#definitely a few things could’ve been more fucked up but i think they did well anyway

[teabookgremlin]

hello lesbians and also others who follow me. you all know what fucking time it is lets fucking do a yellowjackets 02x06 recap

- first of all taivan in the sex ed scene hehe my girlies more pre crash moments of them PLEASE, i’d love a flashback to like their friendship/start of relationship

- lottie being horrified at misty showing up at the cult so real. imagine you’re just trying to vibe w/ your homoerotic friend then said friend’s other homoerotic friend shows up? a rough day

- “it honestly would’ve been better if she just had sex with him” SHAUNA MY BITCH WORST MOTHER OF THE YEAR

- mari saying she hopes shauna doesn’t die top five things not to say when your friend is about to give birth with no medical care in the middle of fucking no where

- nat was wounding me this episode, she has so much guilt and hates herself for having survived its just awful

- van rightly pissed about tai’s sleepwalking (especially kiss). she clearly does not want to be dragged into this and honestly valid but bc she’s van she’s gonna let herself be dragged in

- “you’re married taissa there’s no us anymore” everything van says to tai just leads me to want to know more about how their relationship ended bc clearly she’s not happy that it did

- misty being unable to focus on the birth bc of crystal was so sad, the bit where she saw the blood on her hands that was intercut with crystal’s death was great very nice scene

- lottie’s psychiatrist is so sketchy. like the encouragement of the visions is so bizarre and just bad vibes

- thinking that “it” influenced travis, nat, and misty to return to lottie’s life

- “it was part of us” “the god of that place, we did terrible things in it’s name” WHAT DID THEY FUCKING DO also furthering my agenda that the antler queen is it’s own spirit/entity rather than one of the girls

- tai trying to flirt with van BITCH YOUR WIFE IS IN THE HOSPITAL YOUR KID IS GOD KNOWS WHERE

- TAI PUTTING THE DEER BONE NECKLACE IN SHAUNA’S HAND YEAH THAT’S THE GOOD STUFF like it saved van maybe it will save shauna and i mean hey she didn’t die so

- jackie’s voice, i knew she’d have some sort of presence during birth and definitely liked this especially given it was in the dream

- “yeah the past where we thought being happy was something that was possible not what happened” OW?????

- van having given up on love </3 her relationship with tai really did a number on her huh. representation for the girlies that never get over anything ever

- lisa giving nat the fish and that whole conversation was so good their friendship is important to me

- jeff just fucking jamming to “fuck the police” was hilarious. yes they need to tune down the jeff this season but i did enjoy this bit

- this is not plot related but honestly so glad the baby did not survive bc those few minutes of baby crying were making me insane i cannot handle the sound of babies crying (one of many reasons i will never have children lol)

- loved loved loved shauna’s monologue to creepy cop man, just saying out loud that literally her whole life is how it is because of guilt just UGH melanie did amazingly (as always)

- dream lottie being weird with the baby so fun so good “we need to feed” —> “he needs to feed”

- callie continuing to be so proud of herself about lying to the cops this is her season for real

- i should’ve known the baby was doomed the second it started to nurse like that and shauna being so loving to it were my real red flags that something was weird

- “if you see any barrels of kool aid powder in there consider me on call for an extraction” van i love you. also her being like lets leave and just go to ihop or something

- misty asking if taivan is back together she’s so real for that

- the moment of van seeing lottie and lottie seeing that they’re all there ugh i cannot wait to see the interactions between them all next week

- OK dream baby eating time: my favorite part was nat, the way she was wiping the blood from her mouth when she saw shauna, the guilt in her eyes, just perfect. also ben being the only other one who looked fully human/guilty in the scene. and then the rest of them being so animalistic i just loved it. bummed we didn’t get real baby eating but this is a good compromise i think

- shauna saying “why can’t you hear him crying” was so fucking heartbreaking sophie nelisse needs all the awards. i did not think i would be satisfied with the baby being stillborn but i loved the way they did it. i do hope that next episode we do see the body, specifically for one reason and that is i want shauna to keep seeing jackie in the baby. like she looks at it once and sees jackie’s eyes, next look it has her nose, etc. maybe even give it some sort of animal features at some point. i just want her to not be able to look at the corpse and see a baby. i want her to look at it and see jackie and her own guilt. next week’s episode is called “burial” so i’m assuming they will be disposing of the body and i want shauna to look at it as it’s being dispose of and just see jackie laying there instead. do you see my vision? i think it would be very fun. either that or they actually eat the baby. also we better get some placenta eating next episode bc not eating it would be a huge waste

[catboyieejeno]

gameboy :: p.js — one

genre: gamer! jisung x gamer! reader, college au cw: female reader, fwb to lovers, explicit smut, pervy jisung, male masturbation, oral (m and f receiving), unprotected sex, inexperienced jisung, cum play/breeding kink, pet names, slight humiliation kink, size kink, creampie, probably more wc: 18.257k

[one] [two]

18+ minors do not interact!

The red letters that flash across your screen read ‘Defeat’, illuminating your dimly lit room with a shy, red hue. The instant the word appears on your monitor, a voice blasts through your headset, erupting in emphatic complaints and protests. You can hear the clatter of a keyboard and mouse being shoved around on the other end of the receiver, and it takes everything in you to stifle your laugh. 

“We definitely could’ve won that!” the boy scoffs, “I swear, sometimes it feels like you and I are the only people with any fucking game sense.” 

“Wow, thanks for the validation,” you joke, instinctively queuing up for another match. Your eyes trail up to the little icon in the corner of the screen that glows green every time he speaks.

“You know what I mean,” he grumbles, and you imagine he must not look all that different from the little crying cat picture he set as his discord icon. The thought makes you snort, but he ignores you, stating, “I think this is my last game,” 

You nod even though you know he can’t see you, “same, I have class tomorrow,”

“First day of the semester for you, too?”  

You nod again. “Unfortunately. My days of gaming until four and sleeping until noon have come to an end.” 

He laughs, leaning forward in his chair as he realizes something, “You know, I never asked what you’re studying,” 

“Oh,” you blink, “Well, the first class I have tomorrow is just a random credit I needed, but I’m actually majoring in-” 

It takes less than a few seconds for your words to drown out into a muffled buzz, and the only thing Jisung can focus on now is the silky, smooth sound of your voice. 

He would never admit it, at least not out loud, but your voice makes his heart beat just a little faster. The way each and every word rolls off your tongue makes his breath hitch, imagination running wild at the thought of what your lips look like when they mold to form each syllable and sound. 

Every night like clockwork, Jisung finds himself rocking side to side in his desk chair, eyes hanging low and round lips curved up into a smile as he listens to you speak.

It’s so easy to talk to him, too. By now, you’ve lost count of how many nights the two of you rambled off in voice chats, watching shows or playing video games or simply oversharing the details of your lives. It’s only been a few months since you met in a game chat, on that night where he practically harassed you for your discord after you carried him up a rank in-game. You’re secretly grateful he did, though you wouldn’t let him know that; the two of you effortlessly became part of each other’s daily routine, and now, calls with you are his favorite way to end the night. Tonight is no exception.

Jisung begins to mindlessly swing in his chair as usual. He’s humming passively between your small pauses to encourage you to keep going as his hands automatically start caressing his torso. It’s a somewhat innocent gesture, or at least it starts out that way: his palms sliding across the ridges of his abdomen as he listens to your voice. It’s better than music to his ears, and it urges his long fingers to dance closer and closer to his waistband.

“–and I thought about changing it, but I think with an degree in Lit, I could probably get a career in–”

Lost in your voice, Jisung slips his hands into his shorts, holding his balls as he fully zones out of the conversation. He knows you’re saying words and forming actual sentences, but his social awareness has dwindled completely and he absolutely can’t seem to get past how sweet you sound, and how much sweeter you would sound under… different circumstances. He moves up to hold his dick gently and furrows his brows. Almost accidentally, his thumb brushes along the underside of his tip, teeth clamping the inside of his cheek and gnawing on it to ground himself. Just as eager as its owner, Jisung’s dick jolts in his palm, progressively swelling up until it’s flushing bright pink. 

“You’re into English?” He manages to stop daydreaming and hone into the conversation for a fleeting moment, just long enough to ask you that simple question and keep your attention off of his rapidly shifting breath.

He’s blatantly playing with himself now, ever so distractedly. It’s an autonomous act: the way the pad of his middle finger trails over his slit to collect a bit of the pre-cum that has begun to dribble out in pearly beads. He hisses, then quickly snaps his mouth shut in hopes that you hadn’t heard him. 

“Yeah,” he can hear your smile in your words, “I think I always have been. I used to read all the time and—I swear, if you say I’m boring, I’ll personally come over and choke you–” 

As he acknowledges reality for a quick moment, his pace falters. His brows pinch, and he feels confused as he realizes he can’t stop or even moderate his actions, despite the shame slowly beginning to wash over him. The more you talk, the harder he grows. His grip is getting tighter, his strokes needier… he must be losing his mind. With a gulp, he thinks to himself, what would you do if you could see him touching himself like this to you? Would you think it’s sick and twisted or would you offer to help him out? His head begins to throb as the room spins around him, but he really can’t seem to slow his motions. By now, he’s bucking his hips up and into his hand while the other covers his mouth, silencing the whines that threaten to leave his throat. He’s breathing heavily, praying to god you don’t somehow notice his perverted actions. Despite knowing that he isn’t thinking straight, Jisung can’t help the thoughts that continue to fog his mind, rampant and obscene. 

Could you hear the squelching of his hand pumping his cock, covered in his pre-release? Or the way he’s practically panting, reduced to nothing at the mere sound of your voice? He’s not sure whether or not his mic would even pick that up, but even so, the corner of his lips curl into a lazy smile as his mind continues down his twisted rabbit hole. 

In spite of not knowing what you look like, there’s no denying that he wants to give you all of him. He wants to feel himself buried deep inside your throat, your pretty voice vibrating around him as you choke on his length. He feels himself twitch in his palm and he subconsciously nods, picturing it's your walls around him instead of his own inadequate hand. Jisung huffs out once, fucking his fist wildly, picturing how much he’d like to feel himself bust inside of your warm, tight pus-

“Sung? Sung!”

“Huh? W-what?” As he yanks his hand from his shorts, the waistband snaps against his skin and he yelps out at the impact, “Sorry! I promise I was listening, it-its just, I got a little caught up with–” words are tumbling out of his mouth, before he can catch up to them.   

“It’s fine, it’s fine! Hurry, just pick your agent before the match gets–” but the timer runs out, and the lobby screen appears once more as you sigh, “–canceled...” 

Jisung glances down at his hand, separating his fingers and watching how the sticky pre-cum leaves webbed strings between each of his parted digits. His stomach is also wet, and the tent in his pants is growing increasingly painful with each passing second. 

“What were you fantasizing about, huh?” Oh, fuck. The teasing edge in your words makes his nerves tingle, and he throws his head back as you hum into your mic, “Hmm. Well, I guess it was more interesting than what I was saying. Can’t blame you though, the topic of school is boring me too, and the semester hasn’t even started yet. Also, that can’t count as your last game. I literally won’t allow it.” 

You queue up for another game and Jisung sighs, watching the timer on the screen tick away. The picture changes, and the two of you are prompted to start a game. A few kleenex wipes collect the mess on his hand and torso, and he settles back in his chair after tossing them, deciding his neediness will have to wait for now.

Bidding you good night is harder than usual tonight, but he knows you need to get to sleep—you mentioned you had an early class and he had his own, so his selfish urge to keep you talking until he came in his hand would, unfortunately, need to take a raincheck.

After logging off of his computer, Jisung drops his head into his hands with a sigh.

What the fuck even was that? 

A mix of shame and arousal take over him as his cheeks begin glowing a deep shade of red. He lets out a small scoff, shaking his head to himself as he gets up from his chair. His dick is still as hard as a rock, and he can’t help but feel flustered at the fact that he has, quite literally, blue-balled himself. 

With a towel swung over his shoulder and a clean pair of sleeping shorts clutched in his fist, Jisung walks up to the dorm’s nearest communal bathroom. He turns on the faucet, freeing himself of his clothes. The moment his boxers come down past his thighs, his length slaps against the skin below his navel, making him hiss out as he steps into the shower. The cold water, running down against his heated body, seems to be doing the trick of clearing his mind, that is, until his hands find their way to his stomach, rubbing the soap over it.

It’s so hard to expel the thoughts of you when they’re so intrusive and tempting, and Jisung lets his mind drift off once more, imagining how it would feel to be touched by you, sucked by you. All the soft noises you would make are weirdly familiar; he can practically hear them. His head falls back, lips caught between his teeth as he twitches and gives himself an experimental stroke, shuddering as his thumb glides across the slit of his sensitive tip. He clenches his eyes shut tighter, letting out a shaky sigh and letting the water continue to trickle down his body. He doesn’t know what you look like, other than your hair color which you mentioned the other day. Despite that, he still tries desperately to piece an image of you together behind his eyelids, picturing what your lips are like. And just like that, thoughts of you flood him, and he shudders at the vision of you on your knees, looking up at him with big, innocent eyes, begging to taste him and take all of him. He longs to feel you swallow around him—to grab either side of your face and thrust into your needy mouth until the tears slip from your eyes and your pussy is dripping from the need to be fucked.  

Getting lost in the moment, he doesn’t even realize how loud he’s becoming and how fast his fist is working his dick. Jisung's highly anticipated release is only seconds away when a loud knock startles him, lunging him right back into his body.

“Yo, man! How long are you gonna take in there?” His friend and next door neighbor, Mark, shouts from the other side of the door, knocking again and ruining Jisung’s fantasy once and for all. 

The boy takes a moment to clear his throat and swallow, not trusting his voice to not crack otherwise, “Uh.. Sorry. I’ll just be a minute.” 

It takes everything in him to slow his hand to a stop and pry it off of his shaft, deciding that perhaps, he shouldn’t entertain his filthy thoughts any longer. He quickly finishes showering with another unnecessary interruption from Mark, then drags himself back to his room and gets into his bed, forcing his eyes shut in an attempt to sleep. The longer he lies there, however, the more restless he grows. 

His dick feels sore to the touch and it’s driving him absolutely crazy. Every time he adjusts his shorts or moves his legs, his balls throb from how full they are. Knowing he has class to get to the following day, he tries to convince himself that maybe he needs a release to get to sleep. It’ll tire him out, and then finally, he’ll be able to get some rest…There’s at least a bit of logic to that theory, or that’s what he tells himself, anyway. 

Against his better judgment that pleads with him to just shut his eyes and count sheep, Jisung huffs out and slips his hands into his shorts to begin touching himself for the nth time tonight. This whole time, he had been unknowingly edging himself and now he’s so, so undeniably and incredibly desperate to cum that it literally hurts. 

His free hand brings his phone up and unlocks it, thumb swiping quickly in search of the discord app where your contact resides, the little green bubble next to it signifying that you’re still online. He hovers over the call button, taunting himself with the idea of making a call to you at this time. One little click, and he’d hear your voice again. Just one click and he-

sung ᨐฅ started a call. Today at 11:54 AM

Shit, shit, shit. 

He rushes to hang up, but you’ve answered no more than a ring later. 

“Hello?” 

Jisung holds his rather unsteady breath, staring wide-eyed at his phone. His dick pulses in his palm that now rests still. 

“Sung?” 

As gently as possible, he lays the phone down on his puffed up chest, letting out his breath slowly so that you don’t hear him.

“I’m gonna assume you called me by accident… ” you sigh out in disappointment, growing quiet in uncertainty. For a second, Jisung is convinced you’re gonna hang up, but when you stay on the line, he peers down at the screen curiously. 

Your icon lights up green and there’s some shuffling on your end, presumably from you getting comfortable in bed. 

He hears you yawn and smiles fondly. 

“I’m tired,” you mumble, “are you asleep? I was actually excited that you called. Maybe it’s my fucked up schedule… or, maybe I’m just dreading tomorrow, but I couldn’t sleep. I don’t know…” 

You’re speaking slower and quieter than usual, but you’re speaking, completely oblivious of the fact that he’s thinking of the dirtiest things that involve you, getting off while you think he’s sound asleep. 

“It’s always easier to sleep once we’ve talked so,” you pause, then sigh out jokingly, “I guess I'll just talk your unconscious ear off until I fall asleep…You don’t mind, right?”

God, no, he thinks.  

Jisung silently celebrates your decision with a pump of his hand, shuffling a bit to get comfortable as you go on about genshin and cats and other things he can barely pay mind to. It takes no more than a few strokes, shallow ones where he caresses the angry head of his dick to the velvety sound of your slurred and drowsy mumbling, for him to bring himself to come so fucking hard. 

His knees lock as his cock springs up in his clutched palm, spewing streams of white cum all over his stomach, chest, and thighs. The muscles on his abdomen ache from the way they contract, eyes and jaw shutting tightly as he challenges himself to remain quiet. The sheets aren’t spared from his thick load either, his nut dripping down the sides of his tummy to make dark, round puddles on his bed. His toes curl as he tries his hardest to not gasp out when the pleasure dissolves into sensitivity, digging his head back into the pillow with a hand clasped over his lips. 

A few minutes later, the blurriness in his vision is relieved, along with the ringing in his ears. You’ve stopped talking; instead, the receiver picks up your short and shallow breaths, as if you’ve fallen asleep with your mouth open. Cute.  

As he assesses the aftermath of his much needed release, he wishes he could snap a picture and send it to you, so that you’d wake up knowing this pathetic mess he made was all for you, because of you.

Alas, he can’t, and he hangs up once he’s completely sure you’re resting. With his eyelids feeling much heavier than before, he manages to toss his phone onto the nightstand before he, too, drifts off to sleep.

•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ

The following morning, Jisung wakes up in a bit of a panic. The first thing that throws him for a loop is the fact that his alarm didn’t go off at all. He quickly realizes he forgot to set it amidst the activities of the night before. The second thing that strikes him is his own hand that rests on his stomach, stuck in some kind of damp, sticky liquid. In his half-conscious state, he lifts his fingers and his puffy eyes widen as he identifies the clear fluid that decorates his tummy as his drying release from the night before. 

“Ugh…” He grimaces, sitting up in his bed. His phone, which is less than half full of battery since he forgot to plug it in, blinks back the numbers 8:38 at him. Jisung’s eyes widen as he remembers that his first class of the day, of the semester, is at 9. 

“Fuck!” In a flash, his blanket is flung off of him and his legs are swinging over the edge of the bed. He moves to grab some tissues from his nightstand, making aggressively desperate attempts at wiping away his cum. When the Kleenex sticks to him instead, he digs around his drawers for a pack of wet wipes, snatching a pair of pants off of the floor at the same time and practically yanking them up his legs. 

Despite almost falling over, he manages to get them on and clean off his torso… for the most part. A random sweatshirt is tugged on over his head and he runs his hand through his hair a few times to tidy it before passively telling his reflection, this will do. 

Moments later, he’s rushing downstairs and outside of the dormitory with his unzipped backpack hung over his shoulder. He rushes to unlock his bike, cursing as he fumbles with the keys. Once he’s on, he starts pedaling to the Science building on the other side of campus, heavily dreading checking the time in fear it’ll read some absurd number and he’ll wind up being much later than he anticipates.

The breath that’s been caught in his throat all morning is only released when he steps through the door of the lecture room to see that the professor hasn’t walked in yet, and that the clock reads that he’s 6 minutes early.

Finally slowing his rushed pace, Jisung does a quick once over the room to scan the faces of his fellow students before taking his seat somewhere near the back. Thanking the heavens that his notebook and textbook didn’t go tumbling out of his bag in the midst of his previous hurry, he tugs them out, flipping them open and writing the date on the first page. His laptop, which is where he had planned to take notes on, sits in his dorm room where he left it on his desk. Everyone else has theirs out, but he’ll just have to bring his own next time. 

There’s a distant click, and the door on the lowest level of the lecture hall opens. Through it walks a relatively tall and slender lady, heels echoing rhythmically as she strides over to set her dark bag down by the podium. Her hair is tied back high and tight, so much so, that all of her features look like they're blending into her hairline. She looks like she’s somewhere in her mid-to-late fifties, and from the instant she walked in, the entire class went silent.

She clearly has a presence that commands attention and undoubtedly, she fits the visual profile of a strict college professor quite well, especially when she picks up the chalk and scribbles her surname onto the green chalkboard beside the larger projector screen.

“I’m Professor Hwang. Welcome to AST1002, also known as Descriptive Astronomy. If you’re here, that means you took AST1001 with Mr. Kwon last year. He has since transferred to a different department.” 

There’s no audible response, although some disappointment does flash across the faces of the students in the room, all of whom did have (and seemingly would miss) Mr. Kwon. Professor Hwang doesn’t seem to notice the lack of responses, and continues speaking as she pulls some papers out.

“Firstly, I’ll take attendance. Then, I’ll pass the syllabus around. I would like for you to note,” she pauses to place a pair of red glasses high on the bridge of her nose, “that attendance is mandatory for my class, and worth 20% of your grade. I’ll go over pop quizzes and weekly quizzes, as well as the initial class project, when each of you have a copy of the syllabus. That being said, I look forward to seeing you all here every class. Please call out when you hear your name.” 

As she starts to take attendance, Jisung takes the time to sigh into his hands, both exhausted and dreading the fact that he’d have to spend three days out of the week rotting in a lecture hall to attend a class he expected to be fun, or at the very least a break from his much more difficult core classes. By the looks of it, that’s no longer the plan. 

It’s easy to zone out quickly while his mind is still foggy, no doubt from the lack of sleep and the subsequent abrupt awakening that followed. He had just begun an attempt to read the syllabus when something made his ears perk. 

Immediately, his head snaps up in pursuit of a soft and airy voice that just responded to Professor Hwang. It’s so quick and in passing that he almost thinks he might have imagined it in his delirious state, but the way the hair on his limbs stands on end is unmistakable. His eyes dart around the room, hitting his classmate’s heads like targets, but there’s absolutely no way to identify the individual who just spoke. 

Could it be… No. No way. 

Jisung is no stranger to daydreaming about you, but he isn’t completely delusional. He knows the chances of being not only in the same city, but the same university and class as you are absolutely slim to none, so he stops that train of thought dead in its tracks. 

It does segway him into thinking of you, though. You’re obviously not here, so he wonders instead what class you are in at the moment. He tries to picture what you’re wearing on your first day of class, trusting you look more put together than him in his old hoodie that is slightly sticking to the dry cum on his stomach. Do you like your classmates? Your professor? He sincerely hopes you have a more tolerable one than he does. 

“Park Jisung?” 

With a slight cough, he spits out a weak “h-here.” and instantly grimaces, raising his shoulders autonomously as if he would get scolded for stammering so pathetically. The professor, to his relief, doesn’t even glance up from the roster. Then, he feels quite silly for even thinking he would get reproached for that to begin with. In his defense, she’s a rather intimidating woman, and his inner monologue is so loud and flooded with thoughts of you that he fears she may have heard it. 

She finishes calling for attendance, resorting to striding up and down the aisles as she begins to dissect the syllabus. In an effort to pretend he’s paying attention, Jisung glances down at the size twelve font on the page, skimming over the words without really taking anything in. During one of the professor’s paces, a pen she had resting on her ear slips and falls towards the ground with a slight clatter, and it seems a student picked it up for her, because there’s a slight mumbling, followed by a sharp “thank you,” and a very, very recognizable,

“You’re welcome, Professor.” 

His eyes widen at once. Alright, call him crazy, but now he thinks that it really might have been your voice. The familiar timbre, warm and delicate; a sound he’s heard for months on end and knows embarrassingly well… The thought of being in the same room as you out of sheer luck and coincidence makes his abdomen twist and his palms sweat so bad, he has to wipe them on his pants.

He hates that he can’t fully tell, in fact, he’s almost ashamed that he can’t; before today, Jisung would have sworn up and down that he knew your voice better than even his own, but you sound so far and so quiet that he can’t completely bet all of his marbles. Then, he quickly realizes calling it ‘your voice’ definitely makes him sound delusional, even in the safety of his own forgiving conscience. He decides to call it ‘the voice’ for now, at least until he’s a hundred-percent sure. 

An irritatingly long hour and half later, the only sound that continues to ring around the lecture hall is Professor Hwang’s monotone one, reciting each and every itemized assignment and rule on the never-ending syllabus. There’s less than fifteen minutes until class is over, and she shows no signs of stopping her dissertation. 

“As for the class project: In pairs of two, you will research a constellation extensively to create a presentation on its formation, who cataloged it, and the Greek myth that may accompany it. Please note that this is the first and last time we will talk about constellations in this class, since they are not cosmic phenomenons but instead, a mere roadmap to the objects and themes we will be focusing on. Consider this strictly as an opportunity to familiarize yourselves with another classmate and show me your interest and effort in the subject. That concludes our syllabus,” Thank God, Jisung thinks. 

 “Any questions?” She glances around at a hand that floats in the air, near the front of the room, “yes?” 

“Will we be able to select our partners?” 

“No. Partners will be assigned at the end of the week. Yes?” She calls on another hand. 

“As for the constellations,” Wait, that’s it! That’s the voice—that’s your voice, he’s completely sure of it!  “Will you assign those as well?” 

Jisung elongates his neck to try and peek over the heads in his way. It is you, he’s positive now, but you’re turned away from him, and he can’t fully make out which ‘back of the head’ is your ‘back of the head.’ The echo in the hall makes it nearly impossible to pinpoint who just spoke which means he can’t pinpoint you. For some reason, he finds himself slightly panicking, desperate to finally see you in person.

He follows Professor Hwang's line of sight as she answers that she’ll assign the constellations on Friday too, and finally finds you, seated between a few other students. A few more questions are thrown around, but his eyes never leave you, anticipating the moment he catches a glimpse of your face. 

Naturally, his first instinct is to approach you as soon as class is out, but when he sees you spin around to pick up your bag that hangs off your chair, he finds himself glued to his own flimsy seat. Feet stuck to the ground, legs not budging, and air hitched in his throat at the sight of you. 

You’re so, so much prettier than he could have imagined with whatever unoriginal features he tried to piece together in his lacking mind, and that fact makes him both exhilarated and completely nauseous. 

He’s barely been looking at you for a few seconds when he feels his insatiable cock growing fast in the confines of his pants, with no regard for its owner and the fact that he has to stand up within the next minute or so to exit the hall. Jisung curses under his breath, awkwardly rising to his feet when most of his classmates leave, his bag clutched tightly in front of his groin. He prays you don’t glance over, not even because he has a semi-hard on he’s failing to hide with dissimulation, but because he’s staring at you like some sort of freak and can’t seem to look away. 

There’s nothing he wants more than to come up to you and say hi and confess he’s the person you’ve been gaming with for months. He’s pictured it countless times before, you’d think he’d have it down by now, but your beauty is intimidating, and he simply cannot and will not make a fool of himself in front of you by greeting you with a raging boner. 

You walk out of the classroom and Jisung’s heart settles in his chest as he sits with his decision to stay anonymous for now. 

•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ

“She was obnoxious, you have no idea!” 

“My teacher wasn’t much different,” he admits, a small, knowing smile toying at his lips, “she seemed like a real bitch,” 

It’s later that same evening, and talking to you doesn’t really feel the same anymore. It’s much harder, because now, Jisung can vividly picture you, sitting in your chair with your hands on your keyboard and mouse. Every word you say, his imagination is right thereafter, picturing your pretty face clear as day in the forefront of his mind. 

The moment he got home, he fucked his fist until he came in his hand. It took about five minutes, and then he pumped another one out in the shower, (a much needed shower, at that) where he finally washed away the remains of the night before. 

After he had lunch with Mark and the other boys from his floor, they had invited him to play basketball. At the same time, however, he received a direct message from you, explaining you didn’t have any other classes for the day and asking if he could get on earlier. 

It’s a little ridiculous, but now that he’s seen you, now that he knows you’re so much closer than he initially thought, he can’t wait to talk to you again. And so he quickly came up with an empty excuse related to his studies, took the berating from his friends like a champ, and rushed upstairs to log into his PC and open up your chat. 

“Not only do we already have a project, but we don’t even get to pick our partners.” 

I know! He thinks. 

“Like,” you start, and he pictures the way your cheeks fill up with air as you let out a huff, “what if I get stuck with some weirdo?” 

Instantly, Jisung stops palming himself, letting his hand climb back up to the mouse slowly.

He probably shouldn’t let that innocent statement affect him as much as it does, but he can’t help it. He has the advantage, right? Or, at least it seems that way. 

When everything is laid out, he has the upperhand of knowing who you are—you haven’t seen him, yet… but what if you did see him, and he wasn’t at all what you were expecting? Or even worse, what if you got paired together for the project and you thought he was weird or the two of you didn’t get along? That option is far less likely, since there are well over fifty students in AST1002. 

“I don’t know,” you start, “I’m considering switching out of the class-” 

“No!” Wow. Good going, Jisung.

He catches his slip-up and quickly blurts out, “I-I mean, it might not be that bad! You should… at least give it a shot before you try to switch out, right?” 

“I guess you’re right… The add and drop period at my school is until next Friday, so I'll try it out until then.” 

Great! Perfect! Good save. The only problem now is: Jisung has a little over a week and a half to somehow convince you to stay in his class and at the same time, not completely butcher his introduction to you. Approaching you now seems practically impossible, but he needs you to stay in the class, even if it means he has to come up to you first. He can’t be bothered to care that his insistence is for his own selfish intentions, if it means getting to see you three times a week. 

“But anyway,” he clears his throat, changing the topic as quickly as possible, “how did your other class go?” 

“Much better than the first, the teacher let us out early once he covered the books we’d be analyzing this semester and attendance isn’t mandatory since most of the material is online or in the library. I think I’ll swing by there one of these days to see if I can get ahead on some of the assignments.” 

“Oh, so you’re a nerd?” You gasp and smack his character in-game a few times. He laughs, calling out, “okay, okay, truce! You’re not a nerd then, just an overachiever.”

“How so?” 

“We’re barely a day into the semester and you’re already trying your homework that I’m sure isn’t due for at least a few weeks,” 

You roll your eyes, knowing he’s right. With a bit of playful flirtation twisted into your tone, you hum out, “What can I say? I like to please.” 

One of his eyebrows perks up, “is that right?” 

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” He can hear your smirk through the screen, and now, he can vividly picture it, too. 

Jisung scoffs, backing away from your character so that he’s out of your sight. He cowers into a corner in game;  this way, you don’t notice how he stops moving when his left hand leaves the w,a,s,d keys to cup and rub his needy bulge. 

•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ

Wednesday’s class is somehow packed and entirely uneventful at the same time. The first of Professor Hwang’s dragging lectures is so loaded that Jisung actually thanks the heavens that he remembered to bring his laptop. Otherwise, his notebook would have been about halfway full already, and his hand? It would have fallen off. 

On another relevant note, he’s struggling to stay focused because today, he is sitting much closer to you. Intentionally, of course. There’s still a few rows between him and you, but in this new seat, he can glance at you as often as he’d like without straining his eyes or stretching out his neck to make his gawking painfully obvious. He can clearly make out your smooth skin, along with other details he wasn’t able to notice before like your beauty marks and your dainty earrings. You’re paying unfaltering attention to the class for the first hour, but after the sixty-minute mark, you appear to have become bored. He catches the way your pencil starts doodling along the corners of your notebook and it takes everything in him not to snort when you scribble down a wonky looking cat. 

He’s so distracted by you, that every couple of slides, he glances back to the projector to see that the class is now on an entirely different topic than the one he last managed to jot down. He doesn’t mind, though. You’re a much more enthralling sight than quasars and supernovas. 

Halfway through the lesson, you decide to peel off your little black cardigan and hang it on the back of your chair, exposing your arms and neck and shoulders to him. Your hair is tied up neatly right after, giving him all the more to gawk at and envision. Jisung has to remind himself that he’s in a classroom just so that he doesn’t start fantasizing about how it would feel to grip your hair up in a similar fashion and fill your throat up with his dick.

With great difficulty, he directs his focus to the board instead, typing quickly into his laptop all the notes he manages to catch before the slide changes again and Professor Hwang’s narrow eyes can scan the room to see who’s paying attention. 

When the class is over, you start talking with the girl next to you, aimlessly reaching back for your bag. The gesture makes your cardigan fall, and Jisung has to fully bite his tongue to keep himself from calling out your name and giving himself away. He waits to see if you’ll notice, or if someone nearby will alert you, but neither one happens. Instead, you stand up, still engrossed in your conversation, and make your way towards the door. Instantly, he jogs down the aisle and between the seats to grab it and wordlessly hand it to you, but by the time he makes a move to head in your direction, you’ve already left. 

He feels disappointed at first, but the feeling quickly shifts into relief. Wordlessly hand it to you? Does he want your first impression of him to be awkward and borderline rude? No and definitely no. This problem has a simple solution—it’s a blessing in disguise; he’ll take your cardigan home and bring it to you on Friday and maybe, if his courage allows, he can introduce himself then. 

“Hey! I noticed you left your sweater here last class. I brought it for you. Oh, and by the way, it’s me! I’m @sung.ie. How did I know it was you? I can recognize your voice across a huge lecture hall.”

Yeah… he’ll think more on that later. 

With your cardigan clutched in his fist, Jisung sighs, making his way outside and towards his bicycle. He tucks the clothing item into his backpack and pedals back home, wondering how he’s going to manage to give it back to you since you always get to and leave class before him.  

He knows some of his friends and dorm-mates have their own class today, they had exchanged schedules during lunch a few days ago, which leaves him to hope and pray you’ve decided to skip your class and get online. As he parks his bicycle downstairs and locks it, he slips his phone from his pocket and opens discord, but your bubble remains gray and cold. You’re offline. 

Maybe you haven’t gotten home yet. He checks his phone again when he gets upstairs, and again when he goes inside his dorm, tossing his bag aside and crashing on his bed. He checks after losing a round of candy crush, and again after replying to a text from his mom. 

By the looks of it, you were in class, or at the very least, not available for the moment. Jisung sighs, pretending he’s not actually as disappointed as he feels. It seems a bit dramatic to feel the need to kill time until he gets to talk to you again so he resorts to doing physics homework—a short baseline his teacher assigned that wouldn’t be graded—and tricking his brain into thinking the former is not what he’s actually doing. 

When he pulls his bag off his desk chair to grab his laptop, your cardigan comes into view, and he pauses to look at it. He sits like this for a moment, wondering if he should fold it nicely on his dresser so he can remember to take it to you, but his hands act before his mind can catch up, reaching in and basically shoving the material toward his face. 

With his nose buried in your scent, Jisung inhales deeply, sinking into his chair as his legs grow weaker. The trace of your floral softener is the first aroma he gets, and then, the smell of your perfume peeks through, soft and sweet and very fitting for you. Once more, his treacherous hands are acting for themselves and he’s suddenly undoing his belt single-handedly. 

Once his dick, growing by the minute, is out and clutched in his palm, he finally retracts your sweater. With little hesitation, he wraps it around his erection and pumps once, throwing his head back in immediate relief.

It’s a fucking miracle that his room is the last one at the end of the hall, and that his next door neighbors, Renjun and Jaemin, are both in their afternoon lectures, because nothing would have been able to muffle the wanton moan that rips from his chest as he strokes himself with your scent. His hips are bucking up into the air, and in only a few minutes, he’s broken a slight sweat. His balls tighten from sheer sensitivity at the act of fucking something directly related to you. 

A cry of your name, followed by a few more pumps and he’s coming inside your mangled cardigan, his white release breaching the thin material. It seeps through it like light through a veil, gathering thickly on top before spreading into a dark, wet patch. There’s a shudder that passes through his bones as he sits back, burying his cock into the fabric and keeping it there until he’s given up every last drop. 

The only thing that snaps him from his post-nut bliss, is the distinct discord ring-tone that blasts through his headset. His computer monitor turns on as your icon appears and simultaneously, his heart and dick both twitch. 

“Hello?” With his output device swung over his head, he presses the green ‘answer’ button and speaks into the mic, hiding his slight shortness of breath with a yawn. 

“I’m so glad you answered,” you beam, and he does too, “I was worried I had called while you were in class or something,” 

As he speaks, he wipes the remnants of his cum off with your cardigan and puts it aside on his desk, tucking his softening (and still very sensitive) dick away into his boxers, “No, you’re good. I had a class earlier today but now I’m free.” 

“What a relief,” you sigh, “Would you want to have a little homework ‘sesh’ with me? I just found out the library doesn’t have any available labs. I doubt I’ll be able to concentrate much with you but at least I'll be in good company.”

“Like an e-date?” 

“We can call it that,” you grin, then he pictures your expression becoming a gloom one to match your slightly sadder tone as you admit, “Sometimes I wish we went to the same school so we could meet up and study at a coffee shop.” 

He snorts, unable to help but crack a joke, “Like a real date?” 

Your laugh makes his heart swell slightly. When you reply, “Maybe,” it starts flipping wildly in his chest. 

God, you can’t even begin to imagine how badly he wants that. 

“That would be nice,” he agrees humbly, a blush creeping on his cheeks. “What class are you gonna study for?” 

There’s a pause before you speak again where you hum in thought, flipping through a few pages and shuffling through your bag. Jisung joins you, grabbing his laptop and school supplies, “I have a project for my astronomy class. It’s related to constellations and I wanna start researching them so that I can make an outline for the assignment,” 

He looks through his math notes with his brows furrowed down, “I thought she was gonna assign them on Friday?” 

Your icon flickers as you reply, “She is, but I want to—wait. How did you know that?” At your words and the realization of his untimely slip up, Jisung’s body goes rigid. He can only imagine the confusion on your features, and he’s quite relieved you can’t see the look on his. If his eyes were to open any wider, he’s sure they might just slip out of his head. 

“Oh, um,” he clears his throat mechanically, then gulps in an effort to lubricate it and keep his voice steady, assertive, certain. “You mentioned it on Monday, remember?” 

“Did I?” You didn’t, but he really hopes you think you did. “Probably,” At that, he lets out the air he’s holding, shaking his head slightly at himself for being so careless. 

“But um, yeah,” he starts before you can give it any further thought, “If she’s assigning them Friday why are you working on it today?” 

“Cause she’s also assigning partners on Friday, and I don’t really know anyone besides the girl who sits next to me and I doubt I’ll get paired with her. I want to make sure my grade is secured, you know? I’ve never liked group projects. I feel like all the work gets dumped on me.” 

He’s still not entirely sure what you mean to do, or how you intend to create a blueprint of sorts without knowing what it was for, and so he stops flicking through his page of notes to look up at his monitor and ask, “But if you don’t know which constellation you’re gonna work on, how are you gonna make an outline?” 

You ponder his question for a moment, then mumble out, “She didn’t mention a rubric or anything, so I figured that as long as I plan out the different sections and give the project a structure, half of the work is cut out, right? I can just assign parts at that point.” 

“You’re that kinda person in a group project? I’m sorry to whoever gets partnered with you,” He’s not sorry, not at all. He’s rather envious, actually, despite his attempts to sound indifferent or amusing. Being granted time to spend with you at your place or his, or at the library or the local campus cafe, would be a no less than perfect ice breaker. Jisung would make sure you never felt like all the research and assembling depended solely on you—in fact, he could see himself now, spending countless hours perfecting the details of his assigned part and inquiring about other suggestions to improve the project, just to impress you or at the very least, satisfy you. The reality that someone else would get to do all of that in his place is disheartening. 

You guys had rarely ever talked about school before now, since neither of you actually were enrolled in any classes when you started chatting, but now that it’s relevant, he feels like he understands a whole different side of you. You’re organized, and obviously very studious. Hell, you’ve been itching to get started on assignments that haven’t even been assigned yet. You’re responsible, dependable, funny, beautiful, and every time he thinks of you lately, he realizes that his innocent crush is slowly becoming an insatiable one.   

“Hey! I’d be very nice if it was you, you know. Show you some favoritism,” the corners of his lips twitch upwards—“But I’m also glad it’s not you,”—and fall down again. 

“What? Why?” He tries to not sound too offended. 

“I’d end up talking your ear off, Sung.” 

“I’m already used to that, don’t mind it. Kinda like it, actually.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” He nods curtly, even though there’s a monitor and an entire school campus between you and him and he knows you have no way of seeing his gesture. There's a moment of silence that you spend taking a brief breath as a glow tinges your cheeks. 

With a stifled laugh, you open your mouth again, “I think it’s just because you like me that you tolerate my rambling,” 

“No.” He’s quick to clarify, “I really do like it.” He loves it. 

“And me?” your voice is much quieter, almost giving the impression that you’re shy in asking something so decisive and direct. Jisung, emboldened by your vulnerability, and the distance the screen puts between you two, answers with certainty. 

“I like you, too.” 

•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ

 “The constellation project, as I mentioned during your first class, is a tool for you to acquaint yourself with your classmates. It will be due in 3 weeks, and you can check the syllabus for specifications regarding that. After today, there will be no changing partners or constellations so should you need any changes to be made, you have until class is dismissed. Listen closely as I read out the pairs for the project. I will not repeat myself.” 

The sharp tone he’s growing more and more distaste for by the day drowns out as Jisung glances over at you. Today, you’re sporting a bone-colored long sleeve and corduroy pants with half of your hair held back in a shiny clip. You look ravishing. Truthfully, he can’t really tell if you’re wearing makeup or not—although he concludes it doesn’t matter. Your features are soft and pretty nonetheless, and your cheeks have turned rosy from the dropping autumn temperatures. 

“Yu Karina will be partnered with Lee Heesung. Your constellation is Cassiopeia.”

When you walked into the lecture hall this morning, there was a hot coffee cup with the campus cafe’s logo on it clutched in your hands, which you sipped on while shivering. Taking your usual seat, you greeted the girl next to you, who Jisung now knew was called Yu Karina. 

The dark haired girl perked up when Professor Hwang called her name and waved down the aisle at who he can only assume is Lee Heesung, her partner, then whispered something to you. You looked over at the boy and back at Karina, nodding and giggling with her. 

“Jennifer Huh, partnered with Ning Yizhuo,” Professor Hwang referenced her other list, “Constellation: Cancer.” 

The two girls greet each other with a look and a smile, but Jisung pays little mind. He’s listening intently—for the first time—in anticipation of hearing one of your names be called. He doesn’t exactly know your full name, only a nickname he refers to you as, the one attached to your discord handle. Otherwise, pinpointing you that first day of class would’ve been much easier. 

“Park Jay and Lee Sohee, your constellation is Orion.” 

Sitting there, he realizes that in all the months you’ve talked, he’s never once asked for your full first name. Is that strange? What kind of friend is he if he doesn’t even know your name? In all fairness, you never asked for his, either, so he supposes it’s okay. Would have been useful to know, though, at times like this. 

After his small confession of ‘like’ on Wednesday, the two of you went on studying your respective subjects, with the occasional (and inevitable) distraction here and there. Admittedly, he thought his comment would be forgotten rather quickly. It wasn’t like he outwardly poured his heart out to you, so he figured you’d move on and just crack a joke or two about it later. There was a change, though; a strikingly obvious one to Jisung, who hangs on your every word like it’s a tether that keeps him from floating. And, even if he didn’t pay such close attention to you, there’s no way he could have missed the new flirtatious ambiance that flourished afterwards. Flirting with you is not uncommon by any means—the two of you playfully tease each other with frequency, but it’s nothing he’d allow himself to look into too much, for his own sake. 

That changed in the hours following his comments. All of Wednesday evening, the two of you went back and forth, feeding each other compliments in the form of banter. Again, he thought it would end there, but on Thursday afternoon when you logged on, he asked how your progress was going with the outline, to which you texted back, “I was thinking of you all day. Didn’t get around to doing much else.” 

It wasn’t the only message from you that nurtured his feelings, either. There were enough substantially flirty messages from your conversation that night, that he was able to scroll through them and reread them a few times before bed. 

ynn ᓚᘏᗢ: yesterday at 6:49PM

hi did you smile when you saw my name pop up on your phone just now

ynn ᓚᘏᗢ: yesterday at 8:22 PM

you’re so cute

i can barely think 

ynn ᓚᘏᗢ: yesterday at 9:14 PM

i feel like my day doesn’t make sense if we don’t talk 

ynn ᓚᘏᗢ: yesterday at 10:58 PM

i should get to sleep 

but i don’t wanna stop texting you

ynn ᓚᘏᗢ: yesterday at 12:02 AM

goodnight, sung <3 miss you til’ you’re back

Now, as he eyes you with a boyish, lovesick gaze, watching you doodle your stupid little drawings as you await your assignment, he finds himself praying for the courage to come up to you after class.

Professor Hwang calls your name next, something he only realizes at the fitting similarity of your nickname and the way your pen meets the table in alert to being called on, head lifting up and eyes blinking expectantly. 

“Your partner will be,” 

Jisung holds his breath, chanting in his head ‘please, oh, please let it be me,’

 “Lee Chan.” 

Wishful thinking never got anyone anywhere, then. He ignores the way his heart sinks into the pits of his stomach, unable to help but observe your curious gaze as it looks around the filled seats. For a fleeting moment, you meet his eyes, but he doesn’t react or claim to be Lee Chan who you so evidently are in search of, and so you pass him and keep studying the aisles. After a few seconds, you find no one gazing back, even after you slightly stand to peer above the nearby heads that obscure your view. 

“Your constellation is-” 

With a cautious raise of your hand, you interrupt Professor Hwang gently, “Excuse me, Professor, but I don’t think my partner is here.” 

For a moment, her lazer-like gaze looks like it could light you on fire, a consequence of daring to interrupt her, but it softens only slightly as she realizes the truth in your statement, scanning the room herself and calling out for the missing boy. Upon receiving no call back, she thinks for a moment, then looks back down at her clipboard and crosses something out. 

“I did mention attendance was mandatory, didn’t I?” This she mutters to herself, “No matter. Instead, you’ll work with,” she gives the paper another once over, then clicks her pen and speaks, “Park Jisung.” 

In an awkward burst of both excitement and confusion, Jisung darts out of his chair. His knee hits his desk with a clang, and his laptop would have gone flying if it wasn’t for his quick hands that catch it before it can fall. The loud ruckus turns several heads in his direction, including Professor Hwang’s and more importantly, yours. 

Feeling an awful lot like a deer caught in headlights, Jisung blinks as the two of you make eye-contact, then he takes his seat again, very quickly by the way. “Uh, that’s me,” he announces, heat spreading across his face and eyes darting around, “Sorry.” 

Does he feel more sorry to his teacher and classmates for disrupting the classroom, or to himself and you for the absolute fool he has just made of himself? As much as he’d like to tear his gaze away from yours and cast it to the ground in embarrassment, it remains stuck on you, awaiting your impending reaction. 

You’re rather unsure how to feel, though given, a little surprised at the commotion. You offer him a small smile through pursed lips, and Jisung nods, willing with all his might for a hole to open in the ground beneath him and swallow him.  

“Thank you, Mr. Park, for your remarkably clear confirmation. Your constellation is Gemini.” 

You turn in your chair to face the front again, scribbling down his name in the corner of your notebook, as well as the constellation you’d been assigned.

“He’s cute,” Karina comments to you as you look over at her, and you finally let out a small laugh you had been holding in. 

“He is. Clumsy,” you snort, “but cute.” 

“We both got cute partners. We should meet up at the library later and all get started on the project together,” 

You nod enthusiastically, going back to your outline that sits at the ready on your laptop screen and making quick work of labeling the different sections evenly. If it wasn’t so obvious for you to spin around and steal a glance, you might have done so again. You’re certainly tempted to, thinking back to seconds ago and realizing you hadn’t really noticed him the last two classes. 

Jisung watches your exchange with his dignity at serious risk. He’s entirely unable to hear or make out what you’re saying to each other, and it makes his pulse pick up and his mind race. He considers many things as he watches the two of you talk: firstly, asking to change his partner, but then realizing that would be an awful idea. Once you knew who he was, how would you ever forgive him for immediately ditching you? Absolutely not. Cowering had gotten him nowhere so far. 

Then, he considers switching out of the class himself, and disappearing, never to reveal himself to you—but that wasn’t the right thing to do either. Incapable of checking out of your life so quickly and denying himself the treat that is seeing you three times a week (and now, possibly more), he cans that idea, too. 

As Professor Hwang finishes reading off the list of names, he begins planning what he’ll actually say to you, as that conversation is just minutes away. There’s less than a half-hour left of class, which means he has to think hard and fast. 

As he busies himself with the grueling task of picking an appropriate and redeeming introduction, he doesn’t hear the new instructions from Professor Hwang, which are to find your partner and begin brainstorming, as well as exchanging schedules to set aside time outside of class to work on the presentation. A shadow falls over his desk and consumes his work space in darkness. When his curiously squinted eyes trail up to find the source, only to land on you, hovering above him with your things clutched in your arms, he grips his seat to keep from jumping out of it for the second time today. 

“Is this seat taken?” 

So much for having time to figure out how to approach you. His heart does a leap of surprise in his chest in place of his physical body, and he resists the urge to clutch it.

“No.” He replies shortly. 

With your unfaltering, kind smile still present on your face, you laugh softly and place your things down, introducing yourself. 

“You’re Ji-sun, right?” 

“—Sung.” he politely corrects you. When you don’t immediately react, he wonders if you had even heard him. He doesn’t put it past himself to have imagined that he replied to you, between his sweating palms and nervous jittering, and your pretty self sitting just a foot away, he’s barely keeping it together.  After a moment that feels infinitely longer than it actually is, you raise your eyebrows slightly, round lips parted to ask your question with a palpable hesitance. 

“W-what?” 

“Jisung,” he quickly replies, pronouncing the ‘g’ clearly and masking the way his eyes widen with a heavy blink that honestly, may not serve as any better of a guise. He pleads with himself to get his shit together but luckily, you don’t seem to notice. 

“Oh, sorry… Sorry, It’s just—nevermind. Hi, Jisung.” 

“Hi, Y/N.” He savors the way your name feels on his tongue but keeps his enjoyment brief. 

“I hope you don’t mind,” you start, lifting the screen of your laptop to reveal the very same outline you had started working on during your last call with him, “but I already made an outline. If you wanna scrap it and start all over, we can—” 

“No, It’s fine, we can use this,” when you give him an unsure look, he smiles reassuringly, “It looks brilliant.” 

“Thank you.” There’s a pause that is filled only by you clearing your throat, “Ok, I have a literature class right after this one on Mondays and Wednesdays. The rest of my classes are online, so I’m free at any time, really. I usually like to study at the computer labs in the library, it’s nice and private there and I find it much easier to focus. But if you don’t want to go there, we could always go to the cafe or the square for some fresh air. Oh, and either one of our dorm rooms works fine if you’re okay-” 

To experience your presence on a phone call is one thing, but to experience it in real life, with your clear voice so arresting and your silky, smooth lips within reach, is absolutely mesmerizing. He’s fighting the urge to glance down at your mouth, but it’s becoming increasingly harder to sustain eye contact, as lovely as he decides your eyes are. Another thing that is becoming exponentially harder, and more sensitive all the same, is his cock, springing to life with an eagerness to greet you. 

There’s a bit of panic that flashes across his features as he senses the strain it’s causing in his pants, and only when you look down at your outline does he dare to sneak a glance down at his own groin where as expected, a noticeable imprint was beginning to develop. In a desperate gesture, he slides his notebook over his lap, suppressing a hiss, and leans forward to pretend to use his own laptop. 

“Any of those work for me,” 

“Okay, great,” You notice the time and turn back to him. “You can just message me when you’re free.”

“Sure.” 

“And here’s my number—” you reach over, sliding the protective notebook from his lap and placing it on your desk, scribbling your number in the corner. Jisung immediately readjusts his hoodie, throwing the hem of it over his boner. Professor Hwang dismisses the class as you pass it back. 

“Call me whenever you’re free.” With a spin of your heel, you wave goodbye to him and rejoin Karina, who waits for you  at the door with her partner.

Jisung lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding, and looks down at the number you wrote. Beside the digits, written in very neat handwriting, might he add, sat perched on a wobbly branch a little black cat that he recognized from his hours of staring as one of your doodles. 

•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ

The time is 4:33PM, and Jisung has drafted over a dozen messages on the iMessage app addressed to your number. None of them have exactly made it to you yet, courtesy of his thumb that keeps pressing backspace and wiping out any trace of a remotely embarrassing text. It’s the next day and no introduction or invitation to meet up seems like it’s good enough to send, though he knows that inevitably, he has to text you first. You left your number behind with the doodle that he has since stuck to the corner of his PC monitor, but you never took down his; so now, the ball is in Jisung’s court, and he knows that if he waits too long, you’d think he was avoiding you or the project altogether. 

Realistically, he knows a simple “Hi, it’s Jisung,” will suffice, but he can’t bring himself to send you such an unoriginal and boring message. After pondering for a moment, he then decides the best solution would be to do some research, and then call you with his findings—this way, his interest in the project would be clear, and he knows how important that is to you. 

At once, he peels your cum-stained cardigan off of his lap, though not before stealing a glance at the day’s new additions, and places it aside. He tucks his spent dick into his short and turns on his monitor, typing the name of the constellation into Google and investigating nearly every website he could find with any useful information. 

In the nicest handwriting he can manage, Jisung bullets a list of all the facts and history he could find on ‘Gemini’ within the hour, including the stars that make up the constellation, the myth behind it, and other relevant statistics. It isn’t until he has filled up an entire page front and back—partially—that he picks up his phone again and makes another attempt at contacting you. 

Feeling slightly more confident, he types up his message. 

To: 555-111-0205

hi, it’s jisung from astronomy. i did some research and i wanted to show you what i found. let me

know if you’re free to exchange notes. Sent at 5:52 PM.

Jisung rereads over his message for any flaws, though there’s nothing he can do about it now that it’s sent, anyway. After he deems it an okay first message, he takes a breath and moves to put his phone down, but it buzzes in his hand instead. 

Incoming call at 5:54 PM From: 555-111-0205

“Hi-”

“Hi! Sorry to just call unannounced but I’m walking to the library with all my stuff and I can’t really text. I was able to book us a computer lab for the next two hours so If you want, we—can you hear me?” 

He sits up straighter, “Yeah! Yes, I can hear you,” 

“Oh, good, so—wait, hello?” Your voice shifts in volume and proximity, as if you pulled your phone from your ear to check the call screen, then brought it back, “Oh, sorry. I-I thought I had accidentally called someone else… nevermind.” Instantly, Jisung realizes instantly that you must have recognized his voice. It makes sense, seeing as you’re used to hearing it specifically on calls. You seem to show no further suspicion as you continue speaking, though, but perhaps, he should keep talking on the phone with you to a minimum. 

“Do you think you can make it? Otherwise I can go work on my own. I saw your text and instantly booked the room. Sorry for not checking in with you first,” 

“I’ll meet you there,” He replies quickly, grimacing at the instinctual effort it takes to try and make his voice deeper. 

“Okay! Great. I’ll see you there, then.” You hang up, and then your text message comes through with the lab room information just minutes later. 

Jisung all but lunges out of his chair and rushes to face himself in the mirror, taking in his reflection. Besides his hair that looks slightly disheveled, he looks alright. He doesn’t want to make you wait long for him, so he quickly grabs his laptop and his notes, shoves them all into his bag, and flies out of his dorm room with the laces of his sneakers left untied.  

In the brightly, yellow-lit hallway, Mark and Chenle are popping out of their respective rooms, a basketball clutched under the younger boy’s arm.

“We were just about to come grab you,” Chenle starts, “Let’s play some ball. Jeno’s meeting us at the court,”

“Can’t,” Jisung shakes his head, “I’m going to the library,” he tries to not get offended at the way the two boys snort loudly in disbelief, looking at each other as if they’ve both had the same thought. 

“Yeah, right.” Chenle scoffs. 

With a blink, Jisung replies meekly, “I’m serious.” 

“Since when do you go to the library?” Mark brows pinch and he adds, “It’s the start of term. You’re already studying?”

“Since now, I guess. I have a project for a class so I’m gonna go meet up with my partner at the library, but I’ll catch you guys later.” 

“Alright, alright. Oh—remember there’s a party next week at Jaehyun’s frat for syllabus week.” 

“Yeah, I’ll be there.” His answer doesn’t seem to fully convince Mark, Chenle, or even himself, but they seem satisfied enough, because they let Jisung go without any more pestering. He flies down the flight of stairs and out the front door of the dormitory. 

The cold September air is biting at this time in the evening, feeling particularly cool on the apples of his cheek, which glow from the light layer of sweat that develops during his jog over to the library. It’s a considerable distance away, which is part of the reason why he, in his two years of being a student at the university, has never seriously stepped foot inside of it. Studying in his room is much more convenient, but you seem to like the library, so the twenty-minute-walk there, or in this case, fifteen-minute-jog, will simply have to be adopted as a new way to get in some brief exercise a few times a week. 

More than likely, you have already arrived, and Jisung doesn’t want to make you wait too long for him, especially since there’s a two-hour time limit on the room and he intends to spend as much time with you there as he can. He wipes his cheeks with his gray sleeves and climbs up the stairs of the building quickly, swiping his student card at the door and stepping inside. 

The ceiling is massively tall, seemingly taller than when he once saw it during freshman orientation, and the endless rows of shelves are filled with books, ranging from thin, colorful novels to thick, leather-bound classics. It’s quieter than he expects it to be, even for a library, and he clearly can hear the pitter patter of his feet as he follows the sign labeled ‘Study Rooms and Computer Labs.’ 

The guy at the reception desk in this section seems to be a volunteer, his student ID and name tag shining on his shirt. He glances up from his book when Jisung approaches, nodding once. There’s an awkward silence that feels rather loud as Jisung fumbles with his phone, flipping it between his clammy hands as he searches for your message. 

“Computer Lab 4C?” 

Wordlessly, the boy nods again, then slides over a clip-board with a sign-in sheet clamped to it. 

It’s surprising to see how many lab spots are filled up so early into the term, names scribbled along the lines and time-slots. Your name stands out, partly because of your familiar handwriting, but particularly because of the empty line beside it, where he signs in before handing the clip-board back. 

“Down the hall, second door on your right.” 

It’s Jisung’s turn to bob his head once and the boy looks back down at his book. He makes his way down the hall until he reaches the correctly labeled door. His hand reaches for the handle, but he withdraws it. Should he knock? Or maybe send you a text? Or both? 

To: 555-111-0205

hey again. i’m outside :) Sent at 6:18 PM.

The door creaks open from the taps of his knuckles bumping against it, and he peeks his head in timidly, finding you sitting in one of the desk chairs, nearly hidden behind your laptop and a stack of books. You look up over the screen, eyes squinting in a smile. 

“Oh, I had left the door open for you,” you stand up, holding out a cup for him, “and I got you coffee… didn’t know how you liked it so I just got you the same thing I order,” 

There’s a fluttering in his stomach as he sets his bag down. There’s no chance he can manage to meet your eyes after such a gesture so he casts them to the ground instead, graciously reaching out to receive with both hands the drink you offer him, “You didn’t have to,” he mumbles, “but thank you. I’m sure your order is great,” 

“I wanted to! It’s just—I mean, I did drag you out of your room in the cold and on really short notice—A hot coffee was the least I could do,” you shrug, “One of my friends works at the cafe and I was there doing some work for my literature class before I got your message and I figured I’d grab us both something before I headed over here… Sorry, I’m talking too much. Here, sit down.” 

He’s not exactly sure what to say, so he takes his seat beside you in silence, but not without a small smile decorating his face. The notes he had taken down to show you are retrieved from his bag, as well as his laptop. There’s a low screech of your chair dragging across the floor, and he turns to find you’ve scooted closer and you're leaning forward with your cheek resting on your palm, eyes intently looking at his research. 

“It isn’t much. I’m sure whatever you found is much more substantial, but I couldn’t show up empty handed.” Jisung explains, sliding the paper over to you. As your eyes scan the page, you make a few comments along the lines of ‘Oh, this is a good point,’ or ‘We should mention this.’

You seem to be very carefully reading his work. Meanwhile, he takes advantage of your preoccupation to let his eyes rake over your person. 

The first thing he notices is that you’re wearing a different cardigan, and he suddenly remembers your black one is still on his desk, unwashed and covered in his cum. Your hair looks soft, and when you mindlessly swing it over your shoulder, he catches a whiff of your lavender scented hair wash, and it makes him gnaw the inside of his cheek. You’re not quite close enough for him to catch the perfume you’ve decided to wear tonight, though he can vividly picture the gentle florals that linger still on your cardigan. His eyes trail down, and it’s only then that he notices your skirt—or blatantly, the length of your skirt. Your smooth thighs are exposed, full and fleshy and pressed together, and he suddenly wishes they were wrapped around his head. 

“Jisung? You okay?” 

“I–Yeah, sorry.” It’s clear that you’ve noticed his staring, and he all but rips his eyes away in embarrassment, “I was just wondering if you were cold,” He gestures down at your legs shyly, pretending the content he’d written on the paper was more interesting the sight of your plush thighs. 

For a moment he expects some harsh comment or outburst, but you laugh instead, smoothing the material down a bit, “No, not in here, at least. And the walk over was short, so,” His lips are pursed and his cheeks are burning, but you spare him from any further humiliation when you reach across him to turn the page over and quietly gasp, muttering some surprise under your breath at how extensive his work is. “This is really good. We can use pretty much all of it.” 

Failing to hide his beaming at your praise, he snaps his head over to you, “You think so?” 

“Yeah, I mean—,” The screen of your laptop changes over to a page of notes, “I pretty much wrote down all the same things. I’m actually so relieved, I was worried I might get paired up with someone who wasn’t gonna contribute.” 

“Bet you’re glad you didn’t switch out of the class now, huh?” 

Distracted in the notes and in the taste of his coffee, he misses your quick, confused glance his way. Smoothly recovering before he notices, you slowly nod and present to him the layout where you had already taken the liberty to assign him his designated parts. Not that he expected anything else; it’s endearing to see his name labeled over specific sections, color-coded in a blue, bolded font. He wastes no time in pulling up the screen of his computer, exchanging emails with you so the two of you can get to work on the shared document.

The time passes quicker than he hopes, and he realizes just how much he likes spending time with you. Talking with you online is one thing, but sitting beside you as you sip your drink and hum mindlessly, fingers typing away or flipping pages in a book? Completely different game. He’s sure that if it wasn’t because he relieved himself earlier today, he might have popped a boner from the simple act of being in your presence. 

Every once in a while, you make an occasional comment regarding a point or two you thought was worth mentioning or adding, and he’d oblige, making a note of it and sharing his thoughts here and there. Occasionally, he manages to steal a look at your thighs, which he swears you’re bouncing and squeezing together on purpose, but for the most part he keeps his focus on the task at hand. 

Towards the end of the night, there’s a moment where your hands brush his as you point something out on his screen, and Jisung swears he’s never felt more like a teenage boy in his life. He practically flinches at the contact, failing to mask his awkward reaction and pretending he really meant to fix his hair.

Bidding you farewell is possibly the most difficult of the tasks this evening, even more so than pretending he isn’t completely infatuated with and aroused by you for a whole two hours. When you stand from your seat and walk with him out of the study room, and subsequently, out of the library and into the cold, Jisung faces another of his many dilemmas related to you. He’s not sure if he should offer to walk you back to your dorm, or at the very least halfway there. Perhaps, offering you his jacket would be appropriate, since your skirt wasn’t doing much of a job at keeping you warm. 

“You live close by?” 

“Yeah! Just a 5 minute walk,” you point your index finger, “In that dorm right over there.” 

Jisung nods once, then decides to indulge his impulses. “Here,” he slides his hoodie off with a little less coordination than he would’ve liked, holding it out for you to take, “so you aren’t cold.” 

He can’t tell if your cheeks are red from the temperature again or from his gesture, but he hopes it’s the latter. The moment you take his sweater, pretty eyes wide in thanks, he sucks in a breath. It’s much chillier now that the sun is gone, and he fights the urge to chatter his teeth when he offers you a lopsided smile. 

“T-thank you,” you tie the sleeves around your waist, covering your lap. 

 “I’ll see you in class?” he asks. 

“Yeah,” you nod, flashing him a final grin before you spin on your heel to head home. 

The twenty-minute-walk-fifteen-minute-jog back to his room feels eternal. All of his hair is standing on end, but picking up his pace too much means that the icy wind, which has so graciously decided to blow in his direction, would just become harsher. His palms soak up the little warmth on his stomach, tucked under his t-shirt, as he alternates between speed-walking and jogging. The minutes drag on and on until finally, his building comes into view and he breaks into a run. 

•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ

The following morning when he walks into his astronomy class, he follows his usual routine of checking for you in your seat and is almost distraught when he finds it to be empty. It’s not like you to miss a class, and he contemplates reaching for his phone to check-in on you. It isn't until he pans his vision over to his own chair that he spots you. You’re accompanied by Karina and her partner, Heesung, taking up the empty seats beside his own. 

On your desk sit two coffee cups like the ones from last night, and he pulls his lip between his teeth to hide the grin that fights to break out.

You look up when you spot him, and Karina and Heesung look up, too. 

“Hi…” 

“Hi! Jisung, right?” Karina extends her hand out and he takes it, nodding to confirm, “I’m Karina and this is Heesung.” He mumbles another small hello to the boy, who acknowledges him before looking back at his computer.

“Good morning,” you greet as he sits, placing his cup on his desk. “You never told me whether you liked it or not, but I figured you’d grow to like it eventually.”

“I-thanks but,” 

“I know: Didn’t have to, but I wanted to. So just say thanks, yeah?” 

There’s a familiar burning on his cheeks that always seems to make an appearance when you’re around, but he doesn’t bother masking it this time. 

“I wanted to ask you if you would be free to study tonight?” 

Instantly, he bobs his head up and down, and you book the study room on your computer just moments before Professor Hwang strides inside the classroom, her glasses on the tip of her sharp, pointed nose. 

•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ

The frat house where the seniors stay is practically next door to Jisung’s dormitory, which is why when Mark, Chenle, and Jeno come banging on his door on Saturday night, he realizes he can’t use walking so far in the cold as an excuse to stay home. He also can’t use studying as an excuse anymore, since Mark had already caught him leaving the dorm a few times throughout the week to go study with you. That, and he ran into Jeno as he was entering the library just the night before. 

“You’ve been studying plenty,” they’d say, or “We told you about the party last week, no way you’re not going.” 

Anyway—the point is, he’ll have to endure tonight, despite his wishes to stay close to his PC for the chance that you’d want to hop into a game. He’d prefer to spend the night talking with you, but that’ll just have to wait until tomorrow. With a somber look on his face, he shrugs on a jacket and opens the door for his friends, who practically drag him outside. 

Jeno slings his arm over the taller boy’s shoulders as if to prevent him from fleeing, and the four of them climb down the stairs and onto the path toward the frat. If Jisung strains his ears, he can already pick up on the sounds of the party, even from here. 

“You think Chaewon will be there?” Mark asks no one in particular, but the boys all respond simultaneously with groans of distaste. 

“You dated her three semesters ago, why do you care?” Chenle starts, “isn’t she seeing Jungwoo now, anyway?”  

“That’s exactly why I care,” Mark grumbles, foot kicking a rock along the pavement. “He’s one of the RAs. If he’s there—” 

“He’s always there,” Chenle interjects, earning a glare. 

“—then she’ll be there, too.” 

“So, what happened with… what’s her name,  Minjeong? Why don’t you hang out with her?” 

“Nah,” He turns to Jeno, “She’s sweet and all, but I found out from Giselle that her and Chaewon are friends, so,” 

There’s a chorus of understanding, albeit a bit pitiful, “aah’s” and “oh’s” as the building comes into view. A few people are gathered at and around the entrance while others litter the parking lot with phones and solo cups in their hands as they wait for friends. Among them, and Jisung has to do a double take to make sure, he spots Karina, who waves someone down from the direction of the main courtyard. For a moment, he thinks it might be you who appears from between the treeline, but it’s Heesung who jogs over to meet her and he realizes how silly his thought was in the first place. 

In the months he’s known you, you’ve never once brought up a party. In retrospect, you don’t seem like the type to like partying at all. He can picture you clearly now, tearing through textbooks or novels for your literature class, or maybe even typing away to him on Discord and asking if he was online. 

He isn’t and can’t be tonight, and he’s very sorry about that, for the record. 

Maneuvering through the crowd of tipsy college students isn’t too difficult,and neither is their entry. The door is propped open, and Jaehyun, with his signature snapback that he wears backwards on his dark hair, calls them over from the drink bar. 

“First problem I see here,” he starts, “is that none of you have a cup in your hand.” 

“We’ve barely made it through the door, man,”  Mark laughs, clapping up Jaehyun and moving aside so he can greet the rest of the guys. 

“That’s no excuse, you should be sipping on something by now.” He waves his arm, “Take a look around, boys! This is what life is gonna look like for you guys next year—and the year after for you, Jisung.” 

Jisung gives a curt, disinterested nod amidst being handed some fruity, fizzy, white claw resemblant that probably wouldn’t taste much different from an Alka-Seltzer. He cracks it open upon being prompted to by Jaehyun, who initiates a “cheers” between the friend group. The moment the alcohol touches his tongue, Jisung grimaces, taking a few long chugs in hopes that the effect will kick in quicker and make the long night that awaits him a little less long. 

“Do you know if Chaewon is here?” 

Wordlessly, Jaehyun fixes his cap and points a single finger toward the couch, where Chaewon sits besides Jungwoo, leaning in to hear him over the music and giggling at whatever he says in her ear. The boys look over at the couple, then quickly glance back at Mark, whose face falls despite the fact that he knew to expect this. 

“Tough,” Jeno gives him a pat on the shoulder, “Hope you have better luck the rest of the night. I’ve gotta bounce,” 

“Yo, what do you mean bounce?” 

He gestures toward a girl standing near the beer pong table, who looks slightly familiar to Jisung, though he can’t quite put his finger on it, and smirks, “She smiled at me the moment we walked in. I’ll see you later, but I honestly hope I don’t.” 

The realization that his friends, in search of their hook-ups for the night, would eventually be abandoning him one-by-one kicks in just then, inviting Jisung to down the rest of his bubbly drink in one go. 

Mark rolls his eyes, “You ever notice Jeno is always the first one to get a girl?” His comment earns a few hums of agreement.

“I’m gonna go find Jaemin,” with his phone clutched in his hand, Chenle turns towards the door, “he just texted me he’s outside with Sullyoon and her friend.” 

“Wait, Jaemin is—he’s setting you up and not me?” Chenle only shrugs at Mark’s question, replying with a blunt and concise “yeah.” 

“I’m not a dog like Jeno though, so I’ll definitely see you guys later.” 

As if noticing he was facing the same unfortunate fate as Jisung, Mark turns to the youngest boy with a fearful look in his eyes. Jisung only shakes his head and takes a quick look around, “I’m not planning on hooking up with anyone here, so…” At this, the boy sighs in relief, handing Jisung another drink in solidarity. The two lean against the counter as Jaehyun looks between them, snorting. 

“Mark, there’s so many girls here.” 

“I know, but—” 

“But Chaewon.” 

Mark nods, echoing Jaehyun in a quiet, maybe even embarrassed voice, “But Chaewon…” 

“Don’t worry, I get it,” he adds sympathetically, “I’m caught up on my ex, too.” 

“Uh…” there’s a pause. “Which one?” This comment lands Mark a shove, playful, for the most part. He rubs his shoulder and hisses while Jaehyun, on the other hand, sloshes around the little liquid left in his cup and grabs the closest bottle of alcohol to him, along with whichever random mixer he finds first.

“The only one that really mattered.” He tilts his newly filled red cup back to drink from it, but his eyes peek over the rim and he pulls it from his lips to sigh out,  “Speak of the devil and she doth come,” he raises his brows and announces, “there she is now.” 

Following his line of sight, Jisung trails his vision toward the front entrance and at once, the sight makes each and every one of his limbs seize up. There’s a twisting and turning in his stomach that almost invites the seltzer he chugged to make a reappearance, and he’s pretty sure the color has drained from his face as he watches you walk inside the frat house behind Karina and Heesung. 

So many things go through his mind in such a short amount of time that he fears he may have had some sort of out-of-body experience or hallucination episode; it wasn't really you he was seeing, it couldn’t be. The way your skirt clings to your hips makes him grip his cup tighter within his sweating palm, and the lacy, corset top you’ve decided to wear, which shows off a tasteful bit of cleavage, causes him to swallow down the saliva that had pooled on his tongue. 

It was a more provocative outfit than he’d even seen you wear, and if it wasn’t for the fact that Jaehyun opened his mouth to speak, he’s sure he would’ve instantly become bricked up. 

“And of course she’s wearing that shirt…” Jaehyun fixes his cap for the second time tonight and straightens out his shirt, “Alright, wish me luck.” 

It’s not like Jisung would have interjected anyway, he didn’t really have the grounds to, but he couldn’t even entertain the thought before Jaehyun headed in your direction with decisive confidence. Part of him hopes he was referring to someone else as his ex, perhaps even Karina, since there isn’t another girl in your immediate vicinity besides her, but his bit of hope is crushed as he spots Heesung’s hand intertwined in hers. Surely, Jaehyun wouldn’t be coming up to her if she showed up with someone to his party. It leaves him to reach his regretful conclusion just as his friend and you make eye contact, recognition flashing across your features, along with something else. 

Unable to torture himself further by watching your exchange, Jisung tears his eyes away and grabs another drink to make this very, very long night ahead of him somewhat bearable. He turns to Mark, who he didn’t even realize had been talking this whole time, but the loud music and the cloudiness in his mind muffle out his speech. 

“—I mean this just sucks! I guess we still have each other, maybe we can find some girls who—” 

When did you even date Jaehyun? You hadn’t mentioned him once in the months he had known you. And also, why  did you date Jaehyun? Not that there was anything wrong with him, other than his habit of cycling through girls every semester. Mark’s “Which one?” comment had some truth to it, but he would have never expected you to have been on Jaehyun’s roster. It takes him a second to remember that Jaehyun is still his friend, but even then, he can’t fight the bitterness that settles in his bones. What did he mean when he said that you were the only one that mattered? How significant was your relationship with him? There’s too many questions circling his mind, and it isn’t until he downs the fifth drink that they start to blur. 

Currently, he’s passing the time conversing with Mark and following him around the party, but more importantly, avoiding you in fear he’ll steal a glance and you’ll be locking lips with your ex. He spots Jaehyun by the bathroom a bit into the night, but thankfully, you aren’t near him. It’s in the middle of a beer pong game with Mark when he dares to glance around in search of you. 

First, he spots Karina and Heesung, making out on the couch where Chaewon and Jungwoo once sat. You aren’t near them. Then he spots Jaemin and Chenle dancing with the girls they had met up with, but you aren’t dancing, either. 

He’s relieved to find you aren’t with Jaehyun when he spots him, finding instead that his friend is flirting it up with a different girl who is certainly not you. The sight completely pisses him off, and somehow makes him feel immense relief simultaneously. Right around this time, he decides he’s had more than enough of the party. You aren’t here anymore, and Jaehyun’s face is making him fucking sick. Mark is slurring his speech enough that he wouldn’t notice if Jisung just slipped, so he does just that, though he does make sure to mention to Chenle that he’s leaving on his way out so he can keep an eye on Mark.  

Outside, the cold is unbearable. The previously crowded lot is empty for the most part, except for a few people puffing clouds of smoke into the air by a bench. Not even the alcohol in his system is enough to warm him up, so he can’t even imagine how a joint could be worth sitting outside for.

The only other person sitting outside is squatted down by the curb with their knees curled up to their chest. As the autumn leaves crack under Jisung’s feet, they turn their head around. 

“I told you I don’t wanna—Jisung?” 

Your big eyes widen in his direction, and you shoot up from the ground. Jisung’s brow lowers in concern and he notices the only thing you have to cover up is a flimsy cardigan. You and your damn, flimsy cardigans. 

“What are you doing out here?” 

“Sorry for snapping I—sorry,” you shiver involuntarily as a gust of wind blows through, wrapping your arms around yourself, “I thought you were someone else.” 

There isn't a sliver of hesitation before Jisung shrugs off his leather jacket and begins to wrap it around you, grumbling, “Are you crazy? You must be freezing,” 

“I’m fine—“ 

“This should help,” 

“But- Jisung, how many of your jackets am I gonna take—” 

“As many as you need to.” Your lack of a response makes him look back up to meet your eyes, round and much warmer than the rest of you was right now. He clears his throat, guiding your sleeves into the arms of the jacket as he jokes, “or until you bring your own.” 

You smile, muttering a small ‘thank you’ as the warmth engulfs you, along with the smell of him and some cheap cologne only a college student would buy. He’s tugging the collar closer to cover up your exposed neck and chest, eyes flickering down at your bare skin despite being well aware that you’re looking. Where this newfound boldness came from tonight, he doesn’t know. What he does know is that his boldness is always rather short-lived when it comes to you, and tends to appear and disappear like random spurts of energy—he’ll take advantage of it this once. Especially now that he knows you’re Jaehyun’s ex and the most he might even get to do is gawk at you, he intends to make it worth it. 

“You must be freezing now, though,” you start, “should we go somewhere warm?” 

“How about the library?” 

You laugh, looking at him in disbelief, “The library isn’t open at this time, much less on the weekend,” “Right…” 

“Wanna go to mine?” Your suggestion makes his breath hitch for a second, but he manages to respond with decent clarity. 

“You live by the library, though. That’s like a half-hour walk. I don’t think you’ll make it that far without turning into an icicle,” 

“Well, I don’t really wanna go back inside…” he knows why, so he offers something else. 

“My dorm is five minutes away. We could go there if you want, b-but if you’d rather go somewhere else—”

“Okay,” you nod eagerly, “let’s go.” 

As Jisung leads the way, speed-walking to beat the chill that spreads through his newly uncovered limbs, he turns his face to you, watching as you tuck the lower half of your face into his coat. 

“I don’t know if you want to work on the project or—” 

“God no,” you huff, rolling your eyes, “I’m not that much of a buzzkill, dude.” You jog a little to catch up to his longer strides, “Besides, I have like three shots of Pink Whitney in me,” 

“Foul.” 

“I know. Can’t think about a project right now,” 

“I’ve had a bit to drink, too.” he admits.

“I can tell. You’re stumbling.” 

He snaps his head around, down to his feet, then back to you. “What? Am I?” 

There’s a small, stupid smile on your face as you shake your head. “No.”

He can’t pinpoint why this banter with you is so easy, why it feels so right. Or perhaps, he can, but regardless, his heart leaps in his chest as he scoffs, not fighting the shit-eating grin that spreads on his frosted cheeks. 

"It’s that building right over there,” he points.

“You weren’t kidding when you said it was close,”

The two of you climb the stairs and he opens the main door for you, watching you sigh out in bliss as you step into the warmth of the hall. You bounce around in a cute way that once more tugs at his heart-strings, still looking all puffed up and adorable in his jacket that entirely engulfs your frame. He leads you up another flight of stairs and onto the floor his room is at, and once the two of you stop in front of his door, he pats his jean pockets. 

“Oh my uh- my keys are in the pocket of the jacket.” 

You mimic his recent action, patting around until you find his keys, holding them out for him to take. 

Somewhat awkwardly, he fumbles with them until he manages to fit it into the lock, opening the door with one hand. He gestures for you to enter his room with a small shrug, “Make yourself at home.” 

As you step inside, Jisung makes it a point to quietly thank whatever higher power compelled him to make his bed this afternoon. The rest of his room wasn’t perfectly organized by any means, but at the very least, his bed, which you now sat at the foot of with your legs bouncing, was neatly made. 

“You have your own room?” You mutter in surprise as you look around the small space and notice the lack of a second bed. The tall boy beside you just shrugs again, toeing off his shoes in the corner as he pulls the door closed. 

“Yeah, uh… I’m one of the RAs for the sophomore class.” 

“Wow,” you sigh, “I wish! I mean, I love sharing a room with Karina, but it’s nice to have space for myself sometimes.” 

“That’s why you’re always at the library?” 

You nod, sliding your palms across his duvet, “It’s nice and quiet,” your fingers move to grip and release the material, and he blinks harshly to erase the sight of that from his mind before it causes him to spiral. It didn’t prove to be very useful, though, because your still-exposed thighs move and press together, just as they did at the library, and his dick gives a little twitch in response.

“I’ll get you some clothes to change into, that way you’re more comfortable.” he decides, more for his sake than yours. You don’t answer, continuing to look around, taking in the details of his computer that flashes in a bunch of different colors. 

“You know I gave up extra storage in my bedside table to be able to keep my PC? I let Karina take it to her side of the room so I’d have space for my setup.” 

Rummaging through his drawers, he pipes up, “you game?” as if it wasn’t something he already knew about you. 

“I love it. I stayed here for most of the summer just because I had my computer here.”  

Jisung picks out a pair of sweats for you and one for himself, along with a t-shirt he knows he recently washed, then he turns, handing it over to you. “I’ll change in the bathroom down the hall and then wait outside. You can crack the door open when you’re done,” 

“Thank you, Jisung.” 

There’s a gentle sincerity in your tone that makes him wanna say “anything for you,” but he settles for pursing his lips instead, leaving to let you change before he can embarrass himself with any baseless comment you wouldn’t really get. The effect of the drinks still hadn’t completely faded, and he fears he’s capable of saying just about any of his stupid thoughts out loud right about now. 

You weren’t completely sober either, not by any means. The trashy vodka your ex offered you in an attempt to reconcile was as bitter as the end of your relationship with him, and it was flowing through your veins and giving you that light-headed buzz. You stand up and slip off your boots and Jisung’s jacket, along with your skirt. Your top requires a bit more precision, the lace getting twisted and tangled in your uncoordinated fingers. There’s little huffs and puffs of frustration that leave your lips during your struggle, and you’d almost consider asking for help if it wasn’t completely inappropriate. 

Finally, though, you manage to get it off and slip on the change of clothes Jisung has so graciously provided. They’re warm and they smell good, and they’re much more comfortable than your outfit which is now folded on Jisung’s gaming chair, alongside your purse. 

When you look up in admiration of his impressive keyboard, which looks to be custom made, and your eyes trail up to his monitor, you notice something on the corner of the screen. The mindless doodle you had drawn beside your phone number that day in class had been very carefully cut out and stuck onto his screen with tape. 

“You okay?”

His voice calls from outside, quietly as if not to disturb you even though it’s you who is occupying his room. 

“Yeah, I’m almost done!”

“I thought that she was gonna assign them on Friday?”

Sung had asked you that on call, in regards to the constellation project you mentioned you wanted to start working on. Not Jisung, Sung. Sung, who is not in your astronomy class and would have had no way of knowing when or even what your professor would be assigning. 

“You’re Ji-sun, right?” 

“—Sung.”

The nickname sounded very right coming from his lips, from his voice. You never gave his nickname too much thought, because truly, Sung could just be a display name. And if it is his real name, it could stand for anything: Sungmin, Sungwoo, Daesung, Ilsung, Jaesung… Jisung. 

And then, you recall the time you spoke on the phone—specifically, the time you had to do a double take at your screen to make sure you hadn’t actually called Sung. It was the first time you had spoken to Jisung on the phone, and it’s the only way you had even spoken to Sung… something about it seemed so, so strangely familiar. 

Could it be… 

“Alright, I’m done!” Your announcement comes after the realization that he’s been waiting outside for a few minutes already. 

“Coming in…” He warns, eyes still cast to the ground in case you weren’t decent. They slowly make their way up, and something flashes across his features at the sight of you. You try to ignore it, still preoccupied by your growing suspicions. His computer is on… meaning…

“Let me let Karina know I left… I kinda just walked out on her.” 

Jisung nods and takes a cautious seat on his bed a few feet away from you. 

As you open the discord app on your phone, you scroll to the top to find his contact and type out a simple Hi, clicking send with your heart beating faster than usual. It’s an impulsive act, but you can’t help yourself. If there’s even a chance… 

Instantly, his screen lights up and through his headphones you hear the familiar chime of the notification coming in. 

“I knew it! I fucking knew it!” 

If it’s possible, Jisung’s face grows even paler than it already was naturally, and even more gloom than it appeared earlier in the night when he identified you as Jaehyun’s ex. All of his features are alert and in shock, watching as you spin around to face him. 

“Sung? Right? That’s you?” 

He’s struggling to read your expression, and it’s beyond obvious. The only change in his demeanor is the now tensed up shoulders and the redness that takes over the white on his cheeks. 

“I—” Are you mad? Should he apologize?

“Did you know all this time? That it was me, I mean?” 

He nods slowly, unable to find the appropriate words to say. 

Two things happen just then. First, your hand smacks his arm, hard. “You fucking idiot!” and Second, you topple into his arms, hugging him. Initially, his hands hesitate to wrap around you, hovering above your waist as you squeeze his neck. 

“You’re not mad?” He asks shyly. You shake your head against him, then lift off with your hands on his shoulders to take a real good look at his face. 

“No! I’m so glad, I thought I was going crazy. Why didn’t you tell me?” 

He shrugs again, a gesture he seems to do a lot around you. 

“Since when did you know it was me?” 

“Since I heard you speak on the very first day in class. I recognized your voice.” 

Your eyes soften at this small confession, and you look back towards his desk, “So, this is where you were this whole time while we played? This close? A twenty-minute walk away?” You shoot up from the bed and cross the small distance to the desk, swiping an index finger along the surface, then his mouse, then his keyboard, and all of his other equipment. Your eyes are beaming, looking around and familiarizing yourself with his things. All the things you wondered about him are now laid out in front of you, and it’s exhilarating. 

“I was so excited when I found out,” 

“You should’ve told me,” you repeat, still taking in his pictures and personal items, your profound curiosity surfacing within you. 

“I was worried about making a good first impression, you’re…” 

“I’m…?” you press, turning to him for a moment. 

“You’re really pretty in person.” 

In that moment when you turn away to hide your blush, with the words “you’re really cute in person, too” ready to spill from your tongue in a sweet and shy whisper, a small black pile on the corner of his dresser catches your eye. 

“What’s that—” 

“Oh nothing! It’s just—” 

“Is that my cardigan?” 

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

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

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

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

“Jisung.” 

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

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

“I-” 

“Were you?” You ask sternly. 

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

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

“Show me.”

*. * ·

taglist: @heartlvrrss @albedoloser @zp00ks @simpforarmihn @toroufriteh @quokkatss @jising-jisang-jisung @camstqr @tangerinehyuck @ma-riiii @minlvrpage @hancafe

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[kingkatsuki]

— a favour

Deku has a favour to ask of Bakugou, and he hopes you’ll be happy to oblige.

This is pretty much for Kitten idk😂😭

Warnings: 18+.

Word Count: 0.8k.

“You wanna what?” Bakugou sneers as he pushes his mask up onto his forehead, raising a brow. Completely positive that Deku hadn’t just asked him that question, there ain’t no fucking way—

“No, no, no, listen! I’ll pay you— and I just think it’ll be better with you both rather than a stranger.”

“And you think that’s a favour?” Bakugou grunts, ��A favour is ‘Can you spot me?’ or ‘Can you give me a lift?’— not can I fuck your girlfriend?”

“No! I don’t want to fuck her—” A blatant lie, “I want to watch—”

“You want me to fuck my girlfriend—” Bakugou sounds on his tongue, as though that would make it make sense, “And you just wanna watch?”

“Um, well yeah.” The tips of Deku’s ears were burning crimson, tinted all the way across his cheeks as he felt his stomach knot.

After he was caught in a drunken fumble with an escort a few months ago, Midoriya had to be more careful about the company he kept. The story only failed to reach the local news outlets and social media thanks to his quick thinking HR team sending out a lengthy NDA, paired with a substantial payoff. Escorts, strangers online and Only Fans were now completely off limits. If the public found out about the Number One Heroes filthy little secret his entire image would be destroyed.

“So why not just go out and fuck a girl?” Bakugou snorts, “There’s gotta be thousands of women ready to get into the Number One’s pants.”

“It’s not just about that,” Deku flushes, trying to avoid Bakugou’s intense fiery gaze, “I like to watch—”

“So watch porn.” Bakugou scoffs, “I’m sure I’ve got plenty of fuckin’ videos on my phone that I can send ya— there’s one where I’ve got her in this posi—”

“No!” Midoriya cut him off, “I mean— I like when people are mean to me.”

Bakugou’s lips curled into a sinful grin at the realisation as he held his phone in his hands, staring down at his former school friend, “You like being degraded huh? You sick freak.”

Midoriya bit back a groan as he felt his pants tighten at the brash tone, his cock pulsing beneath the tough fabric as he shifted from foot to foot.

“And what makes you think she’d even agree to it, hah?” Bakugou knew you were more than comfortable trying out new kinks and experiences in the bedroom with him, just last week you’d filmed a raunchy CNC sex tape after your date plans had been ruined by a torrential downpour. And you were more than happy for him to share some of the moments he filmed with his best friends— But this was inviting another man, a friend, into your most intimate moments together. Nowhere near the same as sending a quick thirty second video of you bouncing on his cock to Kirishima.

“Can you at least ask her?” Midoriya mumbles, “Please?”

“Yeah, sure.” Bakugou itches his nose with the back of his hand, “I’ll tell her what a sick fuckin’ freak you are, Deku.”

Midoriya was certain he could’ve creamed his pants from the condescending lilt to Bakugou’s voice as he grabbed his towel out of his locker, his stomach lurching as he thought about whether this was what his friend was like when he was with you. Watching Bakugou disappear behind the shower stalls as Midoriya finally chanced palming his throbbing cock for a moments relief, wincing when he felt just how wet with pre his boxers were as they stuck to his skin uncomfortably, moulding to his cock as he groaned in satisfaction.

Did Bakugou talk to you like this too? So full of spite and degredation— Did the same thing get you off too? Or was his voice soft and full of praise as he plowed into your sloppy cunt.

“Oi,” Bakugou shouted across the locker room as Midoriya laced his red trainers. He definitely couldn’t shower here, not now. He had to make it home— looking up to see Bakugou standing there with a towel slung low on his hips, a smirk on his face as he held his phone in the air. And Midoriya noticed he was on video chat with you, wondering whether Bakugou was talking to you while he was in the shower— “She said she wants to play your nasty little game, Deku.”

And here Midoriya was, not even forty-eight hours later. Sitting at the foot of your bed while Bakugou split you apart on his cock—

“She didn’t believe me when I told her, you know.” Bakugou sneers, a warm palm cupping your jaw to direct your debauched face to his friends green gaze, “Couldn’t believe that precious little Deku would be such a sick little freak.”

[b00tyliciousbabe]

da vinci

pairing: dacre montgomery x male reader

summary: just the actor fawning over the abundance in your cultural capital.

request: @gayaristocrat YOU ARE THE VISUSLS BBY! thanks sm for your patience, plus the anon who also requested a while back, i hope you enjoy reading as much as i did writing.

notes: happy pride! after FINALLY handing in my art coursework, this is my projection onto the character of the reader. never will i ever pick up another paintbrush - well…also officially finished my exams now so i am a slut for y’all’s requests! flood my inbox (but more importantly my hole) xx

song rec: naomi sharon - definition of love

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dating dacre was nothing short of a dream. he always made you feel so at ease. he loved how creative you were - the perfect match to his inner theatre kid. taking him to fashion exhibitions + poetry slams, and the actor inviting you to theatre shows, seeing the world through each others’ eyes made the time together even more precious. you first met at a ballet show. he had been dragged to see it by a few of his castmates, but was more so enjoying the bts view of you with the dancers. you were backstage fitting all the dancers and making sure they were all comfortable in what you styled. he managed to peek behind the curtain and saw your beautiful, so focused on draping the fabric of the lead’s skirt.

fuck, you were fine.

but he didn’t think much of it, just some cute guy, with beautiful eyes, who probably had a boyfriend. he took his seat and watched it with his friends. one of them was engaged to one of the dancers and so took dacre to the dressing rooms after the show. after introducing the two of you, y’all were practically drooling over each other. barely a word was said between you, but your hearts’ communicated greater feelings than mere speech ever could. they say love at first sight is something for the big screen, but your initial encounter rivalled the biggest stories of romance any writer could ever craft.

from that night, you practically were together, with the tabloids plastering the two of you holding hands, yachting in capri. the pop culture side of twitter was OBSESSED with your relationship to the actor and was in constant awe with how perfect you guys were for each other.

y/nsupremacy: you guys make my heart smile

user111: they’d make such cute babies

dacrefanclub6: sexiest couple on the internet

there was even a time where he had to do a nude scene in an upcoming blockbuster and the whole world saw how much your man was packing. in his press tour, the panel of interviewers didn’t shy away from your bf’s HUGE deal, some even made inappropriate comments.

‘god bless bottoms like y/n, he be taking that shit better than a pornstar’

‘poor y/n, how does that thing even fit?’

‘checks out…big booty bitches y/n deserves to be fucked by hung men.’

dacre was afraid that you would feel uncomfortable with the constant media comments on your thickness, but he had nothing to fear. you embraced it, you were said to have the best bod in fashion. as much as he tried to keep his life with you private, he lowkey wanted to let the world know that how much of a good boy you were for him.

dacre: ‘in all fairness i ain’t had any complaints from him so…’

dacre: ‘but…our neighbours definitely hate us.’ he remarks with a devilish grin.

everyone was rooting for your relationship, and what better way to show this than him enlisting the joint troops of your fandoms to surprise you whilst you were working in paris. he had gotten some time away from filming and decided to come and visit your atelier in paris. sprawled out on your desk, with needles and materials adorning the creative canvas of the room, he saw you hard at work. with the same vein poking through your forehead as the first time he laid eyes on your angelic physique, he could’ve fallen in love all over again.

‘hey babe’ he came up to you with flowers. ‘you look ravishing tonight’ rolling his r’s with a tenacity that made you smile. his tone always made you feel so safe.

‘i ain’t even dressed yet,’ you protest, dusting off the loose threads and sequins from your sweats. ‘you’re beautiful in whatever you wear,’ coming closer and gripping underneath your butt, ‘even prettier with less on.’ dacre quips as his lips tickle your ear.

‘dacre stop,’ you laugh out. ‘that giggle of yours is so infectious.’ he crashes his lips into you, the flowers dropping haphazardly onto the desk as he pushed his tongue deeper.

he was wearing the blazer you had designed for his birthday last year, paired with a pendant necklace with the first initial of your name on it. he looked so sexy. ‘can’t seem to keep my hands off off of you.’ he breathed, nudging his jacket off.

‘nuh uh, we have dinner reservations.’ nudging him away.

‘fuck. why’d you gotta be so damn sexy?’ he sounded aggravated but you pecked him again, ‘don’t worry, i am all yours tonight.’

taking you to the balcony of a quaint, parisian bistro, the chill of the capital’s air made the two of you even more enamoured, your hearts burning passionately. whilst eating, you got some sauce on the corner of your lips, as he pushes it back into your mouth. ‘gotta get you used to the feeling of a foreign object in your mouth before tonight, don’t i?’ dacre always loved being dirty in public and you made sure to satiate his exhibitionist kink.

after many glasses of wine, you made your way to the louvre. with your many contacts you managed to snag an after hours tour - solo. you were much more of a lightweight than your boyfriend (the man could drink like a pirate and be even more chipper than before) and you couldn’t walk in a straight line for more than a few metres. he let you go so he could see your figure and admire it from afar, but as soon as he saw you stumble, dacre’s hand on your waist guided you to safety and sobriety.

y’all ran throughout the museum, finally landing and kissing in front of the mona lisa. it was such a picturesque moment. the taxi ride back to the hotel was such a fever dream, y’all were all over each other, your chauffeur knew well to close the barrier and give you two some alone time.

‘have i ever told you how beautiful you are?’ he says slurring his speech.

‘tell me again…’ you implored.

‘the most beautiful boy in the world.’ he reassured, pulling you in as the city of paris lit up, illuminating your eyes.

you called him an ‘eager beaver’ as dacre stumbled the two of you into the hotel you were staying at. he grunts between kisses,‘you know you love me.’ serving you with another peck. he stripped your clothes as you followed suit with his own, leaving a chasm of fabric in the corner of the room.

only your shared jewellery was left to remove. you fell back seductively onto the mattress. as dacre crawled on top of you with a dark lust growing in his eyes, you pulled him by the pendant around his neck.

the muscular man laid atop of you, placing each hand on the bed at dip of your waist, using his palms as a fulcrum to steady himself. you glanced down to see the light reflecting off his abs as they danced on the curves of your body.

‘you’re so beautiful.’ he whispered, kissing your cheek and cupping your face.

he lifted himself from your figure, grabbing your thighs and placing your feet at either side of his head.

kissing your legs softly ‘so fucking soft.’ he moaned into your skin. his dick was throbbingly red, precum glazing his cock as he slowly thigh fucked you. he folded his arms around your plush knees, and kept that pace, your fingers grazing his cock head each time it escaped the warm walls of your inner thighs. to your annoyance, he kept this up for what felt like forever. halting, you felt his rock length graze your hole.

‘dacre, put it in already!’ you said with overstimulated passion, earning a snicker from your boyfriend.

knowing that you were beginning to grow impatient, he caresses the flesh of your abdomen. ‘look who’s eager now?’ he smirked.

shut up,’ stroking his happy trail with an endearment. you looked up at him and bit your lip. ‘I need you, please.’ his mouth agape at you ‘of course baby.’

he laced his fingers into yours. rocking slowly into you. his huge dick stretching you out slowly as the the dimly lit room made his ash blue eyes appear dark with lust.

‘fuck, have i missed this pussy’ rhetorically muttering. dacre began whispering sweet nothings into your ear:

‘you’re doing so well.’

‘taking it like my good little boy aren’t you?’

he made you so hot. lifting himself onto his toes, he angled himself directly into you, placing his entire weight on you. fucking down into your hole, your boyfriend was hitting nerves that had been neglected in his absence.

your sphincter began tightening around him, dacre knew what this meant - your release would soon follow. he started kissing your neck, and circled your left nipple with his thumb, goading your orgasm out of you as he started drilling a bit faster. dacre chased his own high begging you to finish with him whilst slurring his words.

‘take it, baby it’s all yours. UGHHHHH’ he busted strongly inside you. his big balls slapped at your butt one last time, reassuring both of you that he had seeded you deeply. you came all over his chest, as he chuckled.

‘love it when you paint me, that’s that sexy shit i like.’ he praised giving you an eskimo kiss to calm you from my high.

‘y/n,’ he whispered, big spooning you.

‘what’s wrong baby?’ you sounded concerned, cradling his hand.

‘nothing love, i just,’ he paused hesitantly.

you turned back to face him. ‘what is it? you know you can tell me anything.’

‘I just need you to know how much i missed you,’

‘oh dacre, you already did an amazing job showing me.’ You joke ‘I feel so…enlightened right now.’

he lets out a sad deep chuckle, turning to him and stroking his cheek ‘I missed you too.’

he gripped your waist, taking your words as a source of comfort. pushing his tongue down your throat.

‘ready for round two,’ you say, massaging his dick with your palm, getting him ready.

‘always.’ he affirms, spanking your ass and turning you over. the first round was very much for your pleasure and to let you know that he had truly craved your body.

but seeing your coke bottle body all splayed out for him? it was here that dacre’s beast was awoken.

‘ass up for me baby.’ he said guiding you to a more comfortable position. he massaged your thick cheeks and started eating you out. his large hands looked abysmally small in comparison to how juicy your ass was.

‘I ain’t gonna show you any mercy this time, you know the safe word, but i don’t think we’ll be needing it.’ he muttered, kissing down your spine before impaling you.

‘shitttt dacre, slow down.’

‘shut the fuck up and take that shit like the pretty, little cockwhore you are.’ dacre degraded, knowing how much you loved his dom/aggressive nature almost as much as his softer side.

dacre began going ham on your poor hole. he stood up as he began pulling you into him from the edge of the bed. with one hand crossed against your cheek and the other in his hair, he had to compose himself - else he come to quickly.

he fucked into you at a painfully quick pace, but it felt so good having him take control. dacre slutted you out almost unconscious for a bit and you were brought back to earth as he hit your second hole.

‘fuck baby,’ ‘I will never get tired of that ass.’ he said watching your thickness bounce against his abs. you started becoming more active, pushing back onto him for a heightened pleasure.

‘shake it for daddy, theeeere ya go, that’s MY shit baby. FUUUUUUUCK.’

‘oh god, your dick is so good, dacre.’ you moan out , which is enough to send him over the edge.

he came as your ass halted at his base. tightenibg around him he started breathing falteringly. ‘baby d-don’t do that, shiiiiit.’ he started leaking like a faucet. trying to thrust inside with some rhythm (to no avail), he collapsed on top of you.

‘I love you so much.’ you say breathlessly.

‘the feeling is so mutual babe.’ he kissed into your skin.

‘y/n, you’re so fucking wet,’ he spoke under his breath. still inside that filled pussy of yours, his cum and your slick provided a juicy lubricant. as he pulled out, the cum oozing out of your wrecked hole pooled into his pubes and on the duvet cover. the two of you were completely oblivious to the mess, and cuddled in the filth you’d created - a filth you were looking forward to adding to in the morning.

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tag list:

@gayaristocrat

@ghostking4m

@lysanderplume

[suzukiblu]

Ko-fi thank-you sentences for an anon; a fake cryptid and a real romantic.

“I think I’m gonna try making him a ruby and do that in a trilliant cut,” Superboy says decisively, which isn’t necessarily much progress towards “normal” friend-making but again, Clark doesn’t want to discourage either a hobby or a creative outlet for the kid. Or just literally anything that isn’t about being a superhero, even if the trilliant cut resembling the S-shield and making friends with a vigilante are only sort of “not about being a superhero”. 

Look, the kid’s six months old and was educated by ethically bankrupt scientists and absolutely exhausted grad student interns, absolutely none of whom had either normal childhoods or an interest in instilling any semblance of “normal” in their cloned Superman’s head. Clark’s not going to be picky here, he’s just gonna meet him where he’s at and go from there. 

Superboy has some unfortunate difficulties understanding the difference between celebrity attention versus genuine admiration and things like that, and also an unfortunate tendency towards causing a lot of unnecessary property damage and jumping to conclusions and temper issues, but he tries, and he clearly does think about things. There’s just a lot to figure out in the world, and he’s had to do it in speed-run mode and while being an active superhero. 

Really, Clark thinks the kid’s doing a lot better as a superhero than he would’ve done at his “age”, and he’d actually been that “age”. Superboy is frankly just about the best-case scenario that could’ve come out of a situation like Cadmus and also mercifully only seems to be minimally traumatized by the sorry excuse for a “childhood” he was provided, so . . .

“That sounds nice,” Clark says, smiling at him. “I’m sure you’ll do a good job with it.” 

“I’m gonna do a good job with it if it fucking kills me,” Superboy says, looking determined, which seems like a lot of intensity to put into making a gift for a friend, but again: six months old and educated by ethically bankrupt scientists. Clark is going to stick with the “meeting him where he’s at” approach. 

“Just do your best to start, maybe,” he says wryly, reaching over to pat the kid’s shoulder. Superboy grins at him, his expression turning pleased. 

“I will!” he says. “Wanna see some of the test ones?” 

“Sure,” Clark says, figuring Superboy will just–

Nope, no, Superboy just immediately stuck both hands into his jacket pockets and came up with two big fistfuls of a good dozen high-quality diamonds done in trilliant cuts. Very large diamonds. 

Heavens to Betsy, Clark thinks a little faintly. That is . . . that is so many diamonds for Superboy to just have in his pockets. They weren’t even zipped shut! They weren’t even buttoned! 

Superboy lays his series of diamonds all out in neat little rows on the ledge, because there are enough of them to require multiple rows, and then reaches back into his pockets for a few more, because of course there are more. Clark continues to feel vaguely faint and has absolutely no idea how to point out how much money this is. Even at lab diamond rates, this is so much money. Just–so much. 

At this point in his life Clark has seen entire planets made of diamond, mind, but he still grew up in smalltown Kansas as a farm kid, so there’s something about seeing quite this many virtually flawless ones just laid out on a Metropolis rooftop the same way he would’ve shown off his POG collection to his friends as a kid. Even the damn cuts are just shy of perfect. 

Well, at least Superboy’s enjoying his first hobby, he supposes. But also, Jesus H. Christ.

“They look good, kid,” Clark says, smiling at him encouragingly. No need to take the wind out of his sails, obviously. Though seeing them now, it does occur to him to wonder–“Where did you get the tools?” 

They must be good ones, because honestly he really wasn’t expecting results this good–or even half this good–from a six month-old teenager. Superboy could definitely ruin De Beers’s day with those.

Or their industry, again. 

. . . well, it is De Beers, so . . . 

“Oh, I don’t have any,” Superboy says, shaking his head. “I just use my TTK.” 

Clark . . . pauses, for a moment. 

Clark pauses for a long moment. 

“Tactile telekinesis can cut diamond?” he asks carefully. “This precisely?” 

“Yeah!” Superboy beams proudly at him. “Cool, right?” 

Clark looks very, very closely at the diamonds. The cuts on them are practically atom-sharp. 

Alright then, he thinks to himself even more carefully.

[starrenati]

So I did some more. Again. I don't know how but sure did. Also wanted to share that this ff doesn't have a name for now and the doc I write in is just called "LFG ff". Thank you for your attention.

Chapter II

"Fate likes cruel jokes"

“What are you doing, bub?”

She almost fell, hearing a familiar voice. her grip on the bars loosening a little. She had to swat the air a few times and test her leg strength to get back into a sitting position. Alice glared at Logan, who was just standing there with his arms crossed over his chest. Of course he was close enough to catch her, in case she wouldn’t manage to save herself in time. 

“Are you fucking crazy? I could’ve fallen!”

“Language, young lady. And I’d catch you in time if you didn’t do that in time.” 

She rolled her eyes, getting off of the railing and now standing on the ground, still eyeing Logan with feigned anger. She couldn’t really stay mad at him for too long in that case. Somehow, he had a better grasp of her struggles than for example Wade. Why? Hard to tell. Logan wasn’t exactly the type of person to just open up and talk about his feelings or even just thoughts. 

“ So? Care to answer my question or you’ll continue on with the silent treatment?” 

He asked, raising his eyebrow. He had his guesses about what was happening yet again. 

“ Thinking. I was just thinking. And you interrupted me. Which is rude and very annoying. You should apologize and move on. How did you even know I was there? Who told you? Wade?”

Yeah, that was definitely it. Judging by how much she was speaking, the speed of her speech and amount of unnecessary words, everything fit right in place. 

“ Yes, Wade told me that you left the flat, high out of your mind, not telling anyone where you’re going. And I know you always come here when this”  he lightly tapped her forehead “ happens.” 

She only grumbled in reply, taking a half step back. Of course she didn’t want to talk about it. It was like a never healing wound. Bothering her in every possible way, hurting and bleeding from time to time, for years now. A curse. That much she could agree on. Anyone who was a telepath, ever, was cursed with a gift that takes more than it can actually give. Alice turned her eyes away, looking at the very few cars that passed the bridge. It must’ve been getting late then. Only now she felt the cold wind sink deep into her skin, reach her bones and send a chill through them. Making this whole experience even more unpleasant. Suddenly the world was real and she hated it for it. 

“ C’mon, “ he placed a hand on her shoulder, giving her a slight push in one of the directions “ let’s get inside the car. We can talk there.” 

This time she didn’t protest. Just followed his lead to a car, the cheap car that will soon probably fall apart. Was this fate meant for all of them in different ways? Each and everyone of them was a mix of pieces that were falling all over the place, held by some cheap tape. Even the dog. Maybe she would’ve found this hilarious if she would’ve still been high, but it was passing, making everything around worse and worse with each passing moment. She would’ve handled it a lot better, if the voices would finally shut up, but she was already greeted by the shriek of her mind, piercing right through her, yet she didn’t show any signs. Already used to that torture.

 She followed Logan into the car, sitting in the passenger seat and buckling her seatbelt. It was a habit by now, to make sure that if she falls out, it’d be at least with this damn seat. Nothing like a concept of comfy death. He also got in and started the car again, the soft hum of the engine filling her ears, slightly soothing the chaos in her mind. The scenery outside, so well known, yet now even more important. Each lamp, every rusty piece of railing, every painted line and the black asphalt. Simple things that looked so much different from this perspective, much less real and much more blurred. 

“ You promised you won’t smoke again.”

His voice echoed somewhere in the back of her mind, when he finally spoke up. Instead of answering she just reached out to turn on the radio. Random station and everything. Just something noisy enough to let her surface from the mess of thoughts in her mind. He sighed but didn’t push. They had time. She can talk later. 

Soon they passed the bridge, now being outside the city. The scenery filled with more and more trees, away from civilization. Now, all that was left was to go to their spot. Where many important talks already took place, many heart to heart shares of memories and troubles. The trees there already know their stories, at least the most important bits of them. After all it’s been years from that simple “Hi” that passed his and Wade’s mind one day and started all that. All this mess of yet another broken person to share their life with. However, Logan would never complain about it… Well, he maybe did but never really meant it. 

Car was filled with well known sounds of the song “Somewhere only we know”. Alice smiled a bit at the irony of the world and fate once again. Nothing happens without a reason, right? So maybe it was meant to play all along? Maybe it was supposed to be like this? Maybe the scolding was written in the stars for her long ago and there wasn’t really a way to escape all that? Why was it still heavy on her mind? The way this world works and the cruelty of fate, that definitely likes to play with people. To show them happiness just to forever tear it out of their hands and leave them hopeful but miserable. All you have left is hope, but what happens when you lose it? 

Her mind got pulled away from those thoughts, when the car came to a stop again. The clearing on a cliff. Not that far away from the city, yet far enough to feel free and sort of alone. 

“ So, again, you promised something.”

“ I know. But I had to. It got too loud, I didn’t know how to stop this anymore. I think it’s the loudest it's ever been… It’s painfull. And I have to go to work on Monday so I can’t be a walking zombie.”

“ So you decided to get high? Very reasonable. Really.”

“ Okay, sarcasm king, I know it makes no sense actually.” 

She muttered, her eyes focused on the outside still. Making out shapes of bushes and flowers in the darkness. Alice was feeling lost. It wasn’t only about the pain. It was also about how unfair it was, feeling cornered by her own mind, with no sensible way out. Like her fate was to be destroyed or destroy herself on her own. 

“ I’m jealous of normal people, you know, Logan?” She whispered, her voice barely coming over the songs from the radio. “ I wish I could just go one day with a silent mind. Without hearing thousands of things in it constantly, without having to pretend I’m all fine…”

Something was about that spot, about how it was making her so vulnerable without an issue. Just like that pushing her over that emotional edge. Tugging at her heart in all the right ways to make her believe that saying all that, out loud, would fix anything and everything. Somehow.. 

“ You remind me of someone…”

“ Charles? You used to tell me many stories about him, the great telepath and such, but how are we similar? You’ve never said about his struggles. I mean with the school and such, yes, but not with… With the thing.”

She looked at him, and he could sense that silent begging for any reassurance. For any way to prove that she wasn’t the only victim of her mind. That it wasn’t only her that suffers so much everyday. 

“ It was backfiring at him as well, something about his meds so he could walk, but wasn’t able to use his telepathy anymore…”

And that hope was gone. It was different for her again. She couldn’t stop this or trigger it. It was part of her. That pain was an inseparable part of her being it seemed. 

“ So it’s way different… If I could do anything to make it stop, I would, but I can’t. That’s the problem Logan. I can’t. I just can’t. It’s all the time under my skull, like I have a hive of pissed off bees in there, few of them even. Rushing all the time, buzzing, making it insufferable. And I have to act. I have to be fine. I can’t just pop a pill and call it a day. I tried. I was taking antidepressants, I was taking meds like a crazy person, it probably destroyed my body beyond repair with how much of them I took and it only got worse.. I… I can’t fix this.”

The vulnerability of her voice stung him deeply. The way she was nervously pulling at locks of her hair from time to time, looking somewhere ahead while her reddish eyes filled with tears, how that tone of her voice changed due to a stuffed nose. The shaking of her hands. He could only imagine how it must’ve felt. To be seen as crazy while all you’re trying to do is to survive. 

“I don’t want to suffer like that. “ More of a squeal than actual words. “ I don’t deserve this, Logan. I don’t. I didn’t do anything wrong. At least not to that point. I didn’t.. I really didn’t. I did a lot of bad things but nothing to be like that. To be cursed and damned when I just want to live.”

She was breaking in front of his very eyes. Her voice failed her more and more. Giving out more with each passing word. He reached out to her, offering her his arm to lean on. 

“ Come ‘ere…”

He didn’t know what to say. How to soothe her for now, so that was all he could do. Let the words fall and offer some support. She leaned on him immediately. Her body was shaking as she clenched her fingers around his arm, holding onto him as if he was about to disappear. 

“ I’m not a bad person… I’m just human, I’m allowed to make mistakes, so why am I punished like this? Why do I have to be a telepath? Why was I cursed? For what? So I can lose everything and everyone? Why…?”

He gently patted her hair this time. Cruel reality of being a mutant wasn’t leaving anyone, huh? It took her a bit more to regain her breath and just lean on him without a word. She knew he didn’t have the answer she wanted. Alice was never mad at him, it wasn’t his fault. It was never his fault. She glanced at the clock. They should be going back, but at the same time… Staying here was better. 

“ Can we stay for a bit longer..?”

“Sure. As long as you want.”

He saw it helped. A lot. So now he just keeps his arm around her shoulder in hopes that it helps a bit, distracts her mind enough to at least not hurt her anymore. Because, what we are without hope, right?

[vinvantae]

Would you be up for more scotty x daniel x reader? I feel like they are such a funny trio😭

I’ve written it as a sequel to Playing Cupid ❤️ hope that’s what you were after! Sorry for the delay, hope you enjoy ☺️

Playing Stupid

It had been a year since you and Daniel had been set up by your best friend Scotty on a blind date and since then you’d somehow become even closer. And, you’d always been aware of it, but wherever there was Daniel, there was Scotty. Their friendship was one of your favourite things about your boyfriend and you more often than not found yourself joining in with their antics.

Poor Chloe

“Scotty! Why have I found 28 miniature ducks around the house?”

You bit your lip to hold back the smile as Chloe came into the living room - her hands cupped together to hold the small pile of yellow plastic.

“…I don’t know what you’re talking about, babe.”

She frowned. “Daniel… y/n… why are there ducks all around my house.”

“We’ve definitely not hidden 100 of them.” Daniel said, as straight of a face as he could muster - it didn’t help that you were giggling into your hands.

“What the fuck.” She laughed. “Well that explained why I found one inside the bottle of hand soap.”

You wanted to tell her, you wanted to say you’d only hidden 99 but the three of you had spent so long placing them that you didn’t want to ruin the fun. And as time went on Chloe had started lining up each duck she found on the coffee table, a small army surrounding the coasters - a questioning brow raised by guests but not a word spoken as they knew just what kind of nonsense Scotty frequently got up to.

When you returned to the James household a few weeks later, the woman in question grabbed your biceps and squeezed. “Where is it?”

“Where’s what?”

“The last duck, y/n. I can’t find the last duck.”

You glanced at Scotty over your shoulder who gave you a pleading look not to say anything. “I don’t know which ones you’ve found, babe, so I won’t know which one you’re missing.”

She whined and smacked Scotty with the sleeve of her sweater. “I’m going to murder you all.”

“Just forget about the duck, babe. We’ve got company.” He hummed, winking in your direction. “Y/n, why don’t you come help me in the kitchen?”

You nodded and followed the snowboarder into the kitchen, placing the bottle of wine you’d brought with you on the counter. “This is going to drive that poor girl crazy, I think we need to come clean with her.”

“I will. Just… one more day.” He smirked. “So, you and Danny still going strong?”

“Yeah, thanks to you. Can’t believe it’s been a whole year.” You smiled softly, taking wine glasses as Scotty passed them to you. “It’s crazy how we could’ve been doing this the whole time.”

“You’re both idiots that’s why.”

You shoved him lightly. “Hence why we needed the captain of the idiots to shove us in the right direction.”

“Got that right, cheers to that.”

The two of you clinked empty wine glasses together before carrying drinks and snacks into the living room - where Daniel was desperately trying to hold in the laughter at the sight in front of him. Chloe was knelt in front of the coffee table showing him the ducks, explaining where she’d found each one. “I’m just missing one. Where did you put it?”

“It’s been weeks, Chlo. I can’t remember where we put every single bloody duck.” He chuckled, as you passed him an empty wine glass.

She groaned and took a glass as well. “The fuller the better, please.”

You shot Scotty a look. The poor girl was losing her marbles over a mini rubber duck. “Ugh, stop looking at me like that, Mum.”

Chloe’s eyes snapped up from her glass as Scotty filled it. “Where is it, do you know?”

She looked desperately between the three of you, a handful of ducks in the palm of her free hand.

“Listen, babe…” He took her glass from her and knelt down - both you and Daniel were trying your best to hold in the laughter as you knew what was coming next. “There was never 100 ducks.”

“…what.”

“There was never 100. We only hid 99.”

“You fucking assholes! Oh my god!” She smacked him - but she couldn’t help but start laughing. “You guys are so mean!”

“Love you too, babe.”

You and Daniel were absolutely losing it - the look on her face was one you’d remember for a long time and a prank you were sure Scotty and Daniel would be telling everyone and their aunt about. You looked to your boyfriend and smiled, pressing a kiss to his lips.

“Happy anniversary, idiot.”

“Happy anniversary, stupid. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

*************************************

Short and sweet ❤️ this was the fun one to write, thank you for suggesting it!

[writingreadinglurkingandsmirking]

The Greatest of Luxuries - Sarah Cameron x Reader

Dear Reader Duology: Part 1, Part 2

Summary: Your relationship with Sarah isn't new. Far from it. You love your girlfriend more than anything, just as you know that she loves you. But this new trend of her being almost...embarrassed to be around you? That is new. For fuck's sake...she dropped your fucking hand.

Word Count: 3.7k+

TWs/CWs: She/her pronouns used, adult/profane language, descriptions of relationship issues/relationship deterioration, mentions of a sick family member (not super specific or drawn out)

Note: I had to just throw this out there and be done working on it so sorry if it's bad lolz. Part 1 of the Sarah Cameron installment of the Dear Reader duology series I have going on here on Tumblr. I was inspired to pick this back up because I saw Ms Swift last weekend and was reminded how much I love Dear Reader. Plus, it's pride. So go lesbians, go. Part 2 of Sarah's should come up very, very shortly. And if I'm lucky I'll get Kie's out before pride month is over.

Your relationship was not new. You’d been dating Sarah Cameron for over two years now. You knew that your girlfriend cared about you immensely. She’d never been hesitant to show it before. In fact, she’d always been touchy and doting, going well out of her way to make you feel special. The first time that Sarah had kissed you in the middle of the conversation, you felt like the luckiest girl in the world. Truly. And the way that she smiled at you afterward and told you that she thought you’d never be interested? She had you. Hook, line, and sinker. So, in truth, the past two years had been nothing short of bliss. Even when there were rocky times, even when you were fighting, you two were strong together. And you loved her. You really did. More than anything.

So no, the relationship was not new. But this? This…this was.

Over the past few weeks—nearly a month now, actually, when you thought about it—Sarah had been acting…strangely. She was far less touchy, a fair bit more distant, less attentive, harder to get a hold of. In essence, she was displaying the whole arsenal of warning signs that something was going horribly wrong in your relationship. Except you couldn’t place what it was. Couldn’t think even slightly of what could’ve caused it. The first week you convinced yourself that you were crazy…just imagining things. The second week she canceled plans on you twice, citing an emergency with Kiara…who then called you half an hour later asking if you wanted to hang out with her because JJ was sick and she was bored. So, at that point, you knew you definitely weren’t crazy and that she was hiding things from you. It made you physically ill to think about so you pushed it away. You hadn’t confronted Sarah for the lies she’d told the week prior. You hadn’t said anything about you hanging out with Kie the week before when she was supposedly doing the same. You hadn’t even made a comment about how weird she’d been acting. You’d been giving her space like you knew she needed. You’d been letting her breathe, not suffocating her like she so obviously hated in her prior relationships.

But, that all brought you to the third week of this incessant hell. To this week. And you felt like you were going crazy and you couldn’t even say anything about it. The churning anxiety in your gut seemed unending. You were a strong, adult woman. By legal and literal standards you should be able to get through this. Or, at least talk to your friends to get help getting through this. But you were keenly aware that this wasn’t something you wanted to broach. It wasn’t something that you wanted to talk about. That’d make it more real. The last thing you needed was to make this worse on yourself. But, it didn’t matter what you wanted. Because this was starting to take a real, substantial toll on you. You were losing sleep at this point which just felt stupid and you felt like there was no one you could turn to. Your appetite was tanking, your focus was shit. And while normally you’d turn to your girlfriend in times of woe, this time, she was the one causing the upset.

There was no way to win.

Despite this, you did your best to remain as normal as possible when you were around anyone else. From Sarah herself, to your friends, to your parents and co-workers, you made painstaking efforts to appear like nothing was wrong. You knew it wasn’t exactly the healthiest of coping mechanisms to completely ignore the problem. But, it was all you could bring yourself to do right now. The only solace you found was in the back room at your workplace. Your parents were the premier florists in the Outer Banks. Their flower shop was a family business that stretched back three generations now on the island as insane as that felt. Standing in the back, tending to the blooms, and making bouquets were the only times that you felt like you could completely shut down the madness of your brain. Even so, a shift could only last so long. Especially without making other people suspicious of why you were working so much.

After the ten-hour shift you’d been on closing your parents’ shop, you could only be grateful that it was summer, so the sun was still shining pretty damn brightly when you headed out at 8 that evening. You made your way to the apartment that you shared with Sarah, a strange sort of dread pooling in your stomach that you did everything to ignore, and felt exhaustion coil around your very being as if trying to choke the life out of you. You trudged up the stairs, trying to paint on the most composed look you could, and unlocked the door, stepping in.

“Hey,” you heard from behind you as you closed the door. You nearly jumped, startled at the presence, and turned your head.

“Hey, Sar,” you greeted with a half-smile as you skirted around her to place your bag and keys down. You took your shoes off and made to go into the kitchen when you noticed her staring at you. You stopped dead and looked at her. “What?”

Sarah’s face contorted in a grimace for a moment. “Did you forget?” she asked, sounding almost hesitant.

The words felt like a punch to the gut. You took a long, measured breath in and looked at her. “Forget what?” I asked cautiously.

She sighed, looking down. “Never mind,” she murmured.

“No, angel, no. What’s up?” I asked. The words felt forced, exhausted. I felt like I could crawl into a hole and sleep for a year or thirty five and would still wake up tired.

“John B’s party is tonight in less than an hour. We’re supposed to be going together,” she said, staring at her hands as she played with her fingers, avoiding eye contact. “Don’t worry about it. You had a long day. I can go alone.”

That stung even more. “No,” you said immediately, an ugly combination of angry jealousy burning in your stomach at the thought. She’d been spending more than enough time with John B lately, as bitter as it was to think so. The last thing you wanted was a night of her hanging out with all your friends—including her ex—at a party while you sulked at home just because you were tired. “I’ll go with you, Sar. Of course I will. Sorry that I forgot it was tonight. Just been busy.” You ran your hand through your hair. “It’s at the beach right?”

Sarah gave you a bright smile that, for a moment, convinced you things were normal. “Yeah,” she said, nodding. She moved forward and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, body pressed flush against yours. Habitually, your arms wrapped around her kissing her back and hugging her. The pair of you remained in the embrace for a few moments even after you broke the kiss. You could hear the smile on her voice as she spoke again. “Thanks for coming. Feel like we haven’t been able to do anything in forever.”

“Yeah,” you said, struggling to keep your voice from cracking. “I know.” You inhaled shortly. “Of course. I’ll go wherever you want me to. Okay?”

“I love you,” she said, reaching a hand up to trace your cheekbone delicately. She looked into your eyes and you, again, remembered why it was so easy to love Sarah so goddamn much. You gave her a half smile and broke away, knowing that the longer she looked at you the more likely it’d be that she’d see just how upset you were. “Hey…you okay, peach? Something wrong?” The nickname made you nauseous. And if you had less control over yourself, you were sure you’d have already devolved into tears.

“No, I’m okay,” you denied, shaking your head. “Just gotta get changed.”

Sarah frowned. “You sure? You’ve been quiet this week,” she said.

You nodded again, resisting the urge to laugh at the hypocrisy of that statement. She’d have to have been around more to know if you’d been quiet that week. “I’m sure, Sarah,” you assured her, tone falling just a touch flat. “Just been busy, that’s all. And I don’t wanna make us late. So just give me like twenty minutes to clean myself up.”

To her credit, at this moment, Sarah was being her normal self. Her attentive, doting self. The self that had been gone all month. “As long as you’re sure,” she said, sounding unsure herself.

Instead of replying, you nodded and fled to the bathroom. And in the bathroom, you spent a few minutes pulling yourself together emotionally before getting your shit together physically so you could leave. And 20 minutes later, after changing into more casual-party-on-the-beach appropriate attire and throwing some stuff in your bag, you were ready to leave.

“Wait, did you eat anything for dinner yet? Do we need to stop?” Sarah asked, pausing as you were gathering your bags.

“I’m set. Why? Are you hungry?” you asked, not glancing back at her as you finished fiddling with your bag.

Sarah paused. “No. I’m okay,” she said eventually.

You looked up again. “You sure, baby?” you asked, reaching out your hand to rub up and down her arm.

At that, Sarah smiled. She melted into your touch a little and nodded. “I’m sure, yeah. John B will probably have something there if we need it. If not we can head out early and grab something,” she said. She gave you a cheesy grin and an exaggerated wink and you couldn’t help but laugh a little. Your heart lightened a bit as you laughed and Sarah practically beamed at the sound that she hadn’t been hearing much of the past few weeks.

You offered her your hand. “Ready to go, love?” you asked her.

She took it. “With you? Absolutely,” she said, squeezing your joint hands.

“Who is actually going, again?” you asked as you got into your car ready to drive over to John B’s where you would park before going to the beach.

“Uhh, the usual. Kie and JJ. Pope and Cleo. John B. I think maybe some other people. Didn’t really ask this time,” Sarah replied, shrugging as she pulled down the visor in the car to adjust her lip gloss. She looked over at you and smiled. “Why? Do you want something bigger? Smaller?”

“Nah, nah, I’m good,” you replied, laughing slightly as you backed out of your spot, starting towards John B’s on the road. “Just curious. Haven’t been able to hang with everyone in a while. Hoping it was gonna be the whole group, is all.”

Absent-mindedly, Sarah reached out and grabbed your hand, nodding at your words. Then, as you began your drive, she began to talk about her day, catching you up on some of the stuff she’d done and dealt with. You listened attentively, feeling some of the stress melt away as you finally got to spend a tiny sliver of alone time with the woman that you loved. It was, for the time being, peaceful. Relaxing. You felt like a calmer, fixed sort of future might be truly possible. The way that she rubbed her thumb along your hand as you held lovingly onto each other. The way that she looked over at you with a soft, adoring expression. The way that she leaned over and casually fixed a piece of hair that had gone rogue from how you’d styled it earlier. All of it was the Sarah that you knew and loved.

Even as you parked the car, you felt like you could’ve been floating on Cloud 9. When you parked and got out of the car, Sarah came quickly around the car, all but pressing you against the door to kiss you breathless. She then dutifully smiled, fixing the lip gloss that she’d transferred over to your lips, then hers again. After that, with a cheeky grin on her face, she linked hands with you again and started pulling you towards the beach. You walked in amiable silence from John B’s property line all the way to the edge of the beach. As you breached the tree line you could see your friends all sat around a bonfire that would, doubtlessly, steadily grow throughout the night.

Kie was the first to spot the pair of you, crying out a loud cheer. That prompted all attention over towards you two as you approached. As everyone’s attention turned, Sarah dropped your hand. Not casually. Not unnoticeably. But, she practically threw your hand away from hers and stepped a few inches away. You audibly heard your breath catch in your throat and felt your face fall. The only reason that Sarah didn’t was that she called back an equally boisterous, loud hello. Sarah practically started running towards your friends and you were left to pick up the shattered pieces of your heart and pride that had been scattered together along the sand of the beach from a tiny, stupid fucking action. Largely, the group didn’t seem to notice the way that you faltered. Not at all. But, you could tell that Kie and JJ were looking at you real funny for a moment there.

When you walked over to them, Sarah was already talking to everyone as if she’d been there all night. And she practically threw herself into hugging everyone. JJ and Kie. Then Pope and Cleo. Then John B. It wasn’t hard to guess which one would last the longest. And you hated the way that your brain lingered on the hug between Sarah and her ex. You knew she didn’t have feelings for John B. At least…not anymore. At least you thought she didn’t. Refusing to linger, you pasted a smile on again and greeted your friends too in turn giving short hugs that you excused away by being tired.

As JJ brought you into a hug, one of the last two you were giving one to, he held you for a moment longer. “You good?” he murmured seriously, low so no one else could hear.

“Yeah, J. I’m good,” you replied, tired. You shrugged when you pulled back, not meeting his eye. You knew full well that he’d call you out for lying, regardless of who it was in front of. You pretended to stretch your back for a moment to cover the obvious avoidance and then gave him a lazy grin. “You good, man?”

“Yeah. I’m fine,” JJ said, voice flat and unimpressed. Even without seeing your face, he knew damn well something was really off.

“Hey,” Kie greeted, interrupting before JJ could say something else. She brought you into a tight, warm, lingering hug, refusing to let you pull away. “Haven’t seen you in forever. Where the hell have you been?”

“Flower shop has been busy,” you said, shrugging. “Not gonna leave my parents hanging. You get it.”

“You and those damn flowers,” Kie laughed, hugging you tightly still. You found yourself relaxing into her arms and hugging her tightly back, some of your tension decreasing again.

“I just care about the dahlias,” you joked.

Kie groaned, bumping your hip with hers, loosening her grip just a little while she grinned. “Trust me we know you love your dahlias,” she said.

“Hey,” Sarah said, practically materializing by your side.

You jumped slightly and turned, Kie’s arms falling. Sarah looked unhappy, brow puckered as if she just tasted something particularly gross. You reached out to take her hand and she pulled it back, making it look natural even though everything about the movement was anything but. And you knew it from the way her shoulder jerked, even if her arm didn’t betray it.

“What’s wrong, babe?” you asked her, struggling to keep the hurt from your voice, but miraculously managing.

“Can you and JJ go get some wood for the fire while we start to get it growing,” Sarah requested, a sweet but strained smile on her face.

You raised a brow looking over at the fire. It was blazing strong and high, burning brightly. And there was a small pile of wood next to it too, ready to be thrown in when needed. You felt your heart stutter. You pursed your lips even as you nodded, patting JJ’s shoulder so he didn’t make a snarky comment.

“Yeah, sure,” you said shortly. You craned your head towards JJ. “Let’s go man.”

“I’ll come with you,” Kie said, suddenly, looping arms with both JJ and you before pulling you in the direction of the woods you’d practically just emerged from. You frowned but let yourself get pulled along, a fake smile slipping off your face with each step, leaving nothing behind. When you were a few paces behind Kie looked over at you, and you refused to look back. “What the hell was that about?”

“Nah, what the hell was any of that?” JJ added. “Why is Sarah acting so weird right now? Fuck’s that about?”

“Not a clue,” you replied, shrugging, pulling away from the pair of them to move a few paces ahead. You ran a hand frustrated on the back of your neck then shook your head. “This is so…whatever.” Again, you shook your head and cleared your throat. “Don’t even worry about it. Just some weird shit, guys.”

You saw them exchange a glance out of the corner of your eye, but you steadfastly ignored it, refusing to let yourself even acknowledge it. Deny, deny, deny. That was the ongoing chorus in the back of your head as you kept walking. Kiara said your name in a tone that you were all too familiar with. In a tone that dictated she would get an answer out of you whether you liked it or not. You slowed your steps, hands balled into fists at your side. You turned your head over your shoulder.

“Kiara,” you said, voice cool.

“Talk to us,” she said.

The beeping of your phone from your pocket saved you from having to answer immediately. You shook your head, frustrated, and tore your phone from your pocket, starting to unlock it. “Nothing to say,” you mumbled. Your mother had texted you. Repeatedly. Within minutes. Your eyes narrowed and you then widened as you read the words. “Oh my…” You blinked rapidly at the news.

“What’s up?” JJ asked, sounding deeply concerned at the sudden change in my affect. You didn’t answer, just re-reading the texts over and over and over again, trying to force them to sink into your brain. JJ said your name twice and still you didn’t answer. You felt Kie and JJ both at your shoulder, reading the texts over them.

“Shit,” Kie muttered. “I’m sorry.”

“I gotta go,” you replied, shoving the phone in your pocket and shaking your head.

“Hey, hey, wait,” JJ said, catching your arm. “You good to even drive? Do you want me to run and get Sarah?”

“No,” you said, extracting your arm immediately from his grip. “Don’t ruin her night. I don’t fucking care. I’m good. I gotta go.”

“Do you want us to tell her?” Kiara called as you started to rush towards your car.

“Don’t care,” you called back immediately, body feeling cool.

You got into your car, calling your mom as you peeled off of John B’s property as you started racing towards not your apartment but the ferry. When your mom answered, you heard not a greeting first but her chattering rapidly on the other end of the line sounding exhausted.

“Mom?” you called.

“Honey, you got ten minutes to get on the last ferry of the night,” she replied.

“What happened?” you asked.

“Your aunt collapsed. It’s not looking good,” she said quietly.

You cursed. “I’ll be at the dock in five,” you said. “Are you guys with her? At the hospital?”

“Yeah,” your mom replied. “We’ll see you soon, honey. Is Sarah with you?”

“No, Sar’s not. She’s in the middle of something. I haven’t told her. I gotta go. I love you, Mom,” you said shakily.

“Love you too. Drive safe,” she said firmly. You could tell there would be more questions in the realm of Sarah later, but you knew that your aunt would take precedence. You shook your head and started driving, hands shaking even as you held the wheel in a death grip. Your phone started to ring again. And on your car’s dash, you saw Sarah’s name and contact picture show up. You shook your head and declined the call, immediately putting your phone on airplane mode for the moment.

By some sort of miracle, you got to the dock in time and got yourself a ticket before the boat left for the mainland. On the boat, you turned off airplane mode, switching it to Do Not Disturb, making it so that none of your friends could contact you. So that Sarah couldn’t contact you. As you did so, you got rid of the notifications that remained. The last was a double text from Sarah.

My love, you’re scaring me. I hate to think that you’re out there overwhelmed like this and that you’re alone.

Please talk to me, peach.

You loved her. You did. You loved her more than anything. But the past month had been too much. And if you weren’t enough for her anymore like her actions had been suggesting? Well, then this was a good excuse to get the fuck out of the Outer Banks and get your head back on straight. To figure out what you want if things aren’t going to work out with her.

All you could do was take out your phone and fire off a single text of your own. To Kie, not to Sarah.

Tell her not to come.

You put your phone away.

You’d waited all month for Sarah to talk to you. It was her turn to wait now. Your family would come first. And if that meant that your relationship would end? If that meant that you’d be the one in the wrong? Then whatever.

Deny, deny fucking, deny.

[allmoshnobrain]

Hi love!! Since requests are open, can I request Cronos trying to out-drink the reader but she manages to out-drink him and he’s super impressed? Thank you!

🌻🌻

𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐝 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

cronos (venom) x fem!reader | word count: 2,6k | requests are open! send yours here

“Yeah?” he chuckled, seemingly unfazed by your annoyance. “Why don’t you prove it then, love?” Oh, you thought. He’s not the type who likes being challenged. Somehow, that information piqued your interest. You looked at him, your eyes meeting for a moment as the smile on his lips grew a bit more mischievous; was he playing with you?

✦ on this fic: cronos (venom) x fem!reader, language, drinking

✦ a/n: i've been DYING to write for cronos for a while and i'm glad i finally did! this was such a fun request and honestly i'm kind of in love with him on this one lol i may make this an au bc i already have a few ideas for future parts so requests and suggestions are appreciated. hope you guys like it! ❤

You had to admit; going back home from uni for your first holidays felt a bit weird. 

Not because anything had changed back home, but because you felt like a totally different person than you were just a few months ago, before you’d left. Plus, bringing your best mate Laura to meet your family had to be a bit unusual, right? But Laura’s parents were too busy traveling the world without her again, so you just had to do something. That’s just how you were.

Of course, being home meant one thing: dealing with your older twin brother, Philip. Which wasn’t all bad, except for that lovely old rivalry that made you compete over pretty much everything. You just hoped the days at home would be a nice mix of peace and fun. You needed a break, after all.

You should’ve known it wouldn’t be that simple.

“Hey, there!” your brother called out as you walked in, a half-empty beer bottle in hand. You could hear the TV blaring from the living room, probably a sports match. “Was starting to think you wouldn’t show up.”

“Yeah, our bus got delayed,” you said. “This is Laura, by the way,” you added, pointing to your friend, who gave your brother a shy smile. You frowned, noticing Philip seemed to be home alone. “So, where’s Mum and Dad?”

“Oh, they haven’t told you? They’re on a business trip, but they’ll be back by Monday,” Philip said casually, and you sighed. Well, they could’ve mentioned it, but Monday wasn’t that far off. It was Saturday morning, so you’d only have to wait two days to see your parents again. “They asked me to tell you to ring them as soon as you got home, though. I’ve got their hotel number.”

“Okay, will do. Just let me and Laura take our bags upstairs and change into something more comfy.”

“Oh, and…” Philip hesitated, and you looked at him, an eyebrow raised. You just knew when your brother talked like that, it meant trouble. “Uh, I’ve invited some of the boys over today for a small, like, party? If that’s alright.”

“Phil, what the hell? A party?” you exclaimed. “Have you told Mum and Dad?”

“Course not,” he snorted. “Come on, it’ll be fun. You and Laura can join in. I told them I’d have some hot birds over anyway.”

“Oh, fuck off,” you shoved him softly before heading for the stairs. “I’m not cleaning up any of your mates’ mess, you hear me?”

“Love you too,” he yelled as you walked upstairs. You rolled your eyes, and Laura giggled.

“What?” you asked, and she shrugged.

“You two are cute,” she smiled, and you huffed. “So, guess we’re having a party tonight, then?”

“Looks like we’ve got no choice,” you mumbled.

“Come on, it’s not like you don’t enjoy a good party yourself! It can’t be that bad, can it?” she tried to cheer you up. You sighed.

“Ugh, it’s just… I was expecting to get home, see Mum and Dad, maybe watch some chick flicks and eat some ice cream. Not to have loud music and drinks all night. I’m still knackered from our last pub crawl, alright?”

“Alright, grumpy,” Laura chuckled. “You should definitely grab something to eat. I know a hungry girl when I see one.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled. You knew Laura was right — you were knackered, but after a hot shower and some food, you’d probably get excited about the party later. Even though your brother’s friends were… chaotic, at best. Phil worked at a small music venue across town, so most of his friends were into the music scene in some way, which made for quite the interesting crowd.

The day flew by, and before you knew it, people started showing up at your place. You and Laura were finishing getting ready when you heard the familiar sound of distorted guitars coming from downstairs. You should’ve known a party with Phil’s friends would be a heavy metal one.

“What’s that racket?” Laura asked, looking shocked by your brother’s musical tastes, which made you chuckle.

“Heavy metal. Phil’s a fan, you know,” you said, focusing on finishing your eyeliner. You watched Laura’s reflection as she rummaged through her luggage. “Hope you like Iron Maiden.”

When you finally got downstairs, the house was already packed. You sighed, biting your lower lip softly as you searched for your older brother in the growing crowd. If he was going to throw a party on your first day back from uni, you hoped he at least had the sense to get you something to drink.

You found him in the kitchen, laughing loudly with two guys you’d never seen before. One was blonde, with a mustache and a cigarette in hand, while the other was this tall, dark-haired guy with massive arms, leaning against the wall. He looked up when you walked in, and your eyes met for a brief moment, but you ignored him, heading straight for your brother.

“Oi, fuckhead,” you called out, and Phil raised an eyebrow. “What kind of party has no booze?”

“Oh, so now you’re in a partying mood?” he grinned. “Course we got drinks. You think we’d have a party without any booze, especially with this lad?” He slapped the dark-haired guy’s shoulder, who chuckled, his eyes meeting yours for a moment again. “He’s the biggest drinker I know!”

“You’re joking, right?” Laura cut in, and Phil looked at her, raising an eyebrow. “You’re saying he’s the biggest drinker you know when your sister’s right here?”

“Laura!” you exclaimed, feeling your cheeks flush.

“What? You’re the biggest drinker I know, no contest. No one can compete with you at a party, girl.”

“Nice to know that,” Phil said, and you looked back at him, seeing a cheeky smile on his lips that made you huff and roll your eyes. “I wonder what Mum and Dad would think of that, eh?”

“You’re not telling them, unless you want me to spill about your little party,” you grumbled.

“Yeah, well, I’m not telling them because I don’t believe it,” he teased. “No way you’re a bigger drinker than Cronos.”

Cronos. That was a curious name, but you figured it had to be a stage name, right? No way someone would actually be called that. You bit your lower lip, frowning. With the way Phil was sucking up, you knew the guy had to be someone important, at least in the metal scene. Maybe he was a musician? He definitely looked the type.

“Come on, mate,” the dark-haired guy, Cronos, finally spoke, a small smile on his lips. You could tell he was loving the attention your brother was giving him, which only made you more annoyed. “No need to put your sis down because of me.”

“You don’t need to defend me,” you blurted out, and Cronos raised an eyebrow. “Phil’s just being his usual daft self,” you looked at your brother, who scoffed at you. “Besides, I’m probably a better drinker than you, anyway.”

“Yeah?” he chuckled, seemingly unfazed by your annoyance. “Why don’t you prove it then, love?”

Oh, you thought. He’s not the type who likes being challenged. Somehow, that information piqued your interest. You looked at him, your eyes meeting for a moment as the smile on his lips grew a bit more mischievous; was he playing with you? 

“Is this a dare?” you asked. 

“If you say so,” he said, his grin widening. 

“Oh, this is gonna be fun,” Laura giggled. “So, are we having a drinking contest or what?”

“Alright,” Phil grinned in that oh-boy-you’re-so-gonna-lose way that always wound you up when he dared you to do something. “I’ll get the glasses and the beer.”

You waited while Phil rummaged around the kitchen for some pint glasses and got everything sorted. You bit your lip, trying to stop the blush creeping onto your cheeks as you felt Cronos’ eyes on you. Maybe you shouldn’t have challenged him — you barely knew the man. But Phil’s endless ways of winding you up made it hard not to. Your annoyance often spilled over onto his loud friends, his loud music, his loud everything. You loved your brother, sure, but sometimes it felt like he still saw you as the shy little kid you used to be.

And you were ready to prove him wrong again.

“Right, here we go,” Phil said, plonking two pint glasses on the table, then cracking open a beer and pouring it into one of them. “How about we bet on who finishes these first? Winner gets, I don’t know, we’ll think about something.”

“Maybe the loser should have to do anything the winner wants,” Cronos suggested, that same cheeky grin on his face. The way he said it made your cheeks burn, and you rolled your eyes as Laura giggled.

“Mate, if you’re trying to pull my sister, you’ll need a better plan,” Phil laughed. “Good luck getting her to do anything after she loses to you.”

“Can you stop talking about me like I’m not here?” you snapped, trying to ignore the heat in your cheeks. “Besides, I’m not losing.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Phil said, waving you off as he finished pouring the beers. “Well, here we go. Grab your glasses, everyone, this is gonna be fun!”

You grabbed your pint glass, feeling the cold against your palm. You knew being the fastest drinker didn’t really mean being the biggest drinker, but you weren’t about to lose to Phil and his stupid rivalry, his stupid parties, and his stupid friends. You wanted to win, to wipe that cheeky grin off his face — and Cronos’ face too. If he thought he could use you for a laugh, he had another thing coming. It was time to channel every bit of determination and experience you’d gained in the drinking department since starting uni and win this.

“Ready… Set… Go!” Phil yelled, and you quickly lifted the glass to your lips. You closed your eyes, trying to down as much beer as you could, as fast as you could. You could hear Laura cheering you on, and, as quickly as it had started, it was over. You slammed the empty glass down, trying to catch your breath as you wiped off some of the beer that had dribbled down your chin, a triumphant smile spreading across your face as you saw Cronos finishing his beer — a good ten seconds after you.

“Ha!” you shouted, looking at Phil. “Told you I’d win! Maybe next time don’t use your mates to try and beat me.”

“Oh, shut it,” Phil grumbled. “Never knew going to uni would turn you into a lush.”

“You’re such a sore loser,” you laughed.

“It’s alright, mate,” Cronos cut in, putting a hand on Phil’s shoulder. He looked at you, the cheeky grin now gone, replaced by an impressed look in his eyes. “Your sister’s cool, you know? Maybe you should be a bit nicer to her.”

You and Phil stared at him, surprised. You could see Phil was also a bit miffed that his friend was taking your side, but hey, you weren’t going to complain when Phil’s antics had been winding you up all day.

“Yeah, whatever,” Phil grumbled and stomped out of the kitchen. You rolled your eyes — he was probably off to sulk somewhere, and you weren’t about to chase after him. Sometimes it felt like you were the older one, not him.

You looked around the kitchen, trying to spot Laura and ask if she fancied going somewhere else — maybe to a pub. But then you realized she wasn’t in the kitchen anymore. Neither was the blonde guy you’d seen around with Phil and Cronos earlier.

Suddenly, it was just you and him.

“So,” Cronos said, and you quickly looked up at him, blushing when he stepped closer. “What do you want me to do?”

“W... What?” you stammered, and he chuckled.

“I said whoever lost should do whatever the winner wanted, didn’t I? You won.”

“I don’t want anything. It was just a stupid game,” you said, and he chuckled.

“You sure about that?” he asked, and you blushed as he took another step. He was tall, much taller than you, and the way he moved nearer made your heart race a bit faster. You’d found him annoying pretty much from the get-go, just like you always did with Phil’s friends, but now that he was closer you could notice the curve of his lips and the way his eyes sparkled with a playful, almost tender glint.

Maybe necking all that beer at once wasn’t the best idea, after all.

“You could tell me your name,” you said, more to break the silence than anything. He blinked, looking a bit confused, and you chuckled nervously. “I mean, is it really Cronos? That’s such a different name.”

“Oh. Oh, no, that’s a stage name,” he laughed. You could see the cheeky grin soften into something a bit more genuine for a moment — still playful, but more real. It made you curious again, wanting to know more about him. “I’m in a band, you know. My real name’s Conrad.”

“That’s a cool name, too,” you said, and he smiled.

“You sure you don’t want anything else?” he asked, his voice almost hopeful, making you blush. Well, you were on your own in the kitchen, weren’t you? For a moment, you wondered what might happen if you asked him to…

No. What the hell were you thinking?

“I’m good,” you mumbled, your cheeks burning.

“Alright then,” he said, and you let out a small sigh as he stepped back. “I’m heading back to the party to grab something stronger. Fancy coming with?”

“Yeah, sure. I need to track down Laura anyway,” you agreed, then paused before looking at him. “Um, it was nice meeting you.”

“Likewise,” he grinned. You felt your heart race when he placed a hand on the small of your back. “Shall we?”

You headed back into the living room, which was now packed. The place was definitely heaving. Cronos gave you a grin before joining his friends, and you scanned the room until you spotted Laura, sitting on the couch with a polite but bored smile while some long-haired guy chatted her up.

“Oh, my friend’s back!” she said when she spotted you. She stood up and linked her arm with yours. “Sorry, I’ve gotta run. Nice chat!” she added, and you bit back a laugh at the look of frustration on the guy’s face.

“You left the poor man hanging,” you said, and she giggled.

“Oh, he started going on and on about his favorite band as soon as I mentioned I didn’t know them,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Are all your brother’s friends like this?”

“Not all of them,” you replied, glancing up to see Cronos laughing loudly with his blonde friend. Laura’s eyes followed yours, and she grinned.

“So?” she asked, her voice full of expectation. “Did you two kiss or what?”

“Did we what? What are you talking about?” you asked, blushing, and she laughed. 

“Seriously, did you not see the way he was eyeing you up? That’s why I left you alone — thought he might’ve tried to kiss you or something.”

You blinked, shocked. It’s not like you hadn’t noticed his clear interest in you, but you thought maybe he was just curious. Curious like you were about him — you could tell he was an interesting guy. But you obviously didn’t expect him to be into you, even though the way he had looked at you while you were alone made your stomach flutter with unexpected butterflies. 

“Don’t be silly, Laura. Of course we didn’t kiss,” you muttered. 

But when he glanced over at you from across the room and your eyes met, you couldn’t help but maybe wish he had.

Wouldn’t be wrong to have just a taste, would it?

[endofradio]

FRAGMENTS OF FEAR — CHAPTER 1: BLUE EYES

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

WARNINGS: n/a

NOTES: pinkie promise there will be longer chapters eventually it’s just my brain has been feeling kinda. Bleh.

SUMMARY: sylvie and frank meet again, but not in the way either of them would’ve expected.

WORD COUNT: 1,336

TAGS: @reclaimedbythesea @shawsfinalgirl @creelmalfoylaufeyson69 @witchy-weve-monbebe @atcarpenter @blackwolfstabs @simpingforclaudette @maggotssmichael

“I’m a human fly, and I don’t know why, I got 96 tears and 96 eyes.”

Sylvie sat cross-legged on the floor of her bedroom, surrounded by a variety of drawing supplies. A Cramps record was spinning on her record player as she spent time with her sketchbook. On her bedroom wall, various drawings and paintings of hers were scattered around. For her, art was a form of therapy, along with writing.

Sylvie had spent the past few years trying to make an effort to rebuild her life, but some nights had been rougher than others, tonight being one of those nights. It started with waking up from a nightmare about her adoptive parents, and from that point on, she was stuck with the all-too-familiar process of dwelling on her past. If she could’ve gone back and changed things, she would’ve. Would’ve, should’ve, could’ve…

When Sylvie thought about her past, she often found herself thinking about Adam. It had been five years since she last saw his face, yet she remembered him very well. She could envision his cocky grin and his cold blue gaze that seemed to see through her soul. Sylvie was not one to forget people who had left an effect on her, and Adam was definitely one of those individuals.

She could just hear his voice — that smart-ass, smooth-talking Queens accent. Every word that came out of his mouth made her just want to punch him. He was a vulgar and perverted son of a bitch, flirting and teasing her even when he had a ring on his finger.

“I’ll let you out early if you give me a little kiss,” he had once said. Of course, Sylvie shot back with a “fuck off.”

As she sat there drawing, she was suddenly hit by a pang of loneliness. In a way, Adam had made her feel more alone than she already did. The attention he gave her — even though it was bad — was still attention, which was something she had never received. Adam was able to see right through her, pinpoint her weaknesses, and figure out how to trigger them. The more Sylvie thought about him, the more she realized that maybe she could’ve been attached to Adam in her confusing way. As miserable as he made her feel, at least he still gave her attention.

Stop thinking about him. Sylvie told herself. Neither of you two give a shit about each other.

As she tried to center her focus back on drawing, Sylvie could only continue to think about how pathetic her own life seemed to her. Here she was, sitting alone in her apartment with no friends and no family, just listening to music and drawing. She stared at what was the current state of her drawing — a shrieking cat with an arrow piercing through its heart. In her opinion, the cat represented her. That was why she drew it.

As Sylvie took out a black colored pencil, her head perked up as she heard a faint noise. Her eyes nervously darted around, only to see nothing. Maybe I’m just hearing things.

She started to color in her drawing, and that was when she started to hear faint footsteps. Why would someone be in her apartment, especially at this hour? There was nobody that wanted to visit her.

Confused, Sylvie slowly stood up and began to quietly walk out of her bedroom, peeking from around a corner. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a figure dressed in all-black. “Who… who’s there…?” She weakly asked.

Fuck. I shouldn’t have said anything.

Quickly, Sylvie retreated to her room, sitting with her back pressed up against the wall.

She looked up and saw the same figure standing in the doorway, but could only see part of the figure's face.

The figure spoke, and Sylvie felt as if she were trapped in another nightmare.

“Y’know, you should’ve left your door locked. Not too smart.”

Yeah, she’d recognize that snide voice from anywhere. She needed to see if she was right, though, as much as she didn’t want to believe it.

“Who… are you…?”

The man pulled down his mask, and Sylvie’s face turned to a whiter shade of pale. “A… Adam…?”

He pulled his mask back up. “Frank.” He corrected.

Sylvie couldn’t comprehend any of this. What happened to him being a detective? What was with the new name? Cop-turned-criminal… the irony.

“What the fuck…” She whispered, feeling her heart starting to race. “What… what do you want?”

“It’s simple,” Frank answered, his voice cold. He took a few steps closer to Sylvie, and that was when she could tell it was him. The blue eyes said it all.

“Don’t fight, and it’ll be over before you can even blink.”

Sylvie watched in terror as Frank reached into the pocket of his black slacks, pulling out a syringe containing a clear liquid. “What the fuck… is that…?” she asked, her voice shaking.

Frank shifted even closer to Sylvie. Standing right in front of her, he crouched down to her level, holding the syringe in front of her face. “Don’t worry. You’ll have a pleasant slumber.”

“You don't have to do this,” Sylvie whispered. She could feel her body shaking like a leaf as she stared at the syringe. “I won’t… I won’t tell anyone.”

“Oh, I have to do this,” Frank responded. “Just shut up, and let me do my job, yeah?”

Before she could say anything else, Frank covered Sylvie’s mouth with a gloved hand, muffling her screams. She tried to escape, but in response, he held her down. “Don’t make this difficult.” He hissed.

As Sylvie saw the syringe come closer to her neck, she quickly grabbed Frank’s arm in a frantic attempt to pull him away. His patience dwindling, Frank aggressively pulled his arm away. “Stop fuckin’ fighting!” He snapped. “I don’t wanna fuckin’ hurt you, Sylvie, but I might just have to if you don’t cut the bullshit.”

Sylvie. Jesus Christ, it really was him.

Then, in one quick motion, Frank stuck the needle into Sylvie’s neck, pushing down the plunger as the tranquilizer slowly entered her system. Slowly, she began to relax, and her breathing began to slow, her vision turning foggy.

Once Sylvie finally slipped out of consciousness, Frank picked her up and slung her over his shoulder, casually walking out of the apartment as though nothing had happened. Dean was waiting in the van, smoking a joint.

“How’d it go?” He asked, a smug grin on his face.

“Fine.” Frank curtly responded. “Open the door.”

Dean shuffled out of the van and headed over to the back, opening the door so Frank could place Sylvie in the back seat. Once she was completely taken care of, Frank went to get in the passenger’s seat, slamming the door shut.

“Start driving.” He muttered, coldly staring at Dean. “We got her.”

“Jesus, man. Are you always in a bad mood?”

Frank rolled his eyes. Yeah, he wasn’t the happiest person, but he also just simply loved telling people what to do.

Once the two arrived back at the mansion, Frank entered as if nothing had happened, carrying Sylvie in his arms to a bedroom where she could rest.

“Uh… who’s that?” Sammy asked, her eyes narrowing in confusion. “I thought it was just one person we were kidnapping…”

Dean shrugged. “Boss-man forgot somebody.”

“But…”

Once Frank found an available bedroom, he walked over to the bed and placed Sylvie down on it in a surprisingly gentle manner. He couldn’t help but look at her for perhaps a little too long, with a whirlwind of emotions and thoughts running through his mind. Maybe it was the fact that he hadn't seen her in five years, but Sylvie didn't even seem real to Frank, even though she still looked the same.

What the fuck am I doing?

Sighing, Frank turned around and left, quietly closing the door behind him.

[comfort-person]

Request: Were YN is madly in love with harry and propose him. Due to some circumstances he rejected her and Later he accepts it.

YN as Harry’s tour assistant

Thank you for this request!! Sorry for taking forever I’ve been on holiday, but I hope this is okay!

Trigger warnings: swearing- but near to nothing

Harry x tour assistant reader

“So what kind of thing were you thinking? America, England then Europe?” You spoke staring at Harry, moving your hands around to get your point across. You did it without even thinking, it was something that was just natural for you: talking with your hands. “I think it would be cool to add in Australia dates as well,” Harry spoke your eyes lingering on his lips as he spoke. You were utterly and completely in love with Harry. You had been his tour assistant for about five months and over those months you had gotten to know him better but also gotten to fall in love with him more and more… you had been bottling up these feelings for him for three months and gods was it becoming unbearable. His sweet lips, his green eyes, his kindness, his humour… fuck… you were obsessed with him. But who wasn’t? This is Harry fucking styles we’re talking about.

A soft hum left your lips and you nodded your head “yeah sure thing,” you wrote a few notes down to discuss with your managers later on “we could even do a wide world tour,” you spoke staring at him with a soft smile Harry’s lips curving up into to a warm smile his dimples appearing making your stomach flutter “wide world sounds good. There’s fans everywhere and you know, the cost of living isn’t exactly helping people buy concert tickets so to minimise that we can put tours all over- Japan, America, England, China, Asia in general, Australia- Everywhere else.” He spoke, this was one of the many reasons as to why you loved him so much and adored him because he spoke in such a beautiful way…. He was just so well spoken and kind and generous. “Okay yeah definitely… so like when you and one direction went on tour yeah? You guys went everywhere. So like that?” Harry nodded a permanent smile on his lips, it would be quite a big budget but you weren’t scared of it. It was going to be exciting to figure something out. Plus you knew it made Harry happy to make his fans happy so either way he was going to be happy and that made you happy. Beyond happy.

“I’ll figure this out with the managers and hopefully it’s successful, if it is I’ll be in contact with you in the next few days,” you spoke “thank you, Y/n I truly do appreciate it.” He reached his hand out towards you and you smiled expecting him to shake your hand but instead he patted you gently on the shoulder making your stomach flutter all over again. You were totally besotted with him. You stared at him with happy gentle eyes a lot of love in your own eyes Harry soon realising you hadn’t stood up “everything okay?” He asked and you cleared your throat “yes yes everything’s fine, sorry,” you chuckled nervously Harry’s green eyes searching your face but before he could’ve even said anything your feelings that you had kept to yourself for months came spurting out of your lips,

“I’m sorry Harry… this is probably really fucking abrupt but… you make me so happy. You’re such a beautiful person and.. I-… I don’t know I just like you… a lot…” Harry’s smile slowly faded, his lips parting in awe before a laugh left his lips yet he soon realised you weren’t laughing, your face was painstakingly anxious and that’s when his smile faded and he stared at you shocked. He didn’t realise you were being serious. He liked you, he did, he really liked you in fact- you were beautiful, someone he cared for and adored but he didn’t think a relationship was the right thing at that present moment especially because of the recent relationship with Olivia… Harry liked to call it a ‘fling’ between them as horrible as that sounded but it was the truth. Harry was the main role in don’t worry darling and Olivia wanted to promote her movie… what better way to promote it than sleep with her new money maker who was easily going to bring her fame and money. Harry didn’t want Olivia to target you and because his relationship with her was still pretty fresh and raw he didn’t feel like it was right to have a romantic relationship with you at that very moment.. sure things could blossom in the future but right now it just wouldn’t be fair on you and although he didn’t say it he cared about you so very much and just wanted the best for you.

“Look y/n you’re wonderful… and I care about you very much but…” he shook his head struggling to find the words. You were a sweet girl and he didn’t want to break your heart. He’d never forgive himself if he ever broke your heart “I just don’t want a relationship at the moment… you’re lovely though and beautiful you are… I’m very uh… flattered? That you think that but I’m just not ready for a relationship.” He spoke carefully and softly, he was usually straight forward but with you he was more tender because he cared so very much for you. You were more than a friend… so much more… yet he wasn’t able to express that at the very moment. Your heart had instantly dropped into your stomach your grip on your notepad tightening and you gulped harshly tears beginning to sting your eyes but you quickly forced a smile “that’s okay,” you let out a soft chuckle attempting to hide the shakiness in your voice but Harry noticed it and it broke his heart “thank you for understanding…” he smiled softly his eyes genuine and apologetic. You slowly stood up “I’ll be in touch soon Harry, have a good rest of your day,” you spoke before quickly leaving your anxiousness only growing yet you quickly forced yourself to calm down… getting rejected was absolutely one of the worst feelings ever. But you respected Harry’s honesty… you respected and were grateful for the fact that Harry was honest with you and didn’t even think to lead you on.

Harry the next few days was overthinking everything. He was thinking everything over and attempting to understand his own feelings and what he truly wanted and after two weeks of no contact from you Harry finally realised that he wanted you. He needed time to think… time to gather his thoughts and finally he had figured out that he didn’t want money, he didn’t want fame, he didn’t want anything…. All he wanted was you. Nothing else, no one else… just you.

And so Harry later on that day went out shopping where he bought chocolates, flowers and ingredients to cook a meal. After that he headed over to your place, and once arriving he knocked loudly on the door- he waited for a while, before eventually hearing the sound of the door unlocking before it was pulled open you coming into view and a warm charming smile formed on Harry’s face “oh.. harry..” you spoke confused, looking down at yourself almost insecure you wore turquoise blue shorts and a random T-shirt yet that soon was the least of your worries as you noticed was was in his hands… flowers… your heart skipped a beat and you gulped harshly “I uh… I just wanted to see whether the offer was still up.” He spoke and you furrowed your brows “the offer for what?” You asked and he smiled softly “the offer to love you.” Those words shocked you your brows raising “to love-“ “I love you y/n. I have done for ages… I just couldn’t tell you right away bec-“ he fell silent as he felt your lips smush against his, his eyes widening slightly at your burst of confidence but he soon placed the bag down keeping a hold of the flowers as he wrapped his arms around you, kissing you back gently but deeply all at once… the amount of love in the kiss being portrayed massively.

The flowers were pressed against your back, his free hand stroking against the small of your back as you melted further into him gripping onto his T-shirt tightly his lips tasting delicious… softer than anything…. Just how you had imagined. Before he eventually pulled back a small smile on his lips and he gazed down at you before lifting his hand up to caress against your cheek stroking his thumb against your skin as he searched your eyes softly and gently “you’re so beautiful y/n… let me cook us a dinner, yeah? Let me make you happy….” A soft grin tugged at your lips and you smiled nodding your head before kissing his cheek before dragging him inside the apartment Harry’s finger’s immediately finding yours, like the last piece of a puzzle finally connecting… it was beautiful.

“Also it’s been confirmed… you can do a world tour…” you spoke smirking at the man you loved Harry’s eyes widening with excitement and happiness “well then…. I suppose I better get a extra seat booked hm?” He spoke smiling and you stared at him with wide happy eyes “a seat booked for who?” You asked gently “for you obviously…. Just for you… you’re gonna be coming on tour with me…” a soft happy laugh left your lips before you wrapped your arms around him tightly and he smiled gripping onto you tightly yet gently “gods I love you..” you murmured softly, it was moving so quickly already but you couldn’t wait… it was going to be perfect… “I love you more.” He murmured pressing a kiss to your forehead “love you most…” you spoke smirking forcing a small scoff out of Harry “please, Y/n… I don’t think that’s possible..” he chuckled out gently tucking a piece of hair behind your ear as he smiled down at you. For once Harry felt as if this was going to be the start of something wonderful…. Something that was going to blossom into something beautiful… maybe it was too soon to admit it but he knew then and there that he was in love with you. Head over heels. He was going to love you forever… he loved your soul, personality and smile… maybe finally he could spend his life with you: the one he loved more than anything.

[husk-not-whiskers]

“Tonight’s gonna be different”

♥️♠️♦️♣️ 🂱 ╰ ─┉─¡! • !¡─┉─ ╯ 🂱 ♣️♦️♠️♥️

Husk nervously went through every suit he boxed up. None of them fit quite right and he couldn’t tell what color they were. Yes, most of his suits were black or grey with orange or yellow accents but he couldn’t tell. When he managed to bring his things over to the hotel he hadn’t had time to mark them.

“Fuuuck” the cat mumbled to himself, “how am I s’posta find somethin’ ta wear?” He dragged his paws across his face, letting them sit over his eyes for a few seconds.

It had been ages since Husk went on a date… wait… had he even dated after he died? How long had it been? Pushing the thought out his mind he returned to the suits.

“I could ask Charlie…?” After thinking about for more than a few seconds he came to the conclusion that Charlie would have a stroke if he asked her for… romantic advice, or any kind of help frankly. And it’s not like he wanted anyone else in the hotel to know he was going on a date with Angel Dust. I mean.. he could always ask the man himself. Even if Angel had more of feminine style, he definitely knew how to dress. If Husk was going to be out in public, which he was, he wanted to look good.

He paced around in his room thinking it over and over. “Angel probably has some kinda fuckn 5 hour long routine if I go and ask em’ for help, he’ll probably fuckn’… fuck somthn’ up” Husk wanted to bash his head against the wall.

“I’ll just wear a wear a fuckn blouse an’ a vest.”

╾┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅╼

Husk wore a white blouse with a waterfall ruffles across the front. The sleeves went out and were a silky texture, if not for the cuffs at the end they could’ve easily drooped to the bottom of his wings. On top of that he had black double breasted vest with three orange buttons and other orange accents across the fabric. It was a slight hint, as if a single spool of an orange was cautiously woven across the very surface. At a glance you wouldn’t notice, but if you were close enough it was something you had to admire. Matching the pockets and buttons his bow tie was also a vibrant orange. (Atleast Husk hoped they were, they looked more like a grayish yellow to him) He finished the outfit with solid black dress pants. His belt was also black, save for the golden clubs and spades across the belt. Husk wasn’t sure if they were actually made out of real gold or not, but they looked nice. Finally he popped on a golden heart and a golden diamond cufflink on his sleeves.

He walked over to the mirror in his room. It was small and cracked. He hadn’t really cared to well… take care of his space or himself. He inspected himself, not a hair was out of place. And he needed it to stay that way. He grabbed a bottle of cologne out from one of his various boxes scattered across his room. Holding his breath he sprayed it on his chest, inner arms and wrists. The smell was strong to him. It overwhelmed his sense of smell, it didn’t matter though. He needed to be on top tonight.

With one final twist and shake he brushed off his nerves and started walking towards Angel’s room

╾┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅╼

Walking to Angel’s room was strange, it’s not like he hadn’t been there before but this time was different.

Husk felt a lot of the same feelings he did when walked to Alastor for help…however it wasn’t complete and utter fear. He was scared no doubt, but there was a touch of joy underneath. Whimsy? No. But there was definitely an excitement to the anxiety.

His heart raced as he prepared to knock on the spider’s door. “One two three four, one two three four…” he mumbled, remembering one of Charlie’s previous exercises. Something about counting to calm you down? He had brushed it off before but it worked surprisingly well.

*knock knock*

With a slight hesitation he said, “Hey Legs, I’m ready whenever you are”

// @angeldust-real

Sorry for making this so long oml I just had to English this. I think it’s like 700 words???

[harry-styles-obsessed]

Were YN is madly in love with harry and propose him. Due to some circumstances he rejected her and Later he accepts it.

YN as Harry's tour assistance

Please x

Thank you for this request!! Sorry for taking forever I’ve been on holiday, but I hope this is okay!

Trigger warnings: swearing- but near to nothing

Harry x tour assistant reader

©️ please do not copy or translate my work.

“So what kind of thing were you thinking? America, England then Europe?” You spoke staring at Harry, moving your hands around to get your point across. You did it without even thinking, it was something that was just natural for you: talking with your hands. “I think it would be cool to add in Australia dates as well,” Harry spoke your eyes lingering on his lips as he spoke. You were utterly and completely in love with Harry. You had been his tour assistant for about five months and over those months you had gotten to know him better but also gotten to fall in love with him more and more… you had been bottling up these feelings for him for three months and gods was it becoming unbearable. His sweet lips, his green eyes, his kindness, his humour… fuck… you were obsessed with him. But who wasn’t? This is Harry fucking styles we’re talking about.

A soft hum left your lips and you nodded your head “yeah sure thing,” you wrote a few notes down to discuss with your managers later on “we could even do a wide world tour,” you spoke staring at him with a soft smile Harry’s lips curving up into to a warm smile his dimples appearing making your stomach flutter “wide world sounds good. There’s fans everywhere and you know, the cost of living isn’t exactly helping people buy concert tickets so to minimise that we can put tours all over- Japan, America, England, China, Asia in general, Australia- Everywhere else.” He spoke, this was one of the many reasons as to why you loved him so much and adored him because he spoke in such a beautiful way…. He was just so well spoken and kind and generous. “Okay yeah definitely… so like when you and one direction went on tour yeah? You guys went everywhere. So like that?” Harry nodded a permanent smile on his lips, it would be quite a big budget but you weren’t scared of it. It was going to be exciting to figure something out. Plus you knew it made Harry happy to make his fans happy so either way he was going to be happy and that made you happy. Beyond happy.

“I’ll figure this out with the managers and hopefully it’s successful, if it is I’ll be in contact with you in the next few days,” you spoke “thank you, Y/n I truly do appreciate it.” He reached his hand out towards you and you smiled expecting him to shake your hand but instead he patted you gently on the shoulder making your stomach flutter all over again. You were totally besotted with him. You stared at him with happy gentle eyes a lot of love in your own eyes Harry soon realising you hadn’t stood up “everything okay?” He asked and you cleared your throat “yes yes everything’s fine, sorry,” you chuckled nervously Harry’s green eyes searching your face but before he could’ve even said anything your feelings that you had kept to yourself for months came spurting out of your lips,

“I’m sorry Harry… this is probably really fucking abrupt but… you make me so happy. You’re such a beautiful person and.. I-… I don’t know I just like you… a lot…” Harry’s smile slowly faded, his lips parting in awe before a laugh left his lips yet he soon realised you weren’t laughing, your face was painstakingly anxious and that’s when his smile faded and he stared at you shocked. He didn’t realise you were being serious. He liked you, he did, he really liked you in fact- you were beautiful, someone he cared for and adored but he didn’t think a relationship was the right thing at that present moment especially because of the recent relationship with Olivia… Harry liked to call it a ‘fling’ between them as horrible as that sounded but it was the truth. Harry was the main role in don’t worry darling and Olivia wanted to promote her movie… what better way to promote it than sleep with her new money maker who was easily going to bring her fame and money. Harry didn’t want Olivia to target you and because his relationship with her was still pretty fresh and raw he didn’t feel like it was right to have a romantic relationship with you at that very moment.. sure things could blossom in the future but right now it just wouldn’t be fair on you and although he didn’t say it he cared about you so very much and just wanted the best for you.

“Look y/n you’re wonderful… and I care about you very much but…” he shook his head struggling to find the words. You were a sweet girl and he didn’t want to break your heart. He’d never forgive himself if he ever broke your heart “I just don’t want a relationship at the moment… you’re lovely though and beautiful you are… I’m very uh… flattered? That you think that but I’m just not ready for a relationship.” He spoke carefully and softly, he was usually straight forward but with you he was more tender because he cared so very much for you. You were more than a friend… so much more… yet he wasn’t able to express that at the very moment. Your heart had instantly dropped into your stomach your grip on your notepad tightening and you gulped harshly tears beginning to sting your eyes but you quickly forced a smile “that’s okay,” you let out a soft chuckle attempting to hide the shakiness in your voice but Harry noticed it and it broke his heart “thank you for understanding…” he smiled softly his eyes genuine and apologetic. You slowly stood up “I’ll be in touch soon Harry, have a good rest of your day,” you spoke before quickly leaving your anxiousness only growing yet you quickly forced yourself to calm down… getting rejected was absolutely one of the worst feelings ever. But you respected Harry’s honesty… you respected and were grateful for the fact that Harry was honest with you and didn’t even think to lead you on.

Harry the next few days was overthinking everything. He was thinking everything over and attempting to understand his own feelings and what he truly wanted and after two weeks of no contact from you Harry finally realised that he wanted you. He needed time to think… time to gather his thoughts and finally he had figured out that he didn’t want money, he didn’t want fame, he didn’t want anything…. All he wanted was you. Nothing else, no one else… just you.

And so Harry later on that day went out shopping where he bought chocolates, flowers and ingredients to cook a meal. After that he headed over to your place, and once arriving he knocked loudly on the door- he waited for a while, before eventually hearing the sound of the door unlocking before it was pulled open you coming into view and a warm charming smile formed on Harry’s face “oh.. harry..” you spoke confused, looking down at yourself almost insecure you wore turquoise blue shorts and a random T-shirt yet that soon was the least of your worries as you noticed was was in his hands… flowers… your heart skipped a beat and you gulped harshly “I uh… I just wanted to see whether the offer was still up.” He spoke and you furrowed your brows “the offer for what?” You asked and he smiled softly “the offer to love you.” Those words shocked you your brows raising “to love-“ “I love you y/n. I have done for ages… I just couldn’t tell you right away bec-“ he fell silent as he felt your lips smush against his, his eyes widening slightly at your burst of confidence but he soon placed the bag down keeping a hold of the flowers as he wrapped his arms around you, kissing you back gently but deeply all at once… the amount of love in the kiss being portrayed massively.

The flowers were pressed against your back, his free hand stroking against the small of your back as you melted further into him gripping onto his T-shirt tightly his lips tasting delicious… softer than anything…. Just how you had imagined. Before he eventually pulled back a small smile on his lips and he gazed down at you before lifting his hand up to caress against your cheek stroking his thumb against your skin as he searched your eyes softly and gently “you’re so beautiful y/n… let me cook us a dinner, yeah? Let me make you happy….” A soft grin tugged at your lips and you smiled nodding your head before kissing his cheek before dragging him inside the apartment Harry’s finger’s immediately finding yours, like the last piece of a puzzle finally connecting… it was beautiful.

“Also it’s been confirmed… you can do a world tour…” you spoke smirking at the man you loved Harry’s eyes widening with excitement and happiness “well then…. I suppose I better get a extra seat booked hm?” He spoke smiling and you stared at him with wide happy eyes “a seat booked for who?” You asked gently “for you obviously…. Just for you… you’re gonna be coming on tour with me…” a soft happy laugh left your lips before you wrapped your arms around him tightly and he smiled gripping onto you tightly yet gently “gods I love you..” you murmured softly, it was moving so quickly already but you couldn’t wait… it was going to be perfect… “I love you more.” He murmured pressing a kiss to your forehead “love you most…” you spoke smirking forcing a small scoff out of Harry “please, Y/n… I don’t think that’s possible..” he chuckled out gently tucking a piece of hair behind your ear as he smiled down at you. For once Harry felt as if this was going to be the start of something wonderful…. Something that was going to blossom into something beautiful… maybe it was too soon to admit it but he knew then and there that he was in love with you. Head over heels. He was going to love you forever… he loved your soul, personality and smile… maybe finally he could spend his life with you: the one he loved more than anything.

[harunade]

ITS ME 💪 ANON, i rarely see this about zb1 but phone sex with hao or hanbin? it’s hilarious cus i think hao would be the one to initiate while hanbin is lowkey strict about things like this.

also just wanted to say i love all your works so far, hope you’re having a good day or night!

hmmm… thinking thoughts,, hao would be one to initiate while with hanbin it would be the other way around

Zhang Hao, who was away for his concert, would be needing you badly. His cock would be hard but he needed to hear you, so he called you. “Hi, baby! I saw the pics from your concert today, and you looked so goo-“ you stopped when you heard a whimper from the other side. “A-Are you okay, Hao..?” you asked worriedly. When you turned the volume higher, you heard whimpers but also rubbing sounds. “Need you so bad… have your panties wrapped around my cock right now..” Hao broke out in a moan. “Oh baby.. you’re so needy.. Do you miss me?” he was so subby that night you wish you could’ve had him under you. :(( “miss you a bunch” you couldn’t just let him like that, but since you couldn’t be there with him the least you could do was guide him. “keep stroking your dick, hao, pretend it’s me” this whole phone call made you extremely wet, as you were desperate for him as well. you then started fingering yourself, and as Zhang Hao heard you moan, he came. “came all over my tummy, do you feel good?” he laughed and brought his attention back to you, who was now whimpering and moaning his name. You managed to get off by yourself as it wasn’t the first time you had been left alone. “just a few more days, princess”

y/n♥️: need you so bad it hurts :(

bin ^_^: are you okay baby???

y/n♥️: *pic* woulda been better if you helped me out

bin ^_^: fuck Y/n..

y/n♥️: call me?

“hi” hanbin said as soon as you picked up. “hey” you answered. “i miss you.. so much” your fingers wandered down between your legs as you heard his sweet voice. “i know baby, i don’t like it when i leave you alone” he could hear the soft thrusting of your fingers as well as your heavy breathing. “y/nie~ you’re lucky the members are out, slut” you smiled at his words. he knows you loved it when he talked you down, and he was definitely doing it to help you. “do you miss me too?” by the sound of him unzipping his pants and whimpering, you assumed he did. “need you on my dick right now, pretty girl” the thrill of possibly being caught just pushed him over the edge more. “got off twice today and my pussy still begs for you cock, bin” hanbin felt guilty about leaving you all alone, but it’s not like you could’ve come with him. “is it better that you’re talking to me right now?” he knew the answer. “definitely, i’m so close, fuck-“ you moaned and he assumed you came. “hanbin” you called out. “yes, baby?” he was stroking his dick to the thought of you humping your fingers thinking it’s him. “ i squirted” that was the only thing he needed to hear before he shot his load all over his screen.

y/n♥️: love u & miss u :(( thank you for tonight heheh

bin ^_^: love you more prettiest :) (i came on my screen btw)

y/n♥️: ur gross

bin ^_^: blocked bye

[thehuntfortrencherlostmedia]

The Mediocre Fairy Tale, Ever After - A Marianas Trench Retrospective

Med… mediocre? Cody…. What do you mean? Ever After is their best album! It’s the album that made me discover the band! How the fuck is it mediocre?

Oh boy. It’s time to get controversial here and to admit my true feelings: I feel Ever After is the weakest Trench album overall. Why? It copies a little too much of Masterpiece Theatre in terms of the tracklist and in this case the second go around didn’t always produce their best work.

This isn’t to say Ever After doesn’t have its moments or even some of the best songs in the bands history. Up until A Normal Life, Ever After was my favourite of the bands openers, immediately setting the fairy tale tone of the album. It’s basically the outline of the story the rest of the tracks will go over in song form, while also the song that places Josh in Toy Land.

Then, we immediately go into Haven’t Had Enough, the first song off this record I ever heard. And I love this song. It always gets me in a good mood… but I did start to notice the lack of rock…

Then we have By Now, which brings in an acoustic guitar & shows how the band could’ve done a more up tempo version of Beside You. This song was a single but feels like it’s both forgotten by the fans & yet also overrated at the same time.

Then we have our first mis-step, the R&B inspired Truth & Dare. While I love how the song is about Josh & Carolina playing Cat & Mouse with one another… Josh has definitely done a better job at this type of track later on. Also… this is when it got me that the album was gonna be very POP focused.

Then we get to Desperate Measures, another song that shows the band knows how to write good radio tracks. The issue is… we’ve focused on Josh & Carolina screwing with one another on the last song. Did we need another going over that Carolina is so desperate for Josh to be her King?

And… well… we have Porcelain next. The first time I heard this… I didn’t get it at all. Now? It’s perfect in its simplicity. This is how you do a good slow ballad with buildup.

BUT… DID WE REALLY NEED ANOTHER RIGHT AFTER?

Fallout. The most divisive track among Trenchers besides maybe Your Ghost? It got overplayed so much that for a few years I couldn’t listen to it. Now? It’s fine. Sadly, Wildfire used the same elements better.

And now… we have our “let’s loosely copy the back half of Masterpiece Theatre for the rest of the album!” batch of tracks.

Stutter takes the swing elements brought up on Sing Sing & amplified them into a very catchy earworm that I adore. The last S tier song on the album.

Toy Soldiers feels very much like it wanted to be a single but the band got cold feet. I feel like the music video for it would’ve been totally zany, much like Celebrity Status’s. Besides that, the two songs don’t have that much in common.

And then we have our Perfect clone, B Team… which is… eh? Josh is finally confessing his feelings to Porcelain after defeating Carolina & she’s unsure about him, given her relationship with the King. I get why it’s here but it feels like cold feet for no real reason.

So Soon meanwhile wishes it was Lover Dearest. Instead, it’s their mopiest ballad & just lacklustre. A true B - of a track.

And then you got No Place Like Home. I don’t think it’s controversial to say this is the bands weakest closer, and that includes both CTM & Fix Me’s closers. They tried to copy the “let’s use elements from other songs” shtick from MT Pt. 3 & NPLH jist doesn’t quite stick the landing for me. It’s a good end to the story as a whole, but one where I go… that’s it?

But here’s the thing: when I’m in the mood to put on Ever After, I love the narrative throughout the songs tell with each leading into the other, pushing the narrative forward. It makes this slightly weaker batch of songs more powerful as a whole rather than separate songs.

It’s also a great record about how Josh is head over heels in love with Amanda despite the obvious road bumps in their relationship that led to utter heartbreak… and longing for childhood nostalgia.

It’s time now, Astoria…

[yunhoszn]

but i like u

pairing kim minjae x f!reader word count 2.8k genre fluff﹒slight angst warnings mature language, camp counselor au, forced proximity lol, enemies to lovers (?), a cliffhanger bc im evil like that

summary despite being calm and collected most of the time, minjae’s patience can’t help being tested when you’re around. what’s he to do when unforeseen circumstances have you stuck bunking together for the rest of camp?

more omg fawn comeback??? and with a xikers fic??? who are they 🫢 LMFAOOOO anyway i had a lot of fun writing this and i have few things planned for the future so pls stick around <3 i would like to once again thank @/bro-atz for enabling my journey into roadyism and also beta’ing this fic and helping me with its development,,, ily the mostest <3

@bro-atz @yessa-vie

as a kid, minjae couldn’t give less of a fuck what others thought of him. 

sure, he appreciated the validation here and there— especially when it was very well deserved— but for the most part, he was content as long as he was happy with himself. if he came in second place for anything, it honestly wasn’t a big deal. if he couldn’t get the hang of something, he’d move on without dwelling on it. he was the definition of nonchalant and carefree; with his picture right next to the word in the dictionary. 

but then he grew up, and he learned that the saint-like patience he wore was actually pretty thin. 

at least that was the case when it came to you, the one person who always seemed to get right under his skin. you didn’t even have to try, you just knew exactly what ways you could irritate minjae— unintentional or not.

the two of you had been camp counselors together for the past three summers, and you were reaching the end of your fourth and final. saying that it was an experience for him was an understatement. he’d spent most of that time competing with you during activities that were hosted and the kids you were tasked with looking over teased you both for your silly rivalry. but he just couldn’t lose to you, especially not this year. he had to go out with a bang. 

“what the hell do you mean i have to share a cabin with her?”

minjae gapes at the camp director, who didn’t seem to see a problem with this unexpected arrangement. she wraps her hair into a bun and sticks her pen through it to hold it in place, shrugging and not at all phased by his reaction. “sorry minjae, but y/n’s was flooded during the storm last weekend and with the amount of campers, we can’t afford to only have one counselor.”

the weekend before, there was a pretty nasty storm and for the safety of the campers, everyone got sent home. today was the first day back. kim minjae didn’t consider himself a bitter person, but the sight of the camp director and her stupid coveralls was pissing him off. why did he have to share his personal space with you? she could’ve easily put you elsewhere, like any of the other ten cabins on the campgrounds. 

“does she know that we have to bunk together?” he breathes, jaw clenching to keep his composure. you were running late, again, so it was just him and the director in her office before the campers arrived. he feels his blood pressure skyrocket when she shakes her head ‘no’. 

“i was hoping you’d break the news to her. what better way to bond with your new bunkmate?” she smiles and ruffles his hair, side-stepping so she can head out to the main part of the campgrounds. minjae stands like a fish out of water for a few seconds, taken aback by the director’s obvious attempt to kill him. 

she knew that you didn’t get along with one another, mainly because your competition was so over the top that even the most oblivious person could tell. you were essentially the human equivalent of fire and gasoline, interchangeable. 

minjae thinks his hair is about to fall out from how stressed he is, walking out to the central area where a good amount of campers have begun to congregate. as much as he dreaded working alongside you during the summer, he felt like he was actually going to miss being a counselor here. he has a lot of pleasant memories at this place, some including you. 

almost as if he summoned you with his mind, you come jogging towards him, your bags practically weighing you down. he doesn’t know why, but he examines your figure as you do; noting how you’re dressed in jean shorts and a t-shirt that looks oddly familiar. it’s a little big on you, so you have it tied into a knot in front of you. his eyes narrow as he tries to figure out why it feels like he’s seen the shirt before. 

you pause beside him, out of breath and winded from what he assumes was the run from the parking lot to here. your hands rest on your knees as you hunch over to regain your sanity. “fuck, i should’ve— i shouldn’t have skipped out during p.e. in high school.” 

“you’re late every time, y/n. i don’t know why you’re so surprised,” minjae sighs, shoving his hands into his shorts’ pockets. “anyway, i have to tell you something and i don’t think you’re gonna like it.”

“okay, but do i like anything that comes out of your mouth?” you raise an eyebrow, finally standing upright. he hates that you’re right, but he’ll give credit where it’s due. 

“touché,” his lips purse and he turns away so he’s not making eye contact as he relays the awful update. “basically, your cabin got flooded over the weekend and there was a lot of water damage, so now they’re sticking you in mine… with me.”

you blink at him, as if the words he’s saying are so unbelievable that doing anything else would wake you up from a dream. (nightmare? same thing.) his expression remains stoic to prove that he’s not lying, and that he’s just as ticked off by the situation, if not more. you open your mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. minjae can’t help but feel confused, head cocking to the side like a puppy. 

“w-we can’t do something else? do i have to share a cabin with you?” the desperation in your voice is a little bit heavier than he would’ve expected. 

“do you really think i didn’t try to argue my way out? it’s non-negotiable apparently.” 

you both leave it at that and head into the mess hall where the campers have all gathered. the camp director is standing on her soap box spieling about how excited she is for the duration of the retreat. she reminds everyone of the areas that are off limits and then sends everyone on their way. for the second opening night, it wasn’t as eventful as the first. minjae could only hope that the rest of his time here is the same, relaxed.

because he was so punctual, minjae had arrived an hour early and already put away all of his things. since you were late, he had to make a few new accommodations. the cabins were actually supposed to house two people anyway, and usually there were four total counselors each summer. however, this year only yourself and minjae came back, which is why you had your own cabins. this would be worse if he had to share a bed with you.

he grunts as he drops your heaviest bag on the bed he hadn’t claimed. there were only a couple weeks of camp left, what could you have possibly brought with you? he truly didn’t understand girls and their need to overpack for everything. he stumbles towards his bed and collapses onto it, throwing a hand over his forehead. the back of his mind is still itching to figure out why the shirt you’re wearing seems so recognizable.

”thanks for that. i could’ve carried them all myself.” 

“you may annoy the fuck out of me, but i’m still a gentleman.”

you snort at that, beginning to put some of your clothes away. “that’s not what yunhee told me last year.”

that has him sitting up quick. he had a very brief fling with one of the other counselors last summer, but it didn’t work out. while it was fun, he just couldn’t keep seeing her knowing that he held almost no romantic feelings for her. isn’t it better of him to call things off rather than string her along?

”what did she say?” he’s curious. he didn’t even know you and yunhee were close aside from sharing a cabin last year. what could she have possibly told you that potentially villainized him? you turn to him with an unreadable look in your eyes.

”that you ended it with her because you didn’t really like her like that. there wasn’t a nicer way to phrase it?”

”no, there wasn’t,” he deadpans. “if i was an asshole, i would’ve kept fooling around with her despite the fact. that’s not who i am, so i was honest with her instead.”

“i don’t know, if that’s really true, wouldn’t she have come back this summer? think about it, minjae, if she thought you were this sweet, thoughtful gentleman, she wouldn’t be avoiding you like the plague.” you go back to your clothes and miss the way he all but twitches out of aggravation.

“i wasn’t aware that you were suddenly best friends. and what does it matter what happened between me and her? you’re in no position to be judging when you did the exact same thing to junmin.” he states matter-of-factly. he wasn’t making things up, you really did pull practically the same stunt on the former counselor. the only difference is that they actually were friends. 

“i’m not the reason why junmin didn’t return, though. we ended things mutually. you and i are not the same.” you stop unpacking, whipping around to glare at him. 

“that’s not what he told me,” minjae uses your own words against you, a small smirk of satisfaction pulling across his lips. “apparently you really broke his heart.”

“you know what, fine. i’ll tell you why i ended it with him. it’s actually because—” you’re about to minimize the space between you, but you’re interrupted. 

your mouth snaps shut before either of you could continue the petty argument, minjae’s walkie talkie going off. he grabs it and calls out to whoever’s on the other line, which happens to be the camp director. she sounds distressed, and that’s a shocker considering she was one of the most calm people he knew.

”one of the campers is missing! i need you two to help me find him!”

”shit,” minjae curses under his breath. “we’re on it.”

this wouldn’t be the first time this has happened. at least once a year, one of the campers decides they’re brave and wants to impress their friends by venturing off into the woods— an off limits area. you put a pin in your conversation for the time being, traversing to the suspected spot. the sun was beginning to set and with the canopy of trees blocking out most of the remaining sunlight, all either of you could rely on was your knowledge of the campgrounds. 

“shouldn’t we have brought a flashlight?” you ask, eyes trained on the ground to avoid tripping over a tree branch or a root. 

“why didn’t you grab it? it was on your side of the cabin.” minjae throws over his shoulder, not really in the mood to argue when you have more pressing issues right now. 

“well sorry if i’m not familiar with your cabin, wise guy. it’s almost like i just got here!” the sarcasm in your tone is enough to wear down his already weak restraint, but even then, you have to keep adding onto it. “you know, i’m starting to get real sick of your attitude, minjae.”

this has him halting his steps, spinning around to face you. caught slightly off guard, you nearly walk right into him. “you’re sick of my attitude? how do you think i fucking feel? all you do is test my patience, starting problems for no reason. like bringing up yunhee.”

“you brought up junmin!” you exclaim. minjae can’t help but scoff.

”again, because you brought up yunhee,” he crosses his arms over his chest. “this entire thing wouldn’t have happened had you just kept your thoughts and opinions to yourself.”

“i brought it up for a reason,” you frown, the conversation steering off the original path. “i actually had something i wanted to tell you about the whole situation.”

“like what? y/n, i’m tired of this cat and dog game. i’ve spent the past few years fighting with you more than anything else and for what, some personal vendetta you have against me? i don’t even know what i did for you to—“

”god, minjae, you’re so fucking stupid.” you laugh to yourself, the heel of your palm coming up to the space between your eyes. his brows furrow together, thoroughly puzzled by your comment. he knows you aren’t necessarily the fondest of each other, but damn, did it warrant such a mean response?

“i’m— what?” 

“i don’t have a personal vendetta against you,” you start, hands resting on your hips as you look away to hide the embarrassment flooding your features. “this whole rivalry or whatever we have going on has never been serious for me. sure, competing with you is fun, but that’s not why i do it. the truth is i’ve had the biggest crush on you since we first became counselors together. that’s why i broke it off with junmin. i couldn’t tell you, because it was just easier for me to be irritating than to be upfront with my feelings. bullying is one of my love languages, i guess.” 

okay. so maybe minjae is so fucking stupid, because his brain is not comprehending a single thing you just told him.

he’s staring. he knows he’s staring, but he can’t think clearly. words aren’t wording. how does he respond to that? you start fiddling with your fingers and he realizes this is the shyest he’s ever seen you in the four years he’s known you. he nudges himself out of his shellshock when he notices you kicking at some rocks.

”can— can you please say something?” you ask as if you were shrinking in on yourself. 

“y/n,” he says, taking a step closer to you and putting his hand on top of yours, pausing your fiddling. “do you know how much time and energy could’ve been saved if you told me this so long ago?”

“i know, i know,” you sigh. “i was just scared? if you rejected me, it would make things awkward. it was just simpler to have you hate me instead.”

“i don’t hate you,” minjae shakes his head. “i’ve never hated you. yeah, you made me want to ram my head through a brick wall every now and then, but i’ve never hated you.”

the small smile that graces your lips has his heart rate increasing. and then you make it worse. 

“this is your shirt, by the way. i may have stolen it last summer, but only because you forgot it here and i had to do a cabin sweep after everyone left.” you admit sheepishly. well, that explains it. it drives him a little insane, actually; the sight of you in his clothes. he doesn’t know why, especially because up until right now, you’ve been the object of his aggravation. 

“can i ask you a question,” minjae swallows, a breathless laugh escaping him when you nod. “is it weird that i kinda wanna kiss you?”

he watches as your eyes widen, and suddenly he can see the stars they hold. he’s never paid close enough attention to notice them before, always too mad to examine each and every detail of your face. you were right. he is fucking stupid. you’re the most beautiful girl he thinks he’s ever laid eyes on, and he can’t believe he’s spent all this time ignoring that. 

“not at all,” your fingers slip from his grasp, tip toe along his arm and then bury in his hair. “i kinda wanna kiss you, too.”

minjae takes that as his cue to lean in, nose just about to brush your own when—

“ew! what are you guys doing?!” 

you pull back from each other swiftly, nearly dying from cardiac arrest after the jump scare. the kid who had gone missing earlier that evening is peeking from behind a tree trunk, the most appalled look on his face. minjae’s ears tint a deep shade of red and you stare at your feet to maintain your own sanity.

oh yeah. the whole reason you were out here in the first place.

minjae collects himself before assuming his role as a counselor once again. “you almost scared us half to death, kid. c’mon let’s get you back to your cabin before the director calls your parents.”

the little boy’s shoulders sag in disappointment when he realizes he’s been caught, but he follows you nonetheless. he pushes him along towards the main campgrounds and you walk beside him, hands laced behind your back. you glance over at him, lip between your teeth. “well, this sucks.”

he hums, sending you an unfamiliar smile. “we can continue this later.”

© yunhoszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.