#it’s not any of my business what you do but I do the influence of popular psychology on this particular topic unfortunately
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lanf1an · 3 days ago
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DREAMS lando norris pt.1 When your childhood bestfriend Flo had convinced you to get the fashion design job at her brother's company Quadrant, it finally paid off when Louis Vuitton was announced as the new sponsor for F1.
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pt.2 wordcount: 1378
Flo's voice filled the room as she scrolled through her phone, her excitement palpable.
"I'm telling you, this is perfect for you," Flo said, thrusting her phone in your direction.
You squinted at the screen, trying to make sense of the email she was showing you. "A job at Quadrant? Flo, I’m studying fashion design, not... whatever that is."
Flo looked up, her brows furrowed as if you’d just said something ridiculous. "What do you mean? It can be. Look at Tommy Hilfiger. Or Lewis Hamilton—his fashion work, hosting the Met Gala, working with big brands. F1’s bigger than you think, and it’s not just about cars."
"Haha, Flo, what are you talking about?" you said, shaking your head at the idea. "F1 is not really the place I want to be for my fashion stuff."
You paused, realizing you hadn’t really thought about it like that before. You’d never paid much attention to Formula 1, aside from the occasional updates Flo gave you about Lando. It had been years since you'd spent any real time with him. As kids, you'd catch fleeting glimpses of each other whenever he wasn’t off karting or, later, racing. But you knew Lewis Hamilton. He had enormous influence. He’d collaborated with brands you admired and pushed boundaries in the fashion world.
"Maybe not," Flo said, leaning forward with a knowing grin. "But there could be great opportunities"
"And trust me, Quadrant desperately needs someone like you. You’ve seen their merch, right? It’s..." She continued.
"Basic?" you offered, arching an eyebrow, Flo had already showed you the designs before in an attempt for you to improve them.
"Exactly! They’re looking for someone to revamp their designs. You’re always talking about how things could be better.''
You sipped your coffee, considering her words. It wasn’t your dream job, but the thought of improving a brand and the opportunities that came with it was oddly tempting.
"Fine," you said, setting your mug down. "I’ll think about it."
Flo grinned like she'd won the lottery. "You’ll kill it. Trust me."
-
The buzz around Quadrant’s new merch started slowly but picked up pace when a few photos of Lando wearing your designs at the paddock made their way online. Suddenly, it wasn’t just fans buying hoodies and tees, people in the fashion and sports world were taking notice, and journalists started to make comparisons you weren’t sure anyone expected.
“Is Lando Norris the next Lewis Hamilton?” one article headline read.
Another went deeper: “From driver to brand icon: How Lando Norris and Quadrant are reshaping athlete influence.”
It had been surreal to watch the shift, you had worked hard. Max had been supportive from the start, seeing the vision. Keegan had actually become a reliable creative partner, having similar styles and taste. Lando had been the same as when you were kids, you had barely seen him, too busy racing, handling his CEO duties from afar.
And now, after months of hard work, it was all leading to something bigger.
-
The first time at the paddock was overwhelming. The heat, the constant movement, the blur of media, mechanics, and drivers navigating their way through the chaos—it was a world you still didn’t quite belong to. Even though it did bid a uncanny resemblance to the chaos of the fashion world, which intrigued you.
You watched as the photographers snapped pictures of Lando and the team in their latest Quadrant pieces. The collection had taken months to finalize, and the response had been overwhelming—more press than usual, more attention, more recognition.
“You’re the one behind all this, aren’t you?”
You turned at the voice, surprised to find yourself face to face with Lewis Hamilton. He was dressed effortlessly, a silk LV shirt under an unbuttoned suit vest, sunglasses perched on his nose.
You blinked. “I—uh. Sorry?”
Lewis smiled knowingly. “The Quadrant collection. It’s you.”
You hesitated. “I mean… it’s a team effort.”
“Sure,” he said, his grin widening. “But I know talent when I see it.”
Her stomach flipped. Compliments were one thing, but this—coming from him—felt different.
“I’ve been following your work,” Lewis continued, slipping his hands into his pockets. “You’ve got a fresh perspective. Louis Vuitton is partnering with F1. They want to bring in new talent, I tipped you.” Your breath caught. “Are you serious?”
“Dead serious.”
You stared at him, waiting for the catch, but there wasn’t one. He was just… offering this. Just like that.
“I—” You glanced over at the Quadrant shoot, where Lando was laughing with the guys, completely unaware of the conversation happening across the paddock. “Thank you so much.”
Lewis smiled. “You’ll be hearing from them soon. Excited to work together.”
And with that, he was gone, disappearing into the paddock like he hadn’t just cracked your entire world open in a two-minute conversation. Flo had turned to be right after all.
-
Louis Vuitton had officially announced their F1 partnership, and with it, their campaign featuring a select group of drivers. The second she saw Lando’s name on the list, you knew there was no avoiding it. You hadn’t expected it, even though it made sense after Quadrant’s succes and having already worked together. Still, you hadn’t expected to be working with him again, especially not like this. He hadn't shown too much emotion when you left Quadrant, but you knew he wasn't happy about it.
Now, standing in the Louis Vuitton studio, flipping through the fitting schedule, you could feel his glare when the door opened before looking up.
"From Quadrant to Louis V," Lando mused, his voice light but edged with something unreadable. "Look at us."
You finally glanced up. He walked around inspecting the room, sunglasses perched on his head, fingers brushing against the fabric of a tailored jacket. His expression was casual, like he wasn’t really thinking about what he’d just said. Like it was just an observation.
You gave a small shrug. "Who would've thought."
He huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he turned toward the fitting area. "Thought you could get rid of me, huh?"
“Alright, first look,” you said, flipping through your notes without looking up.
Lando sighed dramatically. “Do I really need to try all of these on?”
You shot him a look. “Unless you suddenly developed a sense of style overnight, yes.”
He rolled his eyes but didn’t argue, grabbing the set from the rack.
You turned you back as he changed, focusing on adjusting the pins on one of the outfits. It wasn’t the first time you’d been in a fitting with Lando, but this was different. The Louis Vuitton studio was quieter than Quadrant HQ, the lighting softer, there was no Max, no Keegan, no distractions.
“Okay,” Lando said, stepping forward. “What do you think?”
You turned—and fuck.
The suit fit him unfairly well. The sharp tailoring, the way the fabric moved with him—it was annoyingly perfect. Which meant you had done a great job.
You forced yourself to be professional, stepping closer to fix his collar. “Hold still.”
Lando stayed quiet as you smoothed the lapels, fingers brushing against his chest. The silence felt thick, aware of how close you were.
“Looks good,” you said, voice even. “But the pants need adjusting.”
You knelt down, reaching for the hem.
You could feel his eyes on you as you adjusted the fabric, fingers skimming his ankle, making sure the length was right. You refused to look up, but you could hear him breathe in, then exhale slowly.
“Comfortable down there?” he asked, voice casual, but you could hear his smirk.
You rolled your eyes, unable for him to see. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
Lando huffed out a laugh, but when you did glance up—just for a second—his jaw was tight. Like he was the one struggling.
You stood, smoothing out the jacket. “Alright,” you said, stepping back, regaining distance. “I think we’re done here.”
Lando tilted his head. “You sure? Thought you liked bossing me around now.”
You smirked. “If I really wanted to boss you around, Lando, you’d know it.”
He blinked, caught off guard for just a second.
Then he grinned. “Noted.”
WN: new storyyyy wooooop, literally already had this fashion job at quadrant in my drafts and then the LV partnership was announced i had to implement that and post it
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servndipityz · 2 days ago
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namgyu with alternative reader? perchance.. smut🫶🫶😁
a/n ── i'm so nervous about this one! i hope i didn't do a terrible job on portraying alt culture (i know nothing about it). i kinda tried to make it not super specific so anyone can feel identified. again, sorry if it's lowkey bad. it's also my first time writing smut, believe it or not, but i've had years of experience reading it so i don't think it's that bad. enjoy :)
STRIPPED
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warnings ── smut, +18 MDNI!!! porn w plot. drug usage, sex under the influence, sex in a club, fingering, orgasm denial, degradation, light choking, kinda brat taming? p in v, unprotected sex, creampie.
word count ── 4.6k
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he'd ended up there. of course, he'd ended up there. only someone as unlucky as him could wind up at some fucking goth party. or punk. or… whatever. he didn't really care about the whole thing—the dramatic makeup, the dyed hair, the incredibly loud music blaring through the club. none of it.
nam-gyu had envisioned a chill night on his free day, but no. of course, his co-worker had to get sick. of course, nam-gyu owed him money for the pills he'd given him last week. of course, he had to cover for him that night.
and, of course, it was alternative night at club pentagon. usually, his co-worker handled these kinds of nights—special events, themed parties, all that.
what did nam-gyu know about alternative culture anyway? he wondered the same thing as he weaved through the crowd, making sure everyone was having a good time, keeping an eye on bar sales.
so far, he'd been stepped on twice—not too bad, except when it came from one of those platform boots everyone seemed to be wearing. those hurt like hell. but at least the night was going smoothly. for now.
so good, in fact, that nam-gyu figured it was time for a drink. he'd been working for hours, making sure this party ran smoothly. he owed that co-worker a lot of drug money, and this was the only way to settle it. it’s not like he’d ever do this out of the kindness of his heart.
he made his way to the nearest counter, resting his elbows on the cool marble as he waited for someone to take his order. he couldn't help but wonder how anyone could actually dance to this loud-ass english music that sounded more like screaming. he'd take the regular techno dj any day.
meanwhile, you finished pouring a vodka red bull and handed it off to yet another customer. that's when you noticed him.
he stood out—not in a good way.
hunched over the counter, inspecting it like he might find some cocaine stuck in it (which, honestly, he probably would if he looked hard enough), looking like a wet rat. his clothes gave him away. who even let him in like that? plain black shirt, black jeans, a couple of rings.
he looked up as you approached.
his first thought was that your leather top made your tits poke out. his second was that, without all that emo makeup, you'd actually be pretty cute.
his third was what the highest-alcohol-content drink he could order was.
he opened his mouth to ask, eyes flicking to the bottles behind you—
but you spoke first.
"you're ruining the vibe, man."
he frowned, caught off guard.
you just raised an eyebrow, speaking over the loud music. "i said, you're ruining the vibe."
"i'm not doing anything," he scoffed, annoyed. he just wanted to order his damn drink. last thing he needed was some lecture.
"exactly," you said. "you don't belong here. what are you even doing?"
not like you actually cared. you were here to do your job, bartend, make money, go home. but this guy—standing there, stiff shoulders, sharp jawline, judging everything and everyone, probably without even realizing it—looking at you like that, eyes dragging over you like you were some kind of curiosity—
yeah. he rubbed you the wrong way.
being alternative, you already got judged enough. the last thing you needed was someone doing it at an alternative party.
he frowned even further. "i'm here to work. not that it's any of your business."
that caught you off guard for a second. "you work here?" your head tilted, curiosity slipping into your tone. you leaned over the counter, the neckline of your top shifting just a little lower. who knew—if this guy was someone important, you had to use all your charms. especially after being so rude. "i've never seen you around, and i always bartender at these kinds of parties."
his gaze flickered down your cleavage before snapping back to your eyes. but you saw it. the way his jaw clenched, the way he suddenly looked more annoyed than before—like he was mad at himself for looking.
"i'm not thrilled either," he mumbled, clearly uninterested in conversation. "just covering for a friend. now, could you actually do your job and get me something to drink?"
you bristled at his tone, raising a brow as you turned to the shelves of bottles. "jeez, someone's grumpy. what can i get you?"
in reality, nam-gyu wasn't grumpy. well, he was, but that was just how he was. it was just... for some reason, you made him nervous. the girls he usually dealt with at clubs were boring bitches trying to get a VIP card or whatever drugs he had in his pocket.
you were the opposite. rude. annoying. and he didn’t like that. but for some reason, it made his blood rush somewhere else, clouding his brain.
"just give me a shot," he said after a pause. "something strong."
you turned your head slightly, a smile playing on your lips—the kind that sent a shiver down his spine. you walked back to the counter, reaching for a bottle hidden underneath.
"drinking on the job?" you asked while pouring the liquid into a shot glass, then casually grabbing a second one.
nam-gyu let out a short, amused huff. if drinking was the worst thing he’d done on the job, he’d be in a much better place. but he watched curiously as you poured the second shot, his eyes flicking up through his lashes, brow slightly raised.
"what?" you asked playfully. "if you’re doing it, so can i."
you finally set the bottle back and raised your glass. he mirrored you, his eyes never leaving yours. there was something in his expression—almost a smile. you entertained him.
"cheers," you said, clinking your glass against his before downing the shot in one go. he followed suit, setting the glass back on the counter, suppressing a grimace at the sharp burn of alcohol.
“so,” you said, clearing your throat slightly after the shot. “who’s the friend you’re covering for?”
nam-gyu said the name, and your eyes widened.
“that junkie, huh?” you smirked. he chuckled. “yeah, i know him. he’s a little more talkative than you, though.”
nam-gyu narrowed his eyes. “what’s that supposed to mean?”
“nothing. it’s okay to be shy.” your voice was innocent, teasing, calculated. you'd decided that you'd had enough, that you might as well have some fun. “anyway, my shift’s almost over. wanna get out of here?”
“i’m not shy.” he sounded offended, then glanced away, considering your offer. “and i told you, i’m working.”
you huffed. “fine. just needed someone to smoke this with." you reached into your back pocket and pulled out a tiny zip-lock bag filled with greens. "guess i'll have to find somebody else."
now that caught his attention. maybe almost as much as your exposed skin did. suddenly, he was interested. but also suspicious.
“what do you have?” he asked, leaning slightly over the counter, his voice lower, more serious.
“your junkie friend gave it to me for a gig i did. said it’s good shit.” you shrugged, playing it cool, acting uninterested—like you didn’t know exactly what you were doing. and he took the bait.
“why would you wanna share it with me?” he still sounded wary, but there was something else in his tone now. curiosity. maybe even something close to interest.
you groaned dramatically. “look, i’m heading to the staff room. you coming or not?” you said, already turning away, signaling to your co-worker that your shift was over.
now, nam-gyu didn’t need weed. not exactly. he could probably find ten of those zip-lock bags hidden in his place, forgotten in favor of other, harder drugs. but he also wasn’t the kind of guy to say no to free drugs.
especially not from such a petty girl.
you grinned to yourself as you felt him rush to walk behind you, trailing after you through the club like he didn’t know the way like the back of his hand.
as you reached the hallway leading to the staff room, nam-gyu couldn’t help but let his gaze linger on your half-ripped fishnets, the way they framed your legs under that short black skirt. was he here for the weed or for you? he wasn’t really sure, and he didn’t care much.
you finally reached the door, slipping past a few couples too caught up in each other to notice, and he shut it behind him. the staff room was small, dingy, and reeked of bleach and cigarette smoke, but you still sank onto the worn-out sofa next to the table like it was the most comfortable place in the world.
you leaned back, stretching your legs out just enough for your skirt to ride up slightly. not too much—just enough to make him notice. and he did.
nam-gyu stood near the door for a second, like he was reconsidering this, before scoffing to himself and dropping onto the couch beside you. he was close, not touching, but enough that the warmth of him was noticeable. enough that when he exhaled, you could feel the faintest brush of his breath against your shoulder.
"roll it," he said, nodding at the bag in your hand.
you raised an eyebrow. "you're really bad at asking nicely, huh?"
he just looked at you, serious. "you’re really bad at shutting up."
that made you laugh. he was watching you now—really watching you—as you pulled out the papers, fingers working effortlessly, licking the edge just to see his reaction. you weren’t disappointed. his jaw flexed again, his eyes dark, tracking your every move like he was trying to pretend he didn’t care. like he wasn’t already leaning back, manspreading, trying to act like he had the upper hand here.
cute.
you tucked the blunt between your lips, lighting it, taking a slow drag before passing it to him.
nam-gyu hesitated, just for a split second, then took it, bringing it to his mouth. his fingers brushed yours in the handoff, and it was stupid how that tiny touch sent something sharp down your spine. or maybe it was just the way he inhaled, head tilting back, exposing the sharp line of his throat as he exhaled, smoke curling lazily from his lips.
you licked yours.
the weed hit, slow and warm. the music outside was muffled, the sounds of the party fading into the background, leaving only this—dim lighting, the scent of smoke and alcohol and something else, something charged.
"you always do this?" nam-gyu asked after a beat, voice lower, lazier. "lure random guys into the staff room for a smoke?"
you smirked, tilting your head. "only the rude ones."
he huffed, shaking his head, but you saw the corner of his mouth twitch like he was trying not to smile. he passed the blunt back, his fingers lingering just a second longer this time. you let them.
the room felt smaller. warmer.
"you always this uptight?" you asked, taking another slow hit. "or just with me?"
nam-gyu let his head roll against the back of the couch, watching you through heavy-lidded eyes. "you always this annoying? or just with me?"
you exhaled smoke, letting it curl between you. "you like it."
he didn’t answer. but he also didn’t look away.
you were both leaning back now, legs almost brushing, breaths slow and measured like you were both pretending not to notice the heat building between you.
nam-gyu wet his lips, head still resting against the couch, eyes flicking to your mouth before he caught himself and looked away. like it was a habit. like he was trying so fucking hard not to slip.
you took one last hit before stubbing out the blunt in the ashtray beside you. then, shifting slightly, you turned toward him, letting your knee press against his thigh. deliberate. slow. testing.
"you're staring," you murmured.
he scoffed, but it came out weaker than he probably meant. his hands clenched into fists on his thighs like he was keeping himself still on purpose.
"you’re high," he muttered, looking away.
"so are you." you tilted your head, voice dropping, playing with the edge of your ripped fishnets like you weren’t watching the way his gaze followed the movement of your fingers. "and what, does that mean i can’t see the way you’ve been looking at me all night?"
nam-gyu exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair. "i haven’t been—"
"you have," you cut in smoothly, shifting closer, feeling the warmth of his body now, solid and tense. "you’re mad about it. i can tell."
his jaw clenched.
"tell me," you purred. "are you mad because you don’t like it? or mad because you do?"
his fingers twitched on his thigh. his breathing was heavier, controlled, like he was still fighting it. fighting you.
so you leaned in, lips just close enough to ghost over his ear. "it’s okay," you whispered. "you can touch me."
and that was it.
nam-gyu moved so fast you barely had time to smirk before he grabbed you by the back of the neck, his lips crashing into yours, hot and desperate, all teeth and pent-up frustration. his other hand found your waist, yanking you onto his lap, and fuck—he wasn’t holding back anymore.
he was done fighting it.
and so were you.
his lips were all heat, all pressure—nothing hesitant, nothing soft. you barely had a second to adjust before his teeth caught your bottom lip, his fingers gripping the nape of your neck like he wanted to own you. his other hand, firm on your waist, yanked you flush against him, and fuck—he was hard.
not that he acknowledged it. not that he’d ever admit that you’d done this to him.
your knees bracketed his hips as you settled onto his lap, rolling your hips down just enough to feel him. his grip tightened, nails digging into the meat of your waist. he hissed against your mouth—half warning, half surrender.
“you don’t play fair,” he muttered, lips grazing your jaw now, teeth scraping skin, testing.
your fingers tangled into his hair, tugging hard enough to make him grunt. “neither do you.”
his hands dropped—one to your thigh, sliding under your skirt, fisting in the torn mesh of your fishnets. the other traced the curve of your ass before shoving you down against him again, this time deliberate, a slow grind that made both of you exhale sharp.
his breath was uneven, warm against your throat. “you think i haven’t noticed?” his fingers curled, gripping tight enough to bruise. “the way you’ve been—” a sharp pull at the fishnets, a rip, cool air hitting skin—“fucking teasing me?”
you laughed, half-gasping when his tongue flicked against the pulse at your neck.
his fingers dipped, pressing against the damp heat of your panties, no patience, no hesitation. his other hand was now tangled in your hair, keeping you locked right where he wanted—breath hitching as he rubbed slow, teasing.
then his hand moved, fingers slipping beneath the fabric, warm against your skin, sliding between your thighs. the first touch was barely there, just a single fingertip running along your slit, slow, teasing.
you squirmed, but he didn’t let you go. “look at you,” he murmured, mocking, the pad of his finger dragging over your cunt, pressing just enough to make you shudder. “all that attitude, but you’re already—” he exhaled sharply, felt it before he even had to say it—so fucking wet.
"fuck," he muttered, more to himself than to you, his forehead resting against yours for a second like he was trying to collect himself. but his fingers were still moving, sliding along the slickness of you, testing, exploring, spreading it just enough to make you squirm.
"yeah?" you murmured, voice breathy, teasing. "you like that?"
his only response was a low, quiet curse under his breath before he pressed his fingers in deeper, the tips just barely pushing inside before pulling back, slow and torturous. he was watching you now, eyes dark and half-lidded.
and then, without warning, he slid one finger in, slow but firm, curling just enough to make your breath catch. your nails dug into his shoulders, and his other hand tightened on your hip, holding you steady.
"fuck," you whispered, rolling your hips into his touch, chasing it, needing more.
nam-gyu chuckled, low and smug, and then he added a second finger, stretching you just a little more, fucking you slow and deep with just his hand. the angle was perfect, his fingers pressing against that spot inside you that made your toes curl, made your breath come faster, needier.
"you’re so fucking tight," he murmured, more fascinated than anything, watching the way his fingers disappeared inside you, the way you clenched around them. he twisted his wrist slightly, his palm pressing against your clit as he fucked you with his fingers, setting a rhythm that had you grinding against him, chasing that pressure.
your moan was quiet but desperate, and he smirked, eyes flicking up to yours.
"you always this easy?" he murmured, his voice taunting, dark.
you opened your mouth to snap something back, but then he crooked his fingers just right, pressing deeper, and your words dissolved into a gasp, your head tipping back. his lips were on your throat a second later, sucking, biting, leaving marks you’d have to cover up later.
his pace picked up, fucking you harder with just his fingers, each drag of his palm against your clit sending another sharp wave of heat curling low in your stomach. the room was quiet except for the sound of your breathy moans, his heavier breathing, the slick sounds of his fingers working you open.
"you gonna come?" he murmured against your skin, his voice rough now, strained.
you swallowed hard, your fingers tightening in his hair, nails scraping against his scalp. "fuck—don’t stop," you breathed.
nam-gyu felt it—felt the way your body tensed, the way your thighs shook against his hips, the way you were right there, so fucking close. he could see it too, in the way your mouth parted, in the soft, breathy little gasps escaping your lips, the ones you were trying to swallow back like you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.
but he wasn’t that generous.
just when you thought he’d let you tip over, when your body clenched down around his fingers so tight he could barely move them, he pulled away.
just—gone.
the sudden loss was so sharp, so fucking unfair, that you let out a frustrated, needy little whine before you could stop yourself, your hips rolling forward, chasing after the feeling, after his hand, anything. but nam-gyu just sat back, bringing his wet fingers up to his lips, slipping them into his mouth with a slow, deliberate hum.
"mm," he mused, tongue flicking over them, eyes locked on yours. "not bad."
"are you fucking kidding me?" you were panting, legs still shaking where you straddled him, your body on fire, needing more, needing anything. your eyes flashed, your hands curling into fists against his chest like you were two seconds away from either punching him or ripping his shirt off.
he just smirked. "what?"
"you—" you gritted your teeth, your nails digging into the fabric of his shirt. "you’re such a fucking asshole."
nam-gyu chuckled, low and lazy, his hands dragging up your thighs again, thumbs pressing into the soft flesh just to remind you he still had you exactly where he wanted you. "maybe, but you're still here," he murmured. "still dripping for me."
"yeah, because you didn’t let me cum, you dick," you snapped, rocking forward again, grinding against him, feeling the hard, thick press of him through his pants. he was just as worked up as you were, and you could tell—he was trying to play it cool, but his breathing was heavier, his fingers twitching against your skin like he was barely holding himself back.
that made you smirk. "ohhh," you taunted, rolling your hips again, slower this time, watching his jaw clench. "that’s why, huh? you’re hard as fuck and don’t wanna finish before i do."
his eyes darkened, his grip tightening on your hips. "watch your fucking mouth."
"or what?" you leaned in, brushing your lips against his ear, letting your breath tickle his skin. "you gonna do something about it?"
that was it.
one second you were teasing him, playing your little game, and the next you were flat on your back, your spine pressing into the shitty, worn-out couch, his body caging you in. his hand was already shoving your skirt up, fingers hooking into your panties and dragging them down your thighs, not even bothering to be careful.
"you talk too much," he muttered, voice rough, breath hot against your jaw.
"and you do too little," you shot back, just to push him, just to make him snap again.
it worked.
his hand was on your throat, not squeezing, just there, just pressing, just reminding you that he could if he wanted to. his other hand yanked at his belt, the metal buckle clinking as he undid his pants, as he shoved them down just enough to free himself.
fuck.
you’d felt it before, pressing against you, teasing, but now you saw it. thick, flushed, leaking at the tip, the kind of length that made your thighs press together instinctively, made you bite your lip even as you refused to let him see you flustered.
nam-gyu saw it anyway.
"knew you wanted it," he muttered, running the head of his cock along your slit, dragging it slow through your wetness. "acting like a brat, but your pussy’s already begging."
"shut the fuck up and—"
he pushed in, just an inch, just enough to make you gasp, make your nails dig into his arms.
"yeah?" he exhaled sharply, his jaw tight, like he was already holding himself back. "that what you wanted?"
you barely had time to adjust before he thrust forward again, burying himself deep, stretching you in one slow stroke that left your back arching, your head tipping back against the couch.
"fuck—"
nam-gyu groaned, low and almost desperate, his forehead pressing against yours as he bottomed out, as he let you feel every fucking inch of him.
"you feel that?" he murmured, breath ragged, his hips rolling just a little, just enough to make you whimper. "how tight you are? how you’re fucking squeezing me?"
you couldn’t answer. you couldn’t think. all you could do was feel—the way he filled you, the way he stretched you, the way he stayed there for a second, teasing, waiting, making you want it more.
you swallowed, trying to catch your breath. "you gonna move, or you just like teasing your own dick?"
his laugh was low. then he pulled back and slammed into you, knocking the breath from your lungs.
"fuck—"
your back was pressed against the couch, legs spread wide, thighs trembling as he held you open. his body caged yours beneath him, one hand pinning your wrists above your head, the other gripping your hip, keeping you still as he drove into you with rough, unforgiving thrusts. his cock filled you completely—thick, hot, deep—dragging against every sensitive spot inside you, making you gasp with each desperate slap of his hips against yours.
"you gonna be good now?" his voice was low, ragged, dark with amusement. his grip tightened, fingers digging bruises into your skin. "or you still wanna run your mouth?"
you tried. you really did. you opened your lips to snap something back—something mean, something cutting, something to remind him you weren’t easy to break.
but all that came out was a choked moan as he grabbed your chin, forcing your gaze to meet his.
"that’s what i thought," he murmured against your lips, his breath hot, his mouth just barely brushing yours, teasing. "bratty little thing—talking shit. but look at you now."
his hand wrapped around your throat, fingers pressing just enough to keep you in place. not squeezing. just controlling. just owning. his other hand slipped between your bodies, two fingers finding your clit, rubbing slow, teasing circles over the swollen bud.
"fuck," you gasped, your hips rolling up instinctively, chasing that pressure, that friction.
nam-gyu chuckled, low and smug. "yeah? you like that?"
you wanted to tell him to fuck off. you really did.
but then he twisted his fingers just right, his cock hitting that spot inside you at the same time, and your body jerked, your moan breaking into something desperate.
"that’s it," he murmured, his lips brushing against your jaw, his pace still brutal, relentless. "don’t fight it. you wanna cum, don’t you?"
"yes—yeah," you panted, nails scraping against his wrist where he held your throat.
he pulled back suddenly, dragging his cock out until only the tip remained, making you whimper at the loss. his fingers abandoned your clit, and before you could protest, he did something worse—something filthier.
he spat.
the wet warmth of it landed directly on your pussy, slick and obscene. your whole body jolted.
"fuck—" your breath stuttered, your back arching as heat shot through you.
nam-gyu groaned at the sight, at the way you clenched, the way your body reacted so instantly, so helplessly.
"you like that, huh?" his voice was thick with satisfaction, his fingers dragging through the mess, smearing it over you, rubbing it in slow, teasing circles.
you shouldn’t. you really shouldn’t.
but the heat in your stomach coiled even tighter.
"say it," he ordered, his voice rough, his cock pushing back inside you, stretching you open again, slow and deep, making you feel every inch. "tell me you fucking love it."
your pride cracked. your body betrayed you.
"fuck—i love it," you gasped.
nam-gyu groaned, his breath hitching, his pace quickening. "good girl."
and then his fingers returned, rubbing messy circles over your spit-slicked clit, matching the rhythm of his thrusts, pushing you higher, harder—
you were already close. too close.
"fuck—fuck, i’m gonna cum," you choked out, hips jerking against his hand, against his cock, chasing it. "please—please don’t stop—"
and this time he didn’t.
he fucked you through it, his fingers never letting up, his pace relentless, driving you higher, harder, until it finally snapped—
your orgasm hit like a fucking wrecking ball.
your body clenched down on him so tight he cursed under his breath, his rhythm faltering for the first time. the pleasure crashed over you, your whole body shaking as you moaned through it, loud and wrecked, the sound swallowed by the shitty little staff room.
"fuck—fuck, yeah, that’s it," nam-gyu groaned, his grip on your hips bruising now, his thrusts rough and desperate as he chased his own release. "god, you feel so fucking good—"
he buried himself deep, his breath stuttering, his cock twitching inside you, and then he was coming, his grip tightening, his forehead pressing against your shoulder as he groaned low into your skin.
for a second, all you could hear was the ragged sound of your breathing, the quiet hum of the party outside, the distant bass thudding through the walls.
nam-gyu exhaled, slow and shaky, his fingers tracing lazy circles against your waist, still holding you, still pressed against you.
then he pulled out, groaning at the sight of his cum spilling out of you, dripping between your thighs.
he smirked, dragging a lazy finger through it before pressing it against your lips.
"open," he murmured.
you did.
and fuck, the look in his eyes when you sucked it clean—
you were so fucked.
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naga-raja-suresh · 1 day ago
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"Is that what I did? Interesting..." He'd never done such a thing before. Hadn't known he could do such a thing. Suresh knew that it was more than that. The whispers of his god's influence filling the whole space and what could have happened. But he wasn't going to fill in the pieces that the witch didn't seem to know. "More surprised than afraid I think. That was a nasty little bit of blood magic... I can't remember the last time someone caused me that much pain." At least physically. His tone of voice held a certain amount of admiration for the other. No point in hiding it. Suresh nodded when Corvinus said he didn't mind staying until dawn. Suresh gave a small shrug, "What can I say? Everyone wants to talk to me. But do you want to be instantly recognizable to every Lotus Eater in the city?"
He blinked, pulling more of his tail up to tuck under himself on the sofa, but still leaving the end trailing on the floor. "Very generous of you. I'll make sure his Boss knows you aren't going to be declaring war on the Deathrunners. The boy was just doing what he thought was right. It's a death sentence to be a witch in my city and be found owning a piece of a Naga. I wouldn't expect you to know that unless you've been chatting with the local witches. But you were busy doing other things it seems." He shrugged again, "That wedge only exists for you. I won't take it personally if you don't want me to touch you ever again. But I have half a mind to slap you the moment I get the chance. That kick was very rude. As far as Callum goes... I believe he said it was a territory dispute? Which sounded very vague. I was curious about that."
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The moment Corvinus suggested a scale Suresh laughed. His face brightening with amusement at the sheer audacity of the suggestion. Suresh looked at his body, his scales shimmering in the low light. Golden talons running over his scales for a moment. Suresh shook his head, "Two very bold suggestions. I will have to turn down giving you a piece of me. I don't do that for anyone. Owed favours are also vague. I can owe you one favor, but if you will not tell me what it is. I reserve the right to deny any request that I deem unsuitable. And you will have to ask me for something else." He let out a soft sigh of enjoyment as he leaned his head on the couch, watching Corvinus with bright golden eyes and a soft smile, "If I listened to everyone else I should be most concerned about you." He paused, "I'm going to get an earful when they find out I let you go."
The moment the foot brushed him his whole lower body reacted, pulling his tail up under him. His snake half tightly curled around and under himself on the couch cushion. He lifted one finger up and wagged it at the witch, "Ah-ah. No touching unless I'm allowed to touch too." His eyes narrowed at the statement. "Is he a witch then?" He let out a long sigh, "If only I thought you were actually suggesting that because you are worried for me..." He shook his head, "I can invite the other gang leaders. But it will be up to them to come or not. Especially if you are going to be in attendance too." Suresh curled a finger aimlessly through his dark hair, "You are quickly becoming persona non grata."
Someone was quite popular. Corvinus hadn't even flinched as their private interaction was interrupted, merely throwing a glance to security. Then to the phone. The magic he had felt clicked into place and Corvinus gave a small chuckle as it did. "You sent out a beacon. My, were you that afraid of what I was going to do? I was just making my point clear." There wasn't any concern as Suresh settled near him, as they resumed their position of simply two elders speaking. His gaze followed Suresh's, seeing the people down below and he gave a shrug. "I don't mind staying until dawn though I believe I've already become quite famous. I speak to the Deathrunners boy, the Deathrunners boy speaks to you. I speak to Callum and he's clearly spoken to you too." It was the little words chosen, the fact he knew about the naga blood that gave Corvinus that insight. He had no intention to retaliate against them for merely speaking, of course they would with the concerns presented. "Though I am curious, what did Callum tell you of our initial meeting? I don't believe he's been the most forthcoming. Also for the Deathrunners boy, don't worry. I don't have any interest hunting him down for telling you. Though I am disappointed that he put a wedge in what I was sure would have been a beautiful thing between us."
Corvinus had wanted many things throughout his long life. Power, recognition, fame or infamy, knowledge, it all depended on the century as his goals were under constant flux. In this moment, he was merely having fun with it all. At least he and Suresh had reached an understanding that neither one of them were to be trifled with. Boundaries were drawn, clear cut, though at some point they would both cross those lines again. Corvinus had never been the type to play within boundaries anyways.
"I suppose it depends how generous you want to be," he replied, his attention returning to Suresh. "Perhaps a scale? They do shine most beautifully. Or we could simply say you owe me a favour, but that could mean anything in the future. How concerned are you about me?" At least he still had something to offer. Knowledge was powerful and Corvinus had that. It was why he spent so long in the shadows. Watching. Waiting. Drawing the information he could simply to play the cards right when the time came. The loss of one vial was a mere setback.
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Revealing the truth to just Suresh would be quite a boring ordeal and he hated boring. There it would be, all laid out, and likely with the most bland reaction possible. He turned a little more towards Suresh, his foot gently brushing along the tail in a deliberate move. "Though I'm also hesitant to bring the leader to your doorstep. As much as I'm beginning to enjoy you, I have no intention of intervening if he strikes you. So gather the leaders and I'll bring the Nameless there. And I'll be nothing more than a witness to it. That way you'll have allies to defend you if need be."
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basedonconjecture · 1 month ago
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I just read a critique on how the fandom treats Caterina, flattening her into a wholly morally objectionable character beyond her treatment of her grandsons rather than engaging with the nuance of a matriarch who is balancing her grip on power with the survival of her family. And I…have to agree that this is largely what I’ve seen myself and, while unsurprised, am somewhat disappointed by.
I want to be as delicate as I can here but there does seem to be a fair amount of players projecting their familial traumas onto Caterina, specifically, as well as the dynamics of the Dellamortes as a whole without accounting for their actual characterizations. There is certainly a form of catharsis in working through painful things within us using characters we relate to (and you can, of course, write whatever you want) so this isn’t me saying there’s anything conceptually wrong with this practice as a general rule. It is only me (calmly, gently) suggesting that a bit of circumspection about Caterina when writing her is, in my opinion, necessary. Not only to give space to a character who, by the very nature of them, IS complex but also in accurately depicting Lucanis’ (and, by extension Illario’s) relationship to her.
This isn’t to absolve Caterina of the choices she made or the harm she caused but there is something to be said about how there is far more sympathy for a man willing to sacrifice thousands of people for a lost cause than a woman trying to make the best decisions she could in the position she was in. I’m not going to say them here but I’m sure my meaning is clear.
I will say, while I think wanting to write Lucanis getting away from the Crows comes from a generally well-meaning place, I do think there are few ways to do so that wouldn’t strip him entirely of his agency unless you are engaging with Caterina (and his relationship with her) in a meaningful way. And this includes grappling with the murkier aspects such as grief and the love that remains for a person who has caused you harm. Most of all, it requires Lucanis making this decision himself. Not Rook or anyone else. Personally, I don’t think it’s a path that is super consistent with his character but that’s just my own interpretation. Again, write what you want. How you want. But I do think the themes of regret and forgiveness can be applied to the Dellamortes in a much more nuanced (and satisfying) way than Rook (or Neve) “saving” Lucanis from his terrible family as much as they may want to. Which can be an interesting angle to take in a post-VG relationship, conflict is important for relationship growth, but it becomes rather shallow if it is solely depicted as Caterina hating Rook/Neve or treating them poorly and/or doesn’t take into account Lucanis’ feelings, only pitting his family against them in a sort of forced choice situation, etc.
tl;dr the fandom’s treatment of Caterina largely kindaaaaa squashes any nuance there and I don’t wike it *whinewhinewhine* :(
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sweetandglovelyart · 1 year ago
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Knightfall in Dream Land - Page 4
Meta Knight shares what it was like to grow up being raised by Nightmare.
#Kirby#Kirby fanart#my art#comic#Meta Knight#Nightmare#sorry this page took me so long to finish I’ve been really busy with grad school stuff and was at a conference last month#but it’s finally here and page five shouldn’t take me as long to finish as this page did#the comic is mostly centered around the game lore and not the anime lore but I did borrow a little bit from the anime#this might be a dumb question but do any other Kirby fans have voice headcanons for the characters?#by voice headcanons I mean what do you think they’d sound like if they had voiced dialogue#for Meta Knight and Dedede I think they’d just sound like they do in the anime since those voices are so iconic lol#I know that Nightmare also speaks in the anime but I don’t really like his anime voice#I’m showing that I’m a Trekkie with this lmao but my voice headcanon for Nightmare is that he’d sound like Ricardo Montalban#Montalban died in 2009 but he was famous for playing Khan in Star Trek he was so good in that villain role#but that was in the 1960s and 1980s so if you aren’t a Star Trek fan you might not be familiar with him#he also plays the grandpa in Spy Kids though and I think he was also in Kim Possible#I actually see a lot of parallels between Kirby and Star Trek lol but maybe that’s just me and no one else sees it#I’m developing an idea for a Susie redemption arc comic that I want to draw when I finish Knightfall in Dream Land#and if I do eventually draw it it’s going to be very heavily influenced by Star Trek/there will be lots of Star Trek references in it#Planet Robobot as a game basically is just a Star Trek episode lmao it has the same plot as every Borg episode from Star Trek#so I think referencing Star Trek in a comic centered around Susie would make sense#Knightfall in Dream Land
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deiscension · 1 year ago
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Isn't it crazy how M.itski's Nobody is a deep dive on SQX's character development.... 'I just want somebody near me / Guess I'm a coward / I just want to feel alright'. 'And I know no one will save me.'
The heartache of realizing you never knew what it was like to be wanted, you didn't even know what it was like to be needed, and it wouldn't have mattered anyway because what you had wasn't yours and you still took it. You still took it and you couldn't give it back even when you tried because you weren't strong enough to say the right name when it mattered the most and you weren't brave or just enough to understand and condemn the one who poured blood all over your hands when he handed you a fate you were undeserving of. And really what does it say about you that you mourn what was despite the fact it never should have been? What does it say about you that even when you had it all there were pieces missing? Of course you'd never turn to resentment. That's not who you are, it never has been. It's not your right either. You'll find a way to die happy but that's not really the same as peace or contentment. Are you allowed to want after you've had? Hard to say.
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prionsis · 3 days ago
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“There you go again, coddling him when it is most convenient. One moment and he is a strong, wise and capable young man ready to be king- but soon after he is just but a boy in desperate need of guidance, just a child. I have never volunteered to care for Lambert’s spawn, hire him a nanny if you must.” It wasn’t his son, therefore not his responsibility. Why even help when the beast would never be able to truly process any feeling of gratitude towards him? Why risk himself even further, with his neck not only within Dimitri’s range, but also within reach of those four lackeys he surrounds himself with?
Gautier, Fraldarius, Galatea and that stray. One worse than the other, but under Dimitri’s command- all dogs ready to kill whatever crosses their path. Rufus knew better than to potentially involve himself with creatures unable to think for themselves.
But Matthias truly was a wicked man, his words sending ice through his veins as the regent found himself a deer frozen before a wolf’s hungry glare. None of them knew, he was sure of that- the margrave was simply saying this for the sake of bothering him, but there was this tiny part of his mind that wondered if they had figured it out after all, and were simply taking it nice and slow.
"You-” With cobalts framed by irritation, Rufus shot Matthias a glare. “You are playing with fire through those words, margrave. Baseless accusations such as these could land you a hefty punishment, I am sure you are aware of that. Were I a more impatient man, you would not have gotten away with this.” Because in the end it was just a matter of time, as the regent managed whatever he could to ensure his own safety in a world where all desired his head hanging from the gates of Fhirdiad.
Even with Cornelia by his side, he was still surrounded. The palace was not and has never truly been his turf, as he was quite sure not even his bribes would be able to keep the already delicate peace stable for much longer. His only means to prevail were long gone now, as the prince proved to be far too cunning to kill, and sooner or later the boy’s influence would continue to grow and grow, Rufus ultimately finding himself trapped in a lion’s den with no way out.
A fate that a small, insignificant yet very much present part of him, was disturbingly okay with.
“Bah, spare me from your harping regarding your land’s misery and low reputation. You forget that the territory is in your hands, and it is up to you to give it the change it needs- but this conversation has only shown me that Lambert has ruled this country like a teacher handles a kindergarten. Spoiling lords by doing their jobs for them, leaving them entirely helpless as soon as he is out of the picture. Masterfully manipulative, painfully pathetic.” Finding himself tired of this useless banter, Rufus turned away from the Margrave- but not completely, he wasn’t stupid enough to not keep a glance on Matthias.
“This discussion bores me so, and I am far too busy to spare you any more of my time. You speak much of what is best for Faerghus, but the ideas you continue to nurture in regards to my person are nothing but poison for the country you claim to love. If you wish to go down the path of ruin, go on. But keep me out of your filthy games.”
With that, Rufus finally left- his steps at a quicker pace as he went straight for his quarters. That was enough being outside for the day.
-end.
old men bickering
continued from here | @cielenruine
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domjaehyun · 3 months ago
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under the influence (l.dh)
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PAIRING ▸ stoner!haechan x fem!reader WORD COUNT ▸ 11.6k WARNINGS ▸ a hint of dubcon (she’s timid but very much likes the attention), pervy!dom!haechan, shy!sub!reader, slight dacryphilia, corruption kink, finger sucking, oral (giving & receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, nipple play (receiving), marking, some cum eating, spit play, groping in public, panty stealing & sniffing PLAYLIST ▸ FYS - john concepcion, sweet release - kevin ross NOTES ▸ hii i hope you enjoy! any and all positive feedback is greatly appreciated, so send me an ask if you liked it or let me know in the tags pretty please :) 
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As you press the button to call the elevator, you start to get the jitters. They start in your fingertips and travel up your arms to the back of your neck, making the fine hairs there stand on end, and you shudder slightly, shaking your head in an attempt to do away with the sensation.
The doors open with a ding, and you jump at the sound, making Yeri look over at you in alarm.
“Are you okay?” she asks, worries, and you nod, albeit a bit too quickly and vigorously to be convincing. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” you say with a frown, and she rolls her eyes exaggeratedly. “Nothing!” you insist.
“You’re a horrible liar,” Karina reminds you, and your frown deepens. “But if you say so, I guess.” 
Relieved, you follow Yeri and Karina into the elevator and lean into the back corner of the shaft, resting your back against where the two walls meet. 
“We should watch a movie today,” Karina suggests excitedly, and she and Yeri fall into a discussion that you would join if you weren’t busy thinking about Haechan and whatever stunts he’s going to pull today. 
It takes three calls of your name from Karina and a vigorous shake from Yeri to snap you out of it, and you look at them sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck. 
“Girl, where do you keep going? Every time I look over at you, you’re in la-la land.” Yeri asks, concerned and amused.
“Sorry, I was just… thinking.” you mumble.
“We know that,” Yeri says with a chuckle and roll of her eyes. “Thinking about what, hm?” she presses, and you balk.
“She’s probably thinking about Haechan and what stunts he’s gonna pull today.” Karina supposes, and you frown, upset you’ve been caught.
In your defense, Haechan is always up to shenanigans when you’re around; he pulls at your skirt to fluster you, plays with your hair to get your attention, strokes under your chin just to watch your eyes glaze over—you name it, he’s either done it or is probably thinking about it.
You can’t honestly say his advances are unwelcome because, well, you’ve had a crush on him for the past six months. But something about him is so intense, so jarringly locked in, that it makes you hesitate, and being the object of his full and undivided attention never fails to make you the shyest version of yourself, and you manage to make a fool of yourself almost every single time you get around him, and you have no idea how you’re going to deal with his antics today. 
“Girl.” Karina’s voice cuts through the fog in your brain and you blink hard, focusing on your friend’s concerned expression. “You’re doing it again.”
“Oh. Sorry,” you mutter, rubbing your arm awkwardly. “I’m here, for real.”
As the bell dings and the doors open, the three of you file out of the elevator, walking towards the end of the hall to your destination.
“If you need help with him, let us know. We can make up a code word!” Karina suggests helpfully, and you smile, endeared by your friend’s attempt to calm your nerves.
“What should it be?” you wonder, and she screws her face up thoughtfully.
“Blinker.” Yeri answers, and you both turn to look at her. “It should be blinker. Like, if he’s getting too close and you can’t handle it, you can just say you kinda wanna try hitting a blinker or something like that.”
“The last time I hit a blinker, I coughed for ten minutes straight and it was the most painful experience of my life.” Karina recalls, grimacing at the memory. “It’s perfect.”
“Great.” Yeri says, smiling reassuringly at you before the three of you stop in front of the apartment door. Without a second thought, Yeri knocks three times on the door, stepping back to where you two are standing and waits with you for someone to open the door.
It opens a moment later to reveal Haechan standing in the doorway, one hand on the doorframe and the other holding the door, and you wonder how such a simple stance has you short of breath.
He looks at Karina and Yeri, smiling pleasantly, before he locks eyes with you. Slowly wetting his lips, his eyes slowly drag up and down your frame, taking in your outfit and appearance before he meets your gaze once more and drops one eyelid into a flirtatious wink.
“Come on in,” he invites, stepping back to let Karina and Yeri in. When it’s your turn to pass, he moves closer, deliberately blocking part of your way so you have to brush by him to enter, and you’re sure it’s also no coincidence that he’s positioned himself so your chest has to brush against his. You swallow your nerves and continue walking past him, not daring to look back in case he’s looking at you; which, if today is anything like every other day you all hang out, he most certainly is. 
Shutting the door behind you, Haechan follows after the three of you into the living room, but waits, standing, by the chair where Mark sits—for what, you don’t know. You wave hello to Mark in his favorite armchair and Jeno on one end of the couch, who greet you pleasantly and resume their tasks of packing the bong and rolling a joint, respectively. Mildly confused but saying nothing at Haechan’s behavior, you take a seat at the other end of the couch, only for Haechan to move at last, crossing the living room to sit directly next to you.
Your throat dries up at the prospect of being so close to him, and you inhale shakily, wanting desperately to roll your eyes back in your head when you catch a whiff of his intoxicating cologne.
Haechan doesn’t say anything for a moment, just rests one elbow on his knee and observes you with his cheek in his palm. His expression is nothing short of desiring as he takes in your appearance, your burgundy pleated skirt and short-sleeved cream blouse apparently quite the fascinating little number to him, causing you to shift awkwardly in your seat and self-consciously tug your skirt down a bit.
“Relax,” he chuckles. “I’m staring at you because you look good,” Haechan compliments, eyeing you appreciatively. “You always look good, though, but today… damn.”
You blink at him, stunned by the flirtatious lilt to his voice, and mumble, “Oh.”
“Oh?” he mimics you, chuckling, and you furrow your brows, frowning at his teasing. His brows lift up as his face brightens with amusement, and he shakes his head slowly with a smile.
“Thank you.” you say softly, and he nods, smile widening. 
“You’re so cute.” he murmurs, eyes locked on yours. Your eyes dart around, looking everywhere but at him, but he recaptures your attention when he snickers quietly and you meet his gaze to see he’s no longer looking at your eyes, but your lips, and there’s a distinct longing in his stare that unnerves you and, if you’re honest, piques your curiosity. “Did you make it here okay?”
“Yeah,” you mumble quietly, eyes shifting back and forth from his eyes to your lap before you give into temptation and look at his lips, regretting it instantly when they quirk up into a smirk as he catches you looking. “The bus was basically empty, and it had heating today.”
“Mm, that’s good to hear,” he muses, running his fingers through his hair, and you attempt to hide the way you swallow thickly at the attractive sight. “We don’t want anyone pressing up against such a pretty girl and trying anything sleazy, right?”
“Um…” you trail off, managing to restrain the reply on the tip of your tongue that Haechan is probably the most likely candidate to press up against you and try something sleazy.
“...Right.” he finishes for you, and you nibble your bottom lip.
“...Right.” you echo, and he grins. 
“So… Do you wanna smoke?” he asks.
“I do,” you confirm shyly, and he smiles slightly, no doubt amused by your nervousness.
“Good girl. Did you wanna hit my pen? It’s pretty strong.” he offers, and you won’t lie—your brain blanks for a minute at the praise, but you’re pretty sure you manage to recover just in time for Haechan not to notice anything.  
“Okay,” you reply hesitantly, and he grins.
“Great—give me one second to get something.” he says before standing up and heading to the back of the apartment to his room. You wait fairly patiently, fingers lightly drumming on your knee as you wait for him to return.
“What’s up?” Mark asks curiously.
“Haechan’s getting something from his room.” you explain, and Mark nods slowly, lips pursed thoughtfully.
Haechan returns from the back of the apartment after a moment with a new cartridge in his hand. You watch with mild fascination as he deftly switches the cartridges in his pen, taking a test pull and holding it in for so much time, you’d swear he’s trying to show off.
When he looks over at you and winks before blowing it out, your suspicions are confirmed. 
“This strain is special,” Haechan murmurs to you, and his eyes drop to your lips as he continues, “it’s a ‘horny’ strain.”
“A horny strain?” you mumble, confused, and he nods with a grin.
“It heightens libido.” he adds, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. “Want some?”
“That’s not real,” Mark calls out from across the living room, and you crane your head to see him. “There’s no actual science to back that up.”
Haechan scoffs, rolling his eyes. “No one signed up for your TEDTalk on weed; save it.”
Mark grumbles something about misinformation being the death of society but remains otherwise silent.
Haechan calls your attention back to him with a simple clearing of the throat, and you look back at him to see his gaze heavy-lidded and sultry as he regards you, and you start to wonder if Mark might actually be the misinformed one.
“Want some?” he repeats his question from earlier, and you hesitate, making him roll his eyes and chuckle. “It’s not gonna bite you.” As you shift closer to take the pen from him, he holds it out of your reach with a glint in his eye. “I might, though,” he murmurs, and you swallow thickly.
He scans your frame, eyes lingering on your almost outstretched hand, and takes a slow, deep pull from the pen, not holding it in for nearly as long before he’s leaning towards you suddenly, making you yelp and draw back.
“Relax,” he mumbles, some of the smoke slipping from his mouth. He cups your chin in his hand and tugs gently to get you to open your mouth before leaning closer, so close that you fear your lips might touch, leading you to attempt to pull back; however, Haechan’s grip on your chin tightens, a clear sign to stay where you are, and he blows the smoke into your mouth slowly. You’re deeply flustered at first, but your instincts kick in as you inhale the secondhand smoke, holding it in your lungs for a couple of seconds before blowing it back out.
When you’re done exhaling, you expect to pull back, but Haechan’s grip on you hasn’t loosened, the male now studying your lips with an intensity in his gaze that gives you a twinge of anxiety and something else you don’t have it in you to identify. 
“You ever shotgunned before?” he asks softly, and you shake your head as much as his hold on you will allow. “You did a good job.”
“Thanks,” you mumble meekly. “Can you let me go now?”
He rolls his eyes slowly, lips quirking into a cocky grin as he does just that, releasing your chin and sitting back. “If you say so.”
“Thanks,” you mutter quietly, and he flicks his brows upwards in acknowledgement, gaze scanning you before lingering for a moment by the side of your face. “What is it?”
“You have something in your hair,” he says, gesturing to near your ear. When you fail to retrieve the foreign object, he tsks in dissatisfaction before leaning over and gently removing a single white feather from your hair. “Probably from the pillows.” he explains, the backs of his fingers gently grazing your ear as he pulls back. When you squirm away from his touch slightly, the contact too sensitive and ticklish, Haechan chuckles softly. “Look how nervous I make you.” His fingers return to your ear, gently stroking the shell of your ear, and your face blazes with embarrassment and something else as he hums softly. “Even your ear is hot. Do I make you hot anywhere else?” He drops his hand, fingers lightly skimming your upper thigh, and you just about jump out of your skin, cursing internally when you see the delight in his expression.
“Thanks for getting the feather out of my hair,” you say in a desperate attempt to navigate the conversation elsewhere, but it seems Haechan isn’t quite set on letting you off that easily.
“Oh, come on,” he presses, sitting closer to you and leaning so close you can smell his (delicious) cologne. “Don’t tell me your heart isn’t racing right now.”
It is, you think grimly. That’s exactly what I’m trying to avoid.
“Haechan, leave the poor girl alone,” Karina calls from the other end of the couch, and the momentary waver in Haechan’s attention on you as his eyes dart elsewhere is all you need to scoot further back and smooth your skirt out with a vigorous clearing of your throat.
When Haechan looks back over at you, you’ve thankfully managed to regain a semblance of your composure, your gaze politely but pointedly focused at your hands in your lap.
“Pretty girl, you want another hit of the pen?” Haechan offers, and you think back to the way Haechan clutched your chin earlier to shotgun you, finally shaking your head in refusal. “Okay,” he relents, reaching into his back pocket for something and frowning before pulling out an empty hand. “I have something for you.” he says before standing up and heading back to his room.
He emerges once more with a half of a red gummy cube sticking out of his mouth, sitting back down on the couch and draping his arm over the back so it’s ghosting just over your shoulders. “Bite,” he urges through closed teeth, and you shoot him a wary look. “Bite,” he stresses, and you falter, not sure if you should.
“Is it an edible?” you ask cautiously, and he rolls his eyes, an amused chuckle leaving him. 
“Yes. Bite.” It’s not a request, and instead of getting huffy about him bossing you around, you’re more surprised than anyone else when you lean in and carefully bite the other end of the gummy, tugging your half away from his mouth before chewing it. It’s sweet and sugary, but there’s a definite strong aftertaste, a tongue-drying, almost numbing sensation that reminds you it was more than just a little snack. “See, you don’t mind sharing with me, right?”
You don’t answer, instead sitting back and pulling out your phone to fire off a quick text to your group chat consisting of the two girls sitting a little ways away from you and your fourth roommate, Yurin, who usually frequents these hangout sessions but had to pass this time to study for midterms.
you [18:11pm] SOS
you [18:11pm] he keeps being all TOUCHY TOUCHY what do i do?
You set your phone down on the couch face down and stand up, heading to the bathroom to calm your nerves. 
Little do you know, your phone buzzes while you’re gone, Haechan’s curiosity getting the better of him as he flips your phone over. 
Luckily for him, and very unluckily for you, you don’t have a privacy setting on your Messages app notifications, meaning that any incoming texts can be read by any prying eyes, no passcode necessary.
yurin big trouble mister [18:14pm] maybe tell him how you get all TOUCHY TOUCHY with yourself to the thought of him 😁
karina bo bina [18:16pm] god could you be any more crass??
yurin big trouble mister [18:17pm] LMAOOO i couldn’t help it the joke was right there
yeri berry [18:18pm] you’re laughing. our dear friend is about to get consumed by a weed smoking incubus and you’re laughing.
Haechan snorts to himself in amusement, deliberately leaving your phone face-up for your return. You enter the room shortly after, picking up your phone and scrolling through your notifications with a small frown bordering on a grimace.
“What’s got you all upset, pretty?” Haechan asks, feigning curiosity, and you flinch, locking your phone and tossing it in your lap in a panic. “And now you’re jumpy, too? What’s on that phone that’s got you so stressed out, hm?” 
“Nothing,” you answer far too quickly for your liking. 
“I don’t think it’s nothing,” Haechan persists, voice lowering in pitch and volume as he moves closer to you, eyes bright with excitement and something else you can’t quite place. “I think there’s something incriminating on that phone.”
“Incriminating?” you mumble, dazed and flustered, and Haechan nods slowly, lips curling into a wolfish grin. 
“Incriminating like… nudes, maybe,” he muses, tapping his chin thoughtfully, and at the sight of your confused face, shakes his head. “That must not be it. Maybe a message of some sort… from a friend…” You freeze as you realize exactly what’s going on, and Haechan’s grin only widens now that he can tell you know that he knows. “Wonder what you look like when you… how did she put it? ‘Get all touchy touchy with yourself’ to the thought of me.” 
“Haechan,” you murmur, heart rate quickening as you try to think of any possible way out of this conversation. “It’s not what you think it is.”
“I think it’s exactly what I think it is.” he counters with a mischievous wiggle of his brows, and you whimper in panic, desire starting to blaze in his eyes at the sound. 
“What were you doing looking at my phone, anyway?” you accuse, cursing to yourself as your voice shakes slightly.
“I’m nosy,” is all he offers in response. “And, oh, please, you wanted me to see that text. You wanted me to know that late at night,” he teases, pulling your hand closest to him away as you squeal and try to cover your ears, “you touch your pretty little pussy,” he forces your hand back down between you two with a chuckle, “and think about me.”
“Could you lower your voice, please?” you mumble nervously, and he just laughs.
“You don’t want everyone to know that you’re into me, do you?” he remarks, and you swallow thickly, looking down at your lap. “I’ll keep your little secret. For a price.”
You study him out of the corner of your eye suspiciously. “What price?”
He strokes his chin thoughtfully before leaning back and draping his arm behind you on the couch. “I’ll let you know.” His voice is teasing but there’s an ominous edge to his voice that makes you gulp.
“Hey, Yeri?” you call, and her attention is on you instantly. “Remember when, um, you hit that blinker earlier? How’s your throat feeling?”
Her eyes widen almost imperceptibly in understanding and she rubs her throat gingerly, frowning deeply. “It’s still sore. Wanna come get some water with me?”
“Yes,” you accept the offer gratefully and practically spring up from the couch, following after Yeri and ignoring, to the best of your ability, Haechan’s little snicker from behind you.
“You wanna switch seats?” Yeri asks in a low, concerned voice as you two enter the kitchen, and she laughs when you hesitate.
“I mean, I like it, I just… need a quick break.” you mumble, and she nods, pouring herself a glass of water. “Could you guys, um, hear him earlier?”
“No… why?” she scrutinizes you, and you blink, flustered. 
“He saw the group chat texts.” you mutter, and her eyes widen in alarm, setting her glass down a bit too harshly, the loud clink resonating throughout the room.
“I’m gonna kill Yurin.” she hisses.
“Not if I get there first.” you huff, and she snickers. Footsteps sound out from the living room, making their way to the kitchen, and Yeri pauses. “It’s not Haechan,” you assure her. “I think it’s Karina.”
Sure enough, Karina enters the kitchen, and Yeri looks at you in surprise. “How’d you know?”
“I recognize the footsteps.” you explain with a shrug. “Plus, the guys are wearing house slippers and we’re in, like, socks, so it makes a different sound.”
“Okay, little miss super spy.” Yeri teases with a laugh, and you giggle, pushing her playfully. “Have you recovered, you think?”
“Yeah,” you confirm, smiling. “I’m ready to go back out there.”
“What’d I miss?” Karina whines, and Yeri looks at you expectantly.
“Haechan saw the texts about me… at night… that Yurin sent.” you explain carefully, and Karina lets out a loud gasp, her hand flying to cover her mouth.
“I’m killing her.” she groans, and you and Yeri chuckle.
“Get in line, girl.” Yeri says, and Karina snorts in amusement.
“You’re gonna be okay if we go back out there, right?” Karina asks worriedly, and you’re briefly overcome with appreciation for your friends.
“I’ll be okay, I’m pretty sure. I’ll just say blinker again if anything goes wrong.” you confirm, nodding resolutely, and the crease between Karina’s brows fades away as she relaxes.
You three make your way back to the living room, fully preparing to sit back down, but thankfully, before Haechan can torment you further, Jeno inadvertently saves your life and whatever’s left of your dignity by standing up from the couch abruptly and clapping his hands together. “I’m hungry. Diner?”
“I would kill for waffles,” Karina agrees, and Mark and Haechan also stand and start to grab their belongings as you all make your way to the door and slip your shoes on. 
As you shuffle between Yeri and Karina for protection and wait as the elevator descends to the indoor garage of the apartment complex, a tickle starts to build in your throat, making you clear it quietly, then more insistently when the sensation persists. 
“You okay?” Haechan asks, hand poised over your back to pat it in assistance, and you nod.
“My throat is just… a little dry,” you mumble, and Haechan nods in understanding, reaching into his jacket and handing you a Blow Pop. “Thanks,” you mutter, pleasantly surprised as you unwrap the lollipop and stick it into your mouth. By the time the doors open on the garage floor, the flavored saliva produced by the sweet treat sitting in your cheek has almost entirely soothed your throat, and you’re feeling significantly better. 
The six of you make your way to where Jeno’s and Haechan’s cars are parked beside each other and stand behind the two cars, silently deliberating amongst yourselves.
“Well, I call shotgun.” Mark calls out, and Jeno unlocks his car, Mark sliding into the passenger seat.
“There’s no way all six of us are gonna cram into Jeno’s car,” Yeri remarks incredulously. 
“Yeah, definitely not, because my middle backseat’s seat belt isn’t working and the airbag sensors are fucked up, so it’s a seat belt or nothing in my car.” Jeno laments, and your skin starts to crawl as you realize where this might be heading. 
“So your car only seats four… and there are six of us…” you say slowly, pulling the lollipop from your lips with a muted wet pop that has Haechan eyeing you like a lion about to corner the slowest gazelle of the herd. Usually, there are seven of you, so even if you had to ride with Haechan, there’d be a third body present in the form of the lovably boisterous Yurin.
Curse Yurin’s midterms, and curse Yurin for sending that text, and curse yourself for leaving your phone where Haechan could see, and curse Haechan for being nosy—
“I’ll ride with Haechan,” Karina offers, noticing the way you become more and more quiet as you sink further into your worries. 
“No, you won’t.” Haechan says, leaning against his passenger door. Everyone looks over at him, and he just pushes off of the door, opening it and pointing directly at you. “Get in.”
“Oh, gosh.” you mumble, and you’re not sure if it’s the weed effect making you feel sluggish or you’re really that apprehensive, but you feel a bit like a puppet with sandbags for shoes, your feet hesitantly shuffling, dragging, scuffling towards Haechan’s passenger door.
“It’s an eight-minute drive,” Yeri calls to you sympathetically, and you nod, shooting her a feeble thumbs up that you don’t even believe. “We’ll see you soon!” 
“Yeah,” you croak, feeling very much like a lamb being led to slaughter, and Haechan smiles sweetly at you, baring all his teeth as you sit in his car. He closes the passenger door and crosses over to the driver’s side, opening the door and getting in. 
When Haechan finishes settling down into the driver’s seat, checking his mirror views and pulling up the GPS to the diner, he straps himself in and looks over at you, eyes scanning your frame for something—you don’t quite know what. Seemingly done with his inspection, he leans closer to you without warning and reaches for the seat belt buckle in your chair, pulling it out and over your body as he clicks it into place. The whole while, he’s invading your personal space, your breath catching in your throat as you realize his face is close enough to yours that you could probably count his lashes if you wanted to.
He turns his head ever so slightly, eyes locking on yours, and you blink rapidly in alarm, rendered immobile as he studies your face.
“You look so cute, all innocent and helpless like this.” he murmurs softly, and the tiniest of squeaks escapes you, his eyes flashing with glee at the sound. “Now stop looking at me like that,” he warns, “or I’ll kiss you.”
You blanch, trying immediately to make any other expression than the one you didn’t even know you were sporting, and he chuckles before sitting back in his seat and starting his car. He turns the air conditioning on—a strange choice, considering it’s a bit nippy outside—and pulls out of his spot, starting to drive towards the diner.
It doesn’t take long for you to get cold, goosebumps gradually appearing on your arms and legs, but you’re a bit too nervous to say anything, instead suffering in silence. You clasp your hands together in your lap, rubbing them together for warmth, and, as he stops at a red light, Haechan looks over at you, watching in fascination as you shift in your seat for any sort of friction that could warm you. After a moment, you notice his eyes fixated pointedly on your chest, and you spare a glance down to see, to your alarm, that your nipples are hard, starting to poke through your clothing, and you curse internally for wearing a thin, lacy bra that does nothing to conceal your stiffened buds.
He swipes his tongue over his bottom lip, smirking in what seems like satisfaction, before refocusing his attention on the road. You cross your arms over your chest protectively, tucking your fingers into the crooks of your elbows as he drives down the road.
“We’re here,” he announces after some time, pulling into a parking spot in front of the diner and turning the car off. The cold air blowing through the vents shuts off, much to your relief, and you unbuckle your seat belt before he gets the chance, practically flinging yourself out of the car into the significantly less cold night air.
As you all file into the diner, you notice a man staring very pointedly at you and your bare legs and your chest, where your nipples have yet to go down. 
Haechan scans the room, catches sight of the man, and follows his gaze back to where you stand, his jaw clenching.
“Put this on,” Haechan murmurs, shrugging off his jacket and offering it to you. You start to take it, eager for warmth, but pause, looking at him suspiciously.
“Why?”
His gaze flicks over your shoulder at where the man from earlier sits, and understanding dawns on you. “Just—put it on for me?” 
You nod, gratefully accepting the jacket, and Haechan steps closer, draping it over your shoulders and helping you put your arms through the sleeves. 
“Thank you,” you say quietly, and he nods.
“You look cute in my jacket.” he remarks with a small smirk, and your cheeks warm.
“Thank you,” you mumble, and he trails his tongue along his bottom lip before gesturing for you to follow after him with a jerk of his head, a quick peek past him revealing the hostess who’s arrived to take you all to your seats.
When you arrive at the booth, Haechan’s right by you, gesturing for you to go in first. You do so without complaint, preferring the inner seat anyway, but it’s when Haechan slides in next to you that you realize your mistake as he closes you into the booth corner, the main obstacle between you and freedom from, well, him.
As the hostess passes out menus and you all start to look them over, you feel the side of his hand resting against the side of your thigh, making you attempt to shift away from his hand, the touch too intimate for you to handle at the moment.
Somehow, his hand finds its way back against your leg, palm turned up slightly as he lightly grazes his fingertips along your thigh, and you suck in a sharp breath, doing your best to pass it off as a cough when Haechan looks over at you, eyes twinkling with amusement.
“I think I’m gonna get the breakfast platter,” Yeri says excitedly. “It comes with pancakes, eggs prepared how you want them, homefries, and your choice of meat.” 
“That sounds so good,” you reply thoughtfully. “I think I want a burger.” 
“Yeah, a burger sounds good,” Haechan agrees, eyes slowly sliding over to study your reaction as he flattens his palm against your leg, slowly sliding it up to caress your upper thigh. Your reaction must be nothing short of rewarding, as you jolt so forcefully that you shake the table slightly, and he chuckles softly.
“You okay, girl?” Karina asks, worried, and you nod, swallowing thickly.
“I just, um…felt a tickle on my ankle. Thought it was a bug or something.” you mumble, and she nods, eyebrows still furrowed in concern.
“I know I said waffles earlier, but I kind of want these barbecue ribs,” Karina says, pointing at an entry on the menu, but you can barely make your gaze focus on where her finger touches the menu because Haechan’s hand is still very much on your thigh, and to make matters worse, you think you like it.
His hand slides up higher, the side of his thumb slipping under the hem of your skirt, and you raise your glass to your lips in an attempt to act natural, hoping and praying no one notices the way your hand is shaking slightly.
Haechan leans in closer to you, murmuring in your ear, “This must be a dream come true for you, huh?” He grips your thigh firmly, not even attempting to play it off as a casual touch anymore, and you barely manage to stifle your yelp of surprise in time. “Must have been wanting this for so long,” he breathes secretively, smiling lips grazing the shell of your ear so subtly, no one else would notice unless they were paying unnaturally close attention.
You, however, do notice. Not only do you notice, but you suck in a sharp breath of surprise, the sudden movement making the water in your cup slosh forward and spill out slightly, a few droplets dripping down your chin.
You suck your teeth in mild irritation, glaring at Haechan as you reach for your napkin, but he’s faster, his free hand coming up and wiping the liquid off of your chin.  
“Um, thanks.” you mumble, and he nods, locking eyes with you as he licks at the pad of his thumb, cleaning off the water droplets with his mouth. “Oh, dear Neptune.” you whisper to yourself, feeling more and more overwhelmed by the moment. “Where is this waitress—I need to eat something.”
“Yeah, we should let her know we’re ready to order,” Mark says, waving a hand out to flag down the waitress. As she approaches, you sneak a peek at Haechan, whose expression is surprisingly calm and neutral given the sensual, slow circles he’s drawing on your upper thigh with his thumb.
Haechan’s hand slips further in between your legs, getting dangerously close to your core, and you decide that’s enough play time for him, clamping your legs together forcefully.
“You trapped my hand, pretty girl,” he points out with a growing grin, and you ignore him even as he continues, “I didn’t know you liked it that much.”
You still don’t give him a response, staring stubbornly out the booth window, and he chuckles before withdrawing his hand from your legs with such ease that you wonder if he was ever really stuck there.
“Oh, we’re doing the silent treatment? Copy that.” he muses, nodding slowly in understanding, and you can’t help but wonder what else he has in store for you.
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Today, the energy in the room is entirely different—and you don’t like it one bit.
Haechan won’t even acknowledge you today; his eyes skip over you when he scans the room like you’re not even there, or, worse, he seems to be looking completely through you at times, completely unaffected by your presence.
“Girl, did you piss Haechan off or something?” Yeri whispers to you, and your brows knit together as you shake your head. “He hasn’t made a single move on you all day.”
“I know,” you mutter bitterly.
“Maybe he’s sick,” Karina supplies in an attempt to help, but her words practically fall on deaf ears as you stare burning holes into the side of his face as he laughs at something Mark said.
“I’m about to be sick,” you mumble, your stomach twisting uncomfortably as your somewhat secret crush that used to be obsessed with you treats you like you’re nothing more than a couch cushion.
You don’t know what’s come over you, but when Haechan gets up and heads towards the kitchen. you find yourself standing to follow, mumbling that you’ll be right back to Karina.
Haechan stands with his back to you at the kitchen island, pouring a can of something—it looks like Monster—into a glass, and you take a moment to admire his slender yet lean build, the curve of his shoulders and the perfectly mussed up state of his hair—
“I know you’re there, you know.” he says calmly, and your eyes widen as you immediately attempt to look busy doing anything other than blatantly ogling him. He turns right when you’ve reached for a bag of Ruffles chips and raises an eyebrow expectantly. “You have something you want to say?”
“What do you mean?” you ask, slightly thrown off-guard, and he blinks at you impassively.
“I noticed you staring at me,” is all he says in response, and you blanch, pursing your lips carefully.
“Haechan, are you mad at me?” you ask softly, and he smirks.
“And why do you ask that?”
You fidget with the hem of your skirt nervously, averting your gaze to look at the granite countertop. “Well, you… haven’t talked to me all night.”
Haechan doesn’t say anything for a concerningly long time, prompting you to look up at him and immediately wish you hadn’t. He looks beyond smug, and painfully attractive as he leans in slightly, not close enough to get in your space but close enough to send a thrill down your spine. 
“You were giving me the silent treatment the other day, right?” he reminds you, and you hesitate, realizing you were the cause for his radio silence. “I was just returning the favor.”
“Well, don’t.” you say with a frown, and he raises his eyebrows, amused and surprised.
“Why not? Did you miss me or something?” he teases, and you balk, losing all your nerve as quickly as you’d found it.
“No!” you answer quickly, and he arches an eyebrow skeptically, prompting you to continue, “No, I just—”
“You and I don’t really talk much, anyway,” Haechan muses, leaning his back against the island as he regards you with a cocky glint in his eyes. “So what is it you really miss, hm?”
“Well—” you struggle to find your words, and something softens in Haechan’s gaze, the cocky twinkle now accompanied with a smile bordering dangerously on fondness.
“You miss me messing with you, don’t you?” he asks, and at your lack of response, nods in confirmation. “You miss me touching you?” he questions, dragging out the syllables excruciatingly slowly. He sucks his teeth when you still don’t reply and says, “I know you do. You know you do. Now just admit it.”
“I can’t,” you protest weakly, and he shrugs, raising his hands in surrender.
“You want me to touch you again? Give me what I want.” He sounds dead serious and painfully unwavering on his stance, prompting you to whimper quietly to yourself, too wrapped up in your own nerves to notice the way his eyes darken at the sound of your desperation.
“I want you to touch me.” you mumble shamefully, and his lips quirk up into the beginnings of a smile. 
“Come here; say it again.” he urges, beckoning you closer, and you hesitate, making a challenge flash in his expression before he’s poking his tongue into the inside of his cheek and chuckling. “Don’t make me come over there.”
“I want you,” you say, “to touch me,” you repeat your words from earlier, trying desperately to look anywhere but at him.
You can see him crossing the distance between you in your peripheral vision, your insides tensing with anticipation as he gets closer and closer. To your utter disappointment, he continues to walk as if he’s going to pass you, only pausing to tilt his head to the side in a patronizing display of faux sympathy.
“Good girl. Now, was that so hard?” he chuckles, not even giving you a chance to respond before he continues his path out of the kitchen, leaving you alone with your thoughts.
What in the absolute hell did you just get yourself into?
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You’re coming back from the bathroom when you quite literally almost run into Haechan in the hallway. 
“Sorry,” you say, stepping to the side to get past, but he steps to the same side. You laugh awkwardly before stepping to the other side, only for him to do the same, his movements far too calculated to be a mistake, and you come to the realization that he’s intentionally blocking your path. “Haechan?” you ask quietly, nervousness creeping into your voice, and he chuckles.
He takes a step towards you, prompting you to take a cautious one backwards, and his smile widens as he advances on you, slowly but surely herding you back towards the bathroom. When your back hits the nearby wall, your eyes widen, and he mocks you, briefly widening his eyes in faux surprise before flicking his brows up suggestively and placing one hand on the wall by your head on the side you could escape from, successfully trapping you in a makeshift corner. 
“You’re so cute, really.” Haechan sighs, smiling fondly at you, but there’s a devious twinkle in his eye as he regards you.
As he closes in on you, your body is alight with nerves and anticipation, and you decide to try again, feebly calling, “...Haechan?”
“Shh, shh, shh,” he quiets you soothingly, reaching up with his free hand to brush your hair out of your face. “Don’t act like you don’t want this, baby.” As if to prove his point, he presses his knee between your legs, thigh pressing up against your clothed core, and a poorly restrained moan bubbles up in your throat.
“Haechan—” you whine, and he shoots you a smug smile.
“See, baby? I know you want it. You know I want it. That’s why you always wear these tiny fucking skirts whenever you come over,” he states, hand dropping from your face to tug at the hem of your skirt, and you gasp—both at the sudden yanking and the insistent pressing of his thigh against your core. “You like it when I do this. Bet you were waiting for me to slip my hands under your skirt to touch you.”
“Mm-mm,” you protest, but the way your hips move against him, rolling back and forth and grinding wantonly in search of relief, is telling another story, Haechan arching a brow skeptically. 
“Mm, no? You don’t like it? But, wait… what was that you said in the kitchen earlier?” he questions, a taunting lilt to his words. “‘I want you to touch me,’” he echoes your earlier request in a poor imitation of your voice. “Well, I’m touching you, baby—don’t you like it?” When your only reply is a small nod, he shakes his head disapprovingly, gaze darkening. “Words.”
“Yes,” you whimper, breath catching in your throat when he rewards you with a firm upwards press of his thigh into your core. Your movements speed up slightly as you feel that familiar tightening sensation in your abdomen, your climax not far ahead.
“Are you gonna cum just like this?” he asks, and there’s a hint of amusement to his words but it’s almost entirely overtaken by the heavy desire in his voice. 
“Mm-hm,” you whine softly, your desperation peaking as your high gets closer and closer. 
“Beg me to let you cum.” he urges, and you’re already so far gone that your shame is all but done away with.
“Please, Haechan, can I cum?” you pant urgently, a slight pleading quality to your words as you feel the beginnings of your climax, pleasure blooming between your legs in a gush of warmth. “Please?” you whimper, and something in him snaps, Haechan lurching forward and cupping your face in his hands to hold you in place as he kisses you deeply, his tongue tracing along your lower lip as you tremble and moan weakly into his mouth. 
When you move to pull away to breathe, he clutches your face more firmly, slipping his tongue into your mouth and exploring at his leisure, all the while ignoring your muffled, plaintive cries for air. 
“Haechan, I can’t breathe,” you rasp out finally, and he lets you go with a shaky inhale and an unmistakable reluctance. 
“You are so goddamn addicting.” he pants, and his hands drop to your hips, resuming the motions you weren’t aware you’d stopped. “Keep going.”
His hands keep guiding your movements, practically dragging you back and forth on his thigh as he kisses you again. This kiss is messier than the last as he sucks on your tongue and pulls back to trail his lips down your neck, stopping just above your pulse point and sucking hard, a gasp escaping you at the pleasurable sensation.
“Mine,” he grunts against your throat, sinking his teeth into a new patch of skin and sucking there, too, without a doubt leaving some form of mark behind. “All fucking mine.” he repeats, clutching your hips tighter and dragging you up his leg and closer to him, lips parting from your neck with a loud, wet pop and connecting with yours eagerly. “Gonna fucking ruin you, princess.”
“Hae—” you barely get the first syllable of his name out before he’s sealing his mouth over yours again, fingers creeping into the kiss to pry your mouth open.
“Open,” he mutters, brows furrowed in concentration. When you oblige, he taps your tongue impatiently until you let it hang out of your mouth, Haechan sucking in a deep breath as he eyes you appreciatively. Without any warning or preamble, Haechan spits directly onto your tongue, and you whimper, voice cracking slightly. “Swallow. I’m gonna do it again.” You swallow his saliva, the extra moisture in your mouth jarring but not unwelcome, and return to your previous pose of your mouth open with your tongue hanging out. 
He grins and leans in again, hovering over your waiting tongue as he drops a long, clear string of saliva from his puckered lips down to your mouth. “Don’t swallow.” He pulls back from you slightly and pushes his middle and ring finger into your mouth, the cool silver of his ring catching your taste buds as he thrusts his fingers in and out of your mouth, gliding them against your tongue to collect as much wetness as he can. “Good girl,” he coos, pleased, and you’re embarrassed by the rush of warmth between your legs that appears at the praise. “Need them nice and wet for you.”
Not wasting a minute, he snakes his slick, spit-covered fingers past the band of your underwear and starts to stroke over your folds, digits gliding amongst your arousal with embarrassing ease. 
“You’re a mess down here,” he remarks, eyes alight with glee and something wild, primal as he teases you. “You like me that much? Hm?” He seems not to need an answer as he grins cockily at you, eyes scanning your face intently to drink in your every reaction to his touch, no matter how small. He trails his fingers up, up, up until he’s brushing the underside of your clit, and you jolt, flinching away. 
“Haechan, that’s sensitive—”
“I know, baby,” he coos. “That’s exactly why I’m doing it.” With the hand not currently in your underwear, he laces his fingers with yours, the back of his hand pressed against the palm of your own, and trails your linked hands down your body to join his other hand in your underwear. “Show me,” he rasps, and you blink at him, too far gone to fully understand exactly what he means. “Show me how you do it when you’re alone—when you think of me.”
Cheeks blazing, you realize you’re in no position to refuse, so you guide his hand into massaging your clit in circles, your abdomen tensing reflexively whenever his fingers graze the sensitive underside of your clit. 
“Talk to me, baby.” he urges gently, and you whine in protest, the fire in your face increasing nearly tenfold. “Wanna hear that pretty voice tell me how you touch your little pussy.”
“I just rub it in circles like this,” you mumble, voice slightly husky with desire, and the shift doesn’t go unnoticed, if the intensifying of Haechan’s gaze means anything. 
“You don’t go inside?” he asks softly, and you shake your head.
“Doesn’t feel good when I do it,” you whimper, and he sucks in air sharply, swearing under his breath as he watches your face twist in pleasure. It’s all too much for you, having his undivided attention on you like this, and you look away, a shudder traveling through your body as another climax approaches.
“Look at me,” he coaxes, and you reluctantly oblige, pleading eyes locking on his as your peak gets closer by the second. “Only look at me.”
“Okay,” you agree, the last syllable coming out like more of a squeak, and he smiles brilliantly, the hand not pleasuring you slipping out of your underwear and lifting your shirt up to reveal your breasts in your thin, lacy light blue bra. Leaning down, he wraps his lips around one of your nipples through the fabric and starts to suck, tongue swirling around the stiffening bud so wetly that his saliva starts to darken the fabric, the warmth of his spit seeping through the fabric. 
He sucks at your nipples with an almost ferocity, alternating breasts like he can’t get enough of either, and his hand snakes around your back to unclasp your bra, Haechan pushing the garment out of the way as soon as it’s loose and latching onto your nipple with a low groan of satisfaction.
As he flicks your nipple back and forth with his tongue, his fingers stroke you closer and closer to your high until you’re so close you can practically taste the sweet, heady feeling of ecstasy. “Show me what you sound like when you cum, baby.”
“Oh—shit—oh, my God,” you hiss as your eyes screw shut tight, pleasure coursing through your body as your orgasm travels through your system. “Feels so good,” you whimper, and he hums in agreement.
“Say my name, baby.”
“Haechan—” you moan wantonly, and he lets out a noise somewhere between a groan and a growl as he tugs at your nipple with his teeth.
He doesn’t stop attending to your breasts until he’s certain he’s milked every last second of bliss from your body, alternating between sucking and flicking and swirling his tongue around the buds until you go limp, your body slumping against the wall for support. 
Finally, he pulls his arousal-coated fingers from your underwear, trailing them over your bottom lip before pushing the digits into your mouth to suck. 
You do so with an embarrassing amount of eagerness, and are just as surprised as Haechan when he pulls his fingers from your mouth and you whine in protest.
His brows shoot up into his hairline and you feel heat blazing furiously in your cheeks as he regards you with a mix of surprise and an expression that looks close to impressed.
“You like to suck, yeah?” he murmurs, and you nod hesitantly. Something flashes in his dark eyes, and he grins. “Wanna suck something bigger?”
Hesitant but undoubtedly excited, you nod, and he wets his lips before setting about unbuckling his belt and opening his jeans. 
As he does, you slowly sink to your knees, and when he looks up from his pants to see you kneeling before him, he lets out a loud swear that you fear might blow your cover.
As you stare in awe at his impressive size, you realize you’re less worried about getting caught than you are about having to stop. He watches you watch him with amusement and fascination, but the undercurrent of desire runs strong as he clicks his tongue to get your attention. 
You look up at him, and he licks his lips, exhaling a small puff of air before wrapping a hand around his base.
“This is the prettiest sight I’ve ever laid eyes on,” he praises, and you smile, heat rising to your cheeks once more. Lowering himself slightly, he cups your breasts, pressing them together and grunting, “I’m gonna fuck these one day. But now?” he says, releasing them and stroking your chin affectionately. “I’m gonna fuck this pretty mouth.”
“You ever suck someone off, baby?” he asks in a low voice, and you shake your head, making his eyes slide shut in bliss as he squeezes himself harder. “Fuck, I’m your first?”
“Yes,” you mumble shyly, and he coos affectionately at you, leaning down slightly to cup your chin with his free hand. 
“Remember when you were sucking that little lollipop the other day?” he asks, and you nod. “It’s kind of like that. Use your tongue, and the wetter it is, the better.”
You nod carefully and sit forward, letting your jaw drop open. 
“Fuck, baby. Tongue out for me?” he grunts, and you oblige, letting your tongue drop out of your mouth and lie flat for him. “So good, baby, just like that,” he encourages, leaning forward and guiding the head of his cock into your mouth. 
It feels strange but not unwelcome, and you suck gently at the head of his cock, more focused on using your tongue to explore the intrusion in your mouth. Based on the way Haechan’s breathing shallows and quickens, you suspect you’re doing a pretty good job.
“Baby, you’re so good at this,” he groans, his head tipping back before it snaps back up as he seemingly realizes he’d rather watch you. “Mouth looks so pretty wrapped around my cock like that.”
You can only manage a whimper as you boldly press forward, taking more of his length into your mouth, and he sucks in a sharp breath as you swirl your tongue around his length before tentatively flicking it over the slit in the head of his cock. He groans weakly and, emboldened, you do it again, Haechan letting out a delicious little grunt that spurs you to kick it up another notch.
You start to bob your head, doing your best to alternate between bobbing and licking, and Haechan shudders deeply, his hand releasing the rest of his cock and moving to cup the back of your head, fingers slipping into your hair. 
“Just like that—fuck—” he hisses, biting his lip as he watches you suck him off, skill increasing with every movement. When you push forward a bit too suddenly, eager to impress him, you choke briefly on his length, throat constricting slightly as your gag reflex activates slightly. “Oh, shit—”
Despite the slight ache to the back of your throat, you keep sucking, moving forward slower this time to allow your throat time to adjust to his size. When you massage the underside of his tip with your tongue, wet muscle gliding over the ridge of skin, he moans your name and it’s one of the most rewarding sounds you think you’ve ever heard.
“So good,” he pants as you bob your head up and down, and his length twitches in your mouth, giving you a hint that he’s close. “Gonna cum, baby.”
You move your head faster, sucking his length to the best of your ability with all the tricks you just learned, and his fingers grip your hair tightly as he spills into your mouth, his hips sluggishly thrusting forward as he shallowly fucks your mouth. 
“You,” he grunts, helping you to your feet so you’re face to face and kissing you deeply, “are a fast little learner.” His tongue slips between your lips and he explores your mouth eagerly, licking at your tongue and inner cheeks as you whimper, dizzied by the fervor of his kisses. 
“Baby,” he mumbles into the kiss, the urgency in his voice waking you up slightly, “I wanna eat you out. Can I taste you, princess?” When you nod, he grins brilliantly. “Gonna make you feel so good.”
He drops to his knees and slides his hands up from your ankles, hands slipping under your skirt to caress your hips. Pulling your underwear off, he drapes one of your legs over his shoulder, warm, slender fingers spreading apart your folds to get a better look at you.
When you whine softly in embarrassment, he shushes you gently, murmuring, “I just want to admire you for a second, baby, please?” He ducks his head under your skirt and sucks in a sharp breath when he’s met with the sight of your core, folds glistening with your arousal. “Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen,” he breathes in awe, and before you can reply, his mouth is on you, upper lip resting just above your clit as his tongue strokes along your folds indulgently.
“Oh, my God,” you whisper, stumbling back slightly to lean against the wall behind you. Haechan moves with you fluidly, massaging your clit with his tongue as his fingers clutch your thighs, kneading the flesh with greedy, rough movements.
Tongue moving downwards towards your entrance, he prods the tip of it against your hole, chuckling when you jolt and squirm under his actions. “Don’t be shy, baby, I just want to taste.”
You nod even though he can’t see you, and he must be able to tell, because his tongue pushes forward, slowly breaching your entrance. You suck in a loud breath as his tongue delves further into you, occasionally coming out to slurp up the arousal dripping from your hole. 
“Tastes so good, baby,” he moans, his nose rubbing against your clit as he slowly starts to move his tongue in and out inside of you. The feeling is strange but amazing, a slightly ticklish element to the pleasure you’re receiving as he tongue-fucks you. 
Slurping loudly and moaning even louder, Haechan loses himself in your core, alternating between tongue-fucking you and licking at your folds and clit, leaving sloppy wet kisses that make your mind spin.
“Yeah, you like that?” he grunts, sucking at your clit hard before slipping his tongue out to stroke the sensitive underside of the sensitive bud. “You like when I kiss your pretty pussy? Hm? Do you like it when I make out with your sweet little pussy?”
“Yes,” you whimper, fingers clutching at his head over your skirt. When you get a good grip on him, you start to pull him closer, wanting more of his touch.
“Always so good—so shy and innocent.” Haechan murmurs, words slightly muffled from his oral ministrations on your pussy. “Now look at you; look how bad you’re being.”
“Haechan, please,” you breathe, and he turns his head to suck at your inner thighs, no doubt leaving a mark or two in his wake.
“Wanna see just how bad I can make you be.” he coos before surging forward to lap at your core eagerly, losing himself once more in the taste of you. “Fucking delicious, baby, you taste so good for me.”
He sucks and licks and kisses—even nibbles a bit—until your legs are shaking and your grip on his hair is iron-clad. You briefly consider the extremely compromising position someone might find you in if one of your friends walked down the hall and are surprised to find that not only do you not care, but there’s even a smidge of excitement when you think about getting caught like this, with Haechan’s head under your skirt and your breasts exposed.
“Haechan, I’m—I think I’m gonna—” you pant out, and he nods fervently, tongue slipping out of your entrance to flick your clit back and forth rapidly, a sharp whine slipping from you.
“Cum for me, baby—cum all on my tongue.” he urges, pulling you closer as he feverishly laps at your clit and entrance, shaking his head from side to side rapidly to run his tongue along your core back and forth. “That’s it, pretty girl, just let go.” he purrs, coaxing your climax out of you, and you do just that, letting the coil wound tight in your abdomen snap and letting the pleasure flood through your body.
“Haechan—” you whimper, and he hums soothingly as his tongue massages your clit once more, thoroughly milking your orgasm for all its worth. When the trembling of your legs has calmed down slightly and you’ve started to breathe normally once more, he pops his head out from under your skirt and winks up at you, chin and lips covered in your arousal.
“You’re addicting, baby; could eat your pussy for hours.” he says as he rises to his feet. A look downwards grants you the sight of his erection, fully hard once more, and you swallow thickly before looking up at him only to see that he’s already watching you with a small grin on his face. “Think you can handle one more?”
You’re nodding before you even realize it, and Haechan beams at you, drawing closer and closer until you’re flat against the wall. 
Nudging your legs apart, he settles between them and aligns his tip with your entrance, looking up from where your bodies meet to your face.
“Ready, baby?” he asks, and you nod carefully, eyes drifting back down from his face to where the thick head of his length presses against your core. “Good girl,” he breathes before pushing into you slowly, covering your mouth with his palm as you gasp out loudly. “Baby, they’ll catch us if you keep making noise like that.”
“S-Sorry,” you stammer, but it’s a muffled apology given that Haechan’s hand is still firmly clasped over your mouth. “So full,” you whisper in awe, and he chuckles lowly in your ear, lips pressing to the spot just behind your lobe. 
“Feel so tight around me, baby,” he grunts, his labored breathing in your ear telling you that he’s just as affected as you are. “So fucking good—”
“Haechan, move,” you whisper urgently as he bottoms out in you, and he obliges, pulling out to the tip and pushing into you again. A loud whoosh of air escapes your lungs, and he sucks your earlobe into his mouth, making you let out a loud whimper that would have been much louder had Haechan’s hand not muffled it.
“I’m starting to think you want to get caught.” Haechan murmurs with a smile on his lips as he kisses along your jaw and moves his hand to kiss you. 
“Mm—! No, I don’t—” you insist through your cries of pleasure, and he shakes his head with a taunting grin.
“Yes, you do,” he teases. “You want all our friends to come in this hallway and see me fucking you like the perfect little fuckdoll I always knew you could be.”
“Hae–chan—” you stutter, tiny noises leaving you with every powerful thrust of his hips. He’s so good, so big and thick, and he’s filling you up just right and hitting all the right places, and it becomes too much very quickly, an overwhelming amount of pleasure rushing through your body as he fucks into you. If it couldn’t get worse for you, he reaches between you two and his fingers find your clit, rubbing it in quick circles just like you showed him earlier. “Fuck—stop—too much—”
“Doesn’t that feel good, baby?” he coos, shifting himself to angle his hips into you just right so that every snap of his hips sends his tip fucking directly into your g-spot. 
You feel warmth behind your eyes, the telltale pricking at the corners that you know all too well, and the first tear drops before you can wipe it away, another tear following after that as the pleasure all but consumes you.
“Aw, baby, don’t cry, it feels good,” he consoles you, reaching up with his free hand to wipe your tears away. 
“So good—too good—” you babble, and he laughs at that, brows furrowing at the end as you clench around him.
“It can’t be too good, baby—you’re not making sense anymore.” he says with a playful lilt, and you whimper, more tears falling as you sniffle pathetically. “Fuck, you’re so pretty when you cry.”
“Wanna cum—Haechan, please let me cum—” you beg, and his movements stutter, Haechan looking at you in surprise.
“Yeah? Baby wants to cum?” he grunts, eyes squeezing shut for a moment as your walls flex around him again. “Fuck, I love when you do that—feels so good—cum for me, baby.” 
Not needing to be told twice, you promptly fall apart around him with a messy string of swears and “please” and utterances of Haechan’s name as your nails dig into his forearm, making him wince slightly. You’re sure you look a mess, eyes wet and glossy as tears stream down your cheeks, but Haechan’s drinking in your appearance like it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.
“Baby—I’m close—fuck—” Haechan grunts. “Gonna cum—where do you want it?”
“Want it inside of me, please—” you croak weakly, and he lets out a sound that’s a mix between a smug chuckle and a moan.
“Can’t believe you were skittish as a mouse just the other day, and now you’re begging for my cum. Want me to fill you up?” he pants, hips driving into yours with reckless abandon. 
“Please—” you whimper, and he swears under his breath.
“Fuck—take it all, baby,” he urges, hips pressing into yours as he buries himself in you and empties his load. “It’s all for you,” he says breathlessly as his length twitches inside of you.
He stays inside of you for a moment, both of you attempting to catch your breath, before he slowly pulls out, tucking himself back into his pants and helping you fix your skirt back into place. To your confusion, he hooks his fingers in your underwear, pulling the thin, arousal-soaked fabric down and off your legs. 
“Um…” you start, and Haechan looks over at you, brows raised expectantly. “Those are mine,” you state, pointing at the fabric in his fist.
“And now,” he hums, bringing them to his face and inhaling deeply, eyes sliding shut in bliss just in time to miss your scandalized expression. “They’re mine. C’mon; you should use the bathroom.”
He loops his fingers around yours, other hand stuffing your underwear in his back pocket as he leads you to the bathroom.
When the door closes behind you, you sit down on the toilet with slightly shaky legs, taking a moment to think about everything that just occurred. 
You would have never in a million years thought that you’d have sex with Haechan, let alone in the hallway—let alone, with your friends in the very next room. However, as you think over the events that just transpired, your body is filled with a warm thrum of satisfaction, and you can’t seem to find an ounce of regret. 
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“Girl, where the hell were you?!” Karina exclaims, fussing over you as soon as you reappear in the living room. “We’ve been texting and calling for ages!”
“Oh,” you mumble, pulling your phone from the little pocket in your skirt. “It’s been on Do Not Disturb,” you explain sheepishly, and Karina rolls her eyes hard.
“Don’t do that again. You had us worried sick. What were you even doing for so long?”
“Um… well, Haechan and I,” you start, casting a side glance to the couch where Haechan sits and hesitating slightly when you see that he’s watching you intently, not an ounce of shame in his expression. “We hooked up.” you say finally, straightening your back slightly and standing up taller.
Yeri’s jaw drops. “About damn time.” she remarks, and you narrow your eyes at her.
“Hush, you.” you huff, looking over at where Haechan sits once more. He locks eyes with you and grins, patting the empty spot next to him and wiggling his eyebrows playfully, and you smile, looking away from him to address your bewildered friends. “I’ll explain everything later—”
“Yeah, yeah, just go, girl.” Karina chuckles. “He’s waiting,” she sing-songs, and you elbow her slightly before shooting them a bright smile and a small wave and making your way to sit next to Haechan. 
When you sit down, Haechan drapes his arm around you on the back of the couch, and you can feel the heat creeping to your cheeks.
“So,” he says carefully, taking a hit of his pen and exhaling slowly before he continues, “I know this is a little backwards of me, but… do you wanna go out sometime? Like, on a date?”
“I’d like that,” you reply with a bashful smile, and he grins, relieved.
“Great. Now in the meantime,” he says, looking pointedly towards the hallway before looking back at you expectantly, “I have a nice ass TV, snacks, and a strong ass edible with your name on it in my room. You down?”
You don’t even hesitate. “I’m down.” you agree, smile widening, and he nods, satisfied. He stands from the couch and offers you his hand, which you take as he pulls you to your feet.
As you trail after him towards his room, fingers still locked with his, you can’t help but notice the familiar peek of fabric sticking out of his back pocket, and your eyes widen in alarm.
“Haechan!” you whisper loudly, and he looks back at you with raised brows. “My, um, underwear is sticking out of your pocket.”
“So?” he answers simply, and you pause, brain buffering for a moment.
“So?”
“Yeah. No one knows it’s your underwear but you and me,” he points out as you reach his bedroom door. He swings it open and gestures for you to enter first, head dipping down to your ear as you pass by. “So it’s our little secret.”
“Oh,” you mumble, thinking it over. “Okay.”
“That’s what I like to hear,” he says encouragingly, guiding you to his bed and gesturing for you to sit down. “Now, what do you want to watch?”
“Uh, we can watch Family Guy,” you suggest, and he looks at you, pleasant surprise written on his handsome features, before he nods and picks up the TV remote.
“Good choice,” he praises, sitting down beside you against the headboard of his bed. “Perfect show to play in the background while we make out.”
“Oh—” you stammer, blinking in surprise, and he snorts, eyes fond as he scans your bashful demeanor.
“I’m kidding.” he assures you, and you can’t help but frown slightly. Unfortunately for you, this doesn’t go unnoticed by Haechan, and he chuckles. “You wanted to make out, didn’t you?”
“A little bit,” you mumble, and he grins, leaning in closer to you.
“That can be arranged.” he murmurs, still smiling as his lips meet yours.
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plasticsandwich · 1 year ago
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its almost been 1 year since i started drawing again........
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drdemonprince · 2 months ago
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The conversations about accountability & apologies that we've been having in social justice circles these last few years have basically trained everybody to fawn.
We've been telling people that if they are accused of any wrongdoing or of hurting anybody's feelings, it is their obligation to apologize immediately, and never to hedge, disagree, or to explain their rationale what they've done.
In their apology, we expect them to articulate every single thing that they have done that was damaging in the strongest language possible and to declare outright that they have harmed someone, often multiple groups of people, even if they are not sure of the impact (or could not even possibly be sure).
If a person's apology is anything but immediate and entirely self-excoriating, we accuse the person of downplaying the damage they have done, failing to be accountable, and manipulating others.
In this way, we've made it impossible for a person to ever take their own side lest that be taken itself as a form of wrongdoing. We have trained our fellow social-justice-minded people to believe that if they do anything but worsen the case against themselves, they are being irresponsible.
I say we, in all of this, because I have partaken in all of this rhetoric, made these kinds of criticism, given accused people this type of advice.
And I have followed it myself, often to a damaging effect.
I have taken responsibility for problems in which I truly did not believe I played a part, I've overstated the damage that I've done so as not to risk understating it, I've ascribed malice to my intentions when I knew it wasn't there, I've agreed with people's most negative, bad-faith narratives about conflicts involving me that they were not even present for, offered up information about myself that was not a third party's business in the name of transparency, apologized for things I haven't done -- and in doing all of this, I have denied my loved ones the opportunity to really hear me about what I was going through and my motivations when I was in conflict with them, things that any true friend or close associate would obviously want to hear about if they cared about me.
This aim of giving the perfect apology and taking perfect accountability has been nothing but an isolating force in my life, because it has barred me from openly entering into necessary conflict with people when our needs were incompatible or they had hurt me just as much as I'd hurt them. The fear of being a manipulative, unaccountable DARVO-er has led me to roll onto my back and expose my belly, falling over myself with panicked apologies and the most unflattering information possible cast in the least explicable light, almost outright begging for others to become angrier at me and believing that it was only way I could ever possibly be accepted back.
We've drilled into people that the way to be good and responsible is to allow people to view us as negatively as possible, to even arm others with information that will confirm that point of view, and to never insert our own perspective or needs on the matter at all.
And yeah, there are a lot of shitty people out there who dodge accountability easily because their power ensconces them from any consequences. but the primary problem with that was never that they wrote a shitty notesapp apology that used the unforgivable phrase "I am sorry if you felt XYZ." The real problem was that there was no community that held enough influence to hold them to account, and for their victims there weren't ever adequate supports or protections.
instead of addressing any of that in a remotely systematic way, we have taken to picking apart every accused person's every word and deed for evidence of inner moral failure and created a culture in which we think we can determine a person's safety by how artfully they put words together when they are under threat. and what do you know, plenty of bad faith actors and conflict avoidant cowards and people who just dont understand what they are even being accused of can do that just fine.
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afsosville · 3 months ago
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Yknow what niche sv fanfics I fucking love? All the peak lords as disciples who are ride or die for each other. And I mean all of them thank you very much.
If anyone has recs, then PLEASE
Anyways, here's one dysfunctional and stupid family for you <3
Shen Yuan is the beast taming head disciple, and Mu Qingfang is just a deadass tired med student leave him alone.
And Wei Qingweiiiiiiii I want to make a whole character ref sheet for this dude and he doesn't have any business being a favourite of mine. Bro is the only peak lord that doesn't have a character description in the glossary. Btw if anyone knows what the Wei in Qingwei is pls tell meeee
Just pretend Shen Jiu got rescued early bc of Shen Yuan/Shang Qinghua's influence or smt idk. Pls don't don't follow your nightmares A-Jiu! You only got into this mess coz you did buddy TUT
Rip Yue Qingyuan this is my first time attempting to draw him and it just wasn't working out so I turned him around.
Recs bc I don't gatekeep>>
Shen shixiong by Ourliazo
Dark clouds by Invidia_envy
Close to you by Aledono
For a better day by Midnight_illusi0n
Predator and prey by Cheesie13
Black crow by Zypll
If I knew it all then (would you do it again) by Zypll
From the silence of mountains by Invidia_envy
Concentrated anger in fun-sized frame by Ectocosme
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pomefioredove · 4 months ago
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Imagine the overbloat gang as fathers or like proud/panicking that their s/o is having a child and they don't know what to do
Imagine the gang trying to give their kids a goid life and getting baby fever like who wouldn't because the kid is literally a mixed of him and you and they gush about how much they love their s/o and children like ???????
Overbload gang as fathers and i will start violently sob
I do have a weakness for familial headcanons :) future au time??
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ as fathers
type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, leona, azul, jamil, vil, idia, malleus additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral (no mentions of the child's origins), reader is not specified to be yuu, obviously takes place in the future
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I think Riddle is one of the most reluctant to have children
for years he was strictly against them. his excuses were always that children are messy, unruly, his career, his relationship with you... but he was mostly just afraid of turning into his mother
as he gets older and forms his own identity, though, he realizes that it takes a lot of intentional effort to fuck up a child like his mom did, and he changes his mind
I can see him with... maybe two kids
he would never want an only child. after all, the bonds he made with his peers are what kept him going
he is a pretty good parent overall. maybe a little to focused on bedtimes and table manners, but the kids don't seem to mind
Trey and Che'nya babysit often (and it's always disastrous)
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
talking Leona into the idea of fatherhood is like diffusing a bomb with a blindfold on. the guy won't even JOKE about it
if you do end up with a kid, it's unplanned, whether that be pregnancy or baby left on the doorstep
but he makes a surprisingly(?) good father. defo a girl dad, he would spoil a daughter rotten. lets her beat the daylights out of Neji because that's his little princess :)
parenting is really not as scary as he thought it was going to be
he has "I'm just resting my eyes" *falls asleep for 8 hours on the reclining chair in the living room* dad energy
the hardest part?
pretending to like vegetables in front of the kid to set a good example
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Azul would actually be an awesome dad idc. IDC!
he has a good relationship with his mom and stepdad (who definitely babysit all the time; they insist on it), so he has good role models
he's not even worried about how it'll affect his career! Azul has a "do it all" personality: businessman, entrepreneur, father, aspiring millionaire...
and he is so overprotective
he'd cover that kid in bubble wrap if you'd let him
but he's really more concerned about their feelings. sending them to school is much harder than closing a business deal
he's a little sensitive, but he knows he'll have to trust them eventually
P.S. the tweels are NOT allowed to babysit. bad influences
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Jamil. ohhh Jamil :(
kids were never on the table for him, even after he met you and fell in love, he just... couldn't imagine it
regardless of whether or not he and his family are in a better place. (for the sake of this story, let's pretend they are. I want him to be happy) he just has so much generational trauma that he knows the child will end up with some, anyway
when, if, he's ready, it will still be a tough process. but worth it
he's such a supportive dad. bragging about his child at any chance, definitely the kind of dad to show everyone the baby pictures without being asked
it gets embarrassing for them as they grow, but he doesn't care
he thinks they're the greatest thing ever, and people should know that!
he is so proud
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Vil had always wanted to play a father on screen, but once he hits that age, he starts thinking about real life, too
he's gotten where he wants to be, after all: he's still young, he's in love, and his career, as successful as it is, is starting to wind down. so, why not?
he is the most supportive partner you could ask for. despite his schedule, he's involved in everything (yes, even the messy stuff)
he's got a customized baby bjorn and everything
I can see him with... one. just one is enough for him. he also has girl dad energy. he's already looking forward to playing princesses and letting her do his makeup (terribly, of course)
he knows his child will grow to have their own wants and thoughts and personality, and he's supportive. besides, if he has another Epel on his hands, he'll know how to handle them
just... gentler, this time
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
for you, anon, I will enterain the idea that Idia may someday reproduce. but there's still a 50% chance that kid is a robot
joking (kind of)
I don't think he'd even really want kids. considering his own unhappy childhood and the whole curse of his bloodline thing. but, like the others, he can be convinced!
I think he'd make a pretty good father, tbh. neurotic, sure, but he's not too clingy, nor too distant
whatever kids he has will be smart, and he trusts them. he likes teaching them nerdy stuff, too (finally, someone he can infodump to!!!)
he probably ends up with more than he'd think. 2 or 3
as long as you never bring up how cringe he was in college, he's rather mature and prepared for anything
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
out of the whole lineup, Malleus is the the only one to have thought your future children while at NRC. daydreamed, really
I know, not surprising. look at the guy. he's practically kicking his legs back and forth while coming up with baby names in game
it was just a fantasy at first, then you became closer, graduated, got older, and...
Lilia began teasing him about getting grandkids, and Malleus took him quite seriously
he knows he's still young (though, at his age, Lilia was already general), but he doesn't want to wait forever. you both have many long talks on the matter
and end up with... as many children as you can handle, basically
Malleus is somewhat of an awkward father (having been raised by Lilia will do that to you)
but he cares. and he tries! very hard. plus, there's always Lilia, Silver, and Sebek around to lend a hand
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navybrat817 · 2 months ago
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(Im)Patiently Waiting
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Pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Single Mom!Reader
Summary: Bucky is trying to patiently wait for your call.
Word Count: Over 1.4k
Warnings: Fluff, slight feels, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning and already whipped, okay?)
A/N: Continuing with Moving in Slow Motion and Heart and Home, the phone call! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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Bucky looked down at the phone in his hand. He was never the kind of guy to constantly check his device, but he hadn’t stopped looking at it since he met you. Hell, he checked it while he was still at the museum, hoping for a text or something so he’d have your number, too. He didn’t think it was possible to become whipped so fast, but life still surprised him.
He sighed when the screen went dark. Why hadn’t you called yet? Maybe he came on too strong? He didn’t think he had. Were you just busy? Probably. You had an adorable daughter who needed you love and attention and-
“Bucky!”
His head snapped up to find Steve, his best friend and second-in-command, staring at him. He didn’t look impressed and pursued his lips more when Bucky raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t hear a damn word I said, did you?”
“No,” he replied, not bothering to lie. “Was I supposed to be listening, punk?”
“Yeah, you were, jerk.” Steve ran a hand through his golden hair, plopping down in his chair. “Still hasn’t called yet?”
“Not yet,” he said, setting the phone on the desk in front of him.
“I’m sorry.”
Bucky sighed again, staring off at the books that lined one of the walls of his office. He didn’t divulge much of his personal life to others. It was safer that way, to both protect himself and the people he cared about. But meeting you and your daughter, he told Steve and their small circle all about it. How Sweet Pea bumped into him and his heart melted. How seeing you set his heart on fire.
They were stunned to say the least and were naturally curious about you since you caught his attention. Each of them offered in some way to do their research on you and make sure there was nothing suspicious or dangerous about you, but he refused. His gut instinct told him all he needed to know.
“You know,” Steve began, pulling his attention back. “We can get you her number if-”
He cut him off with a glare. “I already said no,” he growled, taking a breath. He wasn’t going to snap at his best friend. “I’m doing this the right way.”
Bucky was powerful, extremely powerful, but he wouldn’t use his influence over you. It wouldn’t be right. His hands were dirty as it was, and this could be his chance to have something pure.
With his hands up in surrender, Steve nodded. “Sorry. I just… I haven’t seen you like this before and you haven’t even gone on a date with her yet,” he smiled a little. “She must be something special.”
Bucky smiled a little, too. “She is,” he whispered. Things that didn’t make sense before did after he looked in your eyes.
“Yelena will be the judge of that,” the blonde winked.
“Yelena will take one look at Sweet Pea and declare that she’s her aunt,” Bucky teased, both of them chuckling.
If Bucky’s group taught him anything, it was that blood wasn’t always thicker than water. Friends were the family he got to choose. He would defend and protect them with his life. He imagined you were like that with your daughter, perhaps even more.
Who defended and protected you?
A ring echoed in the office and Bucky stared at the device as it lit up. He held his breath when a phone number popped up with no name. His gaze flickered to Steve as it kept ringing. Was it you?
Steve stared back at him like he had grown two heads. “What the hell are you waiting for? Answer it!”
Clearing his throat, he waved for his friend to go, who did so quickly. If it was you, he didn’t want anyone eavesdropping. If it wasn’t you, he didn’t want any witnesses when his face fell.
Releasing his breath, he finally quietly answered, “This is Bucky.”
“Hi, Bucky,” you spoke on the other end, stating your name as well. He slumped in his chair at the sound of your voice, his heart skipping a beat. It was really you. “I don’t know if you remember me, but we met at the science museum.”
“Of course, I remember you. You and Sweet Pea.” He couldn’t forget either of you if he tried and he didn’t want to. Did you think of him as much as he thought of you? “How are you two doing? Did she win the contest?”
“We’re doing just fine. She keeps talking about the museum and wants to go back, but no word if she won the contest or not.” He could hear the smile in your voice and it put a smile on his face, too. “How are you?”
“I’m doing just fine,” he replied, getting up and heading to the sofa so he could relax a bit more. He was better than fine since he was talking to you.
“Sorry it took me a bit to call you.”
Should he admit that he kept checking his phone in anticipation? “No, no. You don’t need to apologize,” he said. You didn’t owe him an explanation either. Whether you were busy with Sweet Pea or you didn’t want to call right away, that was your business. “I’m just glad you called.”
“I am, too.” There was silence on the other end. “So, I, um…” Your nervous giggle was beautifully endearing. “God, I’m really out of practice with this.”
“Practice with what exactly?” he smiled, laying back and looking at the ceiling. He wondered if you were sitting on a sofa, too. Or maybe you were in bed, comfortable, unwinding.
“Talking, I guess. At least with someone outside of work or parenting.” There was that giggle again. He wanted that sound on a loop. “I’m not even sure where to start.”
“Why don’t you start with what you did today?” he suggested.
“That might bore you.”
“I don’t think anything you could say could possibly bore me,” he sincerely said. If you decided to pick up a phone book and read it to him, he’d listen. But he was genuinely interested in your day. The little things would help him get to know you better and build more of that connection, both with who you were as a mother and as a person.
“Okay, but only if you tell me about your day, too,” you said.
“Now my day might bore you,” he chuckled. He wouldn’t start anything with you built on a lie about what he did, but he had to be careful with the truth.
“Mmm. I don’t know. You don’t strike me as a boring kind of guy.”
“Oh, I’m not boring,” he smirked. He would love to show you just how thrilling he could be some time. “But my day might be.”
“Try me,” you smiled.
“Can I ask you something before we talk about our ‘boring’ days?”
“Yeah, anything,” you answered.
Butterflies filled his stomach. Jesus, he was nervous. When was the last time anything made him feel nervous? “Would you like to get a drink with me?”
The pause on your end didn’t soothe his nerves. “A drink?” you repeated, your voice smaller than before. He detected uncertainty, like when he offered you his number.
“Yeah. Coffee at a cafe or wine at a nice restaurant, whatever you want,” he replied, exhaling slowly. He didn’t want to mess up your schedule or over complicate anything for you. “What do you say?”
Bucky stared down the barrel of a gun more than once in his life. He experienced torture. Had come close to death. Waiting for your answer was a different kind of torment. It would either be a killing blow or his saving grace.
“I’d love to get a coffee with you,” you stated, allowing him to properly breathe again. He wanted to pump his fist in the air. “Tomorrow, maybe? Unless that’s too soon. Is it too soon?”
“No, no, that’s great,” he smiled. He couldn’t stop smiling. Even if wasn’t free tomorrow, he’d clear his schedule. “Give me the time and place and I’ll be there.”
“Great.” The uncertainty was long gone. “There’s a cafe not too far from me. I can text you the place and time.”
“I’ll be waiting,” he promised, and he wouldn’t be late. “Now… tell me about your day.”
He was going to soak up every single word until he saw you in the morning.
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You called! He's whipped! You have a date! I still need to name this AU. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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hairmetal666 · 5 months ago
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Steve has done interviews before. Like, a lot of interviews. YouTube, podcasts, print, TV stuff. Not as a brag, or anything, just. He's been an influencer for a long time, for better or worse, and it's part of the deal.
Usually, he's comfortable in front of the camera. Usually, he's poised and well-spoken. But today, this time, sweat pools under his arms and beads along his hairline, the lights beating down on him in a harsh glare.
"Steve Harrington," Murray Bauman crosses his legs, smiles big for the cameras. "It's been a while."
He smiles too, tries to seem like he's not about to have a panic attack. "I've been a little busy."
Murray laughs and it's then that Steve understands how screwed he really is. Murray's show, it's all glitz and glamour on the surface; mixed drinks and hijinks until the celebrity guests lose their inhibitions, admitting things they probably wanted to keep secret.
It's just that, before, Steve didn't have any salacious rumors to worry about, and now--
"You've had a rough year, Steve, yeah?"
"Not my best, for sure." He leans back, tries to seem calm, unbothered.
"I was sorry to hear about your divorce. I think that announcement really took a lot of people by surprise."
His hands clench, but he manages not to shift or bounce his leg. "Thanks for, uh. Yeah. We were also sorry it didn't work out."
Murray nods, face full of sympathy. "You and Nancy, you'd been together since high school? That's almost--what? 15 years?"
"It's--" he clears his throat. "About that long." Steve takes a sip of the drink next to him, an apple martini that's both too sweet and too strong.
"Am I right to assume that you didn't see it coming?"
And isn't that a question? Sure, now in hindsight, he can see the fractures that lead to the end, but six months ago did he--it's all so--what if all along--
"All marriages have rough patches," is what he says. "We just couldn't come out of ours as a couple."
"Do you know what I've found really remarkable about this phase of your life? The content and tone of your videos in the midst of the maelstrom of rumors and gossip didn't change at all. 'Your kids' as you call them, are still as bright and vibrant as ever. You're laughing, dancing, cooking, having a great time."
"I needed that--that normalcy you know? And the kids, they're such an important part of my life, having them around helped."
"Including Nancy's brother, Mike?"
Steve laughs and it's not fake. "Totally including Mike. My relationship with Nancy has nothing to do with my relationship with him."
"He's kind of an antagonist--would you say?--in your videos, though."
"We have conflict sometimes, but it's never serious. We know how to play it up for laughs."
"So, nothing's changed between you?"
"Not at all."
"The cheating rumors." Murray's smile is soft, but all the air still leaves the room.
"What about them?" It's more combative than he means, but--
"Did Nancy cheat on you with Jonathan Byers?"
He swallows and it hurts. She did cheat, is the thing. It's not public information, still only speculation, but--
"You can't believe everything you read, Murray."
"So, she didn't cheat?" There's a glow to Murray's eyes that tells Steve he already knows the answer.
"Like, I said before, marriages are hard. We spent a lot of time apart because of our jobs. It took a toll."
"And she was traveling with Jonathan, yes? He's been her photographer for the past decade, from what I understand."
"They were co-workers, but we're all close. And those rumors didn't help our relationship, for sure. It's--not easy to hear that a bunch of people think your wife and close friend may be having an affair, that people 'ship' them. Even when it's not true, it creates--"
"Tension? Distrust?"
"Both, probably." He takes another drink as he nods. "After a while you do start to wonder if there's truth to it, and you're too ignorant or too--too trusting to see it."
"And it eroded the relationship."
"It certainly didn't help." He takes another drink.
"And how about your relationship with Jonathan's brother, Will. Has that been impacted?"
"Of course not. Never. Whatever happens between Nancy, Jonathan, and I, it has nothing to do with the kids. They know that.
"You talked about it."
"Yes. Extensively."
"I know there's often speculation on the relationship you have with them; if you're really close or it's all for the cameras."
"Murray." He leans forward. "We've talked about this before. I met Dustin through Mike, and the whole group followed. I've known them all since they were 8 years old. They're--I mean, not to be cliche, but they're my family." He sips the last bit of martini.
"And where does Eddie Munson fit into that family?"
The question shouldn't be a surprise, but he almost does a spit take, has to fight to keep it together.
"Eddie?"
"Yes." Murray's smile is chilling. "Your close friend Eddie Munson. Musician. Plays Dungeons and Dragons on YouTube. You made out with him in a music video. Ringing any bells?"
"I'm familiar with Eddie," his grin is rigid. "I don't know what that has to do with my marriage ending."
"Well, the rumors weren't all about Nancy, were they?"
"Eddie and I have--we became mutuals online years and years ago. I used one of his songs in a video and the kids are obsessed with his dnd stuff, so. We've become close."
"Friends?"
"Isn't that implied?"
"After that music video, I don't think so."
Steve rolls his eyes, lets the irritation show for the first time. "He asked me to be in his video. There's nothing scandalous about it."
"What's your relationship with Eddie right now?"
"Like I said, friends."
"Do you want it to be more than that?"
"Eddie's really important to me."
"Is that all?"
"Not really sure what you want me to say here, Murray."
"You were married to a woman for years, but now there are questions about your sexuality."
He grits his teeth. "My sexuality isn't anyone's business aside my own. People can say shit on Twitter all they want, that doesn't mean they know me. But--the end of my marriage--it definitely gave me the space for self-discovery, I guess? In a way I hadn't had before."
"And is Eddie a part of that self-discovery?"
"Yeah, as one of my closest friends, he is."
"Do you have feelings for him?"
"That's--that's not--I'm going through a divorce. My focus isn't on starting another relationship right now."
"You, famously, tattooed your initials on the inside of his thigh during an Instagram live. That's pretty intimate."
"We were just having a little fun."
"Huh. That seems like more than 'a little fun' to me. So, how's Eddie doing with the increased attention?"
It takes Steve a second to track the change of subject, mind still stuck on the tattoo, on how the ink had looked on Eddie's pale skin.
"It's hard." Steve eventually answers. "Of course he enjoys bringing his music and dnd to a wider audience, but the focus on his personal life is--it's a lot."
"Well, he should have thought about before letting you tattoo him for your 850,000 followers. Does he want a relationship with you?"
His throat is dry, burning, he wishes he had more martini. He wishes he'd never taken a sip. "You'd have to ask him. I'm just taking it day by day, you know? That's what I need right now."
"We're getting to the end of our time, but you know I have to ask. Your best friend, Robin Buckley, she very famously unfollowed both Nancy and Jonathan on all social media when news broke about your divorce. Can you tell us why she unfollowed them?"
"I have no control over Robin's accounts. I didn't even know she followed Jonathan ever, and she and Nancy have a relationship outside of me, you know? I can't say what happened between them."
"She's been in your videos with Eddie. She like him?"
"Very much. It's kind of annoying actually. They keep ganging up on me."
"Much to everyone's delight, I'm sure. So, what can we expect from the newly single Steve Harrington?"
"There are a couple things in the works, but only time will tell."
---
He walks through his front door an hour later, and Eddie's sitting on the couch, playing a soft melody on an acoustic guitar. He stops when he sees Steve, setting the guitar aside, and standing.
"How'd it go, baby?" He asks. His soft smile is so beautiful, Steve gets a lump in his throat.
"As expected." He crosses the space between them, lets Eddie pull him close.
"He ask about us?" Eddie's breath tickles his ear.
"Of course."
"And you--"
"I want--it should be just for us. We should be able to announce when we're ready. Not when Murray-fucking-Bauman asks."
Eddie kisses him, then, sweet and slow, making him lose his breath.
"Whenever you're ready, I'll be right by your side."
"You sure? All my mess--"
"Is mine too. Afraid you're stuck with me for the long haul, Steve Harrington."
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pixiesndberries · 1 year ago
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𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐅𝐔𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃, 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍 —
a small series of Jujutsu Kaisen men as your husband !
☆ OUR STARS : Nanami Kento, Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Choso Kamo, Aoi Todo, Toji Fushiguro, and more !
━ REQUESTED BY : none
━⁠ WARNINGS : none
ෆ PIXIE'S NOTE ! : heya pookies I know it's been a while 🙏🏻 but here I am creating another series to pay off the days I wasn't posting so much —⁠ forgive me my pookies 🏃🏻‍♀️💨 we have holiday break so I'm going to grind a lot 😝
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NANAMI KENTO, as your husband !
• Nanami is the perfect standard for male wife, argue with the wall —⁠ this man knows how to cook, clean his home, does his own laundry, and mostly basic life skills that most men barely know which is pretty much a big turn on.
Nanami who always supports your decision as long as it doesn't have any bad effects in your life, he respects you a lot to whatever you do in your life —⁠ he thinks that just because you are married it doesn't mean he have full possession on you, though sometimes when you asked for his opinions about your decisions in such situations he isn't shy of what he thinks.
Nanami the type of husband who will always do small and big things for you even though you can do it yourself —⁠ carrying groceries for you, helping you in the kitchen, sending you to your work, helps you clean the house, and goes to the mall with you.
; he surprisingly took the shopping bags form your hands gently "your hands will get numb, this is pretty heavy." he says with his usual tone as he looks at you softly, you can't help but to smile in his small little gestures and gosh it's making her heart melt.
"thank you, kento." you say as you gave him a big smile and pressed a kiss on his cheeks making him grin.
Nanami who is being a worrywart when you don't reply quickly when you're out with your friends late night —⁠
; kento | sent a message.
10:24 pm
kento : just got home love ❤️
kento : what time are you going home?
11:04 pm
kento : love, tell me when you're going home I'll pick you up ❤️
kento : is everything going alright?
kento : kind of worried, hope you respond soon 😅
11:07 pm
kento : please reach out to me when you can so I can pick you up ☺️
kento : I'm worried 😢
you : love I'm fine sorry, we we're drinking just a tiny bit 😭
you : you can pick me up now 🏃🏻‍♀️💨
Nanami the type of husband to use cringe emojis but you appreciate it anyways, he barely use his phone or try to use emojis —⁠ headcanon : he learned using emojis from yuji or gojo 🙏🏻 you find it silly and cute anyways.
Nanami who's phone is always filled with your photos and some sceneries with you in it —⁠ he doesn't like taking photos of himself that much though, he loves taking photos of you and look through it when he's not busy or when he misses you and he's at work.
Nanami when he learned how to use Instagram and he can't stop posting you —⁠ Gojo probably tried influencing him to use social media once and he was like no??? not until one time you took a photo of him during one of your dates and you asked him, "hey can I post this?" and of course he said yes and after that you kept posting him at some times which led him to the idea of posting you as well since he thinks you deserve it too.
; nanami.kento1990
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tagged : @y/n.igcom | ❤️
itaaa.yuji and 13 others liked this post.
gojosatoru | he knows how to use Instagram 😦 ???
gojosatoru | WHO TAUGHT YOU ⁉️
itaaa.yuji | first post !!
nobaraaaa | parents 🙏🏻
Nanami who is nervous to talk about the future he wants with you — not totally nervous it's more like when you talked about kids you wanted soon with him he will always be like, "sure I also thought about that." with his usual tone but deep inside talking about it was his hyper fixation and he can't stop thinking about it.
Nanami who never in his life forget about giving you flowers in small or big occasions —⁠
; "happy mother's day." he says softly with a grin in his face as he hands you a bouquet of your favourite flowers, "kento, I'm not a mother yet." you laugh as you take the bouquet from him, admiring the flowers for a second. He never fails to make you feel happy, "maybe soon?" he chuckles then makes his way to give you a hug. "sure." you laughed and happily hugged him back tightly, exchanging I love you.
Nanami who never left by your side especially when you are not okay, he will leave his work for a day or even weeks if you really need him by your side —⁠ he will never get tired of comforting you; if you need a shoulder to cry on? He's there. He can stay all day in bed with you to make you feel better —⁠ take you out in a vacation if that's what you really need or probably do every house chores just to make you rest.
─ REBLOGS, LIKES, AND COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED FEEL FREE TO REQUEST!
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badbtssmut · 7 months ago
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A party for three
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As usual, you and your boyfriend Taehyung travel by van to the same festival the both of you have been going to since you first started dating. But when you run into his best friend at the festival, you suddenly end the night with your pussy filled to the brim.
Contains: Everyone is under the influence, drunk, threesome, dubcon cause nobody’s thinking clearly, yn gets called a slut, double penetration in pussy <- yn winces and says it’s too tight but Tae encourages her, yn cries out of pleasure, riding, missionary, doggystyle, boobplay, multi orgasm, just fucking with literally zero thoughts
Admin note: fuck me I wrote this all on the tumblr app and it didn’t fucking save and I had to do it AGAIN!! :)
It was a warm night in the middle of summer as you and your boyfriend, Taehyung, pulled up in the parking lot of a venue you knew all too well. The two of you had been coming to this exact music festival for a few years now, and tonight was just the same as any other.
Or so you thought.
You cheered as one of your favorite bands entered the stage and took the crowd by storm, their fans immediately beginning to crowd the stage and the surrounding area.
Taehyung, on the other hand, wasn't even watching the band. He was busy watching you, your smile lighting up your entire face as you swayed your hips to the music and sang along to the lyrics. When you felt his eyes on you, you glanced over at him, smiling at him before you stepped closer and gave him a peck on the lips.
"Are you enjoying the show?" You asked him, giggling.
He shrugged. "I am now," he said, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you against him.
You giggled at his words; not sure if it was because you were tipsy or because you were amused by his cheesiness, but nonetheless he made you giggle.
A tap on his shoulder caught him by surprise and he turned around in confusion before a grin made his way to his face.
“Hey!” Jimin greeted cheerfully, (he was Taehyung’s best friend), waving at the two of you.
“Hey! What are you doing here?” Taehyung asked, which earned a playful push from Jimin.
“Dude, the same as you two are doing here, obviously, except I don’t have a pretty girl on my arm.”
You smiled at his compliment and reached over to give him a hug, and he hugged you back.
Jimin tagged along with the three of you, and the band was still going strong and performing, so you all decided to continue partying together. The music was loud, the drinks were flowing, and you were definitely a bit more than tipsy at this point. Your head was spinning, your body felt light, and you couldn’t stop giggling as you leaned into Taehyung for support, who was also quite drunk.
The band played a song that was more on the slower side, so everyone was moving along to the music rather than jumping up and down like they had been earlier.
"Hey," Taehyung murmured in your ear, and you turned around to face him, "want to head back to the van and relax a bit?"
You nodded in response.
“Jimin? You coming with us or staying here?" You asked, turning to his best friend.
“Yeah, let’s go.”
And with that, the three of you walked out of the venue and to the parking lot, where you all stepped into the van; it was one of those fancy ones, the really big vans that had a bedroom, a bathroom, a kitchen— it was fucking expensive but Taehyung insisted that it would be cool for road trips and it definitely was.
You flopped down on the bed and closed your eyes, your head spinning, and a few seconds later you felt the bed sink a bit, and you opened your eyes to see that it was Jimin, and he was staring at you.
"Y/N, I have been curious for a while... can I ask you something?" He said, a mischievous grin on his face.
"Sure." You responded, curious as to what he wanted to know.
"Your boobs, they look really soft, can I touch them? I've always wanted to feel them."
You laughed, his bluntness amusing you. “Okay.”
He reached his hand forward, and you watched as he gently cupped your breasts through your bra. He squeezed them a few times, and then he looked up at you. "Can I touch you under your shirt?" Jimin asked, his eyes hopeful.
You were feeling bold (probably due to all the stuff you took), and also very turned on, so you nodded. "Go ahead."
With your permission, he pushed your shirt up and over your head, and you sat up and unhooked your bra, letting it fall off of your shoulders. And then before you knew it, you and Jimin were cuddled up, your back rested against the wall as he laid on top of you, sucking on your tits and groping your boobs.
You had one hand resting on his head and the other found it’s way between your legs, rubbing your pussy through your shorts, moaning at the sensation.
Before you knew it, Jimin’s cock was in his hands, and he was pushing your shorts to the side and grinding his erection against your clit before it slipped in and was sliding in and out of you.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him close as he pounded into you, the two of you breathing heavily.
"Fuck, Y/N, you're so wet, baby," he moaned, thrusting his cock in and out of your pussy, his hips snapping against your ass, "so good, fuck."
You were panting, throwing your head back as his cock slammed into you, over and over.
The door then creaked open, and you looked over to see that it was your boyfriend, standing in the doorway. However, he didn’t seem fazed by the fact his girlfriend was getting fucked by his best friend. Instead, he stepped forward and crawled onto the bed, next to you. He grabbed hold of your face and kissed you, his tongue slipping past your lips, and you could taste the alcohol on his breath. His fingers trailed to your clit, rubbing it with his thumb as he continued to kiss you.
Taehyung pulled away, taking in the sight of his best friend’s cock drilling into you.
“Good pussy?” Taehyung asked with a chuckle.
"Very good pussy," Jimin replied, moaning as he thrusted his cock in and out of you, "gonna beat it up so good, gonna fuck it all up," he groaned, his hand reaching down to grab onto your tit.
“Mmhmm, I know how much she likes her pussy getting beat up. Do you like having your pussy beat up, baby?" Taehyung cooed.
You could only whimper, your mouth hanging open and your eyes squeezed shut.
“She loves it, dude, look at her," said Jimin, smirking.
Taehyung watched in awe as you rode his best friend's cock, your walls fluttering around his thick length. Taehyung could no longer ignore his hardening cock, so he reached down and unzipped his jeans, his erection springing free.
You felt him press his cock against your cheek, and you opened your eyes to see him holding his errection, the head rubbing against your cheek.
"You want it, baby?" He asked, and you nodded eagerly, opening your mouth. He guided his cock towards your mouth, and you opened it wider to take it, allowing him to slide it between your lips.
As you sucked on his cock, he ran his fingers over your arms before he held onto your hand and watched as you bobbed your head up and down, slurping and sucking on his shaft, your mouth full of his cock.
“Jimin…” You whined, spreading your legs as far as they could, allowing his cock to slam into you even deeper, and it was driving you crazy.
"What's wrong, miss Tae’s girlfriend? Can't take anymore?" He teased, grinning as he watched your face contort in pleasure, Taehyung’s cock slipping out of your mouth. Jimin grabbed you by the hips, holding you in place as he adjusted himself, fucking you from a deeper angle. Taehyung wrapped your fingers around his shaft, and you started to rub him off, watching as Jimin drilled into you.
"Such a pretty little slut, taking me and Tae's cock, I bet your pussy's just dying to get fucked, isn't it, slut?" Jimin asked with gritted teeth.
You cried out in response, your eyes rolling back in your head, and soon you were cumming, your pussy squeezing and contracting around his cock.
Taehyung stroked himself faster, watching as you came, and Jimin pulled out, wanting to feel your mouth around his cock, while Taehyung took his place, lifting you off the bed and putting you on his lap, facing him.
You sunk yourself onto his cock, wrapping your arms around his neck as you started to ride him, and he thrusted his hips upward, meeting yours.
“Yeah babe, ride my cock just like that, bounce on my dick," Taehyung encouraged, groaning as he watched you bounce up and down on his shaft, his hands resting on your hips.
Jimin stood next to the bed, jerking himself off as he watched you get fucked, and he stepped closer to you and held his cock out, and you immediately took him into your mouth, moaning as you moved your head back and forth, taking him all the way in.
“Love it?” Taehyung cooed, his hands moving to your ass and squeezing your cheeks.
“Love it so much," you managed to say, the two of them thrusting their cocks in and out of you.
"Love your holes filled with my cock and my best friend's, don't you, baby?" Taehyung whispered as he caressed your face.
"Yes, Tae, love it, love cocks so much, please," you begged, your voice a whimper.
"Gonna fuck you until you're sore and can't walk," he said, smirking as he slapped your ass, "want two cocks in your pussy? Think you can handle that?”
“She wants two cocks?” Jimin pulled his errection out of your mouth, stroking himself as he stared at your pussy.
Taehyung lifted you off his dick, turning you around, your back against his chest and his dick pressed against your ass.
"Jimin's cock is nice and big too, so I think it'll be a tight fit. Think you can handle that, babe?"
“Please, want them,” You giggled, rolling your hips impatiently, “put cock in me, I want it."
Taehyung grabbed hold of his cock and pushed the tip into you, and then slowly lowered you down onto him, letting out a hiss as your sweet pussy engulfed him.
You leaned back into his chest, and he wrapped his arms around your waist, his hands resting on your stomach. He began to pump his cock in and out of you, his eyes falling closed.
"Mmhmm," he hummed, "love your pussy, so good, babe."
"I love it too," said Jimin, climbing onto the bed, his cock brushing against your thigh, still rock hard. “Where do I put it in? Don’t see space, too tight."
You were about to open your mouth to tell him where to put it, but before you could, Taehyung spoke first.
"Just push it in on top of mine," Taehyung told him, "don't worry, she'll make space."
Jimin did what he was told, and you felt him start to push in, at which you winced and whimpered.
"Shhh, you'll be okay," cooed your boyfriend, his hand going to your clit and rubbing it gently, "just relax and let it happen, baby. Don't worry, we're not gonna hurt you, promise.” He whispered against your ear, before leaving a trail of kisses down your neck.
“Too tight, too full…” You whimpered, squirming in his arms, but he held you in place, his grip tightening around your waist.
"Baby, I can feel Jimin’s cock, it’s almost in all the way, you feel it too? He's rubbing his cock against mine," said your boyfriend, chuckling softly.
"Yeah, yeah," Jimin breathed, finally pushing his cock all the way in, letting out a deep groan, "fuck, so tight, fuck."
The two of them started to move, and the sensation of having both their cocks inside of you was almost too much to bear.
"Please, don't stop, don't stop," you chanted, tears streaming down your cheeks as they pumped their cocks in and out of you, stretching your pussy even further, filling you up so perfectly.
They both began to speed up, and the room was filled with the sounds of their grunts and moans, along with the sound of your pussy squelching as they fucked it.
"Shit, she's milking my cock," said Jimin, his hands grabbing onto your thighs, pushing your legs back as he drilled into you. Taehyung never lost his rhythm, pounding upwards with a steady pace, his cock hitting all the right places— while Jimin pushed in, Taehyung pulled out, when Taehyung took a break, Jimin didn’t stop, and occasionally you’d be double drilled when they’d both push their cocks in at the same time, the sensations overwhelming and mind numbing.
You cried out as your pussy began to spasm, and soon you were cumming again, the two of them fucking you through it, their dicks continuing to pound into your pussy, not slowing down for a second.
“Oh, oh!” Your eyes rolled back, mouth wide open and drool leaking from the corner of your mouth. You didn’t know how you were taking two cocks at the same time, but you were, and it felt amazing.
After the double penetrating, you ended up in the arms of your boyfriend who fucked you missionary style, the two of you making out while he thrusted into you, his tongue down your neck and his hands exploring your body, squeezing your breasts as he enjoyed your pussy. Then after, Jimin took over and fucked you doggystyle, your legs spread and back arched as his cock rammed into you from behind, your ass jiggling each time his hips met yours.
You didn’t know how long the three of you managed to keep it up, but you fell asleep somewhere between the sex, and when you woke up the sun was shining through the curtains and you were wrapped in a blanket.
Taehyung was heard in the kitchen, presumably making breakfast.. or lunch.
You sat up, wincing as your muscles ached and the events of last night replayed in your head.
That was just a fucked up wet dream, right?
Your boyfriend stepped into the room, holding a plate.
"Hey babe, here, I made you some breakfast, thought you needed it after last night."
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