#it’s really nice bc I hate to wake him up just bc I need to check the door

[onlythebravest]

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[hornychristianprincess]

wasted (leehan x fem reader) pt 3

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re angry at yourself for believing him. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s better,” he mumbles contentedly.

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Instead of regret on his face, you see neutrality. 

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

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

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

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

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

>leehan: what are you doing?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Leehan, I’m gonna come.”

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

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

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

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

���Top drawer,” you confirm.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

>leehan: what are you doing?

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

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

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

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

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

“Excuse me, are you Han Taesan?”

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

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

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

“Y/N.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

part 4 can be found HERE

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

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

[the-bi-space-ace]

Clone Cuddle Headcanons

Wrecker is the biggest cuddle bug idk what to tell you. He does run hot however. The amount of times whoever he’s cuddling with wakes up sweating and a thousand degrees is unbelievable. He’s real great to lay on top of though. Right on top. Get up there.

Crosshair is a surprising confusing individual and I keep looking at him in disbelief. He’s not averse to touch but he does want to be the one to initiate it. Especially cuddling. He will sit by himself in silence and then randomly walk up and just plop on top of whoever he’s chosen. They then have to lay there and let him choose the position, the blanket situation, the temperature, etc. otherwise he’ll leave. Cat rules.*

Tech isn’t huge on cuddling either but is willing to not be the initiator if they also respect whatever activity he is doing. If he’s sitting working on a project he will allow one of them to lay their head in his lap or wrap around him as long as they aren’t in the way. He may even play with their hair or rub their backs absentmindedly.

Echo goes through phases. He wants to be touched but not all the time and sometimes he really hates it and other times he really craves it. It’s mainly important to either ask first or let him ask. He likes to sleep near another person and will choose someone to latch on to if he’s in a cuddling mood. Sometimes he literally can’t get enough physical contact to feel comfortable and it drives him up a wall. (Can I please suggest that part of the reason Hunter touches his shoulder so often is bc of those moods where Echo legitimately can’t get enough physical touch. I just think that would be a nice thought.) He feels best when he gets to hold someone else and he is especially partial to Wrecker who not only keeps him warm but also is pretty willing to switch the cuddling up at any point. Good man.

Hunter! Hunter here! Really enjoys a good cuddle! Loves his back scratched or his hair played with! He has passed out on top of the other batchers before and woken up two hours later not knowing where tf he is. He also appreciates a good weight on him so his preferred position if he’s holding somebody is on his back with the other person laying their head on his chest. He runs warm so he’s a good option for the cold nights.

Fives loves everyone’s personal space. Especially Echo’s. He is a cuddle while sleeping type of guy. No need to feel weird about asking him for a cuddle he’s down for it. If anyone sits on the edge of his bed while he’s trying to sleep he rolls over and wraps his arms around their waist and hugs them. Had so much practice at comfort when he was a cadet that it is second nature for him. When he joined the 501st he got real protective of the shinies so they sought him out often when they needed support.

Rex does like a good cuddle but only with specific people. Doesn’t really want to be touched by people he doesn’t know well. Is honestly more accustomed to touch if it’s playful but again. Usually with people he knows well. Likes to lay his head in people’s laps or let them fall asleep on him. Is not too hot or too cold. Got used to the dominos crawling into his bunk while he was asleep and had to adapt to them being clingy on bad days. Got used to it and ended up missing when they weren’t there. Cody calls him a softie. Says they ruined him forever. He gets so grumpy back.

Cody. This man. Idk why but I always headcanon him as a physical touch kind of guy. Doesn’t like overly fond affection in public spaces but is real affectionate in private. Like Rex he’s more comfortable with the playful affection but there’s always a spot in his bed if someone needs it. He’s rarely sleeping through the night anyway. Might as well be the support system for those who need it. More accustom to holding hands honestly. It’s quiet it’s easy he can still use his datapad while he holds someone’s hand.

*I have a cute addition which is that the first time Crosshair plopped down and decided Echo was going to be his cuddle target Echo was in the middle of something and Crosshair just threw whatever Echo was working on aside and laid his head in Echo’s lap while this man just looked at the rest of the batch like ‘help?!? He’s never done this before am I in danger? What do I do!?!’ And everyone else was just like ‘you’re fine just be normal about it’ and after a few minutes of silence he just plopped his hand on Crosshair’s head and that’s how they both accidentally took a three hour nap and woke up disoriented with aching necks.

[bobateaqwq]

dabihawks ship template thing bc I got boredd last night .. explaining more under the cut!!!

CW FOR LIGHT SEX TALK!!!!!!!

Big spoon and little spoon: I thinkkk it would be uncomfortable to be held from behind for hawks bc of his wings n stuff, even if he sheds all his feathers. so he tends to like being the big spoon!!! at first dabi would be against being the little spoon bc he thinks it makes him vulnerable and weak or wtv to be held but he does like being held by hawks. he just wants to be held and cared foorrr once he opens up more and their situationship develops more dabi is more open to being the little spoon.

Lends clothes, borrows clothes: hawks doesn't really have his own clothesss I think the commission definitely controls everything all the way down to what he wears. The most he has is sleep clothes, but he usually only ever wears his hero uniform. either way all of his clothes have holes in the back of them, so dabi isnt particularly fond of wearing his shirts LOL. maybe he'll steal a pants or two but other than that yeah dabi don't wear his clothes. I don't think hawks would wear dabis clothes either bc dabis clothes probably stink and they're all ripped HELPP ok so maybe they don't lend each other clothes help…

Pet names vs no pet names: hawks calls dabi dabs... hot stuff, firefly...... dabs... or whatever annoying nickname he can come up with. I think he also just likes calling dabi annoyingly sweet pet names like sweetheart bc it pisses dabi tf off and hawks thinks it's the funniest thing in the world. dabi almost never calls hawks hawks he only ever calls him birdie or birdbrain or heroo or literally anything condescending. hawks never takes it as that way tho no matter how much tries to mean it in a mean way hawks thinks it's just silly and sweet.

introvert and extrovert: this one's obviouuus for dabi at least he hates people... hates EVERYONE!!!! he'd rather stay in solitude and plot his revenge against his father or smmmthh hawks on the other hand was basically trained to deal with the public and overall be a social butterfly. so naturally yeah, hawks is around people and it's not that he doesn't mind being around people. but when his social battery dies out I think he definitely getss ehhh like usually he's good at keeping his silly chill attitude but I think at some point it does get too much and he much rather be alone. when it comes to dabi i think dabi is much more annoying and open and chatty w hawks which ultimately breaks through his sort of bad boy persona and feels more touya. while hawks eventually doesn't bother keeping his public persona up with dabi and just fills the silence hawks provides. it's nice i think they bring out touya and keigo out of each other

affectionate through words or actions: I think they both crave physical touch. growing up hawks was never rlllyyy cared for in the way he needed as a child, same w dabi i think they both just need a hug. I dooo think that they both definitely need words of affirmation from each other, with dabi growing up not feeling good enough or wtv and hawks growing up into believing he wasnt even his own person. but they both suck at it and they struggle to express how they feel for each other so I think they much rather show their care towards actions. for example hawks showing up to his and dabi's meets with extra take out to share with dabi and let him stay over, or dabi would help hawks preen his wings and hawks will sometimes wake up to breakfast or WHATEVER IDK but yeah. i think doing stuff for the other person makes them feel less vulnerable.

confessing first, or waits for confession: they don't confess. end of story. LOL. in boba yaoi world dabi doesn't die yaayyy and he's put through this whole rehabilitation process yada yada but eventually they confront each other after not seeing each other ever since dabi burned hawks' wings. whenn it comes to confrontation dabi is very good at pointing out hawks' bs and such but he struggles with opening about his own...feelings n stuff I guess while hawks has a hard time with confrontation in general. i think hes constantly deflecting dabi's jabs n stuff or wtv but errmm IDK. hawks never knows what to say during confrontations since he needs time to really... think about it and carefully calculate his words. normally he's good when it comes to making up stufff or reacting quickly I guess but when it comes to his ACTUAL feelings. to KEIGOS feelings and not hawks' then he's like.... he blanks... he doesn't know how to think for himself whooopppsss

screams about bugs, squashes with shoe: ok the more i think about it the more i think dabi would just squash the bug w no mercyyy and hawks would be more reluctant... i think neither of them are scared of bugs since dabi literally grew up in filth for most of his life and hawks just... isnt scared of them... dabis had to deal with insects all the time when he was homeless so he's just like... Done w them. IDK it's silly it's goofy theyre stupid

drives car. can't drive: dabi can't drive. period. he doesn't know how, if he were to, he'd fucking crash the car into anything in his way. shitty driver, never learned, never got his license, nothin!!! hawks on the other hand doooess knowww how to drivveeee but he doesn't like to. he flies everywhere, doesn't like driving bc he can't fit his wings in them and when he hates shedding his feathers just to fit in it bc it makes him feel all too VULNERABLE. and UNGUARDED!!!! so yeah he doesnt like to drive but he can. i think hes a crazy driver tho like with being the second fastest hero in japan hes like used to going super fast so he like drives so fucking fast bro ... other speed limit... takes sharp turns, stops abruptly, and overall he's freaking crazy. I think dabi also gets motion sickness so he hates riding with hawks HAHA hawks likes to carry him and fly anyway.... dabi hates it ....

can't cook for shit, makes dinner!: hawks dont know how to cook. his fridge is filled with expired foods. he only ever eats what the commission gives him bc they control his diet, and he's not really a picky eater. he also just never has time to cook sooooo yeah he doesn't have a lot of home cooked meals. but then dabi comes in and he's had to learn how to  do things for himself almost all his life so he definitely knows how to cook at least a lil. he clears out hawks fridge after he basically hangs out in his apartment and sometimes he decides to cook breakfast after hawks let's him sleep over ....... he likes to cook for hawks... secretly tho. if hawks ever brings it up he won't cook for him again for like a few weeks.

pda yes or no: hawks likes to show dabi off. in boba yaoi world where dabi doesnt die and instead goes through rehabilitation process and him and hawks start over as keigo and touya yada yada yada hawks LOVES to show dabi off... he'll be like yes!!! that's my boyfriend!!!!! giving him kisses n everything... dabi hates it. ok he doesn't hate it he does enjoy the attention and does enjoy being shown off but hes just sooo not used to experiencing like .... attention. not used to being pecked on the cheek outta no where, not used to being touched really. i think it's the same for hawks hes not used to physical contact but he deals w it differently in a way where he tries to do it MORE u know. but pre-war during their situationship era umm i think dabi still doesn't like it, and tells hawks to stop doing it until post-war. but even then situationship era they werent very pda anyway, so ya.

overprotective vs chill goin: i think they're both a bit possessive over each other. they both grew up without nothing, dabi more physically and hawks more emotionally. dabi grew up (orrr u know after his coma or wtvvv) living on the streets, used to not having anything nice ever in his life. even before, after enji deemed him unworthy touya got nothin. hawks grew up without having anything that was ever HIS. everything he's ever done or taught or grown up to do was all the commission. all his decisions were under the commission's influence. but hawks and dabi were each other's first thing to want for themselves, to HAVE for themselves. hawks also just instinctively becomes more possessive over dabi, w all his weird ass mate callings n stuff. and i think dabi just yearns for attention and hawks or whatever idk hawks was the first good thing that was ever in his reach, so dabi latched onto it very very quickly.

relationship experience or no relationship experience: they have. absolutely. zero. maybe dabi's had a fewwww hookups every now and then, but very very scarce since no one wants to be sleeping w a villainn!! and also bc he doesn't find use in finding someone since he's sooo dead set on plotting revenge against his father. the reason why hawks is different in this case bc he never meant to involve himself in something romantic w hawks, it just... happened. with hawks ermm i think the commission wouldn't allow him to date at alllll they wanna keep his personal life a minimummm they don't treat him like his own person. i think hes slept w ppl before but only bc it benefited the commission or smth IDK SMTH MESSED UP LIKE THAT yeah idk they dont know how to be good to each other relationship was nor how to properly navigate it. post-war they try though. they try for each other. SIGHHH I HATE THEMMM

horny level: idk. the reason why they start talking more is bc they hook up while exchanging info LOLL there's so much sexual tension between them it's CRAZY. I thinkkk sex is like a super important to their dynamic funny enough bc they begin to trust each other a lot more through it I guess. they need to blow off steam and theyre both weirdly attractive to each other. they match each other's freak!! yes!!! they are switches and i stanndd byyy thisss I dont think they have dom sub undertones i HATE when ppl make hawks a twinky sub stop it leave him alone. dabi's a pillow princess. putting this out there. LOL OK BUT SRSLY I think bottoming for dabi is just smth soooo vulnerable for him that when he eventually lets hawks do it it makes him trust him so much more bc hawks is SO so gentle w him like... idk how to explain it. it just makes sense in my head.

awkwardness level: dabi is one awkward freaking motherfucker. bro grew up alone in filth w the only thing driving him was his hatred for his father. past all the assholey and psycho behavior, he's just sooo freaking awkward. he's a loser. a lameo. he don't know how to speak!!!!! he also just hates people so yay. hawkss on the other hand was raised to know how to deal w the public. raised to interact easily w other pro heros and civilians, raised to be overall super chill and know how to talk to interviewers. hawks is good at talking to people, he knows what to say and when to say it to sweet talk his way into things. so for the most part hawks is never really awkward. keigo, on the other hand is def a tad bit more awkward. of course he's definitely still good at talking n all that bc u can't erase over two decades of training and practicing properly talking to people, but keigo is juusttt he's a lil less hawks. hes more unfiltered, not aiming to please everyone anymore. he lets himself feel other emotions, just lets himself relax n not be on guard all the time.

jealous level: with hawks bird half n all that comes lots of possessive traits... all his weird MATE instincts UGHHH. WEIRDO!!!!!! but yeah I think it just makes him a wee more protective over dabi in the sense that "he's mine!!! my bf!!!!!! go away!!!!!!!" but other than that he's not rlly jealous at all. he's very chill. very yas. DABI ON THE OTHER HAANNNDDD ohhohoohoho ok. like i said b4 hawks is literally the only good thing he's ever gotten to call his. during situationship era he's so fucking jealous bro bc people arent even supposed to know about their secret situationship thing. hawks can walk around w people fawning over him bc they don't knowww of what goes on between him and dabi. dabi HATES it bc hawks is a very popular hero with a shit ton of fans and fangirls and fanboys and whatever and dabi thinks it's the most aggravating thing in the WORLD. but post-war when they make it official dabi shows him tf off. like very subtly tho. in public he'll snake an arm around hawks' waist when fans are around ... or he'll glare at fangirls who get too close n all that IDK he's very jealous bratty silly billy. hawks treats him like a princess.

OKAYYY THATS IT. I did not intend on saying this much LOLLL goes to show how freaking crazy dabihawks is making me and how yaoi is RUINING MY LIFE. okay thanks for reading if u actually read this farr I lovee dabihawkksss okay bye

[webslingingslasher]

trouble asking peter if they're still friends after a fight bc not only are they lovers but also best friends🥲❤️‍🩹

it's been hours since the argument. you've both talked it out, apologized and made up to each other. so why do you still feel unsettled?

'peter?'

you scoot backwards on the bed until you bump his back with yours. 'peter?' you bounce against him, you earn an unhappy whine.

'peter?'

'what?' peter's talking like he's in a library.

you barely rest against him, you're scared you'll annoy him even more with your touch. maybe you shouldn't have woken him up, you might've just dug a deeper hole for yourself.

you stay silent, he might just think you were sleeptalking. peter doesn't buy it for a second. normally he'd be totally fine with going back to sleep but he can always sense when you're upset and really need him.

'please tell me you didn't wake me up just to pretend to be asleep.'

you turn to lightly scratch his back, he hums and arches into your touch. 'it's stupid, sorry for waking you up.' peter could leave it there, but he's a damn good boyfriend.

'tell me.' he's already awake, what's the harm in a light conversation?

biting the bullet, you ask the looming question on your mind.

'are we still friends?'

peter rolls onto his back and looks up at you, your hand is nearly squished in the process. he's disoriented from sleep and you just threw him a curveball. you feel silly but it's important.

'what?' he heard you loud and clear, the randomness of the question caught him off guard.

'are we still friends?' peter relaxes into his bed, he's going right back to dreamland. 'trouble, you're my girlfriend.' that's not the answer you wanted.

'but i'm still your best friend, right?' your voice cracked with your ask, peter opens his arm for a cuddle and you stitch yourself into his side. 'of course you are,' it's solidified with a small peck at your hairline.

'even if i say mean things?' you were the reason for the fight, you jumped at peter the second he got home because he promised he'd do dishes and he didn't. it made you spew a dozen things you've been holding in and peter was caught off guard while you backed him into a corner.

you weren't nice, even when peter said he understood why you were upset. it took him softly humming as he rinsed out cups for you to realize how nasty you were. peter just let you go off on him, he told you he was sorry and he should've cleaned them before he left and he didn't forget, he just adjusted his schedule.

peter took your upset in stride and didn't bicker back. instead he agreed and told you he'd make sure to put his chores first and all it took was him humming for you to come to your senses.

you had tucked your tail between your legs and approached him, resting your forehead on his arm so you could hide the shame. 'i'm sorry.' you know there's more to add, you just needed to say it before anything else.

peter brushed off your apology, he said sorry for some things too. you both made dinner together as a patch to your argument and peter thought it ended in the kitchen but your mind is still replaying your mess up.

'you weren't mean, you were venting. it wasn't just about the dishes, it's how i started to slack off on everything because i got used to you offering. i've been a bad roommate and you called me out on it, i didn't take it as a personal attack on our relationship.'

it's true. peter wasn't used to having someone do his laundry or pick up the little messes he leaves behind and it reached a point where all he was starting to do was burden you, the dishes were just the final straw.

he doesn't hate you or resent you. but does he still like you?

'so are we still friends?' peter almost lets out a laugh but he holds it in for your sake. 'you're my best friend and my girlfriend, trouble. that's never going to change.'

'it isn't?'

'well,' peter kisses your shoulder and tightens his hold. 'until i give you a ring.' 

[myokk]

I had so much fun writing this up as I drank my coffee this morning, thanks for making the templates @kiwiplaetzchen 🥹🙏

A little bit of backstory for Eloise - I’ll do an actual drawing etc etc in the future but for now if you’re interested!!:

Eloise has a brother, Leonard (Leo) who is a year older than her (I want to draw him soon!!) and her parents are both (unfortunately 😔🙏) still very much alive. If the family had continued to the 1930s, they would DEFINITELY have been part of the Sacred 28, making it the Sacred 29 instead. Her father was an only child so he inherited everything, and her mother is Elladora Babbit née Black, the woman who started the Black family tradition of beheading useless house elves😭 (and yes unfortunately that makes Headmaster Black Eloise’s uncle😫).

Eloise was kept a secret from the rest of magic society her whole life. In my imagination, the pureblood families have so much inbreeding amongst themselves that it’s not uncommon for them to give birth to squibs. Part of pureblood culture is not announcing they’ve given birth to a child until they’ve shown signs of magic - normally around 3/4 years old at most. When Eloise never showed ANY signs of magic, she was just their shameful secret. On her eleventh birthday when it was all but confirmed she was a squib, she was burned off the family tree and spent the next five years at a muggle finishing school. Always looking to take advantage of whatever they could get, however, Eloise’s parents arranged a marriage between her and the firstborn son of a wealthy muggle landowner when she came of age.

Her family had no idea that she was admitted to Hogwarts (they cut off all ties to her and disowned her) and Leo, who had always been fiercely protective of her growing up was simultaneously devastated and ecstatic that he could see his sister again. It’s been really hard to repair the relationship though, as there is a lot of resentment that they cannot get over even though they want to😭. And, for as much as her parents dictated everything about how her life has gone, Eloise can’t help but try to work hard to get their love and approval as it’s all she ever thought she wanted. And now that she’s in a position to become the daughter they’ve always desired, she feels a lot of resentment towards herself. She feels as if she’s betraying the young girl who was abandoned by her family, because she wants their approval so badly (it will take a while for her to get over this😔🙏)

In terms of the personality I did it a bit like the sims where I just max things out bc I think everything in the middle is boring jajajaja. But:

Shy: not shy in the sense she can’t talk to other people and she isn’t necessarily socially awkward. She just doesn’t always know what to say and will remain silent if she thinks she has nothing to add to a conversation instead of yapping away (BUT unfortunately rambles and over explains herself to not be misunderstood when she does talk, THANKS narcissistic mother), and normally she wishes people would ignore her. When the Daily Prophet article came out about her “miraculous” recovery and introduction to magical society she HATED it & she HATES all of the people trying to talk to her and befriend her.

Active: NOT active as in super energetic. She just wakes up really early and always needs to keep herself busy. She gets anxious if she doesn’t have anything to do - but, she includes thinking as doing something, and often retreats into her thoughts and doesn’t realize when people are talking to her.

I think grouchy and nice can exist together so with this one I put it in the middle. She’s both simultaneously😭

Aaaand with cowardly/brave, she thinks she is really cowardly for going back to her parents so easily and wanting their love so badly, and hates herself for it (not realizing it’s an accumulation of a lifetime of emotional trauma). But lots of times when things get very high-stakes she will jump in and do incredibly reckless things without thinking of the consequences, although if she stopped to think before she acted she would definitely NOT do them. So maybe brave in actions, cowardly on the inside (IDK)

If you read all of this I love you!! I want to share more about her but this was getting crazy long jajajajajajaja😇🙏

[pjsk-writin]

Hgrelp its like 11pm n i got baptised but anyways

Can i request hc's (+ a small lil story) of the pjsk boys with a gn reader who like nEEDS to hold something while resting in bed/sleeping bc they've always been sleeping with a plushie n it feels weird for them to not hold sum and then when the boys ask the reader they don't wanna admit it but like the nexy time the chara comes into the readers room theyre just like sleeping w/ a plushie n they go like "oh so thats why"

Tldr; gn! Reader who alaays clings onto character bc it feels weird not to hold a plushie -> when character asks why the reader doesnt admit it -> but when character comes into the readers room to jand oht they see them cuddling w/ a plushie -> character fibally realizes why

HSIDEJ TY

FBSMKSF HELP ? but omg this is so cute....I hope u like this !! <3

♡ CLINGING IN SLEEP - Akito Shinonome, Toya Aoyagi, Tsukasa Tenma and Rui Kamishiro x Reader

Akito:

He would never admit it to you, but Akito gets really flustered any time you cling onto him in your sleep-

It's one of the main reasons why he asks you actually. Not that he doesn't like it, he just hates when you wake up and see him all flustered-

Much to his surprise, you get pretty flustered when he asks, dodging his question with a small laugh. Well, now he needs to know-

His investigation always fails...Until the day you let him hang out at your house. He discovers it rather quickly

"Hey, babe? Do you have-" He walked into your room, finding you clinging onto a plushie like a lifeline. "...Oh."

He grins, stepping closer and looking at the plushie in your hands. He takes a picture to tease you about it, but a part of him can't stop thinking about how cute you look <3

Toya:

Toya might get flustered by you clinging onto him, but he finds that it's really nice actually...You always make him feel so warm

He asks you out of pure curiosity, not wanting you to stop persay, more wanting to know just in case he's ever not there for you to cling onto

You dodge his question in response, and he just drops it because he doesn't want to make you uncomfortable...

Luckily though, he gets the answer to his question when he hangs out at your house.

"Hon, are you okay?" He walked into your room, before pausing once he noticed you clinging onto a plushie, the exact same way you clung onto him. "Ah..."

He watched you sleep for a bit, before tucking you into bed properly, kissing your forehead and fixing the plushie in your hands. How adorable... <3

Tsukasa:

Tsukasa was absolutely ecstatic when he realized you cling onto him when you sleep. He loves affection, and it makes him happy any time you hug him close!

He asks you about it with a wide grin, finding the habit a cute little quirk of yours

You end up dodging his question, and he pesters you about it before huffing. Fine then, he'll find out! A future star can solve mysteries on his own!

He figures it out when you invite him to hang out, and he's ecstatic

"My favorite co-star! Are you?-" He cut himself off when he saw you clinging onto a plushie, and his eyes widened before sparkling at the sight. "Aha!"

He keeps quiet, tip-toeing up to your side to see the plushie you were clinging onto. He grins and pats your head and its head, already planning to show you his own plushies <3

Rui:

Rui absolutely melts whenever you cling onto him in your sleep. He tries to hide it, but the wide grin on his face shows it quite obviously.

He asks you about it one day to tease you, that same amused grin on his face as he asked you

You dodged his question, which made him poke and tease you even more about it. Don't worry, he's sure to find out soon...

And that he does, once he hangs out at your house one day

"Dearest, do you happen to have a screw?-" He paused once he saw you sleeping, clinging onto your plushie. "Oh my...What do we have here?"

He absolutely memorizes the plushie's look so that he can tease you about it, but he spends his time watching you with a small smile. He envies the plushie in that moment <3

[toxictigertonic]

Three count em THREE whole people said they liked my headcanons and wanted more so I'm back with more, this time for how they sleep bc I think it's funny.

COYLE

- Like a damn ROCK.

- But also, extremely vigilant at the same time.

- You could pick him up, shake him, scream in his face, he sleeps. Door cracks open a little? Floorboard creaks? He's up and ready for a fight.

- I really hope he'd sleep in boxers but he strikes me as a butt ass naked kinda guy. Enter his room at your own peril he WILL fight naked.

- Sleeps with his arms to his side, stiff as a board. Dead center of the bed though so good luck if you're looking to share with him.

- Sleeps like that partly bc of military and partly bc if he sleeps on his side he drools.

- Snores like a fucking lawn mower. Has woken people up from a sound sleep bc of it. People are holding grudges.

- The sunglasses and hat stay ON.

- No blankets, no sheets. You can guess how awful this is with the whole sleeping naked thing.

- Sleep walker. Again, awful when you remember that he's nakey.

- One pillow. There is a perfectly head shaped dent in it from his bald ass dome.

GOOSEBERRY

- How many pillows can you fit on a bed? Okay now double it.

- Her bed has the comfiest blankets and the biggest quilt ever.

- Futterman gets his own pillow, so she sleeps on her back with one arm up on the pillow and the other resting on her stomach.

- This is because if he doesn't have his own pillow he'll complain. Also he'll get lost in the mess of blankets.

- She still does the Futterman voice in her sleep. Futterman talks in his sleep. Futterman does not say nice things in his sleep.

- She also talks in her sleep but she's talking about making sure the children are safe or that her pie needs to come out of the oven while Futterman says things about dental hygiene (and how you'll be taught about it whether you like it or not)

- The ONLY one of the prime assets that brushes her teeth before bed. Doesn't wash her face though.

- If she didn't have Futterman to worry about she'd be a side sleeper, pillow tucked under her head and blanket tucked up under her chin.

- She'd have one stuffed animal me thinks. I'd say it's the duck but that feels too simple. How about a mmm ratty old cat.

- Wakes up with the blankets off of her everytime. She doesn't know how it happens but it does.

- Wears the cutest pajama set ever. Futterman deserves pajamas too.

- Sleepytime tea connoisseur. Chamomile with cinnamon and honey every night.

FRANCO

- Again, God help us where do I begin.

- He is my little skrunkly so I say this all with love. Maybe. Potentially. Maybe a little hate.

- Would absolutely spend the money to get an adult sized crib to sleep in. Maybe Murkoff got him one just to make him a little less of a brat (affectionate).

- Sooooo many stuffed animals. So many. From classic stuffies to weird stuffed animals you never would've thought existed.

- He cuddles with the same one every night though, without fail. According to character ai it's a pink elephant so I'm going with that.

- I feel like he'd have a special pajama set for each weekday. Or he'd wear whatever the hell he was wearing during the day to bed. Not sure which.

- If he doesn't have the binky he'll resort to thumb sucking, he won't sleep if he can't have one or the other.

- Also needs sound to sleep, a silent room makes him antsy. Typically has cartoons going.

- (Sad one for those of you who like angst) Dreams about what life could've been like if he had a happy family. Wakes up in tears every time.

- (Cute one to apologize for that) He's clingy as all hell. If someone were to sleep in the same bed as him they'd become his human teddy bear. Good luck getting up this mother fucker has Grip and is so starved for positive attention.

- He wakes up groggy as hell. Give him 30 minutes after he's gotten up bc before then he barely remembers where he is.

- Kicks in his sleep. And they're not gentle kicks either that little bastard is MEAN.

- Drools, sorry not sorry.

- If you pet his head he'll be out like a light :)

Let me know if there are any specific headcanons you'd like to hear out of my noggin because I promise I have plenty. I can talk about these freaks alllll day.

[saintzweig]

ok we’re getting sappy and soft for a second bc I wanna know your thoughts on patrick or art or both and how they’d do with a partner who struggles from chronic pain, bc I have chronic migraines and i feel like both of them would be so tender and delicate and nice when you’re in a flare up and I’m just. I’m sappy tonight mars!! - 🎾

i hope you feel better soon :( migraines suck ass so i hope this makes you feel better even a little bit !!!

art definitely would drop everything to help make you feel better. he'd cancel plans for an entire day so he can stay at home and take care of you. doing all chores so you wouldn't have to, he'd cook your comfort food and get you medicine. he'd lay in bed with you and let you lay your head on his chest. he'd kiss you on the forehead while his hand is on your back, stroking your skin gently. he'd hum you to sleep and you'd doze off feeling the vibration on his chest. then you'd wake up alone with a warm/cold cloth on your forehead, the lights off and a bottle of water on your bedside. while he's in the kitchen making dinner. he'd schedule appointments for you, make sure you sleep enough and he'd do yoga with you as well :) art is already a gentle person in general but he hates seeing you in pain and it just turns him into the softest, most caring person.

patrick wouldn't take it seriously at first, i think. until he sees how much pain your in and starts to panic, he's not really good at taking care of sick people and you had to reassure him you're not dying, you just need to rest. he'd disappear for a while and come home with a bag filled with different medications because he doesn't know which one would help, and a bag with takeout– soup, because he's not a good cook. over time he learned how to make things easier, he'd do chores and clean his mess so it doesn't stress you out or anything, he'd switch all light bulbs in your apartment to warm ones to soothe you and make sure not to be so loud, especially with putting things down or closing doors. he'd sit at the end of the bed while you lay down, your feet on his lap as he massages you. whenever you're at an event, he'd be by your side all the time because he's worried something will trigger your migraine and he wants to be there for you. definitely a lot different from his former self who's usually careless which he learned not to be for and with you.

[audr3yyyyy]

hiiiiii can i request a jake enemies to lovers fic? like reader is friends with tara and carrington but always “hated” jake for some reason, and he doesn’t like her either. i put “hated” in quotes bc they don’t actually hate each other, they just never got along and find each other annoying but you know… there’s always also been sexual tension. and it could start out really angsty but escalate into them having an argument that ends with them hooking up / realizing they’re attracted to each other. doesn’t have to be smut if u don’t want it to, idk you can really do whatever you want but ik ur rules said to be specific hehe :) IF YOU DO THIS ILL BE SO EXCITED WE NEED MORE JAKE CONTENT ON THIS APP I FEEL LIKE IM ONE OF THE MAIN JAKE WRITERS AND THERE NEEDS TO BE MOREEEE !!!!

- gray aka @sh4wty18 🦇

who's gonna get fucked first? (pt.1)

MDNI 18+ enemies to lovers, fem!reader, little angst, jake and reader being rude but they don't mean it, forced proximity, 'betting on a hookup' trope (super wattpad, ik leave me alone) secondary pov of carrington & jonhnnie is split up with the pink dividers !!!! *not proofread sry, it's late :3

maybe you were the biggest hypocrite alive. for months you've verbalized your severe disliking for jake ― a mutual "friend" of yours through carrington. heavy on the quotes.....you wouldn't exactly call him a friend. he made your blood boil sometimes and you weren't quiet about it. but to be fair, neither was he. you were certain he hated you just as much as you hated him. his little glares, scoffs, and insults were fucking constant. god, the amount of times you've threatened to run him over with his own tesla.....too may to count. he had this innate ability of knowing just how to get under your skin and it makes you to strangle him ― which you probably could, if only you could reach him. he was stupidly tall and you hated it. you hated his stupid long, muscular arms littered with dumb tattoos. his stupid black hair and how it looked all wet at the last pool party he threw. how easily he picked you up and tossed you into the water at said party, as if you weighed nothing. you were so mad when he did that, but he just laughed and pointed like a dumbass. what you hated the most, though, was how many little things you "hated" and how they seem to never leave your brain. you'd never tell anyone, but you've had dreams about him. they're never too long or detailed, but lewd nature of them is enough for you to wake up in a cold sweat, shaky and confused.

unfortunately, with sharing the same friend group and being around him constantly, you haven't really had time to figure this whole ordeal out. you'd planned to sweep it under the rug, continuing to hate him and the match the energy he gave you, but it seems as though carrington and johnnie have other plans for you two.

"i told you guys, i can go get the food. i don't mind." you practically beg them as carrington grabs his keys and johnnie slips his boots on.

carrington shakes his head, placing his hands on your shoulders and gently pushing you back to your seat on the couch next to jake. "no, no, no. nice try, you're not getting out of this." he cracks a satisfied grin at how closely you sit next to jake. "see! that wasn't hard, huh? you two don't always have to be trying to kill each other, you can get along and be happy! that's all we want!" carrington beams ecstatically, nudging johnnie to chime in.

johnnie jolts back from the force of carrington's nudge, "ow-but yeah he's right. and also i just want this whole bullshit to be over. it's honestly really annoying to have to break up your arguments all the time. and i don't like confrontation, it stresses me out."

"well, there wouldn't be any argument's if y/n wasn't always trying to pick a fight with me." jake quips, reaching forward for a redbull from the center table.

you immediately frown at his words, "i'm the one that picks fights? oh, that's fucking rich. you're the one always making me the butt of every joke and attacking every little thing that i do."

carrington steps in, interrupting jake before he can get a word out, "well, okay! we're gonna leave you guys to it. this is good a start, sort letting it all out ― i like it. we'll be back with the food and drinks in an hour or so, which means you have plenty of time to squash whatever this is, yeah?" he slowly steps back towards the front door, speaking calmly, as if the wrong tone will set you two off completely.

johnnie nods along, following carrington, "just please don't actually kill each other."

jake laughs a little at how genuinely scared johnnie is, "johnnie, we're not gonna kill each other, calm down. we're just gonna talk, like carrington said."

"yay, i can't wait." you deadpan, sarcastically.

"that's the spirit! i believe in you!" carrington cheers, swinging the door open and leaving alongside johnnie.

the minute the door shuts, the room falls dead silent. the air is thick and, for some reason, your heart starts to beat quicker. jake clears his throat and adjusts his position on the couch, facing you more now.

"if this is about throwing you into the pool, then-"

"yeah, that was a dick move..." you say flatly, avoiding his eyes and keeping them on what little space there was between you two. "i'm gonna have water in my ears till christmas...."

jake stifles a laugh, trying to keep his face neutral, "you were being a buzzkill, i had to lighten up the mood! the whole party you were hiding around and being weird. i thought maybe you just needed to loosen up." he shrugs, taking a swig of his drink.

"loosen up?" you squint your eyes at him, unhappy with his choice of wording.

"yeah, you heard him. sometimes....most of the time," he corrects himself, "you kind of have a stick up your ass."

your frown grows deeper and you scoff at him, "wow."

"what??? is that so wrong to say? it's fucking true! look, i don't know what or when, but i must of done something for you to always avoid me. and when you're not avoiding me, you're bitching about something. i don't get it!" jake's voice starts to rise, visibly becoming upset.

"okay, don't act like you haven't been shitty too. always picking on me and embarrassing me. you make me feel so fucking stupid all the time, jake, and it drives me crazy!" it was your turn to raise your voice, albeit a little uneven. your face started to feel hot and, suddenly, you were all too aware of the veins on his forearms as he scratched the back of his neck. wait....

"uh, maybe i should text jake to see how it's going." johnnie sighs in the passenger seat, digging for his phone from his pocket while carrington drives.

"dude, we're not even out of the neighborhood yet, no. give it time, i'm sure they're just fine." carrington says suggestively, trying to contain a smirk.

"why are you talking like that? you're scaring me." jonhnnie puts his phone back away.

"oh, c'mon. i thought it was super obvious." carrington's eyes flick between johnnie and the road, seeing if johnnie is understanding.

"what do you mean?"

carrington laughs at johnnie's oblivion, "jake and y/n want to fuck each other." he states bluntly.

"WHAT?" johnnie yells,"no they don't, they definitely don't. you've seen how they bicker, right? she threatened to run him over! remember that?"

"nah, it's textbook enemies to lovers, trust me. it's like the shit on tumblr with the sexual tension and stuff."

"jesus christ, do you even hear yourself right now? you sound insane. if they wanted to fuck each other so bad, then why are they so mean to each other?"

"because, dude, think about it. first of all, they both have huge egos and don't like to admit shit, even if it's true. second of all, they're, like, never alone just the two of them.....until now, of course."

johnnie puts his hands out in front of him for some kind of mental stability, "wait, wait, slow down....you planned this didn't you? is that why you ordered pizza from another fucking area code and didn't let y/n pick it up?"

"guilty." carrington admits, switching lanes.

"you scare me."

"hey! you said it yourself, the bullshit bickering is getting old. so, if this is what it takes to end it then, what's little time out of the house, huh?" carrington aggressively judges johnnie again.

"ow-okay, but what are the odds they actually hookup? like, if we're being realistic here. because, honestly, i don't think they're gonna."

carrington hums, checking the directions on his phone at the red light. he's quiet for a moment, clearly scheming, before the light turns green and finally speaks confidently,"wanna bet?"

sooooo smutty part 2 or what?

໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა taglist ; @nativegirltapes

lmk if u wanna be added !!!!

[persistentplums]

Yk if venture bros was brave (gay like me) in an act of mutual self destruction and pain Johnny and Rusty would’ve fucked. Do you see the horrible vision I’m making?

They were friends, then turned not great because of their respective parents Jonas whispering some mean and half untrue things about Johnny to Rusty and Dr.Quest hating Jonas guts etc so they drift apart but still lowkey have a good relationship out of sentimental nostalgia.

Fast forward to Johnny dad death and Rusty tries to help him but Rusty helping is like adding sugar to chilli so it doesn’t work out they drift apart again.

When Jonas dies I think Rusty realizes he’s alone, for real. In a weird sense he didn’t get why Johnny was so torn up, Johnny who warned Rusty so early in his life who was already wise to the entire ego of both their fathers but grief hit Johnny like a truck and Rusty didn’t get it. Now he does and I think in a need to feel destroyed, just tear apart something, he wants something to destroy him.

I think it would be a mix of care, pain, destruction, selfishness on both men part bc the only person who gets it is the other and it doesn’t solve shit. Rusty doesn’t get the feeling of destruction he wakes up and he’s still Rusty and his dad isn’t going to show up to destroy him for bumping ugly with Quest. And Johnny is going to wake up alone, because Rusty left and realize it has never been really about him like his whole life has never really been about him.

They both don’t have hard feelings about it tbh it’s the unspoken understanding hey we are the exact brand of fucked up. By the time the therapist episode happens I think Johnny is aware of his loneliness and accepts it so when dr.zin visits it’s kinda like nice to know there’s someone looking out for him.

I just think it would be funny in that way that isn’t funny at all but funny like thrown in one day by Rusty off handedly but the real story-just like all of his stories-are depressing af but nobody *needs* to know that part. Just like “big whoop who hasn’t fucked a Quest.” energy

[ideasarestuckinmyhead]

Auron, Alphonse, and Charlie reacting to the listener asking for a baby HCs?

Maybe one wouldn't hurt....

Chat I think this is bc of that one dream I posted about having a baby.

Looking at a mom who was bouncing her baby, giggling as the adorable shouts from the infant. Not realizing you were staring at the duo, your boyfriend looked where your attention was caught. You then looked down at your empty hands and mumbled.

"I want a kid...Could we have one?" Questioning in a daze. Turning back to your partner who paused, looking at you.

Auron

I feel like it's going to be a soft no.

Auron has a dangerous second life, as he said wolves nip at his feet all the time.

A kid being brought into that is not something he wants. Auron want's his kids, if he ever has them to be safe and not need to worry.

He already worries of dying and leaving you alone. With a kid added? Auron would break leaving you alone with your kid in the world.

The idea is nice, having one or two kids together and Auron waking up to a easy life. Maybe having a cabin he takes them during the holidays, being in their lives. Unlike his mom, he loves her but Auron wished he could have her more in his life.

But, he can't have that. Giving it to a child after he's too old, no, he won't do that.

So he sadly looks at you and says I can't. Auron hates he can't give you something you really want.

Charlie

He wants to say maybe, but with how he is right now? No.

Charlie thinks of when you and him would be stable enough to have a family.

He'd want a semi big family, maybe three? but Charlie knows kids are dipshits and are expensive.

Things like these makes Charlie wish he had money, to give you things but he can only do so much.

The idea of a nice white picket fence and coming home to being greeted by the kids. It sounds like a fantasy that could be in his reach.

Charlie can't see him right now having a kid, after knowing he sold shit to kids, got into a gang, was a rat, and got out? Then got with you somehow, Charlie is on a maybe but ends up saying no.

He does make a joke that the lil guy can be your guy's practice baby. For when you finally do have one.

Alphonse

He literally panicked once thinking you were pregnant so it's going to be a no. Also jokes how both of you have like 3 dollars together in a bank account.

Sure he's thought of having kids, living him his childhood house where he grew up. But, it breaks his heart his parent's will never meet them.

If he ever did decided to have kids? Maybe one, he knows he was a handful and the world isn't ready for a gaggle of Alphonse's just yet.

His biggest concern is money and also a dark thought of what if someone from the past he's fucked over comes and get the kids?

Alphonse was already worried to the bone w Derek with you since he knew where you lived. If there was kids? He'd be on a war path to protect them.

So he says no to having kids, if the stars ever do align to have them? Maybe, but there has to be planning and money is need for a kid.

On some days he does think about the family you could have. But wishes his parent's were here to help him think about this more.

[daeyumi]

hcs for Link, GO!

cw: mention of possible self harm; mention of injury

spoilers for totk events & end of totk

okay so i’ll be doing these for botw/totk link since he’s the link i feel the most familiar with

also i’m sorry that this list ended up like 8 miles long lol & believe me i had to restrain myself a lot

- transmasc (he/him or he/they)

- aroace

- sleeps on his back

- NOT a morning person. he likes his sleep & has trouble waking up sometimes (so many ppl seem to hc him as an early riser but i just. don’t see it lol. i think he’s the kind of person who woke up from that 100 year nap asking for 5 more minutes)

- /can/ talk, chooses not to. when he speaks his voice always has that quiet scratchy quality to it like he hasn’t used it in a while

- likes having his hair brushed

- his hair is full of leaves & at least 4 different sticks at any given time

- loves puns. the stupider the better

- likes dressing pretty. he doesn’t get the chance to do it often & most of his clothes are caked in blood & sweat so it feels good to look nice occasionally

- #1 questionable food enjoyer

- big gremlin energy

- naturally warm hands

- probably has a sweet tooth

- a bit of a hoarder. a habit he picked up from being alone in the wild for so long

- favorite fruit- apples

- probably musically inclined & would be good at playing an instrument

- loves animals (also great with animals)

- really spontaneous & gets distracted easily

- his arm doesn’t magically grow back post-totk. after the end of the events of totk, he is missing his right arm up to the bicep & has heavy scarring around his right shoulder, basically the same area where the zonai tattoos were when he had rauru’s arm

- heavily scarred in general. this one is basically canon, but i figured i’d include it since link’s character model doesn’t have any visible scars (even tho robbie in botw mentions needing to see link’s scars as proof that it’s really him. give link visible scars nintendo u cowards)

- self conscious about his scars, especially the ones from pre-calamity era that he can’t remember how he got them. they’re a constant reminder of the missing part of his life

- (totk) extremely uncomfortable with having rauru’s arm attached to his body. he hates that it is not his own and it feels alien and strange to him even tho it still operates as if it’s a part of his own body. borderline wants to self harm bc he does not want “his” arm that does not belong to him- hates the sight of it but has to deal with it because of its usefulness to him

- doesn’t do well in social interactions that involve more than 1 other person. /maybe/ 3-4 if he knows them Really Well

- extremely uncomfortable with being known as the hero of hyrule actually

- moderate to severe insomnia. he’s been through a lot & has a ton of nightmares as a result

- definitely has some degree of ptsd

- feels extremely guilty about all the ppl he can’t remember from 100 years ago— he regrets their deaths, but more so than missing the people themselves, he feels guilty that he can’t even remember them to mourn them properly. complicated emotions surrounding this, he doesn’t like to talk about it.

[kai71007]

OKAY Y'ALL, I NEED SOME OPINIONS

What are your thoughts on the last episode of Arcane season 2?

Here's mine: (SPOILERS!!)

Okay so first of all, i don't HATE it, i just wish it wasn't the way they went with it, It really sucks to have an ending not be what it could have been (heh "what could have been" ouch), especially when the show had so SO much potential, i know i know "they were trying to get them to be like in the game", to bad i don't care, bc so many more people watch then show then play LoL, they could have still done that while having an actual ending to be proud of, that made everyone watching feel like the show ended nicely, instead of .. This, the arcs are concluded, but at what cost?

This show had so much potential and seriously, they could have done way better, Riot you had so many eyes on this final act and it was fumbled imo

Not to say i wont be rewatching it over and over again, bc i will! And theres probably stuff i missed that could change my opinions, but these are just my thoughts for now

Something that bugged me in particular,

I feel like Jinx could have had a little more of a reaction to Ishas death, season 1 showed us how her visions affected her and we barely got any of that in season 2, we didn't even get a Selvika reaction to Isha being gone, like it was completely brushed over that she was even there in the first place so WHY was she even there?? And i feel like the ending with Victor was rushed and confusing, Ekko just hits him in the face and he wakes up from all the lives he's breaking? Huh?? (That part might have to be explained to me bc im still so confused)

Feel free to leave your thoughts, hey who knows, you'll probably change my mind on the ending

[starz222]

operation: true love | scaramouche x gn!reader

synopsis. scaramouche is one of the highest ranking students in teyvat high! how is it like having him as a seatmate?  notes. scaramouche as eunhyeok. based off ep 23 of operation: true love on webtoon !  i haven't read operation: true love since aug 2022, i only read until ep 10 bc the rest needed fast pass. anyway, i know this scene bc of a tiktok edit, the premise is similar but slightly different! i read webtoon a lot, so dialogue is also referenced from seasons of blossom! not proofread !!

it's math class, and you weren't paying attention. you begin to doze off as the chalk clashes with the board. in an attempt to stay awake, you rip a piece of scratch paper and draw a hashtag with a circle in the center. you write a little note underneath – "let's play." 

you pass it to your seatmate, scaramouche, one of the highest ranking students in the school. of course, he had plenty of rivals– albedo, alhaitham, heizou, ayato… they were countless, but being his seatmate, you watch his competitiveness, his need to win. 

he takes your note and entertains your request. you thought he'd crumple it up, but you realized that he already knew what the teacher was discussing and didn't care. 

you play a few games– 0-10. 

you mutter under your breath, "damn it." scaramouche chuckles and returns the scratch paper to you, "y/n. let's not play anymore. you're too bad at this game, it's not fun." 

your mouth is agape, offended by his words. you knew he always spoke the truth, and you hated how blunt he was but he was always right. 

"alright class, i'll be handing out these papers. answer them in 15 minutes or less." your math teacher raises their voice, not shouting, but only to wake up those who have dozed off. 

shit. 

your classmates complain about the given time, it's too short, they tell your teacher. "it would be easy if you paid any attention." 

shit (the sequel)

you recieve your paper, and in the past minutes all you've written down is your name. you take a glance at scaramouche, well his paper. you watch as he flicks his pen and makes clean, fast strokes. he solves the problems with ease, nearly done with the paper. the tip of his pen is thin and his answer sheet is neat and is organized, the rest of the solving is done mentally. 

pretty handwriting. 

you look at his hands,

pretty hands.

wait, what?

snap out of it! he’s your seatmate, and exams are up, so i really have to do well– no, scratch that, i have a surprise quiz right now! i know it’s wrong but… maybe i could just take a peek at his answers? 

you lean closer to him to look at his paper, since his writing is incredibly thin and long, you can’t see it well, so you squint. it doesn’t help when his left hand covers the other half of his paper, hey– move, i can’t see it! you sigh. eventually, he retreats his left arm and his shoulders tense because of your stare. you were lost in your thoughts, happy now that his arm wasn’t blocking the way, until his left hand grabbed the edge of your chair and pulled you closer. 

he turns to you, “can you see it better?” he furrows his brows and sighs. he stares at you, directly into your eyes. “yea- yeah.” you mutter. “good, now write quickly, would you? time’s almost up, and your paper is as blank as your mind.” he goes back to solving his paper.

you couldn’t even get mad at his comment, after all, he’s letting you copy his work. and, you were focused on his strength, how he was able to pull you by the chair with only one hand.

his hands are big, maybe that’s why. haha.. 

you watch as he passes you a piece of torn paper with a note– “exams are coming up, if you need help, just say so.”

“thanks, you’re pretty.” 

he stops writing.

“i mean pretty nice–you’re pretty nice.”  his ears turn bright red, you’re pretty… nice too, he thinks.

[shadowtraveled]

what TMA entities would you assign the dungeon lords, esp mithrun? was discussing this (bc marcille is sooo End) and consulting your Seminal Mithrun Meta when i remembered you also went here!

anon i want you to know i was thinking about this nonstop like two weeks ago oh my god. i’d love to hear your thoughts on this if you’re so inclined 👁‍🗨 (and wheeze thank you i don’t know about seminal but i’m glad it passed peer review)

putting a readmore here for spoilers

to preface this, i understand the fears aren’t really separate and it’s all just fear etc but they function as distinct in the way the demons do and in the sense that they each had to mark jon to come into the world. so. distinctive facets of a unified whole. anyway i have two criteria for assigning someone a tma entity: it has to be something they deeply fear, and it has to be something they choose anyway.

and with that being said, marcille is SO end-aligned in a very gentle and chill way i think fits the end so nicely… her intense fear of death is sort of a fear of loss, which would typically be considered the desolation’s domain, especially when coupled with her aptitude for explosion/fire magic and the part of her arc where she tries to expand the dungeon, but she wasn't choosing destruction or hopelessness in either of those cases—there’s something to be said for the carnage she was willing to leave in her wake, but at the end of the day she was trying to eliminate loss. she's fundamentally incompatible with the desolation because she continually rejects it, and the loss itself doesn't form the core of her fear. the inevitability of death, though, does, and she accepts it when she gives up the dungeon and lets falin go. absolutely the end.

i think thistle is another easy designation. he clings to control to the point it corrupts him, and he creates an environment that forbids death, but his desire is not for control and his fear is not of death or loss—those are delgal's. instead, his fear that he won't be able to measure up to the too-large too-heavy responsibility placed on his shoulders is what drives him, and because we know it drives him, we know that he takes it on anyway. he even brings melini underground. extremely the buried.

laios, meanwhile. is difficult for me to assign. his fears (rejection, ostracism, that he isn't able to connect with people, that he hates people) feel very lonely, and he does withdraw from people a fair amount, but he has connections he does not and would not choose to sever. you could make an argument for the hunt (he's drawn to not only monsters but the concept of the food chain itself and his place on it as a part of the natural world, and he ends the series with the object of his fascination out of his reach), but i don't think there's enough fear there. in laios' case, the lack of strict definition between fears and the idea that they're all just muddled subcategories of a singular thing is actually really helpful, because i think i'm assigning him to the vast. it was said at some point that the vast and the lonely aren't too dissimilar—you won't realize how alone you are without distance, and that sort of mental/emotional distance and disconnect is what has haunted laios his entire life. and i think that's, in part, what makes the cosmic insignificance of seeing yourself as just another part of your environment so comforting to him. his choices... definitely make him cosmically significant lmfao but even though he chooses to be the one to go up against Infinity Itself and its endless hunger and even though he chooses to be king, he fits himself right back into the position of being a single piece of a much larger puzzle. he became lord of the dungeon to become a part of the food chain that would stand a chance to preserve it (via eating the demon's hunger). he's king because there was a gap that needed to be filled. even then, he wants his body to be scattered after death, so that he can be devoured like any other living thing would be. god i love this manga. anyway, tentative but i think the vast is the only thing i can justify at this time. actually, accepting the hunger of the infinite could itself be seen as accepting the vast into himself…….

and finally, mithrun! surprising absolutely nobody given my take on his backstory, i'd give him to the lonely, with the caveat that he does eventually sever his connection to it. prior to becoming lord of a dungeon, we know he thought the worst of people (and again i think this was intentional of him), but we also know he put up a front that was undeniably kind. milsiril says that everyone loved him for the front, but its very existence acted as a barrier between himself and others: milsiril had no idea how miserable he was, and neither did anyone else. he'd already begun choosing isolation, and he chose it ultimately when he became lord of a dungeon, literally cutting himself off from everyone in a pocket dimension where he surrounded himself with facsimiles of people he loved until... they dwindled. and they did, until he was alone again, with only the demon and the unresponsive chimera construction of the person he considered to be the one he loved. after he was eaten, we see themes of emptiness typical of the lonely coupled with his disconnection from his team—in one of the extras it says they don't really know how to approach him, and i think it shows. so in a way, he ends up back where he started: surrounded by people who care about him and who he ostensibly cares about in return, but emotionally alone. as for fear, i think a lot of his are tied up in the concept of insignificance, but that insignificance isn't cosmic—it's personal. that's why watching himself be replaced was so unbearable for him and why the thought of being left unfinished was so horrific.

as an aside, i did also consider the corruption. the idea of leftovers abandoned carries the connotation of rot and i love the concept of 'the rot within you' etc. it gets me every time, and i think there's something to be said about that with regard to the way mithrun views the person he once was. furthermore, the... eating... scene... is framed as sexual and extremely invasive (and, as a result of the combination, is very evocative of disgust) in a way we see most often with the corruption (though imo tma would never see something like this as it toes the line of jonny's "no sexual trauma horror" rule too closely), and we have to remember that for all that it terrified mithrun, he was trying to get it to happen again. but i don't think disgust is enough of a factor for him. most of his disgust is aimed at himself, and while he doesn't shy away from it, he isn't really drawn to it either. rather, i think his dialogue in the extra comic in the complete edition of the adventurer's bible ("there's nothing so kind as a demon. suddenly losing that kind of love opens a hole in your heart[...]") goes a long way in terms of defining what being eaten meant to him. the corruption focuses on a feeling of belonging and community. mithrun wanted to disappear forever knowing that in the last moment he lived he was loved. ultimately, the fear of being abandoned coupled with his attraction to being unknown and eventually entirely gone read as lonely-aligned to me.

anyway i'd LOVE to hear where you're at with this please come chat literally whenever this is the most excited i’ve ever been about anything