#work is INSANELY slow so I really needed a distraction

[queeriboh]

I didn't get any requests for this meme so I went ahead and just picked the first one that made me think of a blorbo. I wanted to just practice drawing smth silly as quick as possible (this still took me like 3 hours tho lol) and a new style so !!!!! this was a fun excuse to do that

[polarisjisung]

ꨄ X-O, KISS ME, DON'T SAY NO

KISSES WITH ENHYPEN

pairings: enha x fem! reader genre: fluff wc: 1k warnings: use of petnames, slightly suggestive notes: I wrote this for dream had to do it for enha too ! | LIBRARY

HEESEUNG — desperate, flirty kisses

A simple peck doesn't exist for Heeseung. You're like his drug, once he gets a taste, he's addicted. Quick morning kisses are impossible. One peck on your forehead easily turns into a full makeout session and suddenly you're late for work. And not for a second is Heeseung worried about your impending anger, instead he'll try and convince you to call in sick, no work meant more time for kisses, right?

“Heeseung, I have places to be” You know it's no use arguing but you seem to try anyway.

You'd been in this situation countless times before, and it ended the same way each time. In your defence, Heeseung was pretty good at convincing.

“Yeah, want me to list a few?”

Something about a kiss-driven Heeseung is so exceptionally flirty. You both know that you're never getting out of this your way. “My arms, the bed, against the wall if you're into that.

Okay maybe you didn't take much convincing either.

“All of the above?”

Heeseung can't dispute that.

JAY — forehead kisses

Jay's kisses are spontaneous, but so tender and loving, like a scene cut out straight from a high school romance.

You're perched up on the sofa with your nose stuck in one of those picture-perfect romance books you love so much.

Jay can barely make out your face from the material of the hood pulled over your head.

You look cute. There's a pair of blue light glasses resting on your nose and your eyebrows are furrowed with concentration. Jay couldn't help but leave a soft peck against your forehead. He takes a couple moments to just sit beside you and stare, truly wondering how he ever got so lucky.

Next thing you know, his hand moves carefully to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear, his thumb positioned just under your chin, guiding you into a slow, soft kiss.

JAKE — messy kisses

Jake kisses like a man starved.

Hands tugging at your hair, arms around your waist, loud, shallow pants filling the room. It's like he can't get enough.

He pulls back to stare at you, breathless. But only for a moment.

To Jake, catching his breath seems awfully difficult when you're staring up at him with swollen lips and a sultry gaze.

“I could kiss you forever.”

His words are more a promise than a statement, and how could you not believe him when he pulls you back in so impossibly close, letting his cold fingertips run across your skin.

Both his hands cup your cheeks, passionately. Lips moving over yours with an unsteady, fervent rhythm, and so much urgency, you swear you feel your heart beat out of your chest.

Each time you kiss is like the first, brash. But Jake always holds you so tight, like he's afraid you'll disappear the second he lets go.

When he does finally pull away, Jake exhales a soft laugh, giggling almost.

“You alright?”

You can only nod, burying your face in the crook of his neck.

SUNGHOON — distracted kisses

Playful fights or debates like whether orange juice is better than apple (it's not) or whether milk comes before or after the cereal always seem to arise with you and Sunghoon.

Part of it has to do with the fact that Sunghoon thinks you look so insanely fine when you're passionately arguing your point forwards.

But somewhere along the way Sunghoon stops listening to what you're saying, eyes zeroing in on your lips when he'd come to a sudden realisation. That shade of lipstick suited you, a little too well maybe.

“Hoon, are you even listening?”

He nods, he's not listening.

He wouldn't have this problem if the lipstick wasn't there. But you were still explaining in full detail, hand gestures and everything. And as much as he loved to hear you ramble, Sunghoon could not concentrate.

He was going insane— he needed to kiss you. Now.

You don't really know why you continue, seeing as Sunghoon's clearly not present, but you can't help but gasp when he pulls you in close and crashes his lips to yours.

“You're right, I wasn't listening”

JUNGWON — soft morning kisses

Soft and intimate, that's what kissing Jungwon feels like.

There’s quiet whispers of ‘I love you's’ and the sweetest compliments.

Even if you've just rolled out of bed, when your hair's a mess and your eyes can barely open all the way, Jungwon thinks you're beautiful.

“Good morning my love” he presses a kiss to the back of your head, just below your ear as he slips past you on the couch, making his way to the kitchen so he can check on breakfast.

But he can only stay away for so long, running back a few minutes later with your morning coffee and a couple kisses to keep you occupied while you wait for it to cool down.

“I love you.” he'd keep it short and sweet, holding your face in hands with so much care. By the time breakfast is ready, not a single inch of your pretty face remains unkissed and that's an achievement Jungwon is insanely proud of.

SUNOO — giggly kisses

You and Sunoo are like the epitome of PDA— cuddling, quick pecks on the cheeks, always holding hands— you have to have your hands on each other at all times. It's sickeningly sweet.

And matters only get worse when your behind closed doors, Sunoo would spend all his time with his lips glued to yours if he could.

He's obsessed with you, and your strawberry flavoured chapstick is anything but helpful. He needs kisses, no matter what it is you're doing.

“Sunoo, I'm busy.” You roll your eyes at him playfully, but he only shrugs, spinning you around on your desk chair.

“Too busy for kisses?”

When you nod, it's Sunoo's turn to roll his eyes.

“Wrong answer.”

And he crashes his lips to yours just as he had intended, illiciting a few giggles from you, laughing at his urgency.

NI-KI — kisses in the rain

Kisses never last too long with riki, quick pecks, passionate and loving but short. Long kisses, something you'd both be down to try but had never actually made the effort to. It's felt scary, awkward, maybe?

The two of you always had a more easygoing relationship, so your more affectionate gestures had always been kept to a minimum.

Until one night when your car broke down and you found yourself stranded in the middle of nowhere.

Rain pelted down from the sky and the wind whistled loudly, but even so, you'd be a fool not to step out of the car and watch the sunset in person.

You and Riki sat with your legs crossed, dangerously close to the cliff edge, bodies pressed against each other as an attempt to conserve heat.

There was something about that moment— maybe the soft glow of the sky as the sun dipped just below the horizon — or the way your eyes beamed and sparkled as each strand of your hair slowly grew wet. Something so raw.

Riki couldn't even bring himself to hesitate, pulling you into his lap in one swift motion and kissing you urgently.

One hand reached back to grip your hair, and another cradled your chin, guiding your lips further into his.

Safe to say, kissing in the rain might just be his favourite.

taglist: @chenlezip @nanawrlds @mystverse @jenobubbles @flaminghotyourmom @lotties-readings

[hope-drunk]

DRESS

| you and abby are hiding your relationship from your friends, but you can't deny the sexual tension in the car before nora's end of summer party

| cw: 18+, mommy kink, friends with benefits situation, car sex, use of strap (r!receiving), pet names, public sex i suppose but it's said that they're in a very secluded area, happy ending

| wc: 2.5k

Maybe if Abby didn’t want you to get turned on on the way to the party, she shouldn’t have worn her hair down with a baseball cap turned around. Not to mention the black cutoff she was wearing. You feel like you're going insane. Your thighs press together in the passenger seat as she lights another cigarette, holding it slightly out the window so that the smoke doesn't get inside. 

When you heard Nora was finally throwing her end of summer kickback, you and Abby jumped at the opportunity to attend. It was always nice to see everyone after the summer had kept everyone busy. But you didn’t even care about that anymore. The only thing you could care about was how large Abby’s arms looked in her shirt, and how small the cigarette looked between her fingers.

You had been casually seeing each other, emphasis on casually. You had been friends for a very long time. You had grown up together, and when you went to college you moved in together. You couldn’t remember a time in your life when you weren’t with Abby. But, getting together was difficult. It would be weird to announce it to your friends. You were both scared that it would become too much, and it would ruin your friendship. So you decided to take it slow– really slow. You mainly had sex, and then didn’t talk about the sex after. So, you especially didn’t want to walk into the party with all your other friends smelling like sex.

“You need something?” She says, snapping you out of your daze.

You shake your head, scared of the words that would come out if you tell her what you were thinking. You pull the dress you're wearing down out of a nervous habit; mainly hoping that it'll hide the way your thighs are moving together every time she looks over at you. It's embarrassing, honestly. She hasn't even done anything. You’ve seen her in an outfit like this countless times. But there’s something about tonight; something about the way she’s driving and the way she’s carrying herself. So easily confident. You’re captivated by her. 

What you didn’t know is that you were driving Abby equally as crazy. The red dress you had picked out specifically for this party hugged your body in all the right ways. It accentuates her favorite parts of you. When you walked out into the living room all dolled up, she swore she almost came in her pants. She immediately went back into the room and threw on the strap under her shorts. Maybe you knew, maybe you didn’t. But with the way you were pressing your thighs together, she knew something was working for you tonight. She decided that she didn’t want to make it easy for you though. You would have to beg; you would have to get really desperate for Abby to consider fucking you on the side of the road.

“Do you think Mel will be there?” You say, trying to ease the sexual tension in the car.

“Hmm– I’m not sure. I know Owen said she wasn’t feeling the best the past few days. I don’t even know if he’ll be there, honestly.” 

“Oh, I hope she feels better.” You reply. Abby nods her head and hums, signaling the end of the conversation.

You wish she would make small talk, you wish she would do anything to distract the way you were thinking. She can hear you thinking, but it doesn’t work in your favor. Abby puts out her cigarette in the ashtray in the car. Then, she puts a rough hand onto your thigh, rubbing her thumb back and forth on the skin there. You almost scream. Your back straightens and you let out a small puff of air, showing your displeasure of the act. You want her to take away her hand, you don’t want to ask her to fuck you on the side of the road. But you also think you may die if she does. She inches her hand further up, the side of her palm almost touches where you need her. You look over at her; panicked. She has her tongue in her cheek, like she’s trying not to laugh.

“Abby,” you mumble.

“What, baby?” She says, pinky twitching towards you.

“Stop trying to turn me on.”

“I’m not trying to do anything. If you get turned on, that’s not my fault.” She knows it doesn't work like that, but she also knows that you love when she pretended it did. 

Abby 100% knew what she was doing. It was purely selfish. She wants to fuck you. Now. She wants to take you to the backseat and have her way with you. But she was never going to pull over the car. You would hang it over her head for years to come. ‘Remember that time you got so horny we were late to Nora’s party?’ She can practically hear your voice in her head. She knows you can't take it; knows that you will have to ask her to pull over.

Abby’s hand moves up far enough that she’s finally touching your cunt. You can’t help the small noise that escapes from your mouth. A whine; a plea. Whatever it was, Abby laughs, then moves her hand back down.

“No more teasing, please.”

“Why not?” She questions, smug look on her face when she turns to look at you.

You decide to be honest to her, “I will make you pull over the car if you keep teasing me.”

“So, make me pull over the car.” Abby says nonchalantly, putting her eyes back on the road.

You suck in a deep breath and pull your bottom lip between your teeth. “They’ll know,”

“They’re not gonna know. Just ask me to pull over. We’re in the middle of nowhere; there’s not even any streetlights. It’s two words, sweetheart, you know I’m up for it.”

The silence is deafening. You try to work up the courage as best as you can; opening and closing your mouth repeatedly. 

Her hand pushes up towards your clit again. “Pull over.” You moan out, before even knowing what you’re saying.

Abby speeds onto the shoulder of the road, not bothering to turn her hazards on since you’re in such a secluded area. The good part about the drive to Nora’s house was that there was barely a road. It was mainly dirt, the yellow lines that were once painted had been long forgotten. You and Abby had made fun of her for moving out in the middle of nowhere; now you wanted to personally thank her for it. 

Abby moves her seat all the way back. Before you move into her lap, you take off your panties and leave them in the passenger seat. She groans and takes off her hat. You sit right down onto her lap and moan when you feel the hard silicone that’s under her shorts.

“Why’d you wear that? Did you plan this?” You say accusingly. 

“Knew I’d need it. That’s all.”

“You’re so fucking cocky,” you say before smashing your lips onto hers.

Her hands meld into your ass. She uses her strength to move you back and forth on her lap, which forces you to grind into her. You whine into her mouth. She moves her kisses onto your neck and continues to rock you back and forth on her.

“Please, I want it.” You say, feeling yourself getting close from the way her pants are rubbing on your clit.

“Want what, sweetheart? C’mon, tell me.”

“Want your cock; don’t wanna cum like this.”

“You always ask me so politely. Love getting you worked up. S’the only time you’re not a brat.”

You pout at her and she smiles; knowing that her words are driving you crazy.

“C’mon, hips up,”

You shoot up off of her lap, causing her to laugh again. Of course, she takes her time taking off her shorts and boxers. When she finally does, she strokes the strap a few times, like she can actually feel it. She gives you a pointed look, and you know she’s ready for you to sit down on her. You’re careful, knowing that her strap can be painful; no matter how wet you are. When you finally do, you let out a small gasp. Tears immediately spring to your eyes as you start moving up and down on Abby. She wraps a strong arm around your waist; helping you. You shift and the backend of the strap hits her clit, causing her to moan out.

“Fuck, there y’go, baby. Taking it like a champ.”

The praise makes you move faster. You know that the strap is getting her off too. You fall into her neck and shudder, trying to roll your hips. You can’t deny you’re getting tired though.

“Always make mommy do all the fucking work, hm?” Abby says, catching onto your hints. “That’s okay. Y’know I’ll always take care of you.”

She starts moving your hips and up and down again.

She finds the spot that makes your hips twitch and your breath catch, “Oh, there it is– just needed me to find it, huh?” 

You bob your head up and down; your mouth hangs open. Abby closes it for you, wiping off the small dribble of spit that slipped out.

You feel your head grow fuzzier and fuzzier every time she moves your hips on her cock. You’re practically braindead. From her outfit, to the teasing, and how she wore the fucking strap under her clothes. You knew that you were in for. If you had a thought in your head that wasn’t about Abby’s cock, you’d be worried about how you’re gonna look at the party; how Abby is going to look. There’s no way that there’s not a wet spot on her pants. And you have to put back on your panties, that are soaked, after this. You want to beg her to start the car and take you back home. You want her to fuck you all night long. You feel a tear fall out of your eye and onto Abby’s shoulder.

“Y’cryin, baby?”

“Yeah,” you whine into her neck, the word gets caught up in a moan.

“My poor girl, what’s wrong?” Abby pushes you up so she can see your face. She pouts at you when she sees the tears. Never once does she stop moving your hips on top of hers. I mean– she’s not gonna delay her orgasm just because you’re a crybaby.

“Don’t wanna go to the party. Wanna stay like this forever.”

She tries to quiet a laugh, “I know. Mommy’s cock is so good, huh? Just wanna sit on it for eternity.”

You nod your head sincerely.

“Just focus on cumming, then we can talk about round two, yeah? Go on, rub your clit, sweetheart.”

You do as she says, reaching your hand between your bodies and rubbing the sensitive spot in rhythm with Abby’s movements. 

Obviously this wasn’t enough for her though. Before you know it Abby’s holding your hips off her lap and thrusting the strap into you. You almost cum just thinking about how strong she is. You look over at her arm and watch the muscle bulge as she holds you up into the air. You try to focus on your hand that’s supposed to be rubbing your clit, but you can’t. You press them both onto her chest, trying to feel her tits under the sports bra she’s wearing.

“Oh my god,” you mumble, taking one of your hands and moving the hair off your sweaty forehead. 

The windows were completely fogged. Abby had turned off the car, which meant she turned off the A/C. You don’t even care. At this point, she could fuck you on the side of a busy highway with a state trooper ten feet away, and you would let her.

“You look so pretty right now. So fucking pretty, doll. Gonna make you cum all over my cock.” 

This is how you know the strap is still hitting Abby’s clit– she’s rambling. No matter how cool she tries to act, the second the words start tumbling out of her mouth and she’s letting out low grunts, she’s done for.

You decide to be bold. “Am I making you feel good, mommy?”

She lets out a noise that borders on a growl, “Y’know you are, princess. Just keep being my little fuckdoll and I’ll cum, yeah?”

Her words do more damage to you than yours did to her. You’re a mess again, whimpering and clawing at her arms.

“I know you’re close,” she teases, “Cum for me, mommy’s gonna cum with you.”

With her permission, you let go. You feel yourself fall into her neck, but it feels like slow motion. You think you can actually hear your heart beating. The thick blood pumps inside of your ears, and it takes you a second to realize you’re still in the car, on top of Abby’s strap.

Abby rubs your back as you lay on top of her, pressing a kiss to your forehead a few times. “You’re alright, baby.” She says reassuringly, shushing you when you whine into her.

You sit up. Your brain is still mush– mush enough that you can finally voice your feelings. “I don’t wanna do this… thing anymore.”

Abby’s face goes blank, “Was it bad? Or too much? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to fuck it up. Oh jesus I’m such–”

You cut her off, “No. It was really good. That’s why I wanna date. I don’t wanna just be friends who fuck anymore. I wanna be with you.”

“You wanna be with me because I fucked you in a car in the middle of nowhere?”

You scoff and hit her chest, moving off of her into the passenger seat.

“Come back here,” Abby says. You deny her, pressing your back to the door. Abby grabs your leg instead, massaging the muscles in your calf.

“You really wanna do it?” She asks. “What if it’s weird?” Her face scrunches up.

“I think this is definitely weirder than us dating.”

She laughs and nods her head. She goes to say something, then her phone rings, “Shit, it’s Nora.”

You try to listen to the conversation, but Abby’s phone is turned down, “What’s she saying?” You whisper.

Abby takes the phone off of her ear and puts it on speakerphone. Nora’s voice comes out clear, “Listen, we all know you’re fucking! You’re probably late because you’re fucking! No one cares, just get here.”

Abby goes red and immediately takes the phone off speakerphone. She gives Nora a quick ‘alright’ and hangs up the phone.

“We are not as smooth as we thought we were.” You say, trying to giggle your way through the embarrassment.  

“Well, now we have to tell them we’re dating, so buckle up. And put your panties back on.” Abby says while starting the car. 

“Yes, ma’am.”

[nor-4]

Nsfw Alphabet ft. Mike Schmidt

Bad writing

A = Aftercare

He got everything ready cause this boy don't know how strong he is especially if he fucks his frustration out so he gets every thing ready. He will definitely make you coffee or just get you some water is if you ask, then hug you until you guys fall asleep.

B = Body part

Although he loves every part of your body he has this favoritism for your thighs, like it's multipurpose he can hold it while fucking you on missionary andd can be a pillow when you guys go to picnic!

What he loves for him is his arms like something about it looks attractive for him, probably because you love to hold it and compliment it.

C = Cum

You can't tell me he don't cum a lot. Before bursting his seed he always ask where do you want it. If he's too lazy he'll just cum in your stomach. It's on his system to ask if it's hot or how does his seed feels.

D = Dirty secrets

To my previous headcannon, he wants to fuck the attitude out of you. Like it makes him feel cocky knowing he takes control. He wants to invite you to his work and fuck you in the table he doesn't know why but something about risking it turns him on.

E = Experience

Actually you both lost your virginity to each other. He isn't experienced but he knows everything about sex. He knows how to make you cum easily by just his fingers, this man doesn't joke when it comes to knowledge on sex. He can make your girl cum than your playboy ass

F = Favorite position

He lovesss missionary, he loves to see your face while fucking you. He loves kisses so.. Andd he loves back shot, he wants matching back tattoos with you it turns him on. Something about caressing your back makes him insane.

G = Goofy

Not really he's serious when it comes to making out. But sometimes he cracks a small joke when the mood get so tense up, he love it when he see you chuckle. Come on this man needs happiness in his life let him be.

H = Hair

Not that much hairy but he trims it when he thinks it needs a little bit of cutting. For you well he doesn't care about hair okay, it's natural if you want to keep it okay if your comfortable with it. He loves em bushes bae dw.

I = Intimacy

He loves to grip your hips or waist when he fuck you in missionary. This man fucks like there's no tomorrow he hugs your waist, he loves putting hickeys on you especially your breast. He is sooo good at praising like he coos in your ears on how he much loves you.

J = Jack off

Doesn't really have a time to do it. If he does he just imagines things with you. Just the thought of you turns him on. He does it too when you're not in the mood to do intimate things cause you know he doesn't wanna push you.

K = Kink

He's into edging he love to see you cry just because your orgasm is declined. He also loves size difference he can't believe the strength he has, he can fuck you in the wall nd he is still be surprised.

L = Location

Mostly on his bedroom because abby could be roaming around somewhere, well sometimes if abby's at school he loves to fuck you in the kitchen. He loves to eat you out at the kitchen it hits something for him.

M = Motivation

You. Everything bout you turns him on, especially when you motherly cares for abby. It's awaking something in him. He can be too distracted on his work and still think about fucking you. It's like a daily routine for him when he's bored.

N = No

Something that might hurt you, like he likes rough sex but not that rough like your about to scream from getting hurt. He don't like bdsm something about it turns him off plus he remembers all his trauma yk.

O = Oral

He is more on giving, but he loves to recieve like you giving him head. He still loves it when he is the one giving you head, something about you makes him addicted. Like he wants to drown from your pussy.

P = Pace

He's more on slow and gentle. If he's frustrated he fucks rough. His pace is up to the atmosphere, you have two boyfriend. One who make love to you touching caressing your body and praising you and one is fucking you like an animal. Sometimes he fucks you rough when he wants to sleep tightly.

Q = Quickie

Mehhh he doesn't really like quickie. He wants long sensual make out not like fucking you as if it's the end of the world. Plus it makes him want more.

R = Risk

If you just want it. But seeing someone watching him fuck you turns him on, it's like his adrenaline rush is rising. He just want to take the risk when he feels cocky.

S = Stamina

Can only go to 2 to 3 rounds because he's a beat up minimum wage worker who works 24/7 so he doesn't really have that much energy. But like i said when he's frustrated he can probably go for 5 rounds. If you can handle it.

T = Toys

I dont think he's really up to toys but a vibrator is enough. Since he loves edging he will probably have a vibrator especially those vibrator thay you put in your panty that can be controlled by phone. He will love those.

U = Unfair

He loves it when you beg for him. He can leave you without continuing your orgasm just for you to beg him. Sometimes when he is bored he tends to talk about how you are a mess for him.

V = Volume

He is whiny if you are the one who takes control. He is a bit vocal like he moans, but he often talk about how good you are for him.

W = Wild Card

He wants you to sit on his face. What if you crush him? He will be the happiest man alive. He wants you to dominate him especially when he is a whining mess, he just want to see you being a bossy then be a mess once you ride his dick.

X = X-ray

This man has a fat dick for aroundd 5'8 inches. Pretty pink mushroom tip. He's gifted i wanna rail him.

Z = Zzz

He's not a fast asleep he loves to spend the time with you. He only sleeps when you are already comfortable and clean. If he's tired he will fall asleep fast but he will do something for you tomorrow but tonight hug him to sleep.

[thema-nr-2]

im so sorry if i start spamming you with requests 💔💔 anywaays dom 2010 bill maybe?? with like an f reader you can ddcide like the plot n shit i dont wanna control you 🙏🙏

just you wait til i get you home - b.k

✮ synopsis - you and bill are at dinner with your friends and you take the time to tease him under the table. Pissed off, bill makes you suck him off in the bathroom.

✮ genre - smut

✮ word count - 2.2k

✮ content warning - nsfw, fem!sub!reader, dom!2010!bill, semi public freakiness 👅, slight choking if you squint, praise, oral (m!receiving) cum swallowing idfk, gagging, teasing, bills mad pissed at y/n 😞, use of pet names, let me know if i missed anything

✮ 1 request out of 3 done, thank fuck… 2 more fics coming soon guys trust 😭 (ive already started the 2nd one) bonus points if anyone can recognise the lyrics in the tittle

“Why can’t we just stay inside tonight, Bill? I don’t wanna go out!” You whined as you held up your dress in front of the mirror, debating whether or not to put it on.

“As much as I’d love to, schatz, we were invited to this dinner.” Bill started. “We can’t say no just because we don’t feel like it. That’s not fair on our friends.” Blah blah blah..

“But-“

“No buts, Y/N!”

You slumped down on the edge of the bed and watched as your boyfriend buttoned his shirt up. He didn’t look too keen on going out to dinner either. Reluctantly, you slid out of your comfy pyjamas and put on the dress that you had been so eager to wear. Just not tonight. You admired yourself in the mirror for a minute, checking yourself out. It really was a beautiful dress. And Bill had picked it out just for you. Sleek, black, silk hugged your figure perfectly. It was practically tailored for you. You were under the idea that you could easily distract Bill with just a few touches. And when you looked like that? Surely…

“Wouldn’t it be so much easier if we just… called in sick?“ You began, speaking in a slow tone. You walk up behind Bill, wrapping your arms around his waist and fidgeting with the buttons on his shirt. You started to unbutton them one by one, but unfortunately, Bill wasn’t in the mood to put up with your antics as he pushed your hands right off him.

“Easier, maybe. But that doesn’t mean it’s right. Now hurry up and finish getting ready. We need to be there by 6.”

—

You knew it was risky. A dangerous game to be playing, yet you were willing to risk it all just for the result. But you knew it was over for you once you met Bill's gaze and saw that look his eyes. A look that either said “I’m gonna kill you when we get home” or “I’m gonna ruin you when we get home”. Nonetheless, the thrill had you soaked already.

Bill’s breath hitched in his throat as he felt your hand caress his thigh underneath the table, getting recklessly close to his crotch. He shot you a subtle glare, which only landed him a proud smile from you. Fortunately for him, nobody noticed. Yet. It was your mission to get him as worked up as possible, to the point where he couldn’t contain it and had to get up and leave. (And obviously take you with him)

You spent the evening making pointless conversation with your work friends, small talk about work and how life was going. Really nothing interesting, and the lack of stimuli was driving you insane. You had let Bill eat and talk in peace for about an hour and a half before you began to feel bored again. Both of you had finished your meals so it’s not like you had anything else to do besides tease him again. As you two let out forced laughs at your friend’s unfunny jokes, you subtly placed your hand on his thigh again, rubbing it gently. Bill didn’t seem to take too much notice of it, which was good. It meant you could get away with more, easier. You smirked to yourself as your hand started to palm him through his tight jeans, this was where Bill finally started to notice what you were up to. He turned to you, not with an angry expression but with a confused one. You felt as he started to get hard in your hands, and you continued to palm him, ever so subtly slipping your hand underneath his jeans and rubbing his now slightly clothed dick. Bill let out a cough to cover up the moan he almost let slip, a bit of an unrealistic one unfortunately.

“Fuck’s wrong with you?” A friend asked.

“Nothing. I’m fine.” He said bluntly, never once taking his eyes off you. You simply giggled and continued to rub him over his boxers under the table. Beads of sweat started to form on his brow as it began harder and harder to hide what was going on. He shifted in his seat uncomfortably and covered his mouth, removing himself from the conversation as best he could. Before long, it was too difficult to stay quiet, he had let you get away with too much. Out of nowhere, Bill pulled your hand out of his pants, and stood up.

“I’m not feeling too well, I’m gonna head to the bathroom…” He said, somewhat nonchalantly. Your friends gave him a weird look of disbelief, then they turned to you with the same expression. You watched as Bill walked away. He looked behind him and made direct eye contact with you. Though he didn’t say anything, you could tell he wanted to follow him. And that there’d be bigger problems if you didn’t.

“Uh, I’m gonna go check on him..” You said nervously as you excused yourself from your seat. Your heart was racing as you caught up to Bill, who hadn’t yet entered the bathroom. As soon as you got close enough to him, he seized your wrist tightly and dragged you into a stall, locking the door behind him. Thankfully nobody was in the bathroom at the same time as you guys. Once the door was locked, Bill slammed you up against the bathroom stall door, pinning your hands to each side of your head as his lips attached themselves to your neck. You let out a gasp of pleasure as he began to suck harshly on the sensitive part of your neck. After a minute, he pulled away, admiring the hickies he had left.

“What’s got you so worked up, huh?” You asked sarcastically.

“You think you’re fuckin funny? So fuckin clever?” Bill said, his pent up anger clear in his tone

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You batted your eyelashes innocently at him, hoping to gain some sort of ease.

Bill’s eyes narrowed at you as his hand moved up to wrap gently around your throat. “Don’t play dumb with me, Y/N.” He whispered, his fingers tightening around your throat the more he talked. “You think teasing me back there in front of our friends, and total strangers was funny? Is this all because I wouldn’t let us stay home tonight? I nearly fucking blew it thanks to you.”

Bill pressed his body against you as you tried to squirm free of his grasp. “Stop struggling, slut. You wanted this.” He growled under his breath as he held you firmly in place. Once you had stopped moving, you looked at the floor anxiously, the regret from teasing him already setting in. Bill grabbed your chin and forced you to look up at him. “On your knees. Now.” He ordered. You immediately complied, not wanting to piss him off any more. Bill smirked proudly as he watched you sink to your knees in front of him. You wasted no time to undo his belt and pull his jeans down along with his boxers, where you could see stains of precum. Part of you was rather pleased with how your teasing really did a number on him. Even though you hadn’t done much. You took his cock in your hands, gently kissing the tip while pumping him ever so slightly.

“Think about teasing me for another minute and I swear you’ll regret it.” His words sent shivers down your spine. You trembled beneath him as you finally took him into your mouth, gaining a guttural moan from Bill. He leaned against the stall door, tilting his head back. “Mmm, that’s it, baby. Good girl..” He groaned.

You bobbed your head up and down his dick, slowly building a steady pace. But it seemed like Bill wasn’t having it. He grabbed a fistfull of your hair, turning it into a makeshift ponytail for him to pull your head down. You gagged as you felt his tip reach the back of your throat, and his balls hit your chin slightly. You rested your hands on Bill’s thighs for support, dragging your nails down his pale skin. Even after deepthroating him, Bill didn’t let you go. He kept your hair gripped firmly in his fist, controlling your rhythm completely. You let out a muffled whine as you tried to come up for air, which only gained you a scowl from the man looking down at you.

“Who said you could stop, huh?” He snapped. He raised his eyebrow, waiting for your pathetic response.

“I just-” You stuttered as you began to speak, however you were swiftly cut off by Bill forcing your head back down onto his throbbing dick. It caught you by such surprise, you felt tears piercing the corners of your eyes.

“You’re crying now? I thought you could take it. Aren’t you my good girl?” He queried, raising his eyebrow. You nodded rapidly as you moved your head along with the rhythm Bill had forced upon you. He moaned out soft praises as he felt you swirl your tongue around him, every now and then grazing it over his slit. You felt him twitch in your mouth, his orgasm catching up to him. “Scheiße, liebe..” Bill felt his knees begin to weaken as he got closer. He savoured every second of your warm mouth around his cock, savoured every muffled sob from you, every choked moan.

Tears fell down your cheeks, not only from how much you were trying not to gag, (and failing) but from now hard Bill was pulling on your hair. Your knees began to ache from the cold, hard, bathroom floor. They’d surely be bruised the next morning. And you were sure the floor had torn a small hole in one of your knee high socks. Which was a shame, they were quite pretty.

“Fuck, gonna cum, baby…” Bill moaned, barely getting his words out. “And you better fucking swallow…” You felt the hair on the back of your neck stand at his demand. He was so hot when he was like this. Dominant and commanding. You wished he would be like this more often, even if it meant week long aches in your throat, legs, or back. Bill threw his head back with one final, loud moan as he released his hot cum down your throat. You whined, doing your best not to let a single drop waste. You adored his taste. You swallowed as much of him as you could. After you pulled off his dick, you continued to lick his slit, gathering the rest of his cum. Once you were done you looked up to see your boyfriend's expression of approval.

Bill smiled warmly as he gave you a light pat on the head. “Atta girl.” He praised. “You did so well for me, took my dick so fuckin good.”

You panted heavily, taking in as much air as you could. Bill’s taste lingered in the back of your throat and on your tongue, the last thing you were about to do was complain about that.

Bill reached out a hand to help pull you up. He looked down at your knees and frowned. You were confused about what he seemed so sad about, until you looked down yourself to see the very prominent tear in your right sock. Guess you were right.

“And they were the ones you bought me, too…” You grimaced.

“It’s okay, schatzi, I’ll buy you a new pair. Or you can keep wearing them to remind yourself of what a slut you were for me tonight.” He smirked.

You blushed profusely at his comment, somewhat enjoying that idea.

“Do you think our friends are gonna be suspicious when we go back out…” You reluctantly asked.

Bill sighed, remembering what they were doing in a public bathroom in the first place. He scratched the back of his neck in disappointment. “Yeah, most likely. You got an excuse?”

“To make up for your flushed face and my bruised knees? Not a clue.”

He giggled. Bill led you out of the stall, making sure nobody was lurking. You had a glance at yourself in the mirror, and after seeing the state of disarray your hair was in and about $60 worth of makeup smudged across your face from where you had cried, you realised you two were both definitely fucked.

AHHH i’m sorry this was so ass i’m not used to writing for sub reader 🤧 hopefully it wasn’t gut wrenchingly bad though!! i’m so sorry to keep people who have requested waiting but i’m juggling a lot right now so i haven’t had the time or motivation to do anything productive in the last month 😝😝

[sescoups]

surprise - lee jihoon

masterlist

summary: your boyfriend needs to know how pretty he is, and you can only think of one way to show him

word count: 1.2k

a/n: i blacked out again. idk what happened but i am in love with this man so ig that explains it.

18+, MDNI!! warnings under the cut <3

warnings: oral (m. rec.), deep throating, mentions of penetrative sex, reader is so down bad but so is jihoon so it's doubly gross tbh, lmk if i forgot something!

You’re distracted, to say the least. The worst part is that he isn’t even doing anything particularly seductive, you’re just down atrocious. To you, there’s something about the way Jihoon’s fingers move over the keys as he works on a melody on his midi keyboard, something about the way he taps the drum pads, and when he stretches in his chair you can barely stop yourself from melting into a puddle.

He’s just too pretty, and you can’t let him live without knowing just how much you appreciate his mere existence.

When your knees hit the floor next to his chair, he jumps in his seat. He hadn’t heard you move, and almost forgot you were there. Not really, because how could he - you’re his favorite human to ever walk the earth - but you had definitely not been at the forefront of his mind right then. Your eyes meet his, and he just knows he’s about to be absolutely ruined forever. Again.

With the help of the arm rest, you turn his chair in your direction until you’re settled between his knees. You rest your head on his knee, staring up at him with wide eyes. His beauty will never stop baffling you, you think.

The position you’re in reminds Jihoon of too many similar occasions for him to be able to stop his dick from getting hard, but he suspects that was your plan anyway. Your eyes glisten at him the way they always do when the tip of his cock is kissing the back of your throat, and suddenly, his mouth is dry and his head is empty. Your hand trails up his thigh and he has to shut his eyes to escape the sight of you for a second; otherwise, he fears he may combust.

Your hand comes into contact with the bulge straining against the front of his basketball shorts, and a hum leaves your throat. You don’t mean for it to happen, it just does. Maybe it’s because you can’t help but think of how he can ruin you with it, or maybe you just sincerely feel like his pleasure is yours, too. It doesn’t really matter. As the nails on your left hand scratch against the skin of his right thigh, your right hand is teasing at the waistband of his shorts. You blink up at him, waiting for any indication (other than his erection) that he wants this and you’re allowed to keep going. Consent is sexy.

“Please,” he breathes, and who are you to deny him?

You lower his shorts as well as you can while he’s sitting in his desk chair, and he lifts his hips to help you out. His boxers come off with them, and you come face to face with one of your favorite parts of your boyfriend’s body. He takes his shirt off, too, because wearing only that is weird to him. You couldn’t care less, distracted as you are.

While yes, your underwear is absolutely ruined at this point, you’re not after stimulation for yourself. Your only goal is to swallow Jihoon’s dick whole and swallow every drop he gives you so he can get back to work. You don’t even think about teasing him and simply grip him with one hand, stroking a few times while you watch his face slacken in pleasure.

Once his hips start lifting of their own volition you can’t hold back any longer, so you put his tip in your mouth and suck gently. A punched out breath leaves him from above you, and you meet his eyes briefly before his roll to the back of his skull. Your lips twitch around his shaft before you sink deeper, starting a slow bob up and down.

Some days, he prefers for you to go fast; others, he just wants to feel your every movement, the drag of your lips against his skin driving him insane. Today, he’s torn. He wants to cum so bad, your sweatpants and messy bun combo wreaking havoc in his mind, but the sensation of your tongue against his shaft is too good to pass up. His skin feels like it’s burning, and while he can’t see the flush spreading down his neck and onto his chest, you sure can.

“Fuck, you’re so good to me, darlin’,” he mutters out, his thighs trembling from the pleasure. You swallow around him in response, and his hips force him deeper into your throat.

Where he isn’t the longest, he’s thick. Your lips are straining around him, as is your throat. You think it must be the best feeling in the world to be choking on his fat dick, jaw aching and drool spilling out through the corners of your mouth. Jihoon appreciates the view just as much. Too much, maybe.

“Baby, baby, I can’t, I need to- I’m- please,” he ends up wheezing.

You hum around him and sink down the rest of the way, letting your nose get buried in his pubic hair. You stay still for a moment and swallow again, and then he’s gripping his chair for dear life as he spills himself directly down your throat. He’s convinced that he’s going to grip your hair so hard it will hurt you if he doesn’t keep his grip on the chair, but he wants to touch you so bad, wants to let you know that you bring him more pleasure than he’s ever felt in his life.

As soon as he’s finished, you’re pulling back to suck in a deep breath. His body has gone limp against the chair, a thin layer of sweat having materialized on his skin mere minutes after you started. His chest is rising and falling fast, and that glorious flush is still gracing his neck and chest. He looks so pretty you can’t help but lean in and suckle gently on his tip again, only to be swiftly rebuffed.

“If you think I have anything left to give you right now, you’re insane.”

You laugh and wipe around your mouth, licking your lips. Your boyfriend is still reeling, convinced he’s dreaming or hallucinating or something, because there is no way this is real. The constant white noise that occupies his head is quiet, and in its place is you. He’s still not sure if he should just take you home, fuck you like you deserve and then fall asleep or write you a song, because he’s honestly extremely inspired right now.

While he’s zoned out, you stand up and move back to the couch. Your knees crack as you go, but you don’t even wince; you have no complaints about what just happened, and you will gladly wait a few more hours to go home with your lover. You’re pulled away from your phone before you’ve even properly unlocked it and pulled into a slow, passionate kiss by the man of your dreams. You hum against his lips, and he groans at the taste of his own release tainting your lips and mouth.

“I think,” he mumbles, hand carding through your hair and gripping it tightly, “that we need to go home. Right now.”

Once again, who are you to deny him?

a/n: if you liked this post, please remember to like and reblog! thank you <3

[adventuringblind]

Any chance you could do Lando x AUDHD (Autism&ADHD) reader?? Either just him or poly with Oscar, maybe Oscar try a keep them both in line??

The Responsible One

Landoscar x Reader

Summary: Oscar reflects back on the chaotic duo he has for partners

Warnings: none :)

Notes: Lando is ADHD coded... change my mind, I dare you. Also, a life update for you all! I know things have slowed down, but I am still writing! I've been working my ass off and getting ready to start my masters program, so life has been insane. Thank you all for the continued support! ❤️

Masterlist

It certainly wasn't anything new to Oscar, having to manage both Lando and their girlfriend. The chaos they bring with every footstep is insane, but he loves them both dearly.

One time, he found them deep in a conversation about the difference between chocolate and vanilla. Sometimes, he gets absoloute silence only to be interrupted by Lando's strange thoughts that he just needs to say.

Don't get him started on taking them anywhere out to eat. He hates anything to do with it because both of them have differening food sensory issues. It's a pain to get them to agree on anything.

His favorite moments are when both of them are incredibly clingy. It's like being suffocated with hugs, kisses, and cuddles. It's an amazing way to die if you ask him.

He once had to run around looking for them because neither was getting back to him. Turns out they were asleep on the floor together. Blankets tangled with their limbs. Rain sounds playing from somebody's phone. They looked so cute and peaceful, and Oscar does love to sleep. So the Australian joined them in their huddle on the floor.

Speaking of the floor: why are they both obsessed with it? He can't tell you exactly why, but they both love it. Floor time is an essential part of their day that Oscar has adapted to. When Kim started finding him on the floor, he laughed and said, "Oscar! They got you, too!" Apparently, Max also likes the floor because of them. Then Charles started because of Max. The domino effect her supposes.

The one thing he spends most of his time trying to figure out is volume. Specifically why Lando can be quite on second and not the next. It's a jump from word to word sometimes. Whereas the female is so random, he can't predict it. He wouldn't mind it, except for when they set each other off, and then she gets overstimulated. Lando feels so bad that he has to apologize at the end of every sentence for the rest of the day.

He spends many hours trying to soothe both of them. He knows, however, that's at the end, he will be treated to comfort food and a movie. Not because he needs it neccecarily, but because the other two do, and he gets to reap the benefits.

Humor and jokes with the two are his favorite. One of them is blunt, and she loves to tell people like it is. She has no filter really and is a deadpan like Oscar himself. The other can't lie to save his life but tries. He lacks a filter in such a strange way that really Oscar never knows what he's going to say. Oscar is constantly having to hold in his laughs.

They both talk his ear off about random information about the things they love, but he could listen to them all day. They get overstimulated and need breaks. But he's happy to provide a safe space. They cuddle and hug and cling to each other, but he basks in it.

They love him unconditionally, including him. They make him feel wanted.

And it doesn't matter him to him how many people ask him why, or how many tell him they are too chaotic. He could care less. He loves them because they are the definition of distraction walking around as humans.

They are his chaos. He doesn't mind being the responsible one if he gets to keep laying on the floor listening to their ramblings.

And what can he say? It's fun to watch them be brutally honest with people.

[ohposhers]

its come to my attention that i have way too many things im trying to work on at once and i get so completely distracted and side tracked constantly from everything so im never consistent with what i post and its bananas and on top of all of it im insanely preoccupied with getting all my owed work stuff done right now so progress on everything else isss so slow and im so sorry guys BUT once i can get all my work stuff taken care of i'll be able to make more cringe nae nae trolls content with a guilt free conscience so bare with me fellas im especially excited to finally share the really stupid Rockopalypse AU cause ive literally been sitting on it for months but couldnt post it cause there's like one more thing I need to finish for it augg soon soon anyway i felt like i just needed to apologize for the slowness on the content rn and for the next little bit </3 tysm for all the support as always guys this is the most fun ive had with a fandom in a long time

[harmonic-intervention]

Please find me, I'm hungry

Well.

Tommy has a tramp stamp now. Buck kinda goes insane over it.

We're past the fix-its! Have some smut instead! This is the complete version of this post. Moving further in my mission to give Tommy things I think are hot - like eyebrow scars and tramp stamps. Have fun.

Word count: 13,147 - PWP, tattoos, dom/sub undertones, possessive behavior, cum play

Excerpt:

When they got back together, Hen, with a sly little grin, had teased Buck about them being all over each other. Buck had rolled his eyes, dropped his head, and knocked his knuckles into her shoulder. He got razzed all day by the others, because yeah, he and Tommy had a pretty active sex life before, and Buck had come into work with hickeys on his throat more than once.

Only it was different this time. They’d decided to take their time, and work their way up again. Buck was too giddy about holding Tommy’s hand again, he didn’t think he could handle anything more.

They did dates, and dinners, and hang outs. They didn’t even sleep over at each other’s places when they met up there. When they kissed, they kept it strictly above the waist.

His friends would never believe him if he told them. Hell, Buck wouldn’t have believed himself a couple of months ago! But all in all, Buck didn’t mind this. They had agreed to slow it down, not to rush ahead like they did the last time, where they’d skipped so many steps. It was nice, actually, really nice to do it like this.

Buck found out more and more about Tommy, saw things Tommy hadn’t shown anyone before, and he only loved Tommy more for it.

They navigated through their re-budding relationship, and Buck had never been this happy before in his life. And things were moving, steadily, felt so natural and easy in a way Buck had never thought it could. Even the harder conversations they finally had with each other seemed easy, their words flowing and miscommunication left behind.

Slowly, they made their ways through the stages and bases. Touching above clothes, getting below the belt. Tommy didn’t take his shirt off around Buck, and Buck would admit that was surprising. Tommy really didn’t have any qualms showing off, at least he hadn’t used to.

But then things got a bit suspicious when Buck noticed that Tommy didn’t seem to like him touching the small of his back all of a sudden. He was subtle about it, Buck had to admit. Like when he put his hand there, Tommy took his wrist and pushed it further down, and Buck was always up for that. Tommy had a great ass. But he also had a really nice back, and Buck liked pushing his hands under his shirt and trace along the line of his spine, and after the fourth time that Tommy shied away from the touch, Buck finally voiced his suspicions.

“Are you okay?” he asked, taking a step back from the kiss they had shared in his kitchen.

Tommy looked a little dazed, and okay, maybe it’d been more than just one kiss. Maybe it was more, maybe Buck had pushed Tommy up against the counter and thought about how he could convince him to climb up so Buck could stand between his legs, feel the insides of his thigh press against his hips.

“What?” Tommy asked, and Buck, for a moment, got distracted by how red and full and spit-slick his mouth was.

“Don’t you- you don’t want me touching your back? That’s okay, but is everything alright? Did you get hurt?” Buck got momentarily worried. He hadn’t thought about that. But they had agreed to be honest with each other, so if he was doing something that hurt Tommy, he needed to know. If Tommy had gotten hurt, he needed to know.

There was a blush high on Tommy’s cheeks when he shook his head. “Uh, no, I’m good. Not hurt.”

Which was a relief. “Then what’s going on? Is this a new thing? If you don’t want me to touch you there, that’s fine, but- it wasn’t a problem before, right? Did you not like it?”

“God, baby, calm down,” Tommy said with a slight laugh. “No, I liked it fine. But, uh … something changed.”

Buck furrowed his brows. “Like what?”

If anything, Tommy blushed harder. He pushed off the counter, made Buck take a couple steps back. He put his hands on the collar of his shirt as if to pull it up, but before he did that, he locked eyes with Buck.

“Okay, but you have to promise not to laugh.”

“O-okay, I-uh, I promise?” Buck said, but it came out more like a question.

It seemed to be good enough for Tommy who pulled the shirt over his head, and Buck would be lying if he didn’t immediately try to look his fill. It had been a while since he’d seen Tommy shirtless. And God, those pecs, the hair between them, that fucking happy trail …

Then, Tommy turned around, and Buck’s mouth dropped open. He blinked, stared, tried to form words. He felt frozen, because he had not expected this, because well.

Well.

Tommy had a tramp stamp.

[continue on ao3]

[bg-brainrot]

The Night They Slept Together

Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav

Series: Fits into Love at First Knife, AO3 link here

Summary: Tav pines, and their relationship with Astarion shifts ever so slightly. (They literally do just sleep)

Tags: 2nd person POV, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Pining, light hurt and angst, Astarion is Bad at Feelings, coping with feelings, act 2, pre-confession

A/N: some light angst as Tav comes to term with their feelings but we already know where they end up, so it's okay, right? :D

Word count: ~2.1k

--

Your tryst with Astarion should be over by now.

It was supposed to be a one off moment of passion, a way to destress after all of the danger you’d thrown yourselves into. He’d asked so easily, you’d agreed just as readily– a quick celebratory moment after defeating that goblin camp, when your spirits and libido were running high.

The second time? Well, that was easy to write off as well. You’d just fought off an entire creche, moving through it like a pair of practiced assassins, a synchrony you haven’t felt since– well, you’re not certainly you’ve ever felt so in sync with someone. Either way, it was another easy nod to his sly, questioning look. 

You’d had similar excuses for your first night in the Shadow-Cursed Lands, for the handful of midday, afternoon, midnight romps since.

It’s just a way for us to cope with the situation at hand, nothing more, nothing less, you’d told yourself.

That is, until you’d realized that it wasn’t just that. Not to you. 

Oh gods, I love this insane vampire.

The night you’d realized that everything had changed.

What had begun as a distraction for you both, had turned into a poison– one slowly working its way through your system, incapacitating you piece by piece at the thought of another night falling into his arms, sinking deeper into the throes of an impossible love. 

After all, what is this other than convenient? And if you continued to be a mere convenience to him, well, you doubt that this would end well for you. It’s high time that you cut off the source of this poison before it festers too far. Before it grips your vulnerable, aching heart.

That’s what you’d told yourself, but you’re finding it so much harder to cut off the source when he’s standing right in front of you, waiting for you with a smirk toying along the edge of his mouth, an eyebrow raising suggestively as his voice lowers to a sultry invitation. 

You’d come by his tent to say goodnight. Maybe, ‘Good job today.’ Any excuse to see him really, but now you’re met with a challenge.

Astarion’s words don’t make it much easier either.

“Oh my dear, you look positively wound-up after today’s bouts. Care for a little… unwinding?”

His voice drips with promise, with want, with a feeling that echoes through your own traitorous core. But, like a sweet that’s overstayed its welcome, it seems too tacky, hardening into something utterly indigestible.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” you ask, eying him carefully, fighting down your own building desires.

“Why shouldn’t it be?” he asks, a raised brow lowering in uncertainty. 

You hesitate, unsure how much truth you’re willing to part with. Certainly not, ‘Because I may have accidentally fallen in love with you.’ And you don’t want to shove him out of your life unceremoniously either. Just… to slow down, allow your heart time to adjust– to get over him, if need be.

After a pause that goes on for a second too long, you finally settle on, “It just seems as if we’ve already had plenty of ‘fun’, don’t you think?”

Astarion’s small smirk drops, a dark look entering his eyes as he registers your words, how they directly counter his own from your first night together. How they fall between you with the full weight of rejection. “Don’t tell me you’ve grown shy now, darling?” he says, voice a bit sharper than what you’re used to.

You’d known that trying to slow down wouldn’t be easy, but his downturned lips make you want to take back your words, dive back into the intoxicating miasma of his cold embrace. But you also know that if you don’t stand your ground now, you’re liable to fall too far too fast.

“Not shy per say,” you respond, measuring your words carefully. “Merely wondering if that’s what you want.”

Astarion seems no more placated by these words than your earlier ones. “And what makes you think I wouldn’t want this?”

Fear born of your heart, insecurity born of your nerves, damned logic born of your head– there are really so many reasons he wouldn’t want this, wouldn’t want you. But you don’t want to be too transparent, not when this adventure could all be over very soon. You say as much.

“Well, our days could be numbered.” Then your lips continue. “Perhaps there is someone else you would rather be unwinding?” The question slips out of you, an unbidden, unwelcome concern courtesy of the fear building in your chest.

“Is that what you want?” he asks, response quick, tone biting. His lips are pressed in a tight line, the muscles in his neck tense as he clenches his jaw.

Gods, you’d known your heart would lead you astray. Here you are, facing an Astarion unlike any that had made a home in your bedroll. An Astarion made of sharp edges and cutting words. Expression closed, mouth a tight line, you find his change in demeanor aggravating. You bristle at his accusation. “No, Astarion. I don’t want that. If I did, I wouldn’t be here, speaking with you. Though you’re making me regret doing that much now.”

He tilts back at your words, leaning back on the heels of his feet as if thrown off balance. “Then why did you even come over? To reject me then to–to taunt me?”

You had meant to do none of that. Really, you’d only come over out of habit, to see him, to… spend time with him. But it’s hard to say so without being entirely too forthcoming with your feelings. You wish that you could put your feelings into words, however it’s your burden to bear, not his. He has more than enough on his plate between the Absolute and Raphael’s deal. 

So you shake your head at him. “I didn’t mean to reject you, Astarion. I hadn’t come here for sex at all.”

Once more, he asks the question you do not want to answer. “Then why did you even come over?”

You could lie. It’s as easy as breathing for you– it’s how you and Astarion had grown so close so quickly. You should lie, you tell yourself. But one look into his crimson, pleading eyes and the lie dies on your lips.

He looks hurt. So genuinely confused at your presence in front of him, deeply convinced that you could only be here for one thing and one thing only. And you know then that you can’t lie.

“I wanted to see you,” you say, the honest words tightening your throat on their way out, You haven’t told him how you feel, but you may as well have, with the way the words sound utterly, sinfully soft, a secret lost on the cold wind of the Shadow-Cursed night.

“You… wanted to see me?” he repeats, tone losing all of its edge, losing any of its structure at all.

You nod silently, uncertain if more words would help or hurt the situation.

To that, Astarion only blinks. His mouth opens, head tilting in that cautiously inquisitorial way, as he asks, “And then what?”

There was no ‘and then’ in your mind. Merely the need to see him, spend time with him, even after spending an entire dark, dreary day with him. But you suppose he wouldn’t understand that if you said it. So you need to come up with something concrete, a reason to be here beyond words…

“I was wondering if you wanted to share a bedroll tonight. To sleep,” you say, infusing enough confidence in your words that you can hardly note the nerves. You expect Astarion wouldn’t notice them at all. 

His defenses noticeably drop, his shoulders sagging in relief, and a sigh escapes him as he shakes his head at you wryly. “Well, why didn’t you just say so, darling? I understand that not everyone has my stamina, but it’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

You want to roll your eyes, defend your honor as it hangs on by a thread, but you’ve narrowly avoided disaster and you’re not proud enough to ruin that. Instead you play into the role, ignoring the dull twinge that twists through your heart. “I wasn’t sure you would be so magnanimous,” you say, giving him the slightest bow of your head. “I should have known.”

“That you should have,” he says with a breathy laugh and he sounds almost… relieved?

More than anything, you want to ask him, why? Are you relieved that my feelings have stayed silent? That this thing between us remains uncomplicated? That you don’t have to find yourself a new distraction?

But your questions stay just as buried as your feelings do.

Your damnable feelings, which seem to threaten to burst out each time his eyes linger too long, with every touch you weren’t expecting. It must be a talent, holding them in as you do now.

They stay hidden as he extends a hand to you, inviting you into his tent with a warm smile and a, “Shall we?”

You keep them dormant as you follow, tucking your head into the now-familiar red structure, narrowly avoiding the mess he’s left inside. 

They almost slip to the surface as he pulls you down onto his lap, and a heat rises between you as natural as steam from a hot spring.

It’s an invitation, of course. One last effort from Astarion for something more tonight, for you to be won over by his beauty and charm. But there’s nothing to be won over because you are already his.

You wish he could tell, from your drunken declarations, from the way you’ve made a second home in his arms. Maybe he can tell, but refuses to acknowledge it– you could hardly blame him if that were to be the case. But you also can’t blame yourself for barely holding back.

Even now, seated in his lap, staring into his mesmerizing red eyes, you’re not certain you could trust a single word that comes out of your lips. So you throw every word you’ve ever known, could ever know, to the wayside. And simply kiss him.

You press your lips to his slowly, contact feather-light as you balance on his thighs. Bracing yourself with a hand on his chest, you lean in, locking your lips together fully. 

They move together easily, dance partners on a familiar dance floor, to a practiced tune, but when you think of all of the things you wish you could say, an urgency rises in you– a deep-seated need to tell him how you feel, even if only through this.

So you kiss him harder, your hands holding him all the tighter. You kiss him with every word unspoken, every intangible feeling rising in your chest, every single ounce of you that he’s already won, if only he were willing to claim it.

Astarion moves to deepen the kiss, placing a hand on the back of your head, the other on the small of your back, not understanding where your desperation comes from. Misunderstanding your intent altogether. 

Of course, what was I thinking? you wonder to yourself as you pull away, panting lightly. That some magical kiss could make this man realize my feelings, could make him love me back?

But you’re not in some copper novel. This man harbors no hidden feelings for you. Only a deep need to lose himself, and you happen to be the person he’s chosen to do that with.

So, despite the confusion in his face, you crawl off of his lap. Despite the way his hand trails along your side as you lay down, you don’t get back up. You merely say, “It’s getting late, we should get some rest.”

Astarion murmurs his agreement, but you can hear the reluctance in his tone, see the bewildered expression on his face as he lies down, all of his clothing still covering his body. 

You could laugh at the absurdity of it all, how unnerved he is, how deeply your chest aches– gods, this didn’t go well at all. But you don’t laugh. Only a sigh escapes you as you wrap your arms around him, as you press your body to his with all of the affection you cannot contain.

His arms stumble, they falter, but they find their way around you as well. An awkward embrace from a man who has no clue how he’s arrived at this point.

It’s difficult at a moment like this to remember that you shouldn’t love this man. That there are a dozen reasons to tamp down your feelings, a dozen more to run away. This was never supposed to be more than a single night of fun.

But, face tucked into the crook of his neck, hands clutching his loose shirt, nose filled with his carefully curated scent– you can almost pretend that this is real.

[soobadnoonecanstopher]

Rat Bastard - Part 8

Pairing: You x Kyungsoo 

Rating: M (Mature)

Word Count: 10k

Warnings: There were too many beds, Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Idiots to Lovers, Giggles, Alcohol Consumption, Some Angst

Tag: @ilovemyapopbaby

Links: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9

There was something so weirdly liberating about showering naked. I know, I know, that’s how people do it, but listen, taking a shower, a genuine one, a real one with plenty of soap and shampoo and a razor and some gentle exfoliating and then with nicely scented lotion spread all over your skin -- all without the worry of someone walking in on you? You felt kind of as if you had died and gone to heaven. This heaven had warm water and it cascaded down your spine and washed away nearly every bit of tension you had felt in your body only moments before. Nearly.

It wasn’t as if the possibility of him walking in here and witnessing you in the shower was entirely gone, but you knew he wouldn’t. You knew, deep down inside where you knew all of the facts about all of the things you knew, you knew that he absolutely would not dare. He had made some silly rule with himself about not having sex without being in a committed relationship and unless he was about to walk into this bathroom and have his way with you, which he wasn’t, then you knew you were unequivocally, entirely, completely alone in here to do whatever it was you needed to do. 

And you had to, that man had gotten you so worked up you couldn’t even lather your skin up without feeling the need for some sort of a release -- you felt the need deep down inside of your abdomen, deep inside of your veins, deep inside of your bones. You couldn’t even remember a time when another human being had left you in such a state. 

The release you sought came to you too quickly. You longed for the clarity of mind that would follow but even after, even actual minutes after, you could still feel that unimaginable longing whenever you remembered the way he kissed you. 

Again and again, his face slipped into your mind. His lips, his tongue, his teeth, and the things he did to you with them. His chin resting just over your belly button, his nose that nuzzled into you, the long and deep inhales he took of you, the hot breaths that flooded, and his eyes, his fucking eyes, his eyes that looked at you but felt like they did so much more than just look; his eyes that took the air straight from your lungs, his eyes that inundated and flooded, destroyed and rebirthed. You felt absolutely insane. He hadn’t even fucked you and you felt absolutely insane. 

The reflection of yourself in the aged, clouded-over mirror had you looking positively glowing. You looked radiant all clean and smooth and naked and the flush you saw in your skin, particularly the natural rose color in your face had you giggling like a mad-woman all by your lonesome. 

He would be cooking dinner for you. Would he be starting it already? You absentmindedly wondered about the timing of it all. You had no idea what he would be making; you weren’t even sure if you’d really be able to taste anything as distracted as your mind felt. But you were going to eat it all because he was making it for you.

Him. He. That soft and kind, sort of, that charming and funny, kind of, the gentle and not at all supercritical or hypersensitive, the itty bitty tiny bit of a rat, even less of a bastard, your sweetest, most infuriatingly competitive, probably a work-a-holic, very likely sarcastic to a fault, the conservative and traditional man who -- maybe, hopefully, God you were praying right now, a man who believed in equality for both sexes and even maybe, Dear Baby Jesus please let him also believe in a woman’s right to make decisions for her own body -- Oh God you had to stop --

Him. Kyungsoo. Doh Kyungsoo -- your Darling? Ehh. Your Pookie maybe? Your sweet baboo? Little cinnamon roll baby wrapped up tight in mama’s swaddling cloth, Jesus Christ. Maybe not that far. Maybe it wasn’t an orgasm that you needed but a tranquilizer. 

Your…something. Yours? Well, he was something. You knew that for a fact, at least. 

That man was certainly something. The jury was still out on literally all of the rest of it.

So you were clean and you felt pretty. You had slipped on the plainest underwear and bra you happened to bring along with you. It wasn’t as if that man would be seeing any of it, and you weren’t doing it in the way that one would wash their car knowing it would increase the chances of rain that day. You were certain in the way he had resisted the sex with you in the most ironclad of ways, despite his body being ready, despite your body being ready and willing, this man was not going to see your underwear. You were also not going to pressure him into anything either. You put on the comfy set. They were for you only. 

Your dinner wear was another story. This was your first real date with Kyungsoo. You should look the part.

You’d packed two evening dresses for this trip and your favorite was a sexy little cocktail dress that fit you like a glove. It had the perfect neckline that complimented your rack. It had a silhouette that made you look at least five times hotter than you thought you actually might be and it had, above all else, a skirt that was too difficult to accidentally push up any higher than mid-thigh. No, no. This was the kind of dress that required complete removal for sexy times. If you were removing it alone, or putting it on as you were right now, it required near-contortionist-level skills to get the zipper up all the way, and taking it off required equal effort. There would be plenty of grunting, some embarrassing moans, and lots of huffing and puffing. All sounds that did not invite sex, well, not unless they were happening during, which they would not be. There would be no accidental oops my dress slipped up too high, oops this counter top is just perfect for my thighs to part and for your hips to slip, and oops there’s a penis inside of me. No. None of those shenanigans would happen in this dress. This dress would be your chastity belt. You would not let him down. Also, it was red. 

Your two-hour respite back to the bunks to shower and lie down turned into a shower, shave, moisturize, fragrance, then dress, coif, preen, pluck, and make-up session, and after settling on a soft and delicate make-up look as opposed to, say, a sexy, fierce look, mostly because you were running out of time and also you figured it was probably best to keep yourself far away from the dominatrix end of the spectrum for the sake of everyone involved. You did not once lie down, as you had so promised you would. You felt entirely too wound up for any sort of lengthy pauses that might lead to lengthy daydreams. 

You were out the door nearly exactly 2 hours from the moment you had stepped inside and you found yourself creeping as silently as the heels allowed down the dark hallway toward that blue door, placing a now, nervous and somewhat trembling hand on the doorknob lightly as you suddenly contemplated every single choice you had made back in front of that bathroom mirror. 

What if you were overdressed? You knew you’d be overdressed, this was a cocktail dress without a cocktail party in sight. This was a cobweb-covered, dusty, and dank emergency storm shelter at least 200 years past its heyday. You’d already done the makeup though. You'd already done the hair and you’d even spritzed the faintest of spritzes of your favorite scent in tiny, inoffensive spots like your inner wrists, directly behind your earlobes without overpowering your neck too much, and the tiniest dab between your breasts. 

What if you were too early? What if his 2-hour time frame wasn’t an exact science? Would you wander in there and interrupt his cooking too soon, fluster him, and make him drop a saute pan or burn a flatbread? Would your arrival at the 2-hour mark down to the second freak him out somehow?

Did men find extreme punctuality in a woman attractive or off putting? You wished you had your phone on you for a quick reddit search. 

You removed your hand from the door knob and you crossed your hands behind your back, taking a step backward and rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet. You should give it a few minutes. You were counting inside of your head now, doing little head nods as you counted. Five minutes should be plenty. You didn’t want to seem too eager. Maybe you should give it ten. Ten minutes could be the new 15-minute buffer most people factored into their daily schedules when figuring out what time to leave for an appointment in the morning. 

You’d lost count of the seconds after a few rounds of 60 and you had to start all over around the four-minute mark. 

At maybe eight minutes you put your hand on the doorknob again, just holding onto it lightly and counting inside your head like a weirdo, and forty seconds into the ninth minute you heard a shuffling sound on the other side of the door a second before you felt that doorknob turning in your hand. 

You gasped out loud in surprise as the door swung open and nearly hit you and there was a similar gasping sound that came from the other side of the door as someone quickly stopped its forward motion with a hand gripped tightly around the edge of the solid metal door. 

His head peaked around the side and you quickly closed up your gaping mouth, doing your best to hide the surprised look in your eyes.

“Oh,” Kyungsoo said, “here you are.” 

You pulled your lips into a smile that probably looked too tense and it took only a few moments for your gaze to wander a bit over him. He had changed. He had done his hair in some sort of inhumanely attractive upward and back hairstyle with some light product and he was wearing a pretty navy blue color that complemented his skin. The shorts and plain t-shirt were gone and he was wearing jeans and Converse on his feet that looked so effortlessly cool with the outfit you were certain he’d walked out of one of your dreams featuring the sexy boy next door who had stolen your heart. 

“I was going to come and look for you,” he said softly and you widened your eyes some, waving them around the space in front of you that you occupied with a change of the smile on your face. His focus was on your face at first and you knew you had to respond to him. 

“You found me,” you said with just a little bit more embarrassment than you would have liked. You had to pull your lips in between your teeth to conceal the nervous perma-smile and you caught the light drift of his eyes as he noticed the effort you’d put into your look tonight.  

You got a straightening of his shoulders and a hardly concealed throat clearing. He was blinking, swallowing, and his face lifted, not quite pulling his eyes all the way away from you in this dress. 

“W-Wow, uhh--,” he bit down on the inside of his lip as he stepped aside at last to allow you enough room to enter this kitchen without brushing up against the length of his body as you did it. “S-Sorry, I only packed jeans. You look,” He was nodding once, then twice and you felt suddenly too nervous for this talk, “beautiful,” he whispered at last, finishing his compliment so you could finally nod your head, so you could finally let out the smile you’d been fighting the whole time, so you could open your own lips to speak. 

You used your hands, lightly waving them over the length of him without touching him anywhere, of course.

“I like the jeans. And the hair. And the shirt. And the shoes. You’ve got a real ‘college heartthrob that all the girls are not-so-secretly in love with,’ you know, ‘rolled-up notes slipped into your locker from many secret admirers,’ and, ‘nasty fights in the girl’s bathroom because they all want you but your true love is music,’ kind of thing going on,” you said with a lift of an eyebrow and a playfulness in your voice that happened sometimes when you were really flustered and trying to fill in any potential silence with ridiculous nervous chatter. 

Of course, saying way too much as usual; you could not help the word vomit. You were too nervous and not really able to fully look at him despite the vivid imaginary story you’d just attached to the outfit he was wearing. Instead, you wandered through the space, busying yourself with looking around the kitchen that it seemed he had cleared out some. The mattresses were all gone. There went yet another surface for the sex that would not happen. 

The lights were different, some of the switches on the wall were off and you saw that he’d set up about as good a table setting as he could with the limited supplies in this place. There was a tablecloth, which you thought might be a flat sheet from one of the bunk beds, there were two place settings with wine glasses and cutlery and you could even hear the faint notes of some classical music playing from somewhere in the kitchen. 

He had been silently following you through the journey and when you’d finally worked up any real nerve and risked a look over at him, he was leaning ever so slightly against the countertop with both of his hands laid flat on its surface. His eyes were closed up and he wore on his face the smallest, nearly imperceivable smile that, had you not had the last 48 hours or so’s worth of direct observation of this man’s face, you might have missed. When he lifted his head, there was an inhale and he brought his focus up and around the ceiling above his head once before all of that trapped oxygen slowly exited through his mouth. 

“Umm,” he said, “Thanks.” His eyes touched yours for a tenth of a second. “I think,” he squinted his eyes, lifted a hand lightly, and waved his rounded fingertips in the air for a moment, “I think -- that was a compliment, right? Not just a made-for-TV movie you were writing just now?” He was nervous. You could see it in the pinkness in his cheeks and the way his eyes refused to sink down into yours for longer than it took to keep track of your location. 

His nerves brought a smile to your face and you laughed lightly and covered your mouth with your fingertips, “Yes,” you nodded. “Yes, it’s a compliment. You look nice. Very nice.”

You could hear the nerves in your response and like a gentleman, so very unlike himself actually, he did not call attention to it. Instead, he spun on his feet and headed toward the fridge to pull out a bottle of wine. He was fumbling with the foil on top and he was digging through a drawer for the corkscrew and speaking rather quickly at the same time. “Do you want a drink? I think we should both have a drink.” And you’d never seen someone make such quick work of one of those stubborn contraptions. 

You were nodding, because, yes please, and thank God. You were moving to the table to grab both of the wine glasses and he was meeting you halfway with the open bottle poised and ready to pour you giggled just a little bit when his flighty eyes touched yours and he giggled just a little bit too. He poured each of the glasses halfway full with the dark red liquid. The bottle was set down with a thud and his fingertips brushed lightly against yours when he grabbed one of the glasses, and to your absolute devastation, the most beautiful and disarming smile landed lightly on his face when you gave his glass the smallest clink with a tip of your own. 

“Should we toast?” you lifted your eyebrows with the echo of the clink still hovering in the air and his glass was already touching his bottom lip. He pulled it away for a second and his eyes were wider now. 

“I -- uhh, kind of just want to drink it,” his smile returned and you laughed out loud placing a hand on his arm to keep him from lifting it any closer to his lips. 

“Fine, say something,” he caved and his glass was back down closer to your lifted one. 

“Well now I can't think of anything,” you frowned and his lips closed up, a ripple of movement flowed through his face but you were thinking hard, trying to find something fitting to say in this situation. He waited patiently and when you gasped and smiled his eyebrows lifted expectantly. 

“Oh, I got it,” you lifted the glass with a renewed confidence in your voice, “To ‘No Sex Tonight,’” you said with a wide smile, and his eyes with lifted eyebrows above them widened even further. He was pulling his lips in between his teeth, biting lightly, and making no effort to toast with you. He wasn’t opening his mouth to say the toast. You leaned your glass into his and lifted your head, shaking it and wiggling your eyebrows just a little so he could say it too. 

“To--,” you began again, encouraging him to say the toast. 

“To No Sex,” he said with his eyes slipping away from your face as he glanced around the room.

“Tonight,” you added and you clinked the glasses together again, making the satisfying sound and ignoring the fact that he didn’t say the last word of your toast out loud but you did take his mouthing the word ‘tonight’ as acceptable behavior. 

His glass was lifted and he was draining the contents, lifting his palm to rub over the surface of his lips when was finished swallowing you took a pretty good bit of your wine into your mouth and swallowed it down, using your tongue to catch any drops of the red that may have remained. 

You’d smelled the food when you first came in. With the taste of this wine on your tongue though your nose was picking up on something that you thought might pair very well with this choice. The more you could smell the hungrier you felt. 

“It smells delicious in here.” 

“Oh, it’s ready if we are,” He set his glass down and rounded the kitchen counter to move toward the stove which had lights on it to indicate that something was still hot and bubbling in the various pots and pans you could see. 

“You can,” he had begun to grab the handles of the pans but quickly left them behind to return to where you leaned against this counter and his hand was out, pointing you toward the table setting. “You can sit here,” he followed you closely behind as you were ushered toward the spot, and before you had a chance to reach for the chair his swift hand reached first. You looked up into his pink face briefly and then simply sat down. The man was buzzing around you, bringing the wine bottle over to you for a quick refill, doing the same for his own glass which he took one more sip of before he sat it down and you watched as he left the table to go back to the stove. There were movements and sounds and clanks and clatters and soon he was returning with two small shallow bowls. 

“So I,” he was already speaking before he had arrived at the table, “umm, didn’t really want to go too wild tonight. I’m not a fan of hyper-trendy gastronomics; not everything has to be deconstructed. Food can just be constructed. Plus your stomach has been hurting so I’ve gone for a more modern comfort vibe, umm--.” 

You looked down at the pretty yellow-colored soup he’d placed in front of you with the contrasting swirl of white in the center. There was a side of some crusty bread that looked a bit like he might have baked too and that might have explained the yeasty smell you’d caught when you first walked into the room. He extended his hand with a palm up toward the dish he’d just given you. Then he clasped his hands together silently and he lingered, specifically not sitting down on his own side to enjoy his own starter. 

“We have a browned butter, butternut squash, and apple bisque to start. It’s warm and soothing. Sweet and savory, kind of thing.” You really had never heard him speak this fast; saying quite so much. Honestly, it was filling you with bubbly giggles that you had to swallow back down. This side of him was captivating to witness. He was clearly so passionate about food that hearing him talk about it felt like having a gossip session with your bestie and being so pulled into their words that you gasped in surprise or shock or horror with each new twist. You found yourself watching his face closely as he spoke and wishing he wouldn’t stop. He talked quite a bit with his hands and you caught the smallest line of red color on his pinky finger. His hands moved too quickly for examination. He had already moved to his seat and was sitting down watching you with those hands fisted lightly in front of his face. 

You lifted the soup spoon and dipped it lightly into the center of the swirl, catching some of both of the pretty colors of this thick soup and the first taste on your tongue had your eyes widening in genuine surprise. You hadn’t at all expected the depth of flavor in this. You’d kind of just expected something quite like that time you tried squash baby food on a dare but when you actually swallowed a mouthful you could taste something delightfully nutty on your tongue, something undeniably savory yet with a sweetness that went so well with the flavors. The bread, when dipped into it added a contrast in texture and you looked up into his expectant face with a tiny, but thoroughly impressed expression written in your eyes. 

He hadn’t even had any of his yet. He just sat there and watched you with a very well-concealed smile behind his hands.

“Are you kidding me Doh Kyungsoo?” you said between spoonfuls and that smile widened as he bit down on his bottom lip and lifted a single eyebrow over his eye, the ‘exterior’ one, “Why the hell is this so good? It should just taste like squash but, how in the world?”

You heard the slow exhale from his lungs and he lifted his glass to hide his self-satisfied smile behind it. You heard the smallest giggle from him and he dipped his own spoon into his bowl for a small taste. 

More than just being delicious it felt nice inside of your stomach. Something about his choice of vegetables, specifically nothing acidic or spicy, nothing too harsh at all but downright comforting as it warmed you from the inside. He had really made this with only you in mind. You could feel it inside, both figuratively and literally. Your stomach felt soothed with each mouthful. You reached the bottom with the smallest frown of disappointment that it was over. 

Still, you were thankful that he’d only given you a reasonable amount of this soup. You were sure if you had unrestricted access to the pot on the stove you would eat too much of it and pop. As it was now, you’d finished the entire thing and he was already standing and reaching down for your bowl to clear it away. 

He hardly touched his. You wondered if he’d just made this for you and if it wasn’t exactly his favorite. Maybe he’d sampled too much of it while he was cooking it. 

He was busy in the kitchen again. When he returned it was time for the entree and he had a wider smile right off the bat. Clearly, your enjoyment of the soup had gotten rid of any of the nerves from earlier. Or maybe it was the wine that did it. 

“Our entree tonight is braised, brown sugar, balsamic short ribs on top of, uhh, a gouda polenta,” he was placing the dish in front of you, pointing a finger at the different elements on yet another beautifully plated dish of food. 

“Mushrooms instead of spinach, which I think you don't care for,” he pulled his lips tight and winced lightly as he said it with a slight upward inflection of his voice, “and I would normally do scallions on top, but you picked them off of the fish yesterday, so we have safe and harmless, microgreens instead.”

You looked across the table at him, a hand laid just over the bare skin on your chest and a genuinely surprised expression on your face. How he even knew about the spinach thing you had no idea. 

“Did you change the recipe for me?”

“Of course,” he said, looking down at the dish in front of him and picking up his fork, “Why wouldn’t I?” 

He asked it like you were the one dropping bombshells here. 

“How did you know I hate spinach?” you took the first bite of meat with a scoop of polenta and made sure to grab some mushrooms too and you honestly felt like you could just die tonight, even without ever having sex with this man, as long as you could eat this dish from start to finish you swear to God you’d die with a big smile on your face. 

Kyungsoo was chewing and swallowing, grabbing a sip of wine from his glass to clear his throat enough for a response. 

“Oh uhh,” he wiped at his mouth with a napkin, “Claire’s birthday dinner at Bella Mia,” he said with an odd air of finality. 

You lifted your head, mouth too full of food to speak, but after a quick swallow you leaned further, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Bella Mia, that was,” you were racing through your memory, “last year?” 

His eyes dropped to the food in front of him. After a few seconds of silence he was nodding his head lightly and he lifted a tiny bit of polenta into his mouth with the tip of his fork. You went silent as you watched him and after a few seconds, his eyes looked back up into yours. He reached for the wine again, taking a small sip and you were still watching without speaking.

“How do you remember that?” you had to ask it. You simply couldn’t comprehend how one interaction at a restaurant a year ago could have led to him remembering that you didn’t like spinach. You didn't even remember the spinach from that night. You’d never order a dish with spinach in the description, not intentionally. 

“I just do,” he answered and his lips hung open. You were shaking your head, still not quite getting it and he inhaled a long and deep breath, closed his eyes up, and opened his mouth to speak. 

“You asked the waiter if it was possible to take the spinach out of the Spinach Lemon Ricotta Ravioli as if that isn’t the most insane request in the history of Italian food. It’s literally the first ingredient in the name of that dish.” 

You had a mouthful of food and you made a face. You had no memory of this event, but honestly, it sounded like something you might do. You swallowed and you were fighting your smile. A small giggle escaped and you reached for the wine. 

“I need you to understand that at those kinds of high-end restaurants, staff will come in before the sun even comes up to make the fresh pasta, the dough, the filling, the sauces are all prepped and made, some of these things cook for hours. There will be chefs arriving at 4am just to make things like the filling for your Spinach Lemon Ricotta Ravioli and you,” his words paused and his mouth froze as his eyebrows lifted and he shook his head, closing his eyes, his hand was lifted and he motioned in your direction. 

You took another bite of food, thoroughly entertained by whatever you had done that he was he was complaining about, 

“You,” he inhaled a deep breath, “pretty little troublemaker, so fucking cute,” the casually thrown-in compliment stopped your chewing and you felt a warmth in your cheeks but he wasn’t finished, “came in, smiling sweetly and asks this poor kid who survives on your tips if he is willing to go back into that kitchen, which, is like a warzone during peak hours and ask some type-A asshole to remove the Spinach from the 4am prepped and assembled Spinach Lemon Ricotta Ravioli.”

You were laughing. You covered your mouth and you threw your head back with it. His own smile was wide and he watched the laughter move through you until it settled and you were able to nod your head with the smallest shrug as a response. You had no defense. You must have done that at the time and he was right, you didn’t like spinach and would usually avoid it if you could. 

He settled into a soft silence and his smile was gone but his eyes were on you. “I asked Claire for your number that night.” 

It felt like a shock to hear this next part. You hadn’t known this. Claire had never told you. You searched his face for truth and leaned closer to him. 

“You have my number?” 

He nodded his head, closing his eyes lightly and licking his lips. His bottom lip was pink from the wine.

“You never used it,” you remarked and the head nodding didn’t stop. He made no claims to the opposite. 

“I didn’t use it.” 

“Why not?” 

He looked at you with a little bite of his teeth together that you saw through his parted lips. You heard the little hiss of air that escaped. 

“You scare the shit out of me.” It came out as a whisper and you pulled your face back, unable to quite believe that entirely. He didn’t act like someone who was even the least bit intimidated by you. There was nothing scary about you at all. You couldn’t even kill a spider, the thing you hated the most in the world. How in the world were you scary?

“I do?” you were shaking your head and he was nodding his head. “Still? But Kyungsoo, I’m just--” 

“Still do,” his lips formed an O shape and he spoke over whatever denial you were about to voice about how very un-scary you actually were. So what if you were sarcastic and kind of mean and temperamental at times and yelled at him and called him mean names. It didn’t make any sense. None of that was scary. 

“But, why?” 

You lost his eyes when you asked for the reason. He looked down at the table, lifting his half-finished plate and looking over at your empty plate, he simply stood up and grabbed both of them, taking them both over to that kitchen sink where you heard the sounds of water running. He was running too.

He’d gone out of his way to avoid it. You didn’t have it in you to find out the potentially terrible truths about how he really saw you, not tonight. You were having a nice dinner and a nice date with him. You’d both been laughing and giggling and the food was so delicious and felt so nice inside of your stomach, the last thing you wanted was to ruin it by pushing him to answer something he didn’t want to answer. What you always hated the most was being pushed into something you didn’t want to do and you owed him the courtesy of respecting the things he didn’t want to do. 

You wouldn't push.

The wine bottle on the counter was empty. You’d lifted it and shook it with a little frown on your lips. You could see Kyungsoo’s strong back as he moved at the sink and you slipped behind him to reach the fridge where you’d seen him pull the wine bottle from. You were pretty sure you’d seen a few more bottles in there. 

The sound of the fridge door opening pulled his attention away from the dishes he was washing and he angled his torso in your direction with his wet hands still under the running water.

“I’ll get it,” he said quickly and he was rinsing and reaching for a towel. 

“I got it,” you said. You already had the bottle on the counter and you had removed the foil to expose the cork. You were holding the corkscrew above the bottle, pointing it downward with the smallest push. Nothing really happened. You lifted the little arms up and down, noticing how the fat screw moved up and down too. It looked like a joyful little man with a spring for legs.

Kyungsoo was standing behind you, you felt the warmth of him at your back. His arms reached around you and you watched him grip your hand that held the corkscrew, his other hand landed over your other hand and he pulled you up so you were holding the neck of the bottle. It felt exactly like when you were his puppet and he used your body to cook a meal. Except he stood so much closer to you now. No witnesses were watching you both touch each other and you could feel so much more of his body behind you. His hand pressed yours down, corkscrew in hand and he was turning it as he pushed hard. Your wandering eyes watched the flex of his muscles in his forearm.. 

You felt a little bit dizzy and you could feel the effects of his closeness behind you. Your eyes drifted closed and you leaned against him. Letting your head fall back just a little bit so you could feel the weight of his head resting against your own. A low sound escaped your mouth and his breath caught audibly in his throat. His hand that was turning the corkscrew stopped its progress and he froze in place for three whole seconds before you caught the clench of his arm muscles. You’d long abandoned opening the bottle and your hand that had been so busy working had drifted up to just over your shoulder where his face was. You felt the smoothness of his cheek, the firmness in his tense jaw and when you turned your face into him, he hardly gave you any space at all for the spin within his arms and while you’d managed it you were standing so close to him that every bit of his skin was magnified. He seemed to be purposely avoiding your eyes even as you dipped your head to catch them. 

“Stop it,” he whispered and you smiled when his eyes drifted down to look into yours. 

“Why’d you take it away? I was doing it.”

“You weren’t doing shit,” he said with an undercurrent of humor. Behind you, he worked. He didn’t even strain with the effort, not even grunting or making any sounds to indicate that it was even a little bit difficult for him. He just effortlessly pulled the cork out behind your back. He lifted the corkscrew up with the cork still threaded through the spring. You turned to look at it, lifting an eyebrow to see the result of his efforts and he used both of his hands to lift the little arms up and down. It wiggled in his fingers.

“You were making it dance. That’s all you were doing.” 

He was gripping the bottle and walking away from you, doing the cutest little sidestep in the middle of his journey toward the table. You knew, just as you had been, that he’d been a bit affected by the closeness with you just now. 

Soon you had a glass filled with wine in your hand and you had this handsome man’s face back at your side. He was sipping and his eyes were still just a little bit too evasive in a way that put the smallest pout on your lips. You had an inclination that you were being just a little bit bad, but it was only a little bit. You hadn’t even kissed him earlier. You hadn’t touched him with your hands that much, very little actually, he was the one who had put his hands on you, he was the one who wrapped his arms around you and coated your back with his body and even placed his feet just within the same tile you occupied on the floor in front of that countertop. There was no reason why he needed to be stingy with his looks, just because maybe you’d imagined kissing him just now. 

After a few moments, he spoke.

“Did you like it?” 

You lifted your eyebrows and tilted your head, pulling the wine glass down from your lips. You swallowed and lifted your eyes to contemplate what exactly you were being asked. The fantasies about kissing his lips? Yes, you did like those. The closeness to his body? You craved more. Kyungsoo watched your thinking face and you caught the movement of his hand as he raised it up to your face, taking his thumb and lightly running it over your bottom lip. You could feel the moisture he pulled away there; a drop of wine he had wiped from your mouth for you. 

“Yes,” you said in a whisper and his eyes narrowed as he looked away from you for a second.

“You did?” he lifted a single eyebrow, turned from you again, and smiled into the wine glass.

“You finished it. You must have liked it. More so than the fish last night, I think.” 

“Oh, the food,” you giggled and took another sip, leaning lightly against the kitchen counter to keep your balance stable through the laughter. “Yes, the food was amazing, Kyungsoo.”

He was looking at your silly reaction with a widening of his smile. “Of course the food, what did you think I was talking about?” This man was cute when he giggled.

“I liked the fish too. It was probably the best fish I’ve ever tasted.” When your words were out his head was shaking back and forth but that smile stayed put on his pretty face. 

“You sat there, painstakingly picking off every single little bit of scallion you could find on the top of that thing. Do you have any idea how tiny I cut those? Some of them were microscopic and you wouldn't even take a bite until you’d gotten everyone.”

“They weren’t that small. I’m very good with picking things out of my food that I don't want to eat, I have excellent chopsticks skills.” 

“And I have excellent knife skills. I was just waiting for you to try it. And then when you did, you didn’t even say anything. A few bites, not even a head nod. Not even a smile. Do you know what that does to a man?” 

You reached forward and gripped the hand that was flying around in front of him as he talked and his eyes fell down to where you held onto him. You lifted his hand and moved your fingers so that you held on tight to his pinky finger, the one with the very obvious fresh knife slice on it. 

“Knife skills? Kyungsoo, you didn't even cut yourself when you were blindfolded. What is this?” you had a teasing giggle on your lips and his mouth opened once and closed back up again, clearly not expecting you to see the evidence of the small mistake he had made with the knife as he cooked dinner tonight. 

“I had you then,” he said through a rough inhale of air into his lungs and he looked away from you again, sipping on the glass of wine, draining nearly the rest of the glass.

It was a good thing he claimed to have a high alcohol tolerance because you had never made such claims and you both were working through these bottles pretty quickly. 

He was exhaling and he was closing his eyes, shaking his head back and forth and a rough laugh broke through.

“Do you know when the last time I cut myself during prep was?” His eyes were wild now, the smile sheepish and telling, “It’s probably been five -- ten years. I don't mess up, but you--” he inhaled again and stopped speaking for a second. 

“You.” you heard him repeat it. You, the source of all of his problems. Somehow you couldn’t find any reason to be offended. “You had me all fucked up.” 

“I did?” your smile was genuine. You were definitely flattered by this little confession of his. “Do you want me to put a bandaid on it?” You frowned down, not meaning the pity on your face one bit, “blow on it, maybe.” Your lips formed into a tiny ‘o’ shape and you exhaled a slow breath through your lips, lifting his hand up so his wounded pinky was positioned right in front of your lips. You felt too out of control again. You couldn't even remember the last time you felt this giddy. Or the last time you’d flirted this intensely with a man who flat-out refused to have you but definitely wanted you as badly as you did him. 

It was while you held his hand that a thought came back to you. A call-back to before the kiss, before the man pulled you into him and hugged you so tightly, burrowing his face against your belly. Long before you’d even known the depths of his actual feelings for you and your mind sharpened to that thought so intently that your eyes widened with the realization. You were speaking to him before you had a chance to really think about the words you were saying. Although with the wine, you probably wouldn’t have made very many adjustments before you just started blabbing.

“Kyungsoo,” your eyes were wide and you shook his hand within yours. His attention was grabbed in an instant just because of the urgency you had in your voice. You really hadn’t even considered it at all at the time, but now, “Kyungsoo! You could have had sex!” 

You said it with such shock in your voice and his wide eyes flattened and he narrowed them at you, watching your face for a long time as you simply nodded your head in excitement. He very carefully removed his hand from within yours while you were distracted.

“Scrabble, you could have spelled out ‘sex’! You had an ‘X’ Kyungsoo, an ‘X’, that is ten points! It would have sat on the triple letter score, that would have been,” You were counting in your head, lifting a finger to do little mental tabulations, “33 points! Why did you play ‘see’ when you could have had ‘sex’?”

There was something happening on his face. It wasn’t the face of a man who’d had such a grand revelation dropped right into his lap but his eyes were closing up, he was exhaling a very long breath and seemed to go on forever and he was shaking his head very shallowly as he did it. Why wasn’t he excited? He would have stood a chance against you. You frowned lightly at his disappointing reaction. 

“Don't you,” he was speaking. It was coming out slowly. There was some sort of attitude in between his words, “think,” he bit down on his lip and inhaled again, “Don't you think I thought about ‘sex’?”

“I thought about it. ‘Sex’ was the first thing I thought of. The very first thing, before anything else. ‘Sex’ was there --- in my head -- the whole time.” This was a revelation to you. Why didn’t he use it if he had already considered it? Why did he play such a shitty word when he could have had a good one worth a lot of points. 

“I couldn’t play ‘sex.’” He said it with a hand wave into the air in front of him. It felt very final of him to do. “Not with you.” he added with a widening of his eyes and his eyebrows lifted. He seemed just a little bit too worked up for this discussion about Scrabble. “Anyone else, yes, fine. It literally doesn’t matter. But not with you.” 

“Why not with me?” It was inconceivable. He was the most competitive person you had ever met in your entire life and he wanted you to believe that he wouldn’t do anything he possibly could to beat you? Sure 33 points didn’t come close to your 50 but still, he was never going to catch up to you with a measly 5 point word. It sounded a little bit like he wanted to lose. Like he threw in the towel and threw the game. 

“Because I like you -- like that,” He spoke quite abruptly and whatever protests you had planned got caught within your open mouth. 

“Like sex. Like, really, really like you. Like you make me feel fucking crazy, you make me fuck up while cooking, something I don't do.”

“Like I think about you constantly and I want to see you and be near you and hear your laugh and feed you. I want you to think of me and I want you to kiss me. Like it actually scares the shit out of me, how much I like you. Because…because--,” He rubbed a hand roughly through his hair, abandoning this thought.  

“So, no. I couldn’t play ‘sex.’ Not with you.”

You felt too stunned to move. You’d long since closed up your surprised mouth but you stood there looking at this man who had just confessed quite a lot to you and then he had closed up his eyes, lifted his hand to cover his eyes as he tilted his head back. You could see his eyes come open again and he looked up into the ceiling with about as much regret written all over his face as you’d ever seen. 

“Oh,” you managed. It was tiny and yet he heard it and his head sank down, pink cheeks, bright red ears --  all of him. You lifted your wine glass, with the little bit you still had left, slipped a very careful hand down to rest it under his hand holding his own glass, and lifted it just a bit higher, quite surprised that he hadn’t dropped it or spilled the last few drops during his passionate speech about how much he likes you and how absolutely head over heels he was for you and how he would rather lose at something than admit just how badly he wants you; and with the smallest little tilt of your hand you hit the rim of your glass against his, letting the sound of that glass clinking note ring out clearly in the silent space between you both. 

“To ‘No Sex Tonight,’” you whispered into the opening of your wine glass and you lifted it, draining the last of its contents, as you simultaneously lifted the hand that sat below his wine glass until it reached his lips and you felt him give in, raising the glass and swallowing what was left. 

The silence between the two of you withstood. Neither of you said anything after the stupid toast and you cleared your throat actually beginning to feel quite desperate for something to fill in this silence. You almost couldn’t breathe in here. 

“You didn’t seem to eat much,” you had to speak, even if the words were just a flimsy subject change. You had actually been interested in his odd behavior with the amazing food he had spent two hours preparing. 

“Oh,” he said with a wave of his hand and a head shake, “I’m uhh, kind of sick of my own cooking.” he even had the audacity to make a face that had a tinge of disgust. You threw your face back and away from him, lifting your hand to cover your chest in absolute disbelief. 

“You what?” your question betrayed the absolute disbelief you felt. 

“I mean, I just can’t. Especially something that takes a long time to cook. If I’ve been smelling something for hours, sometimes it just overstays its welcome. I can’t really explain it.” 

You tried to remember seeing him eating before and he did in fact seem to pick at his fish and not really eat it with the same vigor that you had devoured your filet with. But then again you remembered him with the eggs benedict. He had cleared that dish completely; you saw the empty plate and all. 

“But you ate all of the eggs this morning.” 

“Oh, you made that. I liked that,” he said with a hand wave. He was again, refilling his glass of wine and tipping the bottle opening to do the same for yours. 

You were shaking your head, remembering how heavy of a hand he had in that dish, how vigorously he was shaking your hand to get that hollandaise sauce to reach the correct state of emulsification, and how hard it was to keep up with him as he did it. 

“Kyungsoo, you just held my hands, you made it.”

“No way, That was you. I just touched you a little and showed you what to do. I helped very little in that, you did most of it. You did great. The tomatoes were a little,” he held up his index finger and thumb, “large, but I actually liked how they felt to bite into. I think I’ll start adjusting my cutting every now and then and just fucking go for it like you did.”

“Rustic, you know?” He was teasing you, you could feel it in the soft smile that had landed on his lips and you scoffed out a quick laugh. 

You reached out a hand to swat at his chest and he giggled, seeing you coming he reached up to grab ahold of your hand, keeping your palm flat against his chest for a few moments. 

“Do you have room?” His question was vague and of course, your mind had been focused on feeling that steady rhythm of his heart beating below the thin fabric of this shirt he was wearing. Below your palm, you could feel the firmness in his chest muscles and it took you longer than it should have to acknowledge that he spoke to you. 

“Dessert?” You knew he couldn’t have been asking if you had room in your bed for him tonight because yes, yes, a thousand yes’s, he could fit beside you and inside of you and — he was nodding his head, “did you make dessert too?” you asked.

“Something very simple. We only had eggs and milk here. Crème brûlée.”

You felt the sudden excitement. It was one of your favorites! Not just because it was delicious but you absolutely loved cracking it with the spoon. You were smiling and nodding and you lifted up your hand, moving it up and down a little as if you held a spoon. 

“Ooo, can I do the cracking?” 

He laughed once while heading to the fridge and pulling it open. 

“Yeah, let me torch it.” He pulled out two ramekins and made quick work of sprinkling sugar on top of each of them. Then he had fire. You watched him hold the fire and you were standing right beside him holding two teaspoons held up in front of your face and you watched and you waited with wide-eyed excitement. The sugar that he had sprinkled slowly began to change color and it melted and bubbled and you leaned over his shoulder to watch it.

The second the torch was off you leaned forward with a spoon outstretched.

“Wait, wait,” he was laughing harder, “you need to wait a few seconds.”

He touched very lightly on top of the toasted sugar and nodded his head twice, “Okay, go.” 

You reached forward and smacked it hard. The first crack was the absolute best and you tapped the spoon again a few more times, delighted with the satisfaction you felt inside. You kept cracking until there was no more cracking to be had and he was holding his belly with laughter as he watched you do it. You felt like a child at Christmas time.

When you pulled your face back up and looked at him you had only one question for him. He was already giggling and shaking his head with his eyes closed.

“Kyungsoo,” you whined. He was nodding his head already, answering the question he already knew you were going to ask, “Kyungsoo are you going to crack yours? Can I crack yours?” You had your hands lifted into a begging posture and your spoon was still lifted, with bits of sugar from the first one still stuck to it.

 “You can,” he giggled and nodded again and you wasted no time, not willing to risk that he might change his mind and regret giving you cracking permission; you hit just as hard, cracking it all over until it was completely shattered and all of the cracking was finished. You pulled your face up and smiled widely. 

Kyungsoo had reached for a spoon and was dipping it into the pudding, lifting up a small bit and bringing it up to your mouth. You opened your lips and accepted the bite. Of course, it was delicious. It was sweet and creamy and expertly set. The bits of torched sugar on top added a pleasant crunch. He was dipping his spoon and taking a bite from the same ramekin as you had tried and you looked down at the other dessert, dipping your spoon and pushing another mouthful into his surprised mouth. He pulled it in, chewing and swallowing and the back and forth continued for a few more minutes until both dishes were completely empty and you simply couldn’t handle any more food tonight. You felt thoroughly done. You felt insane with the giddiness, struggling to come up with a single flaw no matter how hard you thought about it. Maybe the only regret you felt inside of your heart could be just how well-behaved you had been all night long. You hadn’t once done anything that might lead to forbidden sex that he definitely didn't want and as you watched his face, he definitely looked content to lean against this countertop and simply exist beside you in your presence. 

He had said that, after all. That he wanted to be near you. To hear your laughter, to feed you. 

“Kyungsoo,” you called his attention and he turned his face to you, still a little bit rosy from all the laughter but much calmer now that the wild excitement you were feeling had faded some. His eyebrows lifted and his eyes roamed around your face with the tiny hum that left his chest. You held your breath and closed your eyes. 

“Do you want to be together -- with me -- in a relationship?” As soon as it was out, you felt a surge of nerves flood through your stomach. The effect was so strong and instantaneous and he seemed completely frozen in place, his eyes were still on your face and only the smallest tick of his head was his only movement. His smile and all traces of that happiness were gone in an instant. He just stared at you with a completely caught-off-guard expression in his eyes and his mouth motionless and silent.

And he stayed that way for the four, five, six deep breaths that you took, not moving a muscle and definitely not answering your question with a loud, definite, ear-bursting yes. In fact the longer his silence went on and on, there came a moment in his silence where you could no longer look at him. You had to look away and you closed your eyes up tight when you heard the inhale and the exhale that came from his lungs, but absolutely no words came out of him. Nothing. He said nothing. 

You exhaled a small scoff of disbelief.

This question came too soon. You were an idiot. He liked you, sure but that didn’t mean he was ready for anything serious with you. He wasn’t even ready to give into the most basic human act of sex without being absolutely completely sure he was committed to someone and that they were committed to him. There had been a reason he hadn’t ever asked you for any sort of commitment. Not only did he not want the sex, but he didn’t want you, not really, not like that. He had told you twice about how scared he was of you. Was this why he had stood you up that night? Was this the reason why he had been so hesitant to get close to you for so long? 

You shook your head and lifted your face, opening your eyes and pushing the smile to your face. You sold it so well. He was looking down at the countertop, absentmindedly picking up grains of sugar with his fingertip, moving all that had spilled into the smallest pile and you could see the conflict written all over his face. 

“Sorry,” you whispered because you were sorry to him. Sorry that you had to say such an abrupt thing when he obviously wasn’t ready for anything like that. Sorry that you couldn’t be the solution to all of his worries and problems in his life. Sorry that you actually caused a few more problems for him than you meant to. You watched him, catching the drift of his eyes as he looked halfway up but he never pulled his attention completely up to you. “I understand,” you said a little bit louder. “Thank you for a lovely dinner, Kyungsoo. It was amazing. You are amazing.” 

You had to leave though. You simply could not stand it here, in this atmosphere you had created with your enormous leaps. Why you simply could not control yourself, you had never been able to figure out. The worst part about you, the thing you absolutely hated the most was your flimsy self-control. It had gotten you fired when you lashed out at that bitch who baited you daily. It had led to you lashing out in anger at friends in the past. At Kyungsoo when you’d felt that he’d done you wrong. You hated everything about yourself right now. You always leaped first and asked questions later. It was the worst. You were the worst. 

You tapped twice on the back of his hand, a small farewell, literally the only thing you could do besides the flimsy apology and you spun on your heels, taking very swift steps out of the kitchen, through the blue door that slammed with a heavy noise on your way through it, down the darkened hallway passed the room with the bunks and further down until you reached a dead end. There was only a big exit door here. It blurred around the edges with the tears that filled your eyes. This was the way out of this place for good. 

The rain had stopped long ago and you pushed the door open, reaching the edge of the front patio and its steep steps. You sat down on the top step wishing and praying to the heavens above that the rain could start again soon because you were desperate for something to hide the tears that streamed down your face. 

Links: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9

[lovelyhan]

elaborate in that shua imagine rn 🔪🔪🔪

JOSHUA — 00:51

i wasn't going to but i'm sooo horny worked up for shua these days that maybe i can use a little self indulgence 🧍attached the fansite pics that drove me insane in the middle of the day for funsies too <3

warnings: school uniform kink? smut (MINORS DNI)

"it wasn't this tight before." joshua pouts as he checks himself out in the mirror right after buttoning his shirt. "my friends used to tease me for being all lanky back in tenth grade, too."

it takes you a while to formulate a response—definitely not because you're distracted by the way the taut fabric of his old high school uniform visibly strains against the delicious circumference of his biceps. joshua glances behind him with a quizzical look.

"uh." you gulp, hoping to god that he didn't notice the way you almost drooled. "you go to the gym like thrice a week. i think the gains are very much spoken for."

your clipped response makes him arch an eyebrow but your boyfriend doesn't really comment on it. instead, he turns back to gaze at his reflection and promptly flexes his arms—the poor short sleeves doing their best not to tear at the seams.

fuck. you can feel your core throbbing at the supposedly innocent sight of your boyfriend admiring his own hard work. you cross your legs from where you're seated on the swiveling chair by his desk, silently pleading for your brain to please get out of the gutter.

"guess you're right," joshua laughs softly. "didn't expect that it'd be tight around the chest too though. maybe all that weight training was worth it after all."

"but baby, why are you looking at me like you wanna fuck?"

long story short, that's how you ended up on top of joshua's childhood bed with your skirt bunched up your hips—his long, thick cock sliding into your velvet heat with a torturously slow pace.

"you're such a filthy girl, aren't you?" he chuckles, tongue swiping along his bottom lip as he watches his length disappear inside you. "my mom is kind enough to cook us dinner downstairs but here you are getting worked up because of an old uniform. you like my arms that much, baby?"

you hate how joshua knows you like the back of his hand. you barely even gave away any hint of being turned on by how his shirt emphasized his broad shoulders and beefy arms, but he's got killer intuition after all.

"y-yes," you dole out pathetically, helpless from how deliciously he stretches you open. "so fuckin' hot, shua... got wet just looking at you. couldn't help myself."

your boyfriend sighs, planting his palms flat on either side of your head as he gazes at you lovingly and ravenously at the same time. he halts his movements completely as he lets you feel the way his cock throbs inside you.

"so impatient," he scolds. "couldn't wait until we got home before giving me those pretty bedroom eyes, huh?"

not seeing any incentive in saving face with a lie, you nod. "need you now. p-please fuck me shua. wanna get split in half on your cock—!"

he meets you halfway with a harsh thrust that makes the headboard thud against the wall, momentarily startling you out of your fucked out haze.

"god. fuck, baby," joshua rasps before leaning down to graze his teeth along the cut of your jaw. "don't say those kinds of things. we need to be quiet. wouldn't want my parents knowing how much of a dirty girl you are—wanting to get fucked stupid in my bed on the first visit—now do you?"

you shake your head—a prickle of rationality miraculously still floating amidst your lust-addled mind. joshua's parents are absolute sweethearts. they welcomed you into their house with open arms and wanted nothing but to make you feel at home.

what they don't know—and you hope to god won't ever find out—is that you feel most at home with your hot boyfriend fucking you stupid.

"joshua," you whimper quietly as he pounds you into the mattress—his arms flexing with the strain of thrusting into you with vigor while staying as quiet as possible. "you fuck me so good, baby. fucking love your cock s-so much!"

"you sure it's my cock that you love, not this uniform?" he breathes with a condescending smile—the muffled noise of skin slapping against skin ringing in your ears. "i've never seen you get horny so fucking quick over any other outfit i've worn before."

you can't even chide him for insinuating that you have some sort of school uniform kink or whatever—too delirious with how the vein running along the underside of his dick slides along your gummy walls. the wet sound of sex fills the room and you can only hope that neither of his parents would hear what's really going on in their only son's bedroom.

"'m so close, shua," you plead, tears catching along the line of your lashes as you hook your arms around his neck. "fill me up, please, please. need to feel you come in me, baby—i want it."

"needy fucking girl," he growls before hooking the back of your knees across his elbows—fucking into you with waning precision. "i'll finish inside this needy pussy and you'll sit at the dinner table with my cum dripping out of your hole. you want that, huh?"

before you can wrench out a semi-coherent response, joshua crushes his lips against yours before lifting your ass higher from the mattress. the new angle makes the fat head of his cock graze the sensitive patch of flesh deep inside you—making you cry out pathetically against his mouth.

your pussy clamps around joshua's heavy length with a vice grip, eyes fluttering as your orgasm washes over you like a storm surging into calm shores. your boyfriend isn't too far behind as he starts muttering obscenities against your lips before you feel his hot cum surge into your battered cunt—filling you until overflowing.

he strokes your hair lovingly as you both come down from your high, shared pants saturating the air with heat as he flashes you a ditzy smile. lightheadedness aside, you roll your eyes before mustering what little strength you have left to lean in and press a kiss on his lips.

then, a knock on his door interrupts the quiet afterglow.

"joshua, dinner's ready. both of you head back down, okay?"

he looks at you before stifling a soft laugh, slipping his softening cock out of your ruined hole before flashing you another heart-rending grin.

"we'll be right down, mom."

[especiallythewomenandthechildren]

As If Destiny

A/N: I too have fallen ill to the widespread disease that is young snow 😮‍💨 like him being so fine is so unnecessary. Some quick notes: I've never actually written a fic on here nor a reader one in general so please deal with me! Also I wrote out this whole thing, posted it, then it went into oblivion and I had to rewrite it completely so I apologize! Please let me know if I should add anything or am missing certain details that seem necessary. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated, thank you loves❤️

Summary: You've always been kind hearted yet admirably defiant. Or that is at least one of the ways Coriolanus Snow would describe you. Ever since grade school, you have always been on the same level as him in academics and one of his few competitors for the Plinth Prize. But as tragedy struck your family, Coriolanus thought you would fall away from his life, but instead, you got even more intertwined (not to mention the complicated past knots tying your families together).

Warnings: Terminal illness, parent death, death and brutality (it is the hunger games after all) characters may be ooc. I read the book a while ago but don't really remember much of Snows way of thinking (I mean I know its toxic and insane but yk the other things) so I will mostly be basing off the film and my own thoughts. Also I can't spell for the life of me so be prepared for bad spelling and grammar. Enjoy loves!

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Blood just kept on coming. And coming. And coming. Every violent cough shaking your mother's body was followed by spatters of hot, deep red blood. You quickly tried to clean it up as soon as it came out to protect your mother's dignity and to make sure she didn't choke. It took a few minutes, but the coughing session passed and your mother took deep gulps of water, fighting off your attempt to get her to slow down.

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With her engrossed in her cup, you steal a glance at the clock on the wall. As the time for the start of classes nears, the more axinety builds in your chest. Your mother follows your gaze and smiles warmly.

"Run along my little scholar. I will be fine and even better knowing you are sticking your nose in every textbook you can find."

She says in a hoarse voice. You smile slightly and lightly laugh. "That's not how school works, mom. I stick my nose into tissues because of how many textbooks I have to read ."

She rolls her eyes at your little comment and does a little motion gesturing you should be on your way. Shaking your head, you retorted "I still have half an hour till classes begin and I have plenty of time for Rhayen (your driver) to take me to the academy."

You attempt to assure her. Though, it was now your mother's turn to shake her head.

"I know you prefer walking there, don't try to fool me now. You will come back after school and I will be fine. Don't worry, darling."

With a sigh, you stand up and dust off your rouge colored academy uniform and grab your bag. You give your mother a soft kiss on her temple and steal one more glance at the clock. You rush through the halls and down the stairs of your luxurious apartment. The academy wasn't too far from your home, so you could enjoy the walk and the early spring air ruffling your hair.

You tried to smile and nod at the strangers walking past. You needed to clear your mind (distract yourself) so you examined every part of the high class society. Their eyes, faces, hair, clothing, and whatever else you could analyze. With this strategy, it doesn't take long untill the grand structure of the Capital academy to come into view.

As you near the school, you notice a certain curly haired boy sitting on the steps. You feel a sense of relief and pick up your pace. You stop infront of the boy, who seemed too engrossed into his book to notice your sudden appearance.

"Are you behind on the reading or are you being a bookworm?" You question.

He snaps his head up with his familiar smile. "Had some extra time and motivation, so thought I would trudge through this absolute -"

You nudge him with your shoulder to motion to stop talking.

"Yeah yeah I know but be careful: Professor Rhaen always spawns out of nowhere and I would personally prefer if you were not on the receiving end of one of his lectures."

Everyone knew how hard it was to please your professor and how strict your he was. Especially with Sejanus.

He didn't care about his money: professor Rhaen still felt Sejanus was lesser because he was born in the districts.

That sentiment is widely shared with your classmates. From the first day, when little kind hearted Sejanus came to the capital, he was met with stares and whispers. You specifically remember Arachne snubbing the boy. But when lunch came and he sat all alone, seemingly dejected, you sauntered over to his table. Then, just like now, his brown eyes widened in surprise. You smiled and sat down in the chair across from him.

"What's your favorite smell?"

He just stared at you for a while. who asks that. The silence continued untill you got too impatient, a trait you still struggle with, and answer your own question.

"Mine is vanilla because it smells like the sweet cakes my mom makes on special occasions or even sometimes when she is in a really good mood."

A smell that has slowly been creeping its way back into your life after the war. He laughed at your confession and replied that his was lavender, the smell of his mother, or as he calls her, ma.

He was still warry as why you were sitting with him. It was clear you were well liked by your peers and teachers and always seemed to posses the right answers, exemplified in your shared morning classes. But as you both continued your meal and conversation, he felt as if he had been sent an angel that day.

"There's that smile, I've missed it." Sejanus says, breaking you out of your reminiscence.

You duck your head down in some sort of embarrassment and shame. It felt wrong to be smiling and laughing nowadays, especially with the worsening of your mother's condition.

Noticing your reaction and following your train of thought, Sejanus tried to backtrack.

"I didn't mean it like that, Y/N! I'm sorry, you've been suffering and here I am saying stuff like that. I- I- wow I'm such an idiot! I'm truly sorry."

You look up to his genuinely defated and apolgetic face. "You have no reason to be sorry, it's okay. And it's not like I'm the one suffering. I can walk, talk normally, and am not coughing up blood while my face pales and hollows." You say solemnly.

Sejanus opened his mouth to question but was cut off as you both reached your destination. It was best not to discuss your mother's condition around your gossip privy peers around.

You walk to your desks and switch to the topic of later tonight, which you would be having dinner with the Plinths, an occurrence that is becoming more and more often. The last few of your classmates filled in, including Arachne, Clemensia, Festus, and Felix.

A few paces later comes in the charming and handsome Coriolanus Snow. You wouldn't be embarrassed to admit that description, any girl with eyes would agree. With that ever plastered, neutral yet calculated expression on his face, he quickly made his way to his seat, on the other side of you.

He wasn't necessarily friends with you or even Sejanus, but he was far kinder to him than the others were. That's probably one of the many aspects that makes him more appealing. You definitely didn't have a crush on him, but you have zoned out on his side profile once or twice.

Hey, you can't blame a girl!

Well that was your excuse to Sejanus, who caught you seconds in on staring at the blonde. But that was a long time ago. Now you were always zoned out on her.

That's exactly where your mind drifted to as Professor Rhaen began his lecture on the reading assigned. And it stayed there untill the sound of a pen hitting the marble floor brought you back.

You thought it could have been you, especially in your state of hazy focus and sleep deprivation. But taking a quick look at your feet, it was Coriolanus's.

Perfect and proper Coriolanus. Huh.

You hastily grab it and give it back to him, which he accepts with a small greatful smile. A smile that quickly turns into a look of concern.

He grabs your wrist and began examining it. You were stunned and curious what he was looking at until you noticed the deep and clear blood on your wrist, clear even on your deep red uniform.

You must have gotten it when taking care of your mother! You were mentally kicking yourself for being so careless.

"Your bleeding!" He states worridly. He quickly grabs a handkerchief from his bag and attempts to put it on your wrist, but you snap it away from his hold.

You noticed the initials on the white handkerchief. It was his father's. You certainly weren't going to stain such an item of sentiment with blood that wasn't even yours. Her blood.

He was moving to grab your wrist once again but was interrupted by the clear nosies of irritation and frustration of your classmates.

While you and Snow were having your little debacle, Professor Rhaen assigned an extensive research paper that will be due in two months. You understood your peers frustration, the longer you had in this class for an assignment, the more work and harsher the grading will be. But you were greatful for this assignment. It would be a wonderful distraction.

You took a quick look around to gage their reactions and saw Arachne's scowl which made you inwardly chuckle at her expression. But when you came back around to Coriolanus, you saw him still staring at with you a questioning expression.

Questions he would be unable to voice as the bell rang to signal the end of the first period. He tried to stop you or slow you down, but you were extremely focused on getting your materials in your bag and getting out of the intense stare of the blonde.

Sejanus noticed your haste and helped you out, while Snow was attempting to catch up, handkerchief still in hand. But you sped out and straight to the bathroom to wash off the blood covering your hands.

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A/N: Sorry to cut it off here! I felt this was already so long (future me after doing some revisions and having some actual writing under my belt - no it's not.), but don't worry I plan on posting again soon! I am excited to see where this is going I hope you all are too!

[yujinnieswifeu]

helloooo! i love your works and i just wanted to req,, i was rlly nervous since this is my first ever rq! could you write bottom!femreader x softdom!ahnyujin

pairings: bottom!fem reader x soft dom!yujin

warnings: smut, lots of teasing (i think y’all can tell how much love teasing by now 🥹)

a/n: hiiiii omgg first of all, can i say i’m really sorry for the super late update? 😭 idk how many weeks it has been till i got on this ask so really sorry :((. And secondly i’m so honoured that i’m the first person you requested too so thanks 🥹🥹, it’s really nice to know that someone enjoys what i write so i appreciate it so so much!! Anyws, i tried to make Yujin softer here, hope you like this ask :3 tq sm for requesting!!

Just imagine..it was the weekends and the only time Yujin and you had the time to spend quality time together.

So imagine when she sees you in the kitchen making breakfast when she found out that you were not beside her this morning.

Soft dom Yujin seeing you making breakfast in the kitchen, coming up to you as she presses her front to your back. She would plant a small kiss at the back of your neck, making you giggle at the feeling as you try to brush her off you since you were preparing you two’s breakfasts. She would be so whiny, pressing her front further your back, grinding against you as her hands slides sneakily under your shirt. “Mm you smell so good baby, don’t stop me hm?” She says lazily against your ear.

You would just push your hips back, which you knew that Yujin would go insane over, and it worked. She decided to tease you, just watching you crumble against her was making her clit throb. “I’m cooking us breakfast, you know that right?” You try to avert your attention, and Yujin had a playful thought in her mind. “Continue then.” She orders, and you knew where this was getting to. Biting your bottom lip between your teeth, you try to concentrate on whisking the liquid in the bowl. It didn’t help when Yujin snakes her hand further up, feeling your soft skin against her palms as she reaches a certain spot. You immediately moan, your eyes closed as your breathing gets heavier. “Fuck…you always fit nicely in my hands.” She groans against your skin as she squeezes your breasts, while licking, sucking and biting at your neck.

You couldn’t help but tilt your head back against Yujin’s shoulder, giving her more access to your neck, a throaty moan escaping your lips. She sighs against your neck, taking this opportunity to lick a long stripe up your neck to your collarbone, making you shiver and let out a whimper. “P-please Yujin..” You whine in need, the feeling between your legs were starting to get uncomfortable, and her hands were still fondling with your nipples. “Please what sweetheart?” Her voice is low and sultry, her fingers wrapping around your nipples to pinch and twists them. You let out a whimper, bitting your bottom lip as you grab her hands, trying to push them down to where you need them the most.

She only pulls her fingers away instead, making you whine out in response as you turn your body around. “Baby, why did you stop?” You pout cutely, and Yujin only giggles, brushing her hair back with one of her hands. “I told you to focus on making breakfast didn’t i?” She raises a brow, and you could feel the pink in your cheeks, the events that just happened replaying in your mind and you couldn’t help but squeeze your thighs together. Yujin notices this of course, her eyes watching you squirm and she smirks a little. “Please Yujin..need you.” You try again, and your girlfriend steps closer this time, cornering you to the counter. “Get cooking.”

。。。

You were told not to make a noise. Every time you get a little distracted when preparing breakfast for Yujin and yourself, she would slow her movements, making you whine only for her to tell you to focus on the task at hand. “Ah ah..focus on cooking y/n.” She has her chin nestled on your shoulder, her fingers lazily playing at your clit. It drives you crazy how she can be all this calm and normal when you are the total opposite of that. You start to grind your hips a little, wanting more friction and Yujin slows her movements again. You were starting to get desperate with the way she was moving her fingers on your clit, bringing you to the edge pathetically without her tongue or fastening her pace. She notices this, stopping her movements entirely and you let out another whine.

“N-no no! Why please? I’ve been good please?” You say desperately at the lost of contact, only for her to turn you around, making you face her. Now she could see how desperate you were, how needy you were for her to ruin you. She loved the fact that only she was capable of making you feel this way. “Tell me what you want hm?” She wants to hear it. Hear you beg for her to make you cum, hear the need in your voice. “P-please…need you to make me cum please?” You were giving her those puppy eyes, the desperation in your voice was all she needed to get on her knees as she takes off your shorts in the process. It was only then that she could see how truly wet she has gotten you. “Fuck..you’re so wet for me baby.” She bit her bottom lip, rubbing the damp spot on your panties as you moan, moving your hips in need. She pushes your panties to the side, her tongue taking a long stripe of your arousal over her tongue, making you gasp, your fingers goes to grip at her hair, wanting her to eat you out.

She moans at the taste of you on her tongue as she eats you out like a starved person. Your moans starts to get louder, your eyes rolling to the back as your mouth is agape. Yujin loves how you look right now, her eyes hooded with lust and she brings her hands up your breasts, fondling them, watching you gasp, your brows furrow as you look down at her. She was just as needy as you. “I’m c-cumming!” The desperation in your voice only fuels Yujin to lap at your bundle of nerves faster. Hearing you moan even louder as she flicks her tongue faster against your clit makes her groan, the buzzing feeling only adds to the sensation and you cum all over her face, your fingers lost in her hair as you bring her impossibly closer to your pussy, grinding your hips against her face as she moans at the taste of you.

She cleans you up, not getting up yet as she plants a soft kiss on your pussy lips, the sight makes you blush, rolling your eyes playfully as you hear her giggle, standing up and she bites her bottom lip. “Can you continue making our breakfast later baby?” Her hair was a little disheveled, her chin glossy with your juices mixed with her saliva. “You know i can’t do that.” You shake your head no, quickly pulling up your shorts again and she pouts at you, a whine leaving her lips. “I want my breakfast now baby, please?” She looks at you with that puppy look and you knew what she meant by ‘breakfast’. Sighing, you mumbled an okay which did not go unheard because within seconds, you were carried back into the bedroom where Yujin would get her breakfast which was you 😋.

[skzdust]

Contingency

Part 1

Welcome to a new series! This is my first mafia au, so I hope you all like it! It starts off a bit slow but next chapter things will really pick up ;)

Summary: You accept a job from your best friend Seonghwa getting information on Ateez's rival group, SKZ. You decide to get to the organization through one of their members: Lee Minho. You find yourself falling for him, and things get even more complicated when SKZ's resident hacker seems to have his sights set on you as well.

Pairing: Lee Know x I.N x Reader

Includes: Seonghwa being a good friend, coffee shop meetings, Lee Minho being hot

Word count: 1.5k

Taglist (Comment on a post/send an ask if you'd like to be added): @weirdowithaphone, @caught-in-the-afterglow, @palindrome969, @skzstan12345, @katsukis1wife, @tsunderelino

Reblogs, likes, comments all appreciated!!!

Part 2 | Part 3

Masterlist

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“You’re looking for a job right now, yes?” Seonghwa raised his eyebrows, leaning forward on his elbows.

You blinked. “Blunt, but yes.”

“Perfect.” A smile lit up his eyes.

It often did. Seonghwa may have been a member of ruthless criminal organization Ateez, but he was warm and sentimental and kind. Although you supposed you hadn’t seen him at his usual work of interrogations—you doubted his victims got that same side of him.

“What is it?”

“Well… it’s something for us, actually.”

You were confused. “Doesn’t Hongjoong usually keep things internal?”

“That’s…” Seonghwa cleared his throat. “That’s the issue. We can’t send one of our own. I can’t tell you too much, but Hongjoong… he’s planning something, and he wants to know how much information a certain other organization has on us. We can’t risk one of ours getting captured by them.”

“Another organization?” Your eyes widened as you realized who he must mean. “You’ve gotta be kidding. Their screening process is infamously insane. I’ll never get far enough in to get the information you need in time.”

Seonghwa shrugged. “We’re putting the offer out to a few people. You’re not the only bounty hunter we know.”

You held one hand to your chest. “Wow, and here I thought we were best friends.”

“We are!” Seonghwa took your other hand. “Ateez knows other bounty hunters, but you’re Park Seonghwa’s favorite.”

“How sweet.”

He let go of your hand to make a heart between both of his. “Anytime.”

“So… I need to find SKZ’s file on Ateez and deliver it to you? For how much?”

Seonghwa jerked his head, indicating he wanted to say something in your ear, and you leaned in. He whispered the amount, and your eyes went wide.

“Deadass?”

“Deadass.” His eyes twinkled.

“For that money, you can consider them infiltrated already.”

“There you go! That’s the spirit!”

—

You went over your plan in your head for the thousandth time as you waited in the coffee shop. You had no way of knowing exactly when he would show up, so you couldn’t be distracted.

You spotted him as soon as he walked in. Nothing about him explicitly screamed “criminal underworld”, but the way he carried himself, the subtle quality of the leather jacket he wore, the shifting of his eyes across the space as he analyzed for potential threats all told you this man was just like you—dangerous.

You knew Ateez’s papers on your target—at least the ones you’d been granted access to—could only tell you so much, but you reviewed a few pieces of information you’d gleaned from the file as you watched him get in line.

Lee Minho loved coffee; his usual order was an iced americano. He had a fondness for cats. He’d had two girlfriends in the past three years.

Lee Minho had good aim; he could shoot a man in a snowstorm at night with one bullet. He had shot a man in a snowstorm at night with one bullet.

Lee Minho had the highest kill count in SKZ.

You added one to your mental list: Lee Minho was hot.

It was self-indulgent, but it would definitely make your plan easier for you.

You looked back down at your notebook, trying to look busy as he did another glance around the room. You tapped at the binding with the eraser of your pencil, biting the inside of your lip as you pretended to focus intently on something.

As the barista called out, “Minho!”, setting down a cup on the counter, you began to pack up your things. By the time the drink was in his hand, you were standing up, and by the time Minho had made it to the door, you were walking at a brisk pace, staring at your phone intently. So intently, in fact, that you walked right into him.

He reacted in moments, his hand moving to your arm, holding it tightly so you didn’t lose your balance. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m—I’m good, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t—”

“No worries.” He cut you off smoothly. “No harm done.”

“You sure you’re okay?” You looked at his coffee, which he’d held away from his body. “Nothing spilled?”

“Nope. Are you okay? All… good?” His eyes darted up and down your body, and his gaze lingered on your bag for a moment too long. You knew he was likely scanning for weapons, but a piece of you hoped he was checking you out.

“Yes.” You adjusted the bag on your shoulder, and his eyes snapped back to your face. His smile was reserved, but genuine. “I’m sure I’ll see you around if you’re here often, but have a nice day.”

“Yeah, I’m here a lot. Have a good day!” You tried to be peppy. That was your persona right now: y/n l/n. A kind, good person.

He nodded his head in a goodbye, then walked out the door. You followed him out and went off in the opposite direction, satisfied with the interaction.

—

You didn’t want to take the plan slow, but you knew that you’d have to if you wanted to get all the information Ateez had requested. Minho would suspect something if you were overly clingy or moved too fast. So, the next day, you resolved not to talk to him as you set up your laptop and notebook. You’d look up when he passed your table—one you’d selected right next to the part of the bar where customers picked up their drinks—and smile sweetly, and that would be it.

You weren’t counting on Minho looking around as he waited for his americano, seeing you, giving a small smile, and walking over. You hurried to close the more suspicious tabs on your computer, despite the fact that he approached from the opposite direction.

“Hello.” He tilted his head, as if analyzing you. “You’re here again.”

“I am.” You closed the last one and turned your full attention to him. “So are you.”

“I like the coffee here, it’s better than a lot of other places, and I usually need a lot of caffeine.”

You took a sip of your own drink. “It is good. What do you need caffeine for?” It was an obvious question, and you knew the answer, but it was something an uninformed civilian would ask.

He gave a brief laugh before saying, “It’s complicated, but I do business stuff with a bank. I work a lot of late nights. What do you do?”

You fought to keep a laugh of your own off your face. He clearly wasn’t used to giving that lie, and while it would’ve fooled a random person, you knew the truth, which let you monitor his tells.

(Which were shifting his weight between his feet, speaking a little too loudly, and the immediate subject change.)

“Mm.” You said instead, nodding. “That sounds important. I’m in tech stuff. Coding.” You raised your eyebrows. “It’s complicated.”

“Is it?”

“It is.”

You smiled at each other for a moment before the barista called out, “Minho!”, and he went to get his drink. He stopped by your table again.

“My name’s Minho.” He held up his coffee. “If you couldn’t tell from that.”

“I’m y/n.” You tilted your laptop screen down. “Am I gonna see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah.” He smiled, just a bit bigger. “Maybe we can sit together.”

Something bubbled in your chest—something real. Your plan had been to start dating Minho as a ruse to get close to SKZ, breaking up with him as soon as you had the information you needed. So you told yourself the feeling was just excitement that your plan was working. It had nothing to do with Minho specifically. You’d feel this way over any plan working.

You knew you were lying to yourself, but you shushed that portion of your brain. You could not catch feelings for Lee Minho.

“I’ll save a seat for you… wait, here.” You ripped a piece of paper off one of your notebook pages and scribbled your name and number.

You knew it was unnecessarily risky to use your real name verbally, let alone write it down with your number, even if it was a burner phone. But no one you worked with or around knew it, and you’d grown to miss hearing it.

You knew it was worth it when Minho mumbled it as he read the paper. “Y/n.”

You smiled. “Yeah, in… in case you want to call me or something.”

He put it in his pocket, his eyes glinting. “Y’know, it’s pretty risky to hand out your name and number to strangers.”

You shrugged. “I don’t hand out my name and number to most strangers.”

He leaned in a few inches. “And what if I’m the dangerous kind?”

You smirked. “Then at least you’re hot.”

He gave a real laugh as he leaned away. “You’re funny, y/n. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow.”

You watched him walk out of the coffee shop, hands in his pockets.

You were glad the plan was working. That was all.

[queer-enderdragon]

dear lord, okie.

rewatched both eps out so far, like just to have everything fresh in mind, and i got two things to share. first one is more music analysis from a music enthusiast who might or might not read a lot between lines, and second, a Thought i had that... well, maybe will be relevant, maybe not

so... the music,

if we take in the fact that ivory has been working on this project for at least 2 years and maybe some, and that instead of using music done by others she is doing these herself... well, wp!ivory Is the quiet type, definitely a nervous type too as it shows with her speech going a little out of her control when shes anxious, and the story itself is quiet in many aspects, including the hemlocke family trying to keep the press silent about whitepine's tragedy

but what it isn't quiet is the music

and i cant really explain what i mean unless you see what i'm talking about, so bear with me

starting with the end song of ep 2, larch. like... end songs for the episode to me now are like the silent moments we are given but the inverse. moments that tell us to listen, so that we may know more about the things unsaid, and this song... this song specifically speaks to me of something about tension. a soft kind of tension, one barely building up, a string that is slowly being pulled... because so far this is not really—or at least fully—a murder mystery, because the focus of the narrative is not yet of whoever killed mysti, of finding out who did it

is about grief, and how things just... keep moving, maybe too fast. there hasnt even been a Funeral, the servants were barely given a single day to rest, and her place as a personal maid has been filled in already with ivory. things are moving on, even if an investigation is already going on the back now

which leads me to wych elm. that is Exactly what im talking about here

the music starting sober, slow, then going into a crescendo and for a moment i thought i was maybe reading too much into it, but when i saw even the comments under the video of the song were talking about how this song sounded like grief and overstimulation...

in the scene this song plays, the camera is first on ivory, then a very fast paced cooking scene, but then starts jumping all over the manor. closed doors, parts of the outside, maids and butlers making sure everything is in shape and clean like it has always been. things Keep Happening, two days pass like a flash, the sense of normalcy tinted by how people still feeling the injury of the lost, but the world keeps moving. the signing in the song almost feels like a quiet cry. one you have to just let yourself be even for a moment, because the next you need to go back to work. the world keeps turning and is not going to wait for you and let you grieve. and then the song cuts the moment we are back with the hemlocke.

now the last new song, lacebark pine, at the start of the episode after the interrogations...

besides the sad tone, call me insane, but to me it feels like... longing,

and with how ivory just stares at the forest, where is said many "have gone missing", and how she Immediately goes there the moment no one is looking, even when told not to. how she says she was found in the woods,

this goes well with the last thought i had actually, that i've already been seeing people on youtube making videos of how they "solved" the murder of mysti

and i say to them. maybe you're focusing in the wrong things right now, or maybe, dare i say, you're falling for the distraction of the magician while she hides your card. because if you're focused enough on one thing, maybe something else might slip right behind you without anyone noticing

there's many odd things going on with the whitepine manor, it's history, the people in it, including the servants, the surroundings and ivory. the murder happening there might just be the last drop to finally set things into motion.

tho of course, i'll wait until at least a good 5 eps are out to start trying to see where this is going better, because again, ivory is making a wonderful job setting the tone of whitepine so far, but she herself did say she wanted to take this story slow instead of a more fast paced narrative like how her past videos used to be. so meanwhile, let's just set the table and get ready to eat

let her cook <3