#wanted to get it done so don’t have to think abt it further

[tsunagite]

Saw something particularly upsetting in regards to maimai, so I drew this instead. Would this count as an x reader…?

[luvismenu]

Only When It's Us — JJK ,, index ,, about taglist

Chapter 02 — distraction ✎

fic summary: you both say it’s nothing serious, but with every touch and argument, it gets harder to stay away.

nsfw warnings: smut; lots of kissing, lots of touching lol, oral (male recieving, fem too? kinda), sucking fingers, doggy style, unprotected sex (shes using birth control so yep, be safe!) use of ‘good girl’

wc: 6k

📜 permanent taglist: @lovieku @kyuupii @fluttershypoo @deluluisdasolulu @ddanasjk @mar-lo-pap @jungkooks-wife @diamondjeon @nnybtitts08 @lil0u0 @butnotmontana @fr0ggieth1nk @minimoninini @whoa-jo @lola75111 @iswearimover5feetall @rispwr @leemonis-blog

📜 series taglist: @deepikhaprakash @rjooniesdimples @sweetmimosa28

abt series taglist: send me an ask w the series title !!

“i have to go.”

“why don’t you just come back home? you can start over, and this time, maybe you’ll be more like your brother.”

you sigh.

“mom, i don’t want to be him,” you say quietly, trying to keep the frustration out of your voice. on the other end, you hear her let out a soft, disapproving tsk, a sound that always manages to make you feel a little smaller.

“aren’t you clearly struggling with school? if you were here with us, with your brother, we’d help you. you’d be fine,” she insists, as if coming home would magically fix everything.

you roll your eyes.

“i really have to go.”

“___, just listen to—”

but before she can finish, you end the call, staring at the blank screen for a moment.

there’s an unsettling feeling in your chest, one that refuses to fade, no matter how much you try to brush it off. its like a quiet reminder of all the things you’re trying to avoid.

go back home?

after everything you’ve been through to study what you want, to finally live on your own terms. every argument, every latenight fight with your parents, all just to claim a bit of freedom.

you worked so hard to break free from their expectations, to stand on your own.

you even transferred universities just to escape the constant pressure back in your hometown. no matter what you did, it was never enough. every choice was somehow wrong, not ‘their way.’

you can’t go back now.

not until you’ve made it, not until you have something real to prove them wrong. you have to be successful, if only to show them that your way was the right way all along.

“hey, are you done thinking? never seen anyone contemplate cheerios this hard.”

min yoongi’s low voice pulls you out of your thoughts. you look up, finding him behind the cash register, his lips curving into a small smile.

“just wondering if i can actually trust your store’s products. what if you are some sort of cheerio secret agent and you're trying to poison me?” you joke, handing him the money.

“oh no, you figured it out. we’ve been poisoning the cheerios. now how am i gonna explain to my boss that our mission failed?” he dramatically placesb a hand on his forehead as if you revealed his deepest darkest secret. you can’t help but chuckle, the tension in your chest loosening just a bit.

“bad day?” he asks, his gaze softening a bit as he opens the cash register.

min yoongi; your friend.

well, he's more like your senior. he graduated last year and he is working parttime at this convenience store cuz he thinks in this way he could spend some time outside.

you didn't question him about it any further.

you don’t usually come here unless it’s an emergency, and breakfast for tomorrow qualifies as pretty urgent, or so you tell yourself.

“something like that,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

he nods slightly. “well,” he begins, “i’m sorry i can’t give you a discount,” he adds, trying to lighten the mood.

you chuckle, the corners of your mouth lifting. “aw, that’s too bad. i thought i might get these cheerios for free.”

he smiles softly, “maybe some other time,"

you smile back at yoongi and turn to leave. but then you almost bump your head against a man’s chest, stumbling back in surprise.

that was close.

you look up to apologize, but your words get caught in your throat as you take in his appearance.

he’s handsome.

no, that doesn’t even begin to cover it. his face is sculpted to perfection, with sharp cheekbones and a jawline that could cut glass. his dark eyes seem to pierce right through you, and his long, dark hair falls effortlessly over his forehead.

but there’s something else,

he looks... mad?

you quickly gather yourself, your cheeks warming slightly. “sorry,” you blurt out, stepping aside to let him pass.

as you walk out of the store, you catch a snippet of conversation behind you.

“are you still upset about her, jungkook?” yoongi’s voice carries just enough for you to hear.

you try to shake it off, not wanting to dwell on whatever is unfolding behind you. it’s not your business, after all.

you step outside, the cool air hitting your face as you leave the store, and try to focus on the tasks ahead of you.

“it doesn’t make any sense, hyung,” jungkook scoffs, the frustration bubbling up inside him.

“when did she ever make sense?” yoongi replies dryly, not backing down as he meets jungkook’s glare. the tension in the air feels thick, but yoongi isn’t afraid to speak his mind.

“from my point of view, you’re now a free man. free from all the bullshit you’ve been through,” yoongi explains, hoping to lift jungkook’s spirits.

“what bullshit? i was happy. we were happy,” jungkook frowns, his confusion evident. he shifts his weight from one foot to the other, struggling to comprehend yoongi’s words.

“that’s what she wanted you to think,” yoongi replies, his tone serious. “and to be honest, that’s what you always did. you did whatever she wanted. you changed for her.”

“i loved her,” jungkook insists, his voice a bit softer but still filled with conviction, as if saying it out loud would make it true.

“did you? really?” yoongi presses, searching jungkook’s eyes for any hint of doubt. he knows this is a tough conversation, but it needs to be talked out.

jungkook looks away and mutters. “you don’t get it,”

yoongi’s expression softens. he presses his lips together as he looks at jungkook, feeling bad for him. “i’m sorry, jungkook. but you really have to let it go now. it’s been two weeks. it’s time to start moving on.”

jungkook stays silent.

instead of responding, he reaches for a lollipop displayed near the cash register, the bright colors contrasting sharply with his gloomy mood. he hands yoongi some money, more than what the lollipop costs, as if he’s paying for more than just candy.

“do you want the change, or can i keep it as a tip for my great service slash friendship?” yoongi tries to lighten the mood, hoping to bring a smile to jungkook’s face.

and it does.

jungkook’s lips curl into a faint smile, a small but genuine response. “keep it,” he says softly.

as jungkook turns to leave, yoongi watches him go, feeling sad for his friend.

“bad day indeed.”

you're sat on a bench in the park near the convenience store, lost in your own thoughts. the quiet sounds of the evening settle around you, the faint rustle of leaves, the distant hum of traffic, and your own sighs mingling with the cool air.

you’re not really thinking about anything in particular, just letting your mind wander in that aimless way it does when everything feels overwhelming.

then, a loud voice cuts through your thoughts.

“no, i know you're hiding something from me!” someone snaps, his voice taut with irritation. “fine! have it your way then.”

curious, you glance over and recognize him immediately; the same man from earlier at the store, the one you’d nearly bumped into.

he’s pacing as he talks on his phone, one hand running through his dark hair in exasperation. his jaw is clenched, his brows furrowed, and you can practically feel the tension radiating off him even from a distance.

after a moment, he ends the call with an aggravated sigh, stuffing his phone into his pocket as he makes his way into the park, still visibly upset. he barely notices his surroundings as he walks closer to where you’re sitting.

he sighs, tilting his head back and closing his eyes, muttering something under his breath as if willing the frustration to melt away. you can’t help but stare a little, like an idiot.

then his eyes snap open and land directly on you.

“got a problem with me?” his voice is sharp, cutting through the silence between you.

you blink, startled, and stand up instinctively. “excuse me?”

he turns fully to face you, his eyes never leaving yours. “i asked, you got a problem with me?”

“no.” you shake your head, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“good.”

wow. nice attitude.

just as you’re about to walk away, he calls out again.

“never seen you around here before.”

“pardon?” you turn back, surprised.

“you’re yoongi's friend, right?” he asks,

you cross your arms, giving him a wary look. “why do you care?”

he shrugs, almost nonchalant. “my bad, just curious. never seen yoongi smile at a normal customer before, so i assumed.”

“oh,” you reply, softening just a bit. “well, i guess you could say we're friends.”

he raises an eyebrow, an amused smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “you guess?”

you offer a small shrug of your own. “he used to help me when i was still a freshman, and he still tries to whenever he can. i'd say he's like my teacher, in a way. it’s not like we hang out or anything, though.”

he tilts his head, considering your words. “well, consider yourselves friends. trust me, he doesn’t just help anyone.”

you narrow your eyes slightly, still wary. “and who are you, exactly?”

“jeon jungkook,” he says, extending a hand with a surprisingly polite nod. instinctively, you reach out and shake it, his grip firm. “since you're yoongi's friend, i think we go to the same university. though this is the first time i’m seeing you.”

“same, i am ___,” you pull your hand back.

“what are you doing here, in the middle of the night? didn’t your parents ever tell you not to go out alone?” he asks, the way he talks is somewhere between teasing and serious. you can't quiet get what it is but something about it grates on your nerves, like he's playing at being concerned but in a way that feels almost mocking.

“i could ask you the same thing,” you shoot back, meeting his gaze head on.

he doesn’t flinch, only tilts his head slightly. “i always come here,” he says, his voice calm, almost like a matterof fact.

“same,” you respond. “during the day.��

he quirks a brow, “so why are you in my night shift?”

you scoff, a laugh slipping out before you can stop it. “this isn’t your place or ‘shift,’ you know."

“well, you come here during the day; i come here at night. sounds like shifts to me,” he says with a shrug, and you catch the playfulness on his face.

“guess i’m overtiming, then,” you say, glancing away to hide your own smirk. “don’t mind me.”

he stays silent.

“you’ve got your own shit to deal with, huh?” he says, his voice breaking the quiet.

“why are you talking to me?” you blurt out, catching him a little off guard. “i mean, you don’t even know me.”

he raises an eyebrow, unphased. “i could ask you the same thing,” he replies, mimicking your answer from before.

you narrow your eyes, folding your arms. “i don’t think i want to talk about my problems with a random stranger.”

“problems…” he echoes, looking you up and down like he’s trying to figure you out. “let me guess. got into a fight with your boyfriend?”

“no,” you say quickly, rolling your eyes. “i don’t have one.” for a second, you think you catch a flicker of surprise on his face. “what about you? girlfriend mad at you?”

his face shifts, something almost vulnerable passing over his features before he looks away. “guess you could say that,” he mutters. “since she broke things off with me.”

a silence stretches between you two.

“i’m… sorry to hear that,” you finally say, feeling the awkwardness settle around you.

you didn't expect that.

honestly, the idea of someone like him getting dumped hadn’t even crossed your mind. a guy who looks like that—that intense aura—doesn’t exactly seem like the type to get left behind.

you assumed he’d be the one calling the shots, the one walking away. but here he is, single and clearly dealing with the aftermath of something that’s weighing on him. its surprising.

a thought crosses yourmind.

if someone could leave him, someone who had a place in his life and a claim to his heart, maybe he’s not as perfect as he seems on the outside. maybe there’s something beneath the surface, something that’s harder to deal with than his looks would suggest.

it’s like a puzzle you didn’t even mean to start solving, yet here you are, wondering if there’s more to him than just that handsome face.

but then you shake the thought away. he’s a stranger. a random guy you happened to bump into, quite literally, at a park in the middle of the night. it’s not like you’ll see him again after tonight. or, at least, that’s what you’re telling yourself.

because, really, why should you care?

whatever his story is, it’s none of your business.

“anyway, hope you figure your problems out.” he says, his gaze flickering away as if he’s eager to dodge any deeper conversation.

“likewise,” you reply.

without warning, he pulls a lollipop from his pocket, holding it out to you. “here,” he says, waiting for you to take it.

you reach out slowly, raising an eyebrow. “thanks?”

he smirks, “again, did your parents never tell you not to take candy from strangers?”

“maybe i like to be a little rebellious,” you say, smirking back at him and he shakes his head smiling.

“well, go ahead, eat it. i don’t want you tossing it away. i spent a lot on that sucker,” he says, a playful grin spreading across his face. despite the oddness of the moment, a corner of your mouth quirks up.

you unwrap the lollipop, examining it with a critical eye before giving him a look that says it all.

he catches it, tilting his head in curiosity. “what?”

“i don’t think i like raspberry flavor,” you admit, holding the lollipop up like a trophy of sorts.

he squints at you, “you’ve never tasted one before?”

you shrug, trying to sound nonchalant. “i don’t like raspberries, so i’m guessing this is more of the same.”

he shakes his head, lips twitching into a smirk. “that’s pretty bold, making assumptions without even trying it.”

“just give it a taste; maybe you'll like it,” he suggests, a teasing smile forming on his lips, clearly wanting you to try it. deep down, he doesn't even like raspberry flavor; he just picked it out randomly at the store.

“uh, no thanks. i don’t want that nasty taste on my tongue,” you reply, scrunching your nose a little . “but thanks, you could have—”

your words are abruptly cut off as he grabs your hand, the lollipop still held tightly between your fingers. in one swift motion, he leans in, wrapping his mouth around it. his tongue swirls around the candy, and then he pulls it out, his lips glistening with a reddish-pink hue that matches the flavor.

you're completely taken aback, eyes widening in shock.

oh what the fuck.

“yeah, you’re right. it does taste nasty,” he says, licking his lips as he releases your hand. “give it to me, i'll just throw it away or something”

suddenly, the lollipop feels trivial compared to what he just did. you stand there, completely speechless, your mind and heart racing as you try to process what jus happened.

“what?” he stares at you.

“you’re good with your tongue,” you say, the words slipping out before you can really think them through.

he pauses, his eyes widening for a second, and he chokes on nothing, almost like he’s been caught off guard mid-breath. “uh, what?” he finally manages, blinking rapidly.

realizing how that might’ve sounded, “i just meant... the lollipop. you seemed pretty skilled with it,” you clarify, though you’re aware it’s not really helping.

what are you even trying to say?

he looks at you, a smirk playing on his lips now. “uh-huh, sure,” he says, teasing you. “that’s what you meant.”

you roll your eyes, trying to play it cool. “don’t flatter yourself, i was just making an observation.”

but the way he’s looking at you now, dark eyes glittering with amusement and something else you can’t quite place, makes it hard to pretend that slip of the tongue didn’t mean more than you intended.

“so, do you want to suck on it?”

“huh?” you blink.

suck on what now?

“the lollipop” he clarifies, a small smile playing on his lips.

oh.

you clear your throat, fighting to keep a neutral expression. “no, definitely not, especially now that you had your tongue all over it.” you try to scrunch your nose, but any attempt at showing disgust falls flat with the heat rising in your cheeks.

“alright then, just asking if you changed your mind,” he shrugs, still holding your gaze.

“i still don’t want it,” you say quickly, trying to sound convincing.

“okay.” he blinks, unfazed.

“okay,” you repeat, awkwardly.

he gestures to the lollipop still in your hand. “uh, so… are you gonna keep holding it?”

you glance down, pulling your hand back. “i’m gonna throw it away,” you declare, though it feels a bit ridiculous now, given everything that just happened.

“i hope so,” he says, one side of his lips quirking up.

why do you kind of like his smile?

you try to shake your thought off, tossing the lollipop into a nearby trash can, trying to act as casual as possible.

“well, guess that's the end of that,” you say, hoping to sound nonchalant. he nods as he crosses his arms.

you raise an eyebrow, mimicking his stance. “do you usually hand out half-eaten lollipops to strangers?”

he laughs, low and soft, the sound surprisingly warm in the quiet night. “only when they look like they need a little distraction.”

you tilt your head. “oh? and what made you think i needed one?”

his eyes meet yours, his expression softening. “just a hunch,” he says, his voice dropping to a murmur. “we all got stuff we’d rather not think about, right?”

a pause.

there’s something unspoken between you two, a quiet understanding in the way you hold each other’s gaze.

he's right.

you are stressing about things you'd rather not think about, things that seem to cling to your mind no matter how hard you try to push them away.

and then there's him, a stranger but somehow not, going through his own mess. you can see it in his tired eyes, the way he keeps looking off into the distance as if trying to shake off whatever weight he's carrying.

you realize you don’t mind it; you don’t mind his company, or even the strange comfort of this shared silence.

both of you are here, each trying to forget whatever it is that’s eating at you. maybe that’s why this moment feels so easy.

”yeah,” you finally say, “guess we do.”

“i gotta go now,” you announce, hoping to put an end to whatever weird tension is building between the two of you.

he doesn't say anything. no goodbyes, no attempts to stop you. so you turn and start walking away, trying to shake off whatever just happened.

but before you can take more than a few steps, his hand shoots out, wrapping around your wrist. you stop, surprised, and turn back to face him. his grip isn’t tight, but it’s firm enough to make you pause.

you meet his gaze, and there's something in his eyes—something intense, something that makes your stomach flip.

“would you like a distraction?” he asks, voice low, almost like a whisper meant just for you.

you blink, not sure if you heard him right. “what?” you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

instead of answering, he tugs you gently closer. your body stumbles forward, and your hands land on his chest to steady yourself. his heartbeat is strong under your palm, and suddenly, everything feels too close, too intense.

he looks down at you, his eyes flickering over your face like he’s searching for something. “i think i do,” he mutters. “don’t you?”

your mind is racing, trying to make sense of this.

is he asking what you think he’s asking?

he’s a stranger. someone you barely know beyond a couple of conversations and an awkward encounter in a convenience store.

yet there’s something about the way he’s looking at you, something that makes it hard to think straight.

“yes,” you hear yourself say before you can even process it.

his lips curve into a satisfied smile, and without another word, he leans in and kisses you.

the world seems to stop as his mouth meets yours. it’s not hesitant or soft; it’s urgent, as if he’s been wanting this for longer than the short time you’ve known him. his hands slide up to your face, cupping your cheeks as he deepens the kiss.

your fingers clutch his shirt, feeling the heat of his body against yours. it’s messy and impulsive, and he doesn't even care that you’re both in the middle of a park, under the dim glow of the streetlights.

right now, all you can think about is him. the way he tastes, the way he kisses you desperately.

maybe you do need this distraction.

his hands grip your waist, pulling you closer, and you instinctively wrap your arms around his neck, letting the kiss deepen. his lips are soft, and you moan as if you're melting into the kiss. there's something about the way his mouth moves against yours; like he's been waiting to do this.

“wait—” you pant as pull back, your heart pounding against your ribs, trying to gather your thoughts. he looks into your eyes, his brows furrowing slightly as he asks in a low voice, “what happened?”

“we're... we're outside,” you point out, glancing around.

he tilts his head, his brows raising slightly as if that’s the least of his concerns. “so?” his voice is low and almost teasing, like he finds your hesitation cute.

you let out a scoffing laugh, “what do you mean so?wee’re literally in a children’s park.” you gesture to the swings and slides nearby, deserted at this hour but still... it’s a public space.

he pauses for a second, “my car’s parked just over there,” he nods towards a sleek vehicle at the edge of the park, his lips curling into a smile. “we could, uh... relocate or—”

before you can even process that, your curiosity gets the better of you. “wait— you have a car?” you cut in, a little surprised.

he chuckles. “yeah, and it’s a pretty one at that.” there’s a glint in his eyes that says he’s enjoying this back-and-forth with you, like it’s some sort of game.

you sigh, still trying to wrap your head around the craziness of this entire situation. “okay,” you murmur, almost to yourself, deciding to just go with it. what’s the worst that could happen?

he releases his grip on you, but only so he can grab your hand and guide you towards the car. the walk feels a little awkward now, a heavy tension hanging in the air. you're not sure what to say.

what’s the protocol for walking towards a car with a guy you’re about to hook up with?

as if sensing your nerves, he gives your hand a gentle squeeze. “come on, my car’s comfy. don’t worry,” he says with a grin, trying to lighten the mood. the way he’s holding your hand... it’s surprisingly tender, making it feel just a little less awkward.

when you reach the car, he opens the back seat door for you. you hesitate for a second, “you won’t, like, kidnap me or something, right?” you half-joke.

he lets out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “for someone who’s so aware of the things you shouldn’t be doing, you sure do them anyway,” he teases. his words send a shiver down your spine, both a warning and an invitation.

but you ignore that nagging voice in the back of your mind. instead, you climb into the seat and he follows you right away.

“why are you—” your words are cut off as he crashes his lips against yours, the urgency in his kiss making you lose your breath. one of his hands grips your waist, pulling you against him, while the other tangles in your hair, tugging gently to tilt your head for better access.

the way his lips move against yours, hot and hungry, sends sparks shooting down your spine, and before you know it, you're moaning into his mouth, matching his intensity. your hands scramble to find something to hold onto, eventually locking behind his neck as if he's your lifeline.

“are we seriously gonna fuck in your car?” you gasp, your words shaky when he pulls away just enough to start trailing hot kisses down the side of your neck. your legs wrap around his waist instinctively, drawing him closer.

“no,” he breathes and sucks on a sensitive spot just beneath your ear, his teeth grazing the skin before he soothes it with a slow lick. “just couldn’t stop myself,” he admits, voice low and breathy, and then his mouth is back on yours, devouring you with a hunger that makes your head spin.

your hands move restlessly over his broad shoulders, wanting to feel more, wishing his clothes were gone so you could touch him everywhere.

his hands roam your body like he's memorizing it, fingers pressing into the curves of your waist, teasingly brushing against your chest. each touch has you arching into him, wishing he'd just tear your clothes apart already.

it's all too good.

too overwhelming, and before you know it, five minutes have passed with the two of you tangled in each other. when he finally pulls back, panting, his lips are swollen and glistening. your chest rises and falls rapidly as you try to catch your breath, both of you staring at each other in the dim light of the car.

he’s leaning back slightly, his hard on pressing against your thigh. it’s impossible not to notice how turned on he is, and it only makes your own arousal spike.

you're so fucking wet right now.

you’re laid back on the seat, eyes locked on him, watching the way he runs a hand through his disheveled hair, pushing it back revealing his forehead.

“hotel? or my place?” he asks, trying to catch his breath “hotel’s just a minute away, but my place… well, it’s a bit further.”

you can practically see the options laid out in your mind like a checklist.

a) go to the hotel, have your fun, and slip away without looking back. no strings, no regrets. just a quick fuck and disappear like it never happened.

b) go to his place, let him fuck the shit out of you, see if he’s worth all this heat between your thighs. maybe wake up in his bed with his arms still wrapped around you... and if he's good enough, maybe get his number so it doesn’t have to be a one time thing.

you bite your lip, your decision already made before you even realize it.

“yours.”

the drive to his apartment is quick, the tension between you both barely held back. you're glad it’s late at night, because the two of you can’t seem to keep your hands off each other and you don't want anyone witnessing it.

the second you step into his apartment, the door slams shut behind you, and it's a scramble to rid each other of clothing. shirts are yanked off, belts undone, pants shoved down until you're both stumbling towards his bedroom in a mess of heated kisses and needy touches.

“o-oh fuck—yes baby, suck it just like that,” jungkook throws his head back, moaning, his breath ragged. he’s sprawled on the bed, legs spread wide, hands gripping the sheets. you're on your knees between his thighs, sucking him hard, your lips stretching around his thick length.

you glance up at him, eyes half lidded, watching the way his abs flex as he tries to keep himself steady. “shit... you look so fucking hot,” he rasps out, voice rough. his gaze darkens, and he pushes himself up, one hand threading through your hair.

“can you take it, baby?” he asks, his voice low, a hint of a challenge in his tone.

you know exactly what he’s asking. you nod, barely managing it with your mouth full, and he smiles, almost wickedly, his eyes gleaming.

“good,” he murmurs, his grip tightening just enough on your hair. “tap me if it’s too much.” and with that, he starts moving his hips, fucking into your mouth with slow, deep thrusts.

you gag slightly as he pushes deeper, but you relax your throat, trying to take him in. the room is filled with the wet, obscene sounds of him moving in and out, his groans echoing off the walls.

“fuck—you’re taking me so well, baby,” he praises, his voice thick and raspy, sending a wave of heat straight to your core. each time his cock hits the back of your throat, it forces a choked gasp from him, his hands instinctively tightening in your hair.

your eyes water, tears pooling at your lashes, but you don’t stop, even as your throat aches. your nails dig into his firm thighs, using them for balance as he fucks your throat. you want to show him just how much you can handle.

“i’m gonna—” he grunts, voice rough and strained. a hot burst of his release fills your mouth, and you swallow it all, not breaking eye contact with him for a second. his chest heaves as he watches you, mesmerized, as your tongue slides slowly along his length, cleaning up every drop. his jaw clenches, the sight clearly driving him wild.

“get up,” he orders, voice still a little breathless, and you obey instantly, letting him pull you to your feet. “on the bed, all fours.”

you get onto the mattress, positioning yourself as he asked. there's a moment of stillness as you feel his gaze roam over your exposed body. your heart races, anticipation building as you wait for his next move.

“you’re dripping,” he murmurs, leaning in closer until his breath is hot against your soaked core. he licks a slow, deliberate stripe along your folds, and your eyes flutter shut, a soft, breathy moan escaping your lips. his mouth envelops your pussy, sucking and licking with an rhythm that makes your thighs tremble.

he pulls back just enough to catch his breath before moving up, positioning himself between your legs. his right hand trails upward, skimming over your skin until his fingers brush against your lips.

instinctively, you part them, taking his fingers into your mouth, sucking and swirling your tongue around them. the low chuckle that escapes him tells you just how much he enjoys it.

“you like that, hm?” he asks. you moan softly around his fingers, your response muffled but desperate.

he withdraws his fingers, his lips curving into a satisfied smirk. leaning down, he wraps an arm around your waist, lifting you slightly until your back is against his chest. you can feel his length pressing against your ass, you move your hips a little causing a little friction.

his hands slide over your breasts, kneading them with just enough pressure to send shivers down your spine.

you melt into his touch, your head lolling back against his shoulder as his fingers pinch and roll your hardened nipples, sending sparks of pleasure through your body.

“want me to fuck you, baby?” his voice is soft against your shoulder as he places feather light kisses along your skin. he nips gently, his hands never stopping their teasing, and you can’t help the whimper that escapes when his fingers pinch just a bit harder.

“y-yes,” you mewl, voice shaky with need, “fuck me, jungkook.”

he squeezes your breasts harder, a groan rumbling from his chest as he sinks his teeth lightly into the curve of your shoulder.

“yeah? can i fuck you raw?” he whispers, his breath hot against your ear.

“yes,” you gasp, your voice barely more than a whimper. “p-please.”

his grip on you loosens slightly, and he leans back to look at you, his eyes dark, like he's stopping himself. “you sure?” he asks, one last time, his tone gentle but urgent.

you nod quickly, breathless. “i’m on the pill,” you assure him, and the tension in his shoulders eases.

“fuck. okay, bend over.”

without hesitation, you resume your previous position, arching your back and presenting yourself to him. he groans softly at the sight, his hand sliding down to rub slow circles over your entrance.

he teases you, slipping a finger inside, making you moan softly as your walls flutter around him. he withdraws his finger, watching the way you clench around nothing, desperate for more.

grabbing his cock, he taps the swollen tip against your slick hole. you whine, impatience leaking into your voice, “just fuck me already.”

a smirk curves his lips, and without another word, he pushes into you.

you grip the sheets tightly as you take him in fully, your walls stretching to accommodate his thick length. a choked gasp escapes your lips, eyes squeezing shut at the delicious burn that quickly morphs into pleasure.

each inch fills you so completely, leaving you breathless, your body trembling at the feeling.

“fuck,” he groans behind you, his voice low and rough, a sound that makes your toes curl. “you’re so tight, baby... taking me so fucking good.” the words are almost a growl, filled with barely restrained control as he fights the urge to pound into you.

his hands move to your hips, gripping them hard enough to leave marks, steadying himself as he sinks even deeper.

your moans spill freely now, raw and needy, muffled slightly by the pillow you bury your face into. he starts to move, slowly at first, pulling out just enough before thrusting back in, his cock brushing against that sweet spot inside you.

the rhythm is torturously slow, each stroke making you whimper, your back arching even further in a silent plea for more.

“please... more,” you manage to gasp out, your voice shaky. “jungkook, i need it.. need you.”

“yeah?” he rasps, picking up the pace, thrusts becoming sharper, each one driving you into the mattress. “want it harder, baby? want me to ruin you?”

“yes.. yes mmph- more!” you cry, your voice breaking as he slams into you harder, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. your nails claw at the sheets, the friction of his hips against your ass making stars dance behind your eyelids.

his fingers snake around to your front, finding your swollen clit, and he rubs it in tight, quick circles. your entire body jolts, your hips bucking back against him as you let out a loud, broken moan.

“oh, fuck, that’s it, that's a good fucking girl,” he hisses, feeling you clench around him, your walls fluttering as you near the edge.

“you’re gonna cum for me, aren’t you?” he growls against your ear, bending over you now, his hot breath fanning against your neck. he bites down on your shoulder, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to drive you wild.

“you're gonna cum like the good girl you are?”

“yes n-ngh.. i’m close.. s-so close,” you whimper, your thighs trembling uncontrollably. his fingers press harder against your clit, his thrusts turning frantic.

“cum with me, baby” he demands, his voice thick and commanding. that’s all it takes. your body shatters. your vision going white as you scream his name. your walls squeeze him so tightly, milking his cock, and with a deep, guttural groan, he loses himself too, spilling inside you as his thrusts grow sloppy.

he stays buried inside you, his chest heaving against your back, both of you panting heavily. he leans down to press soft, lazy kisses along your shoulder.

after everything that just happened. you've made up your mind.

you're definitely going to ask for his number.

a/n: erm.. don't get into random strangers cars !! haha

[angelyuji]

yandere superman headcanons

tw kidnapping, "nice" guys/incel behavior (kinda), isolation as punishment, manipulation, yandere stuff... the usual

yandere clark kent x gn!reader

diana prince is next guys I LOVE WOMEN!!! lemme know abt any tags i miss or just any other superman thoughts (yandere or not) cuz i love superman a lot

hes so big and buff and strong

hhnhsdngnnhnhnngnfhgnnngngn

sorry

ive been obsessed with superman and lois recently and i thought to myself “i need him so bad id do unspeakable things”

ALSOOOOOO have u guys seen the new superman??? ohmygodddd HELLOOO SAILOR

anyway here we go :)

sweetest kindest angel alive… at first glance

actual clark is genuinely the best sweetest guy in the world and i don’t think that would technically change but if anything he’d start buying into the incel/nice guy pills and that’s what would warp him

he’s literally sooo sweet to you (i cant get over how much a of cutie pie clark kent is)

ok pause lemme start from the beginning

when he first met you, he was e n a m o u r e d like he thinks youre the most beautiful person in the world type stuff

at first, the relationship is normal, you guys are friends, study buddies, coworkers, yk normal shit

he’s still super in love but hes kinda aware that its one-sided and he can’t make you like him

you guys are super close friends tho

but as his crush progresses, he starts to consult more than his friends and normal relationship advice, he starts to consult incel chatrooms and subreddits

he wants to go further than friendship with you, but all the guys in these chatrooms are telling him awful things abt u. for example:

‘hi! requesting help for getting out of the friendzone with my friend’ i’ve been friends with them for a long time, but i see them as more than a friend. ive had to watch as they date all these awful people and i just want them to see me more than a friend. any advice is appreciated!

– dude these ungrateful bitches are never gonna see u

– people like them never see the good guy until its too late

– u just gotta make them like u, nobody understands the nice guy until u make them

– all of these responses are so weird, just be normal and flirt a little!

ur stupid fuckign idiot nice guys don’t get a chance till u make them give u chance

women are so fucking stupid

reading all these “helpful” comments really warped his mindset

he went from innocent farm boy to incel misogynist becuz

they have to be right! like why else have u not given him the time of day as more than a friend

so soon, ur gonna notice these changes

he went from being supportive bestie to making snide comments, putting you down, making moves on you that you clearly don’t want

ur hurt, heartbroken, your friend became something unrecognizable

u’ll ask for some distance, just to think abt if u want to continue the friendship and clark will realize that he can’t make you like him from just this

so you’re gonna go home, take a nap, and next thing you know you’re getting snatched from bed by freaking superman

he genuinely believes he’s done the right thing

he’ll bring u to the fortress first. he has everything set up already, so u wont freeze or starve to death

i wont bore with the details but he would NEVER lay a hand on u

that’s NOT my superman

its more like

“i need you to eat something.” clark begs you, his eyes filled with worry. he had crouched down next to where you sat. clark had given you free-reign around his fortress, but you chose to sit in the corner near the entrance.

“fuck you.” you turn away from him, anger dripping from your voice. you haven’t eaten since he brought you to his ice castle, but you can’t remember how long ago that was. you missed home, your friends, your family. you missed freedom. you hear clark sigh.

“you’re gonna get sick if you keep going like this, (y/n).” his hand touches your face and you slap his hand away. you know there was no way you could hurt superman, but he holds his hand looking hurt, and you feel a twinge of guilt. he holds out a bag from Big Belly Burgers and places it next to you.

you scooch back, your back hitting the wall, not willing to back down. “i’ll eat if you let me go.” you feel like a child throwing a tantrum, but you would do anything to go home.

you see him rub his forehead in frustration, “this isn’t working.” he mutters to himself. you don’t say anything, wanting to see what he would do. instead of trying to fight you again, clark picks up the bag. “i’ll come back when you’re ready.” he says.

“come back? what are you talking ab-” in one blast of air, clark was gone and you were alone.

days had gone by, you felt like you were going crazy from the solitude and the hunger. thankfully, clark had left mountains of water bottles for you, so you tried to fill up with those. it wasn’t enough, you had started to miss your kidnapper’s company after many conversations with yourself. all you could do was sleep or stare at the wall, blankly. after a week, you couldn’t take the isolation. “clark?” you call out, weakly. not a moment passes before he appeared before you.

his eyes were filled with pity and worry, “are you ready, sweetheart?” his hands cup your face and you lean into the warmth, nodding.

he could never hurt you. that entire week away was killing him, but the commenters were right. you just needed to know that he was all you needed.

[serqphites]

omg omg hi!! i love ur acc and adore ur writing <3 ik u get sm smut recs nd im sorry to be adding to the list but i was wondering if you could maybe write a fic of eating lee out? i just think she would be sooo whiny and pathetic its killing me!!!!

pls don't ever feel bad abt sending in reqs ! if i didn't want to ever write smut again then i assure you i would js say :) also that's so kind of you thank you so much ml <3

—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—

it’s that time again, lee’s hand tugging at your belt as she whines into your mouth, her tongue dancing with your own. but something feels different today, almost as if you don’t really deserve it this time? like yes of course you’ve been to work too, but your job is nothing compared to what your girlfriend has to endure every single day.

her whines only become more desperate as she pulls away from the kiss, no words necessary because she's flashing you those gosh darn lost puppy eyes. leaning in once more, you press a soft kiss to her lips before pulling away and batting your hungry eyes at her (despite lee chasing after your mouth, whining again when you resist).

"not today baby, let me treat you mkay? just lay back beautiful" lee's hesitant at first, frowning before nodding and moving to lay beside you on her back.

all past confusion and cares are forgotten once her pants are off, her touch starved pussy practically crying for you. "so wet already? we haven't even done anything" pouting at her as you mock her, you position yourself between her legs, the heat radiating from her only intensifying your cravings.

"missed you today" she mutters sheepishly, head held up as she peeks down at whatever you're about to do to her.

cut to lee's hands tangled up in your hair, attempting to pull you impossibly close to her throbbing clit as she grinds her hips desperately against your face. lee could swear she's never felt anything like this in her life, you weren't joking when you told her she'd practically made you see god every time she's gone down on you.

"fuckshit- js'like that- mmm you're s'good" you can barely understand her, whimpers like a distant echo behind her slurred words as your tongue takes her to heaven and back.

you've never heard lee sound so... pathetic. i mean yeah she has always been whiny with you, but never before have you heard her be so vocal during sex, that's usually your job. "taste s'good" your words are obviously muffled against her, not wanting to pull away from your poor girl and ruin her building orgasm.

lee's whines and failed sentences turned whimpers eventually fade into cries of pure pleasure, that tight knot building in her abdomen. how can you tell? because her hand slides down to her stomach, pressing down slightly on just the right spot. classic trick, it's almost poetic to watch her do it to herself. even more arousing to know it's all because of you.

"i- i-" god she's trying so hard to get out the words she needs to, tears pricking at her eyes over how desperately she wants to tell you exactly what she needs. poor, pathetic thing.

nodding against her, you bring a hand up to rest atop her own that's currently pushing down onto her stomach, adding more pressure just to further her enjoyment. whines and moans build and build, echoing throughout the room and bouncing off of the walls before one last final cry of your name. lee comes undone for you, cum pooling into your mouth, her hips religiously rocking against your face as she rides out her high.

you can't just leave her like that though, right? that's just not fair, lee always makes sure to clean you up when she's done with you.

making sure you don't miss a drop of cum, your tongue travels around her messy cunt in search of more. lee's being driven insane above you, legs shaking like a leaf as she jolts and jitters with every swipe of your tongue against her plump clit.

deciding you've had enough fun with her, you press one last tender kiss to her pretty pussy before crawling up lay on her heaving chest, breath heavy and uneven. "good?" voice gentle, you trace patterns to her slightly revealed chest, only a few buttons being undone.

"good." poor baby sounds so exhausted, her eyes fluttering closed at the feeling of your hand on her chest. she deserves a good rest after such an agonising day of work, and especially after that.

[degendog]

ur forcemasc posts r so fucking good that they have caused me 2 form a parasocial relationship with u /j

seriously tho this is like my go-to forcemasc blog when im dysphoric cuz its just like. immediate cure. like as a super fem trans guy who has only just recently come out of the closet and struggles to embrace masculinity (i swear im Literally the pastel flower crown wearing baby trans boy u wrote abt in that one forcemasc post. not by choice i just need to be forcemasced) i cannot stop thinking abt u absolutely obliterating my holes and forcemascing me and just making me in2 ur idea of a perfect man... i want u 2 tear me down completely just break me entirely and then rebuild me in2 the exact type of man u want me to be. i'd do anything for it really

anon i have been thinking about this ask all day. i’m glad my hornyposting is a dysphoria salve for you

i’m proud of you for coming out and starting to truly live your life, anon. that takes serious balls. i think you need to start going further with it now. what kind of man do you want to be? how do you want to look, truly? do you want to be a muscley gym bro in a muscle tee? a greasy punk you saw smoking a cig outside the gas station? some nerdy guy that works in IT?

don’t worry, baby boy, i’ll help you get there. i’ll get you a haircut, a men’s one, a clipper cut with a squared-off back. or maybe i’ll shave it all off, start from scratch. i’ll slowly start replacing your clothes with ones you’ve always wanted to wear but were too scared to—women’s skinny jeans replaced with men’s straight-cut, “soft boy” button downs replaced with men’s shirts, panties replaced with boxer briefs (easiest to pack with), even your socks get replaced. you can keep that giant dysphoria hoodie you practically live in, but i’ll glare at you whenever you wear it until you change into a real outfit. and i’ll let you keep those flower crowns, but none of them match your new clothes, so why would you keep wearing them? eventually they’ll be forgotten about in a drawer, or given to a friend’s little sister. i’ll force your legs apart if i catch you sitting with them crossed, until it’s second nature to manspread. and every morning i’ll grab the front of your pants to make sure you’re packing, to make sure you remember your dick belongs to me.

i’ll get you on t, do the first few shots for you until i decide you’re ready to do it yourself, and then i’ll watch you with hungry eyes as you inject yourself with what you should’ve had this whole time. i know it’s scary at first, but being a man is about doing shit that scares you. it builds character. so shut up and take the needle.

and sure, i’ll fuck you with my strap until you can’t think, until your thighs are shaking and your holes are tired and sloppy and you’re completely spent, and the only sounds you can make are moans. i’ll jerk you off while i fuck you—don’t you love how sensitive your new dick is? but i’ll also teach you how to top, how to take what you want. i’ll press myself against your back and coach you through fucking somebody else with the very same dick i fucked you with.

when i’m done with you, you’ll be surprised you ever were a baby-trans soft boy. because all you have ever been is a man.

[kooberryfields4ever]

Hey I hope ur doing great! Can I have a jungkook fluff or anything where they have done the deed for the last time before he enlists for military n they have some sweet yet an emotional convo n him suggesting he will marry her after he comes back n asks her to wait etc. Basically them getting teary eyed n also joking abt stuff like the adorable munchkins they are! N also its cold out there I hope u take care of urself hun n keep urself warm <3

AHHhhsfhhdsghs i went so ham on this ask bc i think i speak for all JUNGKOOKNATORS when i say my heart HURTSSSSSSSSS😭😭😭😭😭💔💔💔💔 i've had a countdown set for his return home so ...... 537 days left ... :(( GOD i can just imagine this scenario so well like he's so emotionally aware and intelligent and so so romantic....... like defos the type for a random proposal bc he is just so in love with u in the moment nothing else matters...... TYSM FOR REQUESTING !!! i hope u enjoy <33

pairing: jungkook x reader

wc: 685

content warnings: ouchie heart pain, enlistment, jungkook AND yn cry, it's sad, fluff <3

“You’re sweaty…” you murmur into Jungkook’s chest, unwilling to let go despite how gross it feels. Jungkook pulls you closer, nuzzling his face into your hair with a chuckle. There’s a moment of silence as you trace a finger along his pec, breathing quietly into his chest while he presses gentle kisses into your hair.

“I don’t want you to leave,” it comes out quietly, and you feel Jungkook exhale deeply before acknowledging you with an equally quiet “I know.” You sigh, lifting your head up to meet his eyes as he readjusts his arm under his head to look down at you. His gaze is soft, the subtle lines of heartache taint his wrinkles and it’s impossible to look away.

“If I could stay, I would. You know that, baby,” he continues, eyes never leaving yours. You listen intently. He brings his free hand up to stroke your head gently, coaxing you to lay back on his chest while he speaks. “You’ll be good, though, I know you will.” He leans his head back; you feel him shift beneath you as his fingers stroke up and down your back. You remain silent, chewing your lip as your fingers lay still against his chest. “Baby?” He questions, hand gripping your waist.

You hadn’t even realised you were crying until a hitched breath leaves you and you bury yourself further into him. Jungkook holds you tighter, sitting up and pulling you with him until you’re halfway in his lap. Your head falls into his shoulder, sniffling. He kisses your head again.

“Baby, come on, talk to me…”

“You’re l-leaving me, f-for so long,” you choke out, sobbing into his shoulder and all Jungkook can do is hold you closer, stroke your hair and kiss your skin. Guilt clouds his thoughts, all he wants to do is stay with you and protect you, knowing that his leaving is causing you so much pain makes his heart hurt. You cry in his arms for so long, saying nothing, just holding him while he touches you sweetly.

When you finally lift your head up to look into his eyes, you see his are red with tears too. In your sadness, you had neglected his feelings and he had let you. You cup his face, leaning your forehead against his tenderly as your thumb wipes at the tears dribbling down his cheeks. There are no words that could tend to the Jungkook sized hole in your heart, nor the you sized hole in his. You connect your lips, and the worry seems to drift away when Jungkook kisses you back sweetly. There’s no tongue, just the movement of your lips and the salty combination of both your tears; it doesn’t bother you, though, you want Jungkook wholly, in every way you can, and if kissing away his tears is how you’ll get there then so be it.

“Marry me,” Jungkook groans softly against your lips, breaking the silence as he tries to pull you impossibly closer. It should catch you off guard, but instead you kiss him deeper, nodding gently.

“I’m serious, y/n, marry me,” he pleads, pulling back finally with bated breaths. “Wait for me, be patient and wait and I’ll come back with a ring and marry you, I swear it.”

“Jungkook,” your eyes soften, tears threatening to spill once again as you heed his plea, “I’d wait forever.”

The smile on his face sends you reeling, all toothy and sweet and delicate and all for you. He takes your hand, interlacing your fingers as his thumb strokes softly over your knuckles, diving back into your lips with all the fervour of a man starved.

“I love you so much, you know that?” He assures you, gripping your hand tighter in an unspoken promise, “I’ll be back so soon, my precious girl… And you’ll be right here, yeah? Waiting for me, being patient?”

“Always, I’ll always be here, never gonna leave…”

His free hand slides up your face, touching you so delicately. His thumb traces your cheek gently. Eighteen months to go.

a/n 🗒️ . . . this was so fun to write !!!! i defos want to work on more asks in the future cos making ur ideas come to life (hopefully) makes me feel so good ...... i hope u guys enjoyed this !!!! don't hesitate to send more requests :3 i love writing fluff as well !!!!!!

[whumpshaped]

NAH CAUSE YOUR RECENT ‘caretaker becomes whumper’ ask abt the drugs has me inspired

what if a former mind controlled whumpee comes back and “”caretaker”” can’t help themselves. they tell themself that it’s for whumpee’s own good—ordering them to shower or take their medication when they don’t want to. but it so so tempting to see how far they could push it. they begin fantasizing about whumpee being a pet to them and how they had the power to make it happen.

tw bad caretaker, conditioning, conditioned whumpee, manipulation

Anyone would’ve had the same thoughts, right? Ever since Whumpee had come back, ever since Caretaker had realised just how fragile they had become… it was impossible not to think about it.

It’d be so easy to push them. Force them back into old habits.

The temptation was unbearable whenever Whumpee was being difficult. Caretaker couldn’t help it; they used the commanding tone, they used the trigger words, they used all of it. So long as it got the job done, was it really that bad? They’d stop when Whumpee’s injuries were all the way healed, when they needed to focus on the mental part.

Except when the time came, they couldn’t give it up. Whumpee was so sweet when they were docile, following orders like the most perfect dog. ‘Take a shower’, ‘take your meds’, ‘change your clothes’, ‘stay in your room’, ‘hold still’… How much further was ‘get on your knees’?

The thought wouldn’t leave them alone. The occasional moral quandary they’d have about these things had always been almost immediately assuaged by the results of their little experiments, whenever Whumpee gave them that naive, trusting look, those big doe eyes that promised such all-encompassing obedience. They had no doubt it’d be even better if they were on their knees, looking up at them like an adoring pet.

Oh, they wanted it. They wanted what Whumper had had. They understood now, and really, they should’ve been thanking the guy for laying the foundations.

“Hey, Whumpee?” Caretaker called one day, and their delightful little pet immediately dropped whatever they were messing with to turn towards them. “Come here for a second.”

Whumpee walked over, dropping to their knees as soon as Caretaker pointed to the floor. They looked so embarrassed, the poor thing. “Oh, s-sorry, that’s… That’s awkward,” they stammered, face flushed with shame as they tried to push themself to their feet again.

“No, it’s okay. Stay like that.”

Whumpee glanced up at them, and for a moment, Caretaker wondered whether they’d gone too far. But then Whumpee simply settled back down, looking almost relieved that Caretaker didn’t make a big deal out of it.

[h4venpha]

↳ 𝐆𝐋𝐎𝐖 — vash the stampede

fluff, angst, insecure vash

sorry i just couldnt stop thinking abt vash who cries when hes soft

vash is already bundled up in the comforter when you enter the quiet bedroom. his breathing is practically inaudible until you come up to the bedside and he looks so much smaller curled up under the covers. quietly, you crawl into the bed, the mattress dipping slightly under your body. he barely stirs.

even as you tuck yourself into the blankets, he doesn’t turn around or acknowledge you. his blonde hair is disheveled across the plush soft pillows and the blanket is rumpled around his frame, anyone else would assume he’s already fast asleep, but you know better.

you shuffle closer, his back is turned towards you, but he’s wide awake, clutching the covers as he stares at the wall with hard eyes and pursed lips. he wants to desperately turn over and pull you close, but something deep inside him is holding him back. whether it be guilt or humiliation, he felt undeserving of any ounce of love.

it’s more of a time-to-time thing. where he would suddenly come to the realization of “maybe i’m actually not worthy of this at all, what have i done to deserve this?” it often led to nights of his self isolation and self hatred for the things he’s done and the things he could if he didn’t keep himself in check.

and you know exactly when vash gets into that kind of mindset: when he talks a little less, he simply doesn’t interact with you as often, or his touches don’t linger as long as they usually do. sometimes these phases last mere hours and some others could take days before he snaps out of it. he just needs a little bit of reassurance is all.

gently, you wrap an arm around his waist and press yourself against his warm back. and there’s no doubt, he’s tense under your touch, but it doesn’t sting you at all.

he’s awake; you can easily tell by the way he breathes. you press a soft kiss to his shoulder and listen to how his breath hitches lightly at the contact. you knew, if you take it too quickly, he would only run away further, harder for you to bring back down to you, so you kiss him slowly. kissing his the back of his neck and shoulder.

and vash knows, he knows what you’re doing, he knows you’re trying to help him out of his mind; gently scooping him out of his own head into your arms. and it only worsens his state: that you were willing to take the time to care for him knowing he has issues with love sometimes. his heart aches so much, he feels tender all over because of your small actions.

you are kissing along his back when you begin to hear him sniffle. its small and quiet, but in the silent room, its easily heard by you. and immediately you’re calling out.

“vash?” you whisper softly with concern laced into your voice. “vash,” he begins to tremble, suddenly humiliated because he knows you know he’s crying. and he feels stupid and a little bit silly.

you turn him around with a hand on his shoulder and he lets you, regardless of his feelings. a small blue-ish white light emits as he begins to turn and when you finally look at him, his face is lined with his bioluminescent plant marks. delicate glowing line patterns on his forehead, down the bridge of his nose, and chin, leading down over his throat into his shirt. your heart softened, you grew fond of his marks because of moments like these.

“come here…” you whisper softly and take his face in your gentle hands, his tears spilling from his eyes as you hold him close. you gently wipe them away with your thumbs as you look down at his lips. “i know, i know vash, it’s okay,” you brush his blonde hair from his face, and he has to advert his eyes from yours. his tears continue to spill, the vulnerability almost too much for him.

vash feels so— so raw. so raw and open to be crying in front of you. like he ripped a hole in his chest and showed you all parts of him. and it burns and aches so badly, but he can’t help how he craves your touch, how he craves your love even if he doesn’t want it.

you press your forehead to his and close your eyes, the light from his marks turning into a soft glow behind your eyelids. his breathing is rough and shaky as he cries softly. you know words were hard to get to him when he was like this, so all you do is gently stroke his cheek and breathe. and naturally vash follows.

shaky hands reaching up to grasp your wrists as his breathing begins to fall into pace with yours. his heart aches a little less and he feels himself start to come back down. he begins to relax once more, sighing, suddenly very aware of how exhausted he feels from crying. behind his eyelids, the blue-ish glow fades back to darkness and when he peels his damp eyes open, the first thing he sees is your face. your face filled with concern and so, so much love and care it almost brings him back to tears.

“…better?” you ask quietly as you notice his breathing even out, you wipe his damp eyes one last time. vash doesn’t say anything, he just hums softly with a small nod, the noise rough and hoarse sounding as it emitted from the back of his throat, it was obvious that he had been crying.

his relaxed hands release your wrists and they slowly make their way down around your waist. you let him, you let him do whatever he needs to do to feel comfortable again. his arms wrap around your waist as he presses himself into your body with his face against your neck, hair ticking your neck

and he’s so warm, his breath against your skin and his chest against your stomach. you feel yourself getting sleepy as you wrap your arms around him, and this time, he’s not tense.

“i love you,” you whisper against his forehead, your hand reaching up to his crown of hair, gently petting him. even at your words filled with such meaning and intimacy, he doesn’t waver anymore. instead, he squeezes you closer and pulls you in more.

vash hoped you would understand. he hoped you would understand how thankful he was, how much he loved you even without saying it. pressing you closer to his chest, he hoped you understand that this was hard for him, it was overwhelming and scary sometimes; vash hoped you understood how much he loved you.

[delusinaldreamer19]

After receiving some interaction with this post I made about my feelings on the Undertaker, I wanted to clarify some of the things I said. And give, you know, actual points + evidence for why I don’t like him.

I’ll start by rephrasing that very point. It’s not that I don’t like him as a character, it’s that I think he’s evil. Maybe one of the most evil characters in the series.

@abybweisse left a comment on my post saying how Yana had specified that UT wasn’t the main villain of the story. I agree. But whether or not he’s the main villain of the story doesn’t take away from how evil his actions are.

I’m just going to go ahead and get the main point across, or my main reason for “hating him” ig.

He needed r!Ciel’s body in order to revive him. In order to retrieve his corpse from the sight of the sacrifice, he needed to have known where it was. In order to retrieve r!Ciel’s body before the place fully burned down after being set ablaze by Ciel & Seb, he would have needed to be there when it was happening.

Remember this panel?

There are numourus theory’s abt it, but I personally believe it’s UT.

Case and point, he must have known that the twins where being held captive by the cult. Whether or not he knew about all the ways they were being abused is kind of irrelevant—I feel that seeing them in the cage would be enough to know they were being harmed.

This biggest thing about him that I just can’t get past is why didn’t he intervene?

Your telling me that the same person who said “I can’t bare to lose another Phantomhive” just sat by and watched as one of these Phantomhives he supposedly cares so much about was murdered right before his eyes? It’s just doesn’t sit right with me.

I’m halfway to believing that he specifically waited for r!ciel (and prob o!ciel) to die so that he could do the whole reanimated corpse thing. But I’m not convinced that will be the main payoff of his actions within the series.

Speaking of his actions…yeah I’m not done.

What is the point of him essentially ruining o!Ciel’s life? Seriously. Framing him for the sapphire music hall incidents, kicking him out of his own home, stripping him of everything he has aside from Seb and his servants. Like- why? What does that do to further his goals (whatever they may be)?

I feel like he could have kept the whole reviving r!ciel thing more…idk personal? Privet? Like revealing to only o!ciel that he’d done that.

And why revive Doll if not to specifically torment o!ciel with a ghost of his past? Or at least to have some sort of negative effect on him?

There are so many questions about the UT, and while we don’t have the answers for them yet, the questions themselves paint him in a very bad light.

Yes, he had some sort of relationship to Claudia. Yes, he cried over the picture of Vincent. He may care about the Phantomhives in some manner, but I can’t help but feel that he doesn’t care about o!ciel. He may have had a few lines that suggest otherwise, but is actions have spoken very loudly through this series.

If I had to put it into a theory, I’d say I think his main reason for doing all of this is that he just want to pit a real human (o!ciel) against one of his reanimated creations (r!ciel) to see which will come out on top. His whole thing has always been laughter and entertainment.

But that’s just the impression I’ve gotten from thinking about the Undertaker and trying to piece his actions together. Do I think this is the real motivation that Yana has in store for him? No. But I just can’t seem to get past it.

[grandlinedreams]

I don’t know if you’ve done something like this before..but could maybe write about a time where reader took care of zoro and then one where he took care of you??

Thank you!!!

Absolutely I can do that for you!! Idk abt anyone else but the softness of taking care of someone when they're sick/hurt,,oof

[Heads up!: fluff, tiny bit of angst, Zoro being Zoro, mention of injuries, mention of being sick]

"Hold still."

Zoro tries to do as you ask, though the tickle of thread pulled through his skin makes him twitch, and he grunts when you swat at his upper arm. "What was that for?"

"I said hold still!"

"I'm trying, damn it!" Zoro huffs, brow furrowed as he does his best not to move any further. "Don't understand why you're the one doin' this anyways."

"Because Chopper is busy taking care of Luffy and Sanji," you explain, holding the black thread taut and snipping it. "And you were already injured, but you popped your stitches." You pause. "Would you rather I let you bleed to death?"

"Guess not."

You pause, raising an eyebrow. "You guess? That's not much of an answer, Zoro." Your expression softens. "Try not to get torn up too many times, okay? I worry about you."

"Don't have to," Zoro grumbles, then studies your handiwork of neat stitches rather the bleeding, ragged mess it'd been when he popped them. "Thanks, I guess."

"No problem." He listens to the click of the first aid kit, the shadow that falls over him as you stand. "Guess I owe you one."

"Not at all." You know he'll probably want to take a nap, and you prepare to take your leave before you glance at him. "We're crewmates, Zoro. We look out for each other."

"Yeah, fair point."

You watch as he leans back, mindful of the fold of his arms behind him as he closes his eyes. You wish you could do as he does, though you understand why he has the knack for sleeping anywhere.

Still, you smile. "Sleep well, Zoro."

ㅡ

You're burning up.

It'd been bad luck to get caught in a bout of nasty weather, the sudden switch from bright and sunny to cold and rainy coming with very little warning, even with Nami's skills.

You'd been busy making sure that the Sunny wasn't battered too badly by the swell of waves and fixing things that'd been shifted with the violent rocking to change clothes ㅡ and now you're paying for it.

Though Chopper had diagnosed it as nothing to be too worried about, Zoro still doesn't like the flush to your cheeks and heat that radiates from your forehead, your breathing strained and uneven.

So he takes it upon himself to keep an eye on you. If anyone asks, it's because his normal spots to nap have lost their appeal at the moment ㅡ but if the look Robin gives him is any indication, she at least knows there's more to it.

Zoro is far from a perfect caretaker, but he tries. He soaks a rag in cold water, squeezes it, then settles it on your forehead, hoping to bring your fever down. When it dries out, he repeats the process.

You drift in and out of fevered sleep, and he listens to the little mumbles ㅡ often of your crewmates, including him. He wonders what you're dreaming about that includes him ㅡ and if it's good.

He highly doubts that it's much in part to him, but he's still pleased when you finally wake enough to want food ㅡ and he goes to get it for you before you can protest.

"Don't need you gettin' everyone else sick," he tells you when he returns with a bowl of soup. (He hadn't even threatened to chuck it at Sanji, who'd been surprised at the lack of verbal barb from the swordsman.)

"What about you?"

He scoffs. "I don't get sick."

The look you give him says you're far from believing that, but you turn your attention to the soup instead. Managing to get at least half of it down, you let Zoro finish the rest of it. (Much as he hates that stupid cook, he does make good food.)

"Thank-you for looking after me." Zoro watches as you sink back down into the heavy mess of blankets, likes to think that there's a little more healthy color to your face.

"Yeah, yeah." He looks away. "It's like you said. We're crewmates, we gotta look out for each other." You stare at him, and he huffs. "Right?"

Your expression softens. "Right."

(You get better after another day or two. And when Zoro does actually catch what you had, you're the one who offers to take care of him.)

[judeswhore]

I know that it’s still a long time to Christmas, but I've had this idea...

imagine Jude inviting you to spend Christmas with him and his family. and although, you agree, you're still a bit shy and anxious about it. and when you're there and come through the door he kisses you and you don’t know what's going on. but when he pulls away he has this mischevious smile and you see the mistletoe hanging over you. and then when you go further, you see it hanging in other rooms as well. and you're sure that this is his job, because he loves to see how after all this time he still makes you shy and blush, and he knows that you have butterflies in your tummy. but the most romantic thing that he's done is hanging it in his room so when you go there, he kisses you and when he pulls away he nuzzles his nose against yours and says that he wished he could kiss someone special here when he grows up and that he's grateful that it’s you :((((

he’s hung it in every doorway in the house even tho his mam chastised him for it bc she knows he’s only doing it bc it’ll get u all shy and flustered and she knows ur already nervous abt being here. but jude really doesn’t care bc he knows you’ll love his kisses even if u are embarrassed and he knows you’ll get over it. but the second u step through the door he’s kissing u and grinning up at the mistletoe and he watches u eye the other pieces hanging in other doorways, turning a little glare on him bc “don’t u think you’ve gone a little overboard?” and he’s shaking his head all “nope. i can kiss u whenever i want now” and that has u rolling ur eyes bc even with his family around he can’t keep his hands to himself for more than five minutes. and then he’s got u in his bedroom and it’s the one he’s grown up in and u feel so grateful that u get to be here with him and u get to see such a personal side of his life and he’s just pulling u in for more kisses telling u “it was little jude’s fantasy to kiss a pretty girl in here. he’d be punching the air rn if he saw how lucky we got” and that has u feeling all kinds of ways, hiding ur smile away in his shirt bc he just always manages to get u so giddy and shy

[hinaaspanda]

shall we dance? | l.jy

pairing: hiphop dancer! lee juyeon x ballerina! fem reader

warnings: 18+ content, swearing, mentions of alcohol and falling asleep after getting too drunk lmao 

genre: rivals(ish) to lovers, fluff, angst if you squint, smut: fingering, breast worship (idk what it’s actually called, he just kinda spends his time on that area hnagdja), cowgirl, praise

wc: 9,381

Lee Juyeon was never someone you considered as a teammate. Sure, you were in the same dance team, but your minds and personalities were worlds apart from each other. He was stubborn and childish, while you strived for perfection; it was a match made in hell. So imagine your reaction when your dance instructor appoints the two of you to work together at the school’s annual dance fesitval! Will the two of you survive?

a/n; hi again! I’m back with my first ever fic for the boyz! i had to write abt my bae juyeon omg fhkdufhusgf. it’s just in time for juyeon month too! anyways, enjoy!

God was testing you, that was for certain.

“Do either of you have any questions?” Your dance instructor gazed at you with doe eyes, genuine curiosity plaguing her features. You, meanwhile, were fighting every urge to scoff right in her face. As a matter of fact, you did have just one question. 

What the hell was going on?

“We’ll be fine, Mrs. Kim. We won’t let you down!!” A second voice peaked through your ears. A voice that irked you beyond belief. That voice in question? None other than the personified headache on two legs—Lee Juyeon. The man you’d be trapped with for the next week, choreographing a dance in a genre you knew nothing about. Hesitance lining your frame, you nod to your instructor before she concludes the meeting and escapes the dance practice room. On the outside, you appeared calm and collected, hardly disheveled by the current news. Inside, however? You were screaming and panicking. 

To fully relish in the horror of the situation, you have to understand how much of a nuisance Lee Juyeon really was. The two of you could not have been further from each other. You see, Juyeon was not one to care for perfection—to say he was tardy would be an understatement. The hip hop major would show up to team practices on his own terms, which usually meant about 20 minutes past the actual start time, complete with an iced coffee from the convenience store down the street. He would never fail to spend the rest of your joint practice time fooling around with his little goons, cracking jokes that deserved an eye roll—if not more. You, on the other hand, wanted nothing more than perfection. You worked your ass off for a seamless, perfect performance every time, and Juyeon would do nothing but taint that. 

You and Lee Juyeon. A ballerina and a hip hop dancer. There was no doubt you two were worlds apart. So, how the hell were you two supposed to work together?

A groan spilt from your lips as you pivoted, turning away from your so-called dance partner. This was all just some sick, torturous dream. None of this was real. Soon, you’d wake up in your comfy bed; in a reality that didn’t involve this duet of nightmares. 

“y/n! Wait up!” His voice peaked in your ears again—nails to a chalkboard. “Where are you going?”

“Where do you think? I’m going home!” You spat, pivoting back to face him. “Do you really believe we’re gonna be able to work together? We’re complete opposites, Juyeon. Knowing us, there’s no way we’d be able to co-operate. And don’t even get me started on that insane deadline! How are we supposed to get anything done in 5 days?” 

Juyeon inches closer to your figure, his hand clinging onto the nape of his neck. “Look, I’m not too stoked for this, either, but it wouldn’t hurt to try and work together.”

You choke, expecting anything but that response. Since when was Juyeon so willing to cooperate? “Are you serious?”

Juyeon nipped at his lips, pausing. His eyes bore through you—there wasn’t a joke in sight. “Almost everyone in our team gets along—except us. It’ll improve our overall teamwork.”

You gulp. Juyeon’s caught you tongue tied. Were you even listening to the same man you knew 5 minutes ago? You look up at the dancer, finally granting him the light of day. His eyes, however, were already on you, practically piercing through your skin. 

“I promise, y/n, I won’t let you down.”

His words; they were weird. He’s said that exact phrase already—to your dance instructor after she bore the two of you the bad news. Nevertheless, this time felt different. They felt more genuine. Could you really trust him?

You gulp once more. “Fine.”

As you sat on the bus ride home that night, you gaze at your phone. Your digital calendar was littered with timestamps and reminders; the chaotic schedule you and Lee Juyeon had planned for this god forsaken performance. It was funny, the conception of this small schedule was already enough to spark an argument between the two of you, with him deeming it to be completely useless. May it be the first argument of many.  

Your chest, meanwhile, began to tighten at the thought of him. Today alone, it was as if he’d changed over night, flipping on his head like an airplane in turbulence. In the three years you’ve known him, you’ve never seen him so considerate, so thoughtful. It made you queasy, sick to the stomach. 

Would you even be able to survive?

Juyeon’s car was stuck in the parking lot. 

It wasn’t because of poor weather conditions or a case of bad traffic, however. On the outside, everything was fine. Completely normal. And yet, Lee Juyeon couldn’t be bothered to set his car in reverse and drive out of his cramped parking spot. The reason?

Lee Juyeon was stuck on the thought of you. 

He wasn’t really sure why, if he was being completely honest. In his mind, you were worlds apart—aside from dance, there was absolutely nothing tethering you two together. The y/n he was familiar with was the definition of uptight and cranky, rarely uttering a word to the people she was supposed to regard as teammates, apart from maybe one person. It was as if the concept of ‘fun’ or ‘relaxation’ were unavailable in your robot itinerary. Your only hobbies consisted of endless practice—hell, you practically lived in the studio—and scowling at Juyeon every time he called you by his nickname. 

It was weird. Despite all of that—your reputation and bitter attitude—Juyeon found a burning sensation creeping in his chest every time he thought about you. Every time he walked by the studio well after practice was finished for the day, only to see the cheap lights still flickered on, with your figure still on the dance floor; it was as if motivation burned through his chest. When it came to you, Lee Juyeon didn’t feel the urge to slack off, to skip practice for the day. 

He didn’t want to let you down. 

Juyeon cleared his throat, adjusting himself in the driver's seat. Motivation. Yeah, that’s it. That’s all it was. It explained the sudden urge to even go through with this performance in the first place. It explained the burning sensations in his chest. Pushing his car shift forward, Juyeon backs his car out of the parking spot he’d been loitering at for what felt like an eternity. The lights of his dashboard blinded him, sending his sorry ass back to reality. A reality where he wasn’t constantly thinking of you. The stone cold princess from another world. 

First practice and Juyeon was already driving you insane. 

The ivory stained fabric crashed onto the ground, but your fingers were too limp to give a damn. 

“You want my number?” You quizzed over your shoulder, too lazy to properly face the boy lacing up his shoes. “What for?” 

“I dunno, so we can, like, plan stuff or something?” Juyeon suggested, too busy admiring his own features to spare you a glance. You watched as he lifted a hand to gently stroke his jaw, a self asserting smirk lining his lips before finally giving you the light of day. “Shouldn’t we be, like, talking more for this thing?” 

Lacing up your hair away from your face, you shot eagle eyes at your reflection. You wanted to ignore Juyeon’s words, how they were beginning to convince you. And yet, for some reason, you were struggling to do just that. Without hesitation, you curl your body into your first stretching warm up of the day. Never in your life did you think Lee Juyeon wasn’t right. He never was.

“I didn’t know you were so keen on communication” You huff, rolling your eyes. You refuse to make eye contact with Juyeon, though it was something you’ve been struggling with lately. 

“Well, I happen to think communication’s key for good teamwork!” the dancer boasted, completing his arm stretches as he sauntered towards you. “What if things change at the last minute, and you have no other way of knowing? Wouldn’t that just make you more stressed?”

Pausing your stretch routine, you nip at the skin of your lips. Only now did you notice a particular figure standing practically flush against you. Your shoulder mere millimeters before his chest. His head dipped close to your cheek, with barely a sliver of space in between your two frames. You barely noticed all of that. And yet, you did almost immediately notice the deep resin of Lee Juyeon’s voice cradling your ear. 

“We wouldn’t want our princess getting stressed, now would we?”

Your heart was racing—unwantedly so. What was with that switch up? And don’t even get started on that very new, very weird nickname. You felt your breath shorten, quickening with each second you spent trapped in Juyeon trance, his territory. You were frozen, only managing to move by small increments as you slowly turned to face him. Gazing at your dance partner, you couldn’t help but notice how fast the skin of your cheeks flared up. How quickly your mind drew to a blank. Where on earth did this new Juyeon even come from? 

And why were you hesitating to run away?

"W-what are you—" you stutter out, your voice a hush.

Suddenly, a wide and devious grin stretches on Juyeon’s face, his eyes turning into full crescent moons. He huffed out a chuckle before quickly bending down to grab a pen from his bag. You were still so frozen, you didn’t even have the willpower to disobey what he said next. 

“Give me your hand,” He requests innocently, a complete 180° from how he was just 5 minutes ago; pure evil. Still not fully out of your trance, you shove your limp hand towards his chest, practically spacing out as he cups your palm in his giant hand. Juyeon scribbles the pen onto your skin, the friction tingling against you—but you didn’t have the resolve to admit you were ticklish. Finally, he lets go of your hand, the lack of warmth lingering in your brain a little longer than you thought it would. Sealing the stationary back up, Juyeon shoots one final grin your way before tossing the pen back in his bag. You glance down at the back of your palm; 10 digits and a poorly drawn heart right beside it. You scowl, though it was really only to hide your rapid heartbeat. 

“I’m gonna kill Professor Choi, just watch,” Kim Sunwoo grits through his teeth, holding his head in his hands as he continues to drown in the sea of physics homework. You watched as he slowly regressed further into the floor, the layers of worksheets giving him actual, attainable pain. Your own stack of unfinished assignments was nothing to scoff at, either. With your brain too occupied with the dance festival performance, you had just a sliver of time to actually sit down and work on your assignments. 

You watch as Sunwoo trudges upwards, sludging to your kitchen and opening your fridge as if it were his own. He pulls out an emerald can, cracking it open on just one hand. “I’d hate to be in your shoes, though. How do you even balance all this with dancing?”

“Please, don’t even get me started” You leaned back, your arms holding you up as you stretched from your criss-cross position. “That dance festival is more of a pain in the ass than you could ever imagine” 

“Oh yeah, right. How’s that going, anyways?” 

Your best friend's words had the audacity to summon your brain, to reel your thoughts back to the first practice you’ve ever had with Lee Juyeon. The way his figure was mere millimeters away from yours, his breath grazing your cheek. The way his hand practically swallowed yours whole as he wrote his number on your palm—against your better judgment of staying out of touch. The cheeky little smile he shot at you before wisping away, beginning his stretches. It all stained your brain, plagued you with a madness you couldn’t explain. An unfamiliar swirl danced at the pit of your stomach, as graceful as you would during a dance practice accompanied with little to no sleep the night before. Lee Juyeon was making you sick

You gulp, The crescents of Juyeon’s eye smile in particular staying in your mind for longer than you anticipated. Suddenly, the rubbery texture of an eraser crashing into your nose jolts you awake. “Oi, y/n!”

Clearing your throat, you sit up straight. You needed to get those thoughts out of your head. Fast. “Right, yeah-”

“You’re falling for that Juyeon guy already, I see,” Sunwoo smirks, his eyebrows wiggling infuriatingly. Your eyes spill from their sockets, jaw dropping to the floor. 

“What? No! Are you crazy?” You sputter, fidgeting and spazzing like a tree struck by lightning. You chuck your pencil case straight towards his chest; a reflex for his stupidity. Your brows drill to the center of your forehead as you whip your head towards your beloved best friend’s direction. “How do you even know he’s my partner?”

“My lab partner, Jaehyun, rooms with him,” Sunwoo takes a swig of his coke before diving back into his worksheet—or more accurately; his phone. “I guess Juyeon talks about you a lot. I heard he already made his move on the first practice,” Sunwoo said through giggles.

Your chest tightened, that same image of the dancer swimming into your brain. Did he actually talk about you? And why did that even matter?? You steal Sunwoo’s drink, dipping your head back to take in the whole beverage in one fatal swoop. Crashing the can down onto the table, you clear your throat again. “He didn’t make his move okay? He just asked for my number.”

“Well, did you give it to him?” Sunwoo leaned in, curious.

You paused, your breath stuck in your windpipe. You gulped again. “No, are you kidding?”

Almost immediately, you shoot up from your spot on the floor. Stretching your back, you zoom to the kitchen, embarrassment cringing in your chest. You weren’t really sure why you lied. Maybe you were just in denial. Or maybe you just wanted to forget it all. You rummaged through your pantry, diving head first into the snacks you barely even remember purchasing. At least now they served some purpose. You pull out some cheese puffs, obliterating them within seconds. One thing you were completely sure of, is that Sunwoo was anything but right. 

You were not falling for Lee Juyeon. 

Back at the table, moments before Sunwoo contemplates actually trying to get some work done, a ping pops from your phone. Curiosity overtook him, and seeing as though you were busy digging a hole through your pantry, Sunwoo took it upon himself to open your phone. A silver bar falls from the top of your phone screen, the name sending Kim Sunwoo to the heavenly gates of pride. 

Lee Juyeon [7:58 pm]: what time u showing up for practice tmr?

Your best friend was a grinning idiot for the rest of the day. 

Juyeon wasn’t at all surprised when he heard music playing from the practice room already. He knew exactly who was in there, practicing to perfection. 

He stopped himself just before the practice room doors, his eyes trailing your reflection in the mirror. You were so focused, you couldn’t bother to notice his figure standing right at the door. He leaned against the wall, watching as you moved to the delicate music, your footsteps so nimble they hardly touched the floor. His eyes followed you at every twirl and wide-legged jump you performed, his chest tightening at the sight of you. 

Lee Juyeon was in awe. 

Toying with the velcro strap of his gym bag, Juyeon’s eyes were physically incapable of leaving you. He wanted nothing more than to watch you dance, to thrive on the dance floor. The burning sensation in his chest soon sunk down, fluttering just above his stomach. Without realizing, his heart raced every time you twirled to the music. Juyeon gulped. 

Was he falling for you? 

Slowly, Juyeon took a step into the practice room, chucking his bag into the closest corner he could find. 

He wasn’t so sure anymore.

Currently, you have about eight days left before the performance. 

And yet, you were distracted as ever. 

The music rummaged through your brain like a gofer to dirt—drilling holes into the parts of your brain that stored its logic and critical thinking.  Sweat beaded from the crown of your head—it was natural, considering you’ve lost count of the times you’ve practiced your routine. You twirled into Juyeon’s embrace, your hand in his as he spun you below his arm. The two of your bodies; a well oiled, factory grade machine as you danced under the starry night of the studio room. Effortlessly, each limb guides one move into another, as your two figures near the end of your performance. 

You two halt your movements, standing still in the center of the wooden tiled floor. This practice was the utmost crucial; it was the first time you and Juyeon would practice the high point of this whole performance, the main event—the lift.

The act in which one dancer, usually the stronger, grabs their partner by the waist and lifts them above the air. It’s an incredible feat that only the most impressive dancers can truly surpass. Nervousness overtook you, your skin freezing to ice. You’ve never dared to do something so rash, so bold in the entirety of your dancing career. 

Could you even do this?

“Are you ready?” A voice chimes in, shocking you awake. Your eyes shoot to the mirror to see Juyeon ghosting your back, his chest flush against your shoulder blades. You gulp, taking extra notice at his hands; most innocently placed at either side of your waist—bare, due to your haphazard ability to get ready in the morning. His fingers felt rough, callous against yours, a metal ring stationed at his middle finger sending more chills down your skin. “y/n?”

A lump jumps out of your throat. For whatever reason, your vocal chords seemed to be sealed shut, no words sliding from your lips in response. Not thinking much of it, your dance partner chuckles at your silence before pulling his hands away from your skin. Something your chest twinges at the loss of his touch, but you chose to ignore it. Juyeon moves to stand right in front of you resting a hand on top of your head as he sends you a smile.  

“Don’t worry, I got you, okay?” Juyeon boasts, curling his bicep in a flexing position worth all of the eye rolls on the world. “I worked out extra just for this, you know.”

You hated how easy his words made your stubborn eyes peek at his figure. Your breath hitched, only now noticing how muscular Lee Juyeon really was. You already knew he towered your stature, but only at this very moment did you realize just how built his shoulders were. Your eyes glided down to his hands, equally—if not more—muscular than the rest of his body. The exact same pair of hands responsible for holding you by the waist, sending your figure soaring through the air. An image of that exact occurrence replayed in your mind like a broken record. 

With your cheeks flushed beyond belief, you snap your head around, concealing your pathetic figure away from the stupid hip hop major. “Shut up, Juyeon.”

One hesitant nod was all it took before Juyeon’s hand latched onto your waist once again. You gulped. It was a perfect fit. With one last glance at you, Juyeon shoots your body into the air, lifting your frame over his head with his arms. You couldn’t believe it; you were soaring amidst the puff of clouds, defying all of the pitiful limits of human nature. You were flying, it was amazing. 

Until it wasn’t.

In about T-minus 10 seconds, reality shook you to your core. You were, in fact, 6 feet in the air, with nothing but a pair of oddly strong hands tethering you to the ground. You were going to die, undoubtedly so. Your body shivered in fear, your hands reaching for Juyeon’s like it was a life source. “Wait—put me down!”

Within seconds, Juyeon listened, propping you back down to the ground. Your body was flush against his, arms knotted around his neck as one of his forearms clung tightly around your waist—never daring to let go. Your heart was jumping out of your chest at the near-death experience. Juyeon’s eyes never pull away from you, worry and fear swelling in each pupil. It was as if all of the immaturity and childishness you associate him with had disappeared from his being, leaving an actually soft, and caring character in its wake. “Oh my god– are you okay!?”

Due to your life literally flashing before your eyes, only at this exact moment did you notice how close you and Juyeon were. Mere millimeters hung between your faces, his raspy breath grazing your skin. Only now did you notice how tight Juyeon kept you against his body as you hung from his neck. An uncomfortable swirl stared at your stomach again, your chest beating rapidly. The two of you stood still; just like that for what felt like ages. The music that accompanied your practice session slowly fading away. It was just you and him. Nothing else in the world surrounded your two frames. 

A part of you, however, didn’t completely mind it. 

You clear your throat, your two figures jumping apart as you did so. What the hell were you thinking? You hated Lee Juyeon. Everything about him; from his work ethic to his stupid eye smile. Your eyes drill to your feet, realizing that you have yet to answer Juyeon’s question. 

“I’m okay.”

You expected the boy to start teasing you. Maybe he’d comment on how ungraceful you were—very unnatural for a ballerina. Or maybe he’d start laughing at you. It was a normal thing to anticipate. But was anything ever normal when it came to Lee Juyeon?

You already knew your answer. 

Cotradictingly, Juyeon’s palm gently patted the crown of your head, lightly ruffling the locks of your hair. He shot you another eye smile—a ray of sunshine you needed to protect yourself from. “That’s good, I’m glad.”

Your eyebrows furrow. “Why do you care so much?”

His eyes never managed to leave your gaze. “Come on, is it so weird that I care about my dance partner?”

You pull your gaze away. “Yes.”

With a soft chuckle, Juyeon flicks your forehead. “Well, too bad. I care about you, dummy.”

You stayed silent. Why was your heart fluttering? 

Checking the weather app was simply useless, not with the rain droplets crashing into the walls and windows of the campus lobby. 

You looked through the glass, defeat pulling your shoulders further into the tiled floor. Bussing home in this weather would be near to impossible with the harsh showers. And what makes it all worse? A quick check on your bus app only lets you know how late your designated bus is; approximately 20 minutes. 

The jingle of keys creep up from behind you, summoning an eye roll almost immediately. You didn’t even need to turn around to know who the owner of the metal even was—it had Lee Juyeon written all over it. You scowl, hugging your body as you continue to face away from him. He probably was only here to flaunt how unfucked he was, a strong contrast to how fucked you were. 

“How are you getting home?” Juyeon speaks up anyways. Typical. 

“Bus.” You murmur, turning to him. “Look, if you’re here to tease me or something, save it. I’m not feeling it.”

“Woah! Okay, for your information, I wasn’t planning on teasing you.” Juyeon throws up his hands in defense, as if you held him at gunpoint. “In fact, I was gonna ask if you wanted a ride.”

Your eyes lit up for a second. A ride. Protection from the outdoors. It was everything you’ve ever wanted. You clear your throat. No. This was Lee Juyeon. It didn’t matter if he was being considerate, or sweet even. This was anything but what you wanted. You needed to get a grip.

“I’m alright, thanks,” Your voice was soft, hesitant.

“You sure?” He quizzed, your silence overwhelming him with his answer. He huffed a sigh, pausing before unzipping his bag and rummaging through the fabric. “Suite yourself, but you should at least take this.”

Dropping his gym bag, Juyeon inches closer to you. For a split second, his arms wrap around your frame, sending a sharp inhale through your chest, your chest which had already felt tight since he first moved closer to you. His warmth lingered in your mind. The sounds of crashing rain began to fade away—though the skies never cleared up. It was as if you were hallucinating, moments away from losing your mind. After a few seconds, he opens up his arms, draping fabric over your shoulders. It was an instant warmth. 

“What’s this?”

“My jacket—you’ll freeze to death if you go out like this!”

You glance down at your outfit; a cropped sweater made from some cheap fabric, and leggings summoning anything but warmth. Your partner was right, you weren’t prepared in the slightest. “Oh… What about you?”

You gulp. Since when did you care?

“I’ll be fine. I’m driving anyway. Plus, I’m still pretty hot from practice.”

You felt a specific heat creep onto your cheeks, until you realized that Juyeon was only talking about sweating. You idiot. You hide behind the fabric, eyes trailing the ground. “Uh, thanks.”

He pulls your—or, more rightfully, his— hood over your head, patting the crown gently. Meanwhile, you couldn’t help but feel this weird swirl at the pit of your stomach. “Take care, y/n!”

Currently, Juyeon’s friends were congregating on his couch. The objective of this meeting? Planning the house party that was set for this weekend, the last thing on the list being who they were going to invite. Though Juyeon had his own, more personal objective; to stop thinking about the most recent practice with you—it’s been plaguing his mind all afternoon. And he was failing. Pathetically. 

“What about y/n? Should we invite her?” Juyeon heard his own voice through his confused ears. His mind—all proper reasoning—was clearly lacking behind; he could tell from the confused stares that were plastered on all of his friend’s faces. Clearly, Juyeon missed the memo on “close friends only” being this party’s apparent theme. Could anyone really blame him, though? In his very weak defense, he was too caught up on the thought of you to listen.

“Park y/n? Your dance partner for that festival thing, right?” Lee Jaehyun, his roommate and best friend, cocks an eyebrow; perplexed beyond belief. “You sure? I heard she's a little weird.”

Juyeon grew the slightest bit bitter at his roommate’s words, though he couldn’t explain it. 

“Oh yeah,” Ju Haknyeon, another one of Juyeon’s friends, chimed in, his back leaning into the plush of the beat up couch. “She’s in my psych. class this term. She’s always got her hand up like her life depended on it, bro. It’s kind of creepy, if you ask me.”

Juyeon could feel his knuckles tensing. Who was he to call you creepy? 

Kim Younghoon, the last of Juyeon’s clique, leans forward, shoving a handful of chips into his mouth like a complete mouth. He didn’t even bother to swallow before chiming in. “I heard she’s a total pain during your guy’s dance practice—Changmin’s told me a few things, anyway. Is she always so bossy around you guys?”

A flame rose in Juyeon’s chest. His friends were making it infuriatingly clear; they didn’t know jack shit about you. With his hands subconsciously rolled into fists, Juyeon rose from the couch, towering over his careless friends. In all honesty, it took Juyeon every fiber of his being to not punch the living daylights out of each and everyone of them. Though, again, he couldn’t pinpoint the reason. 

“Okay, no, you guys got it all wrong,” Juyeon began, startling the three boys below him. “y/n’s none of those things! She’s not weird or creepy, she’s just smarter than you could ever dream of being. She’s confident and strives for the best. And when it comes to dance, no one on that team has the strength and power that she has—she's one of the best dancers I know!”

Juyeon’s voice grew soft. Gentle. “y/n—she’s amazing.”

Juyeon didn’t realize just how out of breath he was until he finished his little performance. His body just acted on its own; a habit he’s seemed to have picked up since he got to know you. His three friends were practically in shock, their jaws grazing the carpet they stood on.  

“Damn dude—I didn’t know,” Jaehyun muttered in a hushed voice, genuinely terrified for his life. “How come you got such a soft spot for her?”

Juyeon nipped at his lips, his chest rising. Though he didn’t know why.

He gulped. Who was he kidding? He’s known the whole time.

“‘Cause I like her.”

“You don’t get a choice young lady!” Sunwoo’s voice peaked a little too powerfully through your phone’s speaker. You winced at the volume, though he couldn’t care less. “You’re going to that party!”

The party in question? The house party, located at the Lee Juyeon and Lee Jaehyun residence. The reason why you were so hesitant in going? The one and only Lee Juyeon giving you a personal invite, of course. 

You didn’t have a clue at what sick game Juyeon was trying to play with you. To your understanding, this last minute performance should have only kept the two of you as close as coworkers from a typical 9-5 would be. You had no intention of keeping in touch with the childish and irritating dancer, absolutely none. So, why should you even consider saying yes to that absurd invitation. And besides, with certain recent events still replaying in your mind unwillingly, you thought it best to avoid seeing the hip hop boy for more than you needed to. You knew all of this, but why was Sunwoo so slow on piecing it together? 

“Why are you so pent up about this?” You groaned. “You care about that party more than I do!”

“For starters, going to any party’s going to increase your chances of making more friends. And, like, you can’t only have one friend in uni, y/n. That’s kinda sad.”

“You’re literally that friend, asshole,” you mutter, seriously considering changing that notion right now. 

“Doesn’t matter, you need to go out more! Live a little! Life isn't just about school and dance, you know?” Sunwoo sounded genuine, though his next words were a complete slap in the face to that notion. “Plus, you can be my wing-woman so I can get a date at this party.”

You groan, drowning in Sunwoo’s infuriating chuckle. Minutes before you were about to hang up on him, unsolicited, your best friend chimes in again. 

“And besides… I have a sneaking suspicion you’re starting to warm up to that Juyeon guy.”

You choke, not once expecting that name to come out of Sunwoo’s mouth. You hate to admit it, but you weren’t so sure if Sunwoo was wrong anymore. You never looked at him with the same fury you had just a couple of weeks ago. He never showed up late to your practices and actually took in the feedback you gave him. You could barely recognize the guy, and you weren’t sure how to feel about that. The image of his stupid eye smile pops in your brain again, and you huff a groan. 

“What makes you say that?” You ask anyway, practically swimming in denial.

“‘Cause you, Park y/n, have finally stopped denying it.” Sunwoo answered, a smug grin swiping across his face. Shit. Could he really see right through you so easily? “The old y/n would’ve shut me up immediately, you know.”

You gulp. How stupid were you? “Shut up.”

“Guess it’s settled!” Sunwoo practically jumped for joy, you could sense it through the phone. “I’ll pick you up at 8!”

Note to self: never listen to a word Kim Sunwoo says. It’s a lesson you learnt the hard way. 

You push through the seemingly endless wave of university students, the stench of booze drilling through your nostrils. The neon lights pierced your eyes, you were convinced you were about to go blind. Though, you figured going blind wouldn’t have been so bad at the moment; you wanted nothing more than to unsee the poor puking freshman on your right, or the horny couple making out on your left. And worst of all? It seems that Kim Sunwoo had just disappeared into thin air; you couldn’t find him no matter where you searched. 

This was bad. Really bad. You see, Sunwoo wasn’t lying earlier when it came to not having any other friends. In fact, you were currently drowning in a sea of unfamiliar faces. You contemplated how the hell someone could know so many people. You, on the other—more unfortunate hand—only knew one other person. A person that could’ve gone to the moon and back by now; you’d be none the wiser. 

You clung onto the red solo cup as if your life depended on it. In reality, you knew one other person at this house party.

But was your heart ready to face him?

Truth is, your mind hasn’t stopped wandering to the image of Lee Juyeon ever since that last practice. The way he held you in his arms, lifted you in the air; it all stained your brain. The way he danced with you; elegant and graceful. His form and vigor when he completed each and every step of your routine; it never failed to give you butterflies. The way he reassured you at every sliver of worry that shined through your brow, or the way he protected you from such small things like the rain. He was there to comfort you; to shine a sliver of sunlight your way. To make your grumpy ass, smile, just once.

Maybe it was working.

A glimmer of bronze liquid shot down your throat. It burned. What were you thinking? Falling for Juyeon? You couldn’t. 

So why were you sitting on his goddamn couch? At a house party he invited you to?

Another big gulp slides down your throat, your tongue numb to the taste this time around. 

Before inviting you to the party, Juyeon contemplated your alcohol tolerance. It was natural, considering the amount of booze set aside for the party was nothing to scoff at. However, once the party was nearing its end, and with only a few people left at the Lee Residence—Juyeon definitely had an idea or two. Though your napping figure on the couch was a dead giveaway. 

Your figure only took over ⅓ of the couch, your body curled into a ball as your head rested on the back of the furniture. Your knees were tucked into your chest, your arms wrapping around them like the ribbon to a Christmas present. Red solo cups were littered around the floor and around you, most toppled over; all of them empty. Who knew you were the type to drink so heavy? Juyeon swiftly stripped off his zip up, draping it over you on instinct. 

The more Juyeon looked at you, the more his heart pounded. 

Juyeon placed himself on the couch—right beside you. The weight of his figure pulled yours further down, your head dropping down onto his shoulder. Juyeon’s face ignited, he’s never felt more happy to be in a room without people. He leaned closer to your frame—it was warm, toasty. Your breath reeked of booze, but for some reason, it didn't matter right now.

He stared at the way strands of your hair fell between your eyes, your eyelashes that could sweep the sky. It was something he never witnessed during your practices, mostly because you wouldn’t give him the chance to be near you. You were so stoic and cold normally, seeing you so soft and delicate was beyond new. You made his heart flutter. He couldn’t help but notice how soft your lips were, how they practically glistened under the living room lamp light. 

He wanted to kiss you.

A snore pushes from your figure, jolting him awake from his delusion. You hand, practically limp, inching closer to his so innocently. 

He couldn’t kiss you. Not like this.

“Oh my god, there you are!” A voice pops up from Juyeon’s right. The figure of a sophomore—presumably Kim Sunwoo appears. He turns his attention to him. “Hey, sorry about all this. It’s y/n’s first time at a party like this… I should’ve been more careful.”

“No worries,” Juyeon smiles. His hands ghost your shoulders, a tremor in his movements. “She’s, uh, safe with me.”

“I think our ride’s gonna be here soon, could you maybe gimme a hand?” Sunwoo runs a hand through the nape of his neck. Juyeon only nods, his attention rushing back towards you as he senses a soft touch grazing against his finger. 

It was you, fidgeting with his fingers in your sleep, completely unaware. 

God, you were killing him.

Gently, Juyeon shuffles around, picking you up from the couch in a way so desperate to not wake you up, and follows Sunwoo out the door with you in his arms. 

You were about to make your way into the dance practice room for your final practice that week when an image stopped you in your tracks like a deer in headlights. It was Juyeon. He beat you to the practice room, rehearsing his part of the routine before you even showed up. 

You caught your bag moments before it hit the floor. You would have never expected someone like Juyeon practicing extra. Hell, you were surprised he actually showed up to your scheduled practices to begin with. 

You found yourself stepping back to watch Juyeon dance. Your eyes were in a trance, spellbound by him. You couldn’t get over how fluid and elegant, yet powerful his movements were. It didn’t matter how much of a slacker he was, one thing was for sure: Juyeon never lacked in a performance. Your chest tightens at the sight of him as you gulp. You couldn’t seem to take your eyes off of him and his skin tight black shirt, with gray sweatpants hung snug at his hips. Nor his hair, practically drenched of sweat as it hung over his eyes. 

Why couldn’t you stop looking at him?

Were you actually falling for him?

A water break. A calming water break. That was all you ever wanted. Instead, you got your mind split eight different ways. 

A sudden warmth ghosted behind your shoulder. Juyeon’s chest brushes right up against your shoulder blade, his palm lightly clinging onto your waist as he slithers past you to grab his water bottle that was right beside yours. Your skin jumps straight into goosebump hell, sparks skidding off of the surface—fireworks. Juyeon’s hands were warm to the touch, a stark contrast to your frozen figure. You hated how soft his skin felt. Your heartbeat skyrocketed, your systems rebooted. All because of a little touch. You’re pathetic. 

“Excuse my reach,” he said, infuriatingly innocent.

You wanted to scream at him. You drank your water instead. 

After moving away, the two of you stood in silence, only the music of your performance looping every now and then. You thought it was normal—considering you’ve practically spent your entire time at school hating this man, it was natural you didn’t have much to talk about. Though, clearly, Juyeon thought it peculiar.

“Are you alright? You’ve been awfully quiet.”

You snort. “You say that like we talk often.”

Juyeon looks away from you. “Well, maybe I want us to talk more.”

Your heart was thumping rapidly again. You grip onto the fabric near your chest as an effort to slow down its pace. A failed attempt, anyway. The pit of your stomach fluttered at his smooth words. You, however, didn’t give way to his request, staying silent as you gulped down more of your water. Maybe then Juyeon would stop shaking you up so much.

“Oh, wait—stay still, y/n,” Juyeon’s voice popped in your ears once again. You watched as his hand swerved up towards your forehead. You felt his fingertips brush up against you, the back of his hand sliding down your cheek as he detangled strands of your stubborn hair. He huffs out a chuckle, eyes never leaving your sight. “You’re hair’s a little wonky–”

You weren’t fully recovered from the last unwanted touch from Lee Juyeon, circa 2 minutes ago. That was for sure. You’ve had it. You’ve had enough of his teasing. You needed answers. With your chest still ablaze, you swat Juyeon’s hand away, leaving the boy all doe-eyed and confused. You ball up your fist, pivoting to stand right in front of him. To stand your ground. 

“Just stop!” Your voice boomed. Your chest heaved as your eyes drilled through his. “What the hell are you doing?”

“What do you mean, I’m just—”

“I’m not just talking about this, I’m talking about everything! Why the hell are you so sweet to me? Why do you go out of your way to take care of me? Are you trying to toy with me or something? God, you’re driving me insane, Juyeon!” You utter, defeated.  You fiddle with your sleeves, steam practically poofing from your ears. 

Juyeon huffs a sigh from his chest, slowly taking steps around your agitated figure. “For your information, I’m not just toying with you.” He gazes at you from the reflection of the dance mirror, his voice traveling from behind. “I do genuinely care about you, y/n. I want to be sweet to you, I want to do all of those things. I like you, y/n”

I like you, too, you thought.

Though in reality, you choke, your heart caught in your throat. You couldn’t seem to look away from him as you gulped. “We can’t like each other, Juyeon,” Your voice was a hush. “We’re too different. We’re worlds apart.”

“I’d move worlds just to have a chance with you.” Juyeon rasped, his voice cradling your ear.

Your eyes widen. Your heartbeat was overpowering your ear drums. All you could hear were the constant thumps of the muscle. And all you could think about was Lee Juyeon. Suddenly, that same warmth cocoons your shoulder blades and your chest tightens. From the reflection on the mirror, you watch as Juyeon’s fingers brush against your wrist, moving down to your fingers. You watched as his left hand stayed with yours, as his right switched paths and landed on your bare waist. Your breath hitched. 

“Juyeon, we can’t…” You practically whimpered, not having the strength to finish. 

Juyeon’s lips were mere millimeters from the shell of your ear. “Are you sure?” His right hand suddenly lifts and begins to trace small shapes against your waist, his touch tingling you beyond belief. His left hand lifts your limp wrist right up against his lips. Instead of looking at your reflection, Juyeon looks right at you—the real you—before his voice drops to barely a whisper. 

“Make me stop, then.”

Juyeon kisses your wrist, pulling away your sleeves as he peppers soft kisses against your skin. With his right hand, his strokes against your skin grew stronger and wider, his index toying with the hem of your cropped shirt. You squeeze your eyes shut, your face flush as your stomach flutters. Your head was spinning, you rested it on his collarbone. You couldn’t take it anymore. 

“Don’t stop.”

Chuckling, Juyeon drops your hand, his palm cupping your cheek as he spins you to face him. Your breaths grew shallow at the sight of him. His eyes deepened as they gazed into you, pierced through you. You watched his breaths falter just like yours, picking at his lips and gulping before he speaks again. 

“Can I kiss you, y/n?”

“Please.”

That's all it took for Juyeon to dive into you, encasing his lips into yours. It was rough and rugged. As if he’d been restraining himself for years, maybe even centuries. With one hand still cupping your cheek, another one of his hands cross your back, pulling your figure up against his chest. Your hands, which were once clinging desperately onto the fabric of his sleeves, now roped around his neck. Your hand snaked towards his head, your fingers toying with a lock of his hair. On command, Juyeon grunts, his grasp around you tightening. His hold on your lips tightened with it. 

Butterflies exploded at the pit of your stomach. It was as if a burdening weight had been lifted off of your shoulders—you were practically floating in the air. You didn’t have to hide anymore, you didn’t have to run. You could say with pride. 

You liked Lee Juyeon.

“That was amazing, you two!” Your dance instructor beams as you and Lee Juyeon saunter back into the dressing room, heaving and sweating. The two of you had just finished your performance for the school’s annual club festival; a standing ovation. Your dance instructor was jumping with joy, swiping through the unfocused pictures she took of the performance with her phone and her unstable grasp. After mumbling something about letting the school newspaper know, and giving the both of you quick hugs, she runs out the door—leaving you two alone. 

Your eyes gaze upon the vanity mirror, eyeing your performance dress. It was covered in loose red sequins, you were a shimmering flame. A few detached sequins were scattered atop your shoulders—and Juyeons. They most likely came off while dancing, jumping onto his black, tight fit blazer, complete with red accent pieces and a particularly low set neckline, exposing his bare chest. You wouldn’t be lying if you said you had snuck in a look or two. Juyeon looked too good to pass up. 

Besides, it seems like he’d say the same thing right now. 

Juyeon’s eyes drilled through you. His figure slowly inched closer to you, his hands hugging the edges of your waist once he got close enough. It seems as though it was his favourite place to hold you—and you didn’t mind. It gave you butterflies every single time. His lips traced your jaw, peppering a small kiss before whispering in your ear. “You look beautiful, y/n.”

You hum a chuckle, sliding a hand up his chest and around his neck. “Too bad my dress is coming off soon.”

Juyeon’s eyebrows shoot up to the sky. “That was bold.”

You smack his shoulder. “Not that! I meant that the dress isn’t mine, dumbass. I’ll have to change out of it before I leave tonight. You, too!”

“Oh right.” Juyeon deadpanned, pouting before a light bulb buzzed from the crown of his head. After his steps cause you to move backwards, Juyeon lifts you slightly and plops you on the surface of the vanity desk. With his hands on each of your thighs, Juyeon leans forward, his face barely a centimeter apart from yours. Your lips, just breaths away from his. “Maybe I can be of some assistance?”

“You’re so dumb, Juyeon.” You punch his chest with no actual force. In truth, you wanted him, right then and there. You ball up his collar into your fist, pulling him in for a kiss. A groan lifts from your chest as you cling around his neck. Juyeon moves closer to you, ever so slightly spreading your legs apart. His hands, still on your thigh, trail up the skin, his fingers peeking through the hem of your skirt. His touch elicits another moan from your lips, making you pull from your kiss. 

“Juyeon” You whimper. 

Juyeon cups your cheek. “Not now, baby. I can only have you for myself. We need to go somewhere private.”

Your breath hitched. “Then take me home.”

Your skin was on fire as Juyeon laid you on the plush of your bed. Lee Juyeon was cruel—giving you a taste of him right before making you wait. Juyeon leans into you, deepening the kiss, a hand sinking down into the mattress beside you. His tongue swipes at your lips, demanding for an opening. You grant it, his tongue dancing inside the walls or your mouth. It slides against yours; a performance of bliss. You moan, your arms clinging from underneath his shoulders, your grip growing tighter. You weren’t going to let him slip through your fingertips. You weren’t going to lose him. Not again.

Juyeon’s hand wandered mischievously, his touch teasing you. One hand pressed against your bare thigh—it didn’t take him much to get you in just a shirt and panties. He traces your skin slowly. Painfully slow. His other hand slipped underneath the hem of your shirt, moving straight to the swell of your breasts. He took your breast in his large hand, massaging your skin. He takes your nipple in his fingers, swirling the tip with his pads. It sends your head spinning, your back arching and your chest pushing closer to him. You mewl at his touch. You needed more.

Your lips pop apart, swollen from the pressure. Juyeon wouldn’t dare to look away from you. His hands move again. 

“Does this make you feel good?” His breath was hot and heavy—it burned against your lips. You barely muster a whisper. “Yes—more.”

He pressed another hand right on your other breast, playing with your nipple. It sent you soaring, dirty noises lifting from your lips. It was a sight for sore eyes, seeing you so pent up just for him. Juyeon replaces his hand with his lips, peppering kisses all over your breast. Claiming it as his own. He takes his sweet time, leaving love bites and hickeys trailing up and down your skin. His lips envelope your center, his tongue swirling your hardened peak. Your moans grow louder as you grip a lock of his hair—sending him into overdrive. He groans into your skin, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine.

His hand was merely centimeters away from the place you needed him most. Your core was throbbing, aching for his touch. It soaked the wimpy fabric. You grip his hair harder, growing irritated from how much he was teasing you. Juyeon only snickers, lightly pressing into your clothed folds with his thumb, sending shockwaves down your body. “How bad do you want me, baby?”

You subconsciously jut your hips forward, pressing his thumb ever so slightly further into your core. You were getting restless. “So bad, Juyeon. I need you—everything.”

After teasing your clothed core, Juyeon pulled over the wet fabric, leaving your pussy bare, open. Slowly, Juyeon pushes a finger into your core, his pad dancing in your walls. You sharply inhale at the length of his fingers. Fuck, his hands were big. His calloused knuckles grazed your insides. A moan jumps from your lips as Juyeon pumps in another finger—filling your core up more. The thrusts of his wrists grew faster, your walls coming in tighter, moments before collapsing at his touch. You prop yourself up, looking down to watch the dirty image of Juyeon’s hands fucking your pussy mindless. Juyeon pumps a third finger, curling all three of them as he reaches deeper inside you. Your core was throbbing as you failed to stifle all the dirty noises leaping from your throat. 

You instinctively thrust into his hands, making him reach more. though you didn’t need to try too hard; not with Juyeon’s long fingers fucking you deep already. Juyeon’s lips swipe at your jaw, peppering kisses and tracing his tongue around your skin. You were convinced you were seeing stars. But you knew Juyeon wasn’t done just yet. Juyeon’s thumb begins to swipe circles around your clit. It was the same motion your head was spinning in from the bliss of his touch. 

Your walls tightened around his fingers, his thrusts grew rampant and primal. You threw your head back—your body was out of your control, now. It was all his. 

“Juyeon,” you said his name without realizing.  

“That’s it, baby. Cum all over me.”

And you did. With one last groan of his name, you came undone by his fingers. Your juices coated his palm, as well as a little pool in between the wrinkles of your innocent bedsheets. After gaining just the smallest bit of consciousness, you look up at Juyeon. A tent of fabric propped up right below his torso. 

 Just then, you had an idea. Gathering up all of your strength, you pushed Juyeon down into the bed. You climb over top of him, his clothed bulge rubbing against your raw pussy. You pressed a hand down his chest, dipping your head to whisper in his ear. “Can I ride you?”

Juyeon groans, gripping onto your hips. “Fuck, yes.”

You tug down at his waistband, and the two of you work together to pull down his pants. His length reveals itself, throbbing at a stiff peak. It caught you tongue tied. There was a reason his hands were so big. You couldn’t help but lick your lips as you unrolled the condom. The latex summoned a groan from him, his finger digging into your skin. You positioned your entrance at his tip, a stark inhale running through your chest as you finally sunk into his length. Yours and his moans intertwine, dancing in the night sky as you began your slow thrusts. 

Juyeon’s cock grazed against all of your walls, the friction was driving you insane. He filled you up, fucked you deep. He throbbed into your walls, exploring you deeper than you could ever imagine. You wanted, no, needed more, thrusting faster into his length. He was hitting all of your spots, he was perfect. Lewd noises circled around your bodies; your skin slapping into each other, the premature juices webbing in and out of your core, the repeated calling out of each other’s names. Juyeon’s grip on your hips grew tighter, his forearms tensing to bring you closer to him; to bring him deeper into you. Your thrusts grew dirty, readjusting yourself to get more power in each thrust using your feet. Juyeon brings a hand behind you, palming and massaging your ass. 

You could feel your walls clamping in again, tightening around his cock. Clearly he could feel it, too. It was obvious with the way his hips push forward, his head drilling into the pillow. Though it wasn’t long until you had your head thrown back—drowning in ecstasy. 

“Fuck, you’re tight, y/n.” Juyeon rasped in between grunts. Though you were too busy in your own world. You only mewl, thrusts becoming messy and unpampered. “Your pussy feels so good, it fits my cock just right.”

Juyeon sneaks a mischievous finger to rub your clit again. He drilled against your sweet spot, your mind trapped in a haze. A dream just with Lee Juyeon. With one last conjoined moan, the two of you crash into each other, cumming in unison. Your hot juices overflow, pooling between your two figures.

Exhausted, you plop beside him. He greets you with his signature eye smile—one infecting you personally as you smile back at him. He encases your frame in an embrace, his forehead wiggling into the crook of your neck. “You did so good, baby.”

You embrace him back, butterflies forming in the pit of your stomach. “You dummy.”

[eijirousbestie]

YOUR ART MAJOR STORY WAS FIRE!! IM AN ART MAJOR AND WE HAD TO DO DETAILED PORTRAITS THIS MORNING AS AN ACTIVITY OVER THE NEXT FEW DAYS AND ALL I COULD THINK ABOUT WAS YOUR STORY 😭😭😭😭 anyway i had the vision of Y/N doing a portrait of bakugou for her class ❤️❤️❤️❤️

AHH THANK YOU SM hearing someone thought abt my story in their day to day life is actually insane so thank you for reading!! Love to see a fellow art major around here🤝🏽I hope this story is to your liking i tried my best😭<33

“Can I draw you?”

this is kinda long (I got too into it lol)

pulling at the heartstrings a bit here

he’s a willing participant???

unorganized dishes

golden hour

* * *

Being an art student had its perks. For one thing you didn’t have “real” homework like other classes and you could spend majority of your time creating something new. In other cases, being an art student was dreadful, and today proved that to be true.

Walking into class and setting your bag down, you sit at your easel and scroll on your phone as your professor waits for other students to trickle in before he takes attendance. The sound of a chair scooting can be heard as your professor makes his presence known and calls role. He finishes and places his clipboard down, clapping his hands together with enthusiasm.

“Good morning guys! First things first, I just wanted to say you all did a great job at critique this past Tuesday. I was very impressed with the outcome of all your pieces. Now for those of you who have checked the class schedule, you’ll know we have our Portrait 1 assignment due at the end of next week. I’ll give further instructions and we’ll go ahead and get started on those today.” He grabs a stack of papers, assuming to be said detailed instructions for your next assignment. As soon as he hands you a copy, you skim through the premise of what you’re going to be doing.

Portrait 1 Assignment

1. Pick a subject you will be referencing to for your portrait. (No you cannot use a reference online. It has to be someone you can poke).

2. Arrange a time outside of class to meet with your subject to begin your sketch.

3. Pick a feature of your subject to enhance in your final drawing. You can add color, darken line weight or distort the feature you chose, but the rest of the portrait should be in the style of a sketch.

This drawing should be done on an 18x24 sheet of paper from your sketchbook and no smaller.

You internally cringe at the thought of having to snatch someone from campus to sit with you for hours just so you can draw them. You instantly begin to think of people you know who you can draw. You take your phone out and begin typing up a message to a friend of yours, asking when they’re free. Much to your dismay, they inform you that they have work directly after class all this week and won’t be able to help. You understand, but now you’ve got yourself stuck and you absolutely refuse to ask a stranger. For the remainder of the period, all you can do is mindlessly write a list of names and the pros and cons of their potential availability.

* * *

Sitting in the living room after getting back to the dorms, you rest after having no success trying to recruit anyone to be your reference. The dorms are practically empty as everyone is out doing something. Working, training, shopping. Everything you don’t do. Essentially losing hope for the day, you resort to lounging on the couch. Cozy pajamas nearly lulling you to sleep. However before you can slip into the best nap of your life, clanging from the kitchen startles you awake. Whispered curses soon follow, ultimately giving away who caused the noise. Getting up from your oh so comfy spot, you make your way to the kitchen to investigate. Peeking a head in the doorway, you see a rather frazzled Bakugou picking up pots and pans that had fallen to the floor.

Looking at his bent form, you speak up. “You aight?” He picks up the last pot and places it on the counter before responding, fully facing you.

“I’m good. My bad if I woke you.” You give a shrug and lean your hip on the doorframe, arms crossed over your chest.

“Nah you’re fine. Wasn’t fully knocked out anyway. What were you doing in here?”

“Reorganizing. For whatever reason, idiots around here can’t understand that stacking dishes causes shit to fall. Just proved my point too.” His eyes fall on the various pans on the counter he was in the process of arranging. You give a chuckle and move to help put them away.

“Say it louder for the people in the back.”

“Yeah well apparently they ‘don’t respond well to yelling.’ Whatever the fuck that means.” He nags as you both place each dish in their respective places.

“Gotta give em a glare or side eye to get the message across,” you joke.

“Shit only goes so far. But if looks could kill everybody here would be on their deathbed.”

“Jesus man, gruesome much?” You let out a heartier chuckle, actually entertained by his empty threats.

“S’called being self-aware.” He leans against the now empty counter and folds his arms across his chest. A silly thought crosses your mind. A glimpse of hope even. You decide to pursue it.

“Speaking of looks,” you start off tentatively, “I could really use yours if you’ll let me.”

He gives you a half-curious look, left eyebrow slightly raised as he side eyes you. “The hell’s that mean?”

You’re not sure whether it’s the desperation talking or the fact that you’re half asleep, but you immediately hit him with your dilemma.

“Well… can I draw you?” It seems like minutes that go by before he responds with a sharp click of his tongue.

“Lay off the drugs huh? Shit’s got you talkin outta your ass.”

“Bakugou please! I need a reference for an assignment and I’d really appreciate if you’d let me draw you. It won’t take long I swear I’m fast!” Your hands are clasped together as you ask for his cooperation.

“The hell’d you wanna draw me for? Plenty other people you could ask.”

You don’t have it in your heart to mention nobody else was available to help you. It’d be like blatantly telling him he was the last option and you don’t want to potentially upset him by saying that. It’s not necessarily true either, you just didn’t think he would be up for it in the first place so you didn’t want to bother him. He was your saving grace really, never the last option.

“Well you’ve got great eyes. And perfect eyebrows too. So it’s kinda hard not to want to draw you. But seriously, if you’ll let me, I’ll do my very best to capture the best parts of you. Please?” If you hadn’t known any better, you could’ve sworn you saw his hands clutch the counter in a death grip. He’s quiet for a moment. Two moments. Then he shakes his head in disbelief and his eyes sweep to look at anything else but you.

“Fine. Just don’t make me look like shit got me?” A light look of embarrassment covers his face. It’s endearing.

“I promise.” You smile a wide grin, relief relaxing your shoulders. “You mind if we get started tonight? I’m kinda behind as it is.”

He gives a nod and a hum in response. You tell him to stay put as you grab your sketchbook. He takes a seat on the couch and watches the slow sunset. It’s golden hour and the living room is filled with warm oranges and yellows as the sun is close to calling it a day. You come back, supplies in hand and before you can put your things down, you catch Bakugou as he gazes out of the window, the setting sun casting onto his face. With his hand propped under his chin, he looks ethereal. His red eyes now a vermilion as the rays reflect on them. It highlights his jawline, casting shadows that make the edges prominent. His hair aglow in the light, tufts of blonde now appearing marigold. You don’t realize how silly you must look staring at him until his eyes flicker to your frozen form. His gravelly voice pulling you out of your thoughts.

“Got your stuff?” He doesn’t move from his spot as he asks. You gather your bearings and nod.

“Yeah uh I got everything I need. We can start now if you’re ready?” You walk over to the couch where he sits, setting up your easel right in front of him.

“Mmh go ahead. Is there a certain way you wanna do this or?”

“No no what you’re doing now is fine. It’s actually better if you’re comfortable. We might be here a while, but let me know when you need a break.” He gives a nod of approval and you’re off, hands sketching and eyes darting back and forth between easel and subject. Soft scratching noises from graphite on paper filled the silence. By this point you were detailing the features of his hand holding up his face. Neat nail beds and cleanly trimmed. Bruised and scarred knuckles from countless hours of training. A strong neck that connected to an even stronger jaw, probably chiseled by the gods themselves.

You’d be lying to yourself if you thought drawing him would be a chore. It was actually enjoyable. There was no need for trivial conversation. Just you sitting there, drawing him as he let you. Him trusting you to capture his very being with only a pencil. It was a beautiful experience and you couldn’t be more grateful that you both were a part of it.

[nereidprinc3ss]

making this anonymous because i want to be a sneaky girl… i fear you’ll probably know who i am and if you know pretend u don’t because she’s not me i promise LOLLLL but i liked part 7 a lot i really liked how there was a big emphasis on how they’re doing this because they love each other i thought that was really sweet 😭 i think for me personally i’ve always had this thought of if a man wants to have sex with me he sees me as an object, so i’ve always kinda opposed the whole sexual thoughts thing but while reading dybmn (not to say blah blah fanfic cured me blah blah blah) it helped me realize you can have those thoughts and feeling for someone while simultaneously loving them and that doesn’t make you a bad person, i appreciated how much that showed in part 7.

(ALSO COULD BE TOTALLY WRONG ABT THIS NEXT PART DONT CANCEL ME I KNOW THE DYBMN ARMY ANALYSIS THESE FICS TO PIECES SO IF IM WRONG PLS IM SORRY this is just what i gathered)

what i think made this part different from the rest (besides the loss of virginity thing) is that if i’m not mistaken this was not only readers first time having sex, but spencer’s first time having sex with someone who mutually feels the same way about him COULD BE SOOO WRONG but with the whole elle thing and then him just having a slut era where he hooked up with a bunch of women i just assume he’s never had sex with someone who is in love with him but i’m sorry if i am missing something 😭😭 obviously they did like hand and mouth stuff first but they were both under the impression they either felt differently about each other, or weren’t aware of it yet. so i thought it was really cute how they kept saying i love you because i’m sure having that emotional factor changes sex but what would i know LOLLL it was just special to me💕 anywho im done yappin now, have the most perfect night!!!!

OK OMG IM GONNA TALK ABT THIS UR BRAIN IS SOOOO HUGE

that was one of the most important parts to get across for me. i think porn and smut have really fucked with people’s perceptions of sex and obviously i am contributing to that in my own way but i REALLY wanted to write something where it was so clear that the love came first and was far more important than the sex, but also that they intertwined so much, like the sex was an EXPRESSION of love. and also even though reader has been beggginggg spencer to fuck for like ever, in MY opinion she subconsciously wasn’t actually ready for it until now. she basically wanted to have sex because she was worried abt what other people thought and wanted to appease her insecurities but for both of them, having sex was really about love which is always my attitude towards it as well, i am very anti hookup culture being the dominant way people connect and obviously do what you want but i hate that now it’s the expectation that you aren’t or even shouldn’t get attached to the person you’re sleeping with. so basically this is propaganda and me furthering my own agenda. i don’t think sex has to be “dirty” or warrant guilt at all, it can be something (we’re getting corny🚨🚨) that is JUST for you and your partner, not performative, and done because you truly love each other. like to me that’s so romantic—eliminating all outside influence and being very private bc it’s this one incredibly intimate thing you share only with each other. obviously this will not be everyone’s perspective but i find monogamy and commitment soooo sexy lol like make each other feel special!! that is so cute!! choose each other and share things you wouldn’t share with anyone else!!!! i love it!! sex when u love someone has like nothing to do with our societal perception of sex and it sucks that we’ve like bastardized it so much

[tyran-the-tyranical]

I know everyone’s tired to death about hearing about Hope and the boudoir but I’ve just realised there’s already kinda some evidence that nothing at least physically might’ve happened to Hope in the Boudoir or specifically done by Raphael, he isn’t innocent either tho. (Also I won’t talk abt this again man, I just want to point some interesting things out 👉👈)

“Everything in this House exists for Raphael's pleasure, and Raphael's pleasure alone. That includes Raphael himself, whatever form he takes.”

First thing to note, I wanna make it clear that when she says this, she is explicitly talking about Haarlep (also kinda Raphael, but she is clearly talking abt Haarlep here)

If anything physical did happen to Hope in the Boudoir, it doesn’t make sense that it would be Raphael actually doing it himself, it would make more sense that he would’ve gotten Haarlep to do it. Though I don’t even believe that’s the case since though Sucubus/incubus aren’t lawful evil and are more neutral evil, and therefore don’t need to do contracts or whatever, yet Haarlep still asked for your consent to play their game, which doesn’t make sense if they were shown to be forceful before. Like why change it up?

Also, Raphael wants Hope to willingly submit to him - to serve him. Torture is a great motivator for sure, but going anything further than that would kinda break his MO. Rather, I think he brought Hope into the boudoir to entice her, show off Haarlep to her basically; Their many forms, and many talents. Basically trying to tempt her with pleasures of the flesh, and have Haarlep put on a ‘show’ or ‘performance’ to reel her in. (Which obviously didn’t work in the slightest)

Since what would be the point of physically forcing her to submit? It basically goes against everything he’s been trying to get from her, I mean, If he wanted he could probably just make her a mindless thrall through some other means, but that’s not what he wants, he wants her willing submission/defeat.

And finally, If you play as Astarion and have him get ‘down and dirty’ with Haarlep, he won’t fall easily to the incubus’s seductions and even Haarlep themselves is like no one has been able to resist me before, so if Haarlep did anything to Hope then how has she not already submitted? If she wasn’t able to resist, well that means she either lost her body/form to Haarlep or would’ve lost her soul, and tbh neither seem to be the case so how was astarion the only one to be able to resist Haarlep once they’re already getting ‘down and dirty’ and yet Hope still hasn’t submitted to anyone or given in, so she most likely had never even gotten close to being tempted to be with Haarlep and therefore would’ve never needed to resist them if they ever ‘got down and dirty.’

I don’t think I’m gonna talk about this again, I think enough has been said about the whole affair, but I have since changed my mind abt it, since there was actually a lot more dialogue abt the topic in game that I didn’t catch, and her line about her time in there and talking about the place being sticky and gross, sure it’s initially very visceral sounding but is also just a visual descriptor of the type of gross shit that she saw go down in that place. Also, either way it doesn’t change much since Raphael has already literally tortured to insanity (or as close to it as possible).

[omniwhore]

Ways to trick yourself to Go Outside

@thelostones-world asked about some ways to battle the AuDHD urge to stay in cave tm nd get the delicious outdoor stimulation

I decided to do a full blown post in hopes that it might help others, so here’s a few suggestions for

when you don’t wanna go out but know it would make you feel better

- ✨splish splosh water on face✨

In effort to feel less dissociated nd foggy and more in touch with your body and needs, I recommend something that helps me come back into my body - go to the bathroom and splash your face with cold/room temperature water.

Additionally you can put on a skin cream or moisturizer to further ground yourself nd reconnect with feeling physically present in your body.

This should help you feel more ready to spring into action!

- 🌤️open window sniff the air🌤️

One way to trick myself into being excited abt leaving the apartment nd going outside is to open a window and just,,, stare outside, feel the sunshine or the wind on your skin, smell the fresh air, listen to the hum nd sounds that are suddenly that much closer....

It helps me remember the good feeling of being outside and feeling so happy and stimulated and grounded. Then I just remind myself that more of this is only a couple steps away!

- 👚prepare an outfit in advance👚

Another way to trick yourself into being more amenable to leaving the house is to take time the day prior to prepare the outfit you’ll wear.

Aim for whatever you’d like to prioritize - comfort/safety, your favorite style that you want to show off, something you've been waiting for an excuse to wear, or something that reminds you of the location you want to visit.

(ie. goblincore outfit for a walk in the park, cottagecore outfit for a farmer's market, academia outfit for a library visit or a café study/art/reading session etc.)

Having an outfit already put together that you can just slip into gives your brain less opportunities to chicken out - and can help you get hyped up for whatever you're about to go do!

- 🌸gamify your outings🌸

Give yourself a mission (instead of writing down "go for a walk" in your planner, write "go on foot to {location} and back" or "walk outside for {n} minutes" or "collect 5 fallen leaves").

Boom! Now your brain won't get overwhelmed by ohmygod there’s so many things I could be doing what about we just abandon it altogether???

You have a mission to focus on. And when you're done, it's up to you whether you wanna keep going or whether you wanna head back home. For me, even a 10 or 15 min walk can make a big difference if I haven't been out for days.

- 📒plan things ahead of time📒

I always found meticulous planning vry comforting for my autistic side. It makes it significantly easier to psych myself up for something involving leaving the house if I let myself know that it's happening at least three days in advance.

Think about sitting down with a planner or a plain notebook, or your phone calendar (so handy! can include pings, map routes, and any additional info u might need to complete the mission!) and brainstorming some activities you'd like to do outdoors!

- 💚make plans with others💚

Hanging out with your friends in person if you can is a great way to make yourself show up, and is generally super good for your brain!

Idk about you, but if I told a friend I’m gonna be there at 5, I am gonna be there at god damned 5!!!

- 🎟️purchase tickets for events🎟️

Check facebook, reddit or whatever neighborhood (online) space you can come by for free or affordable events in your area!

Whether the goal is to be around people nd feel less anxious/alienated, or to just feed your brain some delicious stimulation at the museum or a pop up market, purchasing a ticket for an event can hold you more accountable to show up!

(Again recommend sitting down and planning at least 3 days ahead as to not have a meltdown abt the stress of figuring out the logistics)