reply rolls in, claiming that he follows her twitter where she announced it. "it's time for you to go out and do something else besides stalking me, logan," she scoffs jokingly with the roll of her eyes.

"okay, so this is my first twitch stream!" she beams, sitting up straighter as she grabs her mouse. "i'm just waiting for lando to finish setting up, so i'm afraid you guys are stuck with me alone for a couple of minutes. let's get to know each other, i might be doing this pretty often this winter break just to have a bit of a hobby.

"i wanna know what you guys want to see from me."

a comment immediately rolls in.

user1: i wanna see you play fortnite with lando and max

she grins sheepishly, dropping her head. "guys, i'm not much of a gamer. never have been so this is actually my first time-ish touching games in a long while. my longest experience was playing roblox with my younger brother when we were younger."

user2: how about oscar or logan playing some games?

she presses her lips together, thinking of ways she could be able to convince her best friends to join her for some online games. when, neither of them has really dabbled much in the hobby. "i'm sure logan will be pretty keen to try, but i'm not so sure about oscar. i'll try to convince him, though he's back in australia for the majority of the break, unfortunately. the timezone difference is absolutely insane."

logansargeant: guys, ask her what her hobbies are

"logan, get off my chat!"

logansargeant: im gonna expose you on twitter for cyberbullying

logansargeant: #endcyberbullying2023

user3: #justice4logan

user4: #justice4logan

user5: u should talk about taylor swift

“oh, my god! i should!” she squeals. “we should host a listen party when she releases reputation! how good was the 1989 vault tracks?”

user6: omg ur so right

user7: iion slaps

user8: slut! is my favourite i think

“1989 had the best vault tracks,” she nods, lips pressed together. “my favourite is ‘now that we don’t talk’ because i like calling my mom.”

blythe.yln: where is lando!!!

“guys, i don’t know. he texted me 5 minutes ago saying he was setting up his pc,” she grins into the camera. “hopefully he’s here soon.”

dalton.yln: i miss oscar

oscahpastry: i miss u too

“you’ve got phones, yeah?” she grins, “use it instead of flooding my chat.”

user1: yeah guys, some of us are trying to get her attention

user9: u guys get that enough

user10: leave some for us pls

user11: yeah y so selfish

she scoffs. "right, guys? can you believe these people?"

the discord sound makes her jump, lando's voice filling up her headphones. "yo, i'm sorry! i was looking for my keyboard."

"where'd you find it, lando?"

"under the bed. apparently, that's where i kept it the last time i streamed," lando laughs. "okay, let's start off with a little horror game? it's called phasmophobia."

"a scary game?" she looks at the camera. "why would i willingly play that?"

"lando, i'm gonna kill you!" she screeches, eyes closing as the creepy sounds from the game boost in her headphones. she peeks through her eye, watching the two hands on her screen before the screen goes foggy.

lando's laughter replaces the eerie sounds of the game, making her roll her eyes. "i told you to hide and close the door!”

“i didn’t know where the stupid door even was!” she screams back, slamming the table. “lando, i don’t wanna play this game anymore!”

“but it’s so fun!”

“lando!”

logansargeant: that was funny

logansargeant: lemme join u some time

user11: omg

user11: half the grid’s gonna be on twitch?

“yeah, i’m so nice, right?” she jokes. “i’m letting them explore different career options. influencer era or something, i believe.”

oscahpastry: i only created an account to annoy her :/

seb.v5: same

user12: no shot thats actually sebastian vettel

maxverstappen1: so we are all just here waiting for an invite from these two???

logansargeant: theyre gatekeeping the stream from us :(

maxverstappen1: i wanna play fortnite

seb.v5: wait i know that game

maxverstappen1: let me join or i’ll report your account

“that’s not very nice, max,” she frowns. she looks away for a second. “lando, max says he’ll report my account if we don’t invite him to play fortnite.”

“oh, let him report you. just make another account, mate!” lando laughs. “ask him to join us phasmophobia! it’s so fun seeing you scream.”

she turns to the camera with a lopsided grin. “chat, tell lando you don’t wanna see me scream in phasmo anymore please. i’m sick of this game, i’ve got no idea what i’m doing, and i haven’t guessed the ghost correctly this entire time.”

logansargeant: keep playing phasmophobia u pussy

oscahpastry: yeah pussy

user5: its v entertaining icl

maxverstappen1: but phasmophobia costs money

“costs money?” she repeats, confusion on her face. “max? do you need financial aid?”

user10: isnt max a millionaire??????

user13: bro is complaining about a game that barely costs anything while getting paid millions a year 💀

oscahpastry: that’s wild ngl

maxverstappen1: wow i just got cyberbullied.

maxverstappen1: i’ll go get it now damn.

she sighs. “guess we’re continuing with this stupid game.”

“lando, where am i going?” max shouts, her character watching max’s go around in circles, flickering the flashlight on and off. “what am i even supposed to do?”

teaching one person how to play a complicated game like phasmophobia is easy. teaching two, however, is absolutely absurd. lando doesn’t know how much more of this he can take.

“lando, there’s something written in the book!” she cheers, crouching her character down. she leans into her monitor as she tries to make out what it says. “bitch, it says run!”

she quickly gets up and walks out. “don’t have to tell me twice.”

“run where?” max shouts, his character still running in circles. “(y/n), where are you? escort me out.”

“guys, just stay inside the house and help me out!” lando whines, his character flickering the flashlight at max’s. “turn around, max. i’m here with you.”

“i’m going to the van.”

“no, you’re not! come here and camp the ghost with us!”

“absolutely not! i’m so scared shitless!”

“we should’ve just played fortnite, you know.”

“guys, please! you just have to hold the equipment for me.”

“oh, my god! oh, my god! the front door is locked!” she screams. “the front door is locked!”

logansargeant: lol dsurv

oscahpastry: not so tough now (y/n)

user8: LMFAO THAT GHOST IS HUNTIN

user14: dude the chaos is insane

user15: i need her to stream everyday actually

user16: she’s gonna be an influencer i can feel it in my bones

user17: u guys should try valorant

oscahpastry: i’d join if they play valorant

user4: omg thats crazy

user18: i kinda want to see it

user19: max playing valorant? the rage that man would feel

“lando, i’m dead again!” she screeches, slamming her mouse down into her desk. “we should’ve just played fortnite.”

logansargeant: ur issues with the door are hilarious

user4: i’ll be thinking about your inability to hide in a room for days

oscahpastry: evidence that u wouldnt survive a horror movie at all

seb.v5: maybe you should stick to sitting there and looking pretty

user20: OMG SEB CALLED HER PRETTYYYYY

user21: are we all so shocked?

user22: yeah, he looks at that girl like she aligns the stars in the sky on a race weekend

user23: him during her podium celebration cured my depression (real)

logansargeant: girl why r u just stalking lando as a ghost

“lando,” she whispers. “i saw the ghost in the corner for the room.”

“what?” max asks, voice trembling slightly. “what corner?”

“that corner.”

“what corner?”

“there. i’m pointing at it.”

“i can’t see you, stupid. you’re dead.”

“then that’s too bad.”

“i figured what type of ghost it is!” lando cheers. “follow me, max. let’s get out of this stupid house and play your stupid fortnite or something.”

“oh, how lovely! i saw (y/n)’s chat… something about valorant,” max mutters, following lando through the dark house. “i’ve seen that on tiktok and it looks kinda- lando, why’d you close the door?”

“i told you i saw the ghost lurking more than usual,” she mutters.

“i don’t even know what that means!” max shouts.

“i didn’t close the door, mate!” lando laughs. “go and hide in a room, max!”

“where? i don’t know where to go!” max screams, frantically running around in hopes of finding solace somewhere.

her character follows behind the entity in the game, clearly running around to find max. “oh, she’s coming for you, max! she’s angry!”

“i don’t know where to go!” max screams, his character running by the entryway in confusion. “lando, where do i go?”

“max, she’s coming! go in the closet!”

“what closet? oh, okay! i see it!”

“close the door, max!”

“what door- oh! okay!”

“did he live?”

“i think so. the ghost is lurking outside max’s door,” she grins into the camera, watching the entity walk back and forth outside the room max is in.

“don’t come out yet.”

“not even a chance, mate.”

“okay, she’s gone,” she sighs. “i’m gonna log out and create an account on fortnite.”

“we’re not gonna play valorant?”

“okay, chat, we’re waiting for oscar to finish the tutorial,” she smiles. “we should be in our first game in a couple of minutes.”

user24: bro ur tutorial was horrendous

user25: i love watching people be bad at valorant

user26: shes so real for that though

user27: she’d play sage for sure

seb.v5: i can’t believe you got oscar to join you

user28: and logan 🤨

user17: outrageous that i’ve been begging the grid to join lando’s streams and here she comes casually getting them to play silly games

user3: real

user28: everyone say thank you (y/n)

blythe.yln: i can’t believe u didnt ask me to join u

blythe.yln: i’m the best at valorant

blythe.yln: i’m better than dalton

user29: YES BLYTHE SPEAK YOUR TRUTH

“so, what do i do again, dalton?” lando asks softly. “what’s the ‘e’ button do?”

“puts up a wall,” the younger kid says. “and then it heals you too, but damages other people. even your teammates.”

“who’s this eminem looking bro?” max asks, giggling slightly. “frank ocean, i saw on tiktok.”

user30: my roman empire is blythe being a pro valorant player but this is the first time her sister is trying the game

“well, i’m sorry for doing other things than playing valorant,” she jokes with a smile. “but, yes, guys! blythe plays valorant for a living which is exactly why we didn’t invite her to play.”

user31: blythe is a pro val player!!?!?!?

user31: since when??

blythe.yln: yeah guys follow my twitch, i’ll treat u better

“i’m going to ban you from my chat if you keep marketing, blythe,” she frowns, though a smile creeping up on her face. “where is dalton?”

blythe.yln: dalton is my valorant spawn… i taught him what he knows

user31: dalton to go pro in a couple years?

user32: omg that’s crazy

user1: the yln’s are gonna take over the valorant scene

user6: blythe getting a redbull gaming clutch would be to die for

“mate, dalton, what’s this girl in the yellow jacket do? she looks stylish,” oscar asks.

“she’s got a turret and grenades,” dalton answers simply.

“alright, how do i get her?”

“you gotta play the game.”

“oh, what? that’s so unfair.”

“yeah, i’m sure that sucks that you’ve got to play the game, oscar,” she says. “where is logan?”

“i’m sorry,” the sigh in logan’s sentence making her laugh. “i got stuck.”

“how?” oscar asks with a laugh. “they literally tell you what to do.”

“i couldn’t find the buttons they were asking me to press,” logan mumbles with a hint of disappointment.

“are you actually intellectually hindered, mate?” she cries with a laugh, covering her eyes. “do you not frequent a laptop?”

“not really, no.”

“it shows,” oscar adds on.

blythe.yln: he’s gonna be shit

user5: so real i can alr see it

user11: dude they’re gonna be screaming at each other soon

“let’s do a quick test game,” dalton mutters as logan’s in-game name pops up on the screen. “just a short game.”

“with real people?” lando asks in a small voice. “that can trash talk me?”

“just trash talk them back, mate,” max answers. “easy.”

“just find their ip address and hit them,” logan suggests. “that’s easier.”

“what?”

“don’t pretend like you wouldn’t do it too, (y/n)!” logan whines. “come on, let’s start!”

“how do i defuse the spike?” max screams, looking at the ground as he runs around. “where even is it?”

“your left,” dalton says. “keep walking.”

blythe is now sat next to her older sister, leg propped up in her seat as she watches the screen.

“okay, okay, go to the right and look right here,” blythe mutters, pointing at the screen. “and then aim right here,” she adjusts her sister’s mouse, “when you see somebody, shoot.”

“that’s not fair. (y/n)’s literally got a pro helping her with the game,” oscar complains.

“you’re dead. literally doesn’t matter if someone’s helping you or not,” logan states. “we suck, man.”

“okay, i figured out how to defuse the bomb,” max says softly. “what now?”

“learn to play better,” blythe says loud enough for the microphone to pick up her voice. “i’ll teach you guys.”

“thank you for tuning into my stream,” she grins with a clap. “i appreciate all of the support and teaching me how to play the games. and roasting me.”

logansargeant: bro we suck

seb.v5: should stick to racing and leave gaming to blythe and dalton

“i read each and every comment you guys sent in the chat and they’re all very endearing. except yours, seb,” she stares into the camera with a stern expression, “yours were just outright unnecessary and kinda mean.”

oscahpastry: start a podcast next

maxverstappen1: i wanna be first guest

user16: please stream regularly!!

user10: make oscar play lethal company or i’ll cry

oscahpastry: stop giving her ideas

user21: when r u streaming again

“i will try to stream in a couple of days, after my shoots and marketing stuff with the team,” she grins. “thank you for watching me scream for 4 hours. catch you guys soon. stay kind and stay safe.”

user2: i’ll miss you 🫶🏼

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @inejismywife @vellicora @leilanixx @meadhgbcavanagh @2bormaybenot @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @cashtons-wife @love4lando @sadg3 @bborra @a10vely-yutazen @mellowarcadefun

[hornychristianprincess]

wasted (leehan x fem reader) pt 3

paring: leehan x fem reader genre: smut, fluff, angst, fuckboy!leehan word count: 15k bc i'm a slut for this man SRFKLHSDLK summary: everything in your life is affected as your relationship with leehan progresses. warnings: explicit sex scenes, oral (male and female receiving), expressions of insecurity and self-esteem issues should you wish to read on ao3, click HERE.

At the library on a Saturday night, you, Leehan, Riwoo, and Giselle sit at the same table, studying for your approaching midterms. 

“Y/N,” says Leehan. “Can you send me the pdf file you found for the English textbook?”

You nod, quickly finding the file on your phone and airdropping it to Leehan the Lion . “Just sent it.”

“Thanks,” he mutters, before returning to writing notes on his laptop. 

This is about as exciting as your interactions get with Leehan when you’re among your group of friends, studying or going to the caf or finding some event on campus to go to. 

It was the ultimate whiplash, then, to experience Leehan when you were alone. 

Because in the month or so that’s passed since the night of the lunar eclipse, every few days you could look forward to the what are you doing? text that usually led up to some of the most satisfying, passionate sex of your life.

The friends-with-benefits arrangement the two of you were in had quickly become the center of your life. It felt like you were always in limbo as you awaited his latest text, and when you got it, it didnt’t matter what you were doing – you were always ready to surrender to him, to surrender to pleasure that was beginning to feel like the only thing that made you excited to wake up some days.

You had sex sometimes three, sometimes five times a week. Where it happened didn’t really matter to either of you — in the bathroom at a party, the confines of your dorm room, in the backseat of his car. 

Everything in your life had been shrunken to make space for what was now your top priority. 

And whatever negative impacts were to come of such decision-making were yet to be seen when it felt like the high you received from his attention was blinding everything else.

It was always weird to have to face him in settings like this the next day, to hear him speak to you so casually as if his face wasn’t buried between your legs less than 24 hours ago. Still, you kept up your end of this unspoken bargain to pretend as if you weren’t anything but acquaintances.

“I have midterms for every class. I’m feel like I’m gonna die of stress,” said Giselle, throwing her long brown hair over her shoulders. Giselle was one of the people who rode with Jaehyun during the lunar eclipse, and although you didn’t get much time to speak with her then, you’ve since gotten close by hanging out more. 

“That’s why you need to find the right vice. Food…drugs… orgasms, ” replies Leehan playfully, quirking a teasing eyebrow in her direction. He chuckles as Giselle rolls her eyes at him, and as much as you hate yourself for it, you can’t help but notice how his eyes linger on her even as she returns to her textbook.

Occasionally, you’ll observe the fact that the sense of humor and charm that made you fall for Leehan in the first place is not something that he reserves for only you, and it makes you just the tiniest bit sad. 

It’s nice to feel, even if it’s not true, like the moments you share alone in your bedroom are ones where he feels safe to show you things no one else gets to see. Like you hold the key to pieces of Leehan that no one else can access. 

So in times like these where you’re presented with evidence that says otherwise, it makes you feel like there is nothing special or significant about how you and Leehan got to where you were. Perhaps it was just a case of right place right time, like he could’ve met anyone – Giselle, even –  and done the same things he’s done with you.

Then again, the interaction you just observed could’ve been completely innocent and it’s you that’s overthinking it.

At the end of the day, if you were keeping score, the fact that you’re the first person with whom Leehan has offered up his body to on a regular basis feels like more than enough evidence that what you share is special.

In fact, you’re pretty sure he’s gonna fuck you after this.

You know because in the hour or so later when the library is about to close and you’re wrapping up your study session, he says, “Y/N, you live near the mail center, right? I’ll walk with you; I need to drop something off before I head home.”

It takes every bit of self control you have to not break out into a smirk – he knows exactly where you live, and it’s because you fuck there almost every time. “Sure,” you reply, in the most neutral voice you can possible muster.

“See you guys later,” you’re saying to Riwoo and Giselle as you pack up your things and head out. 

It’s past midnight and almost completely dark outside by the time you and Leehan leave, save for the few street lights that illuminate the sidewalk. For no reason in particular, it’s silent between the two of you. You might’ve found such an atmosphere to be awkward if it weren’t for the fact that your dorm was only a 5 minute walk away. And, when it comes to Leehan, you can never be too presumptuous in trying to interpret his moods; being the person that he is, something you’d usually interpret as disinterest could actually mean a plethora of non-threatning things for him.

On the way there, you approach what’s essentially an alleyway, a narrow space between two dorms that is deserted and dark. You don’t think anything of it until suddenly, you’re tugged inside of it and everything in your line of sight goes dark.

And before you can ask questions or react, your senses are flooded by the feeling of Leehan’s lips pressed against yours.

It’s amazing how your body adapts to the sudden gesture before your mind does. While it takes you a moment to internally acknowledge that you’re not in danger, your skin ignites with electricity the moment his lips touch yours. 

If a bystander were to observe the passionate, needy, almost desperate way he’s kissing you, they’d think that you’re someone he hasn’t seen in years, someone who he’s eager to make up lost time with. 

He doesn’t stop at just dominating your mouth with his tongue. His hands, like calloused vines, wrap themselves around your body, setting fire to whatever pieces of exposed skin he can find. And when you whimper against him, he adds to the sound with a groan of his own.

But no, this isn’t a kiss of two lovers who have been separated by time, or location. Leehan is just a person who is steadfast in his commitment to doing everything in his life earnestly. And it’s one of the many reasons why you are enamored by him.

When he pulls away to look at you, you can see even in the dark the expression of relief on his face. It’s as if kissing you was an urge he has been suppressing until now, and having gotten his fix, he’s left in a state of contentment.

“What was that for?” you ask, adrenaline and arousal running through your veins in such an fiery combination that you find your voice comes out weaker than usual.

“Just had to get it out my system,” is what he says indifferently in reply, and with his lips curling into a smirk, he heads out of the alleyway and continues on the path to your dorm. You follow him, feeling like the arousal you had been suppressing the entire time you were at the library with your friends has now doubled in a way that makes your knees wobbly as you walk.

It’s silent between the two of again as you approach the building to your dorm, although now you feel confident in assuming that it had always been searing sexual tension that was keeping him from being his usual talkative, bubbly self. 

It could be confusing to someone else, then, why — even as you’re locking the door to your room with him inside of it – you still aren’t all over each other in the way your earlier interactions might’ve preluded. 

But it’s because you just have one more confirmation you need to make before you can truly let go of your inhibitions, and that’s the question of, “Is your roommate here?”

Your roommate, lovely girl, would usually be here in the dorm at this time. But already having a feeling what you’d be getting up to tonight, you transparently informed her through text that im so so sorry but i’m out with you know who and i could reallllyyy use some dick tonight. buy you food to make up for it? just before you left the library.

“No. She’s out studying,” you tell Leehan. 

When you meet each other’s gazes, Leehan’s eyes sparkling as if he’s just been told he’s won the lottery, you can sense the exact moment when the both of you realize there’s no longer a need to wait. And so, like animals excitedly tearing up freshly-killed prey, it’s in a messy, rushed flurry of movements that you both take each other’s clothes off. 

Before Leehan, you don’t think you ever experienced an attraction for someone so intense that it caused you to push furniture over in the process of trying to get to the bedroom. But with him, the sound of a glass vase breaking doesn’t feel so concerning when you’re too busy trying to make it to the bed, take off his clothes, and not break your kiss all at once. 

There’s something so humorous about your shared vigor, causing you to both smile into the kisses you share, remaining playful even among such intensity. 

“You’re roommate’s a lovely person, isn’t she?” he remarks as he backs you up into your bedroom doorframe, throwing the jacket you had been wearing on your rug in the process. “I’ve gotta apologize to her one day. Poor girl’s had to hear so many things.”

You hate how much his words ring true, because truthfully, tonight was one out of several rare occasions in which you’ve been given enough foresight to warn your roommate before Leehan comes over. Other times, things between you two have blossomed too spontaneously for a warning, or, your phone died while you were out together, giving you no means to let her know he was arriving. 

“ Ew . Don’t talk about her like that. It’ll make me think you have a thing for her,” you reply in reference to the lovely person and poor girl attributions, and although you’re mostly joking, the insecurity from before about his interest in other women still remains present in the forefront of your mind.

And it’s not at all helped when, even jokingly, he makes remarks like, “Hey — I’d never say no to inviting someone else into our activities.”

At this point, you’re standing in nothing but a bra and panties in front of him, preparing to give your body up for his pleasure, which is why you think it’s fairly reasonable that you reach out to swat him in response to such cheekiness. 

But he seizes your wrists before you can make contact, laughing at your reaction in that way that, as annoying as it is to acknowledge right now, makes him look so, so sexy. “I’m kidding, baby,” he chides apologetically. “I’d never share you. Want you too fucking badly to even think about it.”

It’s in moments like these that you can’t help but get butterflies from Leehan, especially when he leans in to kiss you languidly right after. This habit he’s taken of calling you all sorts of pet names, from princess to baby to sweet girl, is something that has made your attraction to him increase tenfold. 

How could you help it, when his deep voice by itself is like a weapon specifically designed to torture you?

“Are you needy, baby?” asks Leehan teasingly, as his hand is now stuffed in your underwear, and his forehead is pressed against yours as he pushes you against the hard surface of your dresser and fingers you expertly. “Was what we did two days ago not enough? Did I not fuck you good enough?”

It’s actually because the sex from two days ago – and the day before that and the day before that and the days since you met him – was too good that you find yourself needing little stimulation to get wet at the thought of fucking him again. But of course, you don’t admit this, not needing his ego to get any larger than it is. “Shut up and fuck me.”

But Leehan doesn’t pay your cheek any mind, reacting only with a scoff as he busies himself with getting on his knees in front of you. Pressing his face against the skin of your bare stomach, he remarks, “You smell like me. It’s so fucking sexy.”

Leehan is the most wayward person you’ve ever met. But you can surely count on him in moments like these to make your entire body feel like it’s on fire, knowing exactly what buttons to push and places to touch to get a rise out of you. All he does is leave chaste, delicate kisses along the skin from your sternum to your belly button, but the fact that he maintains eye contact as he does it, and the implication that he makes when he says, “And I bet you taste like heaven, too,” makes you feel like you’re experiencing something so ethereal it’s as if you’re out of your own body.

You’re looking down at him as he kisses at the spot just above your pussy, and it’s at that moment that you decide you want him too badly to wait any longer. Fingers that had once laced themselves in his hair now tug on the strands, pulling him up and off of you. “Leehan. Inside of me. Now.”

You watch as his eyes scan your face to tell if you’re being serious or not, and if you could see yourself through his gaze, you know you’d be convincingly earnest in your desire to have him. Once he confirms this for himself, he pops up from his previous position kneeling on the ground, and looks at you with his head cocked to the side in a expression of challenge. Pushing you up onto the dresser, he quirks an eyebrow to say, “Have I ever told you that I find you sexiest when you’re telling me what to do?”

At this, you smile, playing into his confession by commanding, “Kiss me,” before leaning in to meet his lips. And when his hand travels between your legs, you know it’s not to touch you, but to reach into the top drawer of your dresser where you’ve allowed him to stash some condoms. It’s with excitment that you hear him tear open the package, sliding the latex onto his hardened cock.

There’s a moment just before he lines his cock up with your slit where he pulls away from your lips, reaching a hand out to hold your jaw in place so that your eyelines are level. And when he simply just stares at you silently, allowing his eyes to graze your features with an awe-stricken expression on his face, you can’t help but look away as the intensity of his admiration becomes overwhelming.

He chuckles at your obvious shyness, hand never leaving your jaw as he continues to view you like you’re a delicate statue he’s entranced by. “Don’t you think it’s too late to be shy after everything we’ve done together?” he says jokingly, and even though you feign disagreement with a roll of your eyes, you make no effort to suppress the smile that appears on your face as you bask in his teasing of you.

“I can’t help it,” you reply, comfortably meeting his gaze now. “You’re just really fucking handsome.”

You’re sure he’s heard these words hundreds of times in hundreds of ways, and yet you can see his eyes-widening as if you’ve said something sincerely touching. Perhaps the words hit differently when heard spontaneously, genuinely, without any pretense behind them.

It’s without any warning that Leehan pushes himself inside of you. Caught off guard by the feeling of his cock entering you inch by pleasurable inch, you can only make a mental note to apologize to him later as your fingernails dig into the skin of his back. Luckily, he doesn’t seem to mind, too focused on leaning his forehead against yours and watching with greedy eyes as his cock enters your pussy and leaves it with a creamy sheen. 

“Jesus fucking christ, Y/N,” he remarks in awe, managing the words through a shaky exhale as he moves to hook his arms underneath your thighs. He pulls your body closer to the edge of the dresser, bringing his cock even deeper inside of you. He hasn’t even started fucking you properly yet, and still you let out a series of elongated sighs and moans, wrapping your arms around his neck for a sense of comfort.

It’s when you’re completely pressed together in a skin-to-skin embrace that he finally begins to thrust inside of you at a pace that you’re used to. As clumsy and unsure as he can sometimes be, Leehan never fucks you erratically. It’s always with a controlled, focused pace that he pistons his hips into yours, knowing your body so well that you never have to tell him when to slow up or go faster. 

When you first met Leehan, you couldn’t understand the concept of kissing being considered an intimate act between two lovers. 

But now, as he leans in to press his mouth against yours, his tongue exploring the depths of your mouth, it’s with suprsing clarity that you realize why some people like to refrain from kissing entirely when they hook up with someone. 

You’re at your most smitten when being passionately tongue-kissed through an unforgiving onslaught of thrusts, a part of you wishing that this sex could become a permanent fixture in your life and not just a transactional, temporary high.  

It’s only when he slots a hand between your bodies to tweak at your clit that it becomes impossible for you to meet his kiss, feeling too much pleasure to hold back your open-mouthed cries. Leehan then moves to kissing your neck, and it’s some of the most sensual affection you've ever received as he allows his tongue to drag across your skin, suctioning his lips on sections of your shoulder where you’re sure he’s leaving hickies. 

He goes up your body in this sequence until he reaches your ear, mumbling, “You take care of my cock so well,” as he licks at the shell of your ear and sinks his teeth onto your earlobe. “It’s why I’m never coming off of you. It’s too fucking good for me to stop.”

Transfixed by the sound of his voice, the feel of his cock, and the stimulation you receive on your clit, you can feel that it’s only a matter of time before your pleasure reaches it’s crescending point. “Leehan,” you mumble out, grabbing onto fistfuls of his long hair as if it’s the only thing keeping you tethered to Earth. “Come with me.”

He denies this request with a click of his tongue, mumbling the words, “You first,” into your ear as his thrusts increase in impact. It’s in a sad attempt at a kiss that you press your mouth against his, feeling his intensity and passion just as the same even as you devolve into just grazing your tongue against his mouth. 

Your orgasm hits you in a feeling that’s akin to a bunch of puzzle pieces fitting perfectly together at once; the combination of his cock, his closeness, and his endless circling of your clit leaves your body seizing with what is surely one of the most pleasurable feelings of your life. 

And as you feel his movements becoming rapid and untethered, knowing that the feeling of your tighetning cunt will soon become too pleasurable for him to bear, it’s with satisfied foreboding that you watch him give you his last, hard thrust. 

There are a least of couple minutes that pass where neither of you move, the only sounds being your successive heavy breathing as you both come down from intense highs. Leehan makes the first move by carrying you your bed, where he plops you down on your back and makes a very sexy whimpering sound as he’s forced to pull out of you. 

Even once you’re separated, he still plops down on the bed to rest next to you. A forearm’s length apart, you long for him to touch you, even if just for a moment.

“Shit,” he mutters, an outburst that has you confused until you notice his eyes and their fixation with your bedside alarm clock. “I didn’t realize how late it is. I really don’t want to drive back to my apartment at this time.”

Then stay, is what you think to yourself, but these are words that you would never dare to actually vocalize. 

There was truthfully one instance just a month or so prior when you suggested he might leave a bookbag in your room so he didn’t have to walk home with it in the rain. Not too soon will you forget the way a usually upbeat Leehan turned cold on you within seconds, neglecting to say more than a see you later as he almost sprinted to leave your apartment.

You’d be lying if you said his eagerness to leave after the sex is finished wasn’t at least the slightest bit dismaying. 

The delusional part of you wishes he could at least pretend like he didn’t just come here to fuck you and nothing more. 

It would be nice to believe that the sheer enjoyment of your company would be enough to make him want to stay afterwards.  

And what’s worse is that every time, he comes up with some way to express how much he probably should stay. Like just now, how he mentioned how late it was. It frustrates you more than anything. 

Because no matter how much he says he doesn’t want to leave, he always does. 

And at this point, you wish he would just do it decisively instead of trying to soften the blow. 

“Did you hear about the party we’re having this weekend?” you hear him ask suddenly, his body in a sitting position as he gets up to put on his clothes. “Ha. We . Well, really Jaehyun.”

Though you find it difficult to have casual conversation with him when your mind is elsewhere, you indulge him with a truthful shake of your head. “No. What’s it for?”

“Halloween. He’s asking everyone to dress up,” says Leehan, having already made it to the other side of your room. If you were in more of a spirited mood, you might laugh at how he mentions dressing up for Halloween as if it’s something that’s beneath him. “Don’t worry that he didn’t tell you. He just came up with the idea yesterday. 

The fact that Jaehyun hadn’t mentioned the party to you wasn’t even a thought that occurred in your mind. You were more so concerned with the logistics of deciding to throw a party during midterms. Stressed beyond relief with your own course load, you couldn’t imagine deciding to attend anything extracurricular at this time of year.

But then, the idea of making such plans seems a lot more plausible when Leehan says, “Are you coming, pretty? I think it would be cute if we went with with matching costumes.”

It’s because of moments like these that your feelings for Leehan can be so conflicting. At the beginning of your day today, he sat around you with your other friends and acted as if you were nothing more than acquaintances. Followed you to your dorm and fucked you as sensually and passionately as a boyfriend would. Is getting dressed and preparing to leave within minutes of reaching his climax. And now, he calls you pet names in a non-sexual context and tells you he wants to wear a couple’s costume with you. Constantly affronted with gestures that are both hot and cold, you can never be too sure whether it’s you that’s delusional or him that’s sending mixed messages.

Nonetheless, you cannot help yourself from replying, “Sounds fun. I’ll be there,” even though you know you that you shouldn’t. Even though you know you have far too much on your plate academically to be going to a party on a school night. Even though you know your actions should not be so predated on his. Knowing all of this, you still find yourself not the least bit concerned, only excited, as you think about attending the party together.

“See you then, gorgeous. Have sweet, x-rated dreams about me,” is what he says as he finishes putting on his discarded clothes, standing in your bedroom doorway as he prepares to leave. His silhouette casts a shadow over your dimly lit room, covering your naked, vulnerable body. 

“Shut up,” you mumble weakly as you move to throw a pillow at him, a part of you wishing that all of your interactions felt as sweet as this one did.  

>you: hey i’m at the halloween store picking out costumes, what were you thinking?

Five minutes before you were planning to head out to Jaehyun’s party, you reread this text from two days ago over and over, the delivered in the corner almost taunting you. Just 13 words took you at least an half an hour to send because you couldn’t stop wondering if it was too vague or too forward or if you shouldn’t have even said anything all. 

And now, as you sit on the cold bench outside of your dorm waiting for your Uber to the party, wearing a cheap angel costume, you realize now what a mistake it was to send that text. 

You suppose the misunderstanding you’ve found yourself in started with your assumption – based on Leehan’s last words to you as he left your dorm just a few days ago – that you’d be shopping together to find matching costumes for Jaehyun’s party. 

But when the party was inching closer and he had yet to reach out, you ventured to a PartyCity on your own. It was then that you sent the text after much internal laboring, ultimatley thinking that maybe he was busy with midterms and would be grateful that you had taken the initiative on both your behalf's to buy the costumes.

Even as you were halfway through the checkout line and still nothing from Leehan, you bought a matching devil costume for him anyway, plastic red horns to match your sparkly halo. Maybe, when he was less busy, he’d eventually reach back out, still interested in going to the party with you and grateful you saved him the trouble of picking out a costume. 

In your mind, there were a billion rational possibilities for why he wasn’t responding that would still ultimately end in your original plans to attend the party and dress together.

It wasn’t until an hour before the party and still no response from Leehan that you were forced to accept you’d be going to this party yourself. A billion questions arose in your mind. Was something wrong, explaining why he had been M.I.A after making plans with you? Had he forgotten about the party entireley? 

Did he just…no longer want to go with you anymore?

As you stood up to enter your approaching Uber, you try to remind yourself that the party was being thrown at Leehan’s apartment – there was no way that he was oblivious to what today was. If he hadn’t responded to your text, it didn’t necessarily have to be for malicious reasons. Maybe he just genuinely forgot, or was one of the many people who went offline during midterm season.

Either way, you were beginning to think that you were worrying too much for no reason. After all, it isn’t the end of the world that you aren’t arriving together in matching costumes.

Or, maybe it’s the couple of shots you took while getting ready finally kicking in and causing your rationality to dissipate.

Arriving at Jaehyun’s apartment, you already knew that knocking on the door would be futile; without entering, you could hear the loud sounds of bass burning through a speaker that you could guess would make any outside noise intelligible. Instead, you took your chances at twisting the doorknob, and sure enough, it was unlocked. It seemed dangerous to you, but you walked in anyway to find a cacophony of purple, green, and orange strobe lights, illuminating the sizeable crowd of people filling the space. 

Decorations of cobwebs and skulls adored almost every surface, and as you walked further inside, you noticed the array of drink bowls spread out against a long table. 

You observe impressively that Jaehyun went as far as hiring a DJ, a guy dressed in a vampire costume who jerks his upper body back and forth to the rhythm of the music. 

It’s almost like a scene in a coming-of-age-film come to life, mountains of young adult bodies bouncing in a hypnotic fervor while drinks in red solo cups are sloshed up and down in the process.

Making your way through the crowd, you spot several of your newfound friends, plus others Jaehyun introduced you to at the lunar eclipse. You wave particularly to Riwoo, Giselle, and Sungho – dressed as an elf, cat, and fireman respectively – but really , who you’re looking for is Leehan. 

In the first five minutes or so of your search, you have no luck in finding him. You do, however, run into Jaehyun, whose sleeveless jean vest with no shirt underneath immediately gives away his costume as Ken from the Barbie movie. You giggle at the realization, taken aback even more when Jaehyun drapes an arm clumsily over your shoulder, bringing you in closer.

“I’m so glad you could make it, Y/N!” he shouts, competing with the loud music, and just barely – you almost want to drag him somewhere quieter, away from the DJ booth, but the longer you look at Jaehyun, taking in his wobbly, red-faced disposition, you realize he must be drunk. Trying to force him into any extended movement in his current condition would be futile.

“Thanks. Hey, have you seen Leehan?” you ask, skipping any pleasantries. You want to get an answer from his as quickly as possible before he becomes incoherent.

To your dismay, he shakes his head no. “He’s not coming. Told me he had a study date he was going to.”

You hope the absence of light outside from the shitty strobes obscures the expression of disappointment that is surely on your face right now, or even better that Jaehyun is too drunk to remember you asking this at all tomorrow morning. 

“You’re not still interested in him, are you?” asks Jaehyun, the smallest glimmer of rationality breaking through his drunken fervor as he seems to be sincere in asking. You force a smile, wanting to get away from him as quickly as possible before he’s able to notice the difference.

“No, of course not,” you dismiss with a small laugh. You give Jaehyun a friendly pat on the arm before identifying where the drinks are so you can head there next. “Thanks for having me.”

Beelining for the punch table, you fill a red solo cup with a mixture of liquids from all three bowls and throw it down without investigating what you’ve just ingested. To your dismay, rather than dulling your emotions, the alcohol brings out your festering resentment. Towards Leehan, towards this entire situation.

Truthfully, with your own midterms looming and a mountain of late assignments you’ve allowed to pile up over the last few months as you prirotized sex with Leehan, it was against your every best interest to show up tonight. 

You had checked your assignment-board this morning to discover that two essays worth 40% of your grade were due at 11:59 tonight. 

A class you were already failing with a 60 was requiring you to submit revisions for a paper tonight, too.

And yet, you made the decision to come out tonight – promising yourself you’d make it home at a decent enough hour so that you could at least submit something – because of Leehan. 

You were encouraged to wake up this morning and the morning before this morning because of your excitement at the notion of coming to this party with him by your side, wearing matching costumes and sharing drinks and hopefully spit by the end of the night, too.

If you were being completely honest, all of your days were beginning to feel like that — like the only thing you had to continuously look forward to was seeing or experiencing Leehan in some way shape or form.

Experiencing his laugh and his weird habit of bringing up the most random topics at the drop of a dime. Seeing his dimples pop out when he smiles at you and feeling like it’s the cutest thing in the world.

It’s becoming clear to you now that his absence has just as big — no, a bigger emotional impact that his presence does.

You’re angry because you know you didn’t create this excitement out of nowhere: he told you he wanted you to come to this party. You went solely because he said he was going to. If he didn’t want to come tonight, if he had plans, he could have warned you.

You’re angry at yourself for believing him. 

Worst of all, you’re angry because he’s on a date and it confirms all of your biggest insecurities about you not being enough for him.

And it’s at this point that you acknowledge how woefully unequipped you were to say yes to the proposition he gave you the night of the lunar eclipse. Because if it means having to experience the profoundly soul-crushing reality of his disinterest in anything having to do with you other than quick, indulgent sex, you’d rather die a million times. 

You feel your phone buzzing and reach into your bag to grab it unfeelingly. It’s a notification from Leehan. And as if you needed one more reason to feel like shit tonight, the nofication reads, Leehan questioned your message: hey i’m at the halloween store picking out costumes, what were you thinking?

You’re so tired of trying to analyze Leehan’s every action and gesture in an effort to convince yourself that maybe there’s some large reasoning behind his indifference. Instead of searching for any additional explanation behind in the question mark, you simply decide that he’s an asshole who had no intention of going out with you tonight.

And it’s with that steely acknowledgement that suddenly, you feel like you’re about to throw up all of the liquor you’ve just consumed. Taking a deep breath to stop yourself from spilling your guts right then and there, you decide it’s time to go home.

In your haste to leave the party, you don’t bother to try and yell excuse me to the 20 or so people blocking your way to the exit. You simply squeeze past who you can and push past who you can’t, not even caring to look back at those you shoulder check until you’re turned around by a pull against your forearm.

Face-to-chest with a figure you don’t immediately recognize, you body seizes up in fear, a condition that’s only slightly alleviated when you recognize the person’s voice as they exclaim in a deep voice, “ Whoa, whoa whoa . Hey, Y/N.” 

It’s in slight annoyance that you look up to meet Leehan’s gaze, finding him staring down at you softly. It appears that he’s just walked into the party. In a space  full of people dressed as mythical creatures, he looks out of place in his leather jacket and jeans, but also oh so attractive. His hair gathers in front of his face messily, the dark brown locks in a rare state of curliness. He doesn’t have to wear plastic horns to look devilish. 

“Are you okay?” you hear him ask loudly over the sound of the music, his hand now resting on the apex of your arm. Feeling both defiant and embarrassed to tell him the true answer to his question – that no , you’re not okay because you foolishly thought you could count on him to be there for you when he said he would – you don’t answer. 

And in a move that only contributes to the growing feeling that all Leehan truly cares about when it comes to you is sex, he doesn’t even allow you the time to answer, even if you wanted to. “You look pretty, angel ,” he says only seconds after his last remark, using both of his hands to smoothe down pieces of your hair messed up by your headband. 

A compliment that would usually cause sparks to fly throughout your stomach now only annoys you, especially as you catch a whiff of fruity, feminine perfume on his body. 

“You smell like someone else,” you tell him plainly, too drunk to hide what it is you’re thinking. And you can see that the remark and the resentful tone in which you say it takes him aback, even as he chuckles in an attempt to remain composed. 

“Because I was driving for Uber, tonight, pretty,” he says, and before you have a chance to question his excuse, he continues by asking, “How much have you had to drink?”

“Why does that matter?” you retort with a scoff, convinced he’s about to try and spin this on you by suggesting your valid anger is a result of your drinking. 

But then he puts on that signature smirk of his, those wretched dimples of his coming out as he leans down into your ear to say, “Because when I ask If I can take you to my room in about five minutes, I want to make sure I’m not taking advantage of you.”

Yout hate that those words and the implication of sex have you immediately aroused and pliant, even as you grapple with the feeling of being just a physical object to him. 

Because as much as you dislike him right now for what he’s put you through emotionally, his renewed attention feels like the perfect solvent to your wounds.

“You wouldn’t be,” you reply softly, your voice coming out small and weak as you maintain unbroken eye contact with him.

“Yeah?” he replies almost mockingly, bringing a hand up to stroke your cheek. “Why do I get the feeling that you want me to take advantage of you?”

It feels like your mind and heart are on two different accords as your face remains passive and unaffected yet what comes out of your mouth is, “Take me to your room and find out.”

It’s less a feeling of shame but more like acceptance that comes over you as you follow Leehan back into the throes of the party, his hand leading you through the crowd of people and towards his bedroom. 

Deep down, you know that the excuse he gave you earlier about his whereabouts was bullshit. Never once before has Leehan mentioned driving for Uber, and even if he did, it still wouldn’t justify his complete lack of regard for the plans you made and his lack of regard for you , refusing to notify you in advance that he wouldn’t be available.

But when faced with the proposition of sex, it seems foolish to deny it so that you can… what ? Continue to stew in feelings that will just leave you feeling empty, hurt, and worthless? Question him about being on a date when you know you have no right to?

Having sex will at least guarantee you a few moments of mind-numbing bliss, even if only a temporary high. Better that than have to face the reality of your own complicated nest of delusion.

As you’re let into Leehan’s room, hearing the sound of him closing the door shut behind you, you’re hit with the sudden realization that in the three months or so you’ve known him, you’ve never been in here before. 

His room has all the markers of a college boy’s sense of taste – dark colored furniture and bedsheets, posters scattered on the wall with no real order, random piles of mess occupying corners of the room. 

In a space that is otherwise unremarkable, your attention is piqued by a square, rectangular tank on top of his dresser.

“You have fish ,” you remark in a tone that is both matter-a-fact and questioning, something about your drunken state making you more curious than ever about the tank and it’s inhabitants. 

Throwing his jacket onto a random chair, Leehan comes up next to you and lets out a chuckle as he takes in your awe-stricken expression. “For some reason, I forgot you haven’t been in here before,” he observes, and when he watches you just continue to stand still, eyes transfixed on the fish but still remaining a few feet away from the tank, he gestures for you to follow him to it. “C’mon. Sit.”

You can’t help the way that your limbs move eagerly and excitedly towards the tank, where Leehan pulls up two extra chairs for you both to sit and view it together. 

Fish of all different sizes and shapes swim around in vibrant blurs of pink, orange and beige. You watch it all in awe, not sure if it’s because you’re tipsy or simply curious, and as Leehan explains what each type of fish is called, you hang onto every word.

“...this one is called a corydoras catfish. The rest of them are shrimp,” he explains, pressing his finger up against the tank as he points out each fish and the attributes that differentiate them from one another. 

In one corner of the tank, a group of fish swim frantically around each other, as if fighting.

“Usually they come right up against the tank when I sit in front of them like this. I think they’re mad because I haven’t given them any fish food.”

“Don’t you need to feed them?” you ask in genuine concern, turning to look at Leehan who only smirks.

“Are you trying to imply that I’m a negligent father, Y/N?” he retorts dramatically, his body tensing in mock offense before he relaxes and explains, “Don’t worry. They’re supposed to eat the algae on the rock. For some reason, they’re just being hesitant.”

“Maybe the algae isn’t what they want,” you chime in with a reasoning tilt to your quiet, contemplative voice.

“Just because the fish food is what they want doesn’t mean I should give it to them,” Leehan retorts simply, and maybe it’s the drunk, cynical part of you that thinks he’s making reference to your relationship. That you’re the fish who just can’t help but want something it can’t have, and he’s the sensible overseer that remains in control of what you will receive. 

But if Leehan is making some sort of larger, metaphorical reference to your relationship, he surely moves on from it quickly, becoming wistful and contemplative as he says, “I’ve been raising fishes all my life. Sometimes when I’m stressed I’ll just sit in front of the tank and talk to them.”

He presses his hand flat against the tank, his lips twitching into a prideful, paternal smile. “Because I know that unlike humans, they’ll never judge me.”

You find that your eyes never stray from the side of Leehan’s face as he talks, feeling almost like you’re a purveyor to this private, intimate moment he’s having. It feels like a privilege to be able to observe Leehan in moments like this where you’re given a genuine glimpse into his inner personhood.

But you’re pushed out just as quickly as you’re let in, watching as he promptly gets up from his seat by the tank and makes his way over to the bed. You turn your body in your chair to face him, and find that he’s now staring at you lustfully, gesturing for you to join him.

And as dismaying as it is to see him abandon the brief moment of emotional vulnerability just as quickly as it began, you stand up anyway, making your way to him.

Your movements toward him are slow, shy almost, and you can tell it pleases Leehan as you stand between his legs and are brought forward by his hands pushing at your lower back. He looks up at you, communicating wordlessly with just his sensual gaze how much he wants you. Your lingering anger from before stops you from making the first move, but even so, you don’t resist when he leans in to press a soft, steady kiss against your lips. Finding something almost apologetic about the innocent gesture, you put aside all of your inhibitions and decide to deepen the kiss, leaning your body fully into his and relishing in the groans he makes against your mouth. 

Passion quickly bleeds into the both of your movements until you’re kissing in a crazed, frantic manner. His hands that previously only looped your hips now wander across the expanse of your back, and with one forceful tug, your zipper comes down your dress. You’ve only just allowed the fabric to slide down your shoulders before he’s pulling the dress down himself, exposing your nipples to the cold air before covering them with his hot mouth. Tongue swirling around your hardened nubs, you nuzzle a hand in his hair and throw your head back in contentment. 

It’s with a wet pop that he pulls off of you, leaning upward to lock your lips once more. But because you're both incredibly and overwhelming horny, the kiss lasts for barely a few seconds before he’s pulling away to voice his plans for your body. 

“Want you to sit on my face,” he mumbles, voice gruff and deep and dripping with desire. “Wanna put that pretty pussy of yours in my mouth.”

Smirking in reply, you rest your head against his, eyes closed as you weather the currents of several shocks of arousal that travel up your body and make your legs feel like jelly. “I want that, too,” you confess, your voice sounding wispy as your body loses the strength to be assertive. “Also kinda want your dick in my mouth.”

His eyes light up at this, and with a hand on your chin that brings your face level with his, he says, “How about this: You hop on my face, and I’ll let you suck my cock. Sound good?”

Something about Leehan’s enduring leadership has the effect of making you feel intimidated, so much so that all you manage is a shy nod in response to his words, which he luckily accepts without any further prompting. You’re better at speaking with your actions, anyway, knowing that there’s a wordless understanding in the way that you kiss him hard and passionately while your hands push him onto his back.  

It’s with greedy, fast-moving hands that you strip him of his clothes, desperate for the instant bliss that is his mouth against your clit, the instant satisfaction that is his cum shooting down your throat. Once you have him fully naked, the fuzzy halo headband you’ve long forgotten about the only shared item of clothing between the two of you, you begin to adjust so that you may assume the required position. 

But your movements are suddenly halted when Leehan sits up suddenly, muttering the word “Wait,” as he maneuvers the both of your bodies so that you now lay on the complete opposite side of the bed. 

“That’s better,” he mumbles contentedly.

“What?”

“Just don’t want the fish to see what I’m about to do to you,” he replies, an answer so baffling that all you can do is laugh in reply. Your reaction barely phases him as he moves to drag your body onto his, and just like that, his kookiness is forgotten and your focus becomes tethered to the feeling of his breath against your awaiting pussy. 

He blows a few teasing, cool breaths against your dripping core, and before he has the chance to make you succumb to the pleasure of his mouth, you reach out to begin your own enjoyment of his heavy, hard cock. 

His member is veiny and substantial in your hands, reddened tip dripping with beads of precum that you lick away without thought of how it will impact Leehan. You feel his body seize with a jolt of pleasure from the direct contact with his most sensitive body part. 

And as if trying to get payback, he begins his assault on your pussy by sucking your clit into his warm, wet mouth.

From there, it becomes a competition of wills, a battle to see who can be least distracted by the pleasure they’re receiving in order to make the other fold, or at the very least, reach their climax. 

It’s a war you feel yourself pitifully losing as your drunken fervor somehow makes every casually overwhelming sensation feel 10x more heightened. You feel yourself inching closer and closer to release with each blissful flick of his tongue against your clit. 

Still, not forgetting about Leehan and his pleasure, you fight through the mental haze of your own gratification and concentrate on making slow, purposeful pumps of his cock within the ring of your hand. 

Sucking Leehan off is an activity you’ve gotten more than enough experience in to know what it takes to make him come. You gather all of the moisture in your mouth and wet his shaft with your spit. You press teasing, chaste kisses on his sensitive tip. You swirl your tongue in circles and continue stroking him with your hand. 

And then, when you can feel his thighs tensing as he grows tired of your teasing, you offer him relief in the form of taking him fully in your warm mouth.

Leehan’s self control is impeccable, even as you’re bobbing your head up and down his cock. He drags his tongue through your folds and finds himself at your hole, licking up the arousal there and fucking you open with his tongue. The only sign he shows of his own impending release are in the groans that he lets out against your mound. You can feel something overwhelming begining to build in your stomach, and though your body tries to squirm away from it, he holds you against his face.

You pitifully moan with his cock fully lodged in your mouth, and with a few final thrusts of his tongue, the knot in your stomach comes undone. As your orgasm overwhelms you, it’s difficult to continue moving your head. 

But Leehan’s too close to let his climax slip away from him, so it’s in desperation that he begins bucking his hips into your mouth at the same time he’s licking you through your orgasm. You just relax your jaw and let out restrained whimpers as Leehan fucks your mouth, not stopping until he finishes with a groan.

“My god, Y/N,” Leehan mutters breathily, turning you both on your sides, unraveling his limbs from yours until you’re no longer skin to skin. “We should do that position more often.”

You nod lazily in agreement, and with the little strength left in your limbs, you sit up to meet Leehan in the middle of the bed for a wet kiss. 

The position is slightly awkward, the two of you laying in opposite directions, twisting your bodies unnaturally, but kissing each other is a habit so addictive that even as you’re pulling away, he pulls at your hair to bring you back in for just a few seconds longer.

It’s comforting to fall back down onto the bed and feel Leehan’s fingers gently caressing the skin of your ankle. In your sleepy, post-orgasm haze, you’re filled with a sudden surge of contement in regards to your decision to come here tonight. 

You feel the fabric of a blanket kissing the sides of your body, and when you look over to find Leehan getting comfy in bed, it’s with satisfaction that you begin to do the same.

But then, the blanket you were just about to pull onto your body is snatched off of your skin, and when you look over at Leehan, you see him tucking himself in with a sleepy, content smile on his face. It’s just as you’re sitting up that he flutters his eyes closed, and with a sleepy tilt to his voice he says, “Hey, if you see Jaehyun on your way out, can you ask him to call me? I wanna know what time he plans on ending this.”

There’s a second after those words hit your ears where you’re not sure if you misheard him, slow to move from where you are in his bed. But as the implications of the statement hit you horrifically and all at once, it’s with a heavy feeling of shame weighing down your body that you reply, “Sure,” going to gather your discarded things from the floor.

The humiliating act of putting on your clothes after being dismissed so casually is almost instantaneously sobering. You catch a view of yourself in the display of your phone and notice that your plastic halo headband has been bent 90 degrees, likely from how rough you were. Your hair is strewn in every direction. Your mascara is smeared and ruined, running down your cheeks in squiggly, broken lines. 

You’re a mess. He made you a mess for the sake of his pleasure. And instead of cleaning you up, Leehan has essentially just kicked you out onto the street.

Only Leehan could cause such a dramatic shift between feeling like you were safe and desired to feeling like you’re just a worthless speck of nothing attached to the bottom of his shoe.

It’s just as you’re about to open the door to leave that you hear him call your name, and with your back turned to him, a hopeful part of you thinks that maybe, just maybe, he’ll say he changed his mind and wants you to stay.

But instead, as if to turn the knife in more, when you turn around, you find him staring boredly at his phone. 

Instead of regret on his face, you see neutrality. 

And instead of asking you to stay, he just says, “Thanks so much by the way. For the sex and the favor.”

It’s with a forced, robotic sense of calmness that you’re replying. “No problem, Leehan.”

And then you leave his room, never feeling so profoundly insignificant than you do in this moment.

There’s nothing quite worse than waking up with a terrible hangover, a panging feeling of emotional emptiness, and then having to send a string of desperate emails to your professors asking for deadline extensions. But that’s exactly what you do in the aftermath of the Halloween party, and by the grace of all things holy, you’re granted an extra few days to get your assignments in.

So grateful for the chance to resuscitate your failing GPA, you focus your efforts on finishing your assignments and almost forget about the cause of such misfortune, until you’re reminded when your phone suddenly buzzes with a text.

>leehan: what are you doing?

Messages of this sort usually have the effect of leaving you excited and giddy in anticipation of Leehan’s inevitable arrival to your doorstep. But now, all you feel is annoyance as you read the text and plague yourself over what to say. 

You type and delete several versions of a response that ultimately boils down to i’m too busy trying not to fail all of my classes which i wouldn’t be failing if it weren’t for all of the time i spend either thinking about you or fucking you , but in the end, you resolutely decide not to respond at all. 

In fact, in a move surely colored by the resentment you’ve allowed to grow for far too long now, you turn on read receipts so he knows you chose to disregard him on purpose.

You then continue typing away at one of the three essays that are past due, hoping you can forget about Leehan and return to the focus you had before receiving the message and being reminded of the past week’s events. You’re pleased when you look up after a few moments to see that an hour has passed and your attention hasn’t lingered. 

Just as you open a new tab to begin the reading for your second essay, the indistinguishable sound of a knock at your door stirs your attention otherwise.

You look around your shared dorm space. Your roommate went home for break already and hasn’t been here for the past few days. Assuming she communicated that to her friends, you know whoever’s on the other side of the door shouldn’t be for her. 

It could be an RA, though you couldn’t imagine why. 

Deciding to confront your curiosity head on, you get up to open the door and feel your eyes widen when it’s Leehan leaning against the doorframe.

Dressed comfortably in a hoodie and cargo pants, he looks up to greet you, smirking at the sight of your looming silhouette. “Hello,” he says casually, as if his sudden appearance was known to you before now.

There’s a strange mixture of excitement and dread that swirls inside of you the moment you see him. Because on one hand, just a look from him is something that gives you uncontrollable butterflies. You truly do like being around Leehan. But you feel like you have no control over the fact that you will let him in, even though you have every reason not to. 

He’ll fuck you, give you some of the best pleasure of your life, and will leave right afterwards, making you feel shitty. 

You’ll exerience the greatest high followed by the greatest low. 

And already in anticipation of how terrible you’ll feel in the aftermath of this inevitable scenario, it’s as if you’re body is already making space for the knife that will surely tear through your heart when this ends.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, though you already have a strong feeling what the answer will be. 

He’ll play coy, changing the subject by asking another question in response to your question.

“Aren’t you gonna let me in?” he says next, even though you both know the true reason why he’s come.

And because you like to feel like you have even the smallest semblance of control over the situation, you don’t give in to him easily, making a face of mock contemplation before replying, “Not if you don’t answer the question first.”

“Did you know that peppermint dwarf angelfish require a very specific type of fish food?” he asks, and because you’re so used to these divertive, weird diatribes he’s always so inclined to go on, all you can do is try and follow along. “I had to come all the way up here to find the only shop in Korea that sells it. And while I was already up here, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to stop by your dorm and say hi.”

You tilt your head as you stare at him, considering bitterly whether he could be telling the truth or not. 

But of course, his serious expression quickly melts into a smirk as he explains himself. “I’m kidding, Y/N. Not about the fishes, but about why I’m here. I wanted to see you, so I came.”

There’s something that’s really disgustingly cocky and self-centered about him just showing up to your door without warning with the unsaid though obvious expectation of sex. 

And yet, would he be wrong to have that expectation, when so many times before you’ve let him for that exact purpose?

He must be able to see the conflicting thoughts you’re having reflected on your expression, because from behind his back, he reveals a bouquet of flowers. You don’t know how you didn’t notice he was holding them until now, a colorful array of peonies and roses with, upon further inspection, a bunch of cardboard fishes placed among the petals. 

You can’t help but smile as you take them from him.

“I brought flowers?” he says, his voice titled in an expression of this being an olive branch, his way of expressing apology, though for what you don’t know. For showing up here unannounced? For putting you through so much obvious emotional turmoil? You’re not sure. 

There is something at least a little romantic about him boldly showing up at your doorstep instead of waiting for you to respond to his text. Though, through another, more cynical lens, you could also call it kind of creepy. Should you go with the latter interpretation, you know you would be sending the worse kind of message by letting him in anyway. You’d essentially be confirming to him that this relationship is on his terms, that he can show up to your place whenever he wants to get his dick wet, regardless of if you’re busy like you are now.

But isn’t that what this has always been between the two of you? Once again, you feel helpless in the face of the unbounding energy his presence causes. You can only watch the rest of the nights events play out like a bad movie you’ve seen far too many times, like you’re a witness from outside your own body and life.

You walk away from Leehan, leaving your door open so he knows he can come in. You place the flowers neatly on the table next to the entrance. It’s when you face the kitchenette of your dorm that you realize just how cluttered the place is; too stressed about your schoolwork, you haven’t put any thought into keeping it clean.

“Sorry,” you mutter sheepishly under your breath as you hear Leehan come in and close the door behind him. “It’s kind of a mess in here.”

He chuckles, as if to agree without having to say it plainly and hurt your feelings. You turn to face him and find that he’s already looking at you, a penetrating expression on his face as he asks, “Are you okay?”

You’ve never found that question as hard to answer as it is right now, especially when it’s his voice doing the questioning. 

Should you say that you’re on the verge of failing all of your classes, a circumstance you’ve never once had to worry about until he came into your life, causing a whirwhild of uncontainable emotions to take over your life? 

That you’ve been questioning everything when it comes to your own self-esteem and worthiness because it feels like you’re nothing if you’re not validated by the fleeting yet addicting warmth of his gaze and attention?

In the time that it takes you to think, you realize that Leehan has come closer, his body in front of you so that now you can’t escape from the kitchen counter against your back that blocks you in completely. Dazed by the proximity of him, you forget what you were asked, and are grateful when he doesn’t press you for an answer. It’s better for both of you if you don’t respond, anyway, because your honesty would surely kill the mood.

“You know what might make you feel better?” he asks, and you fight back a cynical giggle at the fact that he doesn’t even have to hear you say it to know that you need to be made better. “Fucking the shit out of me.”

As always, his moments of sudden candor simultaneously make you laugh and cringe because of how ill-fitting they are to the persona he occupies in your mind. You’ve always liked how awkward and strange Leehan is, which is why his fuckboy tendencies have always landed uneasily for you. 

It becomes too easy, then, to tease him by pretending you didn’t hear his outward expression of desire. “I don’t like the way you look at people,” you say, trying your hand at his usual divertive tactics. “It’s like you can see through them.”

You can always appreciate how even when you sidestep his advances, Leehan always plays into your banter, never pressuring you into action. “It’s because I can. BOO!” he exclaims, mouth open in an o shape as he childishly expresses fright. You muster a laugh at his playfulness.

After that, you’re both silent, and you know it’s because you’re both tired of playing games. You’re at the point now where it becomes obvious in both of your piercing gazes that you want to fuck, and now it’s just about who will make the move first. 

Suddenly conscious of Leehan’s long hair and how it hangs over the sides of his face, you reach your arms up to take pieces of it into your hands. There’s a rubber band on your wrist that you use to try and put it in a ponytail so you can see his features better, but before you can finish, he takes the opportunity of your increased closness to kiss you. 

The intensity of his kiss knocks the air out of your lungs, and you let go of his hair before you can finish tying it up. Because of your close proximity, it falls over the sides of your own face, obscuring the rest of the world from you so that it’s just him in your vision. 

His hands rest on the apex of your hips, and he pushes you slightly so that you’re completely backed up against the kitchen counter. You’d thought you’d feel more urgent, but your movements are leisurely as you bring your hands to his hoodie and begin to pull at the buttons holding it together. As the fabric begins to sag off his arms, he starts kissing at your neck, and you tilt your head to the side to accommodate him.

Once his shirt has fallen to the ground, you then work to release his cock from the confines of his pants, pushing at the thankfully loose waistband until it springs out against his naked stomach. You jerk him slowly and leisurely but it causes him to groan into your mouth just the same, and soon he’s moving to unbutton your own t-shirt until you’re both naked from the waist up.

“Leehan,” you whimper, as he cups your tits with both hands, “Bed.”

“Which one? I take it your roommate’s is empty?” he replies jokingly, and when you stare at him scathingly, he chuckles. “I’m kidding. Don’t look at me like that or I’ll come in my pants.”

You have no chance to scold Leehan for his teasing any further before he’s picking you up off the ground, your legs wrapping around his waist and hands around his neck as he walks habitually to your bedroom. He’s still on top of you even as you feel yourself being lowered onto your bed, mouth on yours in a sloppy kiss while his hands rush to get your pants off. He sits up to kick his own off, and now the two of you are left completely naked. 

This would usually be the point where the two of you would become like animals and rush to fuck as soon as possible. But while standing above your body, you watch as Leehan just stares at your still figure on the bed, taking in every detail with his penetrative, admiring eyes.

“I find you so beautiful,” he softly confesses, caressing the skin on your hip before looking up to meet your shy gaze. “Do you know that?”

It’s unclear whether he’s asking if you know that you’re beautiful, or if you know that he finds you beautiful. Either way, it’s in a moment of sincere honesty that you reply, “Only sometimes.”

Because there are days when you look in the mirror or put on your clothes on your way to campus and feel like your body is less of a home, but a prison that you’re forever doomed to occupy.

And with the emotional rollercoaster that is having sex with Leehan only for him to completely ignore you afterward, you’ve naturally found yourself wondering if the only alluring thing about you is that you’ll let him fuck you with no questions asked. That in a school full of beautiful girls with actual self-esteem, he’s settled for you so long as you continue to provide him with pussy.

Leehan furrows his eyebrows at your response, and with a corrective tone of voice replies, “ Always .” In movements that are slow and gentle, he leans down to lay a chaste kiss on your forehead. Another on the top of your cheek. Another on your ear. And then on every single part of your face that you’d normally consider insignificant. And then slowly down your rising and falling torso. 

“Everything about you. I couldn’t pick a favorite thing because I love every single part of you,” he confesses in a whisper-like tone against your skin. Finally reaching your pussy, he places one last gentle kiss at the top of your mound, something about the gesture making your pussy clench, espeically as he says, “You’re my favorite girl.”

To be affirmed by Leehan in this way is something that causes both your heart to swell and your body to pulse with arousal. But it’s also with a surge of sadness that you wish these words didn’t affect you so monumentally. 

A part of you wants him to stop making remarks of this sort to you during sex because you can never be sure that he truly means them.

But if that’s the case, then why do they feel and sound so genuine?

It’s with shaky resoluteness in your voice that you sit up to look at Leehan, replying, “Then show me.”

And, as if spurred on by the challenge, you can see Leehan’s expression changing even with half of his face obscured by your pussy. “How?” he asks, leaning in to lick teasingly against your clit. “Like this?” 

When he doesn’t wait for your answer and continues sucking and licking against your clit, you throw your head back as you enjoy the physical manifestations of Leehan’s attraction to you. 

If there is any time when you feel most desired and liked by him, it’s when he’s in between your legs, devouring you whole like a man starved. 

He uses his mouth not to tell you sweet-nothings, but to give you some of the best pleasure of your life. And it’s in gestures like these where you can wordlessly understand his devotion to you. 

It’s in your desperation to reach your peak that you begin to buck your hips into his mouth, wanting more of him, but he stops it with both hands that snake up your body and press down on your boobs. He tweaks at your nipples in a way that makes your back arch, but in a gesture that surprises you, he also just rests his hand over your chest, right where your heart is. You wonder if he can feel the fluctuations of your pulse, how it speeds up when his tongue does. Dreamily, the thought of him being so in sync with you that he can feel the intimate beatings of your inner organ sends you into a spiral of heightened satisfaction.

“Leehan, I’m gonna come.”

Even with your eyes closed, you can almost hear the smirk in his voice as he says, “My favorite four words in the world. Go ahead, baby. I’ve got you.”

Somehow, you think your body needed that permission, because it’s only moments later that your orgasm takes over your body. 

Your eyelids are covered with dancing spirals, your spine bends as you arch up into the air, and your body vibrates with a feeling so pleasurable it’s like an addiction, something you’d endure the greatest emotional lows to receive on a regular basis.

As you still, Leehan gets up to sit on his knees, looking over at your bedside dresser. “Still have the condoms where I left them?”

“Top drawer,” you confirm.

“Good girl,” he praises with a smile, reaching over you to rummage through the drawer and coming out of it with a silver packet between his fingers. 

It’s just as he’s finished putting it on and is about to slide in that you raise a hand to stop him, saying, “Leehan wait. I wanna ride you.”

His eyebrows raise at this, but he nonetheless maneuvers so that he’s in a criss-cross position, saying with a grin, “Woah. I feel lucky. You never get on top. Make me do all the work.”

“Shut up,” you grumble, making your way over to him and holding onto his shoulders as you hover over his hardened cock. But before you can take him, he roughly grabs your chin, squeezing your face in his hold in a way that forces your eyes on his.

“Make me,” he asserts, staring at you so intensely that it makes your stomach swoop. Reaching between your bodies, you grab hold of his pulsing erection and line it up with your hole, sinking down on him and loving the way it makes both of your mouths instantly open on impact.

It feels like you’re being split open in the most pleasurable way as you sit down fully on Leehan’s cock and allow the satisfcation of being filled by him to consume you. Driven by the pursuit of your own pleasure, you bounce, swivel, and thrust yourself against him. And when Leehan throws his head back, beautiful neck on display as he growls, “You’re so tight, Y/N,” you’re motivated to go even harder.

Sex with Leehan has never felt more intimate than it does now, when you’re above him and able to catch every small distortion in his gorgeous expression as he gets taken away by the gratification of this sex. Mantaining eye contact with him is nothing new to you now, but even so, you find yourself feeling like his eyes are admiring your soul more than they are your body or face as you bounce up and down for his viewing pleasure.

With your arms wrapped around his neck, you’re skin to skin, heart to heart, and in a way you almost feel like the closeness grants you the telepathic ability to know what he’s feeling and thinking. If there were to be a physical manifestation of the word yearning , it would be this exact moment between the two of you. 

Your expression melts into a smirk as you continue to ride him, and you feel almost motivated to giggle as the pleasure you’re experiencing makes you feel deliriously satisfied and happy. Leehan, with his hands leisurely rested at his sides, scans your face as if trying to memorize every detail, saying, “You make the prettiest expressions when my dick is inside of you. I truly can’t – nphhh – get enough.”

It’s as you begin to set a pace that has the tip of his cock kissing your g-spot with every bounce that you yearn for him to touch you, to light your skin on fire with the warmth of his touch. Anywhere. Everywhere. “Leehan, touch me .”

And it’s because he’s come to know your body so well, know exactly what makes you tick and what places to touch that have you crying in pleasure, he brings his hand to your clit and starts rubbing incoherent shapes into your swelling bud. Your body feels like it’s on fire, so much so that you begin to lose strength in your trembling thighs, something Leehan picks up on as he says almost desperately, “Faster, Y/N. Take it.”

You have to fight through the strain in your legs and the building tension in your stomach in order to begin bouncing on Leehan so hard it’s as if your life depends on it. And though it feels like it’s taking all of the energy in your body, you do it because you want to make him feel good. 

You do it because you want him to continue thinking of you as his favorite girl, even though that statement in itself implies the existence of other girls. 

Even though it feels like every morsel of your self-esteem is shattered in the process, you do it because his attention means so much to you that it blurs everything else.

“ Fuck , I’m gonna come,” you cry out as the pleasure becomes too much, as it begins to feels like everything else in your vision is obscured except for Leehan.

“Open your mouth,” you hear him say, and although your sex-crazed mind can barely comprehend why he’s asking you that, you comply anyways and feel your arousal growing stronger when, to your surpise, he tips your head back with a hand on your jaw and spits into your mouth.

The gesture is dirty and lewd and yet a moan rips out of you just the same, and the closer that your orgasm inches, the less you feel like you’re in control of your body or your reactions. Every thought and will in your brain has been diluted so that your only objective is to reach your peak.

“You like that, pretty?” he asks teasingly, his own orgasm approaching in a way that causes his voice to come out strained and tight. “Let me see what a dirty girl you are. Come all over my cock.”

Whimpers of his name leave your mouth in broken succession, the robustness of your orgasm milking you until your body quite literally collapses against his. And it’s after giving everything that your body could give, your legs trembling and your body screaming out in exhaustion, that Leehan takes over by thrusting wildly up into you. In search of his own climax, you can only whimper weakly into the skin of his neck and allow him to manhandle your limp body up and down his cock.

“I know, I know,” he coos apolgetically in your ear, fucking up into you hard and firmly. “I”m close. Gonna come inside your pretty little pussy.”

With a last thrust so impactful that it resonates throughout your entire body, Leehan releases into his condom, twisting his hips inside of you before pulling out with a groan. You collapse onto the bed together, and even though you can barely feel anything in the bottom half of your body, even though you have the foreboding inclination that it’ll be hard to walk later, you still can’t help the foolish smile that appears automatically on your face. There is no greater high than basking in your post-orgasm haze.

The stillness of the moments you share after sex is something you cling onto every time, wishing that the universe would mercifully turn those seconds of blissful and intimate silence between the two of you into minutes. But like the distant sound of thunder that lets you know that it’s going to rain, you feel the bed dip with the weight of Leehan sitting up, knowing that it’s only a matter of time before he sees himself out.

“You made a mess,” you hear him say as he picks at the fabric of your sheets where, sure enough, the white sheets have been soiled grey. The comment gives you slight butterflies, and as you manage a weak smile, about to reply with something snarky, he says, “Want me to stay behind? Do your laundry?”

If only for a few seconds, you allow yourself to consider the possibility that he’s being serious. That for the first time since you met him, he’s actually going to stay behind and take care of you instead of leaving you wet and limp and naked and sad. You hate how good those few seconds of belief feel. That just the idea of how doing something as simple as your laundry could make you feel so fulfilled and wanted.

At first you’re not sure what to think when he leans down to gently caress the hair on top of your head. But then, with an almost pitying expression on his face, he replies, “I’m just joking. If I hang around for too long, how would you miss me?”

There have been lots of times when Leehan has shown his lack of regard for you in his actions, but never in his words.

So to hear him plainly confirm to you that this is all a game to him, that it’s always been his intention to leave you strung out and wanting more, that he knows the emotional impact his absence causes, hits you like a slap in the face.

He doesn’t have to hide how little he cares about you because he knows that no matter how he treats you, you’ll always come back.

Haven’t you proven that exact notion to him time and time again?

“See you later, Y/N,” he says as he’s leaving your bedroom, a statement that he can make with confidence because you’ve shown him time and time again that he can walk all over you and still be guaranteed access to your body, mind and soul.

And as the reality of the situation that you’ve found yourself in hits you all at once, it’s at the sound of your front door closing that you begin to cry on impact.

Tears that feel endless begin to pour out onto your cheeks until you’re open-mouthed sobbing, and because you’ve spent so long holding these emotions back, they wreck your body until you have no energy left and devolve into soundless heaves.

You fall asleep like this, so emotionally wrecked and confused that you forgot about the three essays you were supposed to submit. 

You’re on the verge of tears as you enter your advisor’s office, sitting down across from the older woman whose passive expression tells you everything you need to know about the sort of news she’s about to deliver to you. But it’s with surprising clarity that you react to her saying, “Y/N, you’ve failed almost every single one of your classes this term.”

You stare blankly at her, processing the emotions that come over you at this news. It’s suprsing to say that the immediate feeling that comes over you is relief, but you owe it to the fact that you’ve been struggling this entire semester, plagued with anxiety as to whether or not you’d fail. And so, to have it finally confirmed after months of stressing about it feels similarly to being in the eye of a storm. 

After struggling for so long, you’re at a vantage point where it feels more comforting to be able to say that all that’s left is for you to fight your way out of the storm entirely. 

“Typically, when students have such large and sudden drops in performance like this, it’s because of some significant life event,” she explains, tilting her head as she looks at you pitifully. “Given that you’re a transfer student, I’m wondering if the transition from your old school to this one had an impact on your performance. Are you finding the academic rigor here harder?”

“No, maam,” you say, shaking your head. Academically, this school has been everything you had been hoping for and more since deciding to transfer. You couldn’t have expected to meet someone who so greatly turned your life around within a matter of months. 

Not sure how to explain the unique set of circumstances leading up to this moment, you vaguely answer, “I’ve just…transparently had a lot going on this semester in my personal life. So I haven’t been as great at prioritizing my classes.”

Humming in understanding, your advisor moves to face her computer. “Well, I’m afraid the next steps are to put you on academic probation for the rest of this semester. Are you aware of what that all entails?”

You shake your head no. Your advisor goes on to explain it to you. “You’ll need to maintain at least a 2.5 grade point average moving forward. Additionally, you’ll be given a tutor – another student who you’ll be mandated to meet with at least once a week to get your grades up.”

There a few telltale clicking sounds from her computer before she’s speaking up again to say, “It looks like the only available tutor for this semester is a student named Han Taesan. Do you know him?”

Admittedly only familiar with the few people who Jaehyun’s introduced you to, you shake your head no. You then have to try and push off the dread that builds inside of you at the thought of having to meet with a stranger once a week for the next two or so months until the semester ends.

You perk up as you watch your advisor’s eyebrows lift in surprise at something on her computer “It looks like he actually has office hours open right now until three. So, after this, I recommend you go see him and introduce yourself. It’s important that you get started right away so that you can begin correcting this situation. The last thing we’d want is for your financial aid to be affected, which – I should mention – will happen if you fail your classes again, Y/N.”

It’s at this warning that the reality of the situation finally hits you. 

As stupid as it now sounds, all of the times when you allowed Leehan to take up so much of your time in lieu of submitting your assignments were aided by a blind faith on your part that everything would work out in the end. 

But it’s in grave realization that you see how much you were gambling with your future by making such poor decisions. 

And with that feeling of shame and embarrassment weighing down on you so heavily, you leave your advisor's office a few short moments later, heading to the library to meet Taesan. 

As you’re leaving, you feel your phone buzzing in your pocket and unlock it to read a text that could not be more ill timed:

>leehan: what are you doing?

There couldn’t be any worse moment now than to receive such a message, after you’ve just been told that you could potentially lose your scholarship over your mindless decision making in regards to this man. And for perhaps the first time since you’ve met Leehan, you decide to let go of this manic-pixie-dream-girl image you’ve created for yourself, typing out a message that relays the completely honesty of your current situation.

>you: leehan, i failed my midterms. They’re putting me on academic probation and i might lose my scholarship. I don’t know that i’ll have much time for our “arrangement” anymore.

You stuff your phone back in your pocket right after sending it, caring little to know what Leehan will say in response. 

It’s in realization that you finally decide that making Leehan’s every thought, feeling and desire a priority in your life is a luxury you can no longer afford.

Arriving at the library a few minutes later, you wa;lw inside and observe how empty the place is. You suppose it makes sense given that most students have left for their fall break by now, not beholden to stay behind because of failing grades like you are. There’s a boy sitting by himself at one of the many tables in the library, a laptop and a few books surrounding him. You decide he’s the most likely to be the person you’re looking for and go up to approach him.

“Excuse me, are you Han Taesan?”

The boy, whose hair is uniquely marked by a streak of blonde in the back of it, looks up at you and nods.

“I’m not sure if you got the notification,” you say, pulling at your fingernails nervously. “But I’ve been assigned a tutor and you’re it. My advisor told me to meet with you today.”

Understanding finally dawning on the boy’s face, he puts down the screen of his laptop so he can fully pay attention to you and your presence. “Okay. What’s your name?”

“Y/N.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N,” he says, and even though everything from his voice and manners should have you inclined to feel less nervous, there’s something about his facial features that have you feeling intimidated. 

He’s quite good looking, but in a way that makes him seem unapproachable. 

“If you’ve been assigned to meet with me, that means you’re on academic probation, correct?”

Something about hearing those words, the assignment of your name next to the phrase academic probation , feels like a knife to the stomach. Still, the only thing you can do is nod grimly, and without intending it, you launch defensively into an explanation. “It’s not something I’m in the habit of, if that’s what you’re wondering. This is my first time, truly, and it’s just because I had a lot going on this semester.”

You expect Taesan to appear annoyed with you, just as you are with yourself when you hear those words leave your mouth. But you’re surprised when instead, he smiles. And when he does, it’s like the intimidating persona you built of him in your head immediately shatters and in place of it, you’re introduced to someone that seems really sweet.

“Listen, I know you’re probably feeling like a total failure right now. I know cause I’ve been there. But you don’t have to explain yourself to me, Y/N. The last thing I want to do is make you feel judged for something that so many students go through,” he explains, shrugging his shoulders to further communicate how little of an issue this is for him. 

“Most of the time, the people I tutor don’t even need me. They’re not dumb, they just were going through something that made them deprioritize their classes. We’ve all been there before. I’m just here to be an accountability partner and help you manage the stress.”

Fighting against all the parts of you that have been feeling shame in response to today’s development, you allow Taesan’s reassurance to wash over you like a cold drink on a swelteringly hot day. 

“You’re…really nice, Taesan,” you reply, thinking of no better way to express your gratitude. “I really needed to hear that.”

“No problem. If you’re free, we can go somewhere else and begin working on those late assignments. I don’t really like staying at the library because we’ll be forced to whisper like this the whole time.”

It’s only at his observation that you become conscious of the fact that you have been indeed whispering this entire time, and it is in fact, very burdensome. “Yeah, you’re totally right. Are you cool with coming to my dorm? I live on campus, in Commons.”

Grabbing his things, he gets up to follow you, and it’s at that moment that you realize just how tall Taesan is. “Sure. Let’s do it.”

Just as you’re about to leave with Taesan, you feel your phone buzzing in your pocket once more. And because you completely forgot about your earlier exchange with Leehan, you don’t even consider that the message could be from him until a picture that you’re immediately swiping out of lights up your phone screen.

>leehan: he misses you :((((( [img_6785]

The image in question is a dick pic, a full frontal image with Leehan’s smartly masked face just barely peeking out at the top as he angles his phone downward. 

You go from surprised to disgusted as you remember what the picture is in response to – a candid expression of anxiety about your academic probabtion – and suddenly, you couldn’t be more sure of the negative impact that Leehan has had on your life.

More sure that if you never heard from him after today, it would be the universe's greatest gift.

“Are you okay?” asks Taesan from beside you, and it’s with great gratitude that you observe his reaction is not that of someone who accidentally saw a dick pic on someone elses phone. Steeling yourself from the shock of the unexpected message, you hum an affirmative sounding noise in reply, and with that, you exit the library. 

You walk together to your dorm that’s only 5 minutes away from the library, and as you walk, you discuss a variety of things. How and why Taesan became a tutor, the circumstances which led to you transferring from your old school, and observations on how empty campus seems to be right now. Taesan, a music major, became a tutor once he learned he could get paid for what he already liked to do, which was teach people. The more you talk to him, the more assured you feel about this arraignment and your situation at large. 

More importantly, Taesan has the ability to do something you thought no man or object could be capable of – he takes your mind off of Leehan, and moreover the picture you just received from him.

Arriving at your front door, you can feel Taesan’s eyes on you as he says, “When I started my day today, I would’ve never guessed it would lead me to a girl’s dorm room.” You giggle at the genuinely funny joke, and now, you’re looking up at Taesan as if you’re fully seeing him for the first time. 

In just a short amount of time, you’re learned that Taesan is handsome, smart, nice, and funny. 

Perhaps something other than good grades could come of this time you’re about to spend together. 

In the time that you spend looking at Taesan, still smiling in the aftermath of his joke as you let him into your dorm room, you don’t notice the fact that Leehan is waiting for you down the hallway, armed once more with a bouquet of flowers. 

After last time, he figured surprise visits would be his thing now, especially since he knew your roommate wouldn’t be there to stop him. 

He wasn’t expecting, though, that there would be someone else who would act as a barrier between the two of you. 

Someone who causes unexplainable anger and resentment to blossom unusually in his chest. 

It’s in a blur of confusion – both at himself for reacting this way and at you for being with someone other than him – that Leehan turns around and rushes for the building’s exit before either of you can see him.

part 4 can be found HERE

taglist: @lailols @papichulomacy @0310s @softiwoon @gardenforwon @cherrytaesan @mryuyux @saintriots @lonelylandofan @cyber-tiny @keyywrld @isabellah29 @amarecerasus @cadidupped

comment or send an ask to be added to the taglist!

[writers-potion]

Writing Mad Characters

Okay this is a bit awkward because I had this question copypasted into Google Docs I use to draft my answers, and I realized I've lost the question in my inbox (which is being flooded).

So...I'm so sorry for whoever asked this question. Sorry for the delay because I was struggling with life in general for the past month and definitely SORRY for losing your question (－‸ლ)

Q: I'm writing a story where a major character is slowly spiraling into madness where small details kinda hint into the downfall right before the bigger details appear and then it the floodgates open. Is there anything I should avoid? Anything that I should keep in mind? Anything that I should research?

Things to Avoid

“Mad” or “Insane” is too general. Writing a cliched ‘crazy’ character who randomly talks to imaginary people and lashes out at strangers, you’ll offend a whole bunch of people who've gone through/have mental illnesses. Read up on existing mental conditions (schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, post-traumatic disorder and borderline personality disorder, etc.) to see what your character might have. 

Words like “mad” “crazy” or “insane” aren’t enough when you’re describing their status. As mentioned, these words hardly mean much when it comes to providing a clear description.

Contradicting yourself. Throwing random unhinged symptoms here and there wouldn’t work. In fact, you must have a clear arc on which they’re traveling and ensure that your “hints” are all getting at something.

Making the character overly destructive or harmful to others (when nothing really justifies it)

Justifying damaging behavior with this “madness”. Mad or not, your character will still have motives and goals that drive them forward. 

Making them look incompetent just the fact that they have a mental condition that makes them appear “mad” to others shouldn’t prevent them from achieving success. In fact, they may be even more cool-hearted and logical when it comes to their obsessions/goals. 

Research Tips

Narrow down the mental conditions your character experiences. Even if it’s a fictional condition, try basing it on existing ones and building on top of them. 

Take some time to study characters and/or real clinical cases that resemble the kind of madness you’re going for. 

- Anxiety Disorders: excessive fear and dread (ex. phobias) - Mood Disorders: persistent swings in mood or persistent feelings that interfere with daily life (ex. Depression, bipolar) - Psychotic Disorders: disordered thinking (ex. schizophrenia) - Eating Disorders: extreme emotional attitudes toward food (ex. Bulimia, anorexia) - Impulse Disorders: unable to resist urges (ex. Kleptomania, pyromania, gambling) - Personality Disorders: extreme inflexible personality traits (ex. Anti-social disorder, OCPD) - Past Traumatic Stress: persistent, frightening memories leading to emotional numbness 

Does your character have empathy?  

A sociopathic kind of madness is different. 

General Writing Tips for Spiraling into Madness

Establish a Baseline 

A lot of factors (stress, family history, innate personality, trauma, etc.) can contribute to madness, but it is not going to happen in a week. Define the existing mental and physical conditions your character has, and start from there. 

If you’re aiming for suicidal tendencies at the end, you want to start with symptoms of depression (a condition that may lead to suicide) - growing apathetic, erratic sleeping patterns, irritability, etc. 

This is also the stage where you want to plant some triggers that’ll go off later.

Trigger Events

A perfectly sound character suddenly spiraling down the madness route due to a single accident or traumatizing event isn’t convincing. 

A madness “snap” denies the reader the experience of watching the character’s journey into madness and how they feel about it. 

Internal Conflict (antagonist in himself) 

You must remember that madness is incurable. If someone could “cure” themselves by eating healthy, exercising and taking a few pills, it wouldn’t be much of a madness, would it? This means that the worst antagonist is going to be the character themselves, or the part of them that’s been taken away. 

Show how they are frustrated with themselves, scared of themselves, angry at their “alternative self”. The experience of not knowing yourself is a whole journey of its own.

Physical Manifestations/Quirks

If your character has a routine, show how they break down. 

They might develop habits that they otherwise would never allow themselves to have, perhaps as an effort to “keep this madness out”

Deteriorating Relationships

Depict how the character’s madness impacts his closed/loved ones. In the earlier stages, those close to him might be faster to notice and accept the signs of madness, even if the character denies it him/herself.

The first signs of madness might show when the character is trying to deal with difficult relationships - like losing patience and being unable to pick up subtle social clues.

Choosing Obsessions Over Primal Urges 

For these characters, obsession can take over a person’s normal urge to eat, sleep or even live. This can lead to, more or less, suicide. 

Example: In Black Swan, Nina’s obsession with becoming the perfect ballerina drive her to insanity, to the point where she doesn't mind dying on stage for the show.

[nofingjustaninchident]

⛧° will you be my prom date? - hoo boys °⛧

⛧° 。 ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆༺♱༻⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ 。°⛧

content: headcannons for my favorite boys of how they would ask you on a date!

warnings: cursing, non-estabilished relationship, slight sexual allusions (nothing too NSFW), friends with benefits, characters are all 18+,

a/n: i had this idea in the middle of portuguese class and i loved it so now i'm writing cause i'm independent MUAHAHAHA- jk jk i'm fine (questionable) annd i already started writing that fic i told u guys about... it'll be good, i hope

⛧° 。 ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆༺♱༻⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ 。°⛧

⛧Jason Grace

He does not know how to ask a girl out.

Like, he has no fucking clue on how to do that. You see, he's a perfectionist in absolutely everything in his life, and would be no less concerned with his girl. Who, by the way, is not his girl. 'Yet', he keeps telling himself that.

So, of course that he has to have the most perfect plan of all on how to ask you out to prom.

He'd do absolutely averything to make you feel safe and loved, so when you told him a few weeks before that the most expected experience of your school-life was THE prom, he took that as a subtle cue that you wanted him to invite you to go with him.

It indeed was, but you would never tell that to anyone.

Of course, the first person he thinks to go to is Piper, since she knows you and she's a daughter of Aphrodite. Especially because of that last one.

So of course she advises him on how she thinks it's the best way to invite you to prom.

One day, you had a evening date on top of the Zeus cabin - you both found a spot that you could throw some blankets and lay down together, watching the stars. It was almost on routine, but tonight he was very much anxious.

"Right there it's Andromeda. There, Orion and a little bit further down, right there, it's Pegasus." You say, pointing the constelations to him as you always did. But tonight, he wasn't staring at the night sky. He was staring at you.

How could you be so beautiful with those soft lips, those cute cheeks, that kissable nose, those always happy eyes... you were just too beautiful. And it was just amazingly cute how your eyes shined and your smile got even brighter when you were talking about something you liked.

So he decided to just fuck the whole plan up. Which was definetly something that the Normal Jason would ever do, but this was Madly-In-Love Jason. He'd do it, for you.

"You wanna go to prom with me? Like, as my date?" He'd ask you. You snapped your head towards him as if you hadn't heard it quite right.

"Um... what?" You asked, confused it he really meant what he just asked.

"Do. You. Want. To. Go. To. Prom. With. Me?" He asked pausedly, making sure you understood. You felt your cheeks burn bright red and a smile creep up your lips.

You leaned forwards and connected your lips in a soft and tender kiss, giving him the answer he needed. "Thought you'd never ask."

⛧° Percy Jackson

He only discovered that the prom was gonna happen one week before it did.

And that's when it clicks to him why you're being all weird and evasive, refusing his kisses, hugs and the 'i need you rn' texts.

Sure you were just friends with benefits, but still hurt you quite a lot that he didn't even bother to ask you to check if you were even going to the prom.

Little did you know he had no idea there was going to be a prom.

So when he texted you this morning with a ‘meet me at the aquarium in twenty.’ you considered ignoring him. But maybe he was finally going to apologize, you hoped.

The first thing you saw when you got to the aquarium that was the usual spot of your dates, he was there holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers. He wasn’t looking at you, instead he was looking at the mirror, fixing his… not messy hair?

That’s when you noticed. He was in a freaking tuxedo, which was a sight for sore eyes, his usually messy hair was all gelled up and he looked… even more handsome than usual.

When he looked at you, a smile immediately crept up his lips, and you were suddenly feeling weird in that old pair of jeans and a baby blue cropped. Still, he looked like he had never seen anything prettier than you.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He said and walked towards you, kissing your cheek softly. You smiled and blushed, forgetting for a moment that you were still mad at him. He handed you the flowers, which you took gratefully from his hands.

When you looked up at him again, he seemed… guilty about something. He wasn’t even looking at you in the eye when he sighed and pulled you close to him, hugging your body.

“I’m so sorry, y/n/n, i’m so, so sorry. I swear i didn’t know that the prom was coming, i just- i’m sorry for being such an airhead.” He said, giving multiple kisses to the top of your head.

“It’s ok. I’m not mad anymore.” You said, smiling at the boy in front of you. “How can i even be mad when you literally call me to an aquarium in which you are in a freaking tuxedo?” Your asked, kissing his lips softly.

“Really? You forgive me?” He asked, his eyes hopeful.

“Of course i do.” You said. Then, you raised one hand to his hair and muffled it, making all messy again. “And i prefer your hair in its normal rebel condition.”

He smiled as you walked towards the aquarium that you two had visited multiple times before. The place of your first kiss, the first holding hands, the first date…

But when you got near the fish tank, he asks you to stop and close your eyes, so that’s what you do.

Five minutes later, he comes back to your side and smiles, “You can open it now.”

And when you opened… well, all the fish in the tank were in a formation that said ‘Prom?’, and your smile instantly brightened. The boy next to you had the biggest smile ever seen on earth’s surface, and it was the cutest thing ever.

“Of course i’ll go to prom with you, dumbass.” You said, pulling him down by his collar and giving him a very passionate kiss.

⛧° Leo Valdez

He just let life tell him the right moment.

Literally, he couldn’t care less to whether you both were going to the prom or not. He just wanted to make you happy as always.

So when he discovered that you indeed wanted to go to prom, he made his life’s most important work until this day: a metal rose that, when you pressed a button to the side, opened to a message of ‘Do you wanna go to prom with me?’ that he knew you’d like.

He made it and triple checked it, just to be sure it’d work. It did work, but he couldn’t keep the thought that probably something was gonna be ruined with his bad luck.

So, one day, he was in bunker nine, covered in grease and soot, his hair messy and a little oiled up. He had just finished the rose-mission and was getting his stuff together before leaving to cabin nine so he could take a shower and change into clean clothes.

That’s until you ruined his plans and came in unexpectedly.

“Leo?” You asked, getting inside the hot bunker. Lots of projects were in the table, on the walls and even on the floor. Lots of weird materials that you didn’t quite know the name to were spread all over the place. It was actually cute.

“Mi amor, is it you?” He asked, leaving the shadows to a very smiley, pretty and happy you. He thanked the gods that he had taken the rose out of his work table before you got there.

“Yeah, it is. Whatcha doing?” You asked, sitting down in a pouf that you told him to put there, moths before.

“Just, uh… some weird Leo Valdez stuff, y’know.” He said, jokingly.

When he looked back at you, the tip of his nose caught fire. You were just… ethereal. Just sat there, looking around his work, hair pulled back in a messy braid, the small little pout that you always seemed to have in your lips…

He needed to do that right now.

Right now it’s the perfect moment.

Hell, every moment is the perfect moment. As long as it’s with you.

“Hey, princesa, i made something for you. I don’t know if you’ll like it, but, uh… yeah.” He said, getting closer and crouching down in front of you.

He took the metal rose out of his pocket and handed it to you. Your face immediately turned into a bright smile, grabbing the rose from his hand and pressing a kiss to his lips.

“Aw, honey, thank you! It’s so pretty!” You said, amazed by the beauty of the metal in front of you.

“Just, hm..” He said as he pressed a button in the back of the rose.

Thanks the gods, Tyche decided to be on his side today.

It occurred just right in the way he planned. The rose opened slowly, revealing a small little message. When you read it - with difficulty from the dyslexia -, your eyes watered.

You pulled him in for a hug, not caring it he was all greasy and sweaty and dirty. “Yes! Of course i will, babe!” She said, giving kisses all over his face.

“Te quiero, princesa.” He whispered and kissed you again.

⛧° Frank Zhang

He was nervous.

His hands were all sweaty and he wasn’t sure if you were going to accept the prom invite.

Fine, you were almost dating by now. But what if you stopped liking him? What if you found someone else? What if you hated him? What if-

Well, he was overthinking. A lot. And he just wished everything would go smoothly, and definitely not wrong. Nope. Anything is gonna go wrong here, folks.

You’re going to a little date dinner in the evening, you’ll can’t about your days and, in the end, he’ll ask you to be his prom date. Everything will be completely okay.

And at the beginning it really was. He got himself to calm down and was relatively fine, compared to earlier, and you just talked together at the beach, talking about your days.

The whole problem began when you mentioned the subject ‘prom’.

Oh, look at his hands getting all sweaty again.

He’s kind of scared, but he forces himself to ask you the question anyways.

“Hey, y/n, i was w-wondering if… if you-“ Before he got to finish, the boy got so nervous he transformed himself into a dog.

Why a dog, you ask? Because he remembered one day that you mentioned to him that dogs were your favorite animal on the world.

And he never forgets anything that you tell him about yourself.

But he got so, so embarrassed, thinking that he had ruined every chance that he had with you.

Little did he knew you just fell in love even more.

When he shifted back into his human form, you were still giggling, and he was super embarrassed about the situation.

“I’m sorry, i… i kinda shift when i got nervous..” He mumbled under his breath, looking at his hands.

You chuckled a little more and pulled him to you, giving him a kiss to the cheek. “It’s okay. Now, what were you gonna ask me?”

“Uh… do you… do you wanna go to prom with me?” He asked the question, and your smile just brightened. You kissed him in the lips now and felt him melting onto your lips.

“Of course, big guy.”

a/n: i kinda liked it???? like what. oh, thank you SO MUCH ALL OF YOU CAUSE I REACHED TWO HUNDRED AND FIFTY LIKES LIKE WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK??? LIKE, I MADE MY DIRST POST THREE DAYS AGO, TOPS!! Im just so proud and thankful, i love you all! my 24 besties 😭😭

[thegnomelord]

Alright since 28 is taken Ill do the next best thing 29! Graves and his shadows with M reader, who is a colonel.

I need the wholesome and maybe a bit of the spice ya know. Thank you for soing Shadow company content, i am so starved.

Once again good soup!

Here you go dude, I'm not the best when it comes to writing for a group of people so idk how this turned out :/. Play the game HERE

Prompt: Hug from behind

CW: NSFW, subbot Graves, domtop Mreader, Shadow company fluff, hug from behind, fluff, groping, handjob, cumming in pants.

Being a colonel in the Shadow company and Grave's right hand man, you had a lot of responsibilities. From running drills to stitching up wounds to writing reports and drafting contracts when your magpie of a commander sees a new person he wants to recruit; you expected to deal with a lot of shit, but never in your wildest dreams did you expect to become the Shadow Company's emotional support Colonel.

Colonel Care Bear — it was their nickname for you. You'd made the mistake of being annoyed at the name which, of course, made the little fuckers double down on it. Nothing you did made them stop, even Graves joining in their fun and calling you that instead of your name with a smug grin.

You're not even sure when or why it had started.

It wasn't like you were overly paternal, you just took care of your soldiers. In whatever ways they needed you; The first time you'd needed to give emotional support had been after Jenkins had lost his battle buddy. Jenkins was still relatively young compared to the other Shadows, a rising star that Graves had snatched up, but on the flight back to base he'd been no better than a scared kitten, desperately trying to hold in his sobs. You hadn't said a word when you had pulled him close to you, letting him cry his heart out into your shoulder.

None of the others said a word either, and you didn't bring it up after your plane had landed. You'd expected it to be a one off experience but oh — you were so wrong.

Like feral cats learning to trust a human, the Shadows started approaching you, carefully at first, standing just at the edge of your personal space nervous fingers toying with the hem of their shirts and eyes flickering between you and anything else, until you grew annoyed and pulled them close to you, letting them cry or talk or just sit with their head on your shoulder for as long as they needed; a lighthouse in a dark sea.

Then Williams, who'd had one too many bad missions, had come into your office without a word and plopped himself into your lap while you were busy doing paperwork.

You were surprised, but not too much, with how often you'd found yourself with a Shadow near you you figured something like this was bound to happen. Though you hadn't expected it to be this forward. "Bad day?" You asked.

Williams just grunted into your neck, slightly nodding his head.

You shifted to still be able to write with him in your lap. "Want me to talk?"

You felt his hair scratch your neck when he shook his head, a negative grunt leaving his throat.

"Got it." You said and went back to your work, a hand on William's hip to keep him stable.

Safe to say you weren't amused when Graves had walked in and cracked the biggest bloody smirk when he saw you like that. You were even less amused when he'd whipped out his phone and took a photo of it. And you were ready to piss in Grave's beer after that photo had circulated through the entire Shadow Company, leading to many more similar incidents of a Shadow crawling into your lap when you weren't busy.

It really wasn't their fault your embrace just felt so good and comfortable, your arms perfectly sized and muscled to put weight in your hugs, shoulders just broad enough to make them feel small and safe.

Graves knew this because when he'd needed to confiscate Smith's phone after he'd caught him taking pictures of your ass (not that he blamed him, you had a nice ass but they needed to have some professionalism) Graves had found their simp chat.

It took him days to finish reading all the messages. I mean there were hundreds of texts gushing just over you, calendrer times for when which Shadow could go bother you for attention, not to mention the countless pictures they'd taken of you, from mundane to more suggestive when you were in the communal showers (Graves would die before he admitted he'd needed to rub one out at some of the pictures).

Safe to say that when he gave Smith his phone back Graves was. . .curious. He'd never approached you for comfort like the Shadows did, mostly because he knew he couldn't keep his thoughts pure after just a few minutes in your presence, his throat going dry whenever he feels you pat his shoulder when you pass in the hall.

"Care Bear!" Graves calls when he finds you on your way to your room, using that name just so he can see the irritated twitch of your brow.

"Yes commander?" You ask in that same tone of voice you use when you know he's up to something.

"Oh come on, no need for that." Graves grins, "Ah just need you to do something for me," He says, because he wouldn't be your commander if he was straightforward. "Follow along." He motions with his hand like a dog as he passes you.

Like a dog you follow, so close you cast a partial shadow over him. He leads you to a more secluded hallway, stopping abruptly and hearing you stop too. But you're not close enough, so with an annoyed sigh he says "Come closer."

You raise an eyebrow but do as he says, taking a few short steps closer until your chest is almost touching his back. Without a word Graves suddenly grabs your arms and wraps them around his waist, leaning back on his heels until his back is flush with your chest and you're supporting his weight.

You stall for a few moments just trying to convince your head that yes, your commander is doing that. "Really?" You ask.

He tilts his head to meet your eyes, casually resting his head on your shoulder. "Something the matter Colonel Care bear?" He smirks, reminding you of a very content cat.

You give him a blank look before rolling your eyes, "Could have just said you wanted a hug." You huff and move your arms to really hug him, your hands resting comfortably on his hips, your arms caging him in, the heat of your body seeping into his, your chest rumbling as you mutter your annoyance at the damn nickname.

"What fun would that be?" He says, eyes closing.

And, Hell, Graves gets it now.

He could get addicted this. Your scent and cologne clogs his nose, the heat of your body chasing away the lingering chill of the base. You support his weight so easily it's like he's floating on a firm cloud, forgetting about ranks and war and everything for a few blissful seconds. His mind wanders; wonders what it would feel to have your strong arms pin him every day, what it'd be like to be pinned down, the current gentle pressure turned bruising and demanding, bending him in half and shit— he's hard.

And of course you notice, wouldn't be his right hand if you couldn't read him like a book. "I'm getting the impression," You note, your grip increasing just a bit to keep him still, your other hand skirting down. "That you wanted something more than just a hug." You growl and squeeze your hand, groping the bulge in his jeans.

"Shit—" Graves sucks in a breath, legs scrambling for purchase but you hold him still, his weight still on you. "—I wasn't thinking of nothing." He says quickly, the pressure of your hand on his clothed cock too good.

"Uh huh," You hum, keeping a careful eye on his facial expressions as you experimentally move your hand; Short slow brushes of your thumb against his cockhead earn you little whimpers, unable to hide them with his head still resting on your shoulder. Firm squeezes of his entire bulge has his skin turning a nice shade of pink, his ear hot beneath your tongue as you nibble on it. His thighs part as you bully your hand lower, the strong pressure of your fingers against his balls as your palm grinds into his cockhead making him moan, the stuttered attempts at explaining himself dying out as a visible damp spot grows in his jeans.

"Faster-" Graves growls, his hands grabbing purchase in your hair, yanking your head down into a rough kiss, "-mhh, faster, fuck, man-"

You smirk against his lips. "Ask me nicely." You say, purposely pulling your hand away from where he needs it the most, ignoring his disgruntled sounds. "You son of a bitch-" Graves snarls, breathing rapidly in an attempt to get his frazzled brain to work before swallowing his pride. "Please," He says it like the word hurts him.

"Please what commander?" You wonder, undoing his belt and slipping your hand into his jeans, "Please touch my cock? Please get me off? Please fuck me till I can't walk?" You throw suggestions, applying just enough pressure on his twitching cock to leave him dumbly nodding his head.

"Yes, yes, yes- oh fuck- shit yes-" Phill pants, eyes closing and weakly thrusting his hips into your hand with what leverage he has, seeking out the pleasure that comes with your calloused hand stroking his sensitive flesh. "Fuck- just, ahh-" He breathes in through clenched teeth, "-just please."

"Alright, alright," You hum, increasing your pace, the glide of skin on skin eased by the precum he's leaking, swallowing his little moans and rough grunts as you kiss him. You can tell he's nearing his end with how he begins twitching even more in your hold, hips pushing into your hand sporadically, fat tears prickling his eyes. "Come on then Commander, cum already."

He does almost as soon as you tell him to, his moan swallowed down by your lips as he cums in his pants, your thumb rubbing insistently on his tip to milk him of all he's got, strong arm keeping him close to you.

"You did good commander." You coo gently as you pull your hand out of his pants, and without waiting for a response you push your cum covered fingers into his open mouth. "Real good," You smirk when Phill immediately sucks on your fingers, his brain melted into mush and incapable of rousing his pride to feel ashamed of how he moans at the taste of his own spend. "Such a good boy," Your praise does something to him, has his cock making a valiant attempt to get hard all over again.

The air leaves his lungs when you suddenly push your hips against his ass, making him feel your own hard cock trapped in your pants. "I took care of you," You begin, pulling your fingers from his mouth. "Are you prepared to take care of me?"

[moonstruckme]

So, obviously you don't gotta do this request if you are not comfortable, and you can totally delete it, don't feel like you gotta, really.

I was wondering if, you could write some like angst-comfort-fluff type thing with poly!marauders? Where they have been dating reader for a hot minute now, but during (and long before they started dating) reader has been on-and-off cutting herself? And the boys don't know?

Like I said you do NOT have to write this, and just like any request do NOT feel like you EVER have to write a request.

Have an amazing day <3 <3

Hi lovely! I appreciate the disclaimers. I was a bit hesitant to do this because I feel like I'm not always sure where the line is between comforting/validating people who experience this and inadvertently glorifying self-harm, but I hope the general message of getting support and help comes through. Thanks for requesting and hope you're having a good week <33

cw: self-harm scars, mention of current self-harm

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.4k words

James doesn’t see so much as feel them, hands roving under your clothes as has become his favorite pastime when you’re both feeling lazy. A series of neat, raised lines starting at the skin of your hip. Curiosity moves his hand upward, following the rows up to your waist. It’s impossible to tell how many there are. They just feel like vague ridges to James’ touch. 

His heart takes on a too-familiar heaviness, and he strokes the lines absentmindedly as he thinks of what to say. 

In the end, he doesn’t have to. You’d been on the precipice of sleep, your form lax between James’ legs, but suddenly you’re startling, an almost imperceptible jolt and your hand covering his own. 

“What’re you doing?” you ask dazedly. 

You sound panicked, and James hurries to placate you. “Sorry, I should have asked before touching you there.” Your alarm attracts Remus’ attention, and he peers over the top of his book from where he sits on the opposite end of the couch. James isn’t sure what to do. He wonders if you’d want this to be a private conversation (based on the fact that you haven’t brought it up yourself, he doubts you want it to be a conversation at all), but he can’t just not mention it and have you think he doesn’t care. He does what he can to keep the wariness from his voice. “Do you want to talk about it, lovely?”

Remus lowers his book as you slide down James’ torso, shrinking yourself. “Talk about what?” he asks, concern already infiltrating his tone. 

James won’t speak for you. You’re quiet for a few long, heavy moments, and he can feel you growing tenser with each one. Finally, you say, quietly so that Sirius can’t hear from the kitchen, “It’s okay. I was going to tell you at some point.” 

“Tell us what?” Remus asks again. 

James sends him a look that begs for patience, bringing his hand to your shoulder to knead tenderly at the taut muscles around your neck. “Okay, thank you sweetheart. Would it be alright if I pulled your shirt up a little?” 

He knows he’s handling you in that extra-gentle way that sometimes frustrates you. You resent kid-gloves, and he can’t tell for certain if this situation is an exception or if you’re just too embarrassed to say anything. You only nod, and James pinches the hem of your top between his fingers, bringing it up to just below your ribs. 

The lines look thinner than they’d felt against his fingertips. Remus sets his book down, forgetting to save the page as he leans forward, palm moving up your leg as if to keep you in place while he looks. He fingers the waistband of your shorts, looking to you for permission before drawing it down until the lines stop where your hip bleeds into your upper thigh. 

“When—” He swallows, voice painfully quiet. “When were you going to tell us?” There’s a sound from the kitchen which signals Sirius has finished preparing his snack. 

Your eyes are almost frightened. James can tell there’s a myriad of placations vying to be the first to leave your tongue, but what makes it out is  “Please don’t be mad.”

“Ooh, what do we have?” Sirius hears and comes running at the first whiff of trouble, perching on the armrest and sidling up to Remus. “A secret tattoo or—” You turn your hip into James’ thigh, and he doesn’t try to stop you, but you’re too slow, and Sirius’ voice seems to run out of air. Usually mirthful gray eyes flit up to yours looking almost betrayed. “Baby.” The word sounds as if it’s been hooked from some wretched part of him and dragged forcibly out. “When did…how long has this been going on?” 

James can feel your ribs expanding and contracting faster as your breaths come quicker. You feel cornered. He puts his hand over the marks on your waist protectively, and you flinch. 

“Hey,” he shushes you. “You’re alright, darling. Nobody’s upset with you, okay?” He lets his eyes flit up to meet the other two boys' warningly. Okay? “We’re just a little worried.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, and your tone is so fraught James’ heart very nearly shatters. “You don’t need to worry about me.” 

“We don’t mind worrying, love.” Remus’ voice is still quiet, but the gentleness in it is more apparent now. “But whatever you’re comfortable sharing, we’ll take it. Has this been going on a long time?”

You nod. James begins stroking up and down your side. 

Remus’ lips pinch, but he doesn’t waver. “Is it still going on?”

Your shoulders stiffen and your breathing stops. James’ insides fill with concrete, but he forces himself to peer around the back of your head to see your face. You’re biting down on your lip, hard. 

“Even now?” Sirius sounds devastated. Remus reaches behind him, setting a pacifying hand on his knee. 

Silver lines your eyes, but you take a slow, shuddering breath, and your voice comes out calm. “I’ve almost got it under control,” you say. “I’ve slipped up a few times, but…but I’m working on it.” 

“Alright,” Remus replies, giving Sirius’ knee a squeeze and you a kind, if thin-lipped, smile. “Is there anything we can do?” 

You shake your head immediately, but Sirius shoots you a look. “Don’t,” he says, and his voice is so uncharacteristically stern that even James startles, hand faltering on your side. It’s quiet as Sirius can manage, though still strained with emotion. “Don’t try to shelter us by keeping it to yourself. There have to be things we can do.”

James recollects himself, wrapping both arms around your middle and drawing you closer until the back of your head rests against his collarbone rather than his stomach. “Maybe,” he suggests, “you could let us help by telling us when you think you might slip, and we could try to find ways to distract you. Does that sound alright, lovely?”

You turn your head to look at him, and James steals a selfish kiss to the skin just near your eye. The corner of your lips twitch, and he hits there too, the little peck aiding the spread of your smile.

“That might help,” you say, quiet, tentative. Your smile fades as you turn your gaze to the other two boys. Sirius’ eyes have gotten stuck again on the scars lining your side, but he looks up when you speak. “Are you…do they bother you?”

Remus’ eyebrows stitch together, but he lets Sirius answer. The raven-haired boy looks almost surprised. “The marks?” he asks you, and despite James’ sympathy for the shock of all this, he sort of wants to kill him. He couldn’t make it easy on you, could he? Your hand finds James’ where it rests against your side, fingers worming between his, and he gives them an encouraging squeeze. You nod. “Baby, of course not,” Sirius says, ardent, and James swears he can feel you relax against his chest. “It bothers us—it bothers me that you’ve been upset, and that you’ve been dealing with it by yourself for so long, but I couldn’t give less of a shit about the marks. I care about you, your pain, not how it—how it looks on your body.” 

“I agree,” Remus says, smiling a little as he pats Sirius’ knee like settle down. “Honey, so long as you’re doing what you can—and letting us do what we can—to help yourself feel better, the scars don’t matter.”

“Thanks.” Your voice is quiet, but more bashful now than ashamed, which James considers to be some improvement. “It’s just awkward to talk about, you know?”

“It’s not,” James tells you. “Or, it doesn’t have to be. Listen, we don’t have to talk about it like, every day, but you should be able to tell us when you’re feeling down, okay?” You rest your head against his shoulder, and it feels nice, but James gives you a playful little jostle to let you know his question wasn’t rhetorical. “Okay?” 

“Yeah, okay.” The words leave you in a sigh, and Sirius rolls his eyes amusedly while Remus watches you with a knowing look. You were on the brink of a nap before, and the weight of this conversation has thoroughly tuckered you out. 

“Good,” James says, mock stern as he tucks his chin into the juncture of your neck. Wordlessly, Remus pulls Sirius down from the armrest and into his lap, picking up his book again. Your breathing slows, and James’ thumb strokes at your side underneath your shirt, indiscriminate between smooth skin and scars.

[writerracha]

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ when you're spaced out — skz moments

↻ 1.5k (150-200 per member) :: established relationships :: mostly fluff. kissing, domesticity, mention of working out. a bit suggestive at times, but no smut.

↻ 18+ mdni :: not proof read, pls be kind :: masterlist

↻ it's my first time writing reactions like this, so I'm a little nervous, I hope some of you guys like it. 🥺!!

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

° . chan

“Love?” You blink rapidly, turning towards Chan. He’s standing next to you, leaning slightly against the kitchen counter. “Are you alright? You’ve been washing the same plate for two minutes.” You look down at your hands, realizing he’s right. A laugh escapes your lips as you shake your head. “Wow. I just zoned out.” Chan smiles although you can see the slight worry in his eyes. “You’ve been working too hard. You need more sleep. How about we accept we’re getting old and go to bed early tonight?” You laugh again as Chan starts to help you with the dishes, drying what you’ve already washed. “Actually, I love the idea. But why are you helping me? You already cooked dinner.” you pout. Chan kisses your cheek. “I just like spending time with you, whether it be going on adventures or just drying dishes.” You give him a smile. “And getting to bed early?” He chuckles, nodding. “That too. Anything, as long as I’m with you, my love.” 

° . minho

It is only when Minho waves his hand in front of your face that you notice you’ve stopped pedaling on the stationary bike. You remove your earphones, catching his amused smirk. “Oh, don’t laugh at me,” you pout slightly. Your boyfriend leans against the bike, looking handsome in his fitted black workout clothes. “What were you thinking about like this? I hope it was me.” You shake your head in exasperation, starting to pedal again slowly. “It’s just this song. Reminded me of that time at the beach...” Minho chuckles. “So you were thinking about me.” You laugh. “Yes, but not in that way. Just at how great it was to be there together, watching the sunset.” Minho’s smile softens, and he steps forward to give you a long kiss. “We should go back there next weekend. Just you and me. What do you say?” 

° . changbin

You’re at a small party with friends. Changbin comes back to you after getting drinks to find you standing in a corner on your own, your eyes fixed on the floor, a sad expression on your face. He frowns with worry, approaches you slowly. “Baby?” he asks. When you don’t answer, he softly puts a finger underneath your chin, lifting your face so that your eyes align with his. You blink, coming back to reality. Changbin smiles tenderly. “Where were you right now?” Realizing you were completely spaced out, you chuckle and take the drink he’s offering you. “I have no idea. I started thinking about the work I have to do tomorrow, and…” Changbin slides an arm around your waist and kisses you temple. “Don’t think about that too much tonight. Tomorrow is still far away. Stay with me, okay? And when you feel like your thoughts lead you away, just squeeze my hand and I’ll bring you back.” You look at him, feeling so grateful for him. “I love you,” you smile, and he kisses you in response, clinking his glass against yours. “I’ll always be there for you baby.”

° . hyunjin

“Angel.” Hyunjin gently takes your hand in his, bringing you back to reality. You blush slightly, embarrassed at spacing out like you are. However, your boyfriend only looks amused, perhaps even enamored by your startled expression. “Is the food bad?” He asks. You shake your head, putting down your chopsticks. “No, the opposite, actually. So good I had an out of body experience…” Hyunjin lets out a sincere laugh, his eyes sparkling in the process. He’s brought you to his favorite restaurant for your weekly date, and you know it means a lot to him because he’s friends with the owner. “That good, huh? I ought to bring you here more often.” You smile, taking a minute to look at him. He looks like a dream with his long hair and white button-up. “I’d go anywhere with you,” you smile. “Especially if there’s good food.” He giggles, gesturing you to keep eating. You take a bite from your plate, humming in pleasure. “There’s nothing I love more than seeing you happy like this, angel,” he whispers, tenderness spilling from his voice. 

° . jisung

You jump in surprise when the television suddenly turns off, stopping the anime you’ve been watching. You turn to your boyfriend, who is sitting next to you, your eyes wide in confusion. He’s frowning, looking at you with concern. “Why did you turn it off?” you ask him. Jisung laughs. “I’ve been talking to you for two minutes but you weren’t answering!” You close your eyes, shaking your head, feeling bad. “Ji, I’m so sorry…” He takes your hands, squeezing your fingers tightly. He feels warm and soft. “Are you ok, baby?” You inhale softly, shrugging. “Just spacing out. I can’t focus on anything…” He leans in to stroke your hair, placing it behind your ears. “My baby. It’s ok, we can just cuddle if you want?” You almost want to tear up at his sweetness, and you nod. “I’d like that.” He smiles, pulling you in towards him so you can sit closer, bringing your legs over his, your nose buried in his neck. His hoodie smells so much like him. “Does that feel better? Just close your eyes, baby, get some rest.” He keeps stroking your hair, his breathing steady, and you feel safe there. 

° . felix 

You’re staring at the wall ahead of you, completely lost in thought. You came in the bedroom for something, you just can’t remember what. Suddenly, you feel two arms slide around your waist. Felix pulls you close to him, your back to his chest, and he puts a gentle kiss on your shoulder. That snaps you out of your daydream, but you just smile and relax against his body. He hugs you tight, his cheek finding a place against your hair. He smells good, his fingers interlocked against your stomach, his body warm and familiar. “I was wondering if you got lost,” he says softly. You giggle. “I came to the bedroom and forgot why,” you explain. Felix laughs and the depth of the sound is like music to your ears. It’s your favorite sound in the world. “Blankets,” he reminds you. “For our game night.” You sigh, turning around to kiss the tip of his nose. “Lucky I got you.” His eyes are wide and full of love, and the comfort of his presence is itself a blanket. “Now hurry up. I can’t wait to beat you at that game,” he grins. You scoff, nudging him playfully. “You wish.” 

° . seungmin

You stare up at the ceiling, breathless, a thin layer of sweat covering your skin. You barely notice Seungmin drawing the sheets over your naked bodies, making sure you don’t get cold. He kisses your temple, pulls your still trembling body to him. “Look at you, all spaced out,” he chuckles tenderly. You hear him, but you’re coming down your high still, your body getting heavy with sleep. It takes long seconds before you finally smile, brushing your nose against his skin. His hair is a mess, his familiar smell strong and intoxicating. “I think you just made my brain malfunction,” you chuckle. Seungmin grins. “That was the point. You deserve peace of mind, my love.” Seungmin has just made love to you passionately. It had been a while because you have both been busy, but the both of you were getting cranky, and having sex released the pent-up pressure. You’re so in love with him - the way he makes you feel, the way he takes care of you. He kissed you so deep, so slow, making sure that every muscle in your body relaxed. Now you just couldn’t think anymore - you felt calm for the first time in weeks. “You can sleep now,” Seungmin breathes in your ear. “I’ll watch over you.” 

° . jeongin

When Jeongin squeezes your fingers a little tighter, you realize you’ve been zoning out and haven’t heard what he’s just told you. You look at him apologetically, but he’s already smiling. “Spacing out again?” It’s been happening to you a lot recently. Too much on your mind, not enough rest… Jeongin tugs at your hand, bringing you closer, sliding an arm around your waist. You’ve both dressed warmly for your walk around the park, gloves and hats on. “Yeah, sorry…” You sigh, rubbing your eyes. “It’s okay, babe. We can just walk, we don’t have to talk. But I’m right there if you need to, yeah?” You nod your head, smiling at him. Your boyfriend is one of the best people you know. You can tell him anything, you know that - he will never judge you, and he gives really good advice, too. “I know, Innie. I know. I love you.” His eyes don't leave you for a second. "I love you more than words can say." You let your head fall against his shoulder, and the both of you keep walking, interlocked, the breeze against your cheeks.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

taglist: @lix-ables – @iwannabangchan – @yeongyulix – @xcookiemonsteer – @imtoooyoungforthisshit – @bbujiikseu [ please write if you want to be added or removed or if i forgot to add you (it happens) !! ] 

[cowboybeepboop]

Please please please write something angsty with Hangman that ends with smut, it doesn't have to be too angsty but I really like how soft you write him

Pairing: Jake “Hangan” Seresin x fem! Reader 

Genre: Smut

Word count: 6.6k 

Summary: You’re a psychologist who is currently working with Maverick which means that Jake Seresin is back in your life. The two of you used to be friends but things changed between you during senior year. Seeing him again brings back memories, and feelings you thought you’d suppressed.

Warnings: not even slightly accurate to irl navy experience (I feel like that would be an assumption but nevertheless), mentions of bullying, Jake being a horrible person in the past, hand stuff, oral fem receiving. 

a/n: lowkey this was rlly fun to write, I'm not so great at angst so I hope this is good. Again, as always, I hope you enjoy and please send any requests you might have <3 I love to write requests so feel free to send anything! Also also, send me a message if you want to be tagged in future Glen Powell/Hangman fics.

You and Jake went to the same highschool and were great friends yet both late bloomers. You grew into yourself during your sophomore year of college whereas Jake did in Senior year of high school, when he got his big growth spurt and lost his braces. Something about him entirely humiliating you by standing you up on Prom night, something you were looking forward to, simply because of how much you liked him has you holding a grudge. 

So when you ran into him during your new position as a clinical psychologist for the Navy, your heart quite literally stopped. You thought that pretending you didn't see him would suffice, but, unfortunately the universe has a completely different plan. 

Your boss had introduced you to Maverick, they planned to have you check out his new team in order to make sure they are competent for the missions the government plans for them to complete. That's how you ended up in the gruff man's office every morning, despite his obvious disdain for your presence in their team. 

The evening sunlight beats down on you as you stand next to Maverick, watching the team go through their training drills. You notice him glance over at you, before focusing back on the team in front of you.

"How's that observing going for you?" He asks with a hint of sarcasm in his voice, never taking his eyes off the team performing push-ups.

“Honestly Sir,” you glance over to him, “You’re really good at training, but I think you should be flying missions. You’re too good of a pilot to be stuck on teaching duties.” 

Maverick pauses for a moment, caught off guard by your unexpected compliment. It's clear he wasn't expecting you to say that. He huffs, shaking his head as if trying to dismiss what you said.

"Well, aren't you just full of surprises, sweetheart." He smirks and turns to look you in the eye. "I take it you read up on my file, huh? Got all the dirty little details on Mr. Top Gun himself."

“Of course, but my father trained here a couple years after you.” your gaze returns to the aviators, “He’s always looked up to you, says you're one of the greatest.” 

Maverick's smirk falters for a second, his expression unreadable. He shifts his weight and adjusts the collar of his shirt, suddenly looking a bit uncomfortable.

"Your old man, huh?” He clears his throat. “I had no idea." There's a brief pause before he speaks again, his voice taking on a slightly softer tone. "What's he doing nowadays?"

You reply with a shrug, “Not sure. He wasn’t so keen on having a *shrink* hanging around. Said it cramps his style.” Maverick snorts, that sarcastic smirk returning to his face. 

"Yeah, that sounds like a pilot, alright." He says with a chuckle. His gaze flicks over to the team, currently going through flight drills. He lets out a deep breath before speaking again, a hint of contemplation in his voice. "Did you ever think about becoming a pilot?”

“I did, but I don't think I meet the height requirement.” you smile up at him. Maverick chuckles at your joke, a rare glimpse of genuine humor in his expression.

"Ah yes, the height requirement. The bane of many short people's existence." He teases, his smirk widening. Before you can respond, both of you turn your attention to the sound of the aviators approaching. They look exhausted but pleased, clearly proud of a job well done.

Jake walks towards you, sweat dripping down his forehead from the strenuous training. He stands a little too close, his eyes fixed on you and his breathing heavy. "Hey, Y/N." Jake says, his voice strained from the workout. "You got a minute?” you shift your gaze to the older man at your right, clearing your throat before speaking. 

“No, I’m quite busy.” your usual playful tone is replaced with a distant and cold one.

Maverick picks up on your plea immediately, his expression hardening at the sight of Jake's attempt to speak with you. He steps forward slightly, creating a small barrier between you and Jake.

Jake looks taken back by your cold response, his cocky demeanor slipping slightly. He glances between you and Maverick, clearly confused. "Ah, come on. Just a quick minute." He presses.

“There’s time to talk later.” Maverick interrupts, making you sigh in relief. Jake's cocky smile falters at your cold rejection and Maverick's intervention. He glances at the older man, clearly annoyed by his interruption. 

"It's alright, Maverick," he says, trying to shrug off Maverick's protective stance. "I just wanted to talk to Y/N for a second. It won't take long."  you cower behind Mav, unwilling to face Jake alone again.

Rooster interrupts the tense situation, “Mav, should we hit the showers? Or is there more training to be done?” Jake’s face darkens at Rooster’s question, clearly frustrated that his attempt to speak with you is being constantly interrupted. He clenches his jaw, his irritation palpable.

Maverick, however, remains calm. He gives you a reassuring look before turning to face his team. "Yeah, you guys go ahead and hit the showers." Maverick says, his hand still on your shoulder. "I’ll take care of the situation here." The team nods, sensing the tension in the air, and starts making their way towards the showers.

You avoid Jake's gaze, biting down on your lower lip as you sigh with the tension between the three of you. As the team heads off to the showers, the tension in the air still hangs heavily. Jake stands there, hands on his hips, as he stares at you with a mix of disappointment and anger.

Meanwhile, Maverick's hand goes to your shoulder, a silent show of support. "You really going to keep avoiding me like this?" Jake finally blurts out, breaking the silence.

“If I can.” you say, voice barely above a whisper. “You’re like a damn hawk.” Mav gives you a quizzical gaze before you sigh. “It’s okay Sir, I’ll talk to him” he gives you a soft nod, heading off toward the buildings. 

Once Maverick leaves, Jake's attention refocuses on you, his gaze narrowing as he steps closer. "You’ve been avoiding me all week. We need to talk." His voice is firm, his frustration evident.

“It’s only been a couple days,” you protest, Jake's annoyance only grows at your words, his jaw tightening as he steps even closer, closing the space between you. 

"A couple of days?! It's felt like an eternity. And yeah, I remember our last conversation. It didn't exactly go well." He crosses his arms over his chest, his eyes narrowing as he looks down at you. "You can't keep brushing me aside like this." 

You take a few steps back, sighing with defeat. “Jake, why do you care so much now?” Jake's eyes flick down to the space between you, watching you take a few steps back. His expression softens slightly as he hears the resignation in your voice.

He runs a hand through his hair, frustration etched across his features. "Why do I care?” he repeats, as if the answer should be obvious. “Because I..." He trails off, his own emotions catching him off guard. He pauses, grappling with the words he wants to say, before finding them again. 

You gulp, brushing past him heading toward the buildings. Jake turns, his eyes following you as you try to brush past him. He reaches out, his hand encircling your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

"Hey, wait." His voice is softer now, more pleading. "Please, just stop and listen to me for a second."

“Okay, fine.” you pull your wrist from his grasp. Jake's hand hangs in the air for a moment after you pull away, your sharp movement surprising him slightly. But he quickly regains his composure and drops it back to his side.

He takes a deep breath and steps closer to you. He wants to reach out and touch you again, but he restrains himself. "I just... I can't stand this. This constant avoidance." 

“Worked well for you when it was you avoiding me.” you bite back. 

Jake's face flushes slightly, guilt flashing across his features. Your words hit him like a punch to the gut, reminding him of his own past behavior. He lets out a frustrated breath, his gaze dropping to the ground. "That was different..." 

“It’s not and you know it.” your head lowers as your mind goes back to your previous conversation, where you confessed your feelings for him and he shut them down quickly. Jake looks at you as your head lowers, regret in his eyes. He instinctively reaches out, gently placing a hand on your shoulder.

"Baby, please." His voice is soft, almost pleading. "Just let me talk for a minute." His touch is tentative, as if he's afraid you'll brush him away again. He wants you to hear him out, but he doesn't want to push you further away in the process. 

You’re taken aback by the pet name, allowing him time to speak. Jake notices the effect his words have on you, a flicker of hope sparking in his eyes. He realizes that he might have a chance to explain himself now.

He takes a deep breath and begins, his voice steady but sincere. "When you told me about your feelings, it took me completely by surprise. I didn't expect it at all. And, honestly, I didn't know how to handle it." His gaze drops to the ground for a moment, his hand lightly squeezing your shoulder. 

You take a deep breath, “Jake,” you move his hand from you. “The only reason you care now is because, because I’m finally *decent* enough for your attention.” 

Jake's expression darkens at your words, a mixture of anger and regret in his eyes. He knows your words carry truth, and it hurts. "That's not true." he protests, his voice tight. "If I'm here now, it's not because I suddenly think you're *decent enough*. It's because..." 

“Because what?” your eyes scan his face. 

Jake runs a hand through his hair, struggling to find the words to explain himself. His eyes lock onto yours, as he tries to convey the depth of his emotions.

"Because I realize now what an idiot I've been," he bursts out, his frustration and remorse clear in his tone. "But... something changed and I..." 

“What changed?” you sigh, Jake's eyes drop to the ground as he grapples with how to answer. He runs a hand through his hair before looking back up at you.

"I don't know," he admits, his voice quieter now, "maybe it was time, or realizing I'm not a kid anymore, but..." He takes a deep breath, steadying himself. "You're different now. You've grown, you've become this..." He gestures towards you, struggling to find the right words. 

“Jake stop..” you look up at him with wary eyes, “That's not fair,”

Jake stops, his eyes widening at your words. "What do you mean it's not fair?" He steps forward, confusion and frustration etched in his expression.

"I'm trying to explain myself, to make you understand why I care now," he says, his voice straining to remain calm. "How is that not fair?"

“Why? Why now?” your voice becomes louder with your growing frustration. Jake's own frustration flares up in response to your growing anger. His hands clench into fists at his sides as he tries to control his emotions.

"I can't explain why now!" he snaps, his voice rising to match yours. "I don't know why I didn't say anything before. I was a dumbass, and I'm sorry!" He runs a hand through his hair, his eyes never leaving your face. "I... I just wish I could go back and fix everything.” 

You open your mouth to speak, yet nothing leaves your lips. Jake notices your hesitation and his expression softens slightly, hope flickering in his eyes. He takes a step closer, his voice quieter now.

"Please. Just... say something. Anything." his hand snakes around your waist, pulling you closer, his hand pressing into the small of your back. You stay silent, unable to process his words and find a response. 

Jake's touch on your waist is firm but not overpowering. He pulls you closer, his eyes searching your face for some kind of response. He notices your silence, the way you seem to be frozen in place. His brow furrows with concern. "Please, talk to me," he pleads. "Don't just stand there." 

You cover his mouth with your hand, needing a second to think. Jake freezes as you place your hand over his mouth, preventing him from speaking any further for the moment. He instinctively responds to your touch, however, pressing a soft kiss against your palm.

His eyes fix on yours, full of hope and anticipation, waiting for you to speak. You feel your guard dropping with his affection, leaning into his body. 

Jake pulls you closer as you lean into him, his arms wrapping fully around you. The tension in the air eases slightly as he holds you tight against his body, his heart racing against your chest. He takes a deep breath, his chin resting on the top of your head. "Please, just talk to me," he whispers into your hair, his voice gentle and desperate. 

“Jake…” you press your forehead against his shoulder, “I..” Jake feels your forehead press against his shoulder, and he holds you a little tighter, his arms encircling you like a protective veil.

"Please," he repeats, his voice barely a whisper, "tell me what you're thinking." He gently tucks a finger under your chin, gently tilting your head up to meet his gaze. His eyes search yours, desperate for some kind of response. 

Your eyes glance to his lips, hands grasping his sides. “I, uh. I don’t know what to say,” your tongue flicks out to wet your lip. Jake's body tenses as he leans in towards you, his breath warm against your lips. He holds you tightly, his grip firm but gentle.

"You don't have to say anything," he murmurs, the corners of his lips barely brushing against yours, "Just... just let me show you." His eyes search yours, filled with a deep mixture of desire and vulnerability. Waiting for your response, for any sign that it's okay to proceed. 

“Jake..” you murmur, his breath hitches at the tone of your voice, the sound of his name on your lips sending a shiver down his spine. He leans in even closer, his lips mere millimeters from yours, his eyes locked on yours.

"Say it again," he whispers, his voice low and rough. "Say my name again." you shake your head in response,  pressing your lips to his. Jake's heart stutters at the touch of your lips against his. He responds immediately, the tension between you snapping as he kisses you back.

He molds his body against yours, one hand gripping your hip to pull you tighter against his chest. The other hand moves to the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair. He kisses you deeply, a thousand unsaid words translated through the contact. 

Your desire momentarily outweighs your grudge against him. Your resistance fades further as Jake's hand slides down your back, his touch igniting a fire within you. He caresses your body with a combination of firm desire and tender finesse, as if he's both demanding and reverent.

His hand cups your ass, his touch a combination of possessive and loving. He pulls you even closer, pressing your body fully against his, his tongue delving deeper into your mouth. He kisses you hungrily, his body craving more, but his hands remain gentle and careful. 

Jake pulls back from the kiss, his forehead resting against yours. Both of you gasp for air, chests heaving as you take a moment to catch your breath.

His eyes remain locked onto yours, a mix of desire, hope, and something else - something deeper - swirling within them. His hands remain on your body, his touch possessive but tender. He runs his thumb over your cheek, a soft gesture of affection. "Say something," he murmurs again, his voice gruff with need. 

“I think,” you take a deep breath, “I think I should leave Jake.” your hands fall from his sides. 

As you speak, as those words leave your lips, something flickers in Jake's eyes. Fear, regret, desperation, all battling for dominance within him. He feels your hands fall away from his sides and his own hands tighten slightly on your hips, as if reflexively trying to pull you back.

"Please, don't go." His voice is thick with emotion, his grip on you bordering on pleading. "Please." your hands cup his cheeks, pulling him in for another deep kiss. Your brain constantly fighting the way your body clings to him. 

As your lips meet in another deep kiss, Jake melts into your touch like a man starved. His hands move to your waist, pulling you flush against his body, his touch firm and possessive.

He kisses you hungrily, his tongue delving into your mouth, seeking connection and reassurance. His heartbeat thuds against your chest, his body reacting to your touch with a mix of need and desperation. 

He doesn't want to let you go. Not now. Jake's body presses even closer against yours, his leg slipping in between yours, creating a tantalizing friction as he wedges himself between your thighs.

His hands roam your body, his touch both rough and tender, a manifestation of the emotions he can't quite find words for. His mouth moves down your neck, his kisses becoming more insistent, more possessive, like a man marking his claim.

He needs you, and he's making it painfully clear. You moan softly, your head leaning to the side to give him better access. Jake's hands grip your hips as he kisses your neck, his lips tracing a path of fire along your skin. The sound of your soft moans only emboldens him, his own body responding to your noises in kind.

You feel him harden against you, a physical reminder of his desire for you. His kisses grow more intense, his teeth gently nipping at your skin as he tries to reign in his self-control. 

He wants more. He needs more. He growls against your skin, his hands moving under your shirt, his fingers tracing up your sides. He nips lightly at your collarbone, his own need growing with each sound that leaves your lips.

“Mm Jake,” you push against his chest, “Wait.” Jake's body stills as you push against his chest, his mind still clouded with desire. He pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes hazy and dark.

He tries to process what you're saying, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts. He swallows hard, trying to control his racing heart. "Wait... what?" His voice is low and hoarse, his body still pressed against yours, his hands gripping your hip. 

“Take me home,” you murmur, intoxicated by his body on yours. Your lips press to his with hunger, arms wrapping around his neck. Jake's brain struggles to process your words, his body still caught in the haze of desire that surrounds you both. But as your lips brush against his again, the sound of your voice, filled with need, cuts through the fog.

He responds to your hunger with his own, pulling you even closer, his arms wrapping around your waist. He deepens the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours, his body pressed completely against yours.

When the kiss finally breaks, he rests his forehead against yours, his voice a ragged whisper. "Yes. Anything you want." you nod against his head, pulling him closer as you’re unwilling to let him go. 

Jake holds you tight as you nod, his arms encircling you possessively, not wanting to let you go either.

He takes a moment to compose himself, taking a deep breath and trying to gather his thoughts. But the feeling of you in his arms, the sound of your voice, the scent of your skin, they all cloud his mind and make it difficult to do anything but touch you.

He nuzzles his face into your neck, his voice low and rough. "We need to go." 

“Mhm,” your hands wander down his chest, to his lower abdomen, moving to his belt. “We really need to,” Your touch on his body sets his nerves on fire, his muscles tensing under your hands as you move them lower. The feel of your fingers on his belt sends a shiver down his spine, his breath hitching at the contact.

He swallows hard, trying to maintain his composure, but your proximity and your touch make it difficult. He grips your hips tighter, his fingers digging into your skin as he tries to control himself. His voice, when he speaks, is a rough murmur. "Not here.”

You reluctantly pull away from him, handing him the keys from your pocket. Jake takes them from you, his fingers brushing against yours, the contact electric. He watches you pull away, his eyes following your movements closely.

He clenches the keys in his fist, the cold metal a stark contrast to the heat in his veins. His body thrums with need, the need to touch you, to hold you, to *claim* you.

He takes a deep breath, trying to compose himself. "Lead the way." you slide into the passenger seat of your car, putting your address into the gps, restlessly waiting for him inside. Jake slides into the driver's seat beside you, his movements quick and urgent. The sight of you in the seat next to him, the knowledge that he's about to take you home, only serves to heighten his desire.

He starts the car, his hand gripping the gear shift tightly, his knuckles turning white. He glances over at you, taking in your restless demeanor, and a smirk crosses his lips. He knows exactly how affected you are, and it only makes his own need surge. Your hand falls to his lap as you squeeze your legs together in anticipation of what's to come. 

Jake's breath hitches as your hand lands on his lap, the touch sending a jolt through his body. He can tell how tightly you're holding yourself, how the anticipation is affecting you, and it only adds to his own desire.

His eyes flicker down to your hand on his lap, and he has to fight the urge to pull the car over and take you right then and there.

He keeps his eyes on the road, his grip on the steering wheel white-knuckled. "We're almost there." His voice is hoarse, filled with tension. 

“Almost,” you whisper in response, moving your fingertips over his bulge, teasing his body. 

Your fingers brush over his erection, and he lets out a strangled gasp. His hand flies to yours, pressing your hand against him, as if trying to both stop you and encourage you at the same time.

He clenches his jaw, his body tensing at your touch. "Tease," he mutters through clenched teeth, his eyes darting from the road to you and back again. He groans, his body aching for release. You move closer, using your free hand to unbuckle his belt. 

You successfully remove his belt, fingers fumbling with the button and zipper. Jake's breath catches in his throat as you move closer, your hands working on removing his pants. His body tenses, both in anticipation and because he's trying to focus on driving.

He bites back another curse as you unbutton and unzip his pants, his eyes flickering between the road and your hands. He grips the steering wheel tighter, his knuckles white with tension. "We're almost there," he repeats, his voice strained. "Just... just hold on a little longer." 

“Fifteen more minutes,” you groan, hand sliding into his pants. Jake's body jerks at your touch, his hips lifting involuntarily, seeking more of your touch. He lets out a low, ragged groan, struggling to keep his focus on the road.

He looks at you, his eyes dark and intense. "Fifteen minutes," he repeats in agreement, his voice gravelly and rough, "that's it. I can last fifteen minutes." He reaches down, his hand covering yours, but not pushing you away, his touch firm and possessive. 

“Mm, but I can’t.” you murmur as you free him from his boxers, his erection standing straight up. Your words and your touch send a shiver down Jake's spine, his body responding to your every move. 

He closes his eyes for a moment, your touch like fire to his skin, the air in the car suddenly thick. "Jesus," he breathes, his head falling back, "you're going to make me crash."

As you stroke him gently, Jake's eyes fly open, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. "If you keep doing that, I'm not going to be able to drive," he warns, his voice strained with desire.

Ignoring Jake's warning, you lean in and press a soft kiss to his jaw, sending shivers down his spine. His body jolts with surprise and pleasure. Your hand continues to stroke him as your mouth moves closer to his erection, and with a strangled groan, he abruptly pulls the car over to the side of the road, the tires screeching against the pavement. 

His eyes lock onto yours, a mix of desire and alarm, but he says nothing as you wrap your lips around the tip of his cock, the heat of your mouth enveloping him. His hands fly to the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as you begin to suck, the rhythm slow and tantalizing.

His hands grasp your shoulders, gently but firmly, and he pulls you away from his lap. "Wait, wee can't do this here," he says, his voice strained with need and concern. His eyes are dark with desire, but he's visibly fighting to regain control. "Not here, this wouldn’t be right." His words hang in the air, and for a moment, the only sound is the heavy panting of your breath and the pulsing of his erection against your hand. 

You reluctantly pull back, your own desire warring with the understanding in his gaze. "Let's go to your place," he suggests, his voice still thick with lust. "We can... talk things out properly there." He releases you, his hands dropping to the steering wheel as he takes several deep breaths, trying to calm his racing heart.

He speeds to your place, rushing to get you inside. The tension in the car is palpable as Jake shifts it into park, his eyes never leaving yours. You both exit the vehicle, and he takes your hand in his, his touch surprisingly gentle given the fiery passion that had flared between you moments ago. As you enter your townhouse, the urgency from the car seems to dissipate slightly, allowing for a brief moment of awkwardness to settle in. 

You unlock the door and lead him inside, the cool air conditioning a stark contrast to the heat that still simmers between you. Once the door is closed, Jake turns to you, his gaze searching your face for any hint of regret or hesitation. Seeing none, he leans in, capturing your mouth in a kiss that's both desperate and tender. 

Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer, as if trying to erase the years of hurt and distance. His hands roam over your body, reacquainting themselves with your curves, and for a moment, it feels like no time has passed at all.

The kiss deepens, and Jake's hands move to the button of your pants, his fingers deftly undoing it and sliding the zipper down. You gasp into his mouth as he breaks the kiss, his eyes never leaving yours as he kneels before you. He hooks his thumbs into the waistband of your pants, pulling them down along with your underwear, exposing your bare skin to the cool air. 

His gaze travels downward, taking in your wetness with a mix of hunger and awe. "Fuck," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire, before pressing his mouth to your inner thigh, kissing and nipping the sensitive flesh as he moves closer to your center. His tongue traces the line of your pussy, eliciting a moan from deep within you. His hands grip your hips, keeping you in place as he kisses and licks you with purposeful strokes, the heat of his breath sending waves of pleasure through your body. 

You lean back, falling into the couch, your legs spreading wider, giving him full access to explore and taste you. The tension of the day dissipates as he worships your body, his mouth working magic on your clit, his hands exploring and caressing you as if trying to make up for lost time. The air is thick with the scent of arousal, the only sounds in the room your muffled moans and the wet sounds of his tongue against your skin. 

Jake's eyes meet yours again, and you can see the need in them, the raw desire that matches your own. You reach down, threading your fingers through his hair, urging him closer, whispering his name as you feel yourself getting closer to the edge.

As Jake continues to kiss and suck on your clit, you can't help but squirm against his mouth, the sensations building to an unbearable peak. You grab onto his shoulders for support, your moans growing louder with each passing moment. 

Suddenly, the dam breaks and you cum hard, your body shaking with the intensity of your orgasm. He doesn't pull away, instead, he laps up every drop of your release, groaning with his own pleasure at the taste of you. 

As the waves of pleasure subside, you collapse onto the couch, panting and trembling, your eyes fluttering open to meet his intense gaze. He stands, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, a smug look on his face. "See, we can still get along," he murmurs, his voice thick with lust. 

The sight of him standing there, looking so confident and desperate for more, makes your heart race. You can't deny the pull between you, the undeniable chemistry that's always been there. But as you look into his eyes, you know that this isn't just about sex. 

Jake's kisses slowly travel up your legs, turning from hungry to gentle pecks that make your skin tingle with sensitivity. His eyes never leave yours as he shifts his body, moving from his knees to the couch beside you. He wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him, and you can feel his heart racing in sync with your own. 

His other hand continues to trace patterns on your bare thigh, the softness of his touch a stark contrast to the fervor of moments ago. His eyes are filled with a tenderness that you never knew existed within him, and it's this that has your chest tightening with a mix of emotions. 

With trembling hands, Jake fumbles with his zipper, the metal teeth parting with a low hiss. His eyes never leave your face, the intensity of his gaze setting your skin alight. He swiftly pushes his pants down to his thighs, freeing his erection. It stands tall and proud, a testament to his desire. The room feels like it's closing in, the air thick with anticipation.

You pull him to you by his collar, kissing his lips hungrily. The fabric of his shirt is rough against your skin, but the heat of his body underneath is anything but. His tongue meets yours with an urgency that mirrors your own, your kisses deepening as his hand slides up your shirt, palming your breast. You arch into his touch, a soft moan escaping your lips as his thumb grazes your nipple.

He pulls you onto his lap, your legs straddling his thighs. He kisses you again, his tongue invading your mouth with a passion that leaves you breathless. You can feel him, hot and hard, pressing against your wetness, and it's all you can do to not grind down onto him immediately.

Jake's hands are everywhere, exploring the curves of your body as if he's worshiping a sacred relic. You can feel the heat of his breath against your skin as he kisses down your neck, leaving a trail of soft, sucking marks that make you shiver with pleasure. His teeth graze your skin, not hard enough to break it, but enough to leave a sting that makes your pulse race.

As your moans fill the quiet room, you can't help but move your hand to wrap around his erection. Your grip is firm, your strokes measured as you watch his face contort with pleasure. His eyes are closed, his head thrown back, and the noises he makes are pure, unadulterated ecstasy. You stroke him faster, your hand moving in a rhythm that matches the beat of your racing heart.

His hips buck upward, meeting your hand with each stroke, his breath coming in short, ragged pants. You can feel the tension in his body, the coiled spring of his muscles ready to snap. And when he's right there, on the precipice of climax, his head falls forward into the crook of your neck, his mouth finding your skin.

The feel of his needy moans against your flesh sends a shiver down your spine, your own body responding to the raw, primal sounds. You tighten your grip, your strokes becoming quicker, more erratic, your own breathing syncing with his. Each moan that escapes his lips is like a command, urging you to bring him over the edge.

His body tenses beneath you, his muscles tightening like a bowstring about to snap. And then it happens. With a guttural moan, he cums undone in your hand, his release hot and sticky as it coats your palm and fingers. His hips jerk upward, his cock pulsing in your grip as he rides out the waves of pleasure. His eyes squeeze shut, and his breath comes out in sharp gasps.

For a moment, there's silence, save for the sound of your own racing heart and his labored breathing. You sit there, still straddling him, watching him come down from the high of his orgasm. His chest is heaving, his eyes still closed as he savors the feeling.

You slide from his lap, relaxing into your couch as the weight of your actions crashes over you. You turn your back to him, biting your lip as you think about what to do next.

Jake watches you, his eyes tracing the curves of your body, still trying to regain his breath. He reaches out, his hand brushing against your arm, his touch gentle but insistent. "Look at me," he murmurs, his voice raspy and rough.

You turn to him with a breathy sigh, avoiding his gaze. Jake notices your averted eyes, his fingers moving to your chin, gently lifting it until you're forced to meet his gaze. 

"Don't look away," he whispers, his eyes searching yours. "I want to see you."

"Jake," you whisper his name, eyes softening at his expression. You knew it wasn’t a mistake, it couldn't be, not on your part. You've been in love with him your whole life, but what if it was all lust for him. 

Jake cups your face in his hands, his thumbs tracing the lines of your cheekbones. He can see the mixture of emotions in your eyes - love, lust, fear, and regret. He gently shakes his head, his gaze intense.

“Jake, is this really what you wanted?” you take a deep breath, “Not just some game to you?” 

Jake watches you intently as you withdraw, his hands falling to your waist, his touch firm yet gentle. "This isn't a game to me," he says, his voice serious. "It never was." 

He pulls you closer, his eyes locked onto yours. "I've always wanted you, more than anything else," he continues, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin. "But I thought I lost my chance with you a long time ago." he presses a soft kiss to your chest. 

The tension in your body vanishes the second he speaks, you relax into his touch, audibly sighing. “Always?”

Jake smiles, his hands roaming your body as if trying to memorize every contour. "Always," he confirms, his voice a whisper. "Since we were kids." He pulls you onto his lap, cradling you against his chest. He can feel your tension melting away, replaced by an air of comfortable intimacy.

“You’re confusing,” you sigh, feeling his hands pulling you closer to him, his chin resting on top of your breasts. 

Jake chuckles, his breath warm against your skin. "I know," he replies, his arms encircling you possessively. "I've always had a habit of making you scratch your head, haven't I?"

He nuzzles his face against your chest, his tongue tracing a gentle line between your cleavage. "But that's nothing new," he whispers, his voice husky with desire. "I've always gotten a kick out of confusing you."

You gasp in response to his tongue, hands squeezing his shoulders. “Mm, fuck.” Jake feels your hands clenching his shoulders, and he grins against your skin, his tongue continuing to explore the valley between your breasts. 

"Language, princess," he teases, his voice laced with amusement. "You know how I feel about filthy mouths."His lips move up to your neck, gently nipping at the sensitive skin. "Makes me want to shut you up."

“Are you going to be able to be professional at work?” your murmur, hands tangling in his hair as you force him to look at you.

Jake chuckles, his eyes meeting yours. "Are you kidding me?" he counters, his grin widening. "When have I ever been professional when it comes to you?"

He shakes his head, pulling you closer until your bodies are flush against each other. "I've been trying to hide how I feel about you for years. Do you really think now that I've finally got you in my arms, I'm going to play it cool at work?"

“Jake,” you purse your lips at him, pressing a quick peck to his. “You know that I already have a problem with your coworkers…I don't want to make it worse.”

Jake lets out a groan of frustration, his hands moving to the small of your back, pulling you even closer. "I know, I know," he mutters, his lips returning to your neck. "But can you blame me for acting like a possessive jerk? You've got all those guys drooling over you, and it drives me insane."

“They only drool over me because of how form fitting my uniform is,” you reply sweetly, “Now imagine if they saw me in a bikini.” you whisper against his ear teasingly. 

Jake's grip on you tightens, his breath hitching at your words. "A bikini," he repeats, his voice dropping an octave. "Now that's a mental image I'll have trouble getting out of my head."

He pulls back slightly to look at you, his gaze dark with desire. "You like teasing me, don't you?" he accuses, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "You know what that does to me."

“I think we need to take a beach trip one of these days,” you smile innocently.

Jake's hands continue to roam your body, his touch growing more possessive. "A beach trip?" he echoes, his mind already filling with images of you in a bikini. "That's a dangerous idea, princess."

He leans in, his lips moving to your ear. "But I like how you think," he murmurs, his voice low and seductive.

[sarahreesbrennan]

Thank you for writing Long Live Evil.

I'm no cancer survivor, so I haven't been through the horror that that must've been, congratulations to enduring and surviving, and my sincere condolences that you had to go through it.

But I am chronically ill (cystic fibrosis, genetic defect) and have so far lived for 5 years longer than my prognosis allowed. My health's been good and stabile for a long time now, but I remember times where I couldn't walk alone, had a 18/6 nasal cannula and a 24-hour IV drip instead of school or a future.

Now I'm working at university, an archaeologist, chipping away at writing stories for years and years, and incredibly glad and privileged to see the world. All this to say that seeing how hurt Rae was in the beginning (and again throughout the story, while also never truly forgetting her true roots and motives) and how she grew around it like a gnarled tree, was like catharsis for me. Having miraculously given a second chance, no matter how hard the fight to keep it will be; I haven't ever read any story talking about this in a way that made me feel seen and understood like this. Thank you also lots and lots for taking the time to mention Rae's appreciation for Rahela's curves — it's been the same for me, since I've managed to get out of the underweight-trap. It means a lot to me, and I guess to many others in similar situations, including you of course. Thank you for sharing this with us, it must've been hard to touch on a deeply personal experience like this in writing that's simultaneously removed from oneself through fiction (at least that's what I'm imagining).

Thank you, and I wish you nothing but the best, health, and lots of good days to come. Deeply curious to see how Rae's story will continue!

Thank you so much for this.

I am so glad you are alive. Thank you for that, too - for living on even when you couldn’t see a way forward and everything was helpless despair.

I haven’t been through what you’ve been through, either, but it’s a privilege to have shared adjoining experiences trapped in darkness, and to share gladness and the wide world with you now. I’m so sorry it happened, and so happy you have archaeology and stories, and the world has you.

I will be totally honest and say it has been hard sharing Long Live Evil with the world, and I’m so grateful to you for knowing that, and for sending this message because you knew. This book is highly personal to me, but it’s also meant to be a wild celebration of messiness, escapism, and finding humour in art and darkness. And that means to some it’s just a joke, and in the words of Joanna Russ, ‘she’s not really an artist and it’s not really art.’ And so it gets dismissed, and it does hurt to see my most important story dismissed sometimes.

I was with other writers in a public space at one point and they were talking about how their books were about serious issues while ‘Sarah’s book is just for fun, and that’s fine too!’ (I had to take a minute before I could lean into my microphone and say ‘My book is about cancer’ in a cheery tone.) I’ve seen readers saying ‘this book’s just fluff, just silly, I’m ashamed of myself for reading it, there’s nothing to it’ about the book I wrote about almost dying.

My Rae, while of course she has bits of me in her (every character I’ve ever written does), and evil queens I’ve loved, and characters with wild hubris going on in the Greek plays I mention often in the book, and readers I’ve seen and I’ve been who are blithely confident they know what’s going on without doing more than surface reading and while forgetting key details… she’s also bits of women and girls I’ve mentored, been mentored by, befriended. And some of them are dead. So seeing the bits that were them particularly scorned or judged, seeing her pain dismissed or the discussion of her body sneered at…

That has been hard.

But.

In the end I believe I am really an artist and this book is really art, and art is there for the wide world to judge - to be mocked and dismissed, yes, as a price that comes with the opportunity to also be truly seen and appreciated, to get to influence real people’s real lives. Art is the gold that comes from the crucible in which we put all our pain and all our love and all our joys. I believe it deepens and transforms.

I wrote this book about how deeply unsympathetic people actually are to sufferers of illness, chronic or otherwise, and especially to women expressing pain. How the world villainises imperfect victims—which means all victims. How the world villainises bodies, and robs us of our joy in them—even when there’s horror in a body, too. I did know that by putting this book out into this world, that attitude would be reflected back by the world onto the book. And that attitude has hurt me in the past, and hurts me when I see it now.

I still think it’s worth calling out that attitude, even if it means getting more of that attitude reflected back onto me - because it means readers like you see it, and know others have been through this, and it was never okay, and you were never alone. While I know there will also be readers with chronic illnesses and/or cancer whose experience doesn’t overlap with mine at all, that only means there need to be more stories. So everyone who needs it gets the map into fantasy lands.

And I do hope some able-bodied readers read it, and think twice about adopting the world’s attitude to the people in their lives who are already going through enough. Some readers have told me the book helped them sympathise with and understand the cancer sufferers in their family and friend circles, and that’s meant a great deal. What do we write for, if not to learn to love each other better?

Long Live Evil has also given me my life back, as truly as chemo did, in a way that makes the pain worthwhile - I think I would have kept telling stories in some form, but Long Live Evil was my last throw, for as far ahead as I could see. Now since the book’s done well so far I’m hoping I can write more books, and my life can be the storytelling shape I always wanted it to be.

I read your message and I regretted nothing. I remember the pain and the way so many of us laughed or tried to laugh our way through it, and I know this was my way. Jokes, like stories, are the golden thread we follow through the dark labyrinth of our own agony and incomprehension.

It really has been hard, and it’ll stay hard. But like living, it’s worth it.

Please know two things.

I am so happy I wrote this book. Ultimately more than any other feeling I had so, so much fun writing it, and I’m having even more fun seeing the book be read by the people it was meant for.

2. This book was written for you.

[russellsppttemplates]

All the milestones (Lando Norris)

Fraser came earthside earlier than you expected

Note: english is not my first language. Believe it or not, I'm also a preemie (genetically and health wise, I am a catch, I know). Jokes aside as this is a serious topic, I was born at thirty three weeks because of some complications and it all turned out well, but I am aware of what it entailed from people telling me and it isn't something I've seen around here! Knowing that the diversity I write brings comfort to read and to ask this warms my heart up so much 🫶 I'm also basing this off of my mum's experience!

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: mentions c-section and themes related to hospital stays and procedures, prematurity, pre-eclampsia

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

"I'm really sorry I can't go with you, darling", Lando apoligised as he set the plate with lunch in front of you, "it's okay, it's just an ultrasound", you responded, "we're just going to check if everything is alright with you, right, little one?", you tapped your babybump softly. At thirty weeks pregnant, you were starting to feel the tiredness and aches like you had felt in your previous pregnancy, only now you had a toddler to look after as well, so you had been taking it easy. Fortunately, you were able to juggle work and family life in a way that allowed you to make the minimum compromise to both spheres of your life.

"Drink your water, baby", Lando reminded you, tapping the jug, "I'm going to pick up my dad from the airport and then we'll both get Tilly. Are you feeling like going out for dinner or should I get take out and we eat here?", he questioned, taking a bite of his food.

"I'd prefer to stay in", you stated, "are you feeling like anything special?", he asked back.

"Right now I can't think of anything", you offered, not really looking forward to eating the delicious food in front of you if you were really being honest. Still, you manage to eat the most of it.

"Have a good meeting, Lan, I love you", you said as you put your coat on, grabbing your bag with all your documents.

"Be safe, okay, baby?", he checked, kissing the top of your head and then kissing your baby bump, "and you too, buddy, keep yourself and mummy safe and sound, don't give her too much trouble", he said, helping you out of the door before you went on your separate ways, "I love you, gorgeous mummy!", he winked before he got inside his car.

Once you arrived at the hospital and checked yourself in, your midwife Amelia greeted you in the examination room, "how have you been feeling, Y/N?", she asked as she slipped the bad on your arm to get your blood pressure numbers, sending the urine sample to the lab.

"I've been feeling a little tired, especially compared to last time, which I can only put down to having Tilly, and she's a very calm child", you giggled, remaining quiet as the machine got your numbers.

"These look quite high, did you run up here?", she asked, "no, I got here earlier than I expected actually, I've been sitting on the waiting room for a bit", you scrunched your face.

"We'll just wait for your results and then we'll see if it's something we have to wordy about", she tranquilized, "let's see you baby boy, shall we?", she smiled as you lifted your shirt, letting her apply the cream and move the wand around.

"There's your son, Y/N", she smiled, "He's a bit quiet, but the heartbeat sounds good", she smiled, taking a few more pictures so you could bring them home for Lando and Matilda to see.

A knock on the door alerted you both as Amelia was taking your measurements, "I have the results for Y/N Y/L/N-Norris", your OB checked, seeing you in the room, "Hi, Y/N, I thought I'd only see you later", she said as she walked in. She pulled on a stool and sat on it, "your results are indicating that you might be in pre-eclampsia", she said as she showed the tablet's screen to Amelia, her stern expression confirming your suspicions on how serious the situation was, "your body is having trouble keeping up with everything, hence your high blood pressure and your urine results suggest your kidneys are working overtime as well", Dr. Martin said as you straightened up, hands coming to wrap around your baby bump protectively, "your baby is fine, so that's not a big worry, but we do think it would be best if we delivered him tonight", she advised.

"But he's too small", you argued.

"You're at thirty weeks, which isn't ideal, but the survival rate is very very high for babies born at this time, and we also have a team that is specialised in preemie care, so he will be in the best hands", she comforted, "we need to give you corticosteroids to make sure the baby's lungs are ready for when he comes earthside, we'll get you admitted and monitor you and the baby to make sure he's not struggling either. In a few days, depending on how this goes, we'll do a c-section. I know it's not ideal, but this is the best way to make sure you and baby boy stay safe".

Sighing, you nodded, "okay, whatever is best for both of us", you asserted, "I just need to call Lando - my father in-law is coming to stay for a bit and they're getting Matilda from school", you thought out loud.

"Absolutely, dear, everything is going to be just fine", Amelia conforted while Dr. Martin set you up to go to a room.

Lando helped Matilda up to her car seat, strapping her in as she spoke to his father, "and did you have a good day, princess?", Adam asked, "yes, we coloured lots and we saw a couple of butterflies when we were having our snack!", she smiled as Lando drove home.

The car system alerted them of a call from you, "hey, beautiful, I'm in the car with my father and Tilly - say hi to mummy, babygirl!", he encouraged, "Hi, mummy!", she cheered, "Hey Y/N", Adam greeted too.

"Hey, guys! Lando, can you give the phone to your dad, please?", you asked, "sure, love", he said as he disconnected the phone from the car, nodding his father to take the phone in the console.

"Hey, Y/N, is everything alright?", Adam asked over the phone, "Hey, Adam, I hope you travelled well! I'm not sure if Lando told you, but I had an appointment today, and it turns out I have to be admitted", you began, "I don't want to worry him, much less when he's driving, so as soon as you get home, can you tell him to call me back again, please? Baby Fraser might join us sooner than we expected", you mumbled, nerves obvious in your voice as Adam stayed with a neutral face.

"Absolutely, Y/N, I'll let him know", he said before hanging up.

"What was it? Is everything alright?", Lando asked, knowing there would be a reason as to why you didn't want to have everyone listening to the conversation.

Checking the rearview mirror to see Matilda playing with one of her books, Adam clarified Lando, "she is going to stay at the hospital for a little longer than she expected for some check ups, she didn't want Matilda to hear about it", he said. It wasn't too much of a lie, and he certainly didn't want to scare anyone and since Lando would be calling you anyway, it could wait for a bit, "she asked you to call her when you got home. Don't worry, I'll keep Matilda entertained", he smiled.

Once they arrived, Adam left his things in the guest bedroom and met Matilda in the kuchen, "grandpa will make you some snacks. What do you want, darling?", he asked as he urged Lando to go and make a call to you.

"Hi, baby", Lando said as you picked up, "dad said you wanted me to call you, is everything alright?", he asked as he stepped inside the bedroom, hanging his coat in the closet.

"Hi, my love", you sighed and sending Lando into alert, "when they did my check up, Amelia took my blood pressure and it was really high, and my urine sample didn't look great either. It turns out I'm in pre-eclampsia and they want to keep me for observation, and it's likely Fraser will join us in the next few days", you added, "I need you here -, and things for me", you let out.

"Are you okay? I'll start packing right away", he said as he put his phone on speaker, looking for pyjamas and toiletries.

"My blood pressure is high - so far there's no distress for the baby, and they want to keep him in for as long as they can", you explained, "I, I am fine staying here on my own, that's okay, but I really need you here for a bit", you asked, "of course, my love. I'm going to pack these up quick and I'll be there. I love you", he said before you said it back, putting his phone in his pocket and zipping the bag.

"Daddy, where are you going?", Matilda asked as she saw the bag, "princess, mummy is going to stay in the hospital for a bit so the doctors can make sure her and baby are okay, and daddy is going to take a few things for her", he announced, crouching down so he was at her level.

"Is mummy sick?", she pouted, "she's a little tired, so they're going to make sure she rests up as much as she can", he slipped out, "I'm going to be there for a little bit to giver her her pyjamas so she's comfy, and then I'll be right back, okay? Can you stay here with grandpa?", he asked.

"Okay, daddy", she said before walking away, "but wait!", she called from the hall.

"I'll get dinner started and tuck her in if it gets too late - she didn't want me to tell you until you were home", he apoligised, "I know, I know, thanks for being here, it was bloody good timing", Lando mused.

Matilda came back with one of her stuffed toys, a McLaren bear she loved, "this is for mummy, so she doesn't sleep alone", she smiled sweetly. Maybe her innocence was positive because it meant she was dealing with the situation quite well.

"I'll give it to mummy, baby girl, I bet she'll love it", he smiled, kissing her cheek and leaving to the garage so he could drive to the hospital.

When he arrived, Amelia walked up with him as she told you all there was to know, knocking on your room door before they stepped inside.

"Darling", he said, setting the bag down and sitting next to you on the bed, kissing your forehead protectively, "how are you?", he asked.

"Fine, although I don't think it has really sunk in", you mumbled, playing with his fingers, "how is Tilly?", you wondered.

"She gave you Mr. Brown", he said as he fished out the bear from the bag, "she said she wanted you to have it so you wouldn't be alone in here", he smiled.

After spending as much time as he could with you, he bid you goodbye and went home, finding his father washing up the dishes as Matilda got her pyjamas on for the night, "I have a tupperware for you in the fridge if you want something to eat".

"Thanks, I've got it from here though - c'mon, little miss, we're going to sleep!", Lando hoisted her up, holding her on his hip as they walked upstairs to the bedroom, "can I sleep in your bed, daddy?", Matilda spoke in a small voice, "I don't want you to be alone either", she admitted.

Smiling at her sweetness, he nodded, "of course you can, love. Mummy sent her goodnight wishes for you, and maybe we can visit her tomorrow, how does that sound?", he smiled, "yes, please, daddy!".

.

"I made these for you, mummy, so your room is nice and colourful!", Matilda smiled as Lando let you in for a cuddle, your little girl getting help from her grandfather at ripping the tape so she could display her drawings she brought you almost daily, only missing days where Landk hadn't been able to bring her to the hospital because of their schedules.

"That's beautiful, darling, thank you so much", you gushed before turning to Lando, "has she cried again?", you whispered. You had been in the hospital for five days now, and two nights ago Matilda started with what was a tantrum at first and then evolved to crying about the fact that you weren't home. Lando was able to talk it out with her, welcoming her and allowing her to talk about how she was feeling and how it was beyond the fact that her tights were itching her.

"No, yesterday she told me she couldn't wait for you to come home, and that you were taking longer than she liked", he snickered, "always little miss rushing when it comes to you", he kissed the side of your head. Even though she was a daddy's girl through and through, she never made you feel left out.

"Y/N", Dr. Martin called after she stepped inside the room, "Oh, Matilda, you're so grown up already! Time flies by", she said as she waved at your little girl while Adam pulled her to sit on his lap, whispering "That's mummy's doctor, she is going to check up on her so you have to keep quiet, okay?" into her ear.

"I was checking your results, and I think between tonight and tomorrow, we might have to deliver your baby boy", she stated, everyone in the room straightening up as Matilda tried to read the adults' faces.

"His lungs look really good in the ultrasound we did this morning - as you know those were our biggest concerns, so we'll come up to monitor you, okay?", she rubbed your shoulder comfortingly before excusing herself.

"Well, I think it's best if we get going, then", Adam said as he got up, coming up to kiss the top of your head and squeeze your hand in his.

"Mummy, I know you're going to do very well", she said, earning small giggles around the room, "when can I come and meet the baby?", she stepped up to give you a kiss.

"We will have to see how it all goes, princess, but when you can, you'll be the first to come, okay?", you smiled, brushing the curls out of her eyes and kissing her head.

"I'll drop these guys home, get the baby bag and then I'll be back", Lando said, kissing your lips and your baby bump, "you stay in there for just a little longer, okay buddy?".

By the time Lando got back to the hospital, you had already been given a few medications to prep you for the c-section, "Kelly and Max advised that I shopped for some smaller clothes, so I have those in there", he tapped the baby bag, "and how are you feeling?", he cupped your cheek.

"My blood pressure is really high, so they're thinking about putting me under, like, full body anesthesia", you bit your lip. Getting surgery was already a big thing, but being completely under was another.

"Oh, okay", Lando gulped, "they won't let me be in there then", he realised, "that's not how we wanted this to happen, but it's going to be okay, gorgeous. You're the strongest woman I know, you're going to be just fine", he smiled, "and our baby boy will come out screaming and he will be the strongest little one ever", he said, trying to convince you and himself of his words. He was scared too, but it wouldn't do you both any good to dwell on it too much.

Knocking on the door, one of the lovely interns and Amelia came to get you, "are we all ready? I'm afraid you already know this, Lando, but you won't, be able to be with us in the OR", she apoligised, "I'll wait right here, if that's okay", your husband suggested, kissing you one last time before they wheeled you off, "I love you, Y/N", he muttered against your lips.

While he waited, he looked at the drawings in the room with precise attention, finding one where Matilda drew the four of you, her brother in your arms and Lando holding her hand, names scribbled under each person in Adam's writing.

Less than an hour later, Amelia stepped into the room, Lando getting up from his spot on the chair immediately, "everything went well, they were weaning Y/N off of the anesthesia, she's going to the PACU until she wakes up and then back here", she smiled, "your little boy is in the neonatal unit, do you want to come and meet him?", she asked, Lando letting out a sigh of relief at her words, "I'll let you know when Y/N comes back to the room", she ensured, having been in the job long enough to know the dilemma of wanting to be in two places at the same time.

"Yes, let's go", he said as he straightened up his sweater, "can I hug you?", he allowed himself to feel emotional, Amelia's open arms offering him a little comfort, "they're both alright, Lando, you have such a beautiful family", she cooed.

Walking with him to the neonatal care unit, she helped him into one of the gowns as they greeted the other parents inside along with all of the staff, "this is your little boy", she said, offering him a sanitizer for his hands, "he can't eat on his own just yet, so that single tube on his nose is feeding him, the other one is giving him oxygen, and those stickers are to make sure his heart is doing okay - little milestones and little victories", she explained as Lando took him in.

Surely, he was much smaller than Matilda, but he could already spot some similarities, "Can I touch him?", he asked, weary of disturbing the perfectly architected environment inside the incubator, "yes, of course! Just be mindful of the wires and tubes", she encouraged, opening the little doors so Lando could touch your son.

"Hey, buddy", he spoke as he touched his tiny fingers, "you're already such a fighter, breathing so well without ventilation", he cooed. He looked up all the complications and when he didn't see a mechanical ventilator, he couldn't help but feel proud of the baby, "he is, we did all the tests and for now supplemental oxygen seems to be enough", Dr. Martin said softly, not wanting to spook them as she showed up, "everything went well with Y/N, she should make a full recovery once it heals", she rubbed his back.

"Thank you", he said, keeping the tears at bay as he looked back at Fraser, "you're so tiny they had to roll up your diaper, hm little love?", he spoke, "there are so many people who love you and they have so much of it to give you".

A little while later, Amelia told him they were taking you up to your room, so Lando said goodbye to Fraser, "I'm going to see mummy, Fraser, and I'm going to tell her how much of a higher you are, I love you", he cooed one last time, rubbing his arm before taking his hands away, closing the little doors and folding the gown for later.

Walking into the corridor to your room, Lando could spot you in the other end, smiling as you spotted him too, "nearly beat you in this race", you smiled at him as he gestured for them to wheel you into the room, "everything went as expected, Dr. Martin will be up shortly to speak to you two", one of the interns said.

"How are you feeling, gorgeous?", he said, brushing your hair away from your eyes and behind your ears, "I'm fine, the meds are helping with the pain, I'm sure", you giggled, "they gave me a good dose".

"That's nice, at least", he said, "I've texted everyone to let them know you were okay and everything went well", he added.

"Have you seen him yet?", you asked, "yes, I have", Lando beamed, "He's very tiny and he looks a little bit like Tilly already. And he's such a fighter, too! He only had those little pin-like tubes to help him breathe, they didn't need any incisions or anything. I would've taken a picture but I couldn't take my hands away from him", he admitted.

"Hopefully soon I can see him", you gulped, knowing it would off the books for a bit since you had abdominal surgery.

"All in due course, baby. I'm so happy you're both fine", he kissed your forehead.

.

"I just want to hold my baby!", you hiccuped, wiping the tears falling on your cheeks while Amelia conforted you, "just one more day, Y/N, maybe two at maximum to make sure you're healing well, too", she smiled apologetically.

A knock on the door alerted you as Lando and Matilda walked inside, making you wipe your cheeks quickly, "mummy!", she cheered softly, approaching you and climbing on the bed softly since she knew you were healing, "have you been crying, mummy?", she said, hugging your arm and resting her head there.

"Mummy is upset because I can't go and see Fraser today", you explained as Lando kissed the top of your head.

Amelia excused herself as you caught up with everything back home, "grandpa asked me to give you kisses", Matilda recalled as she kissed your cheeks, "his plane has landed alresdy", Lando added, "That's nice of him, thank you darling".

"We can go and meet Fraser, Tilly", Lando said as the window they allowed visitors in was coming to the half-time mark, "I'm going to give him loads of kisses from you mummy, don't worry about it!", your daughter said sweetly as she climbed off the bed, "I'm going to try and FaceTime, okay?", Lando confirmed, handing you your phone before they left for the neonatal unit.

"Matilda, darling, you have to put this on, okay?", one of the nurses gave her a mask, "she's in nursery and she might have caught some bug that isn't showing symptoms yet and it could be harmful for the babies", he checked with Lando as your husband nodded.

"It's like a costume, Tilly!", Lando tried to make it fun for her, adjusting the gown and then the mask around her face, "you can't go around touching things, okay princess?", he stated as she nodded, ready to meet her little brother.

Lando got himself gowned and led them to Fraser's incubator, "that is Fraser, baby", he cooed, typing on his phone inside the clear bag and FaceTiming you like he promised so you too could see the moment they met for the first time.

"He's so tiny", she gasped, standing on the stepping stool so she could see him properly, "I can't kiss him, can I?", she asked and Lando shook his head, watching you smile on the screen, "I'm going to blow him the kisses I have from mummy then", she said, her hand making the movements from her covered mouth to her brother, "I love you, Fraser, and mummy loves you too, she can't be getting because her tummy still hurts a little", she told him.

"This just makes you want to have another right away, doesn't it?", Lando croaked out as he wiped a tear from his eye, your wide eyes looking at him, "not anywhere in the near future - my body knows that much!", you giggled at the soft sight, "but it is incredibly cute, yes", you smiled as tears fell on your cheeks too.

"Look, mummy! He moved his hand, he's saying hello to you", Matilda smiled, "He's saying he wants to see you, too!".

.

You were finally able to stand up and sit in a wheelchair, so your other goal for the day was going to see your son.

Amelia was the first to say she would take you, helping you sit and getting you there, "That's your little boy right there", she pointed as you were filled with giddiness and excitement.

Wheeling you to face plastic bassinet, your hand went straight inside, "he doesn't need oxygen anymore?", you asked his doctor, noticing the single tube you recognised as a feeding tube, "no, not anymore", he said, "we ran some tests this morning and he's doing just fine on his own, strong set of lungs he has! He woke two of the other babies up yesterday", he smiled.

Chuckling, you touched his arm softly, his hands opening and closing, "do you want to hold him?", he asked, catching you by surprise. Until now, no one ever held him as to make sure the treatments being done were working as best as they could.

"Can I?", you asked, eyes hopeful, "me and the rest of the team think he's finally strong enough to move out of here actually", he added, "not enough to go home just yet, but he can be in your room. This way you can have him close to you and of anything happens or you need help, the staff in your floor know what to do. He just needs to be able to feed without a pump, so either breastfeeding or bottle feeding", he stated.

"Wow, okay, I wasn't expecting this, I was so happy that I got to see him", you teared up, bringing your arms to position so the doctor could place your baby in your arms, mindful of the feeding tube that was still in him, "hey, my love", you cooed, touching his cheeks, "I'm your mummy. I know you were rushed out of my tummy, and it was scary for both of us, but it's looking up now", you cried, Amelia wiping your cheeks as she smiled too.

"Do you mind if we take his tube out now? Might be a little better for this little guy to be in his mummy's chest", the doctor suggested, getting the supplies he needed and setting them in the tray.

"It's okay, little guy", he said as he pulled it out, baby Fraser crying at the discomfort you could only imagine as you rubbed his back, "it's okay, my love, mummy's here to make it better", you shushed him, kissing his head multiple times.

"There, all done!", the doctor said, "if you want, you can feed him here or in your room, where you feel best", he wondered, "could we go to the room, please? I have my supplies there, too", you asked.

You had been pumping milk out since it came in, and you were finally able to feed him straight from your nipple, "okay, little one, you can't get lazy on us now that mummy has you in her room", Amelia encouraged, tapping his cheek slightly as he began suckling on your nipple, "there we go!", she cheered, "I told you it would get better, didn't I?", she winked at you.

When Lando and Matilda came for their daily visit, they didn't expect to see you walking around the room, your back facing the door, "you're up, mummy, that's good!", your daughter said as you turned around, showing her brother on your chest, "oh", she gasped.

"He passed all his tests, and he's getting chubby too", you cooed, squishing his thigh softly as Lando took the sight in, Matilda holding onto you as you patted her head and held your son. Your family was complete.

"That's daddy, Fraser", you cooed, pointing at Lando as your baby boy looked around to the two new people in the room.

"Can I have a cuddle?", Lando whispered before you transferred Fraser to his arms, your little boy curling up against him just like he had been curled up to you.

"Does this mean you get to go home?", Matilda asked, hugging you properly as you sat down on the bed with her, "not for a few days still, they just need to make sure Fraser is alright", you informed, "then we can go home and the four of us are going to have loads of fun", you smiled.

.

"Tilly, can you help me here, please?", Lando called as her footsteps approached your bedroom, "can you get me that bedding from the drawer, please?", Lando asked as he held the mattres up, not wanting to miss the exact placement of the sheet, "thank you, baby, you're such a clever girl", he complimented, folding the corner in and letting the mattress fall back into place.

"When mummy comes home tonight, is Fraser coming with her?", she wondered, touching the next to me bassinet you kept in your room for the baby to sleep in the first few months, "yes, he is, he's finally good and big enough to come home, no more hospital visits", Lando sighed. The last couple of weeks were hard. Juggling things on his own made him even more appreciative of you and the efforts you made to make sure everything was smoothly running in the house, as well of your friends and family who suported your family in every way they could.

"That's going to be nice, the hospital smells funny", she scrunched up her nose, "and it's going to be like before but with baby Fraser?", she wondered.

"At first mummy will need our help in many things - she still has some recovery to do, but then it will be back to normal, yes", Lando offered, "and we'll have Fraser to go with us in our adventures".

"I can't wait to show him my soft blankets and my toys", she beamed, helping Lando with the bed and then getting ready to pick you up from the hospital.

"Thank you again for all of your work and dedication, we truly can't say it enough for all you've done for our family", Lando said to the team as they discharged you from the hospital, waving at Fraser in his carrier as he looked around.

By the time the four of you were back home, you ate dinner on the sofa, Matilda cuddled up to your side while Fraser slept in your chest, Lando holding the four of you in his embrace as much a she could, "we're finally all together", you smiled, "the Norris family is all together in one place we it should be", he said, kissing your lips softly, hand coming to rest on top of yours in Fraser's back as Matilda smiled up at you, "this is the best day ever", she murmured.

Post partum blurb

[peachhcs]

the perfect moment

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

someone requested will and samy's first time, so after trying to write it for nearly a month, it's finished! again, please read at your own risk, this is very explicit!!

3.6k words

warnings: 18+, smut with a tiny bit of plot, but like all of this is smut again. p in v (protected!), slight handjob, hair pulling, sucking on boobs, a bit of praising, very consensual, making out, hickeys, grinding, i think that's it??

this is how i pictured samy and will's first time going! because will's whole life was hockey, he never really had time for a lot of experimenting. there's small talk of religion in this (idk if will was/is actually catholic but somewhere i thought he was. take it all with a grain of salt, this is just how i thought it would go/how will and samy would be :))

au masterlist

one of the last days before summer ended and will couldn't stop thinking about one thing.

will's eyes glued themselves to samy's lips and the way she applied chapstick making her pink lips even more pink and glossier. he couldn't look away even if he wanted to because all he could think about was kissing that chapstick right off and the feeling of her plump lips against his own.

something had the blonde's brain wired up the past couple of days.

he couldn't stop staring. everything samy did, will's eyes were on her. drinking water? staring. playing volleyball? staring. jumping into the lake? oh, will was definitely staring.

he just couldn't tear his eyes away no matter how hard he tried. something was making the blonde's brain go haywire. he'd get worked up over the littlest thing like seeing the brunette in one of his boston college t-shirts and just her swimsuit. one second he'd look and the next he'd be painfully hard.

will felt like a fucking fifteen-year-old again going through the stages of puberty and getting hard at almost everything. he felt pathetic, really—stepping away to relieve the ache in his cock because him and samy have only been dating for two and a half months and the farthest they've gone was making out with shirts off.

he didn't know what too soon was and he did not want to make her uncomfortable with his weird boyish desires that had been creeping up a lot more lately.

so will suffered in silence and it was fine for a few days until him and samy caught themselves in a heated make out session while everyone was outside.

the boy nipped harshly at her lips, tugging her hips impossibly closer against his own. samy giggled—music to will's ears. her own fingers danced around in his hair, twisting it and tugging at the roots leaving the hockey player to see stars.

she shifted against him and will's boner pressed against her thigh. whether she noticed it or not, she didn't say anything. usually, neither of them would mention it when they started making out and they'd ignore it, but this time was different.

"are you always this hard?" samy breathed against will's mouth, pulling apart slightly.

"w-what?" the boy stuttered out earning a smile from the brunette.

"you're really hard," the girl commented making will blush embarrassingly hard—like whole face a tomato in seconds. he immediately shifted away from her, feeling embarrassed about how turned on he was from just kissing for five minutes.

"s-sorry?" he didn't really know what to say, but samy raised her eyebrow.

her boyfriend—a 6'0, forward, hockey player—was sorry that he was hard? she's known will her entire life for having such a hard outer shell—seeing him stand before her bright red and nervous seemed like such a different person than she's known, but samy didn't think it was a bad thing.

"why are you apologizing?" the girl laughed, pressing her hands against his torso.

"i-i don't know. i-i don't wanna make you uncomfortable?" will struggled finding the right words. he had a hard time reading samy's face which was rare considering how close they were.

"do you think i'm uncomfortable?" the girl wondered. will stared at her for a moment before slowly shaking his head.

"no.."

"you're right, i'm not. i think it's hot that you're hard. i mean, i'd be worried if you weren't," she laughed, easing some of the tension in the boy's shoulders.

the girl placed a finger on his chest, slowly dragging it down. she wanted to try something, watching the way a shaky breath escaped will's lips as he struggled to keep his eyes open under her touch.

the once stable boy seemed to crumble in her hands and boy, did that do something to samy's head and ego.

she carefully pushed the blonde back onto her bed where he stared up at her with a look in his eyes that was a mix of confusion and intrigue. a gentle smile spread across samy's lips knowing she wanted will to feel as comfortable as possible because at the end of the day, he was her best friend and the two have known each other since they were babies. this side of their relationship was still so fresh and new.

will's hands found their place on her hips as samy straddled his lap. this wasn't anything new. she was usually on his lap when their kiss became more heated, but right now, the feeling of her thighs pressed against both sides of will's legs did something to him. his hands shook while his heartbeat grew more rapid with each kiss they shared.

"you okay?" samy wondered between kisses. she could feel his rapid heartbeat from where her hands held their place at his neck.

"mhm, yeah," will managed between heavy breaths.

with that, samy continued kissing her boyfriend's lips while her fingers felt his silver chain beneath his shirt. she curled the metal around her one finger, slowly edging it out from under the shirt. the blonde was very aware of her hands on him, her touch like fire on his skin. the metal now dangled above his clothes along with the small cross pendent hanging off the end.

samy's hands dipped further down, attaching to will's neck and dragging back down his torso. a noise sounded from the back of will's throat that was a mix between a moan and whimper as samy's hand got dangerously close to where the boy wanted her touch the most. he's actually thought about this moment for weeks, always imaging it and hoping it'd become a reality.

finally, her hand palmed his bulge through his shorts. will's brain short-circuited, a loud "fuck" escaping his lips and then a "wait. wait."

samy immediately pulled her hand away, eyes jumping back up to her boyfriend's, "what?"

will's mouth worked faster than his brain, cursing to himself for making her stop before he could even think about it. his face flushed while samy searched his gaze worried she did something wrong or moved too fast. what she didn't know was that will wanted her to keep going. he just...how did he tell her this without her most definitely laughing at him?

"i-i've never..i've never done this..before.." the hockey player managed to get out.

a silence fell betweem them as samy took in his words and will quickly started internally panicking.

"oh."

that definitely wasn't the response will expected nor the statement samy expected from her boyfriend.

"oh? good oh? bad oh?" the boy searched her eyes, growing conscious of his revelation. maybe he shouldn't have told her.

"no, no, no. not a bad oh. just..surprising?" samy gently laughed, pulling her fingers through will's hair again. his eyes softened out, turning into puppy-dog eyes.

she did not think will was a virgin. the youngest hughes for sure thought will messed around in his dev years considering all of the girls that were always at the games and the ones his friends constantly talked about. he was a catch, so this news was very surprising to samy.

"oh," will muttered, unsure of how to feel, maybe embarrassed? ashamed?

hockey had always been will's number one. since he could walk, the only thing taking up space in his brain was hockey. hockey, hockey, hockey. girls was never something on the blonde's mind. not nearly as much as the sport he loved. wanting to be the best and prove how good he could be, will devoted all of his time to the ice which meant limiting his social interactions. it had always been that way and for awhile, will didn't mind. he went to an all boys school before moving to michigan, so it wasn't even a problem.

the status of his virginity or experience never mattered with who he was with because the guys were as locked in as he was—maybe not ryan when he started dating julianne, but their minds never wandered off too far. all of that changed when things in will's mind started shifting some years ago, when samy started taking up the spot hockey once did. soon, all his mind could think about was the girl he always saw as an annoying sister.

"hey, hey, don't feel embarrassed. it's normal," samy read the look on her boyfriend's face, quickly making him look at her. will just flushed even more under her stare.

virginity was a concept will heard a lot about growing up catholic. going to a catholic high school taught him a lot about "waiting until marriage" which wasn't something the boy entirely agreed with. his views definitely changed as he got older and thought less and less about his religion. obviously, not completely, though. the silver pendent dangling off his neck was a small reminder keeping him tied in, but that didn't mean he wanted him and samy to stop doing whatever they were about to do.

"h-have you..done this before?" will didn't even know if he wanted to know the answer. a pang of jealousy bubbled in his stomach at the idea of some other guy doing this with samy before he could.

"uh..yeah, but not a lot. like twice or something," samy quickly mumbled.

"oh."

"it was with that guy i dated briefly junior year. it wasn't anything crazy," the girl filled in making sure will knew she was no where near super experienced, but she knew a thing or two.

'"right," the blonde nodded. he remembered that guy a little too well, never really fond of him whenever he was around.

"we don't have to do this if you don't want to," samy said softly, caressing her boyfriend's cheek. he leaned into her touch.

"i want to..i just..i don't really know what to do past making out," will mumbled shyly, avoiding her gaze.

"that's okay. i can help," the girl encouraged with a smile. the hockey player met her eyes seeing how reassuring they looked.

"okay," he mumbled, smiling.

with that, samy attached her lips back to will's lips. the two shared another passionate kiss, the blonde's confidence slowly returning as he worked his tongue into the girl's mouth. she hummed, slowly dragging her hands through his curls before shifting lower again.

will felt drunk on her kisses. he never wanted the feeling of her lips against his to stop. his breath caught in his throat when samy's hand returned to the bulge in his pants.

"do you trust me?" the girl wondered. will nodded.

"gotta say it, will," she urged, needing a vocal confirmation.

"yes, i trust you," he managed through breathy pants.

will felt her grin against his lips as she slowly slipped her hand into his shorts. the boy jumped at the feeling of her warm hand against his clothed cock. "fuck," he let out.

"okay?" samy wondered.

"mhm, okay," the boy said, quickly nodding his head as samy stroked him through his shorts.

will's hips stuttered uncontrollably. his mind was racing along with the dreams he's had of him and samy doing this. her hand fit so perfectly around his length and god, it was so much better than his own hand.

"ugh, f-feels good," the blonde muttered, somewhat nervous still.

"yeah? feels good?" samy smiled, satisfied with the sounds she was pulling from will. he nodded with his head tipping back a little, struggling to keep his eyes open because he wanted to ingrain this moment into his brain forever.

his open neck was the perfect opportunity for the girl to pounce. she hooked her lips onto his throat, quickly sucking which pulled a guttural moan from within the boy. he bit hard on his lip in fear that someone would hear them while samy continued her stroking and nipping his skin. 

from knowing a small thing or two, will decided to try something. he slipped his hand up her shirt until it stopped on her boobs. a small gasp left his lips when he realized samy wasn't wearing a bra under her shirt. 

"okay?" the girl asked sensing his hesitation. 

"y-yes. yeah. you're not wearing a bra," he said a bit bluntly. a tiny chuckle left her lips. 

"is that okay?" 

"more than okay," will breathed. he cupped one breast with his hand, feeling samy's nipple harden under his touch. 

he stated rubbing it in tiny circles—something one of his teammates said girls like and boy, was he right. a soft moan escaped samy's lips which filled the blonde's chest with pride that he did that. 

he decided to keep going by adding a few squeezes on the covered bud. samy squirmed atop his lap which was definitely not helping the arousal in his pants, but will tried ignoring his own needs, wanting to focus all on samy. 

he continued that for another few moments before samy decided they needed their shirts off. she tugged at the bottom of will's and he quickly took the hint as he pulled it over his head. it flew somewhere in her room and his mouth watered a bit in anticipation for samy to lose her shirt. he'd never seen her completely naked on top, only with a bra still on. 

as soon as will saw her bare nipples, he thought he'd cum on the spot. they were so beautiful in a bra, the blonde had no idea they could get even better without a bra. 

"you can touch," samy nodded encouragingly. 

will slowly cupped both hands on her breasts. he squeezed before rubbing both of his thumbs over the buds. another moan left the brunette's lips, her head tipping back. the boy didn't waste a second attaching his lips to her skin like she did minutes ago. 

this wasn't new to will. he was practically a pro at giving hickeys in the most hottest, yet hidden places. samy's arms wrapped around his neck like she wanted him closer so his face was practically in her chest. 

he sucked everywhere across her top half—neck, collarbone, the soft flesh of the tops of her breasts. before will even knew it, her entire nipple slipped into his mouth and made contact with his tongue. 

a louder moan left the girl's lips and will knew he wanted to pull more of those sounds from her. 

"fuck, just like that will," samy moaned out, tugging harshly at the root of his curls. the boy hummed, trying to focus everything on samy and not his desperate need for a release. 

the girl let him go back and forth on each for a few more minutes before pulling him up and reconnecting their lips. will's swollen lips were slick with his saliva all while he tasted samy's signature gloss: strawberry. it made him dizzy in a good way because all he wanted was to kiss all of it off. 

"think you're ready?" samy wondered, not wanting to move too fast. the hockey player quickly nodded feeling the strain in his shorts and the way his hips were just involuntarily grinding against samy's core. 

"so ready." 

with that, she climbed off his lap, instructing him to pull his shorts and underwear down. samy dug through her drawer for a condom, flashing the imfaous rapper before pulling her own shorts down as well. will's entire mouth watered seeing her almost completely naked besides her underwear. 

"you're so gorgeous," the blonde muttered, not even able to tear his eyes away. 

will sat with his cock out where it occasionally twitched against his stomach. the tip was red and definitely ready, although he grew a bit conscious under samy's longing stare. 

did she not like it? was he not big enough? was he too big? 

the worries clouded will's brain until samy climbed back onto her bed, stroking her boyfriend's cheek to bring him back to reality, "remember, you can say no or stop at anytime, okay?" 

"i know," the blonde nodded. 

he watched his girlfriend rip open the rapper with her teeth which was quite literally the hottest thing he's ever seen. she found his gaze, silently asking permission to touch him. 

when he nodded samy's hand slowly wrapped arpund his length. her hand was enough to make him jump, "fuck." 

the precum oozing from the pretty tip was helpful as lube. as samy's thumb rubbed along the slit, will's head tipped back, eyes squeezing shut this time and his hands gripping the bedsheets. 

"so, so pretty, will," the brunette praised earning a large blush on his cheeks. 

"you think so?" he managed to get out through breathy pants. 

"mhmm. you're so big," when he found her gaze again the boy nearly lost it. she looked at him through hooded eyses, a mix of love and lust in her features. 

once will had enough, samy slowly slid the condom down. the plastic material caused a stutter in his hips and a small curse leaving his lips at his girlfriend's gentle touch. she fell back onto the bed, ushering the boy to follow her lead. 

he hovered over her, their breaths mixing together in slightly nervous pants. will's cock throbbed at the feeling of samy's entrance so close, yet he never broke eye contact. "just go slow and not rough," the girl explained. 

"right, of course," will nodded. 

he took ahold of his length, carefully directing it to samy's hole. the boy bit his lip, the anxiety bubbling in his stomach that he wouldn't do it right. the further he pushed his hips forward, the more his tip slid into samy. 

they let out loud moans at the first contact. "oh fuck," the boy moaned out. 

"like that, will. feels good," samy encouraged, gripping onto his biceps. 

he pushed himself further in, resisting every urge to thrust in, but his self-control was slipping fast. finally, he bottomed out. a mix between a sigh and groan escaped both of their lips. samy wrapped her legs around will's while they took a second to adjust. 

god, he felt even better inside of her. will thought the same as samy's walls squeezed every inch of his length along with his need to cum already. 

"whenever your ready," samy rubbed his back in soothing circles. 

"yeah, in a second. fuck, you feel so good," the boy muttered out. a thin line of sweat glistened across his forehead and at every inch where they were connected and touching. 

everything was so overwhelming for the hockey player. samy's boobs pressed against his chest, her legs wrapped around his, her squeezing him like her life depended on it. 

finally, will found it in himself to slowly start moving. he carefully raised his hips until just the tip was inside before pushing back in. 

"yeah, shit. so good," samy's praises fueled will's confidence as he picked up his pace little by little. 

"mm, fuck. you feel incredible. you're so beautiful," will rambled through his immense pleasure. 

he found a good speed while samy tried meeting his thrusts as well. the room filled with sounds of their sex and fuck, did they really hope no one walked by her room. 

will definitely wasn't going to last long. samy knew that based on how sensitive he was and the way his cock throbbed inside of her every time she squeezed a bit harder. the boy hid his face in the crook of her neck as his panting increased and incoherent thoughts tumbled from his lips. 

"oh fuck. fuck. yeah, mm—not gonna last," he managed through broken pants. 

"it's okay, you can cum," samy squeezed his shoulders. 

"want you to cum too," will had enough mind and knowledge to know that samy needed pleasure and a release too. 

he stuck his one hand between them, remembering from another teammate where the clit was. his fingers quickly rubbed it in fast circles wanting samy to release before he did despite his stittering hips and need to cum so close. 

samy's own hips stuttered at will's touch. she bit hard on his shoulder, trying to keep quiet as her climax approached. the pleasure overtook the pain, so will hardly felt a thing. 

"yeah, fuck. right there. keep going. don't stop." 

"god, i'm so fucking close. gonna make me cum. please tell me you're close," will urged, not sure how much longer he could hold back his load. 

"so close, will. keep going, please," the brunette nodded, voice high-pitched and squeaky. 

the dam broke. samy's climax hit her hard, her back arching off the bed further into will's chest. he wasn't far behind, spilling into the condom with the uncontrollale thrust of his hips and the string of curse words leaving his lips. 

"oh god, fuck. oh fuck," will collapsed, sweaty and spent. 

his hips continued in little stutters with a bit of aftershock. samy wrapped her arms tightly around his shoulders as his face hid in her neck trying to regain his lost breath. 

"did so, so good will. so good," the girl praised, kissing the side of his head. 

"best first time ever," the blonde sighed. 

he finally lifted his head to meet her gaze. his curls stuck to his sweaty forehead, but the smile never left his lips. samy just giggled, "glad you think so." 

will slowly pulled out, groaning at the feeling of his cock slipping out. he pulled the condom off, placing it in the trash before laying back down and scooping samy into his arms. 

"not so bad, right?" the brunette raised her eyebrow. 

"with you, it was perfect," his words made her flush. gentle kisses were placed against her skin trying to savor everything from the best moment ever.