#just let the cat go it can probably run faster than all of you and save itself lmfao

[nhaneh]

@idalenn kea may be smol but she is stronk!

So I have thoughts on miqo'te tails, yeah? Like I don't think they're directly prehensile - in fact I think the lore directly speaks against that possibility with occasional statements like "ain't that just the way the tail curls"? But given how miqo'te also canonically use their tails to help with balance and agility much like real world felines, those tails are inevitably going to have both mass and muscle to them.

Now sure, we're not talking arm wrestling muscle here - they are neither monkey tails nor elephant trunks, but they still have enough heft to be able to impart momentum? Let's look at a fairly well-known clip of a cheetah as an example.

During that sequence the cheetah goes from a left-leaning banked turn into a right-leaning banked turn, and then back to a left-leaning banked turn again, and in both cases it starts the transition by first shooting the tail out to the side and swinging it in a half-circle rotation in the opposite direction that it's rotating its body. By doing so, it's effectively using its tail as a reaction wheel, using its rotational momentum to help counter that imparted on its body, helping it maintain the stability and traction to stay upright rather than fall over on its side.

Let's take another example, this time of a leopard!

If you look closely, you can see how the tail starts shooting upwards just as the front paws push off from the ground, only to then swing downwards at the apex of the jump in order to impart just that little bit extra rotational momentum to keep pushing the pelvis upwards.

During high energy motion, the tail basically operates a bit like a counterweight, imparting both stability to keep upright as well as extra momentum to jump just a little bit higher, reach just a little bit further, turn just a little bit faster. And none of this is particularly exclusive to felines - you can look at pretty much any animal with a tail with enough size and mass to be used to aid in stability and you'll likely see much of the same kinds of motions and behaviour - it's ultimately much more a question of how physics work than how cats work.

Of course, this means that you could also easily imagine some miqo'te being notoriously clumsy and prone to falling over due to the motor control for their tail being a bit jank and often ending up doing the precise opposite, imparting instability rather than helping to keep them upright, or other awkward issues like their tails being prone to push chairs away from them when they try to sit down.

Thing is, too, most of our limb control is actually pretty automatic - it's usually pretty rare to find yourself directly thinking about where exactly each hand and foot and arm and leg is or what it is doing, you just do the thing without putting all that much thought or focus into it. In fact, one of the key aspects of proficiency in mechanical tasks, whether that is driving a car or typing on a keyboard or even just walking somewhere, is reaching the point where the actions become so much of a practiced routine that they no longer take up a notable amount of cognitive load. Most of the time, a tail would be just another limb running on autopilot - you might be able to physically direct it like you might an arm or a leg if you focus on it, but most of the time it'll just do what it does, whether that is to help maintain balance and stability, or to communicate and express yourself, or even randomly be a nuisance.

And I figure for most miqo'te, a lot of this is just things they learn pretty early during childhood without thinking about it or having to be taught how it works - it's like how you don't have to think about the righting reflex to help keep yourself upright, it just kicks in to do its thing.

Chances are there would probably also be certain kinds of quirks and habits you might see in some miqo'te depending on what kind of environment they're used to or were brought up in - a miqo'te that's used to cramped crowds might be much more likely to have an unconscious habit to keep their tails close to themselves, while one that's spent most of their lives in more open spaces with plenty of uncertain footing might instead have their tails move about more openly, never more than a twitch away from trying to counter a stumble or fall.

I realize this is a lot of paragraphs simply to say that yeah I definitely think Kea has a fair bit of strength in that tail of hers; underneath the floof it's nearly all bone and muscle, and likely takes up at least a couple of percent of her total body mass - quite possibly even comparable to that of an arm. It might not have the rigidity necessary to impart or resist force or impact the way an arm or a leg can, and I don't think it could support her full weight, but there's definitely some strength behind it.

[novadreii]

I've noticed that a lot of movies are baiting us with cute animals, usually by way of leveraging their safety by making us hate the bad guys (anyone who would kick a cute lil doggy) and root for the good guys (the ones who save the Doggo™). It started to ramp up with John Wick 10 years ago, and I've seen it a bunch of times since then. Most recently in the zillionth installment in the worn out and wrung dry A Quiet Place franchise with the entire plot revolving around saving a cat. Which like...I love cats. But as the plot of a movie? Cute I guess, but we can do a bit better. That can be the b plot, yknow?

It's like the movie execs are going Hahaha see, we know we can rage bait you into seeing this movie because you like pets more than you like each other. And you'll buy popcorn too, you butterfingered bitches.

[catboyieejeno]

gameboy :: p.js — one

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

[one] [two]

18+ minors do not interact!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sung? Sung!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What the fuck even was that? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shit, shit, shit. 

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

“Hello?” 

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

“Sung?” 

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

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

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

He hears you yawn and smiles fondly. 

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

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

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

God, no, he thinks.  

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

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

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

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

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

•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Could it be… No. No way. 

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

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

“Park Jisung?” 

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

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

“You’re welcome, Professor.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Will we be able to select our partners?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ

“She was obnoxious, you have no idea!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

I know! He thinks. 

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

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

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

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

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

“No!” Wow. Good going, Jisung.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How so?” 

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

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

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

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

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

•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yeah… he’ll think more on that later. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Like an e-date?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?” 

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

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

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

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

“I like you, too.” 

•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

ynn ᓚᘏᗢ: yesterday at 6:49PM

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

ynn ᓚᘏᗢ: yesterday at 8:22 PM

you’re so cute

i can barely think 

ynn ᓚᘏᗢ: yesterday at 9:14 PM

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

ynn ᓚᘏᗢ: yesterday at 10:58 PM

i should get to sleep 

but i don’t wanna stop texting you

ynn ᓚᘏᗢ: yesterday at 12:02 AM

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

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

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

“Your partner will be,” 

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

 “Lee Chan.” 

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

“Your constellation is-” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is this seat taken?” 

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

“No.” He replies shortly. 

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

“You’re Ji-sun, right?” 

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

“W-what?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Any of those work for me,” 

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

“Sure.” 

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

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

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

•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ

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

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

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

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

Feeling slightly more confident, he types up his message. 

To: 555-111-0205

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

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

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

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

“Hi-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, right.” Chenle scoffs. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Computer Lab 4C?” 

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

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

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

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

To: 555-111-0205

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jisung? You okay?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You live close by?” 

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

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

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

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

 “I’ll see you in class?” he asks. 

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

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

•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ

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

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

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

“Hi…” 

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

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

“I-thanks but,” 

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

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

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

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

•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“—then she’ll be there, too.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you know if Chaewon is here?” 

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

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

“Yo, what do you mean bounce?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mark, there’s so many girls here.” 

“I know, but—” 

“But Chaewon.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I told you I don’t wanna—Jisung?” 

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

“What are you doing out here?” 

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

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

“I’m fine—“ 

“This should help,” 

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

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

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

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

“How about the library?” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay,” you nod eagerly, “let’s go.” 

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

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

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

“Foul.” 

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

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

“I can tell. You’re stumbling.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you, Jisung.” 

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

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

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

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

“You okay?”

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

“Yeah, I’m almost done!”

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

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

“You’re Ji-sun, right?” 

“—Sung.”

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

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

Could it be… 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I knew it! I fucking knew it!” 

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

“Sung? Right? That’s you?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Since when did you know it was me?” 

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

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

“I was so excited when I found out,” 

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

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

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

“You’re really pretty in person.” 

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

“What’s that—” 

“Oh nothing! It’s just—” 

“Is that my cardigan?” 

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

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

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

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

“Jisung.” 

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

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

“I-” 

“Were you?” You ask sternly. 

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

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

“Show me.”

*. * ·

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

there are some users that couldn't be tagged, as tumblr did not recognize their accounts. sorry :((

[4pfsukuna]

Can you write a Terry one shot in which him and reader have a pregnancy scare? Like at one point the condom broke but they were both too into it to realize or stop. They're fwb and after it's revealed she isn't pregnant, they admit they have romantic feelings and maybe eventually having a family together wouldn't be a bad idea. Then jokingly Terry says let's go back to practicing lmao. I guess it's smut then angst and ends with fluff (or more smut if you like lmao)

ooh sistah you ate with this request, ngl i finished it 2 days ago but couldnt find your anon ask but here we go:

Debrief: Terry shows you hes a man in every sense of the word, from how he fucks to how he cares about you.

Hennessy was probably thee worst alcohol you could drink with terry. Now he was a military man and they can drink anybody under the table time and time again but something about the dark cognac turned him into an absolute monster that man wanted nothing more than to claim you on every surface from his apartment to yours across the hall. Your body was marked from neck to ankle in bites and hickeys Terry claiming that you were all his and making sure anybody that saw you knew.

“Show me its your baby” he moans with a fucked out expression as you ride his dick feeling full to the brim. His green eyes dark with lust as he watches you never dropping eye contact obsessed with the glossed over look in your eyes. 

“Come on baby girl you can do better than— fuck” he moans when you get up on your tip toes and tighten a hand around his throat yeah yall were both gone off the henny. The squelching sound getting louder as his thumb comes down to rub your clit and you swear you see his pupils turn into hearts at the sound.

“Tell me its mine and stop fucking playing with me” you snap riding faster as your own hand comes down to play with his balls that were already drenched in your juices and he smirks leaning forward so his forehead is against yours.

“Oooh feeling bold huh? You know better than talking to me like that” he threatens spanking your clit but it does that opposite and instead turns you up making you ride harder and faster pulling matching groans from the both of you. 

“This shit is mine” you moan out and it was suppose to be a statement but the way his tip was kissing your cervix you knew it was a loosing battle but he loved watching you fight back that turned him on more than anything.

“Earth to you bitch, clock back in and tell me what bathing suit you think i should wear” your bestfriend huffs snapping her fingers in your face and you playfully push her hand away before looking at the outfit options she had laid out on your bed. The same one that he had you laid out on. You couldnt even help the sex flashbacks it was just something about fucking that man that had your brain turn to mush even days later.

“Girl this shit is floss, if you dont pick out something in your actual size” you laugh holding up one of the thongs helping her get ready for her pool party that absolutely nobody was going to be swimming at. She shoots you a playful look as she snatches the bright pink bottoms from your hand.

“Let me just try it on and show you” she tells you before running back to the bathroom and you let your mind wander again leaning up against the vanity chair her makeup flat iron and hair tools splayed around. Your eyes catch yourself in your floor to ceiling mirror that you had him carry up a week ago when it finally came in the mail.

“Its yours! F-fuck dont stop baby dont nghhh dont stop” he moans his lips finding a empty spot on your neck to leave another hickey. His hand on your hip tightens as you throw your ass back on him matching his thrust like yall were trying to out fuck another you couldnt even tell how many times yall came let alone you did just that your legs were soaked down to your knees.

Watching him through the mirror you cant help but to admire how fine he looks as his head rolls back and his bottom lip is in between his teeth, from the way his abs clench to his muscles flexing when he raises his arm to take another shot from the bottle giving you the most demonic smirk. 

His left hand wraps around your neck pulling you up so your back is against his chest head tilted up squeezing your cheeks to open your mouth before spitting the shot in your mouth fucked out expression turning soft when he watches you swallow.

“Shit, its yours” he slurs kissing down your neck pushing your hand out the way so he could play with your clit himself. “And this is mine”

For yall to only be friends who fuck from time to time yall loved to play the possesion game. Marking another up, claiming another during sex even right now fucking without a condom was crazy.

“Shit youre so tight, just for me so fucking perfect” he starts rambling and you know hes close everytime he was he would start with his pussy drunk confessions and while it absolutely turned you on it also hurdled you into an orgasm. Your body was starting to feel weak, muscles aching and pussy sensitive. He lets out another groan when you clench your core basically Milking him.

“Fuck fuck fuck im bout to—“ he starts and the henny completely takes over like two evil little demons on your shoulder filling you with wicked whispers in your ears except the demon is you. Terry is confused when you twist in his arms and you're on your back until your legs wrap around his waist pulling him back into you. 

“You going to cum for me daddy? Your dick feels so good when you fuck me like this. Feel so full” oh and does that unlock something in him, you NEVER spoke like this. Atleast not by this point you were too fucked out and only able to let out high pitched whines and moans.

“You are so fucking fine i love watching you, love the way your skin feels against mine, love hearing you moan for me. Love your body” you moan as you fingers trail over his arms slowly pulling him closer watching the way his eyes roll back. Oh you were talking TALKING. He was so far gone he doesnt hear anything else only feels the tight warmth of you wetness and the consistant  thump of your thrust his head finding your shoulder.

Its only when your nails begin dragging down his back causing him to shudder a deeper thrust in you that has you fall just as far as he did and your legs tighten around his hips pulling him so much closer to you to whisper in his ear.

“Cum in me daddy”

“Ok im wearing this, i just wish you werent on your period so you could come with us tonight” your bestfriend returns with a bathing suit top jean shorts and heels. She definitely looked like a baddie—

Hold on, you werent on your period. Now that you think about it you were suppose to come on two days ago.

Oh fuck.

OOOOOH FUCK.

You don’t want your bestfriend to worry, or panic or miss out on the party especially since she spent so much time, effort and money so you nod with a fake pout but adjusting her bikini bottom straps to stick out the top of her shorts.

“If you have to represent us i need your foot on the hoes necks”

Standing in the cvs aisle you look at all the different pregnancy test, this was your fourth time in this aisle you had a different brand pregnancy test for each time you walked down already and a bottle of water. 

What you don't expect is to hear your name being called from behind you and you know that voice you know its the man who's very fault is the reason why you're in this aisle.

“Not right now, i'm not in the mood” you snap looking over the boxes again and again until he steps up behind you watching the nervousness build on you. Your hand was already shaking so any question he had died on his lips the moment he realized this was for you and not anybody else.

“So you wasn't going to call me?” He ask taking the four boxes from your hand and throwing it in his basket with the two boxes of condoms he originally came in for. That was a stupid question, you were already here with your own thoughts brewing of course you weren’t going to call him.

“Why didn’t you call me, you know we’re friends above anything” he tells you looking down at you and you avoid eye contact. That was why; yall was just friends… that fucked. You didn’t want to face reality with him and have that conversation. Didn’t want to do the whole coparenting thing never seen that for yourself you wanted a family not wanting a broken home. You were pro choice but— damn your thought process hadn’t even made it this far. 

You felt nauseous.

“Hey hey hey breathe for me, it's going to be okay. We're going to be okay” he promises, kissing your forehead and holding your face in his hands, his eyes flickering down to your lips so fast you swear you imagined it. 

“Let's just see what it says first okay?” And he waited for you to agree, pulling you into a safe hug, his natural cinnamon scent enveloping you and you never wanted to leave his arms. “Let's be where our feet are, no worrying about the future”

Biting your nails as you sit on the couch your feet tucked under you in silence as every single thought runs through your head of what the outcome is. Hoping for the best, prepare for the worst.

Terry sits next to you, arms resting behind his head and sits in silence as the two of you wait for results though unaware to you, the silence is killing him.

“Is this the part where we talk about baby names?” He asks not expecting your mean glare but it only makes him chuckle. He pulls your feet from under you and into his lap massaging your calves watching the way you physically relax.

“Terry this is serious, i'm scared” you finally admit biting at your nails only stopping when his large hands pull yours into his he looks like he’s about to confess but the timer goes off sending you flying to the Bathroom.

Negative.

Negative.

Inconclusive.

Negative.

“So are we having twins?” He ask coming around the corner looking at you through the mirror, just like he did last week and that's what got yall in this position in the first place. Wait, twins?

Hold on… We?!

You don't realize you spoke out loud until he begins speaking again eyes never leaving you.

“Yes we, i don't really think me being a single dad of twin girls would be easy so we” he tells you pulling your hand so he could see the negative results before looking back at your face. You are completely lost for words because what? Had he been hoping for positive results?  the fact that even if you wanted to bail he didn’t.

“You wanna be a girl dad?” You finally get out eyes lighting up and he chuckles at your expression picking you up, his muscles flexing up against you as he carries you out the bathroom back to the living room.

“Having 1 or 2 mini versions of you running around in a big yard with a nice house close enough to the city so they could go to a good school i'm thinking private school—“ he starts to ramble and you start to feel like the lady who has all the equations floating around her head because how did yall get here?

“Wait” you blink rapidly before looking up at him, a small smile coming to your lips even though you're still confused.

“I can't see you driving a minivan though maybe those bmw sedans in all black. They are not reliable cars but you a lil boujee so i’ll take care of it for yoh and you so fake stubborn but thats okay just one of the things that made me love you hopefully our daughters don't have that though and just come straight to me. You think they'll—“ his words are cut off when you place a hand over his mouth stopping him and his eyes drop down to your tiny figure in his lap.

Twins? Yard? Big house? Bmw coupe? Well that actually sounded nice? Wait he was speaking so fast your mind was a real soup sandwich after that.

“You love me?” You ask, face scrunched up, not just letting that slide by. You can feel his smirk under your hands and honestly you aren't ready to move them because you're scared for him to repeat that. Your insides were bursting, heart racing and breathing heavier— more nervous than before finding out the results of the pregnancy test.

He can tell you're trying to process and this may be one of the only times he ever shuts you up with his words. You had a slick tongue and never let him have the last word.

Pulling your hands down from his mouth so he can fully confess he holds your hands against his chest making sure to keep eye contact.

TWINS?!

“Yes, i love you” he kisses the back of your hands waiting for you to respond. Its not like he told you he just liked you or something nah love was a big thing and maybe it was his fault for this whole friends with benefits situation anyway but he wanted more. He wanted you. 

“You don't gotta say it back just yet but i would like to at least take you out on a date. If you couldn't tell i want you and everything that comes with you… whatever comes with you” Terry gives you that lopsided ass grin shocked when you press your lips against his but he wastes no time kissing back softly. His hands find your face as your lips move against another. Just another thing that turns you into a bigger puddle than you already were.

“Wait twins?” You pull back and he smiles at nothing laying back pulling you down to his chest using the throw on the back to pull over you so youre warm.

“Or 10, we can actually start practicing right now” he casually shrugs making you sit up grabbing his attention. 

“Im not pushing out ten fucking kids terry” you laugh laying back on his chest pushing your hands up his shirt to feel his warm skin choosing to purpousely ignore his comment about practicing now.

“Alright fine 6” he sucks his teeth as if he was the one that had to push out kids and you shoot him a playful glare.

“How we go from twins to 6, you was pushing it with twins” you laugh so hard your vision blurs from the tears building because he was funny as hell if he thought you were pushing out more than 3.

“So is that a no on twins?” He ask as if you can decide if you have twins or not, hes so hellbent on it though you start to actually consider the thought.

“I would like to be married and have a house first” You tell him realistically. Before you have kids you want to be stable and want to have somewhere to have them. Anything built on a rocky foundation is doomed to crumble and you wouldn't set your future let alone your kids up like that. They need a stable and loving environment.

“Silver or gold?” He ask referencing what type of ring you would like before taking note of the tennis chain On your neck with the matching anklet. He doesn't wait for your answer either… he already knew. Just like he knew you'd be confused by him asking that.

“You haven't figured it out by now that i'm crazy about you? You can have anything you want from me all you gotta do is ask”

“Tell me you love me again”

yall omfg imagine terry as a girl dad!! Of twins! Yall think he would be super overprotective and ready to kill or a pushover for them or both? Damn now i kinda wanna write him as a dad🥹

lmfao bitch imagine having a pregnancy scare and he keeps talking about having twins bro id deadass never get pass that

[advisorykitty]

Haii!! Can I request a Nyon x Reader x Nyen? Where Reader is a Catwomen who is very ditzy and airheaded. Also very sleepy. And Nyen and Nyon who surprisingly were warmed up to her (in their minds they have the same love for her like they do Luther) and they’re very possessive and obsessive. Maybe she manages to get out of the house and she’s approached by a stranger who won’t leave her alone. But she didn’t realize she was followed by Nyon and Nyen who didn’t like her leaving the house at all.

Caught in the middle nyonxreaderxnyon

The late afternoon sun bathed everything in a warm, sleepy glow, the kind that made you feel like curling up in a sunspot for a nap. Your tail swayed lazily behind you as you wandered down the street, half-awake, half-daydreaming. It wasn’t often you ventured out of Luther’s house—being a cat(wo)man meant you spent most of your time napping in cozy corners, pissing Nyen off when you had the chance, and taking constant duties from your master. Your soft [F/C] outfit a constant companion.

However, today you thought you'd try something new. Something had stirred your curiosity, and before you knew it, you were out, wandering the streets.Your (H/C) haircut—Luther’s idea, of course—framed your face perfectly, giving you that carefree, sleepy look he always said suited you. You liked it, though; it felt effortless, just like your life most days.

You were so lost in your own little world that you didn’t notice the man following you until he was right beside you.

“Hey there, beautiful,” his voice interrupted your thoughts, and you blinked, trying to focus on him through the haze of your sleepy brain.

“Huh?” you mumbled, your ears twitching slightly.

“I said, you look nice today. Maybe we could grab a coffee or something.” His grin was too wide, too eager, and it made you want to take a step back, though your slow brain didn’t quite catch up to your body.

“Oh... I don’t like coffee,” you said softly, still half-dazed. “I like [F/D] better.”

His smile faltered for a second but came back, this time with a hint of irritation. “Well, we can get [F/D] too. I don’t mind. C’mon, I’ll show you a good time.”

You blinked again, trying to process what he was saying. There was something off about him, but your brain was too foggy to figure out what. “Um... no thanks. I think I’ll just... go home.”

He chuckled, stepping closer. “Aw, don’t be like that. I’m just being friendly. Let’s go grab that [F/D]. You cosplaying?? I could get behind that, i know some forepl- .”

Before you could figure out how to respond, a low, angry voice cut through the air. “She said no, asshole.”

You turned, and there he was—Nyen, stepping out from behind you, like some pissed-off avenging cat. His eyes flashed with anger, and his whole body practically vibrated with tension. Nyon stood beside him, quieter but no less intimidating with his hat casting shadows over his eyes.

The man turned, looking Nyen up and down. “Who the fuck are you?”

Nyon didn’t even flinch, his Russian accent thick as he added, “You leave. No good for you here.”

The man’s confidence wavered, but he still tried to act tough. “She doesn’t need a babysitter. I’m just talking to her.”

Nyen’s lip curled in disgust. “Talking? Yeah, right. You were bothering her, dickhead.”

You blinked, your brain finally catching up to the situation. “He was?”

Nyon sighed softly, muttering something in Russian that you couldn’t understand but knew was probably an insult.

The man bristled, clearly feeling cornered. “Look, I was just being friendly.”

Nyen stepped forward, his fists clenched. “Friendly? You call that friendly? Get lost before I shove my boot so far up your ass, you’ll taste leather for a week.”

The stranger visibly paled, finally realizing he was out of his depth. With one last mumbled insult, he turned and walked off, much faster than he’d arrived.

You blinked again, looking up at Nyen. “Was he bothering me?”

Nyen groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Jesus Christ, are you that clueless? Yes, he was bothering you.”

You frowned, trying to piece it together. “Oh... I thought he was just being nice.”

Nyon shook his head, muttering more Russian under his breath. “Ты такая беспечная,” he said, though there was no real anger in his voice, just exasperation.

Nyen shot you a look that was equal parts annoyed and protective. “Look, you can’t just wander off like that. What if we hadn’t been here? You’d have been fucked.”

You yawned, rubbing your eyes lazily. “But I just wanted some fresh air…”

Nyon sighed, stepping closer and looking down at you with concern. “Air inside house... good too. You stay safe.”

Nyen grumbled, crossing his arms. “Next time you wanna go outside, tell us. We don’t like you being out here alone, not with creeps like that roaming around.”

You blinked, surprised by how serious they both were. “I didn’t mean to worry you... Sorry.”

Nyen sighed, his anger finally fading as he looked at you. “Just... don’t be so fucking dumb next time, alright?”

Nyon nodded in agreement, though his tone was much gentler. “You be careful. Always.”

You smiled sleepily, not really understanding the full weight of their concern but appreciating it nonetheless. “Okay... I’ll be more careful.”

Nyen rolled his eyes, though you could see a small smile tugging at his lips. “Sure you will.”

As you turned to head back home, Nyen and Nyon flanked you, sticking close like two overprotective—and ridiculously possessive—guards. You yawned again, oblivious to the fact that they were still radiating a mix of irritation and fierce protectiveness. You didn’t fully grasp just how serious they were about keeping you safe.

“Well, that was exciting,” you mumbled sleepily, blinking at Nyen. “I didn’t know people could be so... persistent.”

Nyen huffed, clearly still annoyed. “Persistent? That guy was a total creep. If we hadn’t shown up, who knows what that asshole would’ve tried next. Probably would’ve dragged you off for your damn [F/D] without even asking.”

Nyon nodded seriously. “Да. Bad man. You not see it. You too... airheaded.”

You gave a lazy grin, still half-drifting in your own little world. “I guess I’m just too friendly for my own good, huh?”

Nyen groaned, rubbing his face in frustration. “Too friendly? No, you’re just too fucking clueless. Friendly gets you into trouble when you don’t realize some dickhead’s trying to hit on you. We can’t always be around to bail your ass out, y’know.”

Nyon added in his thick accent, “Is why you stay close. Safe inside. Outside is... shit.” He seemed satisfied with his choice of words.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound soft and airy. “You two are acting like I’m some kind of... kitten or something.”

Nyen shot you a deadpan look. “Kitten? Try more like a dumbass wandering into traffic. You don’t have a fucking clue what’s going on half the time.”

Nyon nodded, ever serious. “Yes. Like kitten. But... dumb kitten.”

You blinked, your tail twitching behind you. “A dumb kitten?”

Nyen smirked. “Yeah. A dumb kitten with no idea she’s in danger until someone’s about to kick her ass. That’s you.”

You pouted, your ears drooping. “I’m not that bad…”

“Yeah? You thought that jackass back there was just being ‘friendly,’” Nyen said, making air quotes. “Meanwhile, he’s about two seconds away from getting his teeth knocked in.”

Nyon grinned, a rare flash of amusement lighting his face. “Yes. Would’ve been... bad for him. Very bad.”

You sighed dramatically, rubbing your temples. “Okay, okay, I get it. You’re both my bodyguards now. I’ll tell you next time I want to leave the house. Happy?”

Nyen shook his head, but a grin tugged at his lips. “Bodyguards? Nah. More like babysitters for a kitten who’s got no idea how much trouble she’s in half the time.”

Nyon snickered. “Yes. Babysitters. For dumb kitten.”

You groaned, rolling your eyes. “You two are impossible.”

Nyen smirked, slinging an arm around your shoulder. “Nah, we’re just the only thing keeping you from wandering off into more shit. You’re lucky we care enough to stick around.”

Nyon nodded seriously. “Very lucky.”

As the three of you made your way home, you couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “I’m not that much of a dumbass…”

Nyen chuckled darkly. “Sure. Keep telling yourself that, kitten.”

Nyon grinned, his broken English only making his point more cutting. “We watch over you... because you too... dumb for world.”

You sighed, shaking your head. “I’m never gonna live this down, am I?”

Nyen laughed. “Not a fucking chance, kitten. Not a fucking chance.”

[fuctacles]

thank you guys for pitching in for my bday goal on ko-fi, it means a lot to me <3

<< eleven | 😺 | thirteen >>

Eddie walks up the stairs faster than he should, and has to even out his breathing just like the first time. He barely knocks on the door before it opens, but he did say he'll be up shortly. 

"Come in." Steph moves to the side to let him inside. Her hair is down now, and she's changed her jeans to a pair of sweatpants, looking soft and domestic. Having no idea what it does to Eddie's heart. 

He rolls on the balls of his feet awkwardly, and spots Dart, blinking at him from his perch on the back of the couch. Steph picks up a small white bottle from the coffee table, and he focuses attention back on her. 

"This is a leave-in, so after washing your hair and drying it with a towel, you rub a bit in your palms," she explains. "And like, rub it into your hair?" She frowns, nose scrunching adorably. "Like this." Steph hands him the bottle before showing the motion on her own hair. "And focus on the ends, maybe up to here." Gently pulling on a strand of Eddie's hair, she points to about half of its length. "Then you can let it air dry. It should help with the dry ends," she finishes off, absentmindedly running her hand through his curls. 

He hopes it's a him thing, and not just a hair thing. 

"Questions?" she asks, her eyebrows raising. Unfortunately, she seems to register her movements too, and drops her hand to curl it around her waist. Fortunately, it accentuates her breasts.

Eddie shakes his head. 

"But, Wayne ordered me to keep you company before you go mad from talking to cats." He raises his hands when her eyes squint. "His words, not mine. I think he's just tired of me and wants me to bother someone else for a change. Which," oh no, he's rambling, but it's too late to stop it. "I'm not imposing myself on you, I can go grab some cigarettes from the convenience store. You had a long day at work, you must be tired. Of me, too."

His hand squeezes tighter around the bottle of conditioner. Steph's eyebrows are arched and unimpressed.

"Which one of those was a question?"

Right. Eddie licks his lips, and her eyes follow.

"May I keep you company on this fine evening?" he asks. 

"You may," she accepts with a courteous nod and a small smile. Unfolding her arms, she turns to the kitchen, the last bits of tension seeping out. "Beer? Tea?"

"In your presence, milady, simple rain water will suffice." He presses his lips together. It's either rambling or nerdiness, when he's nervous. Usually both. 

Steph only shrugs, one hand on the fridge handle as she looks at him expectantly. 

"I just ran out, you have to pick something else."

"Beer, please." He smiles, relieved she's playing along. 

She uncaps two beers for them and takes a look through her cupboards. 

"I'd offer you a snack, but... all I have is popcorn. Do you want popcorn?" She looks over her shoulder at him. 

"Salt or butter?"

"I have both."

"Salt, then. Don't like my hands greasy."

He doesn't like his hands greasy in the presence of a fine lady, that is. 

While they watch the bag spin in the microwave, Eddie lets his mouth spit out what's been on his mind for the past couple of hours.

"Wayne's cast is going off this Thursday."

"It's been long enough," she nods thoughtfully. "Will he be able to walk?"

"With a crutch, yeah, but he won't be needing me anymore." He picks at the label on his beer. "So I'll be going back to Indy next week. Or this weekend."

"Ah, that's a pity. We just met." She pouts. 

The microwave dings, Steph pops it open and the smell of popcorn fills the kitchen. Eddie isn't sure if her words were genuine or just a pleasantry, but she doesn't seem like pleasantries kind of person.

They move to the living room, at least one pair of cat eyes watching them curiously. Dart is still in his spot on the couch and doesn't move a muscle when they sit down. 

"When are you visiting next?" she asks, popping a kernel into her mouth. "Thanksgiving?" 

"Probably," he says, even though it wasn't his plan. He was going to wait Thanksgiving out and stay a day or two longer for the Christmas break. But if Steph was in any way interested in him, it would be worth the gas money and time spent behind the wheel. "Do you have any plans?"

Steph tucks her legs up on the couch, gets comfortable. The bowl of popcorn rests between them and Eddie can't wait for it to be gone. 

"I'd usually go with Robin to see her parents, but I'm trying to wrap up on the salon thing. I want to tell Joyce before the year ends, maybe look at places in Indiana starting in January."

Eddie raises his eyebrows. 

"I thought it was a more distant thing."

"Me too," she sighs. "But I'm probably just scared of change, and making it sound like more work than it is."

"Uh, I think opening a salon in a new city is a lot of work," Eddie points out, leaning forward to face her better. "And moving? It's a lot. But hey," he adds quickly, noticing that she has shrunk on herself. "I'll help however I can. Give you a couch to sleep on while you're looking for the perfect place."

She snorts.

"Thanks, I might take you up on that."

It would be weird, having Steph in his small bachelor apartment that he shares with a friend. But the idea sounds too alluring not to let it run his imagination for a second. Maybe she won't have anything to sleep in and Eddie would have to lend her a t-shirt. Something unmistakably Eddie-ish, like a brand telling everyone else to back off. 

"I could show you around, too. I know the best pizza and Chinese places and which cafe's to avoid," he offers.

She cocks her head, watching him with a smile, the small but visible lines in the corners of her eyes crinkling. 

"Planning a date already?"

Eddie's eyes widen. He kind of was.

But Steph doesn't seem repulsed, she's smiling at him with amusement, completely relaxed on her couch, beer in hand. So he shoots his shot. 

"I hope I'll get a few before then," he admits, looking her in the eyes, straight into her soul.

She hums, the smile still present but somehow turning sour. 

"When? You're leaving in a few days."

"That's a few days worth of dates," he counters. 

"You're gonna sweep me off my feet and leave? That's not nice," she points out.

"I—" Eddie frowns. "Yeah, I know," he deflates. Steph's right, he already feels insane and it would get only worse if he got a proper taste. 

She twists in her seat, feet landing on the carpet. He turns with a sigh, ready to be kicked out. He can always try next time, right?

tags: @wheneverfeasible @steddieinthesun @hattsy-likes-pretty-stuff @bumblebeecuttlefishes @phantomcat94

@tartarusknight  @tinyplanet95 @steddiefication @estrellami-1 @disrespectedgoatman

@madigoround @tartarusknight @blasvemous @cryptid-system @hiei-harringtonmunson

@hellowhatthehellisgoingonhere @dreamercec @manliest-of-muppets

@bookbinderbitch @marklee-blackmore @icecat

[rumble-aint-a-rumble-without-me]

hi! can i ask for how the boys would be/react to you playing with their hair? (if you haven’t already) like doing braids or pony tails and using them like those mannequin heads lmao, thank you :)

A/N: I honestly can’t believe I haven’t written something like this, this is such a sweet and wholesome idea, thanks so much for dropping it in Nonny <3

DARRY CURTIS

Darry usually keeps his hair pretty short so there’s a limited amount of things you can do with it

For clarifying purposes, Darry’s hair is short by greaser standards so it’s still kind of long, especially up front and at the back of his neck

It’s totally long enough for you to put a few small braids in, maybe a few of those goofy little ponytails-

He likes to leave your braids in his hair for as long as he can, so his brothers have called him out for having these tiny little braids in his hair 

Either way, Darry really likes having your hands in his hair, especially after a long day of hard work! He really just needs to relax

You playing with his hair is probably his favorite way to decompress, he could sit for hours and just let you toil away

 SODAPOP CURTIS

You get the chance to run your hands through those silky golden strands of his? God, I’m so jealous

Sodapop purrs like a cat whenever you play with his hair, it’s like one of his favorite things

It’s to the point where Soda will sit down in front of you and manually place your hands into his hair, he lives for physical displays of affection

Sodapop is immensely proud of whatever you do to his hair! He leaves the braids until he has to take them out and will show them off to Steve

Also? Sodapop wants to play with your hair, it’s his way of paying you back for doing his hair!

Teach him how to braid and I promise you, Sodapop will get so good at doing it because he wants you to look good-     

 PONYBOY CURTIS

Is a little hesitant at first? He sort of tenses up the first time you slide your hands through his hair

Personally, I recommend trying to do his hair when there isn’t any grease in there because we all know this boy slathers his hair in grease, grease makes pretty styles stay in place but it also is going to affect the softness of his hair

Ponyboy, upon realizing how much you like playing with his hair, starts going without grease a little more often <3

He likes the looks of braids and will sit very still when you want to braid his hair, Pony’s very patient and usually has pretty long hair

And ponytails for Ponyboy? If you don’t make that joke, you’re missing a golden opportunity 

Scratch at his scalp while your at it, give him like a mini massage and he just melts into your touch, putty in your hands while you play with his hair  

DALLAS WINSTON

Nothing, and I mean nothing, can calm Dally down faster than you having your hands in his hair

If he’s in a mood, just sort of reach and brush the hair out of his face, tucking it back behind his ears and out of the way of his eyes

Dally starts to loosen up, the tension in his shoulders slowly bleeding out until there’s no aggression left over

He’s got shorter hair? But it’s kind of tufty and usually pretty free of grease so you’ve got a few things you can do, definitely just recommend running your hands through it though- 

Leaving braids and ponytails in his hair is a big no-no, but don’t be upset when he’s taking them out! He looks so focused when he tries to undo them, it’s super cute

Plus, he’ll let you do them again later! No stress doll-face, Dally’ll be back later and you can re-do his hair then

JOHNNY CADE

Johnny’s hair is long and thick, but it’s heavily coated in grease like all the time, so you might wanna just ask him if he could like, not grease it one day-

He’s got bangs guys and if you were to work like a few tiny braids into his bangs, it’d be the cutest thing

Having your hands in his hair is really calming for Johnny? Like you don’t even have to be doing anything, you could just be mindlessly running your fingers through it

Johnnycake likes to watch you while you do his hair so expect his dark eyes to be following the movements of your fingers or trained on your face while you work

Dallas like to gently rib him for having leftover braids in his hair from you, Steve joins in sometimes, but Johnny just shrugs them off, they really don’t bother him

He makes sure to give you a gentle kiss as a way to say thank you every time you do his hair  

TWO-BIT MATHEWS

You mentioned mannequin heads and if that isn’t an accurate depiction of Two-Bit here, I don’t know what else is-

He’s got longer hair, probably one of the longest in the gang, which means you’ve got tons to work with

Your only problem will come from the fact that he tends to have a lot of grease in his hair though, it’s simple to solve, just ask him not to! He’s pretty accommodating <3

It’ll be totally easy to work that front piece into a braid or pull his hair up into some sort of pigtail-

If you involve his sister in the process, the three of you can spend hours just doing and undoing Two-Bit’s hair and fashioning it into tons of different styles 

His mom comes home to find the three of you in her living room, Two-Bit sitting cross-legged on the floor with his sister in his lap and you behind him, the two of you pulling Two-Bit’s hair up into different ponytails 

STEVE RANDLE

Steve is very protective of his hair, specifically the swirls he spends all of his time working on

They take a super long time to grease into place and he isn’t too keen on people messing them up all the time-

But when it’s you? After a long day? Just let him take a shower first baby doll, he wants all the grease out so you can do whatever you want

Run your hands through his hair, tug gently and scratch at his scalp as you comb your fingers through his hair again and again

The sides are kind of short, but the top is kind of long so you could probably fit a few braids in there or a few ponytails if you wanted <3

Steve’s fine to sit through whatever you want to do, he could fall asleep with your hands in his hair, that’s how relaxing it is for him

TIM SHEPARD

Big Bad Tim Shepard falling apart the second you push your hand through his hair, toying gently with the strands

There is not a thought behind those pretty blue eyes of his when you get your hands in his hair and start to play with it

You can put braids and little ponytails in it if you want to baby but Tim’s not going to go out with them in his hair, it’s bad enough to walk around the house with them-

That sounds really mean but I’m saying it in the sense that Curly and Angela like to tug at the braids when he leaves them in and in an effort not to kill his siblings, Tim doesn’t leave them in for long

When he’s feeling cheeky, he’ll catch your hand before you can put it through his hair and scatter a few kisses over your palm before letting you go

Tim’s got a huge thing for compliments? And I mean that both in a he-has-trouble-accepting-them way and a he-desperately-seeks-out-the-validation, so any comments about how pretty his hair is, how pretty he is, make him melt  

CURLY SHEPARD

Once more, if you’re not playing with his hair, you’re missing out on one of the best experiences of your life-

Have you seen those thick curls? The inky black of his hair and the soft way it tumbles through his fingers when he pushes it back out of his face?

My boy is absolutely gorgeous and he wants nothing more than to have your fingers combing through his hair while he does everything

I’m not even kidding, use it to encourage him, like while he’s working on homework, slowly work on braiding his curls while helping him through the math problems

Curly has fallen asleep on your chest while you’re playing with his hair, mindless running your fingers through the strands, wrapping his curls around your fingers

Tim likes to ruffle his hair a lot, something Curly hates and glares at him for while trying to fix his hair, but god if he doesn’t just melt when you do it, smiling brighter than the sun and leaning into your touch

[koolades-world]

i saw the cat and corvid mc ones and i wanna see dog-like mc so bad, like one whos very loyal, loves cuddling with loved ones, if they had a tail and one of the gang came home itd be faster than a helicopter i think, if they see anyone with food theyd just come up to them with their puppy dog eyes, they just lounge around in random spots nearby the characters or even lays their head/body on them. sometimes theyll be playing with something and be possessive over it and a "Whats that in your mouth" situation comes in and they run away taking random stuff they found lying around the HoL, maybe theyre also rly playful and love playfighting and stuff like tug of war

thats just a few things that come off the top of my head lol how the mc is like is up to you, sorry if theres too much or doesnt make sense! xoxo

haha hi!!! yes of course!

this is such a fun idea. i may or may not have based this reader off my goofy goober of a dog. she's so sweet but sometimes i wonder if theres even a single thought in that head of hers haha

enjoy <3

Dog-like Mc

Lucifer

getting lock out of his bedroom always proceeds as such: being sad that you're locked out, sitting sadly in front of the door and scratching at it, lucifer feeling bad and eventually letting you in so you can sit on his bed and ruin the freshly made sheets lol

rinse and repeat the cycle nightly

the puppy dog eyes work very well on him

since he handles his brothers so often, he's good at getting you to listen when you're off in lala land or something along those lines

Mammon

he himself is kinda dog like, so the two of you get along pretty well

both of you would follow the other to the worlds end <33

you probably steal his sunglasses from time to time and he has to hunt you down to get them back, just because when he said “drop it” you accepted that as a challenge lol

the only difference in the two of you, however, is that you’re much more open with how you feel and will not hesitate to admit that you love him even if it flustered him haha

Levi

he's a little wary of having you in his room

he has lots of valuables that he treasures and while he's a little afraid you'll steal and or mess something up, he genuinely cares about you and is willing to get past that

however he did need a day away from you after you drooled on his Ruri pillow haha

after he got to know you better, he really appreciated always having an outgoing buddy to go out in public with someone that wasn't one of his brothers

Satan

sitting with him while he reads!! randomly laying your head in his lap <3

you always check out what's in his mug while he reads despite the fact that it never changes (it's always tea) but maybe one day it'll be something delicious, like chips haha

he's wary of taking you into a cat cafe, but surprisingly, all the cats love you!

now he's questioning if he's really a cat, or if he's a dog person lol

Asmo

you let him do any kind of skincare and treatments he wants on you

and he thinks it's great! until he sees you at the end of the day and it kinda looks like you swam in a mud puddle

he's not going to be the one to subject you to a bath so he always shoos you off and tells you to go clean up before you can get something else done (my dog hates water lol)

if he's ever missing one of his rather tasty smelling skincare products or a brush, or something like that, he just opens a bag of chips and summons you + beel (see below lol)

Beel

please the amount of food you're getting from him

those puppy dog eyes work so well and he can't help but give in every single time

both of you come running every time someone opens a chip bag even if it's on the other side of the house haha. if the others have issues finding you, that's how they do it quick and easy

every meal of yours is eaten together, of course

Belphie

the realest cat and dog dynamic ever!

please there's no way you're not jumping on his bed just for fun while he's sleeping in it. he's convinced it's to annoy him but it's just you being incredible oblivious and wanting to have fun

you guys are best friends. i don't make the rules haha

when you do want to nap with him, however, it's the best nap you've ever had and is probably a very cute pic

[lale-txt]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄, 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃 (𝐊𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐨 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫) ❦ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟎𝟏: 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐲

♫ Sleeping At Last - Two

I don't even know where to start // Already tired of trying to recall // When it all fell apart // I just want to love you, to love you

word count: 3.2k

⭅ back to m.list

Kuroo moves in the next day.

Or at least that is when she puts his name up on the doorbell and the mailbox. He stands next to her when she does, their shoulders almost brushing and the keys to his new place jingling in his palm. Before that, he watched her type up his name on an old typewriter and she gave him a slightly disgruntled look when he asked why she’s not doing it on the computer. 

“It’s faster this way, believe me,” she muttered and then sent him off to go feed Jiji as if that’s something he’d done countless times before. Like he belonged here already. Backoffice, top shelf, the tuna one. Half a can is enough. Don’t let his big round eyes fool you. (He did, in fact, let the cat’s big round eyes fool him.)

Yesterday, after he viewed the apartment, she told him to sleep on it for a night to see if he really wanted it or if it was just the whim of a moment. Kuroo wanted to protest, but he figured she had a point. It’s been a day for him–a burst water pipe in his old apartment, almost getting hit by a car on his way to work, the one comment by his boss that made him write his resignation letter while he was still in the meeting–all before noon.

On top of that it’s been pouring all day, too. Of course it was. 

He knew he had to get out of here. The buzzing heart of downtown Tokyo didn’t excite him anymore, it drained him, scared him. The monotony and the loneliness, the anonymity and the coldness of the people around him. It’s like he couldn’t breathe anymore. He left the office on autopilot and walked to the closest station, took the next train out of the city and just got off somewhere in the outskirts of town, an area which's name he only read on the map before. 

It was all intuition that brought him here. Maybe the stubborn refusal that this was his life. There must be more to it, right? There had to.

Kuroo was tired. He had been tired for a very long time. 

After walking out of the station he rented a bike, earning himself a slightly concerned glance from the shop owner (because surely he must have looked like someone on the verge of a nervous breakdown) and started exploring the neighborhood in the pouring rain. Because it was either this or going back to suffocating in his shoebox of an apartment. An easy choice. 

Calm. That’s how he felt while he explored these narrow streets, all sounds of the world muffled by the pitter patter and his own huffs and puffs while he pedaled. It was kind of freeing, feeling the rain on his skin and the clear air in his lungs. As if he could really breathe for the first time in ages.

All buildings here were much smaller than the big skyscrapers in Tokyo, and it was greener, despite autumn being around the corner. There were a lot of local shops, none of the usual chains with the same clothes and the same food you see in Shibuya, no–stores that still had a soul. He passed by a flower shop where he saw the owner arranging a beautiful bouquet, a record store that blasted early 2000s J-Rock, and eventually stopped by a sandwich shop to grab himself a bite.

While he waited for his order, he spotted the flyer in the window.

It broke all rules of good graphic design but somehow that only made it more endearing. Someone slapped half a dozen different Wordarts on one page, printed it out, then apparently added more handwritten notes–in a really messy handwriting on top of that–to it and afterwards made a few low-quality copies at the local copy shop on a printer that’s running on ink from the past century probably.

Kuroo was intrigued by it.

>> Apartment for rent >> 3 rooms + kitchen + bath + backyard >> comes with a cat (Jiji. you have to get along) >> everything’s a little broken (the cat is not. however he is the reason for it at times) >> more info at The Heirloom (open monday-saturday; 10am-6pm or just knock)

The flyer also contained a photo of said cat, or at least traces of it–due to the poor quality and the presumably black fur of Jiji all that could be seen were two small orbs in a void. When he tried looking up the address of the store mentioned, he didn’t get any results which made him wonder if the flyer was as ancient as it seemed. The shop staff who handed him his order noticed his confusion and shook their heads and laughed, then kindly explained that the data online probably wasn’t up to date since the owner preferred to do things the old school way. They drew him a small map on a napkin that would lead him there, to The Heirloom.

On his way there he wondered what kind of person the owner was like. Someone elderly maybe? Or was he just biased because in his head an antique shop had to be run by someone who was at least 300 years old? At least the people in the sandwich shop all smiled at the mention of the shop owner, one of them the girl from the flower shop he passed by earlier. Each of them had something nice to say which he took as a good sign.

Oh, she bought the broken necklace I inherited from my mother, said she could give it a new life. I spent my entire uni years at her shop, the book collection there is endless. It’s impossible to leave without buying something, right? Yesterday I saw a girl walking out with three vases and two bags dangling from her arms, really got the full Heirloom experience it seems. 

All Kuroo had was a name, the crumpled flyer in the pocket of his shirt and the gut feeling that they were destined to meet.

The first thing he noticed when he reached the store was the sign above the door, faded letters and the coating of them peeling a little, but it only seemed to add to the overall charm. It was an antique store after all. The entire building seemed a little older than the rest of the street and from what he could tell through the fogged up shop windows, the inside glowed warm and welcoming, even more on a rainy day like this. The old door bell announces his visit when he takes the first step into his new future. 

He’s overwhelmed by the masses of antiques, some of them stacked up to the ceiling. There’s bookshelves that look as if they’re about to collapse at any moment and at the same time as if they’ve been built to last a thousand years, possibly longer. Ailes leading in the depths of the store, like a maze you could get easily lost in. There’s a bit of everything–furniture from various decades, racks with vintage clothing of all kinds, porcelain in every shape and color possible, vinyls and cassettes, paintings in all sizes, vintage rugs stacked over each other… never has he experienced a place like this before.

A cat rubbing against his legs draws him back into reality. Jiji, he remembers from the flyer, and then another pair of footsteps shifts his attention towards the direction they were coming from.

Kuroo is a goner the moment he sees her.

He heard about the phrase before, to have one's breath taken away, but to feel it quite literally happen to him–that was something he hasn’t experienced before. With the flyer clutched in one hand all he can do is stand there, starstruck and drenched to the bones, a small puddle forming at his feet. He’s smiling like a fool and barely registers what she’s saying, too distracted by the drumming sound of his heartbeat in his ears.

Not only is she beautiful–she also radiates the aura of an old soul, someone who has experienced life in all its glory and gory. It’s as if she can see right through him the moment their eyes meet, see everything that shaped him into the person standing in front of her today. The almost painful tug in his chest is impossible to ignore, as if his soul wants to stumble towards her. He finds himself yearning to bask in her light, even if it was just for a fleeting moment. 

“Hi, I’m here for the vacant apartment?”, is all he can stammer out, but he might as well have gotten on one knee and asked if she had been his beloved wife in a past life.

And so he moves in the next day. 

Due to her connections in the neighborhood Kuroo is able to borrow a truck from the nearby flower store–Calla Lily, she and the owner are close friends, he learned–and move his few belongings from his old apartment to the one above The Heirloom. 

It wasn’t a lot to begin with: A futon, a few boxes with clothes and one filled with memories, the old rocking chair he got from his sister when he moved out for college and a few pots and pans, some of them still in their original packaging. The kitchen in his old apartment had been tiny and most of the time he’d been too tired to use it anyway. He lived off conbini food and whatever lunch the cafeteria at his job offered. 

By the end of the day, Kuroo sits down on the wooden floor of his new apartment, surrounded by the remains of his old life in moving boxes. A strange feeling blooms in his chest, something between exhaustion and satisfaction. It’s like everything is slowly falling into place, the universe making room for him to finally grasp the life he’d been craving the whole time. 

He could just curl up here on the floor and sleep for three days, he thinks, when a knock at the door interrupts his trail of thoughts. 

“Come in,” he calls out and rises to his feet again, brushing a bit of dust off his old jeans–first time he wore these again after spending the past couple of years in a three-piece suit most of the time. 

The door was only left ajar and pushed open slowly. First in is Jiji who hastily rubs against Kuroo’s legs before he struts off to explore the boxes and new scents of the apartment; second is her, lingering in the doorframe, not as brazen as her cat. She smiles brightly when she sees him and holds up a basket for him.

“Thought you might be hungry after today,” she says and lifts up the cloth, revealing an old stoneware pot that radiated a heavenly smell and one half of a sourdough bread. It smells freshly baked. “It’s stew. Old family recipe. Nothing exciting, but hearty, something to warm you up. Since you got soaked yesterday, you know? Don’t want you to catch a cold in the long run.”

Kuroo is a little too baffled and a little too moved to speak, and when he takes the basket from her, her attention drifts to Jiji who is in the middle of claiming Kuroo’s rocking chair as his new favorite spot. She clicks her tongue and looks back at Kuroo apologetically.

“This cat, I swear. You can just kick him out if he gets on your nerves, though I can’t promise that he’ll weasel his way back inside when you blink,” she sighs and Kuroo shakes his head and laughs. 

“I really don’t mind. Honestly it’s nice to have a cat around again. Used to have one when I was a kid,” he says and reaches for his phone in the pocket of his jeans. He taps the screen a few times before handing the phone to her. She takes it from him like it’s something alien or a bomb that could go off any second, but her face relaxes when she sees the photo of his childhood cat. It was an old calico named Kiki they adopted shortly after his parents divorced, his father’s poor attempt to make him feel a little less lonely. 

He steals glances at her while she swipes clumsily through the gallery, her tongue poking out a little from between her lips. It was endearing to watch. 

“You were a really cute kid,” she snickers after her third attempt to zoom into a photo of him napping in the garden with Kiki on his chest. “Same hair, too.”

Kuroo puts the heavy basket down on the kitchen countertop and looks back at her over his shoulder with a smirk.

“Were? What, am I not cute anymore? You wound me”, he quips back and she looks up from the screen with the most serious face, a small frown across it even. 

“I did not say that. Obviously you still are very cute,” she replies bluntly, and the words hang in the air for a few seconds until it dawns on both of them that they’ve been flirting just now and neither of them knew what to do with this realization. Kuroo busies himself with lifting up the lid of the stoneware pot while she puts his phone down on the kitchen table to grab Jiji from the rocking chair instead.

“That’s a beautiful chair you got here,” she says and breaks the awkward silence that was about to settle between them, and Kuroo feels a small wave of relief wash over him. He would have hated it if their first night as neighbors was off to a bad start. When he turns around again, her hands are running over the wood, her gaze focused with a hint of admiration. He had a feeling she would really like this rocking chair. Not that he had pictured her in it or anything, with a book across her lap and wearing one of his sweaters. Surely not. 

“Right? It’s a bit worn out and broken, but I guess I don’t have to tell you of all people that it’s not a bad thing,” he replies, a little quieter now. His gaze softens when she looks back at him and smiles. 

“These are my favorite kind of things actually.”

Jiji is hanging over her shoulder while she inspects the rattan lining and Kuroo thinks he could spend hours just watching her. Every movement of hers is done with care; from her fingers tracing the grain pattern to her eyes racking over the small notch in one of the armrests. He can tell that she’s already thinking about how to kindle his chair without taking away its charm from the past. 

It’s what she does apparently, fixing things that have been loved for a long time. Breathing new life into them while acknowledging their past. 

“Do you want to eat together?”, he asks, rubbing the back of his neck. He catches her gaze and neither of them looks away. “It… I’d really like it if we could eat together. Neighbor.”

"Neighbor," she echoes and mirrors the smile that’s forming on his lips. Kuroo isn’t sure if he’s imagining it, but he can see a flicker of relief wash over her, as if she had waited a very long time for someone to ask her for a shared dinner. 

Kuroo swallows, his throat feeling a little tight all of sudden, and tries to distract himself. Dinner. It dawns on him that he has never had anyone over for dinner ever since he moved out. How does that even work? You’re supposed to set out plates and glasses and…? 

“Uh. Don’t laugh but I don’t have any cutlery,” he admits with a small sheepish smile while his head rattles a hundred miles per hour. All of sudden he was feeling nervous. Who at his age doesn’t own cutlery? Someone who doesn’t have his life together. Kuroo could quite feel the self-deprecating thoughts crawling up his spine. 

Uncool. He felt so damn uncool. 

Only when she touches his arm does he snap out of it, looking back at her and remembering how to breathe again. She smiles up at him and something inside of Kuroo unravels, making him feel present again. 

“Boy, do I know the store for you,” she laughs and it’s like a hundred suns are rising all at once. 

There is something magical about walking the aisles of The Heirloom after dark, hours after the store had closed its doors. In the dim lights, Kuroo follows her around in wonder. She seems to have memorized every single trinket here, which shelf it rested in and what’s the story behind it. He could listen to her for hours without ever getting tired, he realizes. 

They came down here for cutlery, and while Kuroo was rummaging around the sets she had, she appeared behind him again with a stack of plates and some tea towels made from linen cloth, one corner embroidered with a trio of small mice dancing together. Isn’t it silly, she laughed and showed it to him, and Kuroo could feel his heart stumble against his ribcage from the sound of it. 

“Very silly. I love them,” he agreed. They put all the things they gathered on the counter and Kuroo pats the backpocket of his jeans for his wallet. She stops him right there by reaching for his hand and holding it in hers, shaking her head. 

“Don’t even think about paying any of this,” she says with a small roll of her eyes, but she’s laughing while she does. She’s also still holding his hand, and Kuroo can’t help but brush a thumb over her knuckle. “It’s a welcoming gift, alright? So this place will feel like home to you a little quicker.”

She squeezes his hand and Kuroo squeezes back, knowing there was no use in protesting. He’ll think of something else to make up for her kindness. There’s many things he wants to say at this moment, but the words just won’t come out, which is strange, because usually he was very good at them–just not in her proximity, it seems. 

Not letting go of his hand, she tugs him behind her, gesturing to him to follow her to the back of the store again.

“Come, I need to show you a rug that I think would be perfect for your living room,” she says with a smile. “I also have some heavy wool blankets you can put on your rocking chair until I fix the rattan lining for you. I think Jiji would love that, too.” The cat meows at the mention of his name and follows them like a shadow. 

They spend over an hour unrolling every other rug and in the end Kuroo picks three of them, because according to her you can never have too many rugs and Kuroo thinks he’s a rug person now. Maybe he’s also falling a little bit in love with her, or maybe it’s just the warm light that makes her look angelic, and her calm voice narrating all the stories of people who have once loved, a piece of them kept alive by not forgetting them in the walls of this store. 

Kuroo wonders if one day someone will tell their story with the same gentleness; their love, preserved.

a/n: serving you the lale special - the down bad (and soon to be lovesick) man. really my favorite genre of men. calla lily is the flower shop from wyr's love's nectar and the poor girl mentioned who left the heirloom with three vases and more trinkets is y/n from ellie's homemade love! the kuroocember trilogy holding hands all the way through.

✰ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓:

@staygoldsquatchling02 @gigiiiiislife @kameyyy @grassbutneo @kentocalls

@jellychannie @starry-magicshop @anonymity-222 @rriwyu @loveyislost

@stargirllost @fushiguruuzzzz @boosyboo9206 @wyrcan @nekozaki

taglist open! fill out this form to be added (or removed, no hard feelings ♡)! minors DNI!

[cemetarywoman]

ok heres a lil silly hamzah request but could u write something abt reader and hamzah going on a double date with mandy and martin, idkk im bad at this :00

I hope you dont mind if i do headcannons!! Im so unbelievably nervous to post this I WILL KMS IF HE EVER SEES THIS

Double date headcanons with Hamzah

(+Martin and Mandy😇)

-you are gonna have to pry those camo pants out of that boys hands if you want him to wear something nice to the date🙏

-he spends so long doing his hair before you leave JUST TO PUT A DAMN HAT ON THE SECOND HE WALKS OUT THE DOOR

-if you guys are carpooling to the date then you and Mandy would sit in the back together

-(because Martin and Hamzah wanted to sit by each other 💀)

-but they let you guys pick the music so its ok!!🤗

-Hamzah likes to try and make everything a (playful) competition with because he likes being the “better couple”

-“babe lets run ahead of them so we can beat them to the door” then bro runs away giggling 😭

-yall probably go to a ice cream shop or something fun like roller skating

-I JUST KNOW HAMZAH AND MARTIN PROBABLY FUCKING SUCK AT SKATING LMFAO

-you’d have to hold onto Hamzah the whole time so he doesn’t fall (he eventually falls anyways and you go down with him😰)

-you and mandy are better off leaving them to struggle together and just go have fun on your own💀

-martin get taken out by some 5 year old who was skating 10X faster than he ever could 🤕🙏

-after that you all would probably go back to Mandy and Martins house to watch a movie and order some food

-Hamzah lays with his head on your shoulder and pets whichever one of Martins cats is on your lap awww

-and I can totally see him falling asleep like that too

-if yall are asleep for a long time then Mandy and Martin eventually just leave you there to sleep for the night😭

-you wake up in the middle of the night with him COMPLETELY on top of you and hes still passed tf out

[goldtheorys]

Jeff the killer general + relationship headcanons

_I did Jeff headcanons before but they were ass, so here’s my second attempt.

══════════════════ -`♡´-

General 🩶

Veeeeery reclusive

He’s thin and agile, even if he’s literally just standing in a room staring at the wall, lost in thought, he’ll hide or slip out of the room when he hears someone coming in easily

He doesn’t even really mean to, but it’s just some instinct that kicks in he doesn’t bother to fight

Doesn’t like people all that much anyways, so he’ll do what he can to avoid everyone

Loneliness isn’t the loveliest feeling though

Occasionally he’ll go find one of the other creeps, awkwardly ask them a simple question

I see a lot of stuff where he’s really loud and obnoxious, also a total jerk, and although I agree, his whole life went to shit pretty early on

So he lacks social skills, he barely knows how to take care of himself, and doesn’t have good emotional control

Of course he has outbursts, he doesn’t know how to make friends, he thinks because he’s so damn amazing everyone who “acts” like they hate him just wants to be him

But it begins to get to him after awhile, never having someone

He is sort of friends with Ben, but it flip flops from fun and easygoing to strained and frustrating

Survives on randomly selected energy drinks, beer and junk food alone

Cannot cook, cannot remember what a warm meal tastes like

Has a lot of energy, so when he can’t find anyone to bother, he goes on walks

Mostly during night to help hide his face, but because of that it’s pretty enjoyable

Wears a mask too so he can grab some food before finding whatever abandoned park he can, sitting on the swing set while he eats

Prefers the colder months

I’m not sure I wanna add he has smile dog as a pet on my version of him… but he is a big dog person. Runs into a stray every now and again and spends maybe a solid hour just petting and talking to it

He kills when he feels overwhelmed, but regrets it from all the guilt after

Sleeps a lot to try and forget about everything

Relationship

══════════════════ 🤍

You two probably met in a rather absurd way

Maybe it was the classic you both just murdered someone and found eachother, dripping with a stranger’s blood

Or he walked into your home at random, surprised and intrigued by your lack of fear

(you were just too tired to give a fuck)

He’s real rude at first, calling you names, making fun of basically the way you breathe or walk, trying to poke and prod for a weak point

If you tough it out and keep being kind or neutral towards him, eventually he’ll stop and slide into a weird mood of observing you

It’s like his eyes never leave you for a second, and it gets real creepy

He studies your movements, your face, your words, your mannerisms

You’re still here despite his lack of…maturity at the beginning

Even if it’s a little begrudgingly, you’ve let him stay

It’s weird and he can’t help but question if it’s some scheme to hurt or kill him

But he’ll be damned if he misses the chance to have the first genuine human connection he’s had in years

Kind of follows you like a cat when he can

Like to watch you from his own spot in the room, occasionally piping up to say whatever comes to his mind

And, it would take a bit longer, but eventually he warms up to being more affectionate, rather than the previous friendly coexisting

Doesn’t show it, might even scowl at you for being quote unquote cringe, but adores when you compliment him. About his beauty, his talents, his intelligence, he wants it all

But what he really adores is your touch

Late nights in, watching some show while he lies on top of you

Your nails running up and down his back, occasionally tangling into his hair to twist and brush it makes his heart beat faster than any night when he’s drenched in sweat and blood

He’ll still refuse to show that kind of weakness in front of anyone else, but when it’s just him and you, he’s pathetic for your attention and affection

Likes to hold you from behind, tracing every curve, every scar, every inch of your skin he can reach

Dangerously possessive

You’re the first good thing that’s happened to him in a long while, he cannot stand even the thought of you being ripped away from him

And as I said before, he doesn’t have the greatest control of his feelings

Instead of voicing his fears or concerns, he lashes out at you, especially if he knows you’ve been spending time with someone else

Tries to force you to stay by his side, threatens to harm you if you dare to leave

But once he calms down, he leaves, and your left scratching your head wondering why he had done all of that

He’ll come back when you’re asleep, watching you as he traces shapes onto your arm

He’s so fucking scared you’re gonna realize how truly shitty of a person he is

Wakes you up, wrapping you into a hug as soon as your blearily blink your eyes open

He won’t apologize, he’s still a bit of a narcissist, but you can feel it in the way he clings to you in the darkness of the room

You’ll cuddle him to sleep, and wake up in the morning to him acting like nothing has happened

══════════════════ -`♡´-

_ughhh still don’t rlly like this it is SO messy, but also idc lol. Hope my version of him is enjoyable… might work on nsfw headcanons next, but I’m kind of just going with whatever right now. requests open, and sorry for my previous inactivity (⇀‸↼‶)

[candycandy00]

Can you just do your general nsfw headcanons for the jjk men?

Sure! These are very unorganized though, sorry! Just my random NSFW opinions about them!

Gojo Satoru:

First of all, he’s very good at sex. It’s canon that he’s good at anything he tries so this is provable fact. He’s very tall so it’s likely that he’s well endowed. 

He has a huge ego, which can be good and bad. He’s confident in his performance in the bedroom because, well, of course he is. And confidence is definitely sexy. But at the same time, he’s going to be a bit too full of himself. This can get annoying. He’s going to know exactly how to push all your buttons and get you riled up, which is going to make him the worst tease in existence. 

All of this is why I think he would be kinda mean in the bedroom. A bit of an asshole. But a very charming one so good luck resisting him. He knows he’s gorgeous. He knows he can satisfy you better than anyone else. So he’s going to use that to his advantage. I see him being the type to get really turned on by making you beg. I also see him having just a little bit of a degradation kink. He’ll throw in some insults or mock you for being so desperate for his dick (don’t let him fool you, he wants you as bad as you want him but he’ll never let it show).  

The fastest way to turn him on is to stroke his ego. Telling him he’s too big, he won’t fit, it hurts, etc. while also still begging for it will absolutely send him to the moon. The thought that you want him in you so badly, even if it hurts, gets him riled up faster than anything else. And once he’s in there, letting him know how deep he’s hitting, how he’s stretching you, will drive him wild. 

He has one major weakness though. No matter how mean or taunting he can get, deep down, he’s actually a pretty nice guy overall and genuinely cares about you and your feelings. So if he thinks he took things even one step too far or actually hurt you for real (physically or emotionally), he would feel terrible. He would suddenly turn into the sweetest boyfriend ever, being super affectionate and gentle, until he felt sure that he was forgiven and things were cool between you two. 

As for his sexual history, I think he hooked up with a lot of people when he first got out of high school. I mean people were already throwing themselves at him when he was still pretty young, so what do you think a hot young man is going to do? But I think he slowed down a lot as he got a little older. The random hookups started to leave him feeling empty. He probably starting having them to begin with because he was lonely after his split from Geto. It was just an enjoyable way to not feel alone for a little while. But gradually, the loneliness crept in faster and faster. So he decided to stop hooking up until he met someone he could have an emotional connection to. 

Geto Suguru:

I feel like Geto would be a very generous lover. He would definitely prioritize your pleasure, getting most of his own through watching you become a shuddering mess beneath him. 

He’s extremely good at performing oral sex. His tongue would be amazing. And he enjoys it more than anything else. Expect to climax several times, in a row, each time the two of you are intimate. 

Outside the bedroom, he’s very respectful and kind to you. He’s raising two young daughters, he wants to show them how they should be treated by a partner. But this respect and care crosses over to the bedroom too. He makes sure you’re satisfied and well pleased. 

When it comes to pleasing him, his hair is practically an erogenous zone for him. Run your fingers through it to hear him purr like a cat. Grab it, pull it, play with it, whatever. He loves it. When he’s making love, he prefers extremely intimate, deep, deliberate motions. He likes to take things slow so the two of you can just enjoy the feel of each other’s bodies. 

Is a firm believer that sex isn’t just for physical pleasure, but is a way to be closer to the person you love. For that reason, he’s had way fewer sexual partners than someone like Gojo or Toji, but the encounters he’s had have been way more meaningful. 

Sukuna:

Do you really want to know what gets this guy off? 

DO YOU? 

No sugar coating here, Sukuna is a monster. He enjoys suffering. He loves hurting people. He probably doesn’t give a shit about his partner’s pleasure. Or their consent. Or keeping them alive. It’s stated in the series that he “lives according to his pleasure”. So I can’t see him holding back if he saw someone he wanted. In his first scene alone, he specifically mentions women twice. Once asking “Where are the people? Where are the women?”while grinning maniacally. I think it’s pretty clear what the implication was there. He also implies that he would do something unsavory to Nobara if he took control. This was probably just his way of being a menace to Yuji, but the fact that he implied it at all says a lot about him. 

So yeah, all this to say I think he had his way with a lot of women when he was alive, probably killing them afterwards (which would explain why he has no descendants).  

As for his kinks? Oh Lord, there’s probably a long list and they’re all probably nightmarish. He’s probably into pain/torture/blood/humiliation/degradation/etc.  Anything to be cruel. He’s a cannibal so he definitely wouldn’t mind drinking a little blood and would probably be into biting. He’s just the walking personification of all the worst porn categories. 

But! He is actually capable of treating someone well if he likes them. We see this in how he treats Uraume (laughing and joking with them, forgiving their mistakes, just generally being nice to them). And how did Uraume earn a place at Sukuna’s side? By providing a service that Sukuna valued (cooking tasty human meat). So if he were to meet someone who really blew his mind in the bedroom, it’s possible that he would value them enough to keep them around. 

If that were to happen, he’d probably be a lot less of a nightmare in bed. He’d still have his kinks, but he would actually want to keep you alive, so he would tone it down to keep from damaging you too much. I also think he would start pleasuring you on purpose if he cared about you. He would enjoy knowing he could drive you wild with just a touch. Like Gojo, he has a massive ego. He’s also narcissistic and domineering. So while he would still prioritize his own pleasure, he would definitely see the charm in watching you come completely undone only for him. He’d still be very forceful and very rough. 

Nanami Kento:

Didn’t know he had a daddy kink until you accidentally called him daddy in bed. At that moment, something snapped into place for him, and he never looked back. 

Is lightly authoritative in bed, mainly because he knows it turns you on so much. Often uses “good girl” or “bad girl”. Engages in some light spanking, with his hand or his belt, but never actually hurts you and it’s something the two of you have thoroughly discussed and agreed upon. 

He usually guides every encounter. He’s used to being in charge. But you like it because you get to relax and let him do all the planning. Outside the bedroom, you have a totally normal relationship that a lot of people might even call dull, but inside the bedroom? You can both get quite kinky. 

Nanami will sometimes engage in teacher/student role play. You pull on your old high school uniform, which you’ve made a few alterations to in order to make it more sexy, and he has a monumental struggle trying to keep his self control. 

Speaking of his self control, it’s pretty strong. But if you tease him too much, he will absolutely have you bent over his lap, alternating between spanking you with his open palm and pleasuring you with his fingers. He’s very good with his hands. 

Fushiguro Toji:

Is a horn dog. It’s been told in the manga that he went “from woman to woman”, so he definitely got around. I think he’d definitely be into random hookups. But if he formed an emotional connection with you, as he did with Megumi’s mom, he would be faithful to you. 

Has a size kink, definitely. He is HUNG. 

Is very proud of his stamina. He can go for several rounds in a row. He’ll exhaust you, but you’ll definitely end up blissed out and very satisfied. 

Can be very soft and gentle or very rough, depending on the mood. He likes both. He’s also open to most kinks you’d want to try. He’s there for a good time, not to be judgemental. However, he would probably get a little bored or annoyed if there was a lot of prep involved. Wanna role play and throw on some costumes? Sure! But if you have to put a lot of time into converting the bedroom into a particular setting, he will lose interest. 

Probably not the best at aftercare. After he’s satisfied the both of you, he’s falling asleep and probably expecting breakfast in the morning. He’s not picky about what it is though so if you just give him some toast he’s cool with it. 

Enjoys showering together. He’s not the least bit shy about being naked (with that body, can you blame him?) and would think you’re being silly if you acted shy. 

Choso: 

Of all the guys, he’s probably the most shy and subby. He’s also the mostly likely to be a virgin. Not a huge shock considering it’s not been that long since he was incarnated into a human body. 

Choso would be a very sweet and devoted lover. Once he started to view you as family (in a spousal way), he would literally do anything to make you happy. That extends to the bedroom, where he would learn all the things you like just so he can please you. 

Contrary to what some people think, calling him “onii-chan” or “big brother” would not excite him. It would probably be the fastest way to kill his boner. He takes his role as a big brother very seriously, so putting yourself into that context would just make him uncomfortable. 

Doesn’t have many specific kinks but his absolute favorite thing is receiving blowjobs. Seeing you get on your knees in front of him gets him so excited he can barely breathe. He still can’t believe someone like you would work so hard to pleasure someone like him, but he gets mesmerized when he’s watching you suck his dick. 

Definitely the soft type. You’d have a hard time getting him to go rough because he’d be afraid of hurting you, and that’s the last thing he wants. But over time, you could probably convince him to try more spicy activities once you’re both very comfortable with each other. 

[randofics]

🎶 David Kushner- Skin and Bones

🎶 David Kushner- Dead Man

🎶 The Neighborhood- Sweater Weather

---------------------------------

You let out a breath, watching as it fogged in the cold November air and held your arms around you to keep warm as you waited for Sideswipe. Your back muscles were killing you after hunching over to grab boxes off the floor at work. All you wanted to do was lay in bed for the rest of the night.

Bright white headlights made you shield your eyes as he came to a stop in the empty lane of parking spaces. The gullwing passenger door opened for you, and sorely, you sat in the seat.

"Thanks for picking me up, Sides. I owe you one."

"Hey, I didn't have anything better to do. How was work?"

"Ugh, don't get me started."

"That bad, huh?" He watches you through his rearview mirror as you struggle to get comfortable. "Something wrong with my seat?"

"No, my back is practically screaming at me. I just need to lay in bed and relax. A massage would probably help, too, but I can't afford an appointment at the moment."

"My hood is still warm from the sun earlier. Maybe laying across it would help. I've heard that heat can help relax muscles."

"You hear that on TV?"

"I happened to catch it on one of the channels." A small smile twitches at your lips.

"I suppose it wouldn't hurt."

-------

After pulling into the junkyard, you hop out attempting futility to pop your sore back as you massage your muscles. "Where is everyone?"

"Oh, Strong-arm is on patrol with Bumblebee, and Denny took Russel, Fixit, and Grimlock out to watch the city parade from the hilltop."

"I forgot that was happening tonight. I'm glad Russel gets to see it. He seemed so excited about it this morning."

"How about we go back to my quarters and watch some TV?"

"Sure. You said I could use your hood, remember?"

"You think I forgot? How dare you!" His faux offense made you laugh as you trailed behind him. He bowed as he held the makeshift door open for you, and you shook your head at his antics. Taking the remote, you turned on the TV quickly, flipping through the channels to one that never failed to interest you. Animal world was on, and a re-run of the leopard episode was playing.

"Alright, transform so I can warm up my back. It's freaking chilly." He chuckles, rolling his optics as he transforms. You lay back on his hood, being careful not to scratch his paint. Almost immediately, the warmth of his metal seeps through the fabric to your skin. Your body relaxing as the warmth soakes down to your bones.

You stay like that for a little while, but the heat slowly fades, and your muscles are left sore. Rolling over onto your stomach, you let out an annoyed groan.

Sides' chuckle catches your attention. "That leopard has the same idea as you." Glancing back at the screen, you see a leopard sunning itself on a dark rock. The big cat looks content, all sprawled out like that. A small smile comes to your face before you stand, letting out a pained hiss as your muscles take on your weight again.

"Still sore?"

You nod, twisting your back in another futile attempt at popping it. He transforms, crouching down behind you. "Can you lift me under my arms so I can pop my back?"

His servos wrap around you under your arms, lifting you a foot off the ground as you let your body go limp. Your spine crackles as the vertebrae decompress, releasing some of your tension. After he sets you down, you test out your spine. The pain of your muscles is still present, but any spinal pain is pretty much gone.

"You want me to give you a massage?"

You're a bit surprised at his question. Did he really just ask you that? Did he even know what that insinuated or even how to properly do it? Your mouth moved faster than your brain.

"That would be great!"

Why'd you have to say that!? Now you had to go through with it! You kicked yourself as you made your way back to your camper. He transformed again, parking just outside the door as you walked in. His holoform followed you to the "bedroom" of the small mobile space. There were only two lights, one for the living/kitchen and another for the tiny bathroom, leaving the bed dimly illuminated.

You removed your hoodie, tossing it to the side as you sat on the edge of the mattress. "So, how are we doing this?"

"Lie down on your stomach, and I'll sit beside you."

Once you're in position, he sits cross-legged next to you. "Do you mind if I lift your shirt?" Shaking your head as best you can against the pillow in your arms, you take a calming breath. The cool air hits your skin as he lifts the hem of your shirt. When his holoform didgets touch your skin, a chill runs up your spine. Goosebumps form all along your body as he maps out your back.

Soon, he starts adding pressure to his touch. It's light at first like he's afraid he'll hurt you, but slowly, he gets heavier with his hands. Your sore muscles slowly feel much better as your pleasure senses take over. Heat spreads through your body.

-------

When a small sound escapes your throat, he pauses. "Not hurting you, am I?" Your voice is small as you answer.

"No, I'm fine."

He continues, pressing into the muscles of your lower back, eliciting another sound. This time, he keeps moving, listening for the little sounds you let out.

When he places his fingers over your love handles and presses in the backsides with his thumbs a much louder sound escapes you.

You attempt in vain to smother the sounds with the pillow. Muscles quiver under his fingers, and curiosity gets the better of him. Gently, he grazes his fingers across the front of your abdomen and love handles, making you squirm a little.

With a bright blush on your face, you turn to look at him. "What are you doing, Sides?"

"Um... sorry, I got distracted. What's up with that reaction?"

"It's... my abdomen is sensitive, ok I can't help it when you touch me like that."

"Right here?" He tilts his head like a confused puppy as he grips your hip again, letting his thumb graze under the hem of your jeans.

"Yes! So don't do that." A mischievous glint in his eye makes your heart skip a beat. "I'm not sure what you're thinking, but you probably shouldn't go through with it."

"What? I'm not thinking anything." You feel his thumb again as you grip his wrist, his other hand cupping your side squeezing gently. Suddenly, he lifts your shirt to your lower ribs and pulls the hem of your jeans down an inch. Your eyes widen as a gasp escapes your throat. His lips make contact with the v of your abdomen.

Blood rushes to your face as you bite down lightly on your knuckle. Your other hand tangles in his dyed red hair. While the feeling itself isn't overly pleasurable, the act is extremely erotic. His eyes connect with your half lidded ones as his teeth nip your skin. He places another kiss there before moving up slowly over your stomach, giving you light pecks and nips all the way to just under your sternum.

When he pauses, you look down at him quizzically. In one swift motion, he pulls you up into his lap, making you yelp. Instantly, his lips are on your neck. You melt into him, wrapping your arms around him and tangling your fingers in his hair.

-------

He can feel your breathing quicken with the rapid beating of your heart. His spark pulses faster with his own excitement. Your scent, taste, and fingers in his hair overwhelm his holoform senses. Your skin, though littered with natural bumps for the most part, is silky soft. And your plush flesh feels amazing in his hands.

Your small gasps float into his audials through the holoform, and they sound heavenly.

-------

You feel his hands on your back, one massaging your muscles while the other glides over your skin, slipping under the back of your bra. Without warning, his lips connect with yours. He's surprisingly good at it, considering it was probably his first time. You didn't even know if cybertronians kissed at all. Your head was swimming with his intensity, not that you minded much.

Lightly, you scratched at his upper back, legs locked tight around his waist. As far as you were concerned, you could do this till your heart gave out, but fate wouldn't even let it come close to that.

There was a knock on your camper door, making Sideswipe turn his head to look. Russell's voice broke through the silence. "Hey, Y/N, Sideswipe! You guys in there? Come watch the parade you're about to miss the best part!"

In a poof of pixelated glowing particles, the warm body you were wrapped around was gone, and you fell back on your mattress. You lay there for a second, arms splayed above your head as you let out an annoyed groan. You loved Russel, but he had the absolute worst timing sometimes.

Sitting up, you could still feel his hands on you, and the feeling of his lips lingered as you walked to your door.

Outside, Bumblebee stood with his usual cross arm stance. Sideswipe was still in his alt mode in the same spot as before. There was a barely noticeable quake in your steps as Bee eyed you. Your hair was ruffled, and red marks were starting to form on your neck and jaw. Your face was still red from the blood rush, and you were acting a tad nervous.

When you lightly kicked Sideswipes tire, annoyance evident on your face he put two and two together.

-------

"Hey, what was that for!?"

"You know darn well what that was for!"

"It's not like I had any other options!"

"Yeah, you did! You could've faced it like a man instead of turnin' tail and running!"

Russel looked confused at the whole exchange but took your hand, dragging you behind him to the hilltop. When you got there, Denny handed you a blanket, which you gladly wrapped around you. Fireworks cracked in the air as the end of the parade was driving down the street below.

The nose of Sideswipes alt pressed into your rear, making another blush come to your face. You glanced around, making sure no one had seen that before turning your head to look at him. With a small hop, you sat on his hood, crossing your dangling feet.

When the parade ended and everyone was going back to the junkyard, you and Sideswipe stayed put. Hopping off his hood, you stood with your arms crossed.

"What?" Moving closer with an expression he wasn't familiar with, slight intimidation makes him roll backward. "Wh-what are you doing!?"

"Continuing what you started." Your hips sway as you follow him, backing him all the way almost into a tree. "Holoform, please."

Under your expectant gaze, he produces his holoform. He looks as nervous as you'd expected.

Pushing him into his driver's side door, you press your body against him. He sucks in a breath, his eyes flickering from your eyes, lips, and chest pressing into his. "Like what you see, darlin?"

You hear him gulp as he forces his eyes closed. He makes the mistake of tilting his head up, giving you the perfect opening to ghost your lips across his synthetic skin and whisper in his ear. "Not so cocky now, are ya?"

When he looks back down at you in surprise, you press your lips against his. His hands shakily grab your hips as he bends down for you. As you continue to kiss, the two of you are none the wiser to a pair of optics watching you.

Bee, with a knowing smile on his faceplate, chuckles, shaking his head. He walks back into the junkyard, leaving the two of you be.

[softfem-dom]

just thinking about having to break a fight between the dog!hybrid outsiders and cat!hybrid bob.

It was late at night, the moon shining up in the sky. It was cold inside the house, but a hoodie or a sweater would keep the chill away from your boys' bodies. You were in the kitchen with Darry, putting out the groceries you had bought earlier and left forgotten inside the bags on the table. The big German Sephered was helping you stock the —four different types of— cereals boxes on the cabinets while you were simply hiding the just bought cans of beer behind the vedgetables inside the fridge so Bob or Dallas wouldn't take them.

It was calm, Two-Bit and Soda were watching the mickey mouse program on the TV. Ponyboy and Johnny were in your bedroom, just reading your books —and going through your drawers but what you didn't know wouldn't hurt you—. Darry was with you, Bob was sleeping like the lazy bitch he was and Dallas and Steve were arm wrestling on the coffee table.

Or so you thought.

While you were putting the bananas inside the fridge, Soda came in with that nervous twitchy smile of his that always signaled something was going or about to go wrong.

"Soda" Darry warned, slowly turning to look at his brother with a quirked eyebrow.

Soda just gulped nervously, almost comically adjusting the collar of his shirt as he mumbled something way too low and fast for you to hear. "what?" you asked, confusion on your features as you slowly closed the door of the fridge. Sensing you were about to have to intervene in something.

"Dallas and Steve are barking at Bob about the time when he almost drowned him on the fountain" the Golden Retriever all-but blurted out. Words and 's' slurred into one another.

"shit"

You were quickly walking over to the living room, opening the door with a rushed haste to your movements. You knew that Dallas was a damn Canary Mastiff, he was both a stray and a hunting dog. A hound dog. And he had the fangs and fists to prove it. You couldn't risk Dallas getting violent on Bob and potentially sending the —not so—poor Ragdoll cat to the hospital.

,,

You walked into both Dallas and Steve snarling at Bob, and the smug shit wasn't doing much to put the situation on his favour. Dallas had Bob pinned to the floor, his hands balled into fists over the cat's shoulders. Baring his teeth at him, while Steve was next to Dallas with his arms crossed.

"you know what dogs are?" Bob spat, a shit eating grin on his face. The little bitch was way too over confident on this.

Dallas growled, Steve's right eye twiching, while Bob laid on the ground with that smirk of his. —the one you sometimes got the urge to slap off of his face—.

"dirty mutts with behavioural issues"

You saw Dallas raising a fist, one that was going to end directly on Bob's face and probably break his nose, but you were faster. In the time the three of them were glaring at each other you had strided over, and had managed to get a grip under Bob's arms fast enough to pull him up from the ground and away from Dallas' fist —that ended up hitting the floor—.

"Doll—! what the fuck?" Dallas hissed, shaking his fist with a slight wince. Both angry and annoyed at you for letting his fist hit the floor.

"stop it, no cussing" you scolded with a frown at both Dallas and Steve, who was rolling his eyes at you, as you readjusted Bob in your arms.

The cat happyly, and smugly, curled up into your arms. His tail curled around your leg, wrapping around the skin of your thigh, as he rested his chin on your shoulder. "suck my dick" the cat smugly flashed a shit eating grin at both dogs. But you were quick to tug on his ear with a frown.

"that goes for you too, mr. I run my mouth way more than necessary" you scolded again, this time to the cat in your arms, who only huffed and rolled his eyes at Dallas' "hah! fuck you"

"you're both grounded."

"what!?!? but doll—!" "the fuck? I am the victim in this situation!"

[stay-corner]

im crying. jisung wearing a choker with a heart shaped tag on it. i need him so bad.

–🐿💕

warnings: nsfw, minors do not read! unprotected sex, creampie, hanji wears cat ears and a choker but they don't come into play much, he's desperate and horny and whiny and that's exactly how i like my men, he sucks on your fingers, u choke him, he cries, all that. he passes out a bit but he's fine. overstimulation ig? idk it's also pretty nasty and sweaty

word count: 1.1k words

a/n: hanji anon it has been almost two years since you cried in my inbox about jisung wearing a heart choker and i don't know if you're still around but i'll let you know the recent bow choker jisung incident made me let out an honest to god whimper. so here's a nasty drabble involving jisung, a bow choker with a heart shaped tag on it, and cat ears. jesus take the wheel

[05:31 am - han jisung]

"faster, faster, fuck," he chants in a desperate tone, hands slipping quickly from your hips to your thighs and back up, restless and greedy as he grips your flesh, nails digging in and squeezing painfully. all you can do is moan, whimpers stuck in your throat as you piston your hips on top of his own, legs quivering from both extertion and his needy pawing.

"i'm going... as fast as... i can, ji..." squeezes through your constricted throat between pants, jaw slack and eyes barely keeping open. jisung's so hard and thick for you, you want to throw your head back and fall prey to the enjoyment, but the image of him fucked out underneath you, cheeks flushed, pretty black choker resting on his neck, frilly bow and shiny heart glinting back at you, and the cat ears clumsily clipped in his hair... god, you couldn't have mustered a more erotic image even if you tried your hardest.

jisung bucks his hips up into yours at just the right time, the impact hitting a new angle that makes you keen and pulls an open sob out of him, head lurching off the pillow from the pleasure as his eyes squeeze shut. "oh, you're sopping wet, fuck... fuck..." jisung whines, his high voice reminiscent of the harmonious high notes he hits in the recording booth, now distorted with lust and want and desperation. "please, please, faster, wanna cum so bad," he runs his mouth stupid, brain shut off, and you feel your lungs burning.

"ji, you're so... fucking... insatiable..." you groan back at him, eyebrows furrowing because you're positive that you can't physically go any faster than you're going right now, the sound of smacking skin and wet squelches and unabashed moaning bouncing off the walls of jisung's bedroom. you already forgot how many times either of you came so far, brains gradually turning to mush the longer you pleasured each other, until you were reduced to the mindless animals bucking into each other now, fucking like rabbits.

one of jisung's hands moves down, brushes your clit in its pursuit of rubbing against his pelvis and your thighs, fingers becoming drenched in the mix of both of your slick and cum. he lets out an almost pained sound at the feeling, gaze watching how the substance webs between his spread fingers, and he almost grows cross eyed at the sight, head falling defeated on the pillow.

"that word's too big for me..." he remembers to respond, fingers returning to grab at your body, wherever you'd let him. "it's so sloppy, fuck, i'm... so numb, but it's so good... fuck... make me cum, make me cum," jisung rambles on and on, eyes squeezing and head thrashing from side to side, messing with the ears in his hair, choker straining at his neck. you think it's on a bit tight, but jisung probably likes it. it might leave a small mark, and you clench at the thought.

jisung is still wailing for you, the filter between his mouth and mind nonexistent, and before you think, one of your hands lifts from his toned, sweaty chest, up to his mouth, two of your fingers slipping in effortlessly. jisung responds with muscle memory, jaw falling slack and body relaxing, lids finally lifting as he shows you his beautiful doe eyes, growing glassier by the second. his hands don't flex painfully into your flesh anymore, fingers letting go as he begins rubbing over your torso and legs, mouth alternating between tongueing your fingers and sucking on them.

"that's it.. pretty and brainless for me, ji, hm?" you huff down at him, tone sweeter, sticky and soft for him. it's hypnotic to him - jisung thinks you'll be the death of him, and he's fine with it. "you're fucked stupid, baby," you add, and one of his hands runs over your tummy, catching onto your bellybutton before it descends further, soaked thumb making contact with your aching clit. it's gentle - even in his fucked-out state, jisung knows how to touch you, knows you're sensitive, knows this is enough to make you tighten around him, make your toes curl.

his other hand slips off your thigh, rubbing up his own torso, over his soft tummy, over his raised chest, and finally finds your fingers, coiling them in his grasp and pulling them up, towards his neck. jisung blinks up at you, gaze zoning in and out, and his eyes begin to well up with tears when you finally grab his throat firmly, the feeling of the choker's frilly fabric making the hair on your arm stand up.

"shit, jisung, you're fucking nasty," you mutter, fingers pushing harsher against his tongue as you grip the sides of his throat, and the new leverage allows you to angle your hips better, descending on him harsher, over and over and over again, the sound of smacking skin and wet squelches and muffled gagging echoing against the walls of jisung's head, and he only realizes he's crying when the cold tears roll down his ears, his burning red hot ears.

jisung wants to warn you, tell you he'll cum, but it builds up so fast in his lower tummy, and he sees only bright white behind his eyes as the sensation travels down his legs and up his body, feet clenching and unclenching, hands all but smacking down on you from the sheer force of the feeling, pushing and pulling at once, unsure of where he wants you - he shivers violently, thighs and ass and biceps burning and shaking, his lungs pushing all the air out in spite of the sharp clench in his chest, veins bulging in his throat and forehead and fucking cock, balls clenching as he empties inside you, the pull deliciously painful. your walls milk him too well, and he lets another sob out around your fingers as the tip of his dick throbs, each drag of your pussy sending electric jolts down his shaft, directly into his bloodstream.

jisung only comes around again when you brush his hair off his forehead softly, fingers working the cat ears out of his strands, and tenderly undoing his choker. his ears ring, and he has to relax his muscles manually, body still tensed and jolting every few seconds. you leave a peck on his temple, hand rubbing softly at his throat, down his chest, up to his cheek, and he has half a mind to tilt his head, kiss your palm. his eyes are closed.

"you're so good to me, ji" you whisper against his skin, body lying next to his. you're both sweaty and gross, and jisung is in love with you, so he tells you so.

"... 'm love you."

you chuckle and nuzzle into him. it only takes you two a minute tops to drift off, sweaty, and gross, and in love, and thoroughly satisfied. (for now - he'll agree with you tomorrow, when his brain can finally process more than three syllables at once, that he is insatiable, after all).

sick and twisted. thank u so much for reading, hope you enjoyed! here is my inbox, where you can leave feedback, thoughts, or request an idea! here you can find more of my writing, and here are my guidelines! :> i appreciate every like and reblog and sweet word thrown my way! have a nice (and wet and nasty) day hehe~ - lunar

[mci-writing]

Can I request a senku x fem reader where she goes with the group to the cave instead of magma and her and senku end up cuddling for warmth and senku is all flustered by it.

Gonna slight change this up a little, anon. I kinda sat on this knowing I wanted to write something like it, but never knowing where to take it,,, BUT it's cold outside and season 3 is up to the infiltration arc so Imma have a little bit of fall fun 🥹

Lowkey has the same reader from Bandages in mind tbh but I also like the idea of Senkuu calling his s/o Dragonfruit so-

If you’ve got a couple dollars to spare, here’s my kofi (I am a struggling college student 😳)

By Night in Caves (Ishigami Senkuu x Fem!Reader)

A figure shivers as a sharp wind blows past them. The leaves starting to change shades and the cold breeze in the air are enough indication of the fall season. While most people would probably be snuggled up in their homes under a nice quilt or a huge blanket, (Y/n) was out with Senkuu and searching for God knows what. She could probably ask him what day it was and he'd know to a T, but she'd have to wait until after their current expedition.

She did bring the Stone World equivalent of a light jacket, but the night air was starting to make it a little useless the longer they were out and about. Senkuu isn’t showing it, but she can just tell the air’s starting to get to him too.

It’s just the two of them at the moment, the rest of their ragtag group splitting off to other areas to find what they’re looking for. While Senkuu would typically go off with one of the other generals, Gen was really persistent that he go with (Y/n). It was beyond her understanding why, but she wouldn’t complain about spending alone time with her close friend again.

“Hey, Leek,” She lightly tugs on his sleeve as his crimson eyes stare far ahead, her own (e/c) eyes staring off towards a cave in the near distance. She points towards it once she feels his eyes on her, “Think we should check in for the night? I’m more than positive the others have too with how dark it’s gotten.”

“Think you’re just getting cold, Dragonfruit,” He hums in response, staring at the cave as he thinks it over. He grins at the sight of the many sticks and twigs around the area, tugging (Y/n) along with him as he starts walking in that direction, “I’m sure it won’t hurt to start a fire for a bit though.”

He’s super eager to get there, picking up various rocks, twigs, leaves, and sticks as they get closer. She attempts to help, but he’s moving faster than she can think. It’s almost a little unnerving… Kind of like he thinks this cave will benefit him in some way or something…

“Wait, is the thing we’re looking for in a cave?” (Y/n) asks, turning to Senkuu just as he gets the fire up and running at the edge of the cavern’s opening. He stands and backs away from it, holding his hands out towards it for a little bit before slowly backing away from it.

The fire is a reasonable size, big enough to ward off any animals and let anyone know they’re location if they’re passing by. Senkuu, however, is moving further into the cave. His flashlight is on, catching the twinkles of a few minerals and gems a little further inside. There’s a glint in his ruby eyes, made devious by the smirk on his face, “You can stay by the fire if you want, but I’m gonna scope this area out for a bit.”

She stares at him with a straight face, narrowing her eyes at him as he starts getting more and more visibly excited. She normally wouldn’t mind him doing his science thing to his hearts content, but it’s starting to get late and she really doesn’t want to sit by the fire by herself…

And almost like a gift from God (or a curse from Satan), it starts to rain. And it rains hard.

The fire is out almost immediately and Senkuu freezes in his tracks at the sound. The crack of his neck can be heard as he quickly turns his head towards where (Y/n) is sitting, who has visibly tensed up like a cat at the sudden change of weather. The first clap of thunder has her jumping ten feet in the air, landing a ways away from the cave’s opening and further along inside. She bumps into Senkuu as she lands, the two stumbling to the ground together.

“Well, that’s great,” Senkuu grumbles as he lays on the hard ground, sitting up a little to glare at the cave’s entrance. (Y/n) is more than glad, but she won’t admit to praying on his downfall out loud.

“Maybe it’s for the best… It was getting pretty late,” She settles for, sitting up and glancing around the cave. She then looks down at him, giving him a teasing smirk, “We’ll just have to snuggle for warmth, Leek. Stark naked~”

He’s quiet after that, his face turned far enough away from hers that she can’t read it. After a moment, he looks up at her with the most deadpanned expression he can muster. He doesn’t even humor her with a grin or an inch of a smile, moving his focus to thinking as he stares hard at the rain outside, “We could be here a few hours. While the cave hasn’t hit relatively low temperatures yet, we may actually need to huddle for warmth throughout the night to keep body temperature between us. We shouldn’t need to take our clothes off since we didn’t get wet or anything and we definitely can’t start another fire with all the wet materials outside-”

He continues to ramble off plausible game plans and (Y/n) is unable to keep up after awhile. She rests her chin in her palm, sighing as she lets him finish his little analysis. While he does that, she gets close to him and rests her head on his shoulder before pushing into his space. She gets comfortable, burying her face in his neck and leaning her weight into his body so the two of them fall back to the ground.

(Y/n) wraps her arms around his waist, snuggling into his hold until her body is flush against his. Senkuu’s thinking stops as one of his arms wraps around her out of instinct and pull her closer to his body. A soft flush warms and fills his cheeks as he holds her close, hand pressed flat against her back while his other arm lays out to his side. He looks down at her, hoping the small change in his breathing isn’t obvious as he takes in how close she is.

“Turn your brain off, Senkuu. You said we could be here for hours, right?” (E/c) orbs glance up at him through her eye lashes, a soft pout dancing along her lips, “I’m heading to sleep, so you should too…”

He watches as her breathing begins to soften, reminding him of fond memories in the old world from sleepovers past. He shouldn’t get so worked up, they’ve been closer than this before, but he can’t help but focus on every part of her he’s been struggling to ignore as of late. Things like this keep him from getting jealous of the others, because deep down he knows no one could ever be as comfortable with her as he is.

Even so, he’s still left only admiring her from afar. He’s lucky most of their comrades have picked up on his feelings for her, but he’s got a long way to go before he’s even close to ready to admit his feelings…

Yet… He can revel in moments like this for now, with her in his arms in rare private moments like this. He’s glad the mentalist set this up for him, regardless of the protests from Chrome and the proud look on Ukyo’s face. She doesn’t have to know he wasn’t actually looking for anything, he’ll just wake up before her and grab a few resources from the cave to use as a small diversion. For now, he’ll take advantage of his situation…

He plants a soft kiss on the top of her head, letting himself fall asleep after.