#maybe when i get confident enough in myself and not hate the way i look anymore i can at least let them know im doing fine somewhat

[chiisana-lion]

feels kinda strange seeing old middle school classmates nowadays on like. insta or whatever theyre all mostly hot and having fun and going out w friends and stuff and here i am bundled up in the same blanket i’ve had since i was 10 shut in my room most of the time and definitely looking worse for wear than the last time they probably got to see me

[flippedorbit]

you might as well just fucking call me by name at this fucking point

[hoshifighting]

i'm BEGGING for a collegefling! jeonghan plzz

thank youuuu 💗 love your work <33

warnings: smut, teasing, flirting, fingering, penetrative sex, cock riding, semi-public sex, library sex, loud!jeonghan, jealousy, he's such a cutie too.

college fling!jeonghan who's not the type to play around with mixed signals. if he wants something, he’s pretty direct about it. likes games—just not the confusing kind. so, yeah, when you first met him, you kind of got what he was about from day one. freshman year was chaos. the university’s big events had everyone talking—water games, shirtless dudes, bikinis, everyone all bronzed and glowing under the sun. but jeonghan— he’s not about the whole "show off my body" thing. kept his shirt on, like he didn’t need to prove a damn thing. confident as hell, and you hated how much that got to you.

he was the one who came up to you first, of course. said something like, “my friend thinks you’re pretty.” such a casual opener, like it was no big deal. but then he took it further, all smooth with a teasing smile. “but i don’t really trust his taste, so i had to see for myself.”

you remember just rolling your eyes, thinking, this guy—but also trying not to let on that his vibe was doing things to your brain. when he went on to say, “so, are we making out now, or later?”—you laughed in his face, hard. hard as fuck, actually, and told him straight up that wasn’t happening, and his response? a smirk. that smirk that would become the smirk, the one you'd start seeing every time he spotted you from across campus, during parties, even in the quiet corner of the library when you thought you were safe.

after that day, it was like this... game, but not really a game. like, you’d be minding your business, trying to get through your classes, and boom—jeonghan would be there, casually sliding in with some flirty comment, always teetering on the line of too much. but never quite crossing it. like one time, you were sitting with your laptop, probably stressed over a deadline, and he just popped up with, “you look like you could use a distraction.” you shot back, “don’t you have someone else to annoy?” and of course, he answered, “nah, i’m committed to you.” committed. like it wasn’t just a stupid flirty thing.

and it kept going. year after year. no kissing, no hooking up—just this ridiculous back-and-forth, every time he saw you, making your stomach twist up in knots. it was frustrating as hell, ‘cause even though he flirted like it was second nature, he never actually pushed you to do anything more. he knew the game. he knew exactly how far to take it before pulling back, leaving you wanting more but hating that you even did.

one night, you were at some random house party, loud music, too many people, and of course, there he was. leaning against the kitchen counter, looking all too comfortable in a place that was way too crowded. he saw you first, waved you over with that lazy smile that you wanted to ignore but couldn’t. “you lost or just looking for me?” he asked, knowing damn well you weren’t looking for him.

“neither,” you lied, grabbing a drink from the counter just to have something to hold. but he wasn’t buying it, stepping a little closer, crowding your space just enough to make your breath catch.

“right,” he said, that teasing lilt in his voice. “so you’re not here just to finally kiss me?”

you laughed again, but this time, it didn’t feel as easy. “jeonghan, you’ve been trying for years. give it up.”

“noo sweetheart,” he pouted, voice smooth like honey. “i’m just playing the long game. i like it..”

the long game. because even though you never kissed, never took it past flirting, there was always this tension, simmering just below the surface. you’d catch yourself thinking about him sometimes when you weren’t even around him—wondering if he ever thought about you the same way.

but he never made it weird. never tried to make you feel like you owed him anything, which was maybe why you didn’t hate him for it. because at the end of the day, it was fun. infuriating, yes. but fun. he’d make a comment, you’d brush it off, but deep down? yeah, there was always a part of you that kinda wanted to see what would happen if you let the game go on a little longer.

and jeonghan... he was patient. too patient, if you were being honest.

there was something stupidly comforting about jeonghan always being around. like, even on your worst days—those days when you couldn’t even be bothered to try. oversized hoodie, messy hair, not a scrap of makeup. you were barely surviving, and there he was, still managing to make you feel noticed. he’d walk up, casual as hell, and say things like, “your hair smells nice today,” or he’d reach out, fingers grazing your hand, just to say, “new nails? they look cute.”

and then there was that one time, oh god—you remember it clear as day. you’d barely rolled out of bed and showed up to class, hoodie pulled tight around you, and jeonghan slides up beside you at the cantine, glancing down at your hand. “you know what would look cute wrapped in there?” he’d said, all casual. and for a split second, you didn’t catch on. you were about to ask what he meant, then it hit you—cock. he meant cock.

you felt your face heat up, your brain misfiring as you shot him a look, trying to figure out if anyone else had heard. your eyes scanned the tables, praying no one else had clocked his little comment, and when you finally turned back to him, there he was—smiling like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. “what?” he asked, all fake innocence, like you hadn’t just caught onto his bullshit. “i was talking about the energy drink can.” and he pointed at the one in your hand, the one you had just bought. “it matches your nails.”

you laughed. you couldn’t help it. he had this way of making everything lighter, even when you were convinced it was gonna be a trash day. and he smiled too, like your happiness was his mission for the day. it was always like that. jeonghan would flirt, you’d roll your eyes or laugh, and things would feel a little easier. it was comfortable. safe, even.

but then… spring party. fuck.

there was something so painfully uncomfortable about seeing him with her. it wasn’t even the fact that they were together—it was the way he smiled at her. the way his arm was casually around her shoulders, pulling her closer, and then the cheek kiss. you saw it, and it felt like something lodged itself in your chest. like, what the hell.

it hit you like a ton of bricks. you liked the game too much. you liked him too much, but you hadn’t taken the shot. you never thought it was serious enough to matter, but seeing him with someone else? it felt like you were watching something that should’ve been yours. the whole night was a blur after that. no amount of party energy could bring you back up after seeing that.

you left early. didn’t even bother sticking around when the lights got lower, the music got louder, and everyone else started to get more and more drunk. you just… left. walked back to your dorm, the sound of your flower crown jingling a little with each step, the one your friends had insisted you wear. it felt stupid now. why the hell did you even care?

and then, as if the universe had it out for you, you saw him. just walking out of the dorms. not just any dorms. the dorms. the girls’ dorms. and you knew. of course it was her. she was in there, probably waving him off after some perfect little goodnight, and here you were, walking around with jealousy you didn’t even want to admit you had.

he saw you before you could duck away. smiled at you like nothing was weird, like you hadn’t seen him with her just hours before. “mhmmm... who’s this princess, huh?” he wolf-whistled, because of course, of course, he would. his eyes twinkled when they landed on your flower crown, clearly amused.

you weren’t. “fuck off, jeonghan,” you muttered, trying to brush past him. but you knew it. he heard it. he caught the tone immediately because even when he got on your nerves before, you were never this cold.

“whoa, whoa,” he called after you, stepping in your path with that all-too-familiar smirk, though now it felt different. heavier. “where’s this coming from? what happened? don’t tell me the princess has had a rough night?”

“i’m not in the mood,” you snapped, making a beeline for your dorm. but he wasn’t letting it go. he blocked your way again, hands stuffed in his pockets, eyes studying you like he was figuring out some kind of puzzle. you saw his eyes lighting up.

“wait a minute… are you jealous?”

the way he said it, like he was genuinely surprised and also deeply entertained by the thought. you didn’t even want to give him the satisfaction of looking at him, but your eyes flicked up anyway, glaring.

“you’re ridiculous.”

“i’m ridiculous?” he laughed, stepping a little closer. “so you saw me with her, huh?” he teased, and you could see the moment he clicked it all together. “oh my god. you are jealous.”

“shut up, jeonghan.”

but he didn’t. he was full-on laughing now, not even trying to hide how amused he was by the whole thing. “okay, okay. listen, that was my sister, y/n.”

you blinked. “what?”

he wiped at his eyes, still chuckling. “my sister. we had a family thing tonight, and she was visiting the campus for the spring party. she’s staying over, that’s why i was in the girls' dorms.”

you felt the embarrassment hit you like a wave. like, of course, you’d worked yourself up into a jealous mess over nothing. but still, the way he was looking at you, the way his laughter softened when he saw your expression change—it wasn’t like he was making fun of you. if anything, he looked… kinda pleased.

“you really thought i’d ditch you for someone else?” he asked, scrunching his nose. “after all these years?”

you wanted to hit him. and also kiss him. but mostly hit him. “shut up,” you mumbled, shoving past him to finally get to your door.

but as you fumbled with your keys, you heard him laugh again, this time lighter. “you know, if you want to kiss me that badly, you could just ask.”

"just ask?" you placed a hand on your hip, raising an eyebrow at him like you were calling his bluff. jeonghan just nodded, all nonchalant, like this wasn’t the moment of his life.

you took a step closer, the space between you two disappearing until your noses were nearly touching. you could see the way his eyes flickered from yours to your lips and back up, like he was trying to stay cool, but you knew better. underneath all that fake calm, he was freaking out.

you just smiled. you leaned in, just close enough for him to feel your breath on his lips, and whispered, “good night, jeonghan.”

you pulled back, turning on your heel, leaving him standing there. you didn’t need to look back to know the effect you had. you could feel the tension in the air, the way his posture faltered just slightly. when you reached your door, you glanced over your shoulder, catching his eyes one last time before you disappeared inside. he was still watching, a grin playing on his lips. as you leaned against the door inside, hand over your racing heart, you couldn’t help but smile too.

a few days later, you were at the library. it was one of those late afternoons where the campus was almost eerily quiet. most people were either at the football field, hanging out on the green, or already done for the day. you’d volunteered for this stupid school board vote thing, which meant you were stuck painting posters on cardboard, your hands covered in smudges of red and blue paint.

the library had this dim, cozy lighting, the blinds half-drawn so the soft glow of sunset was creeping in from the windows. but the table you were sitting at had this one bright, focused yellow lamp, shining right on your work as you dragged the wet paintbrush across the poster.

you were in your own world, humming softly, when you suddenly felt something… someone close. too close. a soft breath ghosted over your ear, so light you almost thought you were imagining it.

“boo!” a voice whispered, low and teasing, right by your ear.

you flinched hard, tensing up, your whole body jerking back so fast the paintbrush slipped in your hand. and of course, it was him. jeonghan stood there, barely an inch away, grinning like the asshole he was. his hands were shoved deep in his pockets, like he was trying to stop himself from reaching out and touching you.

“what the fuck,” you muttered, heart still racing from the scare, eyes glaring up at him. but he was having the time of his life, watching the way your body reacted, still all wound up.

“shhh,” he whispered, stepping even closer, his lips nearly brushing your ear this time. “we’re in a library.” the fake seriousness in his voice almost made you laugh, but you were too annoyed to let him win that easily.

“do you ever chill?” you asked, leaning back in your chair to give yourself a little space, but jeonghan wasn’t having it. he leaned down, resting his arms on the back of your chair like he was claiming it—and you.

“why would i, when scaring you is so much fun?” he shot back, his grin widening.

your heart was still pounding from the surprise, and now from him being so damn close, but you rolled your eyes, trying to act like you weren’t affected. “you’re annoying.”

“you love it,” he whispered, the teasing edge in his voice making you want to scream. but instead, you reached for your paintbrush again, ignoring him, or at least trying to. jeonghan, though, wasn’t going anywhere. he hovered over you, eyes scanning the half-finished poster on the table.

“what’s this?” he asked, gesturing to your work. “you painting a masterpiece?”

“just posters,” you mumbled, trying to focus on the brush strokes. but you could feel him there, his eyes practically burning into your skin. you hated how aware you were of him, of his warmth, of the way his breath still lingered on your ear.

“hmm,” he hummed, leaning a little closer again, his cheek almost brushing yours as he pretended to inspect the cardboard. “you missed a spot.”

“jeonghan,” you warned, glancing up at him through narrowed eyes. but all he did was flash you that familiar, maddening smirk.

“what? just trying to help.” he finally pulled back, standing up straight again, but not before letting his fingers brush lightly against your arm, just enough to send a spark through you.

you cursed under your breath, trying to focus on your work, but it was useless. his stupid little whisper and the way he hovered over you had already ruined any chance of concentration.

“you know,” he said casually, pulling out a chair next to you and sitting down like he had nowhere else to be. “you’re fun to mess with.”

“can you shut up for like, two seconds?” you shot at him, your voice carrying more frustration than you meant.

instead of taking the hint, he just wriggled his eyebrows at you, that shit-eating grin still plastered on his face. he never stops. you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to gather your thoughts, but the annoyance, the tension—it all bubbled up inside you, and before you could overthink it, you opened your eyes and leaned in, kissing him.

just a quick peck, a little “shut the hell up” moment, nothing more. but the second you pulled back and caught the look on his face, you almost regretted it. almost. jeonghan was stunned. like, full-on wide-eyed, frozen in place, like he couldn’t believe what just happened.

your cheeks immediately burned, but you kept your cool, clearing your throat before going back to the poster like nothing happened. “sit down and be quiet now,” you muttered, keeping your eyes on the cardboard.

for once, he actually listened. he sat down next to you, still staring, clearly trying to process what you just did. the silence that followed was awkward as hell, but it didn’t last long. because, of course, it didn’t.

he lasted about five seconds, max. then you felt his hand on your cheek, turning your face towards him. before you could react, his lips were on yours again, but this time, he didn’t hold back. it wasn’t some quick, shy kiss. no. his lips moved against yours, hungry, and then you felt it—his tongue pushing past your lips, invading your mouth like he had no patience left.

his hand slid from your cheek to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, and before you knew it, you were completely lost in him. your body responded faster than your brain could keep up with, your hand instinctively reaching out to grab the edge of the table to steady yourself.

when he pulled back, just slightly, his breath was ragged, his lips hovering over yours as he whispered, “can i?” the neediness in his voice sent a jolt of heat straight through you.

you nodded, not trusting your voice. and that’s all he needed. his hand slipped down, fingers tracing the hem of your skirt before pushing it up just enough to get underneath. his fingertips brushed over your panties, teasing you, and you could feel yourself already getting wet.

jeonghan let out a soft chuckle, his breath hot against your skin. “you’re already soaked, cant wait to suck this pussy,” he whispered

you opened your mouth to respond, but all that came out was a shaky breath as he slid one finger under the fabric, barely grazing your folds. he was taking his time, dragging his fingers slowly, deliberately, over your wetness.

“so wet for me,” he whispered again, his lips brushing against your ear now. “you want me to keep going?”

you nodded again, your hand gripping the edge of the table tighter, and you heard him let out a small, pleased hum before he pressed a single finger inside you. the stretch was slow, his finger curling as he pushed in deeper, and the slick sound of your wetness filled the quiet library, pussy swallowing easily the long finger.

it was embarrassingly loud. the soft squelch of his finger moving inside you echoed in the stillness, and your head fell back, a quiet moan slipping past your lips before you could stop it.

“shhh,” jeonghan whispered, mockingly, his other hand coming up to wrap lightly around your throat. “quiet, be quiet f'me okay??”

you bit down on your bottom lip, trying to stay quiet, but it was impossible when he was teasing you like this, his finger moving slowly in and out, curling in just the squishy spot. he was taking his time, dragging it out, the wet sounds growing louder with each shove of his finger.

“you like that?” he asked, his lips brushing against your neck now. “you like when i finger you slow like this?”

you could barely answer, your voice catching in your throat as he added a second finger, stretching you just a little more. the way your body responded was automatic—your legs spreading wider on instinct, your hips rocking forward to meet his hand.

jeonghan grinned, his fingers moving a little faster now, pushing deeper, the squishing sounds even louder than before. “fuck, you’re so tight,” he muttered.

your head fell back against his shoulder, your body giving in. you could feel every inch of his fingers moving inside you, every curl, every thrust, the knuckles, it was driving you insane. you reached out blindly, your free hand finding his thigh before sliding up to palm at the bulge in his pants.

he let out a soft groan, his hips shifting slightly as you pressed your hand harder against him. “you’re really trying to make me lose it, hmm?” he muttered, his voice strained as he continued to finger you, his pace quickening.

your hand fumbled with the zipper of his pants, trying to get him out, but it was hard to focus when he was fucking you with his fingers like this, your wetness dripping down onto his palm.

“shit,” he hissed when your hand finally slipped into his pants, your fingers wrapping around his length. he was hard—so fucking hard—and the way you gripped him made his head fall back, eyes rolling as he thrust his fingers even deeper into you.

“you like that, baby?” he asked. “you like when i fuck you with my fingers?”

you moaned softly, nodding as your hips bucked against his hand. your walls clenched around his fingers, and the wet squelching sounds got louder, filling the quiet library.

“fuck, you sound so good,” jeonghan groaned, pulling your panties to the side so he could spread your legs wider, giving himself better access. his fingers moved faster, pushing deeper, and you felt your body start to tremble, the pleasure building so quickly you could barely breathe.

“jeonghan,” you whimpered, your hand tightening around his length as your other hand gripped the table for dear life. your hips rocked against his fingers, desperate.

“that’s it, mhmm just like that baby,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear again. “cum for your hannie.. so nasty baby, letting me fuck this pussy with my fingers...what if someone see this hm?.”

before you could stop it, your body seized up, your walls clenched tight around his fingers, your back arching as you came, the wet sounds of your release echoing in the quiet library.

jeonghan groaned softly, his hand still moving, fingers still pumping in and out of you as you rode out your orgasm.

jeonghan watched as you giggled softly, in overstimulation, your head nestled into the crook of his neck, making him smile too. his arms wrapped around you tight, holding you against him.

a single line of slickness dripping down between your legs, a translucent trail of your release that shimmered against the dim library light and hit the floor with a quiet, inappropriate drip. he stared at it for a second, mesmerized by how fucking wet you were.

before you could even react, jeonghan slid his fingers from between your legs, sticky with your juices, and without hesitation, brought them to his lips. he sucked your wetness off them like it was nothing, like this was casual. but the way he moaned softly, like he was tasting something forbidden, made your cheeks burn.

“jeonghan!” you hissed, scolding him, giving him a little slap on the arm. “what the hell?”

he just shrugged, lips curved into that cocky smile. “couldn’t help it,” he muttered, the taste of you still lingering on his tongue. “you taste so fucking good.”

your face flushed even more, but you couldn’t hide the way your body still buzzed with need, even after he’d just made you come. your eyes flickered to the door—still shut, no one else around—and something wild sparked in you.

before you could second-guess it, you stood up from your chair and climbed onto his lap, straddling him fast. jeonghan’s eyes widened in shock, hands automatically flying to your hips, but not stopping you. “y/n,” he stammered, voice shaky, his breath catching in his throat, “n-no, we can’t—”

“why not?” you whined, rocking your hips forward just enough to brush his cock agasint your folds, and fuck, it felt good. you were still wet, soaked from your orgasm, and the friction was enough to make you both let out quiet, needy moans.

jeonghan’s hands gripped your hips tighter, his fingers digging into your skin as he struggled to keep his composure. “fuck,” he muttered, biting down on his bottom lip hard, his whole body trembling beneath you. “because—shit—i can’t keep quiet.”

“please,” you begged, your voice dripping with desperation, leaning closer so your lips ghosted over his. “jeonghan, i’m so horny… been wanting you for years too.”

those words did something to him. years. and it hit him all at once—the weight of everything, of all those years of teasing, flirting, the back and forth that never went anywhere, the way he’d always kept it just at the edge, never crossing the line. and now, here you were, straddling him, begging for him like it was all too much to hold back anymore. he could feel it too—the years of tension, of watching you from a distance, making you smile just to hear that laugh, all leading up to this.

“fuck,” he whispered, voice strained as he watched you grind against him, his hands flexing on your hips. his eyes fluttered shut as the pressure built between you, your slick folds dragging against him. his body was wound so tight he felt like he could snap any second.

“jeonghan,” you whispered again, your breath hot against his lips, and then you reached down between you, a gasp escaping him when your hand wrapped around his length, teasing him.

“we can’t,” he whispered, but there was no conviction in his voice, not anymore. his hips bucked up into your hand, betraying how badly he wanted this. “we can’t do this here.”

“then be quiet,” you murmured, lips brushing over his as you guided the tip of his cock to your entrance. your wetness coated him, slick and hot, and jeonghan groaned, his head falling back against the chair as you slid him along your folds. he was so hard, so sensitive.

“fuck, y/n,” he gasped, his body trembling under your touch. his hands shot to your thighs, gripping them hard as you teased him, your slickness coating his cock, making everything feel too good, too intense.

“please,” you whispered again, pressing down just enough for his tip to catch at your entrance, and jeonghan’s whole body shuddered. “i need you.”

he bit down on his lip, his hands shaking as he tried to stop himself from completely losing control. “you’re gonna kill me,” he muttered, his voice rough with lust. “i won’t be able to stay quiet.”

but you didn’t care. you wanted him too badly, needed him too badly after all this time, all these years of unspoken tension finally coming to a head. you were practically shaking with need, your hips moving on their own as you slid his cock along your folds, teasing yourself with the tip.

jeonghan let out a low groan, his eyes rolling back as you rubbed against him, the wet sounds of your slickness filling the quiet space. “shit, baby,” he whispered, his hands trembling as they moved to grip your ass, pulling you even closer. “so fuckin good around me, fuck— i dont know if i will last.”

“then fuck me,” you whispered back, your voice desperate now, grinding down against him, your slick folds swallowing his cock inch by inch. you felt him twitch, felt how much he was holding back, and it only made you want him more.

he groaned, his head falling forward, his forehead resting against yours. “can’t keep quiet, can’t can’t—” he whispered again, his breath ragged, but the way his hips bucked up into you told you all you needed to know.

you let out a soft whimper as you finally sank down onto him, his cock stretching you so slowly, so perfectly. the feeling of him inside you after all this time was almost too much, and you moaned softly, your body trembling as he filled you up, inch by inch.

you started rocking your hips slowly, back and forth, barely pulling off him before sliding back down, letting him feel every inch of you. the way his cock filled you so perfectly made you clench around him, and you could hear jeonghan’s breath catch, a low groan slipping from his lips that he tried desperately to swallow.

his hands shot to your waist, gripping you tight as you moved. your rhythm was teasing, dragging your slick folds over him as his length stretched you with each motion. you knew what you were doing to him—the way his hips bucked up every time you slid down, his thighs tensing under your legs. he was struggling to hold it together, and you were reveling in every second of it.

you leaned forward, your lips brushing his ear as you whispered, “you’re so fucking hard for me hannie”

jeonghan let out a deep groan, his head falling back against the chair as he tried to keep quiet, his breath coming in short, desperate pants. “ngh—fuck—” he hissed, his grip on your waist tightening as he tried to control himself, but the way you were moving, so slow and deliberate, was killing him.

you smirked against his neck, pressing soft kisses to his skin before whispering again, your voice low. “you love how wet i am for you, hm? bet you’ve been thinking about this all of those years, huh?”

that did it. jeonghan’s whole body trembled, and he let out a strangled moan, “ahh—shit—” his fingers dug into your hips, trying to pull you down harder, but you kept the pace slow, teasing, letting him feel every second of it.

“fuck, y/n,” he groaned, his voice breaking as he threw his head back, his lips parted and eyes fluttering shut. “you—ngh—feel so fucking good.”

his reaction only fueled you more. you started grinding your hips a little faster, rolling them in circles. you leaned closer again, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered filth, your voice dripping with lust. “you’re such a good boy for me, letting me ride you like this..”

jeonghan let out another deep groan, “o-oh—fuck—” his hands slid under your skirt, gripping your ass as he helped guide your movements, his fingers squeezing the soft flesh. his eyes were half-lidded, mouth open, and you could feel him trembling beneath you, trying so hard to keep quiet, but every whisper from you had him moaning like he couldn’t control it.

“you’re such a dirty boy,” you whispered, “can feel how bad you want to cum inside me.”

“fuck—” he groaned again, louder this time, and you quickly leaned forward, pressing your lips to his to muffle the sound. the kiss was desperate, messy, his tongue immediately slipping into your mouth as he kissed you back hard, his hands pulling you down on him as you rocked your hips faster. you could feel him shaking, his control slipping with every thrust.

you pulled back, breathless, your lips hovering over his as you whispered again. “you gonna come for me, jeonghan? gonna fill me up like the good boy you are?”

his eyes rolled back, his hands gripping your ass even tighter as he thrust up into you, his cock twitching inside you. your fingers gripped the edge of the table to steady yourself, your nails digging into the wood as you rocked against him, feeling his cock throb inside you. his hands slid back up your hips, pulling you down gently as his cock twitched one last time inside you, the warmth of his release spreading through you.

you reached down between you, sliding your fingers through your own slickness and bringing them to his lips. “taste it,” you whispered, watching as his eyes fluttered open, still hazy with lust.

he groaned softly, but didn’t hesitate, his tongue slipping out to lick your fingers clean, tasting both of you mixed together. the sight of it made you shiver, and you couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped your lips as you watched him suck on your fingers, his eyes locked on yours.

you could feel the heat between your legs still burning, still aching for more, and without thinking, you started to move again, grinding your hips against his slowly. jeonghan’s eyes widened, his hands gripping your waist as he realized what you were doing.

“y/n—” he whispered, his voice shaky, “what the—we—fuck, we can’t—”

“shh,” you whispered, your lips brushing over his as you rocked your hips again, feeling his cock start to harden inside you. “just one more time.”

jeonghan let out a low groan, his hands sliding down to your ass again as he gave in, his body already reacting to the feeling of you moving on him again. “fuck,” he whispered, his voice rough with need. “you’re gonna kill me.”

you just smiled, pressing your lips to his as you whispered against his mouth, “then die happy.”

[dicejpg]

I've got a sinking feeling - {Five Hargreeves x GN!Reader}

Synopsis: You are very flirty with Five, and he's tricked himself into believing he hates it. He tells you to stop. Then he learns the hard way how much he took you for granted when you meet someone else.

Note: Five requests would be very appreciated! Thank you to those who sent requests on my last one shot.

(Not Edited)

Warnings: Swearing

Word count: 1.5k

Extra Information: Viisi means Five in Finnish. Five and Y/n were partners in the commission. They look seventeen or eighteen instead of thirteen. This one-shot takes place on the last episode of season one, and the entirety of season two.

----

The Academy, Five's home, has just collapsed--courtesy of Vanya's new powers--and Five ordered his family to meet at Super Star Lanes bowling alley to come up with a new plan of action.

He grabs your wrist, blinking you with him. You're both in front of the bowling alley in a flash of blue.

Five takes a moment to pace around, not entering the building. The crisp, spring air bites at your earlobes as you hug your sides for warmth

"Hey, Viisi, can we go inside?" You look at him with a grimace and a pleading smile. He whips his head in your direction to glare at you, then strolls inside with a roll of his eyes. You follow in his stead.

The interior is heated, thankfully. Five informs the underpaid worker that his "parents" will be arriving shortly to pay for his bowling shoes. He takes a seat adjacent to Lane 6 and you sit next to him.

"So, how was the farewell with Delores? I know you two were close." You lean back in your seat, getting more comfortable while waiting for Five's siblings to arrive.

He does not look at you. His jaw ticks in annoyance, mistaking your genuine curiosity for mockery.

"Come onnn, I know you're stressed, but this is your sister. I'm sure she's reasonable enough not to end the world." You turn towards him, leaning your elbows on your thighs and admiring his pretty face.

"No, it's not that." He scoffs, looking at you with a sneer.

You notice that his tie is crooked so you reach out to fix it, like you often do. It's sort of your thing.

He smacks your hand away and you raise an eyebrow.

"You okay Viisi?" You rub your hand a little, surprised. Normally, he lets you fix his tie with no problem. Although, he would grumble about it a little.

"God- No. I'm not okay." He puts his hands in his hair, gripping it slightly with an exasperated expression. "And stop calling me that."

"What?" You breathe with a smile of disbelief. "What's going on? Did something happen- Did I do something?" You lean away from him a little to give him more space.

"Stop, just stop it with the touching and the nicknames. I'm sick of it!" He looks at you with cold eyes. This is very unusual of him.

You cock your head to the side, trying to understand. "Five, I thought- I thought that was our thing! Y'know, the friendly banter and-"

"I know you're desperate for some sort of relationship with me, but I'm here to tell you that it's not going to happen. We were only ever co-workers." He says through gritted teeth, avoiding your eyes. "I'm telling you to stop pursuing me." 'Pursuing' him?

Usually you would brush this sort of behavior off, ignore it. Tell yourself that it's only because he's stressed. He's always stressed! Thinking back, he was never all that nice to you. Even in your Commission days.

You'd tricked yourself into thinking that maybe he thought you were special, or that you were at least his friend. His confidant.

You look at him with eyes full of hurt, which Five has never seen from you. He almost feels something bubbling up his throat, but the feeling dissipates quickly. "Have I made myself clear?" He says evenly.

You only nod, turning away so he doesn't see the tears prick at your eyes.

Five's siblings come inside and you two don't speak to each other again.

A year and seven months later (for you, at least.)

1963, Dallas Texas:

Five anxiously pulls at his tie after narrowly escaping three armed Swedish men. He had just watched his siblings, along with you, blow up in yet another nuclear explosion. It's left him oddly shaken up about how he treated you back in 2019.

He's pacing down the alley-way between the Commerse and Knox when he notices a flash atop the roof. A large camera of some sort.

A brown haired man closes his window briskly. That's strange.

Five teleports inside, scaling up a flight of stairs with cat-like agility. When he knocks on a door, the one beside him answers, revealing a mouse-y looking man in his early thirties. He looks at him with big, expectant eyes.

"What do you want." His tone is dripping with suspicion.

"Hi, I'm selling encyclopedias for my youth group. I was curious if-" Five gets a door to the face. He huffs, blinking inside after him.

The man, Elliot, jumps, yelping in fear and pulling out a butter-knife from his drawer of kitchen utensils. "H-how did you do that?" He hesitates, astonished.

Five looks at him with amusement. "Don't really have time to explain."

Elliot runs a hand through his unkempt brown hair, gripping the butter-knife in a feeble attempt to protect himself. "You from the Pentagon? Huh?"

"Definitely not."

"CIA? FBI? KGB?"

Five eyes up the kitchen, noticing a coffee pot on the other side of the room. "Is that fresh?" He uses his powers again, blinking himself right in front of the coffee pot.

Elliot screams, whipping his head back and forth between the place Five just was and the place he appeared. "What..." He pants, eyes wide.

"Elliot? You okay?" Five hears a faraway voice from another room. A familiar voice. "Who's with you?" It asks.

You appear from around the corner, presumably from Elliot's bedroom, looking almost two years older.

Five furrows his eyebrows and so do you. He breathes out your name is what you almost register as relief. But, you know better then to think that.

"Oh, Five. You're back." You say casually, nodding and crossing your arms. Five sets the coffee down, unwillingly noticing how you didn't call him by his nickname.

"How long have you been here?" He walks towards you, looking at your slightly different features. You changed your hair, he observes. He says nothing about it.

"A year and a half, I believe." You tap your chin in thought. Elliot glances between you two with interest or surprise.

"You two know each-other?" He puts the butter-knife back onto the counter with a small clatter.

You nod, shrugging. "We were co-workers." You send Elliot a reassuring, genuine smile.

Co-workers. Five doesn't like how the word rolled off your tongue.

He licks his lips, looking away. "You live here?" He asks you, although it was a silly question considering its obvious answer.

You nod with tight lipped smile, approaching Elliot. You fix his hair with your fingers and flip the collar of his flannel back down. "Did he scare you? I told you he could be a bit much."

Elliot exhales a shaky laugh at your words and actions as Five begins to feel a hot, frothy feeling in the pit of his stomach. He changes the subject. "Are my siblings here too?"

Elliot answers for you, looking back towards the teen again. "The other six anomalys- The power surges." He begins to look excited at this new discovery. "They're your siblings?"

Five ticks his jaw, ignoring him. "So they're alive..." He begins to pace around. "I think I stranded them here. Now listen to me..."

"Elliot." You tell him his name.

"Whatever, alright? I got ten days to find them and save the world." He points to you and Elliot. "Now, I need your help to do that."

Elliot is just so happy to be involved, his three year long project finally achieving some major development. He scrambles to find a certain newspaper scrap from his desk drawer. "You know what? I, uh..." He fumbles with it, handing it to Five.

"I always thought that this, uh, mugshot looked like arrival number four."

"Diego." Five reads softly, then he twists around to face you. "You're coming with me." He states.

You hiss awkwardly through your teeth, avoiding his eyes. "Ohh, about that... Actually, Elliot and I were about to play Scrabble. It's Scrabble night."

Five narrows his eyes at you, barking your name. "The world is ending and you're just gonna play Scrabble with this homebody?"

Elliot looks at his dusty wooden floors with a look of dejection.

"Uh, yeah. That's exactly what I'm gonna do." You lean against the door-frame with a bored expression. "I thought you wanted me to stop following you around like a lost puppy."

Five feels strange. "You know what? I don't need this." He blinks away to search for Diego.

When Five returns from the strip club, after a failed attempt of recruiting both Luther and Diego, he decides to test something. His fingers reach for his tie, pulling at it and skewing it. Perfectly crooked.

You couldn't resist fixing his tie, he knew this.

So why didn't you? He finds himself uncharacteristically frustrated about your unresponsiveness.

As he demands that Elliot develop his Frankel Footage, his eyes trail to you occasionally, silently tempting you to straighten his tie.

Your eyes flicked to it once. However, you made no move to adjust it.

Five heaves a dramatic sigh, angrily fixes it, and leaves to look for Vanya.

He messed up before, he realizes. He feels like shit.

[solxamber]

Madly in love with how you write the twst cast its all so good genuinely read the idia x sentient npc one and its SO GOOD I THINK NBJVSD

Tossing in a request since it seems like theyre open,,

How about headcanons oneshot whatever you feel like writing, for Azul in mer form x a reader, who understands what he feels about himself, since before they were frequently bullied too, giving way for reader having a terrible self esteem and image of themselves, so when they happen to see him in merform, with the knowledge of his own opinions of his merform, theyre actively being incredibly encouraging and affectionate towards him maybe moreso than normal, to show they arent gonna hate him for just being himself

Romantic preferred but go with whatever ya wanna if you do end up writin, have a good day ! :]

Good enough - Azul x Reader

Thank you so much!! I'm really glad you liked it! 🫶 and thanks for the request <3 I hope you like it!

Azul had always been self-conscious about his merform. He’d avoid showing it at any cost, especially to you. The sight of his tentacles felt like a reminder of everything he was insecure about. His mind was quick to dredge up memories of those who had ridiculed him—distant echoes that still haunted him.

But today, fate had conspired against him.

You didn’t mean to stumble upon him while he was in his merform, swimming quietly in a private lagoon, seeking solitude. The moment your eyes met his, Azul froze. Panic coursed through him, and his tentacles twitched in agitation. He wanted to flee, to hide, to get out of sight before you said anything that might sting.

Azul immediately tried to disappear beneath the water, a soft ripple marking where he’d submerged. But you could see the tips of his tentacles, still close to the surface, betraying his location.

“Azul?” you called out gently, trying not to spook him. “You don’t have to hide from me.”

A few bubbles rose to the surface. Slowly, his head appeared again, water cascading off his shoulders. He wouldn’t meet your gaze, his eyes averted in shame. “I… didn’t think you’d be here.”

“Neither did I,” you said with a light chuckle, settling yourself by the water's edge. “But since I am, why don’t you talk to me?”

He hesitated, tentacles curling around him protectively. His gaze flickered up briefly before darting back down again. It wasn’t like Azul to look so… vulnerable. You waited patiently, giving him the time to collect his thoughts, refusing to press too hard.

Finally, with a heavy sigh, he whispered, “I know I shouldn’t care. It’s been years. I’ve built myself up to be powerful, untouchable.” He paused, his voice trembling slightly. “But… the bullying… it still got to me more than I’d like to admit.”

The admission felt like it had been pulled from deep within him, something he’d kept buried for far too long. It hurt to hear him speak with such anguish, the usually confident Azul now stripped of his armor.

You slid closer, dipping your feet into the water as if bridging the distance between you could make your words sink deeper. “Azul, that doesn’t make you weak. It doesn’t make you less than what you’ve become.”

Azul’s eyes flicked up to you, filled with a mixture of surprise and uncertainty. His tentacles, once coiled tightly around him, relaxed just slightly.

“Those people—they didn’t define you. You’ve done that for yourself,” you continued, voice steady and firm. “And you’ve built something incredible, something they could never take from you. But it’s okay if it still hurts. You don’t have to pretend with me.”

He was silent for a long moment, letting your words sink in. Slowly, his tentacles began to uncurl further, stretching out in the water like a silent surrender.

“You know, I was bullied too when I was younger."

Azul's gaze flickered, his usual composure faltering. He wasn't expecting that. You had always seemed so confident, so at ease. He could scarcely imagine you feeling the same shame he had once felt.

"I get it. People can be cruel, and they don’t need a good reason to tear you down. I thought it was because something was wrong with me… because I wasn’t ‘good enough’ for them to be kind."

Azul remained silent, but you saw his posture relax ever so slightly. You continued, voice softer, “But I’m starting to realize… that I’m not what they said I was. And neither are you.”

His tentacles curled in close again, an instinctive defense. His voice was hesitant when he spoke. “And what am I, in your eyes?”

You let out a small chuckle, shaking your head. “Someone who doesn’t have to hide. Someone who’s clever, capable… and worth being proud of. Tentacles or not.”

Azul was staring now, looking for any trace of deception or insincerity in your words. But he found none. Instead, he found your gentle gaze, filled with admiration that made his heart race in ways he couldn’t quite explain.

"You’re... not disgusted?" he asked softly, the vulnerability in his tone almost breaking your heart.

"Disgusted?" You laughed gently. "Azul, no way. Actually..." You leaned in conspiratorially, "I think you look beautiful."

Azul looked at you then, truly looked at you. His eyes were wide with surprise, as though he couldn’t believe what you’d just said. Slowly, his lips quirked up into a faint smile, tentative but genuine.

“Beautiful, huh?” he asked softly, a touch of amusement in his tone, but there was something deeper in his gaze—something vulnerable and hopeful.

You smiled back at him. “Absolutely. And, Azul… you don’t have to hide from me. I see you. All of you. And I’m not going anywhere.”

His heart stuttered in his chest. He’d never expected to hear words like that, not directed at him, not sincerely. And from you? Someone he held in such high regard? Azul wasn’t sure how to respond, so he did the only thing he could—he let your words sink in.

As he studied you—his tentacles uncoiling slowly in the water—you reached out, your hand grazing the smooth surface of one of them. His breath hitched, but you didn’t pull away. Instead, your touch was light, affectionate. Comforting.

For the first time in a long while, Azul felt… accepted. He felt like he didn’t need to hide, not from you. The world might still be cruel, but with you by his side, it didn’t seem so overwhelming.

In a quieter voice, you added with a teasing grin, “Plus, if anyone has a problem with your tentacles, you could just... slap them out of the way, right?”

Azul’s laugh bubbled up unexpectedly—rich and genuine. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

You both shared a warm silence for a moment before he raised one of his hands from the water. His fingers were delicate and graceful as he reached for yours, gently intertwining them. “Thank you… for seeing me.”

You gave his hand a small squeeze, your voice filled with determination. “You don’t have to thank me, Azul. I’m always going to see you.”

As you sat there, your hand intertwined with Azul's, the world seemed to slow down around you. The soft ripple of the water, the gentle warmth of the sun filtering through the lagoon, the quiet intimacy of the moment—it all felt like a perfect bubble outside of reality. You couldn’t help but notice the way Azul’s fingers fit so naturally with yours, his touch unexpectedly warm and comforting.

Azul’s gaze was locked on you, something unreadable and intense flickering in his deep blue eyes. His tentacles, which had once been so tightly coiled, now drifted lazily in the water, brushing lightly against your legs. There was a new kind of softness to him, a vulnerability that he’d only ever shown to you.

“You really are something special,” he repeated, this time with a weight that made your heart skip a beat.

His voice was low, almost reverent, and it sent a shiver down your spine. The smile on your lips faltered for a moment as the air around you seemed to shift, charged with a sudden tension that was anything but uncomfortable. Azul’s eyes flickered down to your hands, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a slow, deliberate motion.

“You’re the only one who’s ever seen me like this,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “The only one who’s ever made me feel… worthy”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you felt your heart pounding in your chest. His words, so genuine and vulnerable, struck a chord deep within you. You hadn’t expected him to open up like this, hadn’t anticipated the way your own emotions would swell in response.

“And you…” Azul’s voice softened even more as he met your gaze again, his eyes glinting with something that made your pulse quicken. “You’re the first person who’s ever made me feel truly seen.”

There was a pause—a heartbeat where neither of you moved, and yet everything seemed to change. You weren’t sure who leaned in first, but suddenly, the distance between you was closing, the world narrowing to just the two of you. The scent of saltwater hung in the air, mingling with the warmth of his presence.

Azul’s free hand came up to cup your cheek, his touch feather-light as though you were something fragile, precious. He studied your face with an intensity that made your cheeks heat, his expression soft but filled with something deeper, something that made your chest ache.

Then, before you could process it, Azul gently pressed his lips to yours. The kiss was soft and sweet, almost hesitant at first, as though he were testing the waters. But the moment your lips met, it felt like everything around you disappeared—the lagoon, the past, the pain of old memories—none of it mattered in that moment.

You responded in kind, leaning into the kiss, your hand tightening around his as if to ground yourself in the reality of it all. His lips were warm against yours, soft and reassuring, and the taste of the sea lingered faintly on them. It was a quiet, tender kiss, filled with unspoken promises and a vulnerability that neither of you had dared show the world before now.

When you finally pulled apart, both of you were breathless, foreheads resting against each other as you shared the same space, the same air. Azul’s gaze lingered on you, his eyes dark and warm with a depth of affection you hadn’t expected to see there.

“You’re beautiful,” you whispered, your voice soft but unwavering. “Inside and out.”

Azul closed his eyes for a moment, exhaling a shaky breath. When he opened them again, they were filled with something warm and tender, something that made your heart feel like it was swelling in your chest.

“And you,” he said quietly, his voice filled with emotion, “are more than I ever deserved.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Azul, you deserve everything.”

Azul smiled at you, the expression soft and genuine in a way that made your heart flutter. His hand still cradled your cheek, and as he leaned in again, brushing his lips gently against your forehead, you couldn’t help but feel like, for the first time in a long time, you both had finally found something—someone—worth holding onto.

And in that soft, intimate moment, beneath the soft sunlight, it felt as though the walls he’d carefully built around himself were beginning to fall. Not entirely gone, but for the first time, Azul felt he didn’t need them quite as much—not with you here, not with the way you looked at him, like he was something precious.

Masterlist

[blueicequeen19]

Mark Me

Warnings: nothing dark, just some revenge closet play with JJ

I run into a firm chest in my panic, nearly tripping over my own feet to right myself as a warm chuckle meets my ears and hands find my hips.

"Sorry, sorry!" I ramble, looking back down the hallway for Rafe. I hear his angry footsteps on the stairs. There's nowhere else I can run or hide. I don't think before opening the closet door - a massive coat closet - and throwing myself in it.

I don’t get a chance to turn around before a warm body pushes in with me, pulling the door shut and sealing us in darkness.

“Get out.” I hiss, moving to hit the light switch but he slaps my hand away.

“Stop. He’ll see the light on under the door.” A new form of panic seizes my chest at the familiar Pogue voice. I groan, hating that he’s probably smiling right now but I can’t see him in the dark.

“Come on, princess. I’m sure you’ve been caught in worse situations.” I smell the weed on his clothes and the mint on his breath before I quickly take another step back, my back brushing the coats.

“Not with a Pogue.” I chide, crossing my arms and debating what a suitable amount of time would be to wait before leaving. It was stupid to push Rafe Cameron. Even more stupid to run from him.

“Pogues are more fun.”

“It’s blondes, not Pogues.”

“Good thing I’m both.”

I don’t bother with a response as I roll my eyes, counting to twenty in my head. I wanted to make Rafe jealous but the moment I saw him, I panicked. He told me not to humiliate him after our breakup but I can’t find it in me to care. I want to get under his skin as badly as he is under mine.

“What’s the deal with Rafe?”

“None of your business.”

“Maybe I can help.”

I sigh. “I don’t do drugs.”

“I have other uses.”

My cheeks heat over his shameless flirting so I quickly change the subject.

“I told Rafe I was hooking up with someone new and when he asked me who, I drew a blank. I couldn’t think of one single person. So I bolted.” There’s a snort and I don’t have to see his smug face to know he’s laughing at me.

“Shut it.” I snap, crossing my arms over my chest as he tries to stifle his laughter.

“Well you could make him jealous another way. Have someone give you a hickie or something.” My eyes widen but he’s not wrong. That would be proof in a way.

“I can’t have them in visible places.” I blurt, cupping my neck.

“Your chest works. You can go flash him and hide it from everyone else.” The amusement in his voice is gone making it suddenly hard to breathe.

I swallow the lump in my throat. “And who would do it? You?”

“No one would have to know it was me.”

I want to step back but I can’t. There’s no where else to go in here. I hate that he’s right. If I really wanted to get back at Rafe, a hickie would do it. The thought of Rafe jealous has me clenching my thighs.

“Okay. Just.. no teeth.” I reach out my hand in the darkness, feeling his shirt on his chest a lot closer than I expected. I just needed to make sure this was real as I move both hands over the toned muscle and up to his shoulders. I listen to the sounds of his labored breathing as his hands find my waist.

I was nervous. My stomach was doing flips. My heart was racing. My skin was buzzing. I couldn’t believe I was doing this. No one had to know the mark was from him..

“Are you sure you want me to do this?” JJ asks, his voice sounding strained but gentle. I wish I could make out his face in the dark as his warm breath brushed my lips.

“Mmhmm. Be quick.” My voice sounds more confident than I feel. His legs brush against mine as he moves closer, the feel of his breath moving across my cheek and to my neck. His lips ghost down to my collarbone, leaving goosebumps as he goes. I reach up and tug the neck of my top down enough to reveal the swell of my breast without freeing my nipple.

“You smell amazing.” JJ groans, making me bite back a whimper as my pussy clenches around nothing. He smelled amazing too.

The hands on my waist tighten as they slide under the hem of my shirt, the heat of his skin on mine making me tremble. I can’t move. I can’t breathe. When his head ducks and I feel his lips press against my breast, a choked sound slips from me.

I open my mouth to say something - anything - but suddenly his mouth is open, sucking gently on the swell of my breast and my knees threaten to buckle. Why did that feel so good?

JJ’s hands tighten on my waist and he grunts, making me realize my nails are biting into his shoulders. I feel his wet tongue glide against the skin and wetness seeps into my panties. My clit throbbing in tune with my heartbeat. I suddenly wonder what that tongue would feel like on my clit when his mouth releases me. My mind is in a daze as I battle with myself whether to beg for more or step back when his mouth finds my very hard nipple and sucks. Hard.

“Oh—.” I gasp, my hand flies out to brace myself, smacking the wall hard. My eyes threaten to roll but my body is begging for more. My pussy is begging to be filled. I’ve never been more turned on in my life and I can’t figure out why. If someone catches me with him, my life is over.

“JJ..” I don’t sound like myself as I sway on my feet, my head hanging back as his tongue and teeth assault the sensitive flesh while his hands begin to wonder. One hand finds my ass with a firm squeeze. The other cups my breast still tucked in my bra.

“God, the sounds you make—.” JJ sucks in a breath, yanking my bra down and attaching his mouth to my other nipple. My toes curl in my sandals, an orgasm teetering on the ledge just from nipple play.

My brain begins to turn to mush when suddenly he’s turning us, my back now firmly against the wall and his knee between mine. I’m too far gone from lust to argue. His mouth moves between my breasts, licking and biting and sucking, as his knee starts to rub against my pussy. I’d never been more grateful for a skirt in my life.

“JJ.. I’m gonna..”

“Fuck.” The single word had never sounded so hot then when its growled against my skin, forcing my eyes to roll back as a wave of pleasure crashes into me so hard I can’t breathe. I fist his hair as I shamelessly grind my pussy on his knee, biting my lip to keep from crying out as I ride it out.

I’m too dazed to notice when his fingers replace his knee or when his mouth got so close to my own. I can’t find it in myself to care. This was for revenge after all. When two thick fingers slide inside me, his lips are on mine to silence my cries. I cum again almost immediately. I taste blood as I bite into his lip, fighting the urge to scream as he pumps his fingers.

“Let me have it, pretty girl. Use me however you want.” JJ growls against my lips, sinking his teeth into my own lip. I roll my hips in time with his hand, fucking myself until I’m spent and exhausted.

The wave of pleasure doesn’t stop though. I need more. I don’t even recognize myself as I yank him forward by his belt loops, sucking his tongue into my mouth. I nearly lose it when his fingers slide out of me and he moans as I work him out of his shorts.

“Are you—.”

“Shut up. I need more.” I silence him with a kiss, my hand wrapped around the thick, length of him as I stroke him with his own precum.

“You’re killing me.” JJ hisses as I pull away long enough to shove my panties down my legs then turn to give him my back.

“Give me what I want.” I whimper, yanking him closer by his shirt until his cock brushes against my ass.

“Say please.” He taunts, bracing one hand on the wall by my face as he guides his cock between my legs.

“You just want to hear me beg a Pogue.”

“I’ll have you begging regardless.” His cock notches my entrance, stealing my breath as he pushes in deep with one hard thrust. I moan against the wall as his breath fans against my neck, my body wound tight. I don't hesitate before starting to back into his thick cock. JJ's groans in my ear, his hands tight on my hips as I take what I need.

"You feel really fucking good." JJ whispers in my ear, giving me goosebumps.

[httpiastri]

more than enough – jmm21

you hate your birthday, but pepe is determined to change your mind.

genre: fluff/a little angsty/comfort

pairing: reader x college!pepe marti, ft christian mansell and sebastian montoya

warnings: uhhh anxiety and such ?? idk

word count: 2.6k

author's note: just like last year, this is merely a very self-indulgent birthday gift to myself (and a bit of a late birthday gift for a friend on here who confided in me about not liking their birthday either), so sorry if you don't relate but i needed to write this for myself despite how painful it was. not happy with how it turned out but, i had to get it out of my system. <3 (also not proofread because i will freak out likely aaaaa)

this is mostly a standalone fic but ig it kinda works as college!pepe so i put that there. i got this idea at my mom's birthday back in march but never actually wrote it until this last week... also loosely based on a tiktok that really spoke to me.

also! this doesn't really work with the headcanon of pepe, seb and chris all sharing an apartment, but i wanted it this way. i also wasn't comfortable including gaby or hermes, so i used the names nora and emma for seb's and chris's respective gfs. :)

"why didn't you tell me your birthday is next week?"

the question is innocent enough, only borderline accusing, but something tightens in your stomach nonetheless. you don't look up from the pot in your hand, however, instead continuing to scrub it with your dishbrush like it's no big deal. "who told you that?"

pepe chuckles as he makes his way over to your side, leaning against the counter as he looks at you. "emma," he tells you, crossing his arms over his chest. "going to answer my question now?"

"i must've forgotten to tell you."

"oh, come on..." your boyfriend shakes his head. "is there a reason i wasn't allowed to know? did i do something? do you not trust me? am i-"

"pepe," you say, his name followed by a sigh as you look over to him in hopes of stopping his rambling. "it's nothing personal."

"what is it, then?" he presses, eyes following your hands as they begin to rinse the pot he'd cooked your pasta in just a couple hours ago. "why don't you want to tell me?"

you take a deep breath, shrugging your shoulders before turning off the tap. "i just... i'm not a big fan of my birthday."

the biggest understatement of the year.

you hate your birthday.

for a number of reasons, really. some to do with your family and childhood; many to do with your own inner thoughts and feelings.

you hate how it reminds you of every bad birthday you had as a kid. you hate how it makes you hopeful that people will remember and congratulate you, because you hate how painful it is when they don't. you hate how you always get reminded of how little people seem to care, and how they always prioritize themselves even on what's supposed to be your day.

it's too much of a mess to explain to him right now – maybe, hopefully, one day you'll have the energy and courage to go through it all.

you hadn't forgotten to tell pepe; you had just been silently hoping he wouldn't address it, and that everyone else would forget, too. but apparently, you have a snitch in your friend group. "what do you mean?" pepe asks.

"i'd much rather not celebrate it." you place the pot on the drying rack, wiping your hands on your towel hanging by the stove before turning to him. "a lot of stuff regarding my birthday just makes me really upset. if i could, i'd just... make it disappear, honestly."

your eyes flicker to the floor, fingers nervously fiddling with the sleeve of your shirt. he can tell you don't want to get into it, and he won't push you. instead, he opens his arms wide, taking a step forward. you accept the offer instantly, arms wrapping around his waist as he pulls you close.

the air in your little dorm room isn't as thick as you had expected it to be when telling him all of this – but at the same time, you aren't surprised. pepe has always had a way of grounding you, making everything seem a bit easier. "i can't make it completely disappear, i think," he says, placing his chin on top of your head. "but i can pretend for you."

you hum contently, letting your eyes close for a few moments. "that would be great."

he remains quiet for a couple of seconds, but then he can't stop himself from talking again. "do you really not want anything? no party? you threw me that party for my birthday, i'd feel guilty not doing anything back."

"i did it because you had a fun time and you like those things, and because i enjoyed planning it. but i was really hoping i could skip all that," you answer, pulling away ever so slightly to look up at him with a sheepish expression. "i would honestly rather have dinner with you, emma, nora, sebas, chris... maybe get some takeout from that new indian place down the road?"

to pepe's ears, you sound more than just a tiny bit crazy – but your being so different from him is one of the things that attracted him in the first place. he nods, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. "whatever you say, love."

"where did your girl go?" emma asks the second pepe slumps into a free seat by the cafeteria table.

your boyfriend shoots a glance over his shoulder back to the serving line before setting his plate down. "they were out of rice so she's just waiting for a new batch," he says with a shrug.

"okay then, let's be quick before she gets here," emma speaks up again. "what are we doing for her birthday? it's just a few days away, but i think we can pull something off."

"me and seb were talking about throwing her a surprise party," nora says, looking over at sebastian who's nodding excitedly.

pepe, however, lets out a dismissive sound and swats the air with his hand. "no, forget about that," he says, stuffing a spoonful of pasta into his mouth. "she doesn't want any of that."

nora snorts. "what? of course she does."

"you know, pepe," emma counters, eyebrows raised at the spaniard. "every girl will tell you that she doesn't want a surprise party. don't bother, i don't care, you don't have to do all that for me! but in reality, we're all secretly craving it."

pepe considers her words for a few moments; maybe there is some truth in them after all. maybe all you did was try to act modest, to put the idea in his head so he would make the right choice.

but you weren't the one to bring up the subject – he was. he remembers clearly how you were doing your very best to avoid talking about your birthday at all, and the memory of how tough of a subject it seemed like to you is still etched into his mind. he thinks you were so brave to confide in him like that, and so he needs to stand up for you. he can't dishonor your trust.

"trust me, guys. she really doesn't want it." he ignores the groans of the people around him, taking a few sips of his water before continuing. "can't we all just grab some dinner on saturday instead? maybe that new indian place?"

"works for me," christian joins in. "how about presents, then?"

"right, are we all buying something together, or separate gifts?" emma fills in.

pepe shakes his head yet again. "i don't think she wants that, either." his words are followed by a long silence, which makes him unable to hold back a chuckle. "just paying for the food should be enough."

nora sighs dramatically, the palms of her hands pressing into the sides of her face. "and i'm supposed to just trust you, huh?" she asks and pepe merely shrugs, focusing back on his food. "hope you're not messing with us here, marti."

"i have no idea what he said, but he usually is," your voice spreads through the group as you finally take a seat at the table. "fill me in and i'll help you decide if he's just being annoying."

"i was just telling them about what mr. peterson said yesterday," pepe says quickly. "about what he'll do to everyone who fails the exam."

you throw your head back laughing, nodding instantly. "oh my god, that was hilarious. so, it started with someone on the front row asking about..."

pepe loves birthdays. his own, too, but mostly he finds himself looking forward to his friends' birthdays and longing to celebrate the important people in his life. he loves picking out gifts, planning celebrations, and making sure everything is perfect. it just comes naturally for him to be caring and detailed in that way.

but while pepe eagerly awaits your birthday, you couldn't even come close to feeling the same way.

most years, you spend the weeks leading up to your birthday dreading it, and the day of your birthday crying, because your birthday reminds you of everything you try to forget year-round.

pepe wants to make the day perfect for you, but he also obviously doesn't want to do too much. it's a hard task, but he's set on making it work – and the first step is getting a cake.

his first thought was to get you something huge, something to properly convey what he thinks you deserve and how much he loves you. though, it didn't take long for him to realize that something like that would be way too much for you. instead, he settled on a more basic yellow cake with some kind of white coating that the lady in the bakery recommended to him, and dropped by the grocery store near campus to buy sprinkles and a bunch of candles.

the end product is a little messy, but created with so much love, and pepe knows you're going to adore it. what he doesn't know is how he managed to keep you away from his refrigerator and the surprise hiding in it all night yesterday, but it doesn't matter – all that matters is that you're currently still sleeping soundlessly in his bed, with no clue of what's going on over in the kitchen.

pepe's hands are trembling slightly as he lights up the candles; he is a little nervous, he will admit, but he's also excited at the same time. he can't wait to see the look of surprise on your face, so he hurries up and places the cake on a tray along with two cups of coffee.

he silently curses at the way his bedroom door creaks when he pushes it open with his foot, but thankfully you don't move a single muscle. he carefully scoots over to the side of the bed, sitting down next to you and balancing the tray in his lap. he reaches over with one hand to your cheek, thumb tracing along your skin, fingers settling under your jaw. "mi amor," he whispers, a soft hum leaving his lips as he watches your eyelids slowly flutter open. "happy birthday."

it takes a few moments for your eyes to adjust to the sunshine lighting up the room, but when they do, they can't help but focus on him. the goofy grin on his lips, the messy hair, the-

the cake on his lap.

you push yourself up to sit in bed, rubbing some sleep out of your eyes. you're mistaken, surely? you're still half-asleep, you must've imagined it...

but no amount of blinking makes the cake disappear. the little flames of the candles swaying in the air, the single drop of stearic rolling down the side of a candle, the rainbow sprinkles sticking to the top and sides of the cake – it's all very real.

pepe was so sure this was the right way to go. but seeing the tears begin to seep out of the corners of his eyes makes him horrified. he messed up.

he knew the sprinkles would be too much. and that amount of candles, what was he thinking? he definitely went overboard.

"oh my god," he says, instantly placing the tray on the bedside table before scooting closer to you. "i'm so so so sorry, i thought you would like it... i don't know what i was thinking. here, let me-"

you shake your head as he begins brushing away your tears with his thumbs, and to his big surprise, you chuckle. "don't be sorry," you say, letting out another laugh when you see the confused expression on his face. "i do like it. a lot." you reach up to take his hands in yours, bringing them down to the bed and intertwining your fingers. "it's just... very emotional, for me. as you can see."

he also chuckles now, and he thinks he understands – even though seeing your happy tears is more painful than he'd expected. "okay," he says with a nod. "so..." his eyes flicker back to the cake.

"yes, please. i mean, what could be better than a sugar rush first thing in the morning?"

pepe would've been so happy to shower you with presents to express how much he loves you; it would've made him so proud to invite all your friends to a big celebration, to show you how much you mean to all of them, to change your idea of a birthday. but this – sitting together in bed, eating straight from the cake (no plates needed), pressing sugary kisses to each other's cheeks – is another form of perfect.

he just hopes you think it's perfect, too.

hearing you tell the stories of how you needed to bake the cake for yourself if you wanted one as a child, how you always made sure to buy yourself a gift because the risk that no one else would get you one was too high, and how you always needed to plan out your own parties breaks his heart – but hearing you open up like that also means the world to him. he understands that it's all buried so deep inside of you, but there's nothing he wants more than to help you heal and to prove that you can have much better and bigger birthdays than that.

but for now, a little cake in bed and a ton of kisses will have to do.

baby steps.

"chris, will you pass me the chicken korma?"

he leans over the crowded couch table and holds out the takeaway box to nora, who takes it into her hands and thanks him. "that one is really good," you tell her through your mouthful of bread, nodding to your friend.

"what's the verdict, then?" sebastian asks from his seat over on the couch. "i need a rating from the birthday girl, one to ten."

"food? ten," you say, taking a sip of your soda. "company? ten."

birthday? eleven.

the whole day has been much better than you'd expected; from your wake-up this morning, to the lunch date you shared with pepe over in town after a cute walk along the river, to having your closest friends all gathered in your living room for you. you don't even mind the way your buttcheeks are already starting to hurt after sitting on the floor for too long – you knew you should've invested in more seating for moments like these – because all of this is worth it.

"agreed," pepe chimes in from next to you. "especially about the food."

"speaking of which," says emma. "was there any bread left?"

you're quick to jump to your feet, already turning towards the kitchen. "garlic or plain?"

"ooh, garlic! thank you!"

pepe hurries off the floor right after you, making up some excuse about getting a new spoon for one of the sauces, but no one even bats an eye. you hear him enter through the door, and you smile instinctively. "how are you feeling?" he asks when he reaches your side, hand finding the small of your back as you rummage through the takeaway bag. "is this all enough?"

"it's more than enough. so much more." after pulling out the garlic naan from the bag, you reach up to the side of his face with your free hand, brushing your thumb over his cheekbone. "best birthday ever."

you seal your words with a feather-light kiss to his lips, and he's still smiling when you pull away. "you promise?" he asks, eyes searching through yours for any slightest hint of insincerity or uncertainty.

"i promise." another kiss, followed by a gentle hum, and he visibly relaxes. "thank you."

"no, thank you." for opening up, for letting him do all this for you. for existing. "only happy birthdays from now on, okay? i will make sure of it."

"it could never be anything other than a happy birthday with you around."

[holylulusworld]

Death or date? - Flufftober 12

Summary: Lloyd Hansen and you hate each other. More than once you tried to kill each other.

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x Assassin!Reader

Warnings: assassins in love, enemies to lovers, mentions of killing people

Trope: enemies to lovers

A/N: This story was written for Horny Hoes Hootenanny hosted by @yenzys-lucky-charm and @sweater-daddiesdumbdork. I used the prompts:

🍁 enemies to lovers

🍁 the villain/monster has feelings (or thots) for you

🍁 "Wait, what do you mean you kinda like me?"

Kinktober vs Flufftober 2024

He’s done. Just done. You stole yet another kill. Lloyd is pacing back and forth in front of the monitors at the command center. His expensive loafers squeak on the floor as he tries to fathom that you were, once again, faster than his whole team.

“I should just hire her!” He yells at his team over the earpiece. “How hard is it to shoot a target? Why do I pay you? I should just do it myself!”

Lloyd rips the earpiece out of his ear and drops it to the ground, stomping on it like an angry child.

Lloyd is panting heavily. The vein in his neck threatens to burst any moment. Because of you. Only you. The nemesis pissing in his cornflakes. The thorn in his side. The only wanking material getting him hard lately.

“Fine, I give up,” he grunts and kicks imaginary stones. “She wins.”

You chuckle when you see the newest message on your phone is from your chosen nemesis. Lloyd mustache-enthusiast Hansen.

That fucker ruined mission after mission, always killing your target first.

You paid him back the sneaky way by paying one of his confidants. They give you all the information you’ll need to finish Lloyd’s mission before he can even lift a finger.

“Let’s see what he wants. Maybe more insults or offers to kill me…”

Mustache Dude: I’m done fooling around. Let’s take each other out.

You stare at the message, blinking a few times. He can’t mean… no way. That's impossible.

Well, fuck it. You only live once. Before you can chicken out, you reply…

Sexy Bitch: Hansen, are you talking about a date or death? 🍸 I’m getting mixed signals here.

Lloyd stares at your message for a brief moment. Did he mean what he wrote? Did he stoop so low? He huffs, but eagerly replies.

Mustache Dude: It’s up to you. I’m cool with either solution. I just gotta fit it into my schedule. So, tell me a date and a time…

You snort at his reply. It didn’t take him ten seconds to answer.

Sexy Bitch: Okay, surprise me… You can choose a date and time. 🍹🔪 No matter what, you'll pay for the drinks…

Sending your reply, you smirk. Whatever Lloyd Hansen is up to, you’ll be prepared.

Mustache Dude: Friday, 9 pm sharp. The place where we first met. Wear something nice. Red preferable. I like red. 💃

You don’t reply and leave Lloyd hanging. Shutting off your phone, you debate whether to meet up with the annoying bastard or not…

Lloyd looks around the empty restaurant. He rented the whole fucking place only to meet up with you. If you are up to dinner, you’ve got the place for yourself. If you want to kill him, there will be fewer people to kill.

He looks at his watch, impatiently tapping his foot.

Lloyd looks around the restaurant, as you stride through the door at 9 pm sharp. You’re wearing a stunning red dress. Not short enough for Lloyd to see more than you want, but short enough to give him ideas.

Lloyd licks his lips. He looks at the bouquet of red roses in his right hand, while he hides his favorite combat knife behind his back.

“Hansen,” you coo while stepping closer to glance at the roses. “So, what will it be?” You ask, pointing your clutch at him. You’re hiding a knife behind your back and a gun in your clutch.

“Y/L/N,” he replies, eyes dropping to your cleavage. “Hmm…I kinda like you alive better. Even though, you paid one of my men to rat me out.”

“Wait, what do you mean you kinda like me?" You furrow your brows. “I thought this was a peace offering.”

“Oh, it is a peace offering. The night will end with my face between your legs, making amends for stealing your next kill.”

“We will see, Hansen.” You smirk and snatch the roses out of his hand before pressing your combat knife to his throat. “I hope that mouth can keep up with your sharp tongue. If not, I’ll consider killing you.”

[hedgehog-moss]

I’ve been having a bit of a hay shortage lately—January was very cold and snowy so the animals ate a lot, plus I have an extra mouth to feed this year, and I hadn’t realised Poldine would eat so much in her first year! Next summer I’ll make sure to buy enough hay for 4 animals rather than 3 and a half.

In the meantime I’ve been offering various hay substitutes, such as brambles, or my Christmas tree. It was waiting on the pile of green waste I intend to burn in early spring, until I remembered seeing someone’s ad in the local paper that went “if you want to recycle your Christmas trees, give them to me, my goats will love them!” I figured well, llamas are tall goats, maybe they’ll enjoy a bit of Christmas tree, and they did !

(Baby Poldine is always very circumspect about new foods, but she did end up tasting it.)

Pirlouit was also pleased with this unexpected breakfast. They all took turns nibbling at the tree until only the trunk was left :)

Still, I was trying to contact nearby farmers to ask if they have some hay to spare (it’s not that I’ve run out, I just want to be prepared in case of another cold spell), and I also moved the animals to my other pasture down the road, as there’s still some dry grass there. It’s not well-fenced though, and I wasn’t very confident in this pasture’s ability to contain Pampe, but I figured—there’s no grass to be found in any nearby pasture, so why would she try to leave this one?

(Because Pampe.)

I left the llamas & donkey frolicking in this exciting new place (Poldine looked enchanted to explore a new pasture, she was bounding around like a baby goat!), and I went skiing today, as a (late) birthday gift to myself. The skiing station is just half an hour away and this has become a very anticipated birthday ritual since I moved here! This year I waited until I had found some way to keep the animals busy before taking a day off, so there would be no llama leaks in my absence.

So of course I got a text from a neighbour in the afternoon, telling me my llamas had been spotted on the road, going towards the village. (“Pampe looked determined. She was going to the grocery shop to get muesli.”) (Pampe is so famous, people even know her favourite snacks 😭)

Since I was literally on a ski slope I decided to turn my conscience off and pretend I hadn’t seen the text. I thought, if the llamas do end up in the village I’ll get more texts updating me on their position and I’ll be a responsible llama owner and go home (promise), but they’ll probably get off the road and into the woods somewhere between my house and the village and they’ll spend the afternoon eating communal shrubs and they’ll be fine.

When I went home a few hours later, I found my donkey alone in the pasture where I’d left him in the morning—we both had to wrestle with a moral dilemma today, and Pirlouit’s was “do I loyally follow my friends and potentially starve to death, or do I stay by myself in this place with very adequate dry grass to munch on?” He really hates being alone, yet he chose food over friendship.

I brought Pirou back to his normal pasture (he wouldn’t have liked to find himself alone after sunset) and went looking for the girls. I’d had a neighbour on the phone who had talked to someone who’d talked to someone who had seen the llamas and had “shooed them in the general direction of your house.” That was some very helpful shooing, because I found them just a couple of kilometres away, and indeed going in the right direction.

Pampelune leading the way, determined to go home before night; Pampérigouste last, internally grumbling that it was still early and they could have explored the world some more.

I usually jog with the llamas when I bring them home so we don’t spend too much time in the middle of the road, but there aren’t many cars when the road is icy and also after a day of skiing, you don’t really feel like jogging a few km at a brisk pace in heavy snow boots. So we went home in a slow and solemn procession.

I called the people who had told me about the llamas’ whereabouts to thank them, and explained that this escape was the result of a failed attempt to move the animals to my poorly-fenced second pasture because I don’t have a lot of hay left—and one of them told me he could spare a bale and he’d bring it to me tomorrow!

“So I’ve done everyone a favour” (is probably Pampe’s conclusion.)

I gave them hay as I figured they hadn’t had time to graze much in the other pasture, but only Pampe was hungry. Well, Pirlouit is always hungry, but Pampe indignantly rebuffed him. “You chose food over adventure. You don’t get to eat the food I’m getting as a reward for a successful adventure.”

Pirlouit is completely resigned to the fundamental unfairness of a dutiful donkey’s life.

[daisymbin]

it's not just a game - yoon jeonghan

word count: 1.2k words

warnings: mentions of alcohol

pairings: yoon jeonghan x afab reader

genre: friends to lovers, fluff, a hint of angst

a/n: this has not been proofread so i apologise if there's some mistakes. also, its been a little while since i posted zzzz

check out my masterlist!

jeonghan's pov 

the bottle spun and landed on me. ''truth or dare?'' as soon as the words left seungcheol's mouth, i knew i was utterly screwed, especially with that stupid sly smirk on his face. it didn't matter what i picked because i know, with both options, the boys would stir some shit up one way or another.

just to be clear, i am in no way a willing participant in this game, especially not when all of us are either drunk and tipsy. but of course, who am i to say no when seungcheol suggested this game earlier to y/n and she just had to drag me by my hand and ask me to play together. it's just a game hannie, don't be such a scaredy caaat

am i going to admit that i am scared? no. but am i scared? beyond that, i am terrified, mortified. why? because 30 minutes prior to y/n arriving at our flat, i had just been talking to seungcheol and joshua about her. after specifically telling them both that i dont think im ready to confess yet because as much as i hate to admit it, i become a stuttering mess in front of her. and i hate it because that's not me. that's not who i am. i am yoon jeonghan. i am confident! i don't get nervous. i don't get shy. ever. so why am i like this in front of her?

‘’hurry up, handsome. you're taking too long.’’ she whined; pulling my heartstrings. ‘’dare.’’ i said without putting much thought into it. ‘’who do you think is the most attractive person here?’’ soonyoung asked. 

‘’myself of course.’’ 

‘’aside from yourself, dumbass.’’ vernon laughed.

‘’im older than you! watch it.’’ i said jokingly as i punched his arm lightly.

‘’so? who is it?’’ seungcheol continued probing. 

‘’i'd rather take the penalty shot than answer this stupid question.’’

‘’ok fine, take the shot then.’’ joshua said dejectedly.

i poured myself a shot and lifted it to my lips, but before i downed it, ‘’come on guys, technically, he did answer the question.’’ y/n came to my defense. I immediately put the shot glass back on the floor. ‘’exactly. i did technically answer your question.’’ 

’yeah you did except, we're playing truth or dare and you weren't telling the truth. sooo……penalty shot.’’ vernon bit back. i gave him a tight-lipped smile and down the penalty shot in surrender.

this time, the bottle landed on soonyoung. ‘’alright, truth or dare buddy?’’ joshua asked soonyoung. ‘’mhmm…dare.’’

‘’i dare you to give y/n a kiss on the cheek'’ seungcheol said with a laugh. a kiss?????????? on the cheek???????? oh hell. ‘’what kind of stupid game is this?? you guys didn't even ask her. what if she doesn't want that??’’ i challenged.

‘’do you not want to y/n? if you don't, its really fine, jeonghan is right.’’ joshua said.

‘’i don't mind it. come on hannie, it's just a game.’’ she said as she looked at me with those eyes. if i didn’t know any better, i would have thought that it was those eyes of adoration..like..she feels something for me too. my breath hitched for a moment. but i do know better; lightweight y/n is just tipsy, maybe a little drunk. those eyes didn’t mean anything at all. 

and with that, soonyoung turns to his side and gave her a peck on her cheek, it felt agonizingly long, that is, until she looks up me while soonyoung still has his lips on her cheek. im conflicted. half of me feels…..feels jealousy. the other half of me feels..light…like im floating almost. ‘’s-soonyoung ah, thats enough.’’ i couldn't stand seeing it anymore. 

‘’come on, lets stop this. its already 230am.’’ i suggested. 

‘’lets just play one more round and then we'll call it a night.’’ vernon tried accommodating.

‘’oh yes! one more round! please hannie! i haven’'t had this much fun in such a long time.’’ how could i ever say no?

this time, the bottle landed on y/n. ‘’dare or dare y/n?’’ soonyoung asked. ‘’what do you mean dare or dare?’’ she pouted as she asked.

‘’come on, it's the last round of the night. lets make it fun! go with a dare please!’’ soonyoung asked her as he clasped his hands together; begging her with his puppy dog eyes. ‘’okay fine lets go with dare.’’ she answered as she patted soonyoung's head. no, i am not jealous.

‘’kiss……jeonghan hyung.’’ my eyes grew big as the words left soonyoung's mouth. is he crazy? has he lost his mind? my eyes glanced over to y/n slowly, trying to gauge her reaction. i watched as her eyes grew wide for a second before it turned into a smile. ‘’hannie, do you mind?’’ she asked me gently, as if gauging my reaction as well. ‘’i..i mind of course. what kind of friends kiss each other?’’ i said nervously as i picked up the penalty shot and downed it, handing the empty shot glass to her. ‘’here. i took the penalty shot for you. game over, let's all go to bed now.’’ i got up as soon as she took the shot glass from me. i'll try to erase the image of her frowning when i got up.

‘’y/n'’ i said as i entered my room and beelined for my closet. i turned around to make sure she was listening, but instead, i found her following me around like a hurt little lost puppy that's been kicked aside. frowning a little, i said ‘’you can take my bed, i’ll sleep on the couch tonight.’’ 

‘’okay.’’ she said softly.

‘’whats wrong?’’

‘’nothing’s wrong.’’

‘’something is clearly bothering you. what's wrong?’’

at that, she hesitates for awhile before she broke the silence. ‘’is kissing me really that bad?’’

‘’no but we are friends! we can't kiss. that would be inappropriate and weird.’’ i tried to clarify, though i know this didn’t make things any better.

‘’well do we have to be just friends?’’

‘’what are you-'’

‘’kiss me hannie'’

‘’you don't know what you're asking of me, y/n.’’

‘’i do. i know what im asking of you so please. unless you really don't want to and the thought of kissing me disgusts you then i-''

i don't know what came over me but before i could register anything at all, i found my hand in her hair and the other on the side of her neck, guiding her to me. no, i did not shut her up with a kiss but my lips are brushing against hers. she's so close i can feel her breath hitching, i felt the beating of her heart speed up as i leaned down to press my lips on hers. i felt her hand come up to my side and fisted my shirt as if holding herself back from giving more into the kiss.

i pulled away slowly to look her in the eyes. the emotions swirling behind them were the same as she one the gave me earlier. ‘’it's not just a game is it hannie?’’ she asked as she looked down. i lifted her chin for her to look back at me, ‘’it’s not just a game, y/n.’’ 

[flowerxbunnie]

could you do maybe one where chris fucks reader with a ghost face mask. it’s literally my biggest fantasy

Ghostface

Chris x Fem Reader

Warnings: SMUTTY SMUT INSANE SMUT. Knife play (no blood), degrading, mask

DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE NOT OKAY WITH SMUT OR ARE A MINOR.

scared to post this but here y’all go

Chris POV

“No Y/n I promise it’s not a live animal,” I say into the phone, gaining a laugh from my girlfriend on the other side.

“What the hell kind of surprise could it be then Chris? You know I hate waiting.” she whines and I grin to myself, knowing she doesn’t have a single clue what’s in store for her once she gets back home.

“What kind of boyfriend would I be if I ruined a surprise?”

“Ugh, I hate you Christopher Owen.”

“I love you too honeybee, drive safe.” I hang up, sitting my phone beside me on the bed and standing up to get my case of supplies from the closet.

Just as I finish making sure everything is sorted and ready, Y/n steps through the door, and I hear her toss her keys and purse onto the table in the entry way. I meet her in the kitchen, stepping behind her as she rummages through the fridge for a drink.

“Missed you baby, how was Target?” I ask, running my hands up and down her soft arms, placing a kiss into her hair.

“I got a bunch of cute Christmas decorations!” She turns to face me, her eyes lighting up. “I need you to help me put them up soon because in my opinion it’s never to early to start decora-“

I cut her off with a kiss, snaking my hand around her waist and to the small of her back, pulling her against my hips to see if she notices my hard on yet or not.

“Chris, I was getting excited to tell you about what all I got,” she gives me those damn puppy dog eyes that she’s so good at and I almost feel guilty for interrupting her, but I know what I have planned will make up for it.

“We’ll talk all about it later honeybee, come to the room.”

I give her another quick peck before taking her hand and guiding her down the hallway. She takes off her shoes and plops down on the bed, taking notice of the black leather case that she hadn’t seen there when she left.

“What’s this?” She reaches her hand out, fiddling with the latch. I smack her hand, enough to sting, and her eyes shoot up to me laced with confusion and shock.

“Did I tell you to open it, baby?” I ask, a new found confidence taking over me.

“Chris, what’s gotten into you?”

I say nothing. Instead I take a step closer to her and grab her hand, guiding her touch from my bare chest all the way down to the stiffness that’s aching in my jeans. She flashes me the smallest little smirk possible, and I know she thinks that she’s caught on.

“You got me a toy didn’t you??” she bites her lip and lightly squeezes my dick, causing it to throb in her hand.

“Mhm, something like that baby.” I reach around her to grab the case, picking it up running my fingers across the latch.

“You remember your safe word, right honeybee?” I ask, looking into her eyes to make sure I want to go through with this.

“Um, yeah? Why would I need it?” she replies so innocently, confusion creeping back into her face. I take my free hand and caress her face, my thumb rubbing across the soft skin of her bottom lip.

“Undress for me. Then sit down and close your eyes.”

She does as she’s told, removing every article of clothing down to her panties and I decide I’d like her to stop there, already having something in mind. “Leave those on for me.”

She sits down onto the edge of the bed, eyes shut tightly, then I slip on my mask, pushing my hair back to keep it out of my face. I can’t say I didn’t feel a little nervous as I pulled the knife out of the case. I run it along my fingertips, getting a feel for the weight and the pressure.

I slowly and carefully bring the tip of the knife against the soft underside of her chin, running it upwards with a featherlight touch and coaxing her to look up. Her eyes shoot open and I can tell she is shocked at the feeling and sight of a cold blade against her skin, and the sight of me in a ghostface mask looking down at her.

“Don’t move, pretty girl. Wouldn’t want a slip up would we?”

I can see the realization in her eyes, but she still gulps and blinks hard a few times, trying to come up with her next move.

Reader POV

“Got it,” I whisper out, trying my best to not move a muscle.

“Such a good girl, always listening so well for me.”

His voice is muffled from the mask covering his face, it’s honestly turning me on to the point I have to clench my thighs together for some sort of friction. The blade is slowly backed away from my chin, dropping to his side as he undoes the button and zipper on his black jeans with his free hand.

“Now if you really want to show me how good you can listen, lay back and spread your legs.” he tilts his head to the side as he demands me.

“O-okay,” I slowly lay back, keeping my position at the end of the bed and opening my legs for him. I feel his warm fingers tracing the fabric of my red panties gently, hooking behind them and slipping them to the side, exposing my dripping core to him.

“Mm, I really like these,” he says lowly before letting go quickly, causing the fabric to slap against my clit. I can’t help but gasp, the sudden sensation both painful and pleasurable.

I watch as he brings the knife to my knee, running it up my thigh at a snails pace until he reaches my hip. His other hand runs up the opposite thigh, warm and tender compared to the cold of the blade. He slips it under the strap of my panties, and in a swift motion the fabric is cut in two. I gasp knowing in my right mind that this is one of my favorite sets, but I know better than to say anything.

“What’s the matter?” he questions, tilting his head and dragging the knife across my stomach to the opposite strap of my panties.

I shake my head, scared to mutter a word.

I feel a stinging sensation on my hip, him sticking the tip of the knife ever so slightly into my skin. Despite him literally having my life in his hands, I can’t help but grow wetter and wetter with every move he makes.

“I said what’s the matter, baby.” His voice is harsher and the stinging intensifies as he presses the blade in with the smallest amount of extra pressure.

“I l-liked that pair, that’s all,” I admit, hearing a chuckle underneath the mask.

Before I can process what has happened, he cuts the second strap and pulls my panties off of me, stuffing them into his pocket.

“I don’t think you’ll miss them too much, sweetheart.”

This has me dripping, seeing the red lace peeking out of his pocket as he drops to his knees, gaze locked between my legs.

“Such a pretty little pussy.” he whispers, hand on my left thigh to ensure they stay apart.

He shocks me by taking the flat side of the knife and slapping it against my pussy. I can’t help but whimper in shock and pleasure, this being the first time I’ve been touched where I need it most. He doesn’t say a word and repeats his action, slapping it harder against me this time. And then a third.

“F-fuck,” I moan out, throwing my head back onto the bed.

I feel something else rubbing against me- not warm and not cold. I lift my head back up to see him running the handle of the knife up and down against my clit. I buck my hips in response, needing the pressure and stimulation. His free hand grasps onto my hip, pushing me into the bed and preventing me from moving. He turns the knife back around to the flat side and slaps my wet core again, shaking his head. I cry out in pleasure, biting my lip after to try and stifle my own sounds, feeling myself begin to drip.

“Is somebody enjoying themselves? You’re making such a mess sweetheart.” He brings the knife in front of his face, inspecting it and running his finger along the edge, my wet juices all over the blade.

He stands up and climbs on top of me, hovering in a straddle position but not putting his weight on me. I watch as he runs the knife up my stomach, between the valley of my breasts and feel it inch up my throat before stopping in front of my lips. His free hand connects to my throat.

“Be a good girl and clean it for me, hm?”

My breath hitches as I open my mouth and stick out my tongue, running it gingerly along the edge of the blade, moving to collect everything else from the flat side as I’m throbbing with need, a complete mess underneath of him.

“I have your life in my hands, sweetheart, you know that right?”

I whimper and nod, knowing and trusting fully that Chris would never ever actually hurt me. He stands up to remove his jeans and boxers, his erection slapping against his happy trail and a drop of precum leaking onto his abdomen. He leans down to grip my hair, pulling me into a sitting position and holding the knife against my throat.

“Take it all.”

I lick the precum off his happy trail, then move my tongue down to swirl around his swollen head. His grip in my hair tightens and my air is cut off a bit as the knife is pressed harder into my skin.

“I said fucking take it all.”

I look up into the eyes of the mask as I oblige, not hesitating as I take his entire length into my mouth, sucking and coating him. His sounds are still muffled but I hear him begin to breathe heavy under the mask.

He uses the hand that’s wrapped into my hair to pull my head closer, his dick going into my throat causing me to gag and drool, but he doesn’t stop. He’s pumping in and out while tears are dripping from my eyes and saliva is running down my chin. I feel his dick begin to pulse, but he takes his hand from my hair, releasing his grip and allowing me to come up for breath.

“Look at that pathetic face, so pretty. Doing so good for me.” he says, running two fingers along my chin, collecting my own saliva and shoving his fingers into my mouth to clean them. They pull out with a popping sound and he pushes me back onto the bed, raising one of my legs over his shoulder. He begins teasing my folds with his head, slowly running it up and down eliciting pathetic sounding moans from me, just aching for him to be inside of me.

“Listen at you, sweetheart. You’re just so desperate for more aren’t you?”

“P-please. Please I need it.” I whimper out, the tip of the knife poking into the thigh he has propped on his shoulder.

He groans and slaps my entrance with his dick before he harshly pushes into me, taking no time to let me adjust.

His thrusts are deep and fast, the sounds of his hip colliding with the skin of my thigh echoing in the room. He throws his head back in pleasure, his free hand coming down to press onto my stomach, feeling a bulge and I realize he’s feeling himself deep inside through my skin. The sensation sends a shockwave of pleasure through my body causing me to whine and clench around him.

“Such a tight little pussy, so perfect for me.” He groans, looking back down at me as my mouth hangs open involuntarily. He removes the blade from my thigh, turning it around and shoving the handle of the knife into my mouth.

“You needed something to fill that pretty mouth, didn’t you?” he growls, moving it in and out at same the pace as his thrusts.

I whimper and whine, feeling the vibrations on the handle of the knife in my mouth. My stomach tightens and I feel my high approaching, and he takes notice. His hand quickly finds its way to my core, his thumb pressing into my clit and kneading it.

“I just wanna ruin you, sweetheart. Let go for me, come on,” he beckons, his pace picking up and his thumb pressing harder into my bundle of nerves. This sends me over the edge and I start to fall apart around him, arching my back up with the knife handle still in my mouth, muffling my cries of pleasure.

He groans lowly and I feel him pulsing before I feel a warm release inside of me, his own orgasm taking over as his head falls back. We go over the edge together, sweating and panting and dizzy.

He pulls the handle out of my mouth, tossing it to a safe spot before ripping the mask off.

“Fuck, y/n. So fucking good.” he pulls himself out of me, hissing at the sensitivity and brushes his sweaty hair out of his eyes. He’s glistening and dripping with sweat. I’m silent as I try to regain my composure, light headed from my intense orgasm.

“Honeybee are you okay?” his voice softens with worry, coming down to lay beside me and turn my face to his. I meet his gaze, his blue eyes watching me so sweetly and give him a soft smile, hardly able to hold my own eyes open.

“More than okay, Chrissy. Just tired.” His lips meet mine in a sweet kiss.

“Let’s go get cleaned up and then we’ll put out all your new decorations, sound good?”

[geopsych]

re: the tumblr ai stuff, please don’t wipe your blog!! your blog has been so important to me and many others as a place of authentic light and beauty and i would hate to lose it forever 💕

there is a way to download the contents of a tumblr blog (it’s in settings, i don’t remember rn, but i’ll find it if you need it) maybe you could upload to another site or a personal site?

i know this is very serious, and i hate how we are unwillingly contributing to synthetic art, but the world would be poorer for me without your pictures <3

Thank you. Your words mean a lot to me.

This is a dilemma for me. I have loved doing this blog and going out to look for pictures and interesting things to bring here has given me motivation and meaning through years of struggle with depression and several kinds of grief. Going out to look for pictures has put me in situations where I have seen incredible beauty, much of which I never really managed to capture. Also, the many warm and kind messages I've received from people all over the world have given me heart and made me feel less meaningless as a person and more connected. Sometimes I've been criticized for buying the checkmarks and giving money to Tumblr but I wanted to do what I could because Tumblr has been my one happy and safe place online. But now this. To me AI in relation to creativity is just a way for well-to-do but untalented people, the proverbial tech bros, to profit from other people's hard work and creativity. It has no redeeming value in relation to creativity and is actively harmful to artists of all kinds. <trying to figure out how to put a read more link here> I don't even count myself among the real creatives, artists and writers and others who have worked hard and put years into honing their crafts, into learning to translate their hearts and unique spirits into their creative expression. I just see beautiful things and take pictures of them. But it would still make me sick to see AI works based on my pictures, on these times and places that have meant so much to me. Recently I saw a set of cat 'photos' on here that everyone was reblogging and exclaiming over but that to me seemed to just be AI art that was more convincing than most. As time goes on more and more output of AI is going to be almost indistinguishable from real works and unscrupulous people will pass them off as real, getting credit for what was actually created by others. Whether they profit from them becomes almost irrelevant at that point because what's worse is that we will have less and less sense of what is real. And as some have pointed out AI will now also be scraping from AI, muddying the waters further from here on in. This is an apocalypse of sorts, an apocalypse of creativity, ultimately likely to kill the joy of artistic endeavor for many who would otherwise produced brilliant, beautiful, funny, and/or shockingly original things. I'm still parsing and dissecting my thoughts and feelings about what Tumblr has done and how to react. Staying and leaving my blog up feels like consent. I am not confident in the integrity of anyone connected with scraping sites for AI. I'm not convinced that a little toggle in settings is going to make much of a difference in the long run. On the other hand I like posting here and I have received enough messages over the years to know that my blog is a positive influence on some lives. I was looking forward to May and June and posting pictures of the incredible beauty of eastern Pennsylvania in those months. And I was planning on making a side blog for posting some poetry I've been working on. It will break my heart to leave.

I haven't decided yet. Believe it or not this whole thing has given me awful physical symptoms. I'll let you know when I decide. Thank you again for your kind and lovely note!

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ Once More, With Feeling ♡

♡ Pairing: poly!hyunlix x gn!reader

♡ Genre: fluff/angst

♡ Summary: Unable to sleep after a major argument leads to a breakup, you return to a place that's close to your heart to find comfort and end up with something much more special.

♡ Word Count: 1.4k-ish

♡ Warnings: None.

♡ A/N: I was listening to dreamy low-fi indie music and got in my feelings so, like, come get in them with meeee.

It’s 3:23am and you can’t sleep. Two tablets of melatonin, three cups of chamomile tea, and an endless loop of soothing rain sounds have done nothing to change that. Your heart aches, it’s unbearable, and there’s not a single thing you can do about it. Rolling onto your back, you rip the covers off, only now realizing how much you’ve been sweating from the anxiety of cycling through last night’s events over and over in your head.

None of this feels real, losing Felix and Hyunjin, the ones you love the most. Maybe it was a bad idea from the start, the three of you being together. Maybe you weren’t as well equipped to keep them both happy as you thought. Every “maybe” hangs over you as if it’s written in glow-in-the-dark paint on the ceiling, taunting you from the void. Does any of it even matter now? Whatever it was that led to the eventual downfall of your relationship, the argument that ended it all, you can’t go back and fix it.

Even still, your heart longs for the possibility that you’ll be together again someday. You’ve always liked to think that when you truly love someone you’ll find each other no matter what, in this life or the next. It could be wishful thinking, the musings of a hopeless romantic. What does it hurt to wish, you figure, if that’s all you have? You take a long, deep breath in, allowing your breath to slowly flow back out as you squeeze your eyes shut. If I lay here long enough I’m bound to fall asleep. Right?

“Fuck it” you groan, popping up out of bed and throwing on your fuzzy bunny slippers. Felix thought it’d be cute if the three of you got matching pairs. You hate how right he was. You’ve been fighting tooth and nail with yourself all night not to drive down to the pier. For years it’s been the destination of endless late-night drives. It’s where you snuck away together when the rest of the world felt like it was too much. Your memories of being there, as much as they might sting, are the dearest things to you and you need to drown yourself in them now more than ever.

So, before you know it, you’re headed out the door pulling a hoodie over your head, car keys in hand, desperately seeking solace in nostalgia. It’s a long, lonely ride to the pier. The combination of empty streets and too-long traffic lights gives you the sense that the world has come to a screeching halt. Whether it has or not for everyone else, it has for you. The light flashes neon green, bringing you back down to earth just as you begin to drift away, and you’re making the right turn that takes you to your usual parking spot. 

Turning the car off, you take a moment to sit and inspect the other cars around you. There are a few on your side, a dozen more on the other, but there doesn’t seem to be anyone out here. Probably all people who live nearby. Confident that you’re alone, the wall you’ve put up comes crumbling down, tears falling down your cheek faster than you can wipe them away. Why am I doing this to myself? You shake your body in what would look to a passerby like a cute, albeit strange, dance of sorts in hopes that some of the emotions overwhelming you will fall away like leaves.

Get it together. Summoning all of the courage you have, you make your way to the stairs leading up to the pier. You almost slip on the gritty, sand-coated steps, but manage to make it to the top without breaking your neck. As you venture forward you already hear the waves crashing to shore. You feel the stars watching you, their gaze intense and overwhelming. Only it’s not their gaze at all. There’s someone at the end of the pier staring back at you, teary-eyed and stunned. That intensity, that overwhelming emotion, it’s his.

Felix? No, no, no. You turn on your heels, racing back to the car before you lose it completely. “Wait!” he yells, running after you. Felix hadn’t expected to see you here either. He’d typed a million text messages asking you to come but he’d deleted all of them, thinking you wouldn’t want to see him with everything being so fresh. He’s been wishing too, as much as you have, and he can’t let this moment slip away. Your car door’s halfway open when he reaches you, your fingers held tightly around the handle.

“Can we talk?” he asks, his hushed voice skimming your neck as he pushes the door closed. You don’t fight him. You don’t want to. The feeling of his chest against your back, the wind blowing his hair so that it tickles your cheek, makes you want to melt into him. Turning to face him, melting is the first thing you do, straight into his arms. He doesn’t hesitate to hold you tight to him, the tension soothed by the simple act of having you near him again. “I’m really sorry” you weep, “I should’ve seen that you weren’t happy.” 

Felix shushes you, his fingers stroking your neck, “Stop, don’t say that. I was happy. Me and Hyunjin…working with each other, we just get frustrated sometimes and it wasn’t supposed to come home but it did. I should be sorry” “What? No invite to the family reunion?” you hear Hyunjin ask and you’re positive that you’re hallucinating. But when you look up he’s standing there staring at the two of you with an expression you can’t quite make out. “I…no…we didn’t…” Felix stutters but Hyunjin’s already walking away, heading for the edge of the pier, ignoring you like you’re strangers.

You’re so much more than that and he knows it. Enough time hasn’t passed for him to erase what you shared from his mind. Even if he could, he wouldn't. Why else would he be here? Hyunjin shoves his hands in his pockets, stopping to make a half-turn toward you. “If I admit I’m an asshole will you come with me?” “I mean, we already know you’re an asshole so…no” Felix teases, getting a laugh out of both of you. “What if I say I’m sorry and that I’d really like to not be alone…to be with you two?” A long stretch of silence separates his question and your answer.

“Wait up,” you smile, taking Felix’s hand and dragging him along with you to catch up to Hyunjin. Meeting him at the center of the pier, you take his hand too and the three of you walk to the edge together. Any other time the minutes would fly by, all of the laughter and kisses making hours feel like minutes. But, in the presence of lingering pain, minutes feel like hours. “It’s not the same,” Hyunjin sighs, picking at his already chipped nail polish and flicking it into the sea. You want to deny it but you can’t. “No, it’s not.” Felix sits down, crossing his legs as he frustratingly tousles his hair, “So that’s it, then? We’re done?” 

You take a seat beside him on the ground, sick to your stomach at the thought, “I mean, is that what you want?” “Of course not. It’s never what I wanted. We are what I want.” You turn to Hyunjin and he’s already sitting down on the other side of you, his head resting on your shoulder. “Me too” he yawns, “But what about you? It doesn’t matter what we want if you don’t—” “I do. I always will.” Their faces brighten up, even in the midst of their exhaustion. Felix takes his jacket off, gathers it in a little bundle in your lap, and lays down. “Maybe it shouldn’t feel the same this time,” he muses, “We should make it better.”

You pet Felix’s hair, “I’d like that.” Hyunjin nuzzles up closer to you, seconds from falling asleep, “Better sounds nice.” Stroking Hyunjin’s cheek, you lean into him too, every sleep aid you tried kicking in at once. Suddenly the world feels like it’s moving again, bursting with life even in the dead of night.

You’ve always liked to think that when you truly love someone you’ll find each other no matter what, in this life or the next. How beautiful it is that it turned out to be this one after all.

[anticapitalistclown]

reader having the scary dog privilege with the big boys 🤤

I think in the lookism verse, reader could have the scary dog privilege with every character lol, lookism men are built different.

Since the characters aren't requested, I'll choose the big boys myself

Scary dog privilege headcanons

reader x Taesoo, Jake, Jerry and Vin Jin

Taesoo

Scary dog privilege? more like scary bear privilege

He really is scary, his face straight up says "don't talk to me", yet since you started to know each other that he asked you daily how your day was, he loves to hear you talk.

He hates everyone, everyone except you and maybe his successor

Since you started dating that you didn't have to get worried about your surroundings anymore, you have a boyfriend that will do it for you.

You can walk everywhere with the confidence that Taesoo can break anyone's ribs with a single punch, although his aura is scary enough for anyone to dare approach you

And there's no need for him to be always stuck with you! just for you being known as Taesoo's partner makes people shiver in fear

It's cute to see a sunshine walking around Ansan happy and without a worry with a muscular and enormous boyfriend behind them (who spoils his partner to the brims)

Jake

He's so cute omg, he's that boyfriend that looks like he has doberman vibes, yet he's a golden retriever.

You're walking on the streets with an enormous, muscular, tattooed and scarred-face man who asks you for cuddles every night

He's big and scary, yet he loves cute things (you)

He's also won a name, Big Deal is quite known and respected for, so people think twice as to approach you

Even though he might not always be around you, a big deal member for sure is to make sure the boss's darling is safe

He loves to walk next to you, pick you up from work or classes, he gets to spend time with you and make sure you're protected <3

Sometimes he doesn't give scary vibes bc he just can't stop smiling at you, yet he is always aware of your surroundings

Jerry

Same as with Jake, he's a big and scarred-face scary man, who people try to avoid looking directly at him, yet he turns into a blushing and stuttering mess when asking you to hold hands.

It's great to walk next to him, people only look at you in fear or admiration

He's so tall and big that he protects you from the sun, also you will never lose him in crowds

He's the best helper, you're tired? he will carry you without any effort, you have to carry heavy stuff? no way, he will do it for you <3

You are boss Jerry's darling, so you also have all the protection from the big deal underlings

Vin

More than scary, he's just an asshole

People be looking at you, and he will put his disgusted bitch face and tell them "tf you looking at?"

He's the type to tell you "babe, dress as you want, I can fight"

Yet he prefers to see his partner to stood up for themselves, if things get more uncomfortable tho, he will step in, he always has your back.

It's true that he is more muscular, and it makes him look more intimidant, and he knows it, so when walking with you, he kinda likes to show off.

Will bitch-slap any guy that looks at you the wrong way <3

[maul-of-shame]

Elrondriel/Galrond people I HAVE A THEORY-

SPOILERS FOR TROP SEASON 2

I find it funny Lord Sauron himself chose to appears as a brunette with soft wavy locks, big trusty brown eyes and appearing as devoted/loyal with a side of stubborness to "hit on/be hit on" by THE Galadriel (bro had access to her mind, knew what her soft spots would be), wonder WHO this reminds me of-

Sure, his hair is a tad longer than Elrond, BUT-

HEAR ME OUT ON THIS-

Sauron is everything but dumb.

Sauron had full access to Galadriel’s mind.

He could literally waltz around in her thoughts like it’s his own personal Airbnb, sipping tea and taking notes on all her emotional soft spots. And who does he channel? A guy who looks a lot like Elrond. Coincidence? I think not.

The two of them (Galadriel and Elrond) are tight.

VERY CLOSE.

They’ve got this deep, decades-long very close friendship (some like myself would say there is an underlying romance there/feelings) where they’re constantly sharing forehead touches, hand holds, and just generally being all up in each other’s personal space in the most tender, “I trust you with my life” kind of way. These two crave contact, and you see it in all the tiny little gestures between them.

Elrond's hands stop shaking as soon as he touches her arms, her hands. His eyes never leave her. He stays even when she's being reckless or stubborn. He cares about her.

Galadriel feels safe enough to relax her guard in front of him, she feels safe enough to cry in his arms, to rely on him. She cares about him.

So now imagine Sauron in his clever little “I’m gonna manipulate this situation” mindset. He knows Galadriel IS close to Elrond, that she trusts him, feels safe with him. That her and Elrond are each other's safe haven.

Maybe just maybe, by appearing with those same gentle, wavy locks and trustworthy brown eyes, Sauron is trying to tap into that. He knows that if he gives off some Elrond-ish vibes, it might pull at Galadriel's heartstrings. Maybe she’ll see him as a kindred spirit—devoted, loyal, a bit stubborn, just like Elrond.

And boom, she lets her guard down.

Now, obviously, we can say this could be totally platonic. I mean, Sauron could’ve been like, “Hey, I’m just gonna look like this guy because it’s practical.”

But come on… really? This is the dude who’s been lurking in the shadows, scheming for centuries. He knew what he was doing. It’s a classic power move, and he was playing all the angles.

Also, to add to my "he's dedicated" and manipulative thing here... Bro showed he could shapeshift into anyone. Celembribor, Galadriel herself etc.

I find it very funny he chose a look quite close to Elrond.

Also, Sauron’s new look in The Rings of Power is a total departure from what we saw in Season 1.

Gone is that darker, brooding vibe, and instead, we have this version with luscious wavy locks and those big, trusting brown eyes that make him look less like a villain and more like the guy you’d want to confide your deepest secrets to over a cozy fire. It’s almost comical and so very tragic how different he appears, and it feels like he’s channeling some Elrond-esque softness, (probably) because he’s totally seen Galadriel's heart and mind.

Did Sauron take a look into her thoughts and see how close she’s getting to Elrond?

I mean, come on, the kiss (purely platonic or NOT), the forehead touches, the longing looks: they're there for each other. They care about each other. They, on some level, love each other.

And he hates that.

And taps into it because he KNOWS that's what she craves.

Knows that's her safe haven, that Elrond is her safe haven.

It’s no wonder Sauron decided to ditch the scruff of the beard! He probably thought, “Hey, if I’m going to win her over, I need to look more approachable, more relatable. Maybe a bit softer. Oh look, why not take a look close to her bestfriend-” But let’s not kid ourselves; he’s still a far cry from being that sweet, caring dude he could never be.

But Elrond is.

Now, Sauron's like this charming, handsome stranger that’s trying too hard to be good. It’s like he’s thought, “What would Elrond do?” and went all-in on the “deceptive warmth” strategy.

He’s not just trying to fool Galadriel into seeing him as a hero; he’s playing up all those traits that resonate with her—loyalty, devotion, and that stubborn spirit she admires in Elrond. The shift feels strategic; Sauron has his finger on the pulse of her emotions, and he’s using it against her.

You can’t help but think he’s probably mulling over the fact that Elrond’s presence in her life is like this shadow looming over him. That Elrond is everything he, Sauron, cannot be for Galadriel.

That he will never be this for her.

The connection they share must just gnaw at him, knowing that Galadriel is reminiscing about those moments of intimacy, feeling all the warmth that comes from Elrond, that whatever happens she has him. Elrond.

So, what does Sauron do? He mirrors that closeness, trying to evoke those same feelings, all while wearing that new, softer look to lure her in. He's got his finger over her pulse and is ready to crush her with everything Elrond is and that's why Galadriel is devastated because Sauron tried to destroy this image, those qualities.

Tried to destroy Elrond's qualities.

And that's why I absolutely love this ending because the fact is, they have fights yes, but at the end of the day, Elrond and Galadriel still have each other, no matter what.

And it makes him furious.

NB: DM me to get an invite for "A Corner of Rivendell" Elrondriel server!

[carmyberzattosjournal]

Entry 22: Lipstick Prints

Photo: From Pinterest, JAW getting ready for the Golden Globes

Bearblr Promptober Day 22: Costumes

Summary: Carmy's getting ready for a costume party, and he learns he likes his girlfriend's lipstick prints on him. Fluff.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of trauma, mentions of The Devil (Chef David), mentions of Donna Berzatto, Carmy is startled, comfort, fem reader/generic lass who is a trauma surgeon, she/her pronouns. (1,611 words)

Notes: All journal entries will be titled as such and tagged with #cb journal.

Thank you for reading. Thank you to @carmenberzattosgf for putting together this prompt list. Sideblog for commentary and yapping: @m-z-shoroi

Also, if random letters or words are black/white instead of the colors they should be, that's Tumblr being dumb, I've been fighting it for days.

22 Oct 2024

“Fuck me, Bear, you can’t go looking like that,” she said.

Don’t ask me how it happened (okay, maybe it had to do with her confessing that she wants to have children with me, what the fuck is my life), but I decided to accept Darling’s invitation to a costume party that people from her work were putting on. I don’t know, I had a weird sort of confidence that evening.

Had.

I froze while buttoning up my shirt, a sheer black number that I was pairing with a black suit. My stomach lurched. Did I break a social rule? The fuck did she mean, I couldn’t go looking like that?

“I-I’m sorry?” was all I managed to get out.

“I want to eat you.”

Oh. Oh, I suppose that was valid. I felt myself start to shrink, dammit.

Okay, maybe it wasn’t weird confidence. Maybe I was just fucked up enough to do something crazy in some asinine attempt to ward off gnawing guilt from refusing to pick up 3 calls from ma and then refusing to talk to her when Nat wandered into the kitchen with her on the phone. It was eating a hole through me, those stupid little bubbles on my phone and then Sug’s sad eyes. Missed call from Mom. The number of times I thought about blocking her number or deleting it, and then thinking better of it because surely, surely at some point Donna Fucking Berzatto was going to have a crisis bad enough that she’d call me, and I didn’t know if I could live with my guts twisting into knots knowing she—I don’t know—bled out in a car wreck because she was driving drunk again and I just happened to have her phone number blocked at the time.

Only to then not pick up the phone. To just stare at it while it buzzed at me, frozen in space, drowning in flashes of her tear-soaked face, the smell of stale cigarettes, cheap wine, that old, shitty perfume she wore to cover up the smell of booze. That sting from every time she hit me across the face in my agonizing eternity in that house. I would’ve thought I had enough of my shitty little life figured out to at least pretend to want to hear from her, to not care about her emotional manipulation, her gaslighting, listen to her spun stories, get lulled by her laugh only to get bit by her insults. I could certainly do it while I was in New York, so what changed in Chicago?

I hate admitting it, but I was more bulletproof in The Devil’s home.

Maybe it was because he never stopped whipping me. Kept the armor in check, the drawbridges up, the archers at the ready. And then when it stopped, the exhaustion set in.

And when Darling set in, the exhaustion amplified.

“Pretty boy?” She sung.

My attention and gaze snapped to her. Doorway of the bedroom, long plum-colored dress with a black cloak, a little witch’s broom slung over her back. Hood pooled around her shoulders. More eyeliner, darker, brought out the color in her eyes. Black lipstick. Why did I like that so much?

“Hi.”

“Hi. Hey. Sorry,” I mumbled. Raked back my hai—

“No, no, no don’t ruin it!” She hissed. She darted forward, brushed my hand out of the way, and messed with my hair. “It looks gorgeous right now; I wanna try to keep it that way.”

That’s right. She’d tackled my hair with water and some kind of leave-in conditioner or something, so it actually had a curl pattern instead of whatever bird’s-nest bullshit it ended up in from me dragging my fingers through it a thousand times a day. She had her mother of pearl necklace on. One new to me, a fine gold chain with a little medallion, was just barely visible above her cleavage.

She then started adjusting my shirt collar. “I didn’t think you would have something like this.”

“I own nice clothes. Just, uh, don’t have a ton of opportunities to wear them here.”

“No, I mean a sheer black dress shirt.”

“Yeah, I don’t really, um, have an explanation for that…”

She smoothed her hands down my chest. I fought to keep my eyes open. It was a problem now, how fast my eyes would drift shut if she touched me, how hard it was to stay focused on anything when she had her hands on me, or when I could pick up her scent. It wasn’t just that airy vanilla and citrus note either, there was a scent to her skin. Warm, musky, maybe a bit salty like an arid coastal town that barely qualified as coastal except for when the surf was rough, and that saltwater-laden air would drift further inland. It drove me insane.

“I like it,” she murmured, now tracing her thumb over my lips. “Very witchy. And I didn’t have to buy you a shitty costume.”

I hooked her chin, leaned in for a kiss, she pulled back, and—it was entirely instinct, maybe because of the whole phone call situation, maybe because of other past experiences—I jumped back. My heart shot to my throat and my face flooded with heat. Thinking about it now, the only logical reasoning is that I still had the phone ordeal on the brain because I was expecting her to snap at me. Or swing at me. Not once—not a single time, not once, not ever, no matter what happened—never, ever did Darling make me feel unsafe. Never. It’s why I could love her so much. Why I could crumble apart in front of her, why I could crawl to her after taking a beating during service and just lie on the couch with my head on her stomach and her hands in my hair, soul smarting, stinging, sometimes screaming in pain. I was always safe. Darling is safe.

A look of horror flashed on her face.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” It came out as a whisper. “I’m sorry, Carm. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I just didn’t want to get lipstick on you.” She raised her arms a little. Slowly.

And I collapsed into them. She squeezed me—I keep forgetting how fucking strong she is—but the tight hug was needed. Felt like it was holding me together. My heart was still pounding, and it was a million fucking degrees, but I pulled her flush to me, buried my nose in the crook of her neck, and drew in the deepest breath I could, focused on the vanilla, citrus, the warmth. She mumbled apologies repeatedly, pressed her lips to the side of my neck, somehow held me tighter. I wanted to tell her that she’d apologized enough, but words didn’t occur to me. It was honestly just nice to be held. I didn’t realize how badly I’d needed it all day.

“You okay, sweetheart?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Yeah, I’m okay, I just. I dunno, it wasn’t you, it was-it was other stuff today.”

She pulled back to study my face. “I don’t want you to be scared.”

“No, I’m-I’m okay.” I rubbed my eyes. I doubt it helped her feel better. “I just. I wasn’t expecting it is all.”

She leaned to the side. “Oh. I left a print on you.”

I turned and looked in the mirror. There was a black lipstick print on the side of my neck. It wasn’t perfect, a bit smeared from the angle she was at when she left it. The warmth drained from my face. Was replaced with a comfortable coolness.

“I like it,” I declared.

Her reflection arched her eyebrows. “Yeah?”

I stepped closer and studied the print. It still looked identifiably like her lips, dark gray all over with more of a black around the outside edge and a few little lines near the center of the print. Looked almost like an interesting tattoo. It was a strange sort of feeling, the feeling of being claimed, of being marked as hers. She’d been leaving those marks—lipstick prints, hickeys, bites, scratches—in places clothes could easily cover up for months already, but something about the imprint being so plainly visible, unmissable on the side of my neck, it was an addictive prospect.

Fuck, I could get a tattoo of it.

“Yeah,” I breathed. “I-I like it a lot.”

She stroked my cheek with her thumb. Giggled. “Should I start giving you kisses on your neck to take to wo—?”

“Yes.” I met her eyes. “Yes. Please.” Please, leave a mark on me that makes it obvious that I’m yours. Please, Darling, my love, my sweetheart—I need to show people I belong to you. I don’t know why, I’m not interested in knowing why, I just need it to be obvious to anyone and everyone, most of all, to myself, that I am yours.

It took a moment for a wicked grin to appear on her face. She tipped my head back, pressed her lips just to the side of my throat, right over my carotid. I swallowed a pleased sound and tried to ignore the stir of heat in my core—we needed to actually go to this damned party, after all—and was rewarded with a perfect lipstick print on the other side of my neck, visible from the front. She smoothed my shirt over my shoulders. Leaned in to whisper in my ear.

“There. That one’s for you to look at.”

I bit my lip. Nodded.

I was going to wreck her when we got home.