#so it’s a long anxious bus ride

[identitty-dickruption]

so fucking anxious about going to therapy today that I may just not go. fucking. shaking

[orcelito]

Vet appointment this morning

I was literally having stress dreams over it lmao

[cringe--is--dead]

Nekoma Manager Headcanons

To start: talk about chaos.

I imagine the manager!reader as a 2nd year, as stated in my first one shot.

You look up to the third years, though the way you and Kuroo act you'd never admit it to his face.

Once you grow comfortable with the team, and vice versa, the two of you bicker like siblings.

Kai is who you gravitate to the most, he's so calm and quiet, you two grew closer faster because of this.

Yaku and Kuroo were both lowkey jealous; they both work on being doting upperclassmen in their own ways and now their manager is anxious around them? Heartbroken.

The first years think you hung the stars.

Lev is always trying to impress you with his moves, which more than often results in him missing a spike or getting hit in the face with what was supposed to be a receive.

Most of his failed attempts end with Yaku scolding him and you are torn between allowing him to shape his team and stepping in to play peacemaker.

Shibayama is the first team member to confide in you regarding any anxiety they had while playing; he compares himself to Yaku so much that it broke your heart, you two talked and you made him see he had made the team for a reason, and he left feeling much better.

Teshiro is more awkward or shy when approaching you, he may have been a first-year when you met him, but he knew the team hadn't had a manager in a long time. He was worried they might scare you off, specifically one of the... second years... But you stuck around! He liked to be around you, even if neither of you talked all the time, your presence was enjoyable. He also tended to be one of the only members (he and Kai) that didn't get scolded or yelled at.

Inuoka reminds you of a puppy, regardless of being on the team of "cats". He was actually the first member of the team to fully approach you, more than a simple introduction. He was so excited that you were their manager, it definitely helped you feel a lot more comfortable. Did you process everything he said to you? No. Was it endearing as hell? Yes.

If Kenma isn't sitting with Kuroo on bus rides he's sitting with you, you enjoy watching him playing his games, that or he enjoys the peace whenever you nap on the bus. Once he even let you play a game on his switch. Once.

Yamamoto is really excited to show you off at any and all practice matches they have. You're so supportive of them all that it makes him really emotional, and you've learned to just pat his head and walk away. You once showed up to an away game with your nails painted in your team colors and you watched that man genuinely weep.

Fukanaga loves to make you laugh whenever the team's quiet or having a more serious meeting. He learned your humor so fast it's dangerous. You can never be upset around him, he reads you like an open book, and whatever worry follows you around is quickly destroyed by him and his shining personality.

Like I said; you and Kuroo have a sibling like relationship once you're comfortable with the team. He leans his arm against your head like a headrest, you make fun of his attempts of sounding cool. The team finds it hilarious, and other than Yaku and Kenma, you're one of the few people he's terrified to piss off.

Kai is the upperclassman you look up to the most, he's calm and collected, smart and nice. He's everything you strive to be as a student and an upperclassman. He helps you study, he helped you learn about volleyball and all the info that comes with that when you first joined, he made sure to include you in any and all group hangouts when you were new.

Kai supremacy.

Yaku and you have, not to sound like I'm stuck in the 2020 fandom, but "parenting" personalities together. Yaku yells at Lev, you follow behind by telling Lev you two care about him and just want to see him get better! Yaku may worry when a teammate gets minorly injured, but you fret, despite knowing minor injuries occur in this sport. The time where you're on the same page exactly is whenever you take the opportunity to bully Kuroo.

He hates it.

I have to say: years ago when I first got into Haikyuu I made an OC for it, and she was Nekoma's manager. This entire thing is self-indulgent. If I was any good at art I'd have so many comic series with her. Sad.

Also I just saw the movie so I am hyperfocused on my boys.

[celli-ohs]

nepo baby pt.2 | rich ceo's son!nishimura riki x older fem secretary!reader, suggestive, fluffy, sfw, 805 wc

Nishimura Riki notices you before you do him. 

You’re sitting on the couch, scrolling on your phone mindlessly, head looking up every few minutes whenever the barista calls out a name for an order.

Even in the early morning you’re gorgeous. You’re dressed for the day in a form-fitting button up, tucked into a long pencil skirt. You’re subconsciously kicking your feet to the beat of the music playing in the background, your kitten heels bouncing up and down. 

Riki quickly orders his drink, and swiftly takes a seat beside you on the couch, keeping a respectable distance. 

At the sudden arrival of another, you sit up straighter, moving your bag out of the way. “Oh, I’m so sorry-”

You stop when you recognize that familiar smirk.

“Riki,” You smile, relaxing. “What’re you doing here? Are you spying on me?”

Taking the opportunity, Riki scoots closer to you. “Hi, I actually came here for a coffee, but meeting you here was just my luck.” He winks.

You stifle a laugh, finding his flirting cute. 

“Is this place any good? I’ve never been here.” He tries to make conversation. “It’s my favorite in town,” You say, looking around the cozy cafe.

“They do take a bit longer, but it tastes amazing so I think it’s worth it.” You explain. As you begin to tell him how you discovered the place, Riki tries his best to listen to you but everything about you is so distracting, it’s a struggle. 

Your lips look extra delicious today, he wonders what lipstick you’re wearing, he’d love to buy you more in all the colors you wanted.

Your name is suddenly called out, alongside Riki’s. The two of you stop to walk together to the counter, thanking the barista for your drinks.

“I take it you’re also on the way to the office?” Riki speaks up as he holds the door open for the both of you to exit.

“Yes, my bus should be on the way-”

“Forget the bus, let me drive you.” He flashes you his silver keys, and before you know it you’re seated passenger. Riki can’t believe his luck today, it just keeps getting better and better.

The drive is quiet, aside from you occasionally sipping your drink. 

“Thank you for the ride,” You finally speak. 

“Anything for you doll,” He’s grinning. You scoff at him, but he knows you like it when he calls you his. Eventually he pulls into the parking garage, parking in his reserved spot. He races around the back to open your door before you even have a chance to unbuckle.

“Thank you,” You smile as you take his hand, stepping out of his luxury car. Oh the things he’d do to do this every day for the rest of his life.

You two take the elevator up into the office, and Riki starts to feel anxious. This special morning with you felt like a dream come true, and now he’d be forced to wake up and face the harsh reality of a long day at work.

He’s too lost in his own thoughts to notice you’ve been eyeing him since you two entered the elevator. It’s not until you finally step closer and clear your throat, catching his attention again.

Riki looks at you curiously, you’re wearing an abnormal expression: shyness.

“M-May I?” You stutter, gently pointing at him, specifically his tie. It was loose, he hadn’t really noticed since he loathed wearing them. 

But the idea of having your delicate fingers wrapped around his neck interested him more than anything. He nods, allowing you permission almost immediately, even leaning down so you’d have better access.

You take your time adjusting and fixing his tie, wriggling it into place before laying a hand on his chest to press it flat. 

Your touch ignites his skin on fire.

“There.” You nod, before returning to your spot beside him. “Thank you,” He hums, a wide smile adorning his lips. 

“Well, we can't have someone as important as you show up to work in a loose tie,” You try to hide your embarrassment.

Riki begins to nod, of course you’re right.

“Does that mean you’ll fix it for me every morning then?” He asks, just before the elevator arrives at your floor. You step out, turn and send him a cheeky grin.

“If I must.” You sigh jokingly. You love to tease him. “Let’s get coffee together tomorrow too.” He insists.

This time you laugh, and he’s a bit disappointed to see you’re hiding your pretty smile behind your hand.

“I’ll see you later Riki,” You shake your head and the elevator doors close. As the elevator begins to move again, Riki sighs and leans against the wall, smiling like an idiot. 

That wasn’t a no, he thinks, already looking forward to tomorrow morning.

author's note: here's the highly anticipated pt.2! hehe I wrote this one in riki's pov this time. I'm so happy you guys liked my first drabble, but tbh I'm probably gonna end nepo baby here, mainly so I can focus on my other longer works/series. but who knows, maybe I'll come back to this later and write more!

taglist: @crimson-reaper576 @manaah02 @sol3chu

nishimura riki masterlist | kpop masterlist

[denwritesandcries]

Later we'll fall because of this – H.C

Pairing: loser!hazel x fem!reader

Summary: Maybe you should have considered what it actually meant to get in a relationship with Hazel, especially a fake one, before you said yes, because now you're falling deep and deep in it and you don't know what to do.

Word count: 5,5k.

Content: cursing, fake dating, kisses, pining, slightly angst, miscommunication, unhealthy situationships, mentions of blood, hazel sends mixed signs (unknowingly), reader is a LOSER, insecure!hazel, flirting, dumb teenagers.

Note: This shouldn't have taken so long since I had all the story planned already, but august was just… crazy, jesus. Anyway, hope y'all enjoy and thanks for being so patient and supportive with this small series, it really means the world to me.

English is not my first language.

<<

You barely register what happens through the rest of the night, returning home with your head completely flustreaded and your heart pounding in your throat, a goldfish in a fragile plastic bag on your shaking hands and a single text from Isabel when you finally fall into bed.

[josie told me what happened

you're welcome btw]

Well, fuck.

Maybe you should have considered what it actually meant to get in a relationship with Hazel, especially a fake one, before you said yes, because now you’re standing outside the school, nervously clutching the straps of your backpack and not having the courage to go in and face what’s to come.

Still, you do it, because Hazel asked to meet you at your locker before classes started and ignoring her now would just be rude – as if you could ignore her in the first place – so you put your head up and walk down the halls feeling like everyone is staring at you.

And she’s waiting just like she said she would, swaying from foot to foot and seemingly searching for something in the crowd of students. The ear-to-ear grin Hazel gives you when she sees you coming makes your anxiety ease a little.

You greet her a little hesitantly, it’s not like you’ve spoken much since the fair, so you’re not sure how to avoid making things awkward.

Apparently, neither does she, “Hi!” Hazel answers, a little too loudly, before cringing and looking around, as if at any second someone might come along and expose the lie you’re about to tell. Clearing her throat, she starts again, “So, I just wanted to know if it’s okay for me to start walking you between periods now, or— or maybe give you a ride after school, I mean, I know that you usually take the bus but,” Hazel begins to ramble, “I thought that would be more convincing, since, you know, that’s what couples do and—”

“Haze, it's okay,” you interrupt, resting a reassuring hand on her shoulder instinctively, brushing some lint off the hodie she's wearing to keep yourself from overthinking it, “Yes. For both things. It's not like we've never done that before, right?”

“...Right,” she looks down at your hand where it's rubbing circles on her shoulder, blinking in realization, “You're right!” she groans, “We already do all this stuff, how are people going to buy it if nothing changes between us? How will PJ?” You try to hold grimacing at the mention and Hazel rests her hands in her head in panic, “Fuck. We should've planned this before we got here, I'm a terrible liar.”

You really should have and she really is a terrible liar. Great, now you're getting nervous too. That's what happens when two anxious teenagers decide to do something on impulse. Just great.

“Okay,” you take a deep breath, someone has to take charge here, “Why don’t we just play along today without elaborating on anything for everyone? Then when class is over we can go to my place and plan everything properly together.”

Hazel relaxes a little at your words and nods, “Yeah, yeah. Sounds good,” she clears her throat, “So, I guess we’ll just have to wing it for today then.”

“It was your idea, sweetheart,” you shrug, “We’ll get through this day.”

The first bell rings and Hazel takes on a determined expression, nodding, she turns, gently taking the bag hanging from your shoulder and placing it next to hers, ignoring your confused look to extend a hand to you, “C’mon, we better not be late this time.”

And you go.

It takes a moment for you to absorb the gasps of excitement and surprise that come when you and Hazel enter Mr. G’s class, too busy cataloging the way her hand feels in yours to pay any real attention to your surroundings. Hazel’s hand is cold and a little damp from flutter, you can perfectly feel the outline of the loose rings on your intertwined fingers and it feels simply perfect. It’s different then other times you’ve held hands, as if she wanted to transmite another kind of feeling. As if she wanted to show it off.

Hazel’s voice sounding close to your ear brings you back into the moment, she squeezes your hands together with an excited whisper: “I think it’s gonna work, she’s already looking at us.”

And sure enough, there’s PJ when you look up, sitting on the edge of the seat with her gaze burning into your hands, Josie watching the scene next to her with a raised eyebrow.

There’s also Sylvie and Annie, a bit perplexed but still cheering from their seats, not giving a damn about the students they don’t know coming into the room to actually try to study.

“What is that?” Sylvie slaps her hands on the table excitedly as you sit next to her and Hazel hands you your backpack, “You guys are a thing now? Dude, that’s awesome!”

“So you did listen to me,” Annie nods to Hazel in approval, “I told you that it had better options. Good job, Haze.”

Hazel lets out an awkward laugh, accepting the teasing with a red face and you stand there, shy and a little confused. You didn’t expect them to react so… genuinely happy, as if you hadn’t all been talking about her liking someone else just a few days ago, in fact, you expected a barrage of questions and suspicious looks. Well, who knows, maybe luck was just on your side with that.

(You kick Jeff's chair hard when the teacher isn't looking as you hear him laughing with his stupid friends about "the freak finally getting a girlfriend", giving Hazel an innocent smile when she turns around with a questioning look at the noise.)

The day passed peacefully, with Hazel walking you to every period, rushing to carry your bag and open doors for you, smiling brightly at your nods of approval and making sure to hold your hand at every opportunity.

It was really sweet to have someone do that for you, to try so hard. It made you feel like a schoolgirl in love and sighing in the hallways – which, for what it’s worth, you were – a warm, timid feeling filling your chest every time she came into view. During lunch she put an arm around you, happily chatting with everyone, taking your hand to play with your fingers once PJ was there too. You almost managed to swallow the bitter taste in your mouth and enjoy it fully – almost.

Now you were both leaving, absently commenting on the reactions you had elicited and you're thinking about what topics to cover when you get home to discuss and match stories, you had to make sure you were on the same page.

“Psst,” Hazel calls as you reach her car, opening the passenger door for you and placing a gentle hand on your shoulder to stop you from getting in.

You frown at her upset expression, following her gaze to find the scene she’s staring at the other side of the parking lot.

“Oh,” it’s Josie, Isabel, Brittany, and PJ, of course, but this time with a new addition. The cheerleader Hazel mentioned before, clinging to the arm of a very pleased-looking PJ, “Shit, I’m sorry, Haze.”

Her lips press into a thin line and you feel a pang in your chest at how uncomfortable she is about this, but you can’t say anything because Brittany spots you and waves goodbye as she walks to her own car. And now all of your friends have seen you both too.

“They’re looking,” Hazel mumbles. She seems closer, even though you haven’t heard her approach. Her hand is still holding the door, she's almost leaning over your body.

“I've noticed,” you whisper back. You don't know why your voice suddenly got low, a shiver runs down your spine as you feel her touch moving up your arm.

Hazel leans in even closer, her breath is warm against your face. You gulp.

“She's looking.”

Maybe it was pretty naive, or stupid, that you started dating someone – whether it was fake or not – with the intention of showing it off and not having considered for a second that you would kiss that person, like, actually kiss them. It was just a small detail that your mind chose to so carefully ignore for the sake of your sanity. And that you shouldn't freak out about it, since in theory you've done this before. Still, here you are.

Hazel gets impossibly closer, bringing the hand running down your arm gently to rest on your cheek and you melt in the roughness of her touch, feeling the cold on your warm skin. Your breath hitches as Hazel looks deeply at you, searching for something that she seems to find when you close your eyes in anticipation.

It's all a matter of seconds, but time seems to freeze in the most cliché way when Hazel's lips meet yours for the first time. Her mouth feels warm and soft, a few strands of hair falling through her forehead tickle your face and you can't believe this is real. You swear your heart could explode at any moment with how fast it's beating and it would be totally worth dying for the way you feel right now.

And then when you sigh, about to put a hand on her waist to deepen the kiss, the moment is over and Hazel is pulling away with a little smirk to the driver's side.

You hear Isabel clapping her hands provocatively in the background, but you're too mortified to react in any way other than shakily getting into the car.

What are you doing with your life?

You’re pulled out of your reverie when Hazel stops at a red light, having been silent for most of the short drive, head leaning against the window.

“I’m sorry,” she clears her throat hastily and you look up in confusion, “I— I should’ve asked before kissing you like that. We haven’t talked about this yet, if it was okay or not and I keep doing things without telling you about it. I’m scared I might have crossed the line now ‘cause you still haven’t said a word about it.”

Hazel thinks you’re mad at her. That calm, intense demeanor she seemed to have assumed for a moment is nowhere to be found and you notice the way her hands nervously grip the steering wheel, doing everything she can to keep from looking at you directly. Hazel thinks you’re mad at her, when in fact it couldn’t be more opposed to it.

It’s just that you can’t stop thinking about the kiss. The feeling of her lips lingers on yours like a ghostly touch as the scene replays in your mind over and over.

And you’re bubbling inside. It’s a new thing you never seriously believed you’d share with her one day. In your most vulnerable moments, you knew your fantasies about kissing Hazel were nothing more than that. The real thing, however, was different than what you imagined. All-consuming, completely addictive, and it left you shocked, disturbed.

Because you wanted more.

How could you experience having all of this only for reality to knock on your door and you realize it wouldn’t be for as long as you wanted? You wondered how it would end after this.

You were fucked.

“No! I'm not mad at you!” You exclaim, trying not to turn into a mess, “You didn't cross any line. It's just that, uhm…” your body seems to heat up from your face to your chest in embarrassment. How do you tell someone you just had your first kiss when it all happened like it was nothing? “It was sudden and I… well— I've never kissed anyone before that.”

You said the wrong thing.

“What?”

“Haze.”

Hazel seems to freeze for a moment, eyes wild and nostrils flaring, the exact expression of someone who is about to freak out. Her face turns evidently red.

“What?”

You rush to stop the spiral she's in: “Haze, it's okay. It's no big deal, seriously.”

“I— I stole your first kiss?” She's completely panicked now, “Oh my god, Y/N, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.”

You don’t know how to tell her that apologies only make you feel bad, that you wish it wasn’t a regret for her, because after all it wasn’t one for you.

“Sweetheart, please,” you try again, instinctively placing your hand on her arm, “It’s alright. It was good, I can’t think of anyone else who would have treated me so gently like that. And you didn’t know, okay? It wasn’t on purpose.”

Hazel gulps, clearly drowned in guilt, her gaze dropping to where your hand is touching her and back to your face, suddenly shy. You pull away as if you’ve been burned, but neither of you can say anything because what feels like the longest red light in history finally turns green and a car behind you honks and swears loudly.

She clears her throat, turning back to driving:

“I still should have asked anyway.”

You snort: “If you had asked me, I still would have said yes.”

“Oh, okay.”

As if you couldn’t make things any more weirder. Great.

Hazel looks flustered and desperate to break out of the tension that’s settled over the car:

“But,” she mumbles in a perplexed tone, “What about that time you and Sylvie got locked in the pantry on Stella’s birthday? I thought…”

Maybe at this point you should just jump out of this moving car and buy a shovel, since you’re so spectacularly good at digging your own grave.

“We promised to never talk about that again.”

“Right.”

You both only speak again once you’re back in your room and you end up snapping with Hazel when all she does is sit on the bed with her eyes stuck on the floor, a whirlwind of thoughts so obvious in her head that you can almost hear them. You end up stuttering something like ‘you said you’d come over so we could talk and now you’re going to spend the whole time in silence?’

Hazel still looks very uneasy, as if she expects you to change your mind and yell at her at any minute, but she relaxes a little when she notices you letting her guide the conversation at her own pace.

You decide to formulate a simple story just in case your friends decide they want details and ask about it. Yes, you’ve just gotten together a couple days ago; Yes, you’ve liked each other for a long time and were just too much of a coward to admit it; No, you haven’t been on your first official date (yet). Basic and realistic, nothing that would raise suspicions or that you could end up messing, because if there was one thing you knew for certain in all this time knowing each other, it was that Hazel was terrible at sustaining acts for long.

Hazel also makes a point of asking you thousands of times what was okay or not in terms of PDA, checking you for any sign of discomfort that might be being omitted – you said that everything was fine, as long as she asked you or gave some sign first, which she swore she would do.

It's only when Hazel is gathering her things to leave that you ask perhaps the most important question about everything, watching her put the bag on her shoulder and push the hair out of her eyes. She looks beautiful.

"How long do you think this will last, Haze?"

She hums, a little uncertain and suddenly thoughtful: "Until it works out, I guess? I think we'll just have to make sure that it happens fast," she licks her lips, "I... I'll make it up to you for this, okay? For all of this.”

You mumble an agreement, staring at her as she says goodbye and walks away.

You feel too anxious to sleep, your heart pounding against your throat irritably as you roll restlessly over the blankets once more. You come across your desk, where the aquarium with your goldfish swims in circles. Poor thing, you should give it a bigger house, maybe with a den to hide in, just like you want to do now.

You can't stop reliving the moments of the day, every second spent with Hazel comes right back to you. Hands holding, gentle acts, soft gazes, the kiss. The goddamn kiss.

You ponder for a long moment if it would be worth it to enjoy what would come next if PJ actually made a move and you had your fake breakup – which would probably hurt like a real one – so that Hazel would be free to move on. Would you be happy for her? You weren't sure.

You weren't sure of much, but just thinking about them being together in the hallways, acting and touching like you just did a few hours ago for the rest of the year until graduation makes you sick. Would you still be as close as you are now? It might be a little awkward being friends with your ex, especially if her current partner kind of hates you already.

Sighing, you reach for your phone on your desk, scrolling through it to find a spam of texts in your group chat with your friends. You snort, of course they wouldn't stay quiet after the parking lot scene, as if they would miss out on gossip like that.

10 unread messages

annie (with an I)

[guys I've heard the gays gave a show in the exit today]

britt-britt

[they did but y/n wont answer any of my texts and its been hoursss

omg do you think they died on the way back??]

annie (with an I)

[what??? no. definitely not]

slaylvie

[oh maybe she's just too busy with her NEW GIRLFRIEND

stealing the girl all to ysf that was such a queen move fr]

isabeautiful

[she's probably just ignoring us britt it's not like she can't read or smth]

britt-britt

[u sure?

oh ur probably right

wait can u read y/n or are you like that one lady from glee]

Y/N silenced the group.

slaylvie

[now that's just fckng rude.]

You definitely won't reply to anything after this long and chaotic day, especially not about the subject you want to get off your mind, instead, you huff and open the private chat with Isabel after seeing the proud text she sent earlier.

[you've planned all of this since the beginning, didn't you?]

She replies in the next second:

[you only realized it now?]

Hazel keeps her promise of what she said about making it up to you and the next few weeks are uneventful. It’s almost natural how your routine adapts quickly to the new things.

Holding hands in the hallways, sticky notes with sweet words stuck on your locker, good morning and good night texts, arms around each other when you sit down at lunch or at the club, kisses – even though they don’t happen as often as you would like – Isabel even manages to convince you to go on a double date soon and even though Hazel makes a point of touching you or talking loudly about your plans whenever PJ’s around, she doesn’t whine about it to you anymore, which strangely feels like a victory.

A very short-lived victory, since you end up with a chapped lip because of it.

You honestly hadn’t seen it coming. It was just another afternoon of club practice, your meetings had been cut short for a while – the school had to punish you somehow after Huntington – and you’d finally gotten back into the swing of things with the fighting and the exercises and no one had gotten hurt besides a few bruises on their wrists.

Until PJ declared that she would be your partner.

You’d noticed how she’d been acting lately, responding to everyone in her typical passive-aggressive way and glaring at you with a sour expression whenever Hazel was around and finding excuses to touch her whenever possible, a result of all your displays of affection and the gossiping your friends were sure to do when you weren’t hearing.

You thought Hazel would be pleased with this since it was a sign that the plan was working, but she seemed oddly uncomfortable, bringing up the subject less and less. In fact, you’re pretty sure there was once or twice when she simply took your hand and led you somewhere else.

Maybe that gave your stupid heart the false hope you tried so hard not to cling to and made you sigh even more lovingly when you laid eyes on her and it's likely that you weren't the only one who noticed it.

That could explain PJ's loud steps approaching with her fists clenched at her sides as you, Isabel and Hazel tried to reach a consensus on which ice cream shop to go to next weekend, waiting for Josie to finish her round from where she was furthest away to vote too, and it explains her insistence even after you lied and said you had already agreed to go against Annie later – which was also a bad idea, that girl knows how to do more than just throw a few punches.

She didn't take no for an answer and even Hazel seemed hesitant to let you go, pulling you close and trying to convince PJ that maybe it would be better if she went to help some new members with their moves. It didn't work, of course, but the concern in her voice melted your heart a little.

So you've ended up in a circle with your teammates cheering loudly and the first punch that hits you makes your head snap to side with a loud crack, your gaze falling on Mr. G, engrossed in his phone at the back of the court.

Well, you think, at least your funeral won't happen without the supervision of a – partially – responsible adult.

You hit back just as hard as she did, but you end up lying on your back on the mat in pain anyway, listening to your teammates, oblivious to the tension, congratulate PJ on her easy win. Damn, she really took all her amassed anger out on you.

“Are you okay?” Hazel’s worried face fills your vision and you groan as she gently pulls you to sit up, cupping your face gently, “You’re bleeding.”

“I’ll live,” you joke, but she doesn’t seem to find it funny, tilting your chin up to inspect it better, lips pressed into a thin line.

Suddenly, you saw PJ approaching with an expression that failed to not look proudly – if the little smirk on the corner of her mouth said anything – even with the bruises forming that you left on her, she leaned over and patted Hazel on the shoulder, making a provocative comment that you didn't bother to pay attention to, as if she expected Hazel to congratulate her too and that was enough for her expression to change completely. Her forehead furrowed, her nose twitched in disbelief and you could feel the way her hands shook a little with pent-up anger where they descended to your shoulders.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

Both you and PJ widened eyes, not expecting the explicit bite in her voice. It was unbelievable that Hazel would be rude to anyone, much less to the shocked girl in front of her.

PJ didn’t seem to really understand why there would be anything wrong with what she just did and that almost made you feel bad for her, but anyone should know better than to tease a stressed-out Hazel.

She coughs, clearly embarrassed:

“Jeez! You never know how to take a joke,” she holds up her hands in placation, looking indignant, before fixing her eyes on you, “We were just playing, it was fun, right?”

If you were less petty, maybe you would have nodded and moved on for the sake of your crush’s potential dream relationship but honestly? It’s hard to give a fuck about any of those things when you think about how swollen and bruised your face will be on the day you’re supposed to have the closest thing to a cliché, cute date before graduation.

“For you, maybe.”

She rolls her eyes and looks like she wants to say something else, but Josie comes over and quickly wraps an arm around her shoulders, apologizing and dragging her away to avoid any further discussion with a grimace on her face. It’s only then that you notice the curious looks of your friends at the scene.

Hazel takes a deep breath, biting her lip nervously and looking suddenly embarrassed, before moving to help you up.

“C’mon,” she clears her throat, “Let’s take care of you.”

Hazel is upset.

She hadn’t been quiet for a single second the entire time you’d arrived at the infirmary, having spent the entire journey there mumbling incoherently. Now she had one hand firmly resting on your knee on the stretcher she’d insisted you take, while the tired-looking nurse tried to explain that none of your injuries were serious enough for anything more than bandages and an ice pack – which you’d already tried to tell Hazel, but to no avail.

“Are you sure she’s okay?” she asked for the millionth time, and you could practically feel the effort the nurse was making not to sigh.

“Yes.” She replied, pulling a box of kids' band-aids from her uniform pocket to give it to you, “She didn’t hit her head when she fell, did she? So all you have to do is clean up the blood and wait for the cuts to heal.”

“Okay, hm-hm,” Hazel nods quickly, effectively dismissing the nurse, “I can do that.”

This time the nurse does sigh and give up, mumbling about not getting paid enough before leaving the room – definitely to get a moment away from the annoying teenagers she's seeing all day – and then you’re alone.

Hazel finally goes quiet and her face scrunches up in concentration as she grabs a damp cloth so she can wipe away the red staining of your face and something twists in your stomach.

She hasn’t spoken directly to you since you left and something twists in your stomach at that.

She’s mad at me, you think.

It was obvious that you couldn’t control yourself, painfully obvious that something was going to happen and that you were going to ruin everything because of your temper and your inability to keep your mouth shut. You made this bed, now it’s time to accept the fact that, first, you suck at making beds, and, second, you have to lie in it. Both figuratively and literally. Well, it's a stretcher, but still.

“I'm sorry, Haze,” you say regretfully, holding her hands working on your face in place so she stops and turns her attention back to you.

“Hm?” She lifts her head looking surprised, as if only then remembering you were there too, “For what?”

You look away embarrassed, biting the inside of your cheek: “I didn't mean to ruin things with PJ back there, I know that she was finally doing something and…”

“Wait,” her eyes widened, “Wait, wait, wait, you think I'm mad at you?”

You blink, hesitant: “You're not?”

“No, of course not!” Hazel grabs your shoulders frantically, “You just got beat up, why would I be mad at you?”

You shrug wordlessly, feeling a weird sensation of a deja-vú and Hazel releases you to rest her hands on the stretcher in exasperation.

“Oh, man,” she sighs. “I'm angry with PJ for what she did and I'm angry at myself for letting it happen.”

“But… I thought you'd like that she got jealous,” you fidget, confused, “She finally made a move, right?”

“Not like that! How would I be happy with her getting so possessive that she decided to take it as an excuse to hit you?” Hazel asks incredulously, looking at you like she's tired of even thinking about it, “That was completely out of line, this is not a PG13 gay version of After.”

You freeze for a second before bursting into laughter, ignoring the burning sensation on your lip that the action causes, and Hazel sits down next to you, seemingly satisfied that she’s wiped the worry from your face.

“Ugh, I don’t know,” she groans, running a hand through her hair looking lost.

“Don’t know what, sweetheart?” you turn to her, shoulders touching.

Hazel shakes her head as if trying to push away the thoughts that are bothering her, busying herself by opening one of the bandages for you:

“If I still want this,” she starts hesitantly, “I thought I wouldn’t mind if she kept being mean to me every now and then as long as she showed me that she liked me more, but I— I don’t want that to happen if it’s hurting you. I don’t want to be with someone who would hurt you.”

Your throat is dry. Hazel looks up to catch your eye and places the bandage on a cut on your chin, her hand stays there and you can hear your heart pounding against your ears.

Does she mean…? You're breathing fast, her face is so close to yours that you can feel the heat radiating from her skin. This has to be a dream or some kind of bad joke, maybe you did hit your head and are in a coma right now. You swear everything is in slow motion and there's a cheesy song playing deep inside of your mind. God, if only you hadn't fallen so hard.

You think back to all the moments you've shared so far, years and years of touching and spending time together, learning details about each other and trying to think of the part you missed when Hazel started looking at you like that, does she even know she's doing it? You think, searching deep in your memories, how could you miss that?

Maybe it was earlier this week, when she came up to you happily skipping and handed you a paper flower with the utmost pride she could muster that she had made it herself, because 'You said you always wanted to receive flowers, but you didn't say what kind, so I made you a special one.’

Or days ago, when she started leaving silly little notes stuck to your stuff, even though you saw her all the time; ‘see u later!’ in messy handwriting, ‘have a good day’ scrawled with a cartoon taped to the cover of your math notebook, ‘i'll be thinking of u’ on the locker door she just left you in, a stupid pun written in neon marker just because.

Was it before that? When she kissed you then? Before? Long before?

“Haze,” you call.

When did the possibility of her loving you become real?

“I thought I wanted it,” Hazel murmurs, “But I'm not sure anymore.”

She's going to kiss you. There's no one around now and she's going to kiss you because she wants it, not to show off. And you want it too, more than anything.

You move your hand to find purchase on her chest, grabbing a fistful of the shirt she's wearing. Your noses are brushing now, Hazel’s eyes narrow and you can almost taste her.

Then the nurse walks into the room, dropping the papers she was carrying when she sees the scene and the moment is completely lost.

She shoos you both out of the room, no matter how many stammered excuses you try to give her and you and Hazel trade shocked looks alone in the hallway before laughing as hard as you never did. The sound fills your ears, it’s completely divine. You laugh and laugh and laugh and you’ve never felt so happy, feeling your stomach flutter with butterflies when you feel her hand brush against yours, that she’s still here.

The laughter stops as it steals your breath – it wasn’t the only thing that stole it – and you feel cold where your skin was warm just a second ago, turning your head to find her a few feet away from you.

“Are you alright?” You ask, smiling, feeling light, as if you weighed the same as the paper flower stored in your bag.

She stares at you, hair messy, face red, clothes wrinkled and eyes full of emotion that you can't distinguish with how quickly they pass. You wonder what she's gonna do, if she's going to press you against the wall and kiss you here in this hallway like she wanted before, if she's going to take your hands and tell you that she wasn't sure about things, but wanted to find out with you. Another emotion flashes in her eyes as she takes another step back, the only one you can recognize: regret.

Hazel turns and runs away from there. She leaves.

Luck has been on your side for a long time during all of this, so of course at some point everything would end up going wrong. And you, of course, would end up in the crossfire.

[daddyslilchickenfingers2]

Kinktober (reuploaded)

Thigh Riding (Matt)

Request: None

Warnings: Sub Matt, short, besties to lovers, clingy/needy Matt, subspace, whining, begging, just overall super submissive Matt, kind of anxiety subspace

Y/n’s pov

These last two weeks I have been super busy with work, and Matt who’s used to having my attention 90% of the day, is feeling neglected. I’m not doing it on purpose, I’m letting him sit in my room with me during my meetings or playing with his hair while I’m on a phone call but that’s not enough. I’ve even started editing in Matt’s room so I could spend more time with him. Matt’s my best friend, he just so happens to be super clingy towards me, now that Chris has a girlfriend. He also suffers from severe anxiety so sometimes he falls into a subspace and gets super clingy like a toddler to their mother.

Marylou had told me that Matt’s been like that his whole life, his brain just scrambles. He needs to be told what to do and praised or else he gets really sad/anxious and starts to cry. Knowing this is why I try to spend as much time with him as possible when he’s in his subspace. Today was a bit different though, as Matt openly admitted to everyone this morning that he was feeling ‘submissive and horny’ without a warning. Chris and I laughed while Nick just sat there uncomfortably until they finished their breakfast and both brothers left for the day.

Matt was really needy today, constantly wanting my attention and following my every move. He said he was tired so I went up to his room with him to edit some pictures and thumbnails while he slept. That was short-lived though, as 5 minutes later, Matt was asking to sit on my lap. This was new, but nonetheless, I agreed, letting him sit on my lap while I worked until he got uncomfortable and shifted to one of my thighs. This position was a bit awkward considering he was only wearing boxers and a tshirt, I was wearing the same but I had shorts instead of boxers.

I moved my leg under him and Matt let out a loud gasp that I just ignored until he experimentally moved his hips forward. “Matt, what are you doing?” I questioned, he let out a whimper as he rolled his hips forward again. “C-Can you have sex with me?” he asked, I was shocked to say the least. It’s not that I didn’t want to have sex with Matt, because quite frankly I did. It’s that I’m busy and he’s not in the right headspace, I’m not going to take advantage of that now that he finally trusts me enough to be as vulnerable with me as he is to his mom and Chris.

I thought of a way to let him down gently so he wouldn’t cry, “I’m sorry Matty, I can’t. I’m really busy today, how about I leave for a little bit and you can jack off?” I said softly. I gauged his face for any signs of sadness but he was more so upset. He was still essentially grinding on my thigh in a way while whining because I said no. “Bu-But please?” he tried again, “Not today baby, I’m sorry” I said to him again, “Can I- Uh can I-“ he started.

“Can you what? You gotta use your words” “Can I ride your thigh? Please?” he begged, shoving his hand into his boxers and readjusting his cock. I figured there’s no harm in letting him use my thigh, as long as we’re both clothed, it should be fine. Sighing, I clicked save on my laptop and stood up, picking Matt up and putting him on his bed. He looked at me with wide eyes, “A-Am I in trouble?” he asked nervously, “No, I’d just rather sit on your bed, c’mon you can ride my thigh if you keep your clothes on” I explained.

He excitedly got back on my thigh, fixing his cock so the head was pressed right against my thigh, taking on a lot of his body weight as well so there was more pressure on it. He started moving his hips, whining at the new feeling he’d discovered. “Touch me?” he asked, I cupped his face and lightly stroked his jaw. “I’m sorry Matty, I can’t do that” I said softly causing Matt to loudly whine. “Just to help me move. Pleeeaase?” he dragged out.

I gave in, agreeing that I would hold onto his hips or waist to help him move faster. I could feel Matt’s dick rubbing on my thigh and not gonna lie, it turned me on. Matt had his hands on his thighs as he essentially humped my thigh, “Fuck! This feels so good! Wish you would touch me Y/n/n, so badly” he moaned out. “I know Matty, I’m sorry. You’re doing so well by yourself though” I praised him. He started to move faster, swiveling his hips a few times and moaning.

Matt must be really sensitive because he was already whimpering and acting like he was close. “Are you gonna cum Matt?” I asked seductively, “Y-Yes, s-so close, can I cum in my pants? Is that okay?” he inquired, breathlessly. “Go ahead baby” I said and Matt started moving faster. He moved his arms to my shoulders and hid his face in my neck, moaning at the pleasure. Matt’s hips sputtered and he moaned loudly in my ear as he came, a lot of his cum ended up leaking through his boxers and onto my thigh but I didn’t mind. I started rubbing Matt’s back while he came down from his high, panting in my ear and holding onto my shoulders tightly.

“Do you feel better now Matty?” I asked him softly, only getting a simple hum back before he pulled away from my neck. He looked so fucked out and I didn’t even do anything to him, Matt got off my thigh and instantly frowned, “I made a mess” he pouted. It really wasn’t even that bad, he just needed to change his boxers and I needed to wipe my leg off but to him, it seemed very important. “It’s okay, I can get us cleaned up baby” I smiled down at him, and to my surprise, Matt leaned down and started licking his own cum off my thigh, it was pretty hot.

“Wha-“ I started but Matt was already done, “Was I a good boy?” he asked with pleading eyes, “Yes Matty, you were very good” I praised, making him smile widely. He made his way off the bed and quickly changed his boxers as I walked back over to his desk, but he stopped me by hugging me from behind. I turned around to properly hug him and kiss the top of his head, “Thank you” he smiled happily “You’re welcome handsome” I smiled back. Matt pulled away from the hug and went over to his bed, “I’m going to take a nap now, can you still stay in here please?” he asked while getting under the covers. “Yes, I’ll stay. Goodnight Matty” I replied, “Goodnight” he mumbled back, already falling asleep while I went back to my editing.

Taglist: @angelic-sturniolos111 @biimpanicking @biplrbtch @chrisolivia4l @christinarowie332 @chr1sgirl4life @creamoncreamoncream2 @delimeats-000 @devthepoet @ermdontmindthisaccount @flowerxbunnie @fionaheartswomen @gilbertscurls @heartsforchrisandmatt @iheartchrissturniolo @ilovemattsturn @its-jennarose @justaslvttygirl @kvtie444 @lustfulslxt @luvysworld @meg-sturniolo @m6ttsturniolo @mangosrar @mangoposts @meerkatzthings @mattsnutsack @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @recklesssturniolo @solarsturniolo @soursturniolo @strniohoeee @strawberrysturniolo @sturniolocoded @sturniofilmd @sturniolohoe @sturniolopepsi @sturniolo0ntop @thecynthh

All work is subject to copyright

©Daddyslilchickenfingers2 2024

Do not steal, use, or reupload my work

[tenelkadjowrites]

Everyday at the Bus Stop ♡ - Seonghwa x Reader (NSFW)

🚌 Summary: Your crush on fellow passenger, Seonghwa, changes into something new the day the bus breaks down.

🚌 Word count: 9k

🚌 Genre and warnings: one shot smut. fem pronouns for reader. oral sex. unprotected sex. creampie. 

🚌 Tags: @thewonderofkpop - @obligatoryidolblog - @yunhofingers - @foggyinternetchaos - @multiland - @whatudowhennooneseesyou - @jess-1404 - @just-here-to-read-01 - @likexaxdaydream - @senpai-of-doom - @lilhwahwa - @btsreader12 - @talkbykhalid - @hwasrie-main - @inneratinyrebel - @8tinytings - @cherrypandora - @xirenex - sorry if i missed anyone.

this fic is not meant to represent seonghwa in any way, shape or form.

Monday

              You glance at the time on your phone, tapping your foot impatiently. Having already been sitting on the bus for over an hour, you are anxious to get home from work. The day is endless, your feet hurt, and all you want to do was crawl into bed.

               But of course the bus, which moved at the glacial pace of a snail on a good day, now found itself stuck in traffic. Slumping lower in your seat, you exhale slowly, rummaging through your bag to find your headphones. This ride is more boring than usual because he isn’t here, you think sullenly. You aren’t sure how many other people had a Bus Crush to pass away the time but yours didn’t show up today.

               You wonder if he’s sick. Or maybe something worse – he got a different job and didn’t have to take this bus any longer. That would be just your luck. In the past year, he had been at your bus stop every evening. His stop was somewhere after yours because he remained when you left.

               Bus Crush was gorgeous, the sort of ethereal beauty that seemed to exist only in magazines, not public transportation. He would sit down in the same spot every trip, pull out a book and read quietly to himself. No headphones to block out the drone of the bus, just taking the full brunt of the loud engine and traffic noises himself. He usually wore some of the most stylish, well put together clothes you’ve ever seen. His hair was as black as his painted nails. He typically wore one silver earring that would dangle and sway with each bump of the bus, occasionally catching the evening light. His jaw, well defined as if cut from marble, matched his equally picturesque cheekbones and his lips were always perfectly plump and a nice shade of pink. You knew literally nothing about him, not even his name.

               But you knew he was gorgeous, you knew he was the hottest person you’ve ever seen, and you knew that if he ever glanced in your general direction, you would probably faint on the spot.

               Still…not having him around made the bus trip worse than usual.

               With a small sigh, you close your eyes, hit play on the music and try to zone out.

 Tuesday

               You recognize his silhouette before he even comes into clear view. He is standing at the bus stop, waiting patiently for it to arrive. Today, he wears a coat made of a thin pale blue material with his hands shoved into the pockets, his face tilted in the direction of where the bus would pop into view. The other people at the spot vanish in front of your eyes as relief hits you that he is here today and yesterday had been a fluke. Maybe he really was sick or something, you think, shuffling towards the overhang, sneaking an extra glance at him.

               Bus Crush doesn’t notice but an older lady that is at the stop every Tuesday and Thursday does, ducking her head to hide her smile. Fine, so maybe it is evident to other people that you are admiring him but as long as he never notices you exist, does it matter? Such beauty like his is impenetrable anyway.

               The bus arrives on time and you trail in after Bus Crush just to catch a little bit of his cologne which always smells faintly of the woods. You wonder what he does all day, you wonder why he is always on the stop just like you. You know the answer is most likely something benign like work or school but some days your imagination gets away from you, resulting in fantastic scenarios being created.

               All the regulars slip into the usual spots. If one of their spots is taken, they simply take the one closest to it. Your seat is near the window but also offers a good view of Bus Crush’s profile. Sinking down into your seat, you watch as Bus Crush pulls the book out of his coat pocket. His thin and slender fingers find the bookmark, opening to the page. The book is well worn as if it has been read a thousand times.

               Things are back to normal. Bus Crush has returned to his spot, reading quietly, and you are in yours, sneaking glances at him. Just how it should be.

 Wednesday

               All you want to do is get home and go to sleep. Having slept badly the night before, work today killed the little spirit remaining. That explains why, when your bus stop comes around, you scamper out of your seat, anxious to get home.

               It also explains why you aren’t paying attention to much, including your things. You are almost at the exit of the bus when a voice slices through the sound of the bus engine idling.

               “Wait, miss,” Someone calls out and you hesitate, slowing down and glancing over your shoulder.

               To your amazement, it is Bus Crush speaking. At first, the idea that his words are directed at you seem ridiculous. Why would he talk to you now? But as he moves forward, it hits like brunt force to the chest that he is looking at you.

               He wears a black button up with a small black jacket today, the silver earring dangling with each step. His shoes are polished, same with the silver belt buckle wrapped around his slender waist. Dazed, you watch as Bus Crush stops in front of you. He is saying something but your brain feels as if it has been submerged underwater and everything is hazy.

               “What?” You manage to say, trying not to focus on the fact that his skin is literally perfect – how the hell does he manage that feat?

               Bus Crush looks downward and your gaze follows. In the palm of his hand is your cellphone.

               “You left this behind in your seat,” He repeats himself.

               How are his eyelashes that long? Your brain is refusing to cooperate, leaving you to languish in front of the most intense crush you’ve ever had in your life. You can’t deal with the fact you are standing this close to Bus Crush or that he is speaking directly to you.

               He raises his eyes to meet yours. The gaze is electric and the seconds turn into hours. Gone is the bus noise, the vibrations underneath your feet, the tinny music being blasted out of someone’s headphones, the sounds of someone talking way too loudly on the phone. The entire universe is now located at this very spot.

               “T-thanks,” You manage to say, reaching for your cellphone.

               “No problem,” He replies – his voice is deeper than you thought it would be, sexier than it needed to be. Couldn’t the universe cut you a break in some area and make his voice sound like a chipmunk or something?

               You take your phone out of his hand. Your fingers brush against his warm skin, marveling at how soft it is before it all becomes too much – Bus Crush looking at you with an expression that is unreadable, the fact you are convinced your adoration of him is written all over your face, and the bus driver staring daggers at you for holding things up.

               “Thanks,” You repeat, taking a step back and then turning around, fleeing the bus as if it were on fire, leaving Bus Crush behind.

               It isn’t until halfway down the block you realize that in order for him to notice your phone had been left behind, he would have needed to be paying attention to you.

 Thursday

               He isn’t coming today, you think while staring at the bus doors which are going to close at any second. You don’t know if it is relief or disappointment that you’re feeling about Bus Crush not being here again this week. The interaction from yesterday has been playing in your mind repeatedly even when you wish that it wouldn’t. Just why are you dwelling on two seconds of attention from Bus Crush makes you feel embarrassed –

               And then, right as the doors are about to close, Bus Crush hurries through, apologizing to the driver. He is clutching his bag to his chest, slightly out of breath from running. His cheeks are flushed with colour, lips parted a little. Today, a black and white checkered coat hangs off his shoulders, wearing a black button up with silver buttons and a pair of slacks. A thin silver chain is around his dainty neck and a small black hat rests on his head. As usual, he looks too stylish and well put together for the setting but doesn’t seem to be aware of it.

               His eyes land on you. Something flickers across his face and his shoulders straighten as if coming to a decision. Then he walks down the aisle – and doesn’t stop at his seat. Instead, he stops in front of yours.

               “Would it be okay to sit next to you?”

               Confused, all you do is gawk at him. His seat is available. Why does he want to sit next to you? But the bus driver is glowering as the doors close so you nod hastily, squeezing out of the seat to allow Bus Crush to move into the middle seat.

               Plopping back down, acutely aware that at some point in time you have entered The Twilight Zone, you stare at the back of the seat in front of you. Bus Crush puts his bag down in the window seat, taking his hat off and shaking it out, running his fingers through his black hair.

               “Work ran late cuz of a meeting,” He says – to you, apparently, seeing as he angles his body slightly towards yours, “Almost missed the bus.”

               What the fuck is going on? You wonder. Did I fall today and this is all some dream from a really bad concussion? Why is he talking to me as if this is normal?

               Something must show in your face because Bus Crush ducks his head, a little embarrassed, and extends his hand. “Sorry. I’m Seonghwa. Sometimes I forget we haven’t talked because I see you everyday at the bus stop.”

               You automatically reach for his hand, driven by pure societal instincts, and are floored by the sensation of his skin against yours. In fact, it is so overwhelming that the handshake lasts approximately the length of your name before you pull away.

               Bus Crush, no wait, Seonghwa leans back in the seat, his hat resting in his lap. You struggle to find something to say but it is hard to wrap your head around the fact that he is sitting there talking to you. His fingers curl around the hat almost as if he is nervous himself but that would be impossible. His fingernails, still painted black, match the hat as he absentmindedly rubs the fabric a little.

               “You, uh, usually read, right?” You say and immediately regret it. Talk about plastering a big neon sign over your head that you watch him on the bus. You want to facepalm or maybe melt onto the floor but instead you just remain expressionless. Wow, nailed it, you think sarcastically.

               Seonghwa’s eyes widen ever so slightly as he nods. “I do, yeah. It’s about the only time I can get any reading done.”

               “I can hardly focus on this thing. That’s why I just listen to music.”

               “Well, don’t let me stop you,” He gestures towards your bag, “I’m content just to read.”

               Next to me? You want to ask but don’t. Bus Crush – damnit, Seonghwa – reaches into his own bag and pulls out the book. It is strange to watch the same process of him opening to his bookmark, long fingers skimming the pages to locate it before settling in his usual position to read.

               The world feels a bit off kilter. Seonghwa is meant to be in his usual spot, not knowing you exist. But here he is, next to you, reading his book quietly. You are trying not to stare but it is proving difficult. The curve of his nose, his jawline, those plump lips –

               Looking away before he catches you gawking at him, you rummage around in your bag for the headphones. Honestly, you don’t want to listen to music but what is the alternative? Staring at him? You want to ask why he is sitting next to you today but you don’t know what sort of answer would make you happy. It is easier to sit in silence than probe the strangeness of today.

               Settling in with the music on, you slump back in the seat. It is impossible not to look at Seonghwa. Your eyes are attracted to him like a magnet. You mentally tick off the new information you have learned about him the last couple of days: what his voice sounds like, what his hands feel like, the fact he works in an office, his name.

               The ride continues like this until your stop arrives. The act of shoving your headphones in your bag draws Seonghwa’s attention. He looks over at you.

               “Don’t forget your phone,” He reminds you gently.

               “Ah, right. I think I was just anxious to get home yesterday. Wasn’t thinking clearly.”

               The bus comes to a stop and you stand up, looking down at Seonghwa. His expression is open, trusting and directed strictly at you. The butterflies in your stomach threaten a riot.

               “See you tomorrow?” You venture, the words sitting here next to me unsaid and hanging in the air.

               He nods, smiling pleasantly. “See you tomorrow.”

               You turn around, exhaling slowly to try to calm down your wild heartbeat, exiting the bus and leaving Seonghwa behind.

 Friday

               Seonghwa isn’t late tonight. He is already at the bus stop when you arrive. He stands straight, his bag strap resting on one shoulder. He wears black slacks with the belt resting on his hips with a thin white button up dress shirt, the top two buttons undone, exposing some of his chest. A black ribbon is gently tied around his neck, forming a small bow on the side opposite of where his silver earring dangles.

               Seonghwa looks beautiful, statuesque and stylish in his outfit as usual. He seems to sense your arrival, turning his head in your direction as you approach. He gives a small wave, his smile showing off his perfectly white teeth.

               “Hi,” You say sheepishly, having not expected Seonghwa to greet you immediately.

               “How are you?”

               “Oh, I’m okay. A little tired. You?”

               “The same.”

               The conversation stalls. He is just looking at you now. Was it your turn to say something? What is there to say? You aren’t sure what is going on between you and Seonghwa. All you can tell is something is shifting, the dynamic turning into…friendship? No, it is too awkward for that. Could it be more than friendship? No, that’s your false hope speaking. For whatever reason, the two second conversation when Seonghwa stopped you from forgetting your phone has altered the dynamic of staring at him as he read his book, knowing he didn’t know you existed. Now, not only did he know but he seemingly wanted to engage.

               The bus pulls up then, saving you the embarrassment of asking a silly question just to fill the air. Everyone piles in, going to their respective spots – except Seonghwa, who sits next to you once again. As usual, he brings his book out, opening it up to read. You want to strike up a conversation about the book but don’t people hate being interrupted when they read? Seonghwa had stated this was the only time he got to read so why take that away from him?

               But you are spared bothering him because instead of reading right away, he asks, “Do you work around here then?”

               “I do, yeah. I just can’t afford a car so I take the bus. You said you work in an office nearby right?”

               Seonghwa looks a little embarrassed as he replies, “I don’t know how to drive. I’ve tried. I just get…a lot of anxiety and psych myself out. But it’s only a ten minute walk from the stop to the office I’m at so I figured it works out.”

               “What sort of work do you do there?”

               He makes a face. “It’s in accounting. It’s not very interesting. A lot of numbers day in and day out. You?”

               “I work as a receptionist at a medical office. It’s about as dull as I assume accounting is,” You realize what you said and immediately begin to backtrack, “Not that accounting is boring. I mean, for you. And the others working there.”

               Seonghwa laughs quietly, shaking his head. His earring swings, catching the light and glimmering. Your heart constricts at his laugh.

               “It’s okay. I did say it’s not very interesting, didn’t I?”

               You relax slightly, glad that you didn’t offend him. But before you can say anything else, there is a horrible grinding noise from the bus as it comes to a stop. The bus jostles hard and you are tossed against Seonghwa. His hand goes to your waist as you gasp in surprise.

               Up this close, you can smell his faint cologne. One of your hands is on his thigh, gripping it to steady yourself, your other hand flat against his chest. The sudden close proximity of Seonghwa, who used to be a distant figure on the daily bus rides, makes your brain buzz.

               His hand moves to your lower back, his voice dropping as he murmurs, “You okay?”

               “Yeah,” You say quickly, pushing away from Seonghwa, flustered from both accidently falling all over him and the way your heart is hammering in your chest.

               “Well,” Seonghwa remarks dryly, “Whatever that was, it didn’t sound good.”

                 He ends up being correct. The bus has broken down and everyone is shuffled off to the sidewalk. Standing there awkwardly, you watch as smoke rises from the back of the bus. People are mumbling, complaining, demanding to know when they can get home. Not that you want to be the bearer of bad news but you doubt it will be anytime soon, knowing how the public transit system runs even on a good day.

               After around twenty minutes, the driver announces another bus will come by to finish the route in an hour. Cue more grumbling. It is then that Seonghwa nudges you gently.

               “Do you wanna walk instead?”

               You blink, looking at him. The sun has dipped below the horizon, the final sprays of orange cast across the sky. In the hue of the approaching evening, Seonghwa’s skin looks luminescent and beautiful.

               Your distraction by his appearance must make you come off as hesitant because he suddenly looks nervous and keeps talking. “You get off the bus at the stop before mine. So we must live sorta close to one another. I can walk you home. You and I both know it’ll be faster than waiting around here.”

               The truth is that you desperately want to agree immediately. You’d walk halfway across the entire city if Seonghwa asked you, that’s how down bad you are for him. It is embarrassing to admit. But you also don’t want to have him walk too far out of the way and make his long night even longer.

               Pulling out your phone, you bring up the GPS app. “Put your address in so we can make sure you’re not going too far out of your way.”

               “I really don’t mind,” He says but takes your phone, inputting his address.

               You do so afterwards, taking note that he is only a twenty minute walk from your place. The guilt erased, you agree to walking home with Seonghwa instead of waiting around for a new bus. Your heart is beating hard, making it difficult to keep your cool around him. Without the buffer of the bus and other people, it is the first time you’ve been alone with him.

               Seonghwa walks with ease, occasionally checking his phone to make sure you’re both walking in the right direction. The temperature is starting to drop as the evening rolls in. Earlier in the day it had been quite stuffy and neither of you have jackets. Now, you are regretting the choice.

               But if Seonghwa is bothered by the cold creeping in, he doesn’t show it even though his button up appears thin. You trace the outline of the fabric against his skin, the way the ribbon is tied around his neck –

               “What is it?” He asks, tilting his face to look at you.

               “N-nothing,” You look away, pretending to be fascinated with a ramshackle looking gas station you’re walking by.

               Why is starting a conversation with him so difficult? Maybe the two of you have nothing in common and you’re just blinded by your physical attraction to him. Conversations are supposed to be effortless, right? That’s how you gauge attraction to someone. Everyone else you’ve either liked or crushed on had conversations flow pretty easily. But with Seonghwa, you’re so caught up in the intensity of the attraction and the depth of longing that your brain seems to stall like the bus earlier.

               “You’re pretty quiet,” Seonghwa observes, startling you from your brooding, “Are you naturally quiet or do I make you nervous?”

               Surprised, you stop walking. Seonghwa notices after a couple of steps, hesitating and then turning around to face you. It is at the point in time that the sign for the gas station flicks on, bathing Seonghwa in red and yellow light. On anyone else, it would look garish. But Seonghwa’s black hair soaks it up, and the neon drapes across him like a luxurious blanket.

               “Why would you make me nervous?” You deflect, worried that he has figured out you have a gigantic crush on him.

               “I’m sorry, I was just teasing. I don’t actually think I -” A car drives by blasting music at an obnoxious volume, drowning out whatever Seonghwa said after.

               “Sorry, what was that?”

               “I said that I don’t actually think I make you nervous,” He bites his bottom lip for a moment and then leans forward.

               Rooted to the spot, you can only stare at Seonghwa as he brings his hand up –

               To brush something off your shoulder. Your stomach swoops, locking eyes with him. He studies your face for a moment, his gaze lingering a beat too long on your lips.

               “You had a stray leaf on your shoulder,” He remarks softly. It should be impossible to hear him over the cars driving by yet somehow you do and it feels intimate. “Are you cold? You’re trembling a bit,” Another pause and then, “Unless I do make you nervous.”

               “Why would you make me nervous?” You say quickly, too quickly and Seonghwa’s eyebrows shoot up for a moment before it dawns on you that he is just teasing again.

               Somehow more flustered than before, you take off walking again. Your cheeks are warm and the cold does nothing to help. Seonghwa catches up with you.

               “Sorry, I was just – I was just kidding. I don’t mean to joke so much, it’s just a sort of defense mechanism –”

               Confused, you immediately go, “For what?”

               He falls silent, avoiding your gaze. The two of you walk past a restaurant that is bustling with the Friday night crowd and the scent of food makes your stomach grumble. A breeze kicks up, ruffling the ribbon around Seonghwa’s delicate neck when he finally replies.

               “Well, I just see you every day. At the bus stop and on the ride home. We sit near one another. But I don’t know you at all. You just feel familiar, you know? I guess cuz I see you every day. I want to make a good impression on you and I don’t want to embarrass myself.”

               His words take you by surprise. The honesty in his words is evident by the way he can’t seem to look at you. But you relax a bit, comforted by the fact that you aren’t the only one feeling flustered.

               “You could fall in front of me and it wouldn’t be embarrassing,” You remark, pointing to the sidewalk, “I mean, really just eat shit with your bag flying in the air and spilling everywhere. And it wouldn’t be embarrassing.”

               At this, Seonghwa laughs and shakes his head. “Now you’re lying. You would definitely laugh!”

               “Whoa, I didn’t say that I wouldn’t laugh. I just meant you wouldn’t have to be embarrassed,” Your tone softens, “There’s no pressure besides what we place on ourselves. I mean…I feel nervous talking to you too.”

               The two of you stop at a crosswalk, the don’t walk sign flashing as the cars zoom by. Seonghwa looks at you steadily.

               “How come?” He asks.

               “Well, it’s like you said. I see you every day. It’s like you’re a familiar face but I don’t actually know you. What if I make an ass out of myself and I have to see you on the bus every evening?”

               Okay, fine. You’re lying a bit. Yeah, your concern is real. But a huge reason for your nerves is that you’ve been crushing on him for so long. To suddenly be talking to Seonghwa, having him tease you, taking a walk home with him – it is a lot. You don’t want to mess anything up.

               The traffic stops, the light changes and the two of you cross the street as Seonghwa goes, “If anything goes sideways, I’ll…sit at the back or something so you don’t have to see me. We’ll make it as easy as possible.”

               “That won’t help. I’ll just feel you back there, staring at me.”

               “You think I sit around and stare at you while on the bus?”

               You are about to be embarrassed but this time you catch Seonghwa’s tone and point at him. “You’re teasing me again.”

               Seonghwa grins and shrugs. “Maybe a little.” That is when your stomach grumbles again, louder this time and he notices. He slows down, scanning the places around you. “Want to grab something to eat?”

               Why has the universe decided to gift you with (almost) every one of your fantasies in one evening?

               “Sure,” You say, “I haven’t eaten since lunch. Didn’t think I’d be walking home today.”

               “What about that place over there?”

               He points to a small nondescript place that seems to have less of a crowd than the other restaurants. You nod in agreement and in the next few minutes, the two of you arrive, are seated and looking at the menus. The place has a few people inside, mostly couples, and between the dim lighting and candles on each table, it dawns on you that this place is where you’d go on a date. But there’s no way Seonghwa would have known that when he picked it, you think sternly, so don’t get any ideas.

               As Seonghwa is engrossed in the menu, you pretend to be studying yours. In reality, you are sneaking glances of him. Some of his black hair has fallen in front of his eyes, his lips parted slightly as he focuses on the menu. Your eyes linger on the ribbon around his neck. There is a brief vivid mental image of giving it a sharp tug and pulling him in to kiss you.

               The picture jolts you to look away and stare at the menu instead. Of course, you’ve admired Seonghwa on the bus for awhile now. To say you haven’t thought about what it would be like to kiss him…and more…would be a lie. But you’ve been trying not to think about that stuff since he’s started talking to you out of paranoia it will show all over your face.

               But now you are aware of Seonghwa’s gaze shifting. His eyes are on you, he is studying your face. You pretend not to notice. If it were anyone else on the planet, you would entertain the idea that this person is interested in you. But it feels too good to be true that Seonghwa, formally known as Bus Crush, would be attracted to you.

               You raise your eyes a little, catching his stare. He immediately looks embarrassed, biting his bottom lip and looking at the menu as if it was the most fascinating thing in the world. Your stomach swoops. Somehow, his earlier teasing no longer seems like it is a defense mechanism but an indication of something more.

               The server comes by for your drink orders. Seonghwa orders a simple coffee. When the server leaves, he leans back in his seat. Another mental image: you’re in his lap, kissing him as his hands press against your lower back. You brush it away quickly, begging your brain to control itself.

               But it is proving difficult. Seonghwa, in his chic outfit combined with his pretty features, is proving too beautiful to be around for this long. Your thighs clench at the idea of him touching you. See, this was why he had always remained a crush. You’re quickly losing control of yourself around him.

               “What are you thinking about?”

               “Nothing,” The denial rolls off your tongue too hastily, “Sorry, did I look spaced?”

               “You were staring at me.”

               “I was not.”

               Your body is hot all over. You wish he would stop looking at you like that. But then you also wish he would never stop looking at you like that. His arm is outstretched along the back of booth, one leg crossed. The position is casual, one that people sit in constantly. But on Seonghwa, there is something sensual about it. Maybe it is the way the shirt rests against his chest, those two buttons undone and winking coyly in the restaurant lighting. Or maybe it is the manner in which his other hand rests on the table, painted fingernails tapping lightly against the menu. It could even be that ribbon around his neck that is begging to be pulled on. Whatever the reason, you’re distantly aware that you are turned on just from being around him.

               The server brings the drinks over. Seonghwa leans forward, his hands curling around the warm coffee mug. You feel something brush against your leg underneath the table. With a jolt, you realize it is Seonghwa pressing his leg against yours. Your breath catches.

               Seonghwa lowers his voice to a whisper, “I only noticed because I’m staring too.”

               Then he leans back once more, blowing on his coffee to cool it off as if he isn’t flirting with you, as if he isn’t making your head spin.

               His leg remains against yours the entire meal.

                 After dinner, the walk resumes. The temperature has dropped considerably. As the two of you turn away from the main hub of the city and into the residential districts, the noise of the cars and people in the bars and restaurants begins to fade.

               At some point, Seonghwa has looped his arm around your waist to pull you close.

               “It’s cold,” He remarks while doing so even though his body feels warm enough to you, “I didn’t bring a jacket today.”

               Your brain is too muddled to speak and you opt for silence. There is something pleasant about being this close to Seonghwa, almost making you feel delirious with desire.

               Seonghwa is in the middle of telling you a story involving him and his best friend, Hongjoong, who is his roommate as well. His tone is bright, occasionally laughing as he recalls the events. You listen attentively, finding comfort in the lull and pitch of his voice.

               There is also something else that is bubbling to the surface since dinner: tension. You can feel it in the way Seonghwa held the door open for you while exiting the restaurant, the weight of his hand lightly touching the curve of your lower back when a group of people clustered the sidewalk, in every glance he shoots your way and the way you’re pulled together now. It seems absurd and too good to be true to believe the attraction is mutual but the last thing you plan to do is look good fortune in the mouth and refute it.

               You’re almost at your apartment now. Neither of you remarks that it would have technically been faster to wait for the bus once the time for dinner is included. But perhaps it was never about what was going to be quicker. Maybe it was just about finding an excuse to be around one another because it is looking as though you weren’t the only one with a bus crush.

               “It’s this way,” You say after Seonghwa finishes up the story.

               The apartment complex is two stories, unremarkable in its appearance. Your place is on the bottom floor, all the way to the right. There are no lights on which means your roommate is still too swept up in her new boyfriend. She tends to spend every weekend with him.

               Stopping in front of the door, you turn to face Seonghwa who has shoved his hands in the pockets of his slacks. Are you dreaming or are his cheeks slightly pink? It could just be from the cold or it could be because he’s thinking along the same path as you.

               “Thanks for walking me home. And for dinner,” You hesitate, wondering if you’re going to take the leap. That’s typically unlike you but given the way the night has unfolded…

               “It’s no problem. Thanks for keeping me company,” Seonghwa replies.

               You swallow nervously and then go, “My roommate is gone for the weekend. She’s at her boyfriends,” The words linger in the air and you mentally push yourself off the cliff, “Do you wanna come inside?”

               Something sparks behind Seonghwa’s eyes, a look of half surprise and half desire. “Y-yeah, I’d like that. I mean, to warm up. Before I walk back home.”

               “Right, of course. It’s chilly out here,” You turn your back to him, unlocking the door and exhaling slowly.

               You can hardly believe that the week started with Seonghwa just being your crush to now standing in the living room of your tiny apartment. He looks so out of place, standing there in his stylish clothes like some sort of elegant prince as he gingerly places his bag on the coffee table.

               “Do you want something to drink?” You offer, looking to fill the silence that threatens to shift back to some sort of awkwardness.

               “Oh, some water, thanks.”

               He trails after you into the kitchen which is so small that it can barely fit both you and Seonghwa. You wonder if your nerves are evident; you’ve never invited someone in before with the expressed intention of making a move. But even though you’re good at ignoring signs that someone might be interested, it feels impossible to ignore the signals Seonghwa has given you all night.

               You turn around to hand him the glass of water which he takes a sip of. He is close enough to touch and the warmth radiating from his body is making your thoughts muddled. When Seonghwa puts the glass down carefully on the counter, he trails one finger along the rim slowly. His gaze on you is heavy and when he swallows, the ribbon bobs slightly. It’s enough to push you over the edge.

               Reaching upwards, you grab onto the ribbon, tugging on it so hard that it brings Seonghwa towards your body. He presses against you, his gasp muffled as your lips crush his. The kiss is like an electric shock in a rain shower – you can feel it from the top of your scalp to the tip of your toes. It wipes out everything that came before it: all the sneaky glances on the bus, all the times you admired his appearance, the small touch when you took your phone from him, down to the way he looked at you during dinner.

               Seonghwa’s hands wrap around your waist as the kiss deepens. He tastes faintly like coffee and the scent of his faded cologne is enough to make your head swim. The desire that you have so carefully kept locked away in all the months of admiring him threatens to topple over and spill out across all your senses, blocking rational thought.

               Seonghwa pulls away, his forehead resting against yours. His breathing has grown heavy as if the sheer force of the kiss has knocked him off kilter. You want to reassure him that the feeling is mutual but your tongue isn’t working properly.

               “Do I make you nervous?” He echoes his words from earlier, his voice barely above a whisper.

               “At first, yeah. Right now, no.” Your fingers trail down along the buttons of his shirt, feeling their coldness against your skin.

               “Why not?”

               You can feel him growing hard in his pants against your leg and your hand travels downward, grazing across the fabric. Seonghwa sharply inhales, eyes closing for a moment as you rub his cock through his pants.

               “Cuz I think we both want the same thing,” You murmur, marveling at how you’re not lying – the earlier nerves and anxieties about him have vanished in the intensity of your desire and realizing he is also interested.

               He brings his face to your neck, kissing along your skin. Each touch is as soft as a feather, making you shiver. Seonghwa nips at your neck lightly with his teeth as you press your hand down harder against his groin. He moves his lips up to your ear so he can whisper.

               “Like I said earlier, anything goes sideways, I’ll sit at the back. You won’t have to see me.”

               “Now you’re just being mean.”

               You can feel Seonghwa smile against your skin before his lips find yours again. This kiss is deeper, his tongue in your mouth while his hands slide down to grip your ass. As the kissing grows more urgent, the two of you are stumbling towards the bedroom now. Luckily, your room is right next to the kitchen, making it a quick escape into your slightly messy room.

               But if Seonghwa notices that not everything is as organized as it should be, he doesn’t seem to care. His hands are roaming across your body, each touch deadened by your clothes. The next kiss, you bite down slightly on his bottom lip which makes him groan. The sound is like music, making you want more of it, more of him.

               It wasn’t that you’re submissive in bed, it’s that you’ve been mostly alright with someone else taking the lead. But with Seonghwa, the dynamic is something new to you. Your earlier nerves have been replaced by such an overwhelming need for him that you find it easier to take charge. But Seonghwa follows without question, leading you to believe he isn’t one to take the lead to begin with. Better for you then.

               Seonghwa removes your shirt, his hands deftly unclasping your bra and tossing it to the side. He cups your tits, squeezing them in his large, warm hands. Grazing his thumbs across your nipples, he brings his face forward and flicks his tongue across them. You run your hands through his hair as he does so, sucking on each one as if his life depended on it.

               When he finally stops, he kisses you again. This time, it is messy and slightly frantic as if the desire you both feel is not being sated even with the touches between one another. You are tugging the belt off his pants impatiently. Seonghwa gets the idea and removes them swiftly, his boxers following. His cock is rock hard, precum glistening at the tip, his balls already full with cum. The sight is enough to make you drool.

               You fumble with the buttons on his shirt but its taking too long. You make a noise of impatience after one button is unclasped. Seonghwa brushes your hands away and starts to undo the buttons – but even that is too slow and he looks annoyed.

               “I should’ve thought about my outfit more today but I didn’t think that this was how the day would end,” He mumbles, slight amusement evident in his voice.

               After what feels like eternity, Seonghwa shrugs out of his shirt, not caring as it lands on the floor. Naked in front of you, it hits your brain then that you’re actually going to fuck this man, the guy you’ve been admiring for ages. You run your fingers along his taunt stomach, feeling the hard muscles underneath.

               When Seonghwa goes to remove the ribbon around his neck though, you shake your head and his hands fall. You can’t explain why you want the ribbon to stay on but you just do. There is something nice about how it looks delicately wrapped around his slender neck. Once an accent to a stylish outfit, now it seems dirty to leave it on as the only thing adorning him. Something must show on your face because Seonghwa looks a little bashful.

               You gently push on his chest, indicating to get on the bed. You want to ride him, feel him buckle underneath you as his cock fills up your cunt. Against the pillows, Seonghwa strokes his cock, watching as you remove the rest of your clothes.

               Then you crawl onto the bed, stopping to move his hand away from his cock so that you can drag your tongue along his length. He grunts softly from the sudden pleasure as you take him in your mouth. He tastes like all your fantasies did and the way he fills your mouth with his girth is pleasing. Your lips are wrapped around the head of his cock, pressing your tongue against the tip. You bring one hand to his balls to fondle them, eliciting another groan of approval from Seonghwa.

               You stop then, not because you want to, but because your need to have him balls deep in your cunt is overwhelming. Straddling him, you position his head at your entrance and take Seonghwa easily from how wet you are. He curses quietly as sink down on his cock, lost in the warmth of your hole wrapped around him. Pressing your hands against his chest, you lean forward slightly to adjust the angle and begin to move your hips.

               Bouncing on his cock, you look down at Seonghwa underneath you. He looks as pretty as ever, you think, admiring him while taking his length deep in your cunt. His cheeks are flushed, eyes hazy with desire, lips parted as he moans.

               Reaching forward, your hand curls around the ribbon, giving you something to hold onto. Seonghwa grunts in approval. The speed in which you bounce increases and with each thrust downward of your hips, you pull on the ribbon a little. This seems to drive Seonghwa wild because his eyes close tightly, his ragged gasp sounding just as pretty as he looks.

               Eventually, you can’t put off your orgasm anymore. You lean back, resting your hands on his knees to try to take him faster and harder. Your head rolls back from pleasure, moaning out Seonghwa’s name. His hips jerk upwards, his hands holding onto your waist. With him holding you steady, you bring one hand forward to rub your clit. Strange to think just a few hours ago, you were waiting to see if Seonghwa would sit next to you on the bus. Now you’re taking his cock.

               The thought combined with him buried inside you and your fingers against your clit begins your climax. Bucking your hips down to take all of Seonghwa, you cum, tightening around his girth. His fingers dig into your hips as he bites down hard on his bottom lip. You know he is trying not to cum along with you.

               Your entire body is warm and tingling from the intense orgasm but you manage to slide off Seonghwa. He doesn’t waste any time in getting on top of you, wrapping your legs around his waist and sliding back into your cunt.

               Your hands find the ribbon once again, pulling hard on it so that he kisses you again. This kiss is all drool, lust and muffled curses as Seonghwa pumps his hips, driving his cock into you hard and fast. Each movement rocks your body, your arms wrapping around his neck to draw him as close as possible. You move your hips as best as you can to meet his thrusts which are already erratic.

               “In me,” You tell him in a pleading tone, “Finish in me.”

               Seonghwa pants, picking up his speed, needing to climax. Your hands are in his hair, your body entwined with his. His full balls smack against you with every thrust, endless curse words toppling from his mouth as his orgasm quickly approaches. He is desperate to cum now, burying his face in your neck as he chases his climax.

               And then he goes still, letting out a moan that is muffled against your skin. Seonghwa shudders as he begins his orgasm, his cock spilling his cum in your hole, filling you up with its warmth, coating your walls. He is panting as he empties his balls in you. You idly play with the ribbon around his neck as he finishes until he carefully pulls out and flops onto his back.

               Between all the walking and now the sex, exhaustion tugs on your brain. It is a little past eight at night, way too early to go to bed but your body refuses to listen. As your eyelids grow heavy, the last thing you think of is that you’re going to fall asleep next to Seonghwa.

 Saturday

               You jolt awake, confused and desperately needing some water. Propping yourself up, you groggily reach for your phone only to realize it’s not on the bedside table. How long have you been sleeping? It is still dark outside.

               Something shifts in your bed. You turn to the side and see Seonghwa there, sleeping on his side, his back to you. The memory wipes all the sleep still clinging to your brain as you remember the bus breaking down, walking for ages with him, having dinner and then fucking him like crazy.

               Not wanting to wake Seonghwa up, you carefully slide out of bed, padding into the kitchen to get some water. The clock says it’s nearing one in the morning. Talk about fucking up my sleeping schedule, you think, taking note of how awake you feel.

               When you come back into the bedroom, Seonghwa is rubbing his eyes groggily, sitting up a little. He had tossed the sheet over his lower half at some point during the night, leaving just his chest exposed. The sight of him with his messy hair, looking fucked out in your bed, is enough to make your mind spin.

               “Did I wake you?”

               “No, I had been already kinda waking up when I heard you get up,” He says, accepting the glass of water when you extend it to him before getting back in bed, “What time is it?”

               “A little after one.”

               He sighs. “I’ve totally fucked up my sleeping schedule.”

               You laugh, “Well, the feeling is mutual.”

               Seonghwa finishes the entire glass, putting it on the bedside table and then turning his attention to you. The room is dark, the only light from the tiny nightlight you have near the door.

               “Well,” He says softly, “I can think of worse ways to mess up my sleeping schedule.”

               Seonghwa brings his hand to your thigh, leaning forward and kissing you. The touch is soft, as if he isn’t sure if you would still want him after fucking earlier. You return the kiss eagerly but then break it off to laugh quietly.

               “What?” He asks, looking worried.

               You reach up for the ribbon around his neck, untying it. “I just realized you still had this on.”

               Seonghwa looks sheepish. “I have to admit I’ve never utilized my fashion accessories in sex before.”

               “And what did you think?”

               “I think I need more ribbons.”

               You laugh again as Seonghwa cups your face with one hand, grazing your cheek with his thumb. He draws you in for another kiss, his other hand roaming down your body. The desire stirs and awakens with the touch, wrapping your arms around his waist and pulling him down as you sink back into the pillows.

               Seonghwa shifts so that he is on top of you. The kiss deepens, he grows stiff against your thigh. Instinctively, you curl your legs around his waist, silently pleading for him to fuck you back to sleep. All your senses are consumed by Seonghwa; all you want is to have him inside you once again.

               But he teases you, refusing to enter right away. Instead, he moves his hips to grind his cock against your pussy while nipping at your lips with his teeth. You grow wet at the movements, your fingers digging into his skin in an attempt to urge him on.

               Your tongue is in his mouth, your body pressed against him so that you’re skin to skin, and your need for Seonghwa is overwhelming. It is like a hot current in your blood, fizzling just underneath the surface. And just when you think you’re going to crack and beg, Seonghwa enters in one swift motion, filling you up just how you need.

               Your moans topple into his mouth as he rocks his hips a little, just enough to hear how wet you are wrapped around his length. Then he untangles himself from you, bringing your feet to rest on his shoulders as he picks up his pace. His hips jerk hard, driving his cock all the way inside your cunt. The angle somehow feels better than fucking him earlier did.

               And Seonghwa looks good, his hair a sleepy mess, moaning and cursing, skin slightly flushed. You like the way his slender waist moves as he fucks you, his pumps steady and increasing speed as the pleasure grows. He brings one hand down and pinches your nipple, switching to the other one when your moan lets him know you like it before grabbing your tits in both hands and squeezing them.

               Seonghwa doesn’t stop fucking you. Even though it is late and you should keep in mind your neighbor is trying to sleep, the two of you are making too much noise. Each jerk of his hips slaps his balls against your skin, Seonghwa cursing when it feels too good, mixing with your own loud moans.

               He leans forward then, his hands next to each side of your head, and your legs falling back around his waist. He doesn’t slow his pace, his tongue poking out from in between his plush lips as he fucks your cunt. You lean forward, your mouth crushing his. Seonghwa is practically drooling and the kiss is messy, a strand of spit connecting your mouths when it ends.

               He shivers, his eyes closing tightly as his orgasm draws near. You urge him to cum, tell him how much you want to feel him unload in you again and the words push him over the edge. Seonghwa grunts, thrusting one final time as he finishes in your tight hole. For the second time in a few hours, he fills your cunt up with his load. Somehow, there is even more than before and when he pulls out, you can feel it leaking from your cunt.

               Seonghwa doesn’t say anything but he moves downward, grabbing your hips as he buries his face in between your thighs. He holds your hips downward so that your pussy is against his face. His tongue begins to rapidly flick across your swollen clit. The pleasure is sudden and intense. Your hand goes to his hair for something to hold onto, your other hand gripping the bed sheets. Seonghwa doesn’t stop and the sounds of him slurping and sucking on your clit are pornographic. You are still filled with his cum as he does so and that somehow makes it hotter.

               It doesn’t take long to bring you to the peak. Your climax is intense and you wiggle underneath him. Your pussy grinds against his face and Seonghwa makes noises of pleasure, not stopping his expert licking of your clit. Your entire body tingles from the orgasm until you fall back onto the bed, breathless from how good it felt.

               It is then Seonghwa pulls away, his pretty face covered in his own cum and yours. You are in a tired lump on the bed, eyes closing as you hear him pad out of the room to clean up. By the time he comes back, you’re already half asleep.

               Seonghwa wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you towards him gently. The touches are soft and gentle, and you relax into him. Your last thought is one of happiness that the bus broke down, leading you down this road with him. Now, everyday at the bus stop, he will be yours.

the end.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Life in the City 3

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bad friends, creep behaviour, abuse of power dynamics, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You move to the big city and find yourself swallowed up by its chaos.

Characters: Clark Kent, Thor Odinson, short!reader

Note: A brief reprieve from the snakish prince.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you. No tag list, do not ask for updates.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You sleep lightly, A restless night that leaves your skull fragile. You give up your attempts as the sun rises through the windows. You sit up and stretch, looking around the soft hues limning the walls of Melanie’s apartment.

You stand and move cautiously through the space. You change in the bathroom, doing your best not to make too much noise as you go out to grab your bag. You brush your teeth and tidy up. You’ll have a shower when you get home.

You emerge and look around, making sure you haven’t left anything out. You take the time to clean up the snacks from the night before and place everything away in the cupboard. You know Melanie’s on a diet but it feels wrong to take it all back with you.

As you zip up your bag, a shadow darkness the hallway and you look up as Clark tussles his dark hair and stretches. You glimpse at him briefly, mortified to find him shirtless, his hard torso exposed above the low elastic of his sweatpants.

“Morning,” his voice is silty with sleep, “what… are you leaving already?”

“Well, I… I should head off. Get out of your way,” you shrug as you speak quietly, “plus, I got chores…”

“Oh, do you need a ride,” he lets his hand drag down his chest as you shift awkwardly, clinging to your knapsack.

“Um, that’s nice, but I’ll just catch the bus–”

“The bus?” He echoes, “let me throw on a shirt and get myself together. I can’t let you just sneak off.”

“Erm, I guess… I could wait and say goodbye to Melanie, I just thought–”

“Yeah, she won’t be up for a while,” he drops his arms, his chest puffed proudly, “you know, she drank a lot. She wasn’t feeling too well. You didn’t hear her?”

“What? I…” you blink and avoid his gaze, “I was asleep, I didn’t hear anything.”

“Oh, yeah, she was sick in the middle of the night. Pretty bad. I tell her not to drink on an empty stomach.”

“Ah, uh, yeah, that’s awful,” you sputter, “I… I’m sorry to rush out, it’s just I got a lot to catch up.”

“No problem. I’ll save you waiting for the bus,” he says, “won’t be long at all.”

“Oh, okay, but–”

“Really, it’s no trouble. If I don’t wake her up with a real latte, she’ll bite my head off,” he chuckles, “hungover Melanie is not nice Melanie.”

“Right,” you try to laugh but it’s more a croak, “I’ll just be… here then.”

🏙️

You sit in the car silently. The tension is roiling. You don’t know why you agreed. You could have insisted; the bus won’t be long…

Too late for that. You’re stuck now. At least there’s not much traffic. You hug your bag in your lap, anxious to just get home. He drives patiently despite the empty streets, taking his time as he turns onto the next street.

“So, chores, sounds exciting,” he teases.

“Mm, yeah, I guess,” you agree squeakily.

“What else are Saturday’s for? Guess you’re headed back to work on Monday?”

You nod, “mhmm.”

“How is it? Work? You making lots of friends?”

You almost feel like a kid. It reminds you of when your dad would pick you up from school and ask what trouble you go into. You twiddle your fingers against your bag.

“Um, well, everyone sort’ve keeps to themselves,” you eke out, “there’s a lot of work so…”

“You’ll settle in. I’m sure you’ll find lots of friends,” he slows and flips on his blinker, “I mean, you already have.” You tilt your head and glance at him in confusion, “me.”

“Oh, uh, sure, yeah, sorry, I’m tired,” you laugh nervously.

“So,” he rolls into the lot of the Coffee Bean, “want something?”

“You don’t have to–”

“I’m stopping by anyway, no biggie,” he insists, “coffee, tea?”

You pick at the zipper of your bag. He’s so nice. Too nice. But that’s not a real problem, you’re just making it into one. Last night… what did he do so wrong? Pull a blanket over you? It was cold.

“Sure, could I just get an iced green tea, please and thank you?” You unzip your bag and fish around.

He steers into the drive through and puts in his order at the speaker, listing off Melanie’s complicated lite syrup, half-foam, coconut milk monstrosity at the end. You pull out your wallet as he’s directed to the window.

“My treat,” he insists.

“Really, it’s just three bucks.”

“Exactly,” he insists, “you brought all those treats last night, the least I can do is buy you an iced tea.”

“Thanks,” you sniff and look out the window.

“I’ll make sure Mel gives you a call. You two can hash this out,” he stops and waits at the window, “she needs a friend like you. All the others are so… well, they’re not as nice as you.”

“Maybe, I… if she wants to call. I don’t want to bug her.”

“Bug her? Oh, sweetie, she doesn’t deserve a friend like you,” he says, “but I’m being selfish and I think you’d be a good influence.”

You nod again, put off by his tone. It’s like he’s a parent the way he talks about Melanie. Almost like he’s trying to mould her into something. Someone like him, with his name and his looks, you’re sure he could find someone who already fits right in.

The window opens and he takes the tray of drinks. He hands you yours before sliding the other two into the cup holders. He flings the cardboard tray onto the backseat and continues through the exit. He idles at the signs.

“I forgot, which way am I going?” 

You point him in the right direction, nearly sighing in relief. You’re almost home. You just want to hide away in your shame and never be perceived again.

🏙️

You’re not very surprised when Melanie doesn’t call. Not on Saturday or Sunday. You’re grateful that she doesn’t. You’re trying to forget about the movie night gone wrong. It’s probably better off. You’ve both changed a lot since high school, or maybe you haven’t changed enough.

You go through your usual. You’re not a liar, you do have chores. Dishes, laundry, floors, dusting… You keep yourself busy in an effort to block out the memory of the night. You won’t be watching Never Been Kissed ever again, that’s for sure.

Monday morning greets you with a new start but it all feels so stale. The routine is the same as the weeks before. Wake up, green tea in a thermos, pack your lunch, make yourself presentable, and out the door to catch the bus.

You enjoy the route, letting it lull your pre-work jitters. You’ve been there going on a month and somehow you still feel out-of-place. It’s not like before, where you knew all the people at your work study, or in high school where the associates in the department store joked around more than they ever did the price changes.

You stroll up to the building, slowing behind a pair of men in tailored suits. You feel like a minnow in a sea of sharks. You follow them inside as they drop the door on you. They’re important. They’re chatting about an important meeting and business trip next week. You’ll be dutifully perched at your desk, roving through spreadsheets.

The salesmen are higher up the chain than you in the ecosystem of the company. You’re somewhere along the lower-middle ground, below the lions and the hyenas. You’re off with Timon and Pumbaa, trying not to get eaten.

You step onto the elevator with them, shrinking down. You’re invisible to them. You’re not Stella in her red-soled stilettos and tight pencil skirts, or Ginnifer in her high-buns and sleek pantsuits. You feel like a little girl playing dress up even in your simple powder blue cardigan and flowered skirt.

The elevator bings and the men nearly bowl you over as they brush past you on each side. You get off after them and scurry away to your desk. You see Stella now, sipping a tall latte as she purrs at Tony. She struts down the hall ahead of him as she calls back about some expense report.

You tuck your bag under your desk and get yourself situated. You plunk down your thermos beside your mouse and boot up. You roll your ankles under the desk, your Keds soft-soled but comfortable. You can’t run for the bus in heels.

You steel yourself for another day buried in Excel columns. You sign in and push back the cap on the lid of your cup. Steam escapes and you let the heat escape before you dare taste it. You pull up your inbox and scroll through your emails. Your task list is ever longer by the day.

Your work isn’t unimportant. You give the analytics to the salesman and the big suits. You provide the numbers for their strategy but for them, all that is menial. That’s not the real meat of the company. You and all the other ants in the hill are dispensable.

You push your chair back as you reach into your bag for your notebook. As you do, the back collides with something. You quickly roll back in, knocking your head on the edge of the desk as you do. You rub your brow as you spin to face the obstruction.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you babble up at the tall man. 

He’s big, blond, and burly, and wears a suit that demarcates him as one of them. You don’t need an introduction, everyone knows who he is. The COO is memorable for more than his title. His booming voice and towering size set him apart from all the other men in their leather shoes and skinny ties.

“I’m sorry, sir,” you stand but still have to crane your neck to look at him, “I wasn’t paying attention.”

“That’s quite alright,” he smiles broadly, “are you alright? You took quite a bump.”

“Oh,” you drop your hand from your head, “yeah, I’m fine, sir. Thank you. I was just… looking for something.”

“So long as you’re alright. However, I am the safety officer, I could have a look,” he offers.

“Really, I’m fine,” you insist, “I didn’t mean to do that–”

“I didn’t mind so much,” he assures you, “I don’t know you. You’re new. Leah’s replacement?”

“Um, I think,” you look at your desk, “I wouldn’t know.”

“Of course not,” he accepts, “Thor Odinson.”

He holds out his large hand. You consider it and give him your own. Your hand is tiny in comparison as he easily wraps his fingers around it. You supply your name with a squeak.

“Ah, I like that,” he praises, “well, you have a wonderful day. And welcome to the company.”

“Yes, sir,” you rescind your hand as he releases it. His cologne wafts towards you, vanilla underscored by something woodsy.

“Thor,” he affirms.

You repeat his name and clutch your hands together. He lingers, looking you up and down, then turns on his heel. You watch him go before you sit.

You want to hold your head and hide. What did he think of you? This girl in her thin wool cardigan and lace-up sneakers. You don’t know why you care so much. He’s your boss but not directly. He’s probably already forgotten about you.

You cringe and swirl your mouse around. Focus. You’re at work. This isn’t high school or college. This isn’t about making friends and all that. It doesn’t matter what he thinks of you, your work matters.

You lean into the screen and squint at the tight boxes, increasing their size as you open a new report. For all your studying, you never saw yourself sitting there fighting with numbers all day. Percentages, rates, medians, mean… how boring.

You jolt as you feel your bag buzz against your leg. You look behind you before you push your chair out this time and bring your bag into your lap. You retrieve your notebook as you remember the cause of your first folly then fish out your phone. 

You bring down the menu and set it to silent. Before you hit lock, you see the message beaming back at you. It’s from Melanie.

‘Hey girl. Let’s talk.’

You frown. You’d already accepted that Mel was done with you. She was always good at holding a grudge, even for the slightest offence. You wonder if Clark really had talked to her. You leave it unread and tuck your phone away, dropping your bag back to the floor and shoving it away with your toes.

As you return your attention to your monitor, you sense something behind it. There, across the room, you meet Thor’s eyes as he stares at you. He has a red mug of coffee in his hand as he sips. He pulls the brim away from his lips and grins, sending a wink in your direction.

You blink and look over your shoulder. Who is he looking at? You turn back to face him again. He’s gone. Ah, whoever it was, must’ve caught up to him.

You shake off the collision and the text message. Work!

[khaire-traveler]

Hermes is the exhausted traveler who spent almost a full twenty four hours traveling from one place to the next. He drags his feet along the floor as he lugs his overstuffed suitcase of souvenirs behind him then immediately perks up when he sees the time and rushes to make his next flight.

Hermes is the excited tourist who struggled to save thousands of dollars for the chance to visit another country that they've admired for so long. He zips around from place to place, stopping to take photos of the gorgeous sights he may never see again, and he dives in head first at any opportunity to participate in or witness cultural traditions.

Hermes is the newly-wed groom who enthusiastically jumped on his flight with his spouse for his first honeymoon. He tenderly holds hands with his lover, resting their heads on one another, as they both stare, wide-eyed, at a strikingly clear sky populated with glistening stars and makes a wish as he mistakes a satellite for a comet.

Hermes is the single father who desperately needed a vacation but couldn't find a babysitter in time. He smiles contently as he lounges on a beach chair, soaking up the sun, and watches his two girls pretending to be sea monsters in the ocean's waters a few feet away.

Hermes is the college frat boy who travelled to the beach a couple cities away for his spring break vacation. He chugs down another glass of beer and belts out karaoke with his best friend to the song I Wanna Dance With Somebody by Whitney Houston at 3am, likely annoying their neighbors in the hotel room next door.

Hermes is the fragile old man who finally got the chance to return to his home country after years of having no choice but to live abroad. He smiles nostalgically at the small town he grew up in, sipping at a cup of coffee as he sits in an old café he used to visit often, admiring the scenery and feeling torn about how much things have changed in his absence.

Hermes is the anxious student who managed to get an opportunity studying abroad with their school. He nervously examines the map of the metro lines and stations, attempting to catch a metro back to his temporary housing after a full day of wandering the city and being too afraid to ask a stranger for directions.

Hermes is the young boy who took his first plane ride alone to visit his dad after the separation. He shyly converses with the nice lady seated next to him on the plane, sharing very little information but enjoying the company regardless.

Hermes takes the form of all travellers. His spirit journeys with us as we travel by plane, car, bus, or train. He waits in line for the metro ticket by our sides, he rocks out to our favorite songs with us in our cars, he squeezes our hands during the turbulence on the plane, he stares out the bus window with us as we listen to headphones.

Hermes is the spirit of The Traveller, and on every trip we take, every journey we embark on, every first step on the road of life, he wishes us safe travels.

[simp-ly-writes]

Here With Me

─────── · · A Smosh Fanfic

Pairing: Ian Hecox x gn!childhood-friend!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: you could confidently say that you were a fan since practically day one, growing up alongside Anthony and Ian before life has you changing schools, states, and relationships only to come back together and for what? a company that is falling a part as soon as it had grown legs? but maybe there is something or someone that allows you to stand above it all... and you the same for them...

─ · · TAGS: gender-neutral pronouns, light swearing, mutual pining, heartache, friends/lovers, play fighting, possible cringe, angst and fluff.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 2,609

─ · · A/N: sorry, no update for the comments section just yet, university and college have me running laps to keep up but i offer this instead! hope you enjoy! 😊

─────── · ·

You had lived in the same neighbourhood as Ian; rode the same bus in the morning as him, sat through the same repetitive morning math classes and shared notes (but if anyone took a closer look, you both were drawing imaginary cartoons in the corners). Hell, he was even your first "date" to the sixth grade halloween dance, you both dressed up as ghosts, Anthony the ghostbuster chasing you around the gym before being told off by the English teacher.

Ian never failed to make you laugh, you thought him to be one of your greatest friends with his blunt and increasingly dark humour as you both aged and went off to different school districts. Those days of laying in the grass of his backyard as he ranted out various video ideas you failed to understand but choose to actively listen, appreciating his enthusiasm and his mom would come outside warning you to make it back home for in time for dinner. Sitting in his room, watching them scream jokes at one another at the top of their lungs as you did your best to muffle your laughs. Or dipping out of the way as Anthony ran by with a camera to riding your bikes to the corner store to sit on the curb, popsicles dripping down your forearms were soon long gone as you both grew into different people.

You remember missing Ian, Anthony, all your friends you had grown up with dearly. Looking back, you hated to admit how much you felt the need to forget your old self in the new environment... Moving to a new neighbourhood and trying to fit in among the established friend groups. Changing your style, your phone number, your hair, and interests to try and desperately fit in and go out with that one friend you had a crush on.

You fell into that new person, those check in emails you would send over to the boys now long forgotten as the years went by. And by the time graduation came around, that friend you had been dating those past four years, the person you thought to be that high school sweetheart you would somehow spend the rest of your life with became the biggest asshole you had ever met. Dropping your ass just before you walked the stage and into the summer sun.

When you would come home to start packing your bags to university in another state, a familiar voice was echoing down the hall. You swore it to be just in your grief of a failed relationship you spent so much time in rather than discovering who you truly wanted to be. But as you opened your younger siblings door just a creak, you saw Ian and Anthony playing in video across their desktop screen.

The brown cardboard box you were holding dropped on your feet as you cursed out in pain, the door slamming in on your face as you asked for the link only to receive no answer. You cursed, looking down at your phone, cursed at all your decisions as your once friends started blocking your number, and all you wanted in that moment was to be a kid once more...

─────── · ·

Was bringing flowers too cliche, the wrong message, did I remember the house number wrong? You anxious stream of consciousness flooded any sane thoughts as you tapped your foot against the concrete paver and stared into the chipped red-painted door. You could faintly hear footsteps moving behind, a woman yelling and another series of footsteps trailing behind and soon you were met with glasses, a striped shirt, and wide eyes.

"WHAT THE FUCK," Ian ever-so graciously greeted you before stepping aside and letting you in. His mother waved at you from down the hall, her rollers in before the bathroom door closed just as the front door did behind you.

Ian held out his hand as you started to reach out to shake it awkwardly before remembering the flowers in your hand and shoving them into his palm instead. "Here!"

"uh, thank you?" He took them in his hand, eyes shifting around your face before walking out of the entryway and into the kitchen, silently expecting you to follow along as you slowly took the pictures in from along the walls. A small smile with hazy eyes crossing your features in a subtle display as you bump into his front, flowers in water, sat on the counter behind himself.

He holds out his hand once again as you look down at it and against your better judgement, you loop your arms over his shoulders and pull him in for a hug. His brown hair tickles your nose as you let out a soft breath, barely hearing Ians identical response as his arms raise, hands spraying out across your back. "Its good to see you again, Ian... I-I really missed you, so fucking much," you choke out, raising your head slightly to blink away the hot tears as he pulls you in that much tighter before stilling by the sound of a new voice.

"IAN! I have a new idea what if we- how shit, you never told me- oh fuck, well- hi! good to see you again," Anthony staggers to a complete sentence as you and Ian drop each other in an instant and turn to face your other old friend coming in from the screen-door.

You smile, hands extending up and outwards as he rushes over to give you a short hug. You all take that moment to stare at one another before Ian suddenly starts laughing and you and Anthony can't help but do the same in disbelief of the situation.

"Fuck, where did all the time go?" you blurt out and after some pizza order in with a six pack of soda. You were all crowded around the television super mario on the screen as you all sat on top of one another getting noise complaints from the neighbours for hogging the controller.

─────── · ·

You hated how fast summer came and went between being the cameraperson to film their videos to helping Anthony manage the website and to listen to Ians endless stream of ideas while also telling him off of the completely outrageous ones all the which Anthony was forever grateful to have another person to agree with him and have Ian actually listen.

And as you were loading the last boxes into your trunk before slamming the door closed. You felt the cold glass against your palms as warm tears threatened to spill from your tear ducts. A hand was placed gently on your shoulder, twisting you into their front as you gripped the plaid shirt Ian wore.

You looked at him, laughing internally at his foggy glasses for to only come out as sobs. "I'm sorry for having to leave again... i'm sorry Ian that this keep happening, fuck I am a really shitty friend and things were just starting to feel... normal again."

"Nothing is normal with us three," Anthony retorts, walking up the driveway a tray of coffee's in hand as you all cringe and then manage a laugh. You and Ian still hold each other in a side hug as you grab your drinks, your parents stand to the side, observing the moment as you glare at the sudden flash from your peripheral vision.

"You'll thank me in the future," you parent yells from the grass as you shake your head. "Yeah, right!" you retort with a roll of your eyes before smiling at Ian already finding him doing the same. "I'm going to miss you too," Ian speaks softly, giving your side one last squeeze before dropping his arm, allowing you and Anthony you share a moment together.

Anthony placed his drink on the roof of your car as you do the same. Your eyes go wide as he turns you away so that you can no longer see anyone and pulls you into a hug. "I think we almost have something, don't you dare miss out on it this time but also like- have fun or whatever. Just make sure to not loose any of our numbers."

"Never again," you state with conviction as you pull away before walking up to the drivers door and taking your seat. Putting your hands at the top of the wheel, your head on top your flash through images of popsicles, scrapped knees and bikes with soda cans before backing out and onto the road.

A series of curses are thrown as you begin to slowdown and look through the rearview mirror, your back window now hard to see through the brown sludge making its way down from the... roof. Ah fuck.

─────── · ·

You made sure not to make the same mistakes as your younger self and kept in contact with the boys, this time around you were one thousand times more grateful of it too as they offered you a portion of the channel as soon as you graduated from your media studies and production degree.

You moved back to California without a second thought. Sure, you had truly made some good friends and connections but just the thought of roller blading down another hallway, camera in hand had that childhood excitement you had missed ever-so dearly coming back and you just had to follow it.

It made you smile seeing your name return to the credits alongside Ian and Anthonys... in reality you were the only names on that list but it was the sentiment nonetheless. Yet it would only be a matter of time that would change...

─────── · ·

You were now a somewhat figure head to your own... department somehow. You were still unsure of the complete deal as the boys walked you through the new space the company you all had worked together to build as kids and it was a surreal experience touching all that expensive equipment you thought to have left behind at university and to have actual track across the floors and not your roller blade marks was a bittersweet feeling.

You and Ian left Anthony to take a call as you introduced yourselves to the new employees, failing to notice their curious gazes and hushed whispers about the two of you.

The crew loved watching the two of you interact (and soon the fans loved any glimpse of you, it would be the only thing mentioned). You fixing his hair and glasses as he floated a hand on your hip before going in front of camera. Him sending you winks and personalized jokes before going on air. You grabbing and waiting to eat lunch with him in the cafeteria. Always ensuring a seat beside the other or sitting on the same chair.

Yet as HR had once came in and asked, the office becoming silent as you both laughed and waved it off as old friends would before returning to work and as you worked you were more than surprised to learn that people actually recognized you from frames you failed to get out of in old skits and your name at the bottom of descriptions.

─────── · ·

Adulthood had once again touched that childlike innocence you were protecting as you came into your first of a hundred or more meetings sat between Ian and Anthony sharing notes with of course doodles and cartoons before being told off like kids once again by corporate. That word itself left a bitter taste in your mouth as you stared down at your hands wondering just what else did the universe have out for me, for us?

(And you did right to question).

─────── · ·

The channels, yes channels, you would laugh at your past self for not comprehending the sheer scale Smosh was operating at now as you physically ran between sets and stages that hosted dozens of cast and crew alike.

In the energy of it all, you, Ian, and Anthony barely saw one another besides the boardroom or as you watched them in front of camera. It was moments like this as you handled a small handheld camera in the corner that you felt a draft of the old come in from up the floor planks and greet you with a immovable smile upon your face.

You loved all the creatives you worked with, and even dated a few guests on the show. Yet you hated to admit to yourself when dining with them, how much you thought of Ian... and Anthony. You could not remember the last time you spoke in a room alone, went out together, had a drink or even had a sleepover.

You also failed to remember at what point you had started to grow jealous over Anthony for being able to spend so much time with Ian outside of work as they lived and worked alongside one another. You felt stupid for feeling left out but then again, you could not help the way you feel and silently let your emotions brew beneath the surface as months dragged into years only for things all to come to a staggering halt.

─────── · ·

Anthony was leaving was the first bump into what would be a cliff dive face first into a deep unknown for Smosh as you were mercilessly trapped to the wheel, Ian not forced to your passengers side as you observed everything happening for you.

Next was the bankruptcy and that dark little wish you had within you soon became a sickening truth as you allowed Ian and some of your friends, the cast and crew into your two bedroom apartment with cracked ceilings and moldy faucets.

Ian and you shared a room like you had in the past, it was your sleepovers all over again but your backs faced one another. "I... I will understand if you leave too... I don't want to hold you back when you have a degree and your partner to take care of-" Ian begins to speak in a corse tone, his voice strained from the long day as you blink yourself away and catch onto his words with an equally heavy heart.

"I-I promised not to leave again, I can't just leave you here with this Ian. We will find a way... we did it every other time, didn't we?" you reassure in an unsure tone as Ian laughs earnestly onto to let out a pained sigh by the end.

You can hear the bedding shuffle as he turns to face your back, you feel his gaze run over your shoulder before you twist your neck to connect eyes and then your body as you roll into his side, letting out a sigh.

"Thank you... for staying, I really need you in more ways than one, always," Ian's voice now barely above a whisper as you hear the hall bathroom light hum on as you both groan out in frustration to the light peaking out from underneath the door.

"I'll always need you too, Ian. You ain't ever getting rid of me," you joke. Head now tucked underneath his arm.

"Oh fuck, well I guess I'll have to kill you and hire a necromancer later..." Ian mumbles with a yawn, his ankles intertwining with your own.

"Oh shut up, you-" you begin, hand now playing with the loose threads of his shirt.

"Hey! thats my line," Ian closes his eyes as he holds a delicate smile, you are already asleep and fail to reply. Somehow you both knew in that moment that things would be just alright and you both were just fine with that.

─────── · ·

─ · · A/N: opinions, thoughts? 😇

─ · · TAGLIST: @lisiliely

[ov105]

Noise

After dealing with some well-expected writer’s block, here’s the follow up to Hush! It may or may not be a disappointing follow-up for some. I just think it’s aight, though. Nothing too fantastical, but nothing disappointing. I hope you enjoy it as much as I pictured it. 

4,673 words of Park Sieun

Enjoy!

"Yah, that wasn't your first time, wasn't it?"

Sieun asked a little louder after her earlier whisper as we continued down. I just scoffed.

"Eh, no, I mean, not yours either."

"Well," Sieun went shy. Like a flower closing at sunset, shrugging, "When I said it's been a while, eh."

"What?" I quizzed. She went quiet, queasy even, juggling in her head whether to spit out what was on her tongue. I just brushed it off. I couldn't exactly be mad either and badger her about it unless I wanted to end what we'd agreed up there. We also needed to get out of campus.

It was a bit of awkward silence as we entered into the somewhat cold air. By this time, Sieun would've taken her grip off my elbow, but she hadn't. She sighed as we made the street to the gate.

"So, by a while, I've only had sex once."

Sieun waited this long just to tell me that?

"So, what's the deal?"

"Oh, nothing. I just thought you wouldn't take it well, somehow," Sieun warily replied, and why would I feel indifferent? It's not exactly a surprise. There are worse.  

"So where'd you pick that up, then?" I asked her, referring to the obvious.

"Manhwa, porn, and some reading," she replied, "and you know, smut."

"Ah, everybody has read at least one," I replied cheekily. Though now, I was the one being questioned by Sieun. Asking me about my own experiences, though mine, in comparison, was not superior, leaving out the bad experiences that made the rest seem like a fairytale to some. She said she felt a bit anxious, though I wasn't lying that it's been a while since I was even nervous. I was not planning on being too much to handle, though I've been told if I just pushed, I might. I was just vanilla.  

Getting on the bus was a little more populated than the library. Luckily, I didn't recognize anybody, nor Sieun, though we sat there as if we weren't planning to fuck almost the whole night. She just had me put my left hand on her thigh, sandwiched between her thighs as she crossed her legs, but it came at the cost of her bag sitting atop it too. Believe me, however, when I say I've seen hands in between legs at earlier hours, some doing further, and others thinking I couldn't hear dirty talk through my headphones just before the songs changed.

It was a quiet ride. Both of us glued to our cell phones, typing away one-handed with my right, my left hand being the restless fingers that made Sieun close her legs further—trying to deter me from teasing her too much in such a risky setting, only going so far as a lip bite and a message from her to "stop playing around."

Maybe she just didn't want me preempting.

Getting off, we made our way through the back of her building. She typically didn't bring her dates in. Not that, at least the ones I've heard of, made it past the bus station. It was just her living alone, save for the weekend visits of her siblings, though we wouldn't be making our way up if that was the case. Opening the door, she seemed to have second thoughts while she looked around quickly from the doorway, then back at me, as she beckoned me inside. Locking the door, it was her show now.

"S-so, yeah, here it is," Sieun said shyly with a smile, her arms in a gesture to present her apartment. It wasn't a chaebol heiress' stable, not by a stretch, but it was enough for an adulting student.

"Just settle in here," she said, opening her bedroom. Then again, nothing unglamorous. I followed her as she placed her bag on the table. I had just put mine down beside a corner of the bed. I bent down to fiddle with something when the lights switched to the nightstand lamp alone, casting a warm orange glow over the dimmed room as Sieun closed the door.

"Stand up."

Sieun put her hands on my shoulders and said, while we stood before the mattress.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to try this."

Try what?

A single push, followed by her trapping me with her whole body as she climbed on the moment I landed. Oh, that's what she wanted to do—crawling until she was right on top of me. Now, in her bedroom, a place where we weren't to be bothered or paralyzed by shame, her hands moved like lightning, planting her lips and hips firmly on me as our hands snaked around without a care in the world—groping, grabbing, kissing—making out like it was the end of it.

Slowly sitting up, we didn't even break away from each other. Save for the moments when our clothes started to come off. As each one began to pile up on the floor until we only had our underwear, our fingers began making their way down. However, she had the headstart as I was busy trying to figure out her bra, luckily, getting it off without her noticing. Timing it, I pulled her leg closer to me. She was a bit surprised.

What I did next made her freeze, moving my lips down and into her neck—sucking hard enough that I felt a shudder, making her grab me. Uttering gibberish that I was unable to understand, so I just continued. Switching left and right as I felt her eyes dart upward and close, resigning herself to a fate that she, in her own words, had dreamed about. I hoped I was up to the task. Making a mess of her neck as her moans started to rise, but still kept a soft tone, as if she was singing.

She was slowly grinding herself on me, with every touch from my fingertips seemingly sending a shock in her system. Her nipples, which I'd lightly pinched as I groped her tits, made her breath shake, so what more if I sucked on them. Knowing how awkward it would be, I told her to turn over.

As Sieun lay down, I continued where I had stopped. Not even matching her gaze as I knew she watched me slowly inch my way downward. Taking my chances, I flicked her nipple with my tongue, a soft moan, then my lips wrapped and tugged at her tit. Sucking even harder made her louder, just as I had thought. Her flesh became softer. She was melting. She was just half-naked, though. Now I could make out what she said.

"Fuck, yes, just keep going."

Then I got my first look at her face—tiny, cute, dainty—scrunched up into a grimacing mess. It made my boxers feel tighter. The excitement got to my head as I licked down her flat stomach. Her trousers came off far easier than her bra, pulling them off along with her panties—another one for the pile.

So there Sieun laid. Naked, with her legs closed, expecting. I just had to keep control of myself. Suddenly, the bed seemed a lot smaller, though there seemed to be enough space for us not to become uncomfortable.

"Well?" Sieun asked, an eyebrow up.

If she thought I was unimpressed. I wasn't.

Opening her legs, I started to kiss her left thigh, only grazing past her pussy as I moved to the right. Sieun shifted as I pretended to leave hickeys on her thighs. Sticking my tongue out as I traced her labia with it, barely missing her clit as I went down the other way. Empty moans left her mouth as I did so, taking swipes tracing up and down her pussy, making her shudder before rounding up and sucking at her clit, making her burst into a moan that was loud enough to fill the room.

Having struck gold, I reached further. Licking Sieun's clit, again and again, the earlier nervous shifting quickly became a growing shuddering that signaled she was just about to lose her grip. There was something in the way she moaned that made me want to just hear her cum, so I kept on. Retracing what I already did to keep scrambling her head, merely reciprocating what she had done to me while at the library. Luckily, she had the luxury of moaning, and with how loud she was getting, I completely understood why.

Rolling my tongue around her clit, Sieun bit her lip, squealing and moaning as I felt her nails digging and grabbing onto the bed. I wasn't counting, but it didn't take long before her legs began to shudder too. From there, I drew circles and sucked on her clit, sometimes softly, sometimes hard, only pulling my tongue away when she seemed to come close to an orgasm.

Grabbing onto her legs, I kept my tongue in constant motion as I listened to her, which switched in pitch faster than hopping frequencies, from low growls, whimpering, mewling, squealing, moaning, and even yelling. Fighting to keep her own body in control as her back was already arching, and with everything else, it looked messy—an exorcism rite of modesty—and could only go further from there. But after one thunderous yell, which she'd shut up by swinging her mouth over, she said.

"Fuck, you eat me out so good," before continuing, "even I can't do this alone."

"You close?" I asked.

Sieun bit her lip as she met my eyes. A naughty smile curled on her lips before she spoke.

"Make me."

"Alright."

Going back down, I pulled a new trick to make it as intense as possible. I readied my middle finger by releasing my left hand from Sieun's leg. Slowly inserting it into her while I was going all in with my tongue, and let out another cry as the appendage split into her wet walls, no doubt aiding in the ease with which it slipped in. Hooking my finger upward, she threw her head back as I gently massaged her with it, stopping momentarily to find the spot that made it work, rubbing it along with my tongue at her clit.

Dramatic as it looked, Sieun was now quieter, her labored, heavy breaths replacing what had been moans. Though her body shook and rattled, her legs closed around my head, only to part, probably realizing it wasn't her wrist between her legs. Meanwhile, I was just enjoying the final lull, listening to her scrambled breaths and occasional moans, the futile scuffling of hands on the bed, and the jerking of her hip, surprising me as my finger and tongue got the best of her.

"F-fuck," she stammered out. The next thing I heard was a squeal. Then, Sieun yelled.

Holding on to her leg, she jerked as her pussy suddenly tightened around my finger. My lips almost lost her clit—an unnecessary gesture by now—as she exploded right before me, her back freezing for a second in an arch before plopping down. So I perked my head up to see the mess I made of her. She was barely holding on—a petite woman's body writhing from her orgasm. Eyes shut, chest rising and falling, mouth gasping for air. The orgasmic high, in all, lasted a minute. It took her another before she breathed herself back into consciousness. An atmosphere of silence replaced the thundering of moments ago.

Sieun's eyes snapped open as she sat up, looking straight down before meeting my gaze. I sat across from her, looking like I hadn't driven her to orgasm just now.

"You're good."

I just shrugged.

She then put her hand on my legs, rubbing it on my thighs before she called me, putting her lips on me and bringing me down slowly. Almost effortlessly, even.

"Alright, my turn."

Repeating the same way I kissed my way down earlier, the difference being my boxers came off faster. Sieun didn't need to do much work beyond that. With a tight grip, a few strokes, and a swift series of licks were all it took to be ready. I was much less nervous this time, though the sensation when her breath brushed my tip still made me shudder a bit. However, as her mouth was about to take my cock, Sieun let go of it. Instead, creeping upward until I was between her legs. She just left it there.

"Sit up."

So I did, with one hand on my neck and the other stroking my cock. I kept my face close to hers while Sieun tried to tease and make out with me.

"Don’t you think we're making out too much?" I quipped.

"Hey, come on now, let's not rush," she replied.

She put her lips back on mine, though this time, she darted her tongue out.

"This isn't a one-night stand, no?" I asked.

I sighed. She knew I knew the answer already.

"Nope."

"So? Why the rush?" she responded.

Sieun just chuckled before closing the gap between us again. Keeping up with me in two places at once, tongues matching and her hand corkscrewing my shaft. Seeing me shift under her sure stoked her ego, but like me, even when she said otherwise, I knew she had done her homework. As she began to slow down, I knew what would come next.

Asking me if I had any rubber, I just told her where it was. Shy enough to still hand me my wallet and hand it to her myself. Switching positions where, in any case, our heads would be on a pillow. As she returned to the bed, she got it from me, tore it open, and unrolled it down my cock. Straddling me, I was under her with my legs open. She gave me one more kiss before pushing me down.

"Here I go," Sieun whispered as she poked my cock up to her pussy. Seeing her throat contract as she swallowed, she looked at me as she stopped holding herself up and sunk downward. She was tight, fitting for her petite frame, straightening herself and giving me a better look at her face, eyes shut, some tinge of pain. Still, the deeper she went, the revival of pleasure. Our faces, mouths slightly ajar, suspended as I felt her warmth go lower on my cock. I could feel my moan building up as she took me all in. She let out a shaky breath while I shifted and pulled my legs back. I was inside her.

Giving herself a second to catch up, Sieun stared at me before slowly lifting up and back down. She did it again a few times, rushing with no regard. Though her expression and body seemed mismatched, the former tried to absorb it all in, almost telling the latter to stop. However, it only wanted to ride deeper. She was forcing herself to take in every last inch she could. Then she stopped, eyebrows furrowing as she met my gaze, and a rush of breaths came from her.

"You okay?"

Sieun nodded.

"You feel good."

She uttered before continuing on short hops, rendering me frozen for a second as the weight of her crashing down on me struck the match. I only remembered being in the middle of things when I felt her hands bearing down on my chest while she leaned forward a bit; amateur move. She was enjoying herself quite a bit.

Sieun was on top now, but I had no promises for later. Not that there were any.  

Grabbing her hands out of my chest, I put them away and placed mine on her thighs. She quickly grabbed on and wrapped her palms around my wrist. Pulling my legs back a bit more must've hit the spot or given her some confidence. Her song began to rise from the low hum they had been to an alternating mix of sighs and full moans, all while giving me a fantastic view of her riding me. I would be lying if I didn't think it was a beautiful sight, even in the dimmed shade.

Picking up her pace, she took her hands behind her, rising higher now while bringing herself down deeper on my cock. Biting our lips as I felt her tight walls squeezing me while I stretched her out nicely, it seemed. No pain. Just pure pleasure emanated from Sieun, catching her eyes looking ahead before they rolled back and shut her eyes. Relaxing but electrified at the same time as my cock kept striking a spot that had her grip weaken then tighten.

By that point, my hand had slid upwards. I held Sieun just below her hip while she switched off whatever safeties she had left in her head. I thought she was about to cum then and there. Not unusual, though far too early for me. Rummaging her hair a bit, she sighed, grit her teeth, then said.

"Fuck, you feel so good!"

Smiling down at me, mirroring her for a second before she went moaning back into the sexed-up mess she was becoming. She didn't even slow down.

I was huffing as I threw my head back. Beginning to zone out while the repeated knocking on my hip matched those of the headboard. Just a few sounds that, at least, signaled to her she wasn't killing me. But behind the consciousness that I wore, behind my face, I was almost out of it. A loss of cohesion just tells how good it felt.  

I only snapped back when she began grinding on me, a muted groan leaving me as Sieun approached my face—kissing me, so much as a peck, cutting it short and leaving me hanging. I sat up.

"Should I keep going?" she asked.

"Oh, shut up," I replied, putting my lips on hers. Chasing what was taken from me. Sieun waited the entire time until, "Yes, keep going."

I sensed a smirk from her, then continued as she held herself with an arm around my shoulder. It was a slow burn. Any faster would make her drain stamina, having nearly run herself dry, grinding her hips in a rough, rolling motion, which contrasted nicely with her earlier bunny antics.

"You sure manhwa taught you this?" I whispered into her ear.

"I rode my pillows," Sieun answered bluntly, "just like this."

I knew she had to pick it up somewhere.

"So what was that earlier?"

"Oh," she chuckled, "I don't know," shyly responding, "maybe you just make me that horny."

"Sure I do," I replied, with some sarcasm.

"You still don't believe me?" she whined.

I just huffed.

"I do. Your confession was just," I paused, "new."

"It’s the thought that counts," she replied, eliciting a laugh.

But it wasn't as if I had her hooked earlier. I just needed to catch her off guard. After a bit, I told her to switch and lie down on the bed. Just as she grabbed the pillow, aping where I had been when she rode me a bit too hard. The difference was that I could hold her. Taking her to the edge of the bed where I was, she still had her hands on the pillow. She put her legs around my waist as I positioned ahead of her, but before she could talk, I cut her off and thrust in. A loud moan left her as she pulled me down.

I didn't know if she squeezed her walls or just the way I was inside her. Sieun felt much tighter. As I thrust deep, a long, mumbling string of words left both of us. Feeling her hips rise along as I repeated, settling into a slow, erotic pace.

Now I understood what made her go too fast earlier. I shudder when it's too cold. I didn't know that being too tight elicited the same. Gritting my teeth as she grabbed my hands. Now it was her trying to keep me from running away. Pulling me in close, then a peck before saying.

"You feel so much deeper like this."

"I know."

Sieun didn't tell me to speed up. She could probably tell I was just as taken aback by it all. Taking a deep breath before I relaxed—and not cum—enough to keep moving. Only going slow, as it might've ended things prematurely. She looked like she did not mind at all, and while she made out with me half of that time just settled things. Couple that with her switching gazes downward before giving me that damned look. She liked it all right. It wouldn't last forever, though.

Sitting up, I grabbed her legs, and with her looking a bit bewildered, I thrust as deep as I could. It was perfect, with my crotch rubbing against hers. Sieun could only moan so loudly as I repeated it, covering her mouth with a palm as she tried to get it under control. I had no intention of letting her do so. Starting to slowly thrust with her legs held high above, each stroke hitting deep, leaving her with a scrunch on her face while taking it in.

Frankly, it could've gone for longer and looked much better when it wasn't me imitating it.

So I let go and kept thrusting the way I did before, just deeper. Sieun seemed to like it more when there weren't too many surprises, her body adjusting to the pleasure and settling down on her own as I took my hands off, placing them above her hips as her legs closed me in again.

I was thinking of switching. I knew it wouldn't mean too much if I might as well cum now. Any faster, and I could lose it. My own pace collapsed into a dogged attempt at fucking Sieun. Both of us are just ordinary people, even if we tried. She looked like she was on the same verge too.

"You want me to pull out?" I asked her.

"No. Let's switch."

I just sighed, stopping, then pulling out, "Okay."

I thought she was going on all fours, but nope. Teasing me for a bit, I was able to slap and get a grip on her ass, where her thighs rounded up to a dainty package. I was just about to put it in. She got cold feet and pulled away.

"Save that for later," Sieun said, "I want to ride you."

So I lay down. I was switching places with Sieun, now further away from the headboard, only pulling forward with my toes dangling off the mattress. I seemed to have given her an inkling that I loved how she rode so carelessly.

Getting on top of me, she didn't waste much time before we were in the same position we took a few minutes ago. My cock sat just ready to enter her, the difference being she was squatting this time. Odd, but whatever. However, that was not before she threw a wrench into things.

"Oh, one more thing, let's keep this lowkey, okay?"

I nodded and was about to say something when I felt my tip disappear and slid upwards into her. A breath left my lips as the words slipped back into my throat. Sieun, on the other hand, was just indulging herself by now. Typically, I would've just driven it home with her on her back, but this was Sieun. She wasn't a campus crush nor a random girl that charmed me on the train ride home. Besides, I wasn't the one to say we should save some things for later.

However, just as quickly as she started. I noticed her knees. They were shaking, but she was trying to fight through it with her arms in front of her, like a frog. I thought it was silly. Though with how tight her pussy was taking me out, I put the complaint at the back of my head. It felt like she was choking me as the clock ticked downward, both for her and me. She sang the same descending refrain that would destroy me by its chorus.

It never helps that she attempted to gyrate once or twice, almost taking me out.

Putting her legs down for the more usual flair, she began to bounce in a familiar manner. The same way that made her almost cum earlier. This time she looked to finish what she started, riding in long, deep strokes that let me feel every part of her own as she took in mine. Her face began to warp as she took a more dialed-in pace this time, the grip on my wrists telling me not to let her go. Though all the same looking—and feeling—like the perfectly messy cowgirl that only dreams could conjure. The words that left her mouth by this time were the same, though there was an added command, a calm tone barely audible amidst her moaning and squeaking.

I have heard it before. Coming from Sieun, however, it read like a letter of last resort.

"Fucking cum in me."

Just then, telling by her fingers, she let out a loud squeal. Fighting through herself, she suddenly squeezed hard on my cock as she pulled upward. As she sank, it was my turn. Gripping tightly onto one another. Throwing my head back, I joined her. Shutting my eyes and letting out a groan as I felt my orgasm. Another jolt from mine to her. The volume of it as if she hadn't blown me already, and if there wasn't anything, we might as well have been done for. Her mouth hung loose as her moans trailed off, only to rise again as her hips rose shallower and shallower. Her body was both stiff and soft, as with mine, as I filled up the condom. I couldn't tell her, but I knew my toes were curled the whole time. I knew it didn't last long, both the sex and our orgasms, but it seemed like forever.  

Sieun was practically forcing air into herself. Eyes blank. Unmoving. It looked like she had passed out for a few seconds.

"Fuck," she said, "I'm fine, but damn."

"Yeah, me too," I replied, dropping my head on the pillow.

Feeling myself softening up, she removed herself. She remained atop me, then slipped her right hand to face her as she dropped down, kissing me before she rolled beside me into a cuddle. Meanwhile, I got rid of the condom and just laid it aside.

"That was one great fuck."

"Yeah," I sighed, "That's one way to spend Friday night."

She just laughed.  

"It's even better than the manhwas," Sieun responded. I didn't know that it was a compliment or a lame insult. Whatever it was, I was now in her pages, playing, at the moment, a more significant role.

"Yah, Park Sieun, what the hell is that supposed to mean?" I asked.

"Well," she replied as she sat up, holding her reply until she jumped off the bed, "It just means you fucked me well."

"Oh, so I'm your fuckbuddy now?" I asked as I picked up and threw the condom in the can. Luckily it went on the first try.

"Not really. I mean, didn't I already tell you?" She seemed genuinely puzzled that I was still asking. I asked her again, sighing before turning to me as she closed her cabinet, then threw a towel at me, "we're dating now."

"Dating, huh? Alright," It was a strange first date.

That's the closest to a signature I could give.

"So, you want to grab tteokbokki after this?" she asked.

"Alright, after you wash up?" I told her.

"No," Sieun replied as she opened the lights, now a shadow.

"After we wash up, maybe you got another condom there?"

If only I knew our first date was all about sex. I would've brought more. I just said I did and picked another one from my bag. Giving Sieun another round in the shower, one that had her trying to find a grip on the tiles.

Yes, we shared a big bowl of tteokbokki after.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛

AM I THE ASSHOLE FOR REFUSING TO WATCH OVER MY SISTERS CAT?

please help me I'm having real trouble here.

So a couple days ago my sister found this little baby cat and decided to take it home to where she and her partner live, because the alternative would be letting it die and because she loves animals deeply.

The baby is only days old and it needs constant surveillance, something neither she nor her fiance can give because they work all day long. Here's where I come in.

Since I'm unemployed and don't really have much going for me at the moment, she asked me to go over to their house and take care of it from 8am til 8pm. Their house from mine is a 1 and a half hour bus & metro ride.

The thing is, she wants me to go and do that every single day, minus the weekends. She and her fiance had agreed to giving the cat elsewhere, I even have candidates from a Facebook post we made, waiting for a response. But suddenly she decided the cat is too cute and she wants to keep it.

I think it's unfair. Firstly, she didn't inform me of this (despite me asking all day long 'what should I reply to those messages?') until early afternoon where she asked me if I can come and watch the cat again the next day. Then she told me that she wants to keep it and when I said that I don't want to make a 2 hour trip back and forth every day she said that she wants to keep the cat but if she can't have the help she needs she can't.

This obviously made me feel guilty as hell, but here's the thing also. Isn't it unfair? Why would she keep a cat she doesn't even have the time for and mostly hand him over to me? I already have a cat I'm taking care of, albeit she's a big girl now. She will never have time for the cat and no one else she knows won't either, so the responsibility will always fall on me. They even have a trip planned and when I asked her what she's gonna do with the cat then, she said she was thinking of either handing it over to me or making me go over for the four days, which just bugs me wrong.

I do get the feeling I might be sounding really shitty. I feel shitty for feeling like this too. But I'm also anxious as hell about it. And this might be my avoidance disorder, which is why I'm asking you to tell me if I make a point or if I sound like the shittiest person alive? Please know I mean the kitty no harm, and I like him just fine, it just feels like a lot of weight on my shoulders, but also to be fair, my sister provides the milk and the box and the blankets and the feeding bottle.

So AITA?

[qiutls]

TNGDH 001

I became a hamster. No wonder I thought I was hearing squeaks last night, it turned out to be like this. Shiny golden fur that doesn’t lose its light even in the dark. Four lovely pink-tinted feet. Long whiskers that twitch whenever I move my cheeks. The black curtains flutter and the light leaks in from the steel cage hitting my eyes. Wait a minute… a steel… cage? A cage?! ― Eek. (Why?) I didn’t just become a hamster. I became a hamster that’s been trapped somewhere. * Thud. Thud. Thud. The cage I was in suddenly shook heavily and my small body rolled around in different directions as the cage kept moving. Who is it?! Who the hell drives like this?! Can’t you drive safely! Thump. My body sways to the corner again and I feel my butt stinging from falling too many times. Then I heard a horse sniffing, it felt thrilling to think that I was going to ride a horse. However, it only felt thrilling for a bit before I thought, It seems like I’m gonna be meeting King Yeomra. King Yeomra is the King of the underworld, hamster thinks he'll die because of the cage being shaken. Where the hell are we going? Why did I become a hamster? And why the hell are we not riding a bus or a train, but riding a horse? This is unfair, I feel so wronged. It’s so absurd that I have to explain, it’s so obvious that I’m a human not a hamster! That’s right I’m human! Bae Soohyun. I’m turning 27 this year. Even though my life was like a thorny path, I am a small mugwort that didn’t give up and kept living. It was a life where it seemed like I kept working day, night, dawn, early in the morning, from Monday to Tuesday to Wednesday to Thursday to Friday to Friday to Friday… But I had no doubt that my hard work would pay off. After years of hard work, it seems the day has finally come. The day when the game I developed became a big hit. I think it’s dead. Dead… That’s right… I died. After the earlier confusion of becoming a hamster has passed, my memories slowly started to come back. The game became popular and it felt like the son I was raising finally became successful. I was finally able to receive the first batch of settlement money thanks to the game. I rushed back home feeling so happy that I could fly. Rattle. The cage suddenly shook as the horse started moving. And I started shaking back and forth, my head felt like it was going to pop and my eyes slowly lost shine as I felt dizzier and dizzier. Are you kidding me?! I kicked the cage a few times hoping for the shaking to stop and then heard a voice not so distant. “I’m sorry.” An unfamiliar, deep yet friendly voice. “Just endure it for a little bit more.” But why did it feel like I’ve heard this line somewhere before. I’m sorry, just endure it for a little bit more. I’ll take you to your new home soon. It suddenly came to mind. While walking at the crossing on my way home, I bumped into a child who seemed anxious while carrying a hamster cage, then a car hit my body. I instinctively felt my death then, all my senses were occupied by the fact that I was hit by a car, and my consciousness started fading away. Twinkle. In front of my eyes something glistened brightly. Wait a minute, what’s that blue thing… [ Hello World! ] I was stunned by the blue system filling up my field of vision. A familiar phrase, the most basic sentence someone with programming knowledge would know. This is the very first phrase you learn to code when you start programming. Then, several windows came up one after another.

[ Connection confirmed. Checking data. ] [ Determining quest. ] [ Calculating miracle value. ] [ Synchronization not complete. Please wait. ] [ Synchronization 0% complete. ] What does this mean? Data? Quest? Synchronization? Since the moment I woke up, this ridiculous situation started and kept going, I didn’t even get the chance to be surprised. While in a daze, the horse which had been rattling the cage non-stop suddenly fell silent and the owner of the voice earlier seemed to get off the horse. The tumultuous movement stopped, but I still felt nauseous. The cold wind blew into the cage, and I shivered. Suddenly, I heard another distant voice. “Your Highness, are you sure you don’t want to throw it out?” Your… Highness? First I rode a horse, now someone’s talking to a royal. These are words that you wouldn’t even hear in 21st century Korea. The term “Your Highness” is only something I heard as a child watching sageuk dramas. Then the deep voice I heard earlier replied. Sageuk is a k-drama genre in which characters wear historical costumes. “It’s a pup that was left alone by the horde, don’t you feel it’s a bit pitiful?” pup - baby hamster / horde - group of baby hamsters “What pity, Your Highness? It’s a child of a demonic beast, when it grows up,it will learn to seduce its prey.” I looked down at my small and round body, what do you mean seduce? Is this body even capable of seducing? In the first place, I’m not even a demonic beast, just a normal hamster, no I mean human! Heh, you’re quite convincing using that serious voice of yours, but you’re obviously joking! The man with the deep voice suddenly cut through my thoughts. “It’s still a child.” “A child of a demonic beast, Your Highness.” “That’s right, a child.” “Your Highness, the most important thing is that it’s a demonic beast!” That… Can you please stop referring to me as a child. It’s weird… While I was grumbling away my frustrations, I heard the man speak, this time anger laced his voice. “Are you questioning my decision?” He spoke words that could normally be taken lightly yet the way he enunciated it word by word felt like a threat, and that there was only one correct answer. “No, Your Highness, I was just momentarily confused since such a thing has never happened before. How dare I question the Grand Prince’s decision.” “Right. So, I’ll take care of it, surely you don’t think I am weaker than a demonic beast that’s barely the size of my fist?” You’re telling me he’s not just a royal, he’s the Grand Prince? “I already sent a man to the estate to prepare it's house, it would be fun to add little ornaments with it.” “Your Highness, you can also raise a real hamster, should I tell the man to prepare another one?” “No. Don’t test my patience.” “…Yes” This person is quite stubborn huh.

Soon the cage started shaking again, this time as the man walked, I could hear his armor rattling and his heavy footsteps rang. Then I felt the air around me get warmer little by little as he marched up the stairs.

It must be winter. Yet I died during summer, now I realize the abnormality of the situation. The man took me to a room and then removed the cloth covering the cage.

“Here we are.” I crouched in a corner and pretended to be asleep desperately. Somehow it felt like the smart thing to do, I couldn’t speak even if I wanted to tell him about my situation. Even if I told him, who’s to say he will not decapitate me for spewing nonsense.

How did my life become like this! Give me back my money! My skills! My future that was unfolding brilliantly! “Tsk. Tsk.” The man clicked his tongue, then he sighed deeply. Hey! I’m the one who’s supposed to be sad at this situation, why are you the one clicking your tongue! Ah, I really hate when people do that… Oh right, I was pretending to be asleep… Sleep… “Does it really not have a human heart?” He murmured.

What human heart? What is he talking about? “Looking at these naive eyes, before it turned into a demonic beast, did it really not have the heart of a human?” N-naive? Which eyes looked naive? Surely it’s not mine? “That’s right, for them there’s no such thing as compassion... Did I stay away from the North for too long? It’s no different from a glacier, it’s freezing. Tsk.” Suddenly, the man opened the cage, stretched out his hand and caught me in his palm.

― Eek! I was so surprised I forgot I was pretending to sleep, as I opened my eyes, I made eye contact with him.

[ 50% synchronized. ]

[ Kyle Jane Minehardt. Great Duke of Blake. ]

The blue system window showed up below his face. Hold on, this name, I’ve heard of it somewhere. Without knowing what was in my head the whole time, he raised me closer to his face. I felt his warm hand full of scars and calluses against my soft fur. Then he rubbed my cheek.

E-excuse me?! “You did well enduring the ride home, cashew nut, you must’ve been bored the whole way.” Bored? The ride was full of shock and horror for me, okay?! Wait, aside from that, can’t you put me down first? What the hell is this situation, why did you suddenly remove me from the cage… Wait! No! Don’t peck me! ― Squeak! Eek!  [ Let me go! ]

“Yes, yes, I know how you feel.” What do you know… You don’t understand a thing! Ack! Why’s he kissing me like he’s dying of love! A kiss… ― Squeak! Squeak! Squeak!  [ You bastard! What kind of dog kisses nonstop like you?! ]

“I’m glad you’re feeling better.” ― Squeak! [ Get lost! ] “Did you like being kissed?” I can’t take this anymore!

Wait a minute… This face… I took a moment to observe all his features, his pale yet tough complexion, distinct eyebrows, his hair that’s dark as a raven, his eyes which glowed crimson. A cold and resolute beauty.

― Eek! [ Grand Duke Blake ] I remember. The Duke of the North, Kyle. A supporting actor from the novel, The Heart of Winter, I always read while traveling to and from my company. Not only was he a supporting actor, he’s a supporting actor that dies in the middle of the novel. A man who’s life was miserable from start to finish, yet died with no regrets. The reason why I remember him, and not the protagonists of the story, was that he’s the unluckiest character in the novel. He was unlucky to the extent that I lamented his cold fate many times.

So, I died, and transmigrated into a novel? “Cashew nut?” Cashew nut, my name, I mean the name of the hamster’s body I’m occupying. Kyle stared at me, he seemed to be worried as if something went wrong. His gaze was warm and full of kindness.

Stop looking at me! This bastard, you’re gonna pierce through me with that stare! I’m just worn out… I flicked my head away from his stare, and turned back to glare at him. I tried my hardest to look as mean as possible.

“That look…” It’s scary right?! You’re so afraid you could die, right? I look like a dangerous demon, don’t I?! So put me down!!! You kiss crazed bastard! [ Cold and strict personality. Clean and thorough. Frigid and Merciless. ] “You look so cute, staring at me like that.” Aren’t you the cold blooded Duke of the North?! Let go of me! What do you mean cold and strict?! What merciless? ― Squeak! [ Let go! ]

Yet the Duke didn’t let me down for a long time and I had to put up with the crazy kisses the he bestowed.

Help me, please! Save this hamster!

novel ⠀✿⠀ next

[immeasurablesaladagere]

can i just get a mini fic ab viktor regressing infront of all his siblings for the first time. (classification au) and just being really anxious and insecure? Tysm salad!! :))

Order up! Season 1 but he was Viktor the whole time. I bend canon to fulfill my fanfic needs :)

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Word Count: 603

Summery: Viktor regresses after Luther's family dinner idea goes south.

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Family dinner was a bad idea.

Diego slammed his fist down on the table, “Oh yeah, we can all just be a big happy family now that Dad’s gone! Pull your head outta your ass, Luther!” 

“I’m just trying to have a nice family dinner, like the old days! Why can’t you just accept that not everyone is as determined to hold onto this grudge as you!?” Luther shot back, looking around the table expectantly at them for some kind of support.

No one said anything. Viktor kept his gaze glued firmly down at his plate and pushed around the baked bean sprouts. They were still icky, just like they had been when they were kids, but Mama still kept making them. The only good thing about the arguing was that is was keeping his family distracted from his current problem; that he was little. His siblings all knew his classification by now, they’d read his book, but he’d never, ever been small with them before. He didn’t know exactly how they would react if they found out he was small, but he knew they wouldn’t be nice, so he was determined to keep it a secret. Just a few more hours, and he could ride the bus home. Hopefully he’d be big by then, the bus was scary.

Allison had joined into the shouting match now. They were getting really loud now, and it made the shaky feeling in his stomach grow. He wanted to cover his ears but that would give him away, so he just tightened his grip on his fork and bit his lip. He wished he was with Five. He got to skip family dinner.

There was a warping sound, and the table went silent. Five teleported into the room and without a word, grabbed the plate from his empty seat and began filling it with food. Or maybe he didn't?

“Can you all shut up? It’s hard to do world-saving calculations with you all screaming like idiots.” He snapped. He briefly glanced at Viktor as he was taking a scoop of mashed potatoes, then stopped and squinted more closely. Viktor shrunk back in his chair. Please don’t say anything.

“How long were you morons going to argue in front of a regressed little?”

Allison raised an eyebrow. “What? What are you—?” Her eyes landed on Viktor, and suddenly, all of the eyes at the table were on him. “Oh, honey…”

Viktor pushed away his plate, dropped his head to the table, and whined. They were gonna be upset now. He wasn’t supposed to be little here and he was hiding it so well!

“How did you..?” Luther trailed off.

Five snorted. “It’s obvious. He’s pushing around his bean sprouts, which he hated when we were kids, and he was looking at you all like a scared animal. Have any of you guys even been around a little since you were classified?” 

A hand landed on Viktor’s shoulder and he jumped. He nervously looked up at Five, but he didn’t look upset with him. 

“Come on, why don’t you come upstairs with me and I’ll tell you about my experiments.”

Viktor looked around the dinner table. Everyone was staring at him, and he shrunk away from their eyes. “Mhm.” 

He got up quickly and followed Five out of the dining room, fiddling with his shirt. “‘Thought I was doing a good job…” He mumbled.

Five gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “Eh, you were. But it takes one to know one, kid.”

Viktor’s eyes widened. “You’re—?”

“Less talkie, more walkie. I’ve got a lot of work to do.”

[cosmicmatter]

Types of Triggers

Following you will find an explanation of different types of triggers.

Time-related triggers. 

You may have heard of “anniversary reactions,” in which a person has a predictable and involuntary reaction on or around the anniversary of a traumatizing event. This experience is most well known in people who have intense grief reactions each year around the anniversary of the loss of a loved one. But anniversary reactions may be evoked for a wide variety of other events. At first, you may not recognize an anniversary reaction, but you or your therapist may begin to notice that you, for instance, become depressed, or very anxious, or feel suicidal around the same time each year, time after time. 

Time-related triggers may also involve a time of day or a particular period of time, such as weekends or holidays (see also chapter 16). For example,  some traumatized people may become increasingly fearful and anxious as it becomes dark each evening, related to overwhelming experiences that may have occurred around that time.

Place-related triggers. 

Many people find it hard to return to places where they were abused or had other highly distressing experiences. This avoidance can generalize to other places that remind them of the original situation, prompting them to evade more places and experiences to prevent triggering. For example, if a person had been robbed or assaulted on a bus, he or she might be inclined to avoid all busses. And eventually, this person may come to avoid any public transportation, including trains, trams, and planes. 

Many traumatized people regularly report that they are upset or overwhelmed by crowded spaces, such as shopping malls, long checkout lines, or crowded waiting rooms. Their aversion often has nothing to do with a traumatic memory, but rather they feel overstimulated and trapped, which may be similar to inner experiences they felt during traumatic events in the past. Even though some parts may be triggered by certain places, other parts may not be; they may even enjoy, for example, riding in the train or flying, or being at the mall. These contradictory experiences may set up internal conflicts, because some parts may dismiss or even be unaware that a trigger is problematic for other parts.

Relational triggers. 

Relationships themselves are often triggers. Relationships and any perceived threat to them evoke the most powerful feelings in everyone, for better or worse. When you have been mistreated by others, intense feelings of abandonment, rejection, humiliation, shame, panic, yearning, and rage are often easily triggered by the minor ups and downs that are a natural part of even the best of relationships. And when a serious relational disruption occurs, it can feel catastrophic. Some parts of you may always be on guard, looking out for any cues that perhaps you are being rejected or criticized, and thus they may overlook important cues to the contrary. Others may desperately seek out relationships, not attending to whether they are healthy (see chapters 28 and 29 for more about relationships). Many patients with complex dissociative disorders rightly felt criticized, lonely, and misunderstood as children. Anger or critical remarks by a partner or a friend in the present may quickly give rise to a partial reliving of old experiences, such as intense fear of being abandoned or misunderstood, or fear that you cannot speak your mind without terrible consequences.

Internal triggers.

People who have a dissociative disorder have typically learned to avoid much of their inner experience in order to avoid traumatic memories (see chapter 5). Any inner experience may be triggering, such as the sound of another part talking or yelling, certain emotions (anxiety, anger or shame, and so forth), sensations (such as pain, sweating), needs (such as wanting to be comforted), or thoughts (such as “I wish I was dead” or “I am not happy in this relationship”). Some parts may even provoke other parts as an internal reenactment of old experiences. For example, a highly critical part might scream that you are stupid when you are trying your best to cope with a difficult problem at work. This inner experience may be quite similar to some you may have had as a child. 

Sensory triggers. 

Body sensations are a particular type of internal trigger. These may resemble similar sensations that occurred around the time of a traumatizing event. Smells are particularly potent triggers. Other sensations include pain, the racing heart and breathlessness of anxiety, feeling too hot or cold, nausea, thirst, hunger, stomachache, the need to eliminate, or even certain body postures. Some women may be triggered by the sensations that accompany menstruation. The sense of being touched by another person may be especially triggering from some individuals.

Triggers for Positive Experiences

Triggers are usually thought of as negative, but some triggers evoke positive feelings and memories. For example, looking at pictures of a nice holiday that you enjoyed, the smell or taste of a specific food, or particular music may all evoke positive memories and feelings of contentment or warmth. Positive triggers are important because they can help you find some enjoyment and calmness in the present. In fact, your personal anchors are positive triggers that help you stay in the present.

Coping With Trauma Related Dissociation

[tiptoelightlypastmymind]

One time i really wanted to try American style pizza, because it always looked really good on TV, so i tried looking up American style pizza places on google maps and found somewhere about two hours away. A bus ride later, i discovered to my surprise that this pizza shop was in a red light district, and the street was lined sex toy shops, brothels, and at least one gay club (catered to bears, going by the images on the wall outside) called "The Meat Market".

Now I am liberal minded and sex positive, but i am also a socially anxious farm girl raised in a rural area, and i hadnt lived in the city long, i had never even been near a red light district in my life, and i had come here for pizza, not penises, so this turn of events stunned me a bit.

While staring in surprise at my new surroundings, about two dozen or so muscular men, all dressed identically in white tank tops and blue cargo shorts, walked up the street and down the stairs into The Meat Market, which didn't help the feeling that i had encountered a glitch in the matrix.

I did find the pizza shop, but they were out of pizza for the night :(

this is my favorite story anyone has shared with me on this webbed site. i've been trying to come up with a response for what feels like ages. there is nothing i can add to this. it's perfect.