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#I know a lot of what I said isn’t as simple as I made it sound but I just had a lot of thoughts all at once and wanted to share
empresskylo · 11 months
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call of duty ೃ⁀➷ NSFW headcanons
↳ includes: ghost, price, soap, and alejandro.
⋆。°✩ CONTENT WARNINGS | afab!reader, rough sex
cod masterlist | main masterlist
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𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐔𝐓
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Ghost
♡ ghost has a size kink for sure. loves being bigger/taller than you. loves towering over you. loves covering your whole body when he fucks you.
♡ he’s a growler (-: i mean, his voice is just really deep and that in combo with his accent causes him to make growling-esque noises in bed.
♡ but he was really quite quiet when you first fucked. he was used to having to be silent when he jerked off because teammates were always around somewhere. and so he didn’t even realize how quiet he was being until you said something. he was even a bit shy at first but once you showed him how much his sounds got you off, he was glad to oblige and let loose.
♡ he doesn’t like to “choke” you, but he likes to rest his hand around your neck in a firm hold allowing him to hold you steady so he can fuck you deeper.
♡ he’s rather simple. he likes a few basic positions. it gets the job done. he doesn't see the need for any wild or crazy positions when fucking you missionary, doggy style, or against a wall gets both of you off. he will do new stuff with you if you ask tho.
♡ really likes to praise you. he’s got a praise kink but only for being the praiser lol. he loves to tell you how good you feel, how pretty you look, how well you’re taking him. especially when you react to his words, fuck, he loves knowing he can do that to you.
♡ however, when you praise HIM, he gets all flustered and legit fucking blushes! my guy isn’t used to soft compliments, only ones about his combat skills. so when you say sweet things to him like how good he feels, how hot he looks, how turned on he makes you, how perfect he feels inside you, how badly you want him… he blushes. every. time.
♡ professional pussy eater. he very much enjoys going down on you, usually touching himself simultaneously. he’ll yank you to the end of the bed and wrap his arms around your thighs to hold you down. he likes when you ride his face too. he’s been known to get you off like that and make the two of you late. he moans a lot too when you ride his face. loves when you use him to get off and he can't help but moan at that.
♡ he has fucked you with the handle of his knife before and then made you lick it clean.
♡ gets a perverted sense of gratification when he sees you limping after fucking you senseless.
♡ has a breeding kink. he accidentally let it slip one day when he was fucking you, just about to come, when he moaned out in strained breaths “i need. to fucking. breed you.” (my brain: *414 error*) it doesn’t necessarily mean he wants kids, but he just loves the idea of getting you pregnant/coming inside you/breeding you.
♡ definitely a dom. but can be a sub when need be. he wasn’t sure about being submissive at first, but he’s learned to love it. he likes when you boss him around and tell him what you want. even likes it when you edge him and don’t let him finish, dragging it out painfully. but that’s only occasionally, he usually likes to be the one in control.
♡ comes the hardest when you tell him you love him as you're orgasming. he's a romantic at heart.
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Price
♡ daddy kink.. i mean… com’on! he gets flustered as fuck when you call him that in public. usually, you’ll say it quietly or whisper it to him. it’s a rare sight to see Price so flustered. and he definitely punishes you when you get home. (that’s if you even make it home. as long as no one can see, he’ll fuck you anywhere)
♡ wants a video of you for when he’s away. you were shy at first so he just recorded your lower half while he was fucking you, the only thing visible was where your bodies were connecting. but he could hear all your moans in the video and that was plenty for him. he’s watched the video countless times.
♡ keeps a naughty polaroid of you in his wallet
♡ reallyyy likes to go down on you. he would spend the rest of his life between your thighs if he could.
♡ loves to tease you and make you beg. he’ll have you on your knees, begging him to fuck you. and of course that gives the cheeky bastard an aura of arrogance, but it’s hot on him so its ok.
♡ he specifically likes to tease you while you’re training together. watching the way you get flustered and try to ignore his innuendos and subtle hand movements on the more intimate parts of your body. then, when he has you alone, he’ll make it seem like you were the one causing all the distractions. he’ll stay fully clothed and strip you down, fingering you while you stifle your moans. “this why you were distracted today, love? thinkin’ bout my fingers inside of you?” (when, in fact, you were trying to train and he was the one being all cheeky)
♡ over the clothes... he is fond of letting you ride his thigh, both of you fully clothed (that, or you're in underwear and he's fully clothed). sometimes he'll fuck you with everything on, dry humping you so aggressively that you come harder than you ever have. my guy is good at what he does.
♡ quite intense and intimidating when having sex. he's demanding in a way that makes you nervous and embarrassed. always making you say things that make your face heat. "is this want you want, pretty girl? gonna have to say it. unless you want me to stop?" "tell me what you want, love. use your words." "you want me? where? gotta spell it out for me."
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Soap
♡ doesn’t love the fact that you might get off to porn when he's not around, so he sends you audios of him jerking off, whining and moaning loudly for you. he gets so turned on when you tell him you got off to his video.
♡ likes to switch between being dominant and submissive. he’ll fuck you hard and fast, make you beg, tell you what to do, and edge you until you’re a crying mess. but he also likes it when you take control, riding him and stopping just as he’s about to finish, making him whine and whimper as you suck his dick, not letting him touch you as you tease him mercilessly, likes when you wrap your hand around his neck as you ride him.
♡ likes when you scratch him up. he wears all the marks you give him proudly and secretly likes being teased by the guys about it. he'll even tell you to be rougher on him. "bite down, love, I can take it."
♡ loves blowjobs. and loves finishing on your face with your tongue out. he finds it so hot when you lick your lips, his cum dripping down your chin.
♡ likes to be slow and gentle with you, dragging it out. he wants to take his time with you. and he'll do whatever you say or want. he's constantly making sure you're doing good or you like what he's doing. Sometimes you end up getting a bit frustrated, "yes, johnny, that feels fucking fantastic, now shut up and fuck me!" "yes, ma'am!"
♡ aftercare involves cleaning you up. taking a shower together. lame jokes. braiding your hair. giving you his sweatshirt to wear. and spooning you.
♡ almost came in his pants the first time he saw you in sexy lingerie that you bought just for his viewing pleasure.
♡ has a slight oral fixation and likes to keep his mouth busy the entire time. he's always kissing or nipping somewhere on you. he loves kissing your neck, jaw, chest, just anywhere really. he often groans into the kisses, making you swallow them.
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Alejandro
♡ "if you're a good girl and don't come until i tell you, i'll make you come over and over again"
♡ for some reason, he likes to leave hickeys on your inner thighs, teasing you mercilessly as he kisses you everywhere below your hips except where you need him most.
♡ he lives for teasing. he wants you a withering mess before he even considers giving you what you need. will have you crying because of how bad you want him. those are his favorite tears from you.
♡ he will overstimulate the fuck outta you too. you come at least 3 times every time you fuck. and he'll threaten to keep going, your core throbbing in painful overstimulation, unless you do exactly as he says.
♡ leaves bruises and scratch marks all over you. but he also expects the same in return. both of you look like you got into a gnarly brawl every time you fuck. "jesus christ, were you two fucking in there or wrestling a wild bear?"
♡ he is amazing at aftercare, a big switch up from the dominant, rough sex. he'll clean you up while muttering little praises. he'll carry you to the bathroom, sometimes taking a warm bath with you and washing your hair. he'll get you situated into clean comfy clothes and curl you up into him in bed. whatever you need, he'll do.
♡ likes the thrill of getting caught. he doesn't actually want to get caught, but it's the rush of it all. he's down to fuck anywhere. he's sneaky too and can be really subtle about touching you under the table, or in a dark corner of the bar, or on the roof while you're on watch duty. but he definitely prefers when you can both let loose and be loud.
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jyoongim · 2 months
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Heyyy, it’s me again, the singer anon. Can I request an Alastor x Reader where she is sent by as a spy by Vox after our fav slithery boy failed? She’s really bubbly and friendly, but she eventually grows to care for everyone in the hotel but Vox owns her soul. She torn in between getting herself killed by him and not betraying anyone anymore, or continuing the job. She goes and confesses to Alastor, breaking down and thinking he’ll kill her, which she thinks would be best so she doesn’t have to betray anyone anymore. Just breaking down in tears telling him she doesn’t want to hurt anyone but Vox has her under a contract, begging him to kill her so she doesn’t have to. Just for Alastor to call her a good girl and ughhhh some possessive smut if you don’t mind? Sorry brain rots in my head and I’m in love with him, lol. Thank you! <3 also the three requests story set off the trigger in my head, loved it! Thanks again! <3!
This been in my inbox for weeks and i finally got a plot for it!
⚠️warning: 18+! Smut smut smut! Plot if you look hard enough!
—————————————————————————————
No one suspected a thing.
You were sent to the Hazbin Hotel after Sir Pentious miserable attempt.
Your orders were simple: ”Keep an eye out on that old fossil. I want to know why that fucker is sucking up the Lucifer’s daughter”
And you did just that…you were executing your mission flawlessly.
Until you began to care about those who stayed at the hotel.
Until you began to grow closer to the Radio Demon.
————————————————————————————
You had been staying at the hotel for a few months now and its been great!
Charlie was always finding new ways to help the residents build bonds and encouraging everyone to do their best.
At first, you were arrogant, playing along until you actually saw the the demons there were actually changing even if they didn’t admit it
But now, you thought of the princess as a friend, along with everyone else.
Especially Alastor.
Now that you’ve been around him, you’re not sure why Vox hate the demon so much.
Alastor was funny, kind (in his own twisted way), and truly looked after the hotel.
A soft smile curled on your lips as you thought about the demon, but the ringing of your phone interrupted such thoughts.
Vox.
You took a deep breath and answered “H-Hello?”
”Tonight’s your chance to take out that prick and after that come home” he demanded.
You blinked “what? B-but Vox…” you bit your lips “But it’s actually nice here. The hotel isn’t a scam…a-and everyone is a lot nicer than we thought ” Vox laughed “Oh baby please! Nice? You actually believe in that redemption crap? You think that they’ll let you stay if they knew why you truly were there? Hahaha! Oh my dumb little girl, how naive you are. ” 
You pouted, a frown on your face “I want to stay”
Vox growled through the phone “ah ah baby you don’t make demands remember?” 
Electrical shocks ran through your body from the collar you wore.
You gasped in pain “I OWN you. Did you forget that? You do whatever I say when I say it. Now I expect you home before morning or I will kill you.”
The phone call ended and you were in tears.
You didn’t want to go back. 
You liked being at the hotel and able to be yourself. 
You liked the friends you had made here.
You would do anything for them, even if you had to die to make your wrongs right.
————————————————————————
“Come in” the voice answered after you knocked on the door. You were sweating as you stood outside of Alastor’s door.
You had decided that if you were going to tell anyone why you were at the hotel, it would be Alastor.
You opened the door and walked into his radio studio.
”Hey Al” you said weakly as the demon spun around and smiled at you “Hello darlin! What do I owe the pleasure?”
You fiddled with your hands.
”I want to tell you why I came to the hotel”
Alastor quirked a eyebrow, smile widening as he gestured for you to take a seat on the couch.
”Do entertain me of your tale my dear”
You were in tears by the time you finished telling Alastor everything.
Of Vox and his plan.
The deal between you and Vox.
The reason you came to the hotel.
Everything.
”I-I’m sorry! So so sorry! I-I just didn’t know what to do!
Kill me! I deserve it! J-Just let me say my goodbyes first. I would rather you kill me than Vox! Please!” You cried, hands covering your face as you sobbed.
Alastor had been quiet for the entirety of your confession. He had half a mind to kill you when you told him of your deal with Vox.
The pesky television didn’t know when to mind his business.
His eyes focused on the collar around your neck.
 You were Vox’s and by contract, he wasn’t allowed to kill you.
And he wasn’t. No he had grown accustom to the pretty demon who seemed to light the hotel’s halls.
However…he could override Vox’s ownership of your soul.
You flinched when you felt a large hand pat the top of your head. You looked up through teary eyes ay Alastor, who just sported a soft smile.
”Now now my dear don’t you worry. I appreciate that you came to and confided in me. What a good girl you are.” His smile stretched as you sniffled, looking at him with glossy eyes.
”Y-Youre not g-gonna k-kill me?” You asked looking down.
He chuckled as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, claws finding their way under your chin to make you look at him
He rolled his eyes ”Oooh my dear of course not…” His fingers trailed down your neck, toying with your collar. “But I am in a bit of predicament”
You wiped at your eyes “how so?”
“Under normal circumstances, I would rip you to shreds and broadcast your screams for all of Hell to hear” his pupils turned to dials and his smiled turned wicked. You felt your heart stop a little.
He calmed down slightly “however I have another idea to break your deal with Vox” 
He smiled at you as you tilted your head in confusion.
”I know just the thing hehehe”
————————————————————————————
You whimpered as you tried to hold yourself up against the force of Alastor’s thrusts. “A-Al!” You whined as the demon tugged your hair to pull your body into his. A deep growl vibrated through you as Alastor sunk into your weeping heat, his cock hitting that soft spot inside you.
“Fuuuucckk!” You hissed, eyes rolling into your skull as your body buzzed with pleasure.
Alastor pulled your body til your back was flushed against his chest, his sharp teeth nipped at your skin before latching on and marking you. You winced as his tongue lapped at the blood, he purred as trailed his tongue up your neck.
”To think Vox had such a sweet cunt all to himself. Ooh darlin you’re wasted on him. But you’ll be a good girl for me wont you? You seem to love having a real cock fucking you” he chortled, giving you a harsh thrust. His hips grinded up into your ass, coaxing your cunt to take every inch over and over.
Your gummy walls tightened around him as you whined at his words. You could barely focus on what he was saying, not giving two shits either as he bullied your insides.
”I-I can be a good girl please please oh fuck! Aah! Aah!” You whined. Alastor’s large hands trailed up your body; kneading, pawing, and squeezing at your supple flesh. Pausing at your bouncing tits to tweak your hardened nipples, sending currents to your abandoned clit.
“I know you will baby” 
He nudges his head into yours, to gain your attention and capture your lips with his, swallowing your moans as one of his hands moves down to toy with your puffy clit.
Your body jerked as he rubbed tight circles on the bud; your cunt fluttering as slick dripped down your thighs.
”Ill make a deal with you darlin” he whispered against your lips, lidded eyes staring into yours, as you mewled, wanting his tongue back down your throat. 
“I keep this little mishap under wraps and in return you belong to me. Youre free to do whatever your heart but im no pushover m,a cherie.”
His thrusts sped up as he pinched your clit.
You keened, pushing your hips back into his, trying to follow the motion of his fingers, seeking to reach your orgasm.
”Do we have a deal?” He purred never breaking his pace.
Your collar let out blue sparks, Vox’s way of ‘reinforcing’ his control over you. You whimpered as the shocks edged you, but Alastor let out a deep growl as he wrapped his claws around the collar.
”Do we have a deal?” A snap of his hips pulled a moan from your throat.
”oh! Yes! Yes! F-fuuuc-cckk”
Static ran through your body causing you to jerk as your orgasm washed over you, your collar fizzled out as Alastor’s cock pounded your cunt, riding your orgasm out.
The wet SQUELCH! Of your cunt echoed as high pitched whines left your throat. 
“That’s a good girl. Cummin all over my cock. Feels better than that robot huh? Yeeesss fuck! Take my cum darlin take it”
Your eyes crossed as your mouth opened in a scream. Alastor crashed his lips on yours, tongue pushing through your lips and pulling you into a heated kiss as he pumped you full of his cum.
Alastor let out a sigh as he slipped out of you, cock coated in creamy essence and smiling as he watched your cunt clench around nothing and dripping cum.
In your dazed state, you faintly heard a snap and a cool sensation coated your neck.
Instead of the sapphire jeweled collar, a gold chained ruby hung from your neck.
Alastor hummed as he rubbed your tired body, smiling wickedly as he slotted back into your soppy heat. You moaned softly as he rolled his hips against you.
”now lets send that mediocre podcast a proper video”
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deadghosy · 2 months
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How would (Separate) Hazbin hotel (Demons &Angel) react to a green thumb gardener whose elegant, classy and attractive and she went to hell by mistake but it was a happy one (She's not completely weak as she has her plant to protect her and everything)
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HAZBIN HOTEL X GARDENER! READER
prompt: a common mistake made demons and angels swoon over a gardener who just wants to take care of her/his plants
cw! Sir Pentious is alive for this so he can witness your beauty in flowers💗
note! I listened to Lana Del Rey while making this lol.
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HELL
You didn’t know you were supposed to be in heaven as you started your own flower shop. It was the biggest know hell flower store with actual flowers.
You were practically poison ivy, but more kind and definitely calmer. Hell, even some of your regulars call you poison ivy. Mostly because if people touch you metaphorically the wrong way, then you technically show them a harsher side of you. Literally, a plant impaled a sinner trying to rob your store. 
What you didn’t except to get friends or even people interested into you as you just have a normal as shop you dreamed of before dying.
“Welcome to my flower shop, what can I help you with?” You said with a soft smile as a flower vine is watering other flowers in the background. Some imps, sinners, and hell borns go all the way to just see you and your flowers.
I can see you wearing a flower crown or just flowers in your hair. Like dead ass giving rapunzel. Possibly so, your alive flowers and vines had made that for you as you worked.
You most definitely wear those cute gardening outfits like overalls or those dresses if you prefer one of them or both.
See this is what I can imagine, I can imagine the whole damn hotel having a flower competition and you show up with a big ass plant with a neat pink bow on it 😭. You definitely had a smile as you drank tea with a secret smirk.
I can see you visiting the hotel Charlie has as she invited you to do some flower decor for a reopening of the hotel.
Imagine how pissed you were when a couple of sinners came in to make your shop look like shit. But you wasn’t gonna stand for it as you raised your hand grabbing the sinners by their necks with vines. “If you want flowers, I wouldn’t mind making you a funeral for you to have some.” You said with venom as the sinner practically shitted themselves as they were thrown out the windows of your shop.
A sinner had thrown a Molotov cocktail once in your shop all because he thought it was weird to have a “girly” flower shop in hell. As the fire spreads in your shop, you sighed having plant vines cover you in a big ball as one of the vine slither to find the culprit. After finding the culprit, you forced them to clean your shop since killing someone for such a petty crime like that in your opinion isn’t worth killing. You can always make a new shop and fix it.
Vaggie most definitely knows you as you hooked her up with flowers that Charlie might like. You told her Charlie seems like a simple girl would just like roses since they represent romance. And basically it was Vaggie and Charlie’s date night. And it was a success.
Angel dust loves how you don’t judge him for who he is by his work. But he definitely loves how you two gossip over some tea, well he drinks while you drink tea or water. You are like an older sister/brother figure to him. He loves resting in your bean bag you have in the back, he could just come in and and lay down straight.
I headcannon your whole palette to be like green, pink, yellow and white. Literally just spring ass colors to seem classy with your flower shop.
I can imagine you having the personality of applejack but more of a flower and gardening person as gardener! Reader were most definitely born in the south. Like I can imagine reader to be a mix of applejack, rarity, fluttershy but 100% of applejack’s honesty and a lot of Rarity’s elegance.
Niffty adores you! Literally she goes in your store to rant about she wants the hotel to smell fresh and ready. And you hook a sista up with how you give her scented plug in. She immediately starts worshipping you like Alastor which makes Alastor raise a brow seeing a shine of you in her room and drawings of you.
Charlie immediately loves how vaggie and angel ador you and find you as a loyal friend. She would love to have you at the hotel as a resident. She could even beg Alastor or her dad to make a flower shop for you to even stay longer by briding. She would also try to become your friend for her to succeed.
Sir Pentious went to your store to apologize again to Alastor as he felt that Alastor didn’t forgave him. He was scared you weren’t a kind “sinner” that only had a flower shop to scam people for their money. But when you spoke with kindness and care towards the snake demon. He felt calm in your presence, to the point when he got his flowers. He gave you one which made you smile at him and put it in your hair. He blushed and ran off.
The egg boiz love too appear in your store as their boss, penthouse is very nervous to talk to such an attractive person like you. You welcome the eggz to your humble store as you give them flowers to give back to the hotel staffs.
Angel and Cherri most definitely asked you to give them flowers to match their personality. You gave them both a Carnation flower which you thought was good for their personality. Or even a Lilly.
Husk kept seeing the crew leave the hotel to see them come back with flowers. He grumble confused at why they kept getting flowers. That is until he asked Charlie, and Charlie ranted about what a beauty and how kind you are. Husk raised a brow thinking you were putting up an act, so he went to see you. Let’s just say he got a rose coming back with a soft smile and a purr.
The Vee’s heard about you, Vox heard about you first and looked you up to see you are a popular florist and gardener with the power of Chlorokinesis. The power to mentally and physically control flowers. Vox smirked hearing about your 5 star rating shop. If it was that high ranked with people commenting it on yelp saying you were the best business to be at. You definitely got his attention at most.
Lucifer went to your store for some flowers to give to his daughter, and when he heard how amazing your store was. He went to se it himself. He definitely felt your pure spirit making him stumble into confusion on why you weren’t in heaven already. But he got his flowers and felt with a cup of tea you gave him. He shortly came back at the end of the day to give you his own flowers as he smiled with a snake smile and left leaving a note that says, “you’re welcome to come stay at the hotel! :)”
Alastor finally decided to meet you after hearing all the good things you did for the hotel and for the staff. He must say he was jealous how you won their hearts so damn quickly. He went to your store to see what’s all the fuss about and got hit with a lavender scent in his nose. He covered it as he wasn’t use to such sweet smell in hell as it’s filled with fire and blood. And there you were sitting there with a smile as warm plate of teas sat by you. You welcomed him as he made chat with you to find your heart pure with gold. He also left with a rose and a genuine smile.
I imagine how sweet you get your own flowers by regulars and your friends at the hotel as they love your passion about plants.
Headcannon on Gardner! Reader to be a Lana Del Rey fan as the song to match her/him is “born to die” 💗🦆
Vox was obviously the first Vee to meet you face to face as he had researched you so many times on the internet to get any scoop of you to only end up with an empty hand. So he decided to see you in person and smile with a charming one to see you greet him with a smile and show him the recommended flowers for loved one and family. He was not into the flowers as he watched the plant vines in the back work like hands. He smirks trying to use his hypnosis, but failed greatly as a flower in a vase covered his sighting of you. Thanks to your plant vines.
Velvette was the second one to come to your store as she was not impressed at how “boring and plain” it was in your shop. She was snarky about the decor and gave you tips on how to make it “pop” in here. You just smiled, and with a snap of your fingers, the decor changed to a more fashionable flower place. It made the female Vee almost drop her jaw and composure. But she can’t let some flower store shock her. So she left with one last snarky comment under her breath.
Valentino definitely came in last to see what was up with your whole popularity of your “business” of flowers as he was so busy working his porn industry. So when he walked in yo see you reaching for some flower seeds to get for a customer. He grabbed your waist, wanting to seem flirty only for it to backfire as a vine punches him away from you. You already knew who this bastard was, and you weren’t gonna let him get you like how he got angel. So during his entire visit at your shop, you made it a living hell. Literally.
I can see the Vee’s coming back every weekday to try and get you to be their little flower pet, but you ain’t buying it. 😘
You most definitely have a vine hammock in the corner of your store as you just sit there and nap during your breaks.
Imagine how cool and sweet you are to the imp and hell born children that come to visit your store for father day and mother day. Hell, even valentines days
I can headcannon that gardener! Reader has once in their hell life down there had to drag out a rude Karen ass bitch by their hair. You fuck with their plants, you fuck with them.
Imagine how chill you are just sipping tea as your plants and vines attack some dude trying to steal your sunflower seeds. Yeah, no one gets out without being traumatized by plants 😍
You came into the hotel once and immediately got love bombed by everyone. But not in a manipulate way, they just appreciate how amazing you are to people even the staff at most. They go as far to throw you a “welcoming” party 💗
Lucifer had most definitely sent ducks with mini flower crowns and a Gardner duck to you as he finds you very elegant and beautiful in your own way. He even accidentally tries to court you with his wings when he leans against at the front desk of your store staring into your eyes.
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HEAVEN
Adam had eventually was sent to take you back into heaven as sera realized her mistake. You willingly went with Adam who smirked at your sweet smile and took you up by your hand. Like, let’s say whatever happened in the hell section didn’t happen as you just had a bad time in hell itself.
St. Peter immediately greets you, making feel welcome to your new home. He even baked you cookies with a smiley face. He tries to make chit chat with you when he isn’t on duty getting people into the gates. He literally visits your workplace in the flower store you own, bringing cookies, making sure you are okay. Hell-, I meannn heaven gods..he must be a househusband cause GYATT DAMN this man is making sure you are well and healthy in heaven’s care. 💗💗
Sera most definitely have showed you around heaven with a please smile to see a Gardner. You would’ve been great for the Garden of Eden, is what she says in her head as you smile at the trees and potted plants around. You even showed the seraphim your powers, and she must say that she was pleased and made you a gardener around heaven and even your own garden shop and house.
Emily most definitely tries to go visit you everyday to try and find flowers that match you so you can be surprise when she buys you flowers herself. You and Emily definitely have a sibling relationship at most because of how she looks up to you in a gardening way as she also wants to impress you by making her own garden and green house. She also makes sure you take breaks as she wants to help with the customers as you take a break in the back. Your friendship with her is so wholesome and lovely.
Adam likes how classy you are, you don’t even cuss him out when you are angry at him. You just put your hand in his face and walk away. Sassy, but classy enough to not curse someone the fuck out. Yeah sure that might’ve turned him on a bit at how hot and “bitchy” that was of you. Cause no one has ever rejected the “Dickmaster”. So it was his duty to make you his friend…sorta😨. But it’s all fun and games at how you guys are like frenemies at most since Adam actually can’t stand you, but still flirts at how attractive and kind you are. Hell even strong minded.
The angels absolutely love coming in your store! They find every single plant and flower you made incredible. You practically almost run out of business when it’s Valentine’s Day, Mother’s Day, and Father’s Day. But you can’t complain when they leave so much heaven bucks for you to get more plant seeds and such. The angels also love how pure of gold your heart is as you even give some off free for the heaven borns and winners.
Big headcannon on how your Gardner outfit in heaven, the palette is a soft green and pink pastel. But Adam and Sera had thought about you wearing a gold, white, and blue type of Gardner outfit. They want you to stay pure and mighty.
OOOH IMAGINE HAVING CUTE ASS WHITE GLOVES 😭😭 LIKE THEY HAVE THOSE STITCHED IN GOLD THREADS AND LIKE THEY ARE SO CUTE AND COMFY INSIDEEE💗💗
Since i headcannon that Gardner! Reader to be a damn Lana Del Rey fan, their song that matches them in heaven is “young and beautiful.” As you are young and beautiful and mostly, you’re in heaven.
Literally imagine Adam just shows up to just degrade you, but it doesn’t work as you just sit there reading your daily newspaper or on your phone to just see plant and gardening instagram from earth and heaven. Adam pouts or even scoffs before taking your phone and acting like a fussy cat wanting attention.
You really don’t give a fuck about Adam but he definitely gives a fuck about you.
The angels sometimes ships you with Adam, but they also ship you with st.peter at how he is basically the house husband and you are the girl boss who works their ass off😭
Lute and Adam are definitely the type to be those teens who visit their local market..dead ass when they are free they just come to your store and just start “window shopping”…but really they just either want to mess with you or actually know about your day.
I can see you literally just chilling, and Adam busts open the store door that has that jingle bell on it so harsh and all he says is. “Wassup bitch!” With his usual grin and a soda cup as you just groan annoyed.
St.peter literally tried to work beside you ok his days off to just see how “calming” your job is. Until rush hour comes😭 that’s when hell itself unleashes with people wanting to grab any scented flower candles and flowers for theirselves. Have mercy on Peter’s soul that he doesn’t get grabbed and clawed all because he said that the last product was in the back. 😭😭
Imagine how cute your damn angel wings must be. Cause I imagine them to be some god damn fairy wings to match a beautiful aesthetic with your flower and gardening store.
I headcannon you actually had thrown Adam like how vaggie thrown the staff like in the episode of “scramble eggs.”
lol I can see you just slapping Adam with your plant vine because of one misogynist joke he made. He had the most whip lashed mark on his face. He stopped making those fücking jokes like that as he just flinches as a vine comes near him. “WALK HIM LIKE A DOGGG!!” 😘😍
Sera loves gaining flowers from you as the angelic guards bring them in as she is doing her work.
Emily also feels the same way as she smiles and makes the guard send you flowers as well for a thank you. 💗🥺 please give this sweet baby a note back saying you appreciate her damn note so much..
Imagine having a whole tea and cookie station by your front desk where people pay. Like they get a nice drink and a snack in case they were hungry and thirsty from their trip to here. 😘☀️ you care about your customers and regulars deeply.
St. Peter had one time mistook the glass doors to be opened and fell back so dramatically onto his ass, he might as well confirm himself as dead 💀
Emily most definitely actually tried to grow a plant or flower to show you how much she learnt from you, only for the damn thing to fail. She wanted to cry and shrivel up in disappointment, but you taught her and help fixed her mistake on what she did at most.
Lute most definitely acts better without Adam, of course she could act better with Adam. It’s just that Adam is her home dog, and she is Adam’s homegirl. So of course they are besties. So with Adam not interfering with you and lute talking one on one for the first time. You two get quite long to the point she grabs your hands and smile. Leaving with a flower you gave her.
Your plants just causally changing into the liked flower of the customer or regular due to your plant magic on sensing what flowers they like supposedly💗
Headcannon on how short you are. Literally you are shorter than lute to Adam and Emily. It’s really funny but to you, it’s annoying asf since Adam picks you up like a stray cat found at the front porch ready to be taken in.
Emily and sera would have tea time with you definitely. Or coffee if they prefer. You don’t gossip of course but just lift each other up and talk about hanging out later in the days or weeks later. Heck even the day later maybe if Emily is very eager.
Lute most definitely had thrown flowers in your face as she isn’t use to showing affection towards a person she actually admires. Yeah she admires Adam, as a boss and best friend. But there is something about you that makes her stumble on her words.
You had to actually stay home once, forced by sera who got told by Adam you were overworking yourself. Adam and sera hated it as sera showed go to your job looking serious. Forcing you to stay in bed until you had a good sleep for the week.
Imagine just gardener! Reader literally accidentally making Adam spit out a four leaf clover as they were saying a spell in Latin to have four leaf clovers for St. Patrick’s day.
I headcannon Adam sometimes tries to court you with his wings, and you are confused as hell as you aren’t use to being courted by some fucking feathers.
I can see you having a potted plant pet beside you. It was practically a sapling as it smiled with heaven magic and told positive affirmations to waking customers. It’s so fuckin adorable
I imagine you just sleeping as your overworked at your store and Adam comes in pissed off you didn’t come home. So he literally picks you up over his shoulder and walks Home. He has the damn key to your house but he decides to just go to his house and lay you on his bed as he sleeps on the couch grumbling.
St.Peter, after that little incident with him walking into a glass door. This mofo literally puts his hands out towards any glass door 😭 like a little kid being traumatized after a glass maze. It’s so funny but so sad.
A young heaven born had brought you back a freaking flower crown in your most favorite flowers and you were so amazed. You gave the small little angel a flower crown of their own.
The visits are always welcomed to your store as Adam brings you his own set of flowers to try to impress you. 💗 you snickered seeing the note that says, “i hope you like it..bitch. *middle finger drawing* I heard this plant was your favorite.” Sweet, but sour ass motherfuker. 😭😭
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astarion-obsessions · 7 months
Text
Hold on, there is something I thought about. When Astarion approached Tav with "all his favourite lines" of flattery, leading to fake confessing his love to them, I was genuinely hurt to see that he would play with Tav's feelings like that, just for the sake of entertainment.
But now that their relationship progressed and Astarion actually confessed that he developed feelings for Tav, but still claims to not know how he would define their relationship, I get the feeling that he made the choice to fake confess beforehand for another reason than entertainment or seduction altogether. Hear me out.
Why does Astarion fake confess his love to Tav?
When I get a scene with Astarion, I always reload a thousand times to try out all the routes and see all his reactions, so what I'm about to break down will be no less than heartbreaking.
First let's take a look at what Astarion has to say. He starts the conversation with a clear goal in mind: he wants to seduce us again and he says so right away. He continues with very openly displaying his skills at charming people with honeyed words, seemingly enjoying himself while doing so. But what we have to keep in mind is that he's done that thousands and thousands of times already. I think it's safe to assume that he's perfected this mask of a smug, flirtatious man enjoying all this debauchery. 
But after giving us one suggestive line after another, he does something that does not match the tone of the conversation so far: his fake love confession. I mean, just look at him. 
He goes from completely exaggerated facial expressions and gestures: 
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When I'm with you, I feel practically alive, yet I crave only to die again with you.
To this:
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I love you
We get a closeup of his face and see that he gets serious all of a sudden despite the fact that the conversation has been all fun and flirty just a moment ago. He draws his brows together, tells Tav "I love you" and then just looks at us with this serious and almost sad expression. Completely different from before when he was just toying around. 
And yes, I just said he's very practiced in playing pretend, but just the difference between shallow and cheesy lines about craving to die together and their perfect body whispering temptation in contrast to a simple "I love you" and then on top of that the difference on how he conveys it - for me it just doesn't fit together, this isn’t Astarion pretending. And furthermore he gains nothing from adding this confession. The flirty lines would have been enough to seduce Tav once again and therefore ensure their attachment to him, so that his protection is granted. And that is all he wants, at least in the beginning. 
But then, why would he voice this fake confession in the first place? And that's where my theory sets in. I don't think he would risk the trouble of getting more feelings involved than necessary in his "nice simple plan" - seducing Tav, sleeping with them, manipulating their feelings. For doing so, he simply wouldn't need a love confession. 
With saying "How about I say those little words. Everyone's favourite" he already suggests that he's said them to a lot of people already. And this surely is a way to charm and seduce people very fast, but with Tav he doesn't need to rush. They're tied together for an indefinite amount of time, he doesn't need to seduce them in a matter of hours or days before serving them to his master. And he's already seduced Tav successfully before, so my guess is this:
My explanation for the fake confession
The real confession scene, where he admits to having started to genuinely feel something for Tav, came a bit out of nowhere for me. (And don't get me started with our options to react to his real confession. I talked about that here.) I don’t think he would just willingly tell Tav that he's grown fond of them, when a few nights before he threw the fake confession their way without giving a damn about Tav's feelings - that just felt very out of character for him in my opinion. 
But what if he started to fall in love with Tav even before the fake confession? Think about it, he has slept with Tav once - successfully seduced - so all he has to do is sustain this kind of relationship. Saying all his favourite lines at Tav and trying to get them to sleep with each other for a second time would have been just that - sustaining the relationship at present. But then he says "I love you". And I say he does so purposefully. It's a test. Having someone like you enough to sleep with you is one thing. Having deep and complex feelings like love involved is something else entirely. So he tests the waters with this confession. He hides behind all of these flirtatious lines and places the confession at their end to throw a veil over its real meaning. 
It may be a lie either way - saying it just for entertainment or saying it to see if Tav is open for deeper feelings - but I think he exaggerates on purpose to trigger a reaction that speaks for itself. Does Tav care about these words? Is Tav hurt to see that Astarion is apparently willing to play with their feelings like this? Or do they not care about such vanities? 
I want to emphasise the fact that Astarion hasn't had the luxury to allow himself anything resembling these kinds of feelings for at least two centuries. Naturally, he would not just come around and open up his heart to Tav when all he's done until then was charming them just for his plan. He would want to reassure himself that this wouldn't turn against him if he dares to show such great vulnerability in front of anyone. He says it himself when he properly confesses that it is intimidating for him to make decisions on his own again. And confessing his feelings is exactly one of those intimidating decisions.  
Interpreting Astarion's reaction
To back up my take I want to take a closer look at Astarion's reaction when we reject him after the fake confession. After he laughs the confession off in one way or the other, he insists on having sex with you again. Here he sticks to exaggerated facial expressions and gestures, just like before with his honeyed words.
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Now, as much as I relish standing around and saying all my favourite lines at you, I’d much rather we got to experience each others’ full portfolio of talents once again.
But if Tav then turns him down with saying “I don’t think I really want this”, this is his immediate reaction:
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Well, well, excuse me while I die of a broken heart.
He takes a few seconds to process what Tav said, and then instantly responds with another exaggeration accompanied by fitting gesticulation, ending with a fake smile. After that he just looks at Tav for another few seconds and his demeanor changes again:
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In all honesty, it's a shame. That time was special to me. I've gotten on my back ten thousand times or more, and forgotten half of them. 
He loses his fake smile, averts his gaze and starts fumbling with his hands nervously. He can't hide his disappointment, but he tries to keep his face neutral - even if it doesn't work all too well. He tells us we were special before giving us a scrunched fake smile once again. It's really hard to watch…
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But you… you I'll remember. 
For usually being rather quick to react and respond, we can see how difficult it is for him to react to Tav in this case.
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Have a fine evening, dear. 
He pauses yet again, lifts his gaze to the sky and just looks so lost. Mere moments ago he was flirting and laughing, and now he seems so utterly desperate. And then, he can't even keep up his attempts of masking his sadness when his expression slips in the end and his face scrunches painfully for just a second before the whole scene ends. This really broke my heart.
Conclusion
This is definitely not the reaction of someone who was turned down for just another round of sex - even if this meant that Astarion's plan of assuring his safety didn't work out. Because then he could have just tried to get Tav to change their mind with another one of his favourite lines. Or he would have at least reacted like he does when you tell him to stay at the camp ("Oh darling, I'm hurt" which he obviously isn't). But he doesn't. 
Because this is the reaction of someone who dared to get his hopes up. Someone who thought that maybe, just maybe, these unwanted, complicated feelings for Tav which had slowly crept up, nullifying his nice simple plan, could genuinely lead to a relationship he didn't know he needed so desperately. Someone who is so devastated by a rejection at this point, that he doesn't even question it. He just accepts that Tav isn't interested in sleeping with him, let alone having feelings beyond sexual desire. It's just as it always has been. It's not as if Astarion remembers anyone caring about him, so why should it be different this time… 
And that's why I think this whole fake love confession was a way for Astarion to veil his growing feelings for Tav under the pretence of flirting, and had the purpose to find out if he could more or less safely confess his true feelings to Tav. 
Gods, this is so heartbreaking. I need to pat Astarion's fluffy head in my dreams as a redemption. 
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capslocked · 8 months
Text
DIPLOMACY
male reader x kim minju
7k words
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For those not paying attention - of which there seems to be an increasing number - it’s not that she doesn’t have the pedigree. But just shy of getting into that storied history or into the nitty-gritty of her curriculum vitae, the only thing that really matters is:
"This all seems a little beneath me." 
It’s another day of this. Of you, of her, of trying to gather the mien of someone who isn’t utterly disarmed by Minju’s usual, beautiful, challenging self. Which, let’s be honest, is always an uphill battle.
Minju nearly pouts, flipping through a copy of the dossier idly from the other side of the desk in a gesture that reads both bored and dismissive and every little thing it needs to annoy you.
"Look," you offer up, graciously diplomatic all things considered, "it's about finding the right springboard, to something else more… substantial."
"Or to something else, you know, beneath me." Her red lips turn down ever so slightly. She doesn't seem so interested in playing ball on this one. And, for you, amounts to something of a huge problem.
See, Minju doesn't quite understand how the working world really, actually works. That the carrot that's dangled in front of her is your carrot just as much as it is hers - that you stand to lose out just as badly. That it's both of your asses on the line if things fall apart and Minju's shortsighted insistence to only work those certain roles befitting a name like hers puts that all at risk.
"Maybe you can tell me something,” you start, coming across more curt than you possibly intended - but not by much, “how many of your former cohorts have had their career aspirations line up with reality, Miss Kim?"
“I’m picky, not naive,” she sighs, not missing a beat, and you watch her dark hair cascade gently down her shoulder when she reaches a hand back to unfix her loose ponytail from its hair clip.
“You might see how I can get the two confused.”
“Then spare me the lecture,” says Minju.
Though she says nothing else, an unspoken you already get paid too much for that hangs in the air.
The tricky part is that no matter what else Minju does, her contract has some non-negotiable clauses to them that no talent has before, or will likely get afterwards. Things that cannot be broken. Like the requirement of her making x number of media appearances, and she gets to approve all of them.
Or that her agent's take home comes from a fixed fifteen percent of her gross earnings, with further incentives when her roles hit specific milestones. But with her refusing projects like the ones in the dossier before you, it leaves you in the unenviable position of losing out on your guaranteed fixed income or trying to convince your diva talent to do what it is she ought to be doing.
The truth is that there’s quite a long list of things no one has had the guts to say ‘no’ to yet.
And, well, it's rather simple and obvious when you look at her:
Minju is that particular blend of A-lister gorgeous. The special look that’s all kinds of mesmerizing and magnetizing, in full bloom - that makes you feel like you're suffocating in beauty. Like if she said come here, you would go; the type where a single look is all it takes and then - just like that - she's got your number forever.
Because everything about her is tailored - from her clothes to her perfect porcelain features. And they made her that way for a purpose: to sell records. (Which, that's exactly what they did.) You can hardly blame the people in power over there, wanting what's best, in a position where everyone would kill for a taste, or even just a glimmer of possibility.
"I don't suppose the part of the governor’s neglected wife is capturing your imagination.” You push the dossier closer, and she doesn’t so much as look at it. “It’s this year’s big budget political thriller, a shoo-in for awards.”
“You mean the one who ends up in a lot of very steamy shots on the apartment’s rooftop pool. Maybe I’m mistaken, but you can’t really unshow your tits.”
"This isn't about being above, Miss Kim, it's about being well regarded; it’s about proving you’re easy to work with,” you argue. “We could-"
"Find a better use of my time?" she cuts in, closing the dossier shut. There's a long moment in which she's looking you over, her gaze sizing up every little inch.
"Your big break won't happen just because you ask for it." You grimace a bit, hating to tell it like it is, but not really wanting to just coddle her either. "But listen - we work together, one project at a time - we can build up to it."
Minju crosses her arms with a loud hmph. "And what are you going to do if I decide not to accept these projects?"
There’s enough edge in her voice that it gives you pause.
"If," she says again pointedly, a teasing little grin tugging at her lips.
So - actually, another thing: when you start digging into the details, there’s more problems than just what can be seen at the surface. Which perhaps it’s too reductive, but essentially everything between you and the talent sitting on the other side of your desk is not quite so straightforward. It was never about Minju doing the best she could for either of your careers; it was about Minju making sure her needs were taken care of, no matter what.
Months ago, thanks in part to the way Minju filled out this tiny black excuse of a cocktail dress, and as a compromise of sorts, there’s an uncharacteristic mistake you ended up making. Or two or maybe a couple.
Because there’d been the perfect backdrop - an end of year party, beautiful dresses and suits, lots and lots of champagne, the kind of jovial mood that inspired one drink too many - and then you and her, taking off down one of the hallways, towards the exit.
Of course, you ended up exactly where neither of you should have ever been - where the snow was falling gracefully and melting into the pavement, behind a private accessway at the back of the venue, somewhere dark and dingy and dripping with a smell reminiscent of garbage; somewhere your hands had gripped firm fistfuls of Minju’s waist before you shoved her up against the back of the building. 
In short:
You remember how she gasped when her palms hit the brickwork, how you figured you may as well give her everything she wants.
(So what, it was one time, you hear yourself explaining, mildly repentant, and to say that it’s complicated the matter is a massive fucking understatement.)
In the interest of full disclosure, you tell her, “what exactly did you have in mind?”
"That maybe," she hums, tongue flicking out over her lips before she purses them thoughtfully. "You should persuade me a little better."
"And let’s suppose, I don’t do any of that," you persist.
"It'd be a shame, wouldn't it, having such a promising future cut short so early? If word got out. From such a respectable agency too, of all places. Couldn't live with yourself," Minju remarks, leaning forward on her elbows until her eyes are level with your own. “Come to think of it, it’s the kind of thing that could totally, like, end your career.”
But as she sits there, arching that perfect brow again, you don't feel so good about the whole thing. You take another look at her - which, your mistakes start there, if nowhere else - at the girl that is somehow not the airheaded starlet she’s supposed to be. No, she’s calculating. A rarity, though you do know the type: here’s a girl who just happened to take her brains for granted in the years she was pampered by the industry - the same one that fattened on her only to later spit her out. And that thought, the look of cold intellect in her eyes and the slight upward curl at the corner of her mouth, has you frozen just a bit stiff.
She takes a key card from her clutch, and throws it onto the desk in front of you.
“Minju,” you caution, and there’s a taste of danger on each syllable of her name - more of a warning for yourself than you can conceive of it ever being for her.
"I'm only suggesting" - she’s watching you nearly fucking choke, amused - "what's best."
And when the lines get muddied between the two of you, that's exactly the issue. What's best. As though this was always Minju's aim. Maybe you've read it wrong, maybe you've gotten too lost in your own delusions, maybe - maybe, it doesn’t matter -
"For work," she adds, at which point her knee bumps yours playfully beneath the desk, leaving the suggestion open, and the implication unmistakable. "Whatever's required."
Here, you should definitely tell Minju no. Say no. Say: you're a professional, and getting involved with her, romantically, officially, personally - whatever - would lead to nothing but disaster. That’d be the responsible thing probably. It’d be generous to say you end up getting even halfway there:
"There's rules against this, you know."
Minju tips her head. “Why ever would there be rules in place against doing your job?”
She thinks that if she feigns being clueless, you'll bite, which -
“Against me folding you over this desk and fucking you until your forget your name.”
"My apologies," she practically coos, knowing that she’s not only made progress, but that she’s wrapping you around her finger. She is a bright girl after all. “You might see how I can get the two confused.”
At that, you figure, the only real move, to be perfectly blunt, is to play Minju at her own game -
To convince her to bend, just a little. To persuade her. So you lean closer, you start to promise, with your face just next to hers:
"You want me to show you how I might handle an uncooperative talent? Would that do it for you, huh?"
And now if that isn’t enough to earn you a whole look, one that’s equally a challenge and a triumph; you watch as she bites the inside of her cheek, not that she can help the smirk creeping across her pretty mouth, a grin full of want and need and all those dangerous, thrilling thoughts that're probably too predictable given your unique sliver of history you’ve already carved out.
She arches that perfect brow of hers once more, toying with the corner of her lip between her teeth. 
You navigate around your desk to hand her your pen, with instructions that are perfectly clear: "then for once in your life, be useful, and sign on the fucking dotted line."
And her whole act falls apart just like that.
She’s humming almost pleasantly to herself as you settle in flush behind her, sinking into you just a little when your hand arrives at her waist, another carding through her hair. “Here,” you point out, watching her name materialize in ink on the document - pressing your lips to the nape of her neck each time she finishes penning out an exaggerated curl of a u.
“And here.”
“And here.”
“And here."
She signs again - and again - and that merits a reward; she’s good when she wants to be. Persuasive when she needs to be.
You can hear her murmur your name when your mouth slips just beneath her jaw, when you mark your next path across the bare skin of her shoulder and when she gets started on the last page of the documents, it happens just like this -
The pen drops from her fingers at some point, tumbling onto the desktop with a clack that might as well be a round leaving the chamber of a starting pistol. The office door isn't even locked and you have half a mind to check on the blinds, but the idea of some desperate executive running face first into this scene - where you’re smoothing your hands down the fabric of Minju’s top, down the rise of her jeans, fiddling slowly with the button at her waist - it holds an unfortunate sort of appeal; those blinds, they're mostly closed anyway. And at this hour of the afternoon, well - maybe it’s a little more clear why Minju asked to reschedule this meeting in the first place.
At first, it’s just a  few of your fingers dipping under the waistband of her pants, following the curve of her hip, her thigh, then inward, and when you reach down to find her already burning up in anticipation, she inhales sharp, a noise that makes you groan in turn, low, right into the hollow behind her ear. Minju, to her credit, is absolutely willing, so very helpful and - as you pinch the soft, tender skin at her hip, she's saying something but you haven't quite paid it a moment's mind.
Her head turns, eyes looking up at you ever-so-slightly-more-vulnerable than their usual mischief and calculation, and there’s a hint of a demand dancing on her tongue, ready and waiting; she moves her leg upwards just a few inches, settling to rest her knee on top of the tabletop, a calculated little pose, angling her hips so you can sink your hand lower, closer, press your fingers into the lace over her hot cunt even deeper.
Here you figure you're probably ruining the fabric, drenching it in her own slick as you work two, then three fingertips in tight circles. You’ll ruin it, and you’ll ruin more - ruin everything and take what you're owed. As her breath hitches again, in some way that makes your senses come to life: you can feel her skin become taut and tense, gooseflesh rising when your hand untangles from her hair and slides up under her shirt, can hear the steady rush of blood in your ears, her pulse quickening, the heart in her chest beating rapid -
(She can pretend all she wants that this was an attempt at extortion. She can pretend she’s not an easy read; that she doesn’t like being easy for you, when she’s hot and whimpering and aching so wet, creaming on your fingers when you haven’t even gotten her pants off.)
- as if every part of her wasn't made for this, as you lay out your first real proposal:
“Do you remember what I asked you? The first time, right after you signed on, when you were so good for me up against the bricks in the alley?”
Minju chokes out an affirmative when you toy with her pussy where she’s craving the shape of anything, but, boy, are the rough pads of your fingers more than up to the task.
"I remember you almost couldn't answer, you didn't dare want to admit that it's what you needed - isn't that right?"
She moans with a voice thick as honey when a couple more fingers brush up against her wet lips and fuck, she does look breathtakingly good; she's exquisite, she's irresistible - the image of a living wet dream.
"Say it, baby," you croon, her voice beginning to melt a bit at the edges, her own heat burning her resolve up from the bottom up as you tug sharply at a string on her lace.
Minju sighs. Arches into your touch.
Because you’re settling into this torturous pattern, where you draw inwards, closer, so close to the little bundle of nerves, her cunt flexing and rippling hungrily when your fingers flick once or twice around it, only for her to wince just slightly as your fingers trace down towards her entrance to start all over again -
Minju steels herself, drawing in a heavy breath past her teeth. “You asked how rough you could be.”
There's something so painfully wicked, how her voice falters there - but then your own voice is rasping right back in a similar caliber of depravity.
“Hm. That’s pretty close to how I remember it.” After all, you are always taking care of Minju - her concerns, her contracts, her needs. So if she was interested, why the fuck would you hold back on providing exactly what she wants. “But help me out, what did you tell me?”
Another twist - another catch. Another push - another pull. She's going to break so sweetly if you're patient - and, ahh, patience - she's shuddering underneath your touch, squirming against you so nicely that you've already gotten away with a bit too much, this much, these fingers and you and Minju's breathy gasps.
"M-that you could be. That you could-" she stutters, all as you feel her folds start to swell, then quiver, as your thumb drags painfully over her clit again - 
And in that moment Minju starts to consider if this were a good idea or not, but her back is already arching against your chest. She's gripping your arm to get you right where she wants you, and the reality of this hits her - a rush of cold clarity through her head just as everything else threatens to spiral into something else, something frantic, something hot and animal and making the muscles at her core begin to clench up.
But you just ease out of her completely, a whine coming out from the back of Minju's throat - her thighs parting further in desperation.
And oh, the disappointment, the sound, it’s incredible - a high pitch - almost a sob -
You slide your other hand in her hair to make sure she's got an earful of your words:
"What was it you said, hm?" you whisper, nipping at the skin on her neck, the side of her jaw - she's shuddering with it when your mouth lingers so close -
“As rough as you fucking want.”
God, the little things that her voice does to you. “Exactly, sweetheart.”
And how's that boundary supposed to hold up and remain uncrossed then, really, if you just give her whatever the fuck she asks for - especially if you have your mouth working it's way around her pulse-point, toying with her as she starts to tense and soften all at once.
In fact, Minju can only stutter out an okay or two as you grind forward, the hard suggestion of your cock nestling up against her rear, just shy of the perfect spot between her legs, and even with still a few layers of clothes between you, the feeling - fuck, the friction, the sight - it’s enough to get you grinning.
Enough to form this near-half-coherent thought: that it’s what's always had you on edge with this girl. She is absolutely every bit your type. Everything about her, right down to the way that she was put together.
All her hard edges and soft curves that should've never really been yours to covet and now, somehow, have become exactly that. Oh, she's the kind of temptation that's better suited for the life of glitz and glamor and the time it requires for indulging in it. You never thought that you would actually ever get here, even as the years have begun to stack up and time starts to grind everything in the back of your head and turn it all over into something like resentment.
If only Minju weren't so good at making you a sucker for those pouty lips and big doe eyes.
Particularly when she's turned around - face to face now - she's the epitome of gorgeous, equal parts aphrodite and adonis; a fucking knockout, her body sculpted and lithe and athletic. Those lines curving out and away like they might tell time, like her thighs could count the minutes and seconds until she's straddling you in your lap with her ankles locked in at the small of your back and you're rutting up into her without reservation, without doubt.
(So what, really, is your goddamned excuse? Your pride? The nature of the beast in you that demands that you must have some degree of control over yourself? The power that your position, here, now, provides? But you can hardly be blamed, even when it's wrong and filthy and so fucking good.)
"You’re stalling." Minju’s leaning back against the desk, tilting her chin up, blinking lazily, and there’s a bit of bite in her voice again.
It takes a minute for it to dawn on you that it must be intentional, trying to get a further rise out of you, the same way your hands have risen up to trace the dips and elevations of her spine, her every vertebra, your fingertips mapping the hollows and rounds of her back. To learn the geography of her shoulders and where, and when, and how to get her breath catching in her lungs, each labored intake of air a little harsher, hastier, hotter than the last.
"You know," you start, spreading your palm across a soft plane of denim, fingers pulling onto the cheek of her ass, dragging her even tighter against you, "I always figured your reputation was a little overdramatized. Most everyone's bound to have a story or two."
She laughs, full of mirth. When the mood strikes, she's the picture of perfection, and she knows it. "Well? Were you disappointed?"
As she coils an arm around your waist to slide your shirt free from the confines of your pants, and as a deft hand slips its way in, you stop asking yourself about right or wrong, good or bad, or about the kisses that land playfully at the corner of your mouth - until you hold her tight and seize her lips, hard, like you mean it - it isn't long before she's fumbling and scrambling with the zipper at your waist. 
"That depends," you’re pulling yourself away long enough to say.
"I think I know the answer." 
And by the way she shivers a little when you shove up the bottom of her top, the way she's melting into your mouth and demanding more and more and more, Minju does. You think she probably has since the first night that your threads got all tangled up. Especially when she slides off her top - her bra - her jeans - leaving them in a pile that lasts barely a second where it started once you sweep everything off of your desk in one broad, efficient gesture -
There's a thud when a pair of binders and a couple of books hit the floor. Someone exclaiming in recognition, the muffled noise drifting through the office door, and, oh, this would probably be the best moment to remember how painfully thin the walls are; you consider whether to walk over and lock the office door, and when Minju’s fingers run up your sides, you decide you won’t.
Too little too late, you figure.
And before you can take a second to give it the more congruent thought it deserves, Minju opens her mouth: "which, in your professional opinion," a hum and a slur as her nails find their way to your collar, "is well, that the thing I should take," she gets out, unbuttoning you at the cuffs, loosening the last of your shirt, "really," her hands palming over the fabric on either side of the lapels, working their way downwards, "how - how do you think this goes?"
“Oh, Minju.” She’s all but begging you to fuck her and still has the wherewithal to be asking for terms.
Like her fingers aren’t completely down your pants, locking around your hard cock - pumping you with soft, lazy strokes - not too different from how you have her chewing on her lip every time your fingers circle over the entrance to her cunt, tenting the last of her lace all slow and careful.
It’s driving her crazy. She just bites into the edge of her thumb in response.
"Fine. Alright. Let me explain it clearly." You dip a finger into her cunt; the whimper is short-lived when she tightens around you and it hits home, the pressure so delicious that she can barely stutter to keep up.
“A negotiation, of sorts-”
“Yeah, sure, we can call it that.”
The mental picture you have of your length outlined against Minju's tiny fist - as she works it into her hand, steady - it's all almost more than you can possibly bear: the way her long legs stretch out so pretty in front of you, the way her wrist twists with each pass and every bump at the veins of her forearm that is such a damn perfect shade of porcelain white in the dim glow of the desk lamp.
This girl with her pert pink mouth and those lips, the ones that aren't quite touching yours but rather smirking the whole time. (If only you were to make her scream loud enough, because you know she could be so much prettier.)
The thought flits through your brain, unbidden and treacherous -
"Think, fuck - think of this, as a one-way track into your career. Think of me, a guiding hand - if you want to. The key to all this," you continue, spacing the words carefully so you don't falter under the pace Minju is picking up, "is that you're going to need to be compliant. Easy."
"Mm. And in exchange?" she bites, choking down an embarrassing moan.
"Here's the basics." And there, there's no fucking reason for you not to dip the tips of your fingers right on downwards, tap into her soft heat until her hips are arching away from the flat of the desk, searching for more. “Whenever you need me to take care of you, I’m there, however you need it: on my fingers, my tongue, my cock - I’ll make you fucking cum over and over.”
"That sounds," she gasps, losing track of the end of her sentence, rolling herself along the pads of your fingers, taking them deeper into her, "very-very-oh fuck-”
Her grip around your cock releases, arms throwing themselves around your shoulders, holding on tight as she starts to trust you implicitly - to give her exactly what she wants, what she needs - and give herself over to you, to your fingers, circling and circling and circling.
“See, tomorrow,” you start, “there’s an audition,” and when you pull your finger out of her cunt, Minju lets out this sound that’s between a whimper and a whine. Her pretty mouth has dropped open, like she's all out of words, lost somewhere, chasing this. Getting dire.
“It’s this teen soap; they need someone young, someone pretty, do you think you can do that for me?”
She doesn’t answer so much as grab and tug and pull you even closer as the heel of your hand pushes and presses over her clit, just about enough force behind it that, eventually, you begin to feel a certain rigidity through her limbs, how the lines of her face and her faultless features grow more and more focused, fixed and concentrated; her voice reduced to the high-pitched huffs and half-formed syllables of pure and utter desperation.
I can, I can - she’s murmuring - please, yes, I will - putting herself right into your capable hands.
When you feel Minju tightening, flexing around nothing, then seizing and shivering, her pussy throbbing hot and wet and clenching around your finger as it again works deeper inside her, an anguished groan finds its way out from her throat.
And from yours, well -
"Show up," you command, giving her another knuckle, curling it just right - watching as her expression contorts and twists up for all her worth. "Make a good impression. Don't make me fucking beg. Show up, Unreserved. Understood?"
And if her body wasn't making her pleas utterly transparent, she's screaming in agreement. It takes you barely a couple seconds, working up inside her cunt until she's all full-body, fully, blissfully spent. She starts to nod, needy, eyes screwing shut.
“And let’s say, something else pops up. A little racy, a little more gravure, just the right amount scandalous, I need you to keep an open mind.”
When it sinks in what you've said, Minju gives this wail, low and perfect - her cunt throbbing over the pulse at your palm - inches away from cumming and shaking and creaming on your hand. You could ask for anything, you think, and she’d give it to you -
“My PR team,” she gasps out, the consonants of her words fraying at the seams, “it’s up to my PR team.”
“Minju,” you say, priming a loaded question and a half. “Do you trust me?”
She nods, expression readable and open like a book. It starts to set in just about then, how you’re going to fucking ruin this girl.
Your breath runs hot, right against her temple, and you whisper the slightest affirmation, “good girl, I’ll take care of it.”
Because to be fair, you’ve not made it this long in your career without learning how to pull a string - how you might pull up on the sensitive skin straddling Minju’s clit and get her reeling; her pussy flutters in the tight, wet heat, muscles clamping, demanding as you work yourself in deeper and then, when the timing's right, pull out to slide a second finger past the slip of lace she has covering her cunt.
She's this tight, dripping, overwhelming fit - even more than you have yet to discover, to tease and then take, the heel of your wrist landing on her clit in a heavy pattern, circles - circles - circles -
- so you figure: fuck the PR team.
If only they knew how well and thorough you were going to fuck the rules right out of Minju.
That you were going to remind her who's the one in the driver’s seat of her life, of her career, that you would make sure she stays in her lane - the proper lane - that this, you think to yourself, might become a recurring sort of negotiation, the kind she's so shockingly eager to accept.
You'd be doing her a favor, fucking a couple good lines into her head, into her skin, into her cunt.
And soon, before long -
She's gritting her teeth around the shape of your name and giving one last heave against the hard wood of the desk underneath her. It's almost beautiful to watch how Minju crumbles into herself; the way she grinds back onto the digits in her cunt. How you’re dragging her underwear down her thigh, pulling your cock into your fist and twisting her leg around your waist until finally, you press yourself right up against the heat radiating from her cunt.
“I’m going to take good care of you, Minju, don’t worry, I’ll fuck this pussy of yours just right. I'm going to make you shake and cum all over me.”
“Please.” Fuck, she looks at you sincerely - no games, no bullshit - pupils so very blown out with want, with need. You watch her adorable mouth uptick into this faint lazy smile as she tilts her head into your collarbone, lips parting slightly to remind you: “as rough as you fucking want-” 
And you sink right in. 
It’s all skin-on-skin as Minju practically collapses in your arms; pushing deep past her soaking entrance - your hips slotting together just so, cock engulfed by her tight heat. Minju fucking wails when you drag back from her cunt, slow - so, so agonizingly slow.
You let her recover just a bit, watching her breathing quicken and shallow.
And the word on her lips becomes something reverent, the most indecent prayer, pleading please, please, please let me have it, please fuck me with your cock- 
You brace yourself, thrusting back in, and she doesn't wince this time, holding fast to you like you aren’t the one fucking her open and taking her apart.
“God, I - look, this perfect little fucking cunt, look at how you’re stretching around me, Minju,” you’re telling her - promising her really - all of which doesn't count for shit when, once, and then again, and a couple more times after that, your hips meet hers and she starts to break just so slightly around you. “I can’t believe - it’s like you were fucking made for my cock, baby, you’re taking me so fucking well.”
"Now, show me why - why the fuck everyone wants you - wants you to be their-" she's trying, in a fashion  all to her credit and her fault. She should probably care more about that raw, unhinged noise you’re making right into the crook of her neck when you bury yourself deeper into her pussy. But in the next moment, with another wild crash of your hips, the tables start to turn.
Slowly at first, and then all at once.
Because the sound you’re ripping from her chest when you start fucking her - truly fucking her - becomes far, far filthier than anything you've ever heard a girl like her make. All of it coaxed out from you working the edge of her pussy open, stretching her, hitting each and every sensitive spot inside her.
Minju tips her head back to stare at the popcorn ceiling and fluorescent lights, brow creasing in the middle, mouth gaping open. You find you might have missed something, when she moves to hold you down, hold you in place with an insistent leg, the back of her heel digging into your ass. As though there were somewhere you might possibly want to go.
It all comes down to something she's murmuring, quietly, harboring this smug lilt like you aren’t fucking her raw and senseless: how maybe the key to unlocking the rest of her potential isn’t all that dissimilar, not as off-brand as you may have been initially worried about. And the notion that both of you might actually be profiting off of this - how it shouldn’t sound as incredible as it does - is doing absolutely fucking nothing to slow the brutal pace you fall into.
"Fuck, just like that," and she's smiling, grinning really, nails biting into your nape - your name and curses and a fuck you or two falling out of her mouth as you pound each short breath right out of her chest. 
"The only talent I'm gonna need to show," she manages, dizzy, and with one arm hooking around your waist, she pulls the two of you close, right up against each other. The sound your skin makes, clapping against hers - her cunt tight, pulsing, quivering around you - "is my, my, my-"
Your thumb should have never left her clit, you realize, pressing down on where your cock is disappearing between her legs, pushing up against that bundle of nerves that can get her screaming. That’s how you’ll punctuate your end of the bargain, how you’ll make her cum and cum and cum -
"-talent for being such a-"
There's something ungovernable in you, something fumbling, as you find yourself drawn to her lips like a magnet - claiming them in a kiss that has you both growling with all the intensity you can muster, groaning as her jaw goes slack, surrendering to the fucking. To this hard, solid snap of your hips, a raw fuck forward that pushes Minju against the edge of the tabletop.
It doesn’t matter what she had wanted to say, though it must be evident how easy she can wind you up, and you do your best not to be too gentle. Pushing into her so rough that her breasts, oh-so-delicate, bounce up and down along her chest, nipples tight and rosy, begging to be tasted and played with.
You’re pressing your mouth on hers hard, fucking her harder - fingers digging into the flesh around her thighs and leaving marks and memories, all these reminders you’ll be sure to come back to.
But the fact is that this is your girl in so many ways: needy and a dream in all her curves, and how her waist rocks back, her body fitting so perfectly against yours - you're hooked on all of it. On her - she is temptation made real, in blood and bone and soft, supple skin, so exquisitely touchable, just like the sound that she makes, high and tittering when your thumb starts to work her clit over; each swirl and figure eight sending a jolt through her nerves and straight back into your own spine. It's difficult - hard to focus, you find - when all her exposed skin has these drops of sweat standing in saltwater relief, how it rolls down the plane of her chest and disappears where her waist flares wide.
Minju turns her cheek, mouthing falling open, and asks with a certain helpless pleading, “yes, can you-”
she sighs,
“right there,”
she hiccups,
“please, again,”
she begs,
“again, harder, i’m so close-”
Not before long, the desk is scraping loudly across the carpet, moving right into the next office over, all from where you have your hand trapping her voice back in her throat, palm over where she’s practically sobbing for you to let her cum. 
From where you’ve got her locked in tight, lifting her up into your arms, into some perverse, unspoken promise to carry her the rest of the way. To do with her whatever you want.
"I'm going to show you," you're gritting out, "exactly how a professional handles their star, the girl at the center of it all, their top draw - and it's so easy, isn't it? This is - fuck, sweetheart - you're nothing more than a - just a desperate little cockslut who's aching to cum, and it's good - oh so, fucking-"
When that next shiver courses down the length of her perfect form, it's entirely because of you, when her legs are still locked and clamped over you like this, as she sputters and babbles, totally cock-addled and barely managing a coherent thought. “Please, sir, please, fuck-”
And then a keening, sounding low, lost.
“Sir. Please, sir, please just - I just wanna-" Her lips are shaping all these words that never quite materialize - because her cunt is slick, the whole of it hotter and softer than anything else in this goddamn room. Maybe anything else in this whole building. Or in the entire world. It makes her whimper and ache, her voice rising and rising, belting out, need it, need it, please let me cum -
Which -
Minju, oh god, Minju cums, and you are fucked sideways to hell and beyond when her whole body convulses, shakes, every single part of her contracting, contracting - all at once - the way her hands claw desperately onto the blades of your shoulders as the room gets taken up with the scent of her; the sounds she's making are fucked and filthy. She starts to become undone as you double your pace, aiming true - thrusting, pounding, nailing Minju right into the finish.
“Minju, sweetheart, I’m going to cum in you,” you tell her, and it’s not even a question, or a concern. You’re dictating, not negotiating when you say it to her again, when you tell her you’re going to fill her perfect pussy so full with your cum, she'll be hung up on it for weeks.
One long, stretched out moan is all it could ever take; a split second, where everything runs blindingly hot, and you bury yourself as deep into her pussy as you possibly can.
Cumming so much, spilling out deep inside - this heavy flood of cum that pools warmly at the back of her cunt and fills every corner of Minju - she whines and sobs and tells you it's too much, please, all this hot and thick white cum pumping right into her -
As you throb into her, she's having a hard time saying anything beyond your name, actually, because if anyone can, if anyone would, if Minju can trust anyone and anything in this world more, it would be you.
Her chest shudders and shudders, and she kisses you in a vain effort to quiet her own body, to quiet yours. She has all this faith she's pouring right down your throat as you rock the last of your orgasm into her twitching heat, spilling and spilling and spilling, not caring about the wetness leaking onto the carpet. Not bothering to mask the obscene slickness, how everything gets completely fucking sopping between the two of you.
When she's practically drooling over you, eyelids growing heavy and fluttering, Minju sags heavily into the bend of your arms. In that shallow heaving and gasping for air that bathes the both of you - blissed the hell out, a lazy tangle of limbs - and without warning she turns to speak into your neck, her breath cooling, like a whisper of a dream:
“Okay, and already… I guess this isn’t entirely-”
“Completely terrible,” you offer after you swallow the dryness in your mouth.
Minju smiles into your shoulder. “And sir, in the spirit of honesty and transparency, I think I - I think I really did want - this - you - the entire thing…”
You stop her there, right in the middle of that particular train wreck. A drop in your voice, and the message is clear, when your mouth works its way to hers.
(No more of her talking like that.
Besides, she looks even better on your lips like this, and fuck, doesn’t Minju taste like you will have to remember, like a little bit like desperation, but only in the way that it has you both completely hopeless, hanging on to every whimper as your cock slides lazily about her well-fucked pussy, a bit deeper, a bit further.)
Like there is something far beyond professionalism guiding the hand with which you hold her hip and let her ass spill through the gaps of your fingers.
It’s all mixed up, how in this exact moment you figure this is a terrible, terrible idea, the worst kind of agreement, this pact - because no one could look at you, could look at either of you and have any doubts in mind now. But you can see it, how you’ll both wear this little agreement like the most beautiful stain in your histories. Even though it might, conceivably, cost one or both of you dearly at some point in time. 
And yet, still.
"Will you - can I - can you..."
She's clinging onto you with all her remaining energy, like she wants to see it through.
But her eyes - the poor thing - her expression is melting into this haze, her face contorted in something like pain and something else entirely: a different kind of satisfied glimmer. It's almost unreadable how that sharp mouth softens at the edges as her cunt gives this small flutter over the head of your cock, as you pump her so full, threatening to overflow.
And in your ear, you catch this little whisper. It says, “please, let me show you,” she's practically purring, “let me, let me - I'm gonna clean you up now, lick my cum right off you.”
It's true. Minju can act and perform and pose and make faces, for a shit ton of people - but she’ll play-act any facade you might ask her to, and she'll do it for you - because, this time around, all you ask her is this:
To be yours.
To be a good girl for you, an obedient little thing, in your private audience, away from the cameras and the lights, away from everyone.
When her knees hit the carpet, she is perfectly between your legs, palms on your hips and fingers splaying out against you.
And when she tries her damnedest like this, no one should bother ever pretending to think differently - least of all, you - and certainly, not while your cock is hardening again in the wet heat of her mouth, under the curl of her tongue, the gentle touches of her fingers -
How can anyone ever bring themselves to tell her that she isn't completely, indisputably the greatest.
(The very, fucking best.
And in every other way: the woman of your dreams. A woman, you realize, you ought to endeavor to keep, in all manners, and forever.
Minju, who could probably do anything, and you, who just might be able to give it to her.)
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nihilistem · 8 months
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adhd study affirmations + tips to stray from discouragement by a stem student with adhd.
you’re not always going to be consistent. you’re not always going to be motivated. you’re not always going to be efficient. and that is okay.
edit : thank you so much to whoever blazed this post. It means the world to me.
and the fact that you even got this far is an accomplishment in and of itself. In this line of work, people aren’t always the kindest to neurodivergent people especially since our symptoms can often hinder our performance academically.
if you’re good to go after reading the above, I’ve also made a post regarding adhd study tips that I haven’t seen anywhere else. (Part 2 is here!) But, if you’re burned out like me, feel free to keep reading.
honestly, these might serve a bit more as reminders because they’re kinda simple but even I needed this, so, here we go.
do not seek advice from anyone neurotypical unless it genuinely helps you. I cannot tell you the amount of time and tears I could have saved if I just considered the fact that just because popular self-improvement tips or study techniques didn’t work for me, it doesn’t mean I’m stupid or useless. It simply means our brains isn’t motivated by the same things neurotypical ones are, and therefore a lot of popular self-improvement videos or study tips aren’t going to work for you because 90% of the time, they’re not designed to work for neurodivergent people. So if you’d like to seek help in this area, look for tips and videos that ARE for neurodivergent people.
you might experience burnout a lot more than others. again, that is fine. if this doesn’t apply to you, great! Feel free to skip to the next tip/affirmation. If this does apply to you, read this carefully; if you’ve had any sort of streak in studying right now, chances are you know at least a portion of your studies were led purely on interest, curiosity or even novelty, as these are what keep us engaged in our studies. Knowing this, it is natural for you to experience burnout more frequently than others due to the possible hyperfixations that have been forming around your work. If you get burned out, please remember to take a break for a day and make sure it is efficient. Like your studies, your breaks are the key to having efficient study sessions in the future. So please treat yourself, especially if you’ve been working extra hard!
do not admire studious fictional characters unless it genuinely helps you or they too are neurodivergent. I know this technically could have been thrown in with tip number 1 but I felt like this tip alone is so important, because nowadays I see a lot of study tips with the title, ‘how to study like (insert studious fictional character here)’ and when I look at the post it kinda repeats the same few study tips I see all the time like ‘stay organized’ or ‘time block your day’ and I feel like admiring fictional characters who do things that don’t work for you can be damaging for your mental health, because we’re already told by neurotypical people all around us that we’re slow or lazy just because we don’t do things the way they do, and I think idolizing neurotypical people that make us feel bad at the end of the day just further promotes that kind of toxic thinking.
expect that a routine/schedule/technique that has been working for a while now may not continue to work in the future. things will always have to be new for us to be interested or engaged, that being said, if you expect this in the future you won’t be frustrated with yourself because you already had this in mind. It doesn’t mean you’re not smart. It doesn’t mean you’re lazy. It doesn’t mean you’re useless. It just means that you’ve done what you could, and now it’s time to move on to another routine/schedule/technique.
keep doing the things you love alongside work. I find that because our symptoms may cause us to fall behind on our studies, we tend to neglect our other needs as human beings just to make up for the fact that we simply do not learn or pick things up the same way neurotypical people do. Your hobbies and interests need to be part of your day, just as your studies do, even if you may take longer to learn things or remember important concepts in your studies. Neglecting your hobbies or interests can lead to even more frequent burn outs and even a relapse in depression and anxiety, so please take care of yourself and recognize that you need and deserve these things just as much as anyone else.
regularly discover what works for you on your own. here’s the thing; neurodivergent or not, no two brains work the same. Of course it is good to try out advice or tips you find online because they’re backed up by experience, but they’re backed up by that person’s experience with working with their own brain. So naturally, you need to find what works with your brain. Be open to trying everything, even the tips that are discouraged like listening to lyrical music while studying. That was the only way I learnt that this tip actually does help me at times, even when many people have said that it negatively affects your focus.
that’s all I have right now guys, I think I’m experiencing burn out or probably falling back into depression again so more than anything this also served as a reminder for me, but I really hope it also helped you guys nonetheless.
As always, tell me if you guys would like more posts like these and I’ll be happy to make more <33 please take care of yourself guys, and remember that your studies is just one aspect of your life. There are other aspects that need your care and attention too.
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justauthoring · 4 months
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the winner takes it all.
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in which, leander prewett is a prick and sebastian shows him not mess with his girl.
a/n: i truly am the queen of being late to the partyyyyyyyyyyyy (ive wanted to write for sebastian since hogwarts legacy came out but just finally got around to finally writing for him :) )
warnings: leander prewett bashing because i said so :), being drugged?
pairing: sebastian sallow x f!slytherin!reader
“I don’t need to have eyes to know you’re staring, Sebastian.”
Ominis’ rather bland comment pulls Sebastian from the spiraling thoughts that had been coursing through his mind, a blink of the eye as he shifts, turning to face his long time friend with a frown. 
“I’m not staring,” Sebastian argues, voice sharper than he meant it to be. Guilt runs through him when he realizes he’s being unfairly cross with Ominis, a boy that despite all has had to deal with Sebastian’s rather cross moods as of late and in the grand scheme of things, has done so with very little complaint.
“Sorry,” Sebastian sighs after a moment of silence passes, shoulders sinking. “It’s just…”
Ominis sets his hand on Sebastian’s shoulder across the table, squeezing reassuringly. “You don’t need to explain, Sebastian. I understand,” he offers softly, voice warm with what is meant to be comfort. Sebastian, despite the hurt in his heart, does feel himself ease, even if only a little, at Ominis’ words. The boy has always been exceptionally good at understanding others and knowing what to say to help someone—something Sebastian often found he lacked in retrospect. But then again, given who Ominis was, it made complete sense for him to understand and see things other’s couldn’t (even if he lacked the actual sight to do so).
“I just worry you’ll do something rash,” Ominis adds tentatively, as if afraid of Sebastian’s reaction. 
But Sebastian isn’t offended—honestly, he’s been rather scared of his own limits as of late. Especially when he was faced with that mocking grin and gaze that seemed to scream; I beat you.
It all started two days ago when, instead of meeting Sebastian in your shared common room as you normally did, you never showed up. The act was odd but Sebastian had brushed it off as a simple lack of communication, figuring you’d headed to the Great Hall ahead of him for whatever reason since Anne had assured him you weren’t in your room. Maybe you forgot to let him, he figures; the possibilities of why you’d left early were endless and it wasn’t like Sebastian wasn’t capable of walking the halls without you so he’d shrugged it off and joined Ominis and Anne instead.
It was really when he entered the Great Hall that everything went wrong.
Despite his brush off earlier, the second he was in the hall, his eyes had strained to search for you, missing the familiar and comfortable conversation he could find in you. He missed seeing your face first thing and making you laugh with one of his silly quips or light teasing, watching you stuff your face full of food because you couldn’t possibly just choose one thing and rather had to have it all and—
And all of that seemed to feel a lot worse when he finally found you and saw you sat at not only the wrong table but with Leander Prewett of all people. If that wasn’t bad enough, you were practically sitting on his lap, his arm wrapped firmly around your waist as you cuddled into his side, giggling as the boy practically fed you.
Sebastian’s feet had moved on their own, despite Anne’s worried call after him and Ominis trying to grab him (because despite not being able to see what Sebastian had, he’d known the boy long enough to know something was terribly wrong). Neither of them had mattered in that moment as Sebastian blindly made his way over to the Gryffindor table, ignoring the curious pairs of eyes that watched him, marching straight up to you and Leander. The latter lazily glanced up at him, looking entirely too smug and pleased about himself as your eyes slowly flickered over to him, blinking, before smiling; “Sebastian!”
The way you’d called his name sounded all wrong. Although you looked pleased, a bright grin on your face, your eyes weren’t sparkling with the mischief he’d come to expect from you and rather you looked dazed.
Lovesick. The word made Sebastian want to throw up.
“Can we help you, Sallow?” Leander grinned, tilting his head in mock curiosity.
Sebastian’s lips part, but he hesitates, bewildered. His eyes flicker from Leander, to you, to the grip he has on you, to the way you’re holding him. “What… what the bloody hell is this?”
“Whatever do you mean?” Leander asks, voice sickly sweet. “Y/N and I were just enjoying breakfast together, weren’t we, love?” And to add to it all, Leander presses a kiss to your cheek and what shocks Sebastian most of all is that you don’t push him away or slap him or anything—you… you respond to the kiss.
Now, it wasn’t like you hated Leander. You knew of Sebastian’s… distaste towards the boy, and that Anne and Ominis in one way or another felt the same, though just not as much. You didn’t care for the boy either, as you’ve told Sebastian plenty, but you’d told him plenty of times not to be too mean or cruel or at least, try to get along with him.
Sebastian feels like he’s going crazy—was this why? Did you want him to at least try and get along with Leander because all along you’d had a secret crush on him or something? 
Had Sebastian misread everything?
The walks together every morning? The late nights spent together? The lingering touches? Longing looks? Flirts and teases and…—
“That’s right,” you grin at Leander, brushing at his bright, red hair and smiling. 
“But…” Sebastian swears he sounds more pathetic than he ever has… he certainly feels it. Watching you stare at Leander with that lovesick expression, smiling and touching him and… had Sebastian just never seen it? Had he been that blind by his own emotions? “You weren’t in the common room this morning,” is what he eventually manages, though it’s rather pointless.
It was obvious where you were.
“Oh,” you call out, blinking, as if you’d just remembered—oddly, that hurts the most. That you’d… forgotten about him. “Sorry Sebastian, I had such an urge to see Leander this morning and… well, I’m glad I did. Because I was finally able to tell him of my feelings,” you smile at him, cupping his cheek. “And i’ve never been so happy to hear he returned them.”
Sebastian’s lips part, his gaze shifting to Leander who’s watching him carefully.
The glare is clear. The meaning is plain.
I win.
Thankfully Anne is flanking his side before he can make more of an embarrassment of himself, grabbing Sebastian firmly by the arm and offering you a small, albeit bewildered smile and a glare at Leander before leading Sebastian away.
It had been two days since then and you hadn’t left Leander’s side once.
The only time you were alone was in the classes you didn’t share with him, and despite the fact that Sebastian had luckily shared one of those classes with you, his hopes at finding out some sort of answer had been quickly squashed when you spent the entire class in a daze. You hadn’t paid attention to the professor at all and spent your time staring off in a blissful, oblivious smile, ever so often whispering Leander’s name under your breath.
Sebastian was heartbroken. And angry. And hurt. And everything in between.
“I want to,” Sebastian admits to Ominis as he pulls himself from the memory. But, then, he sighs. “I won’t though. If… Y/N is happy, well, I guess there’s nothing I can do about that.”
Ominis frowns. “You’re not going to fight it even a little?”
Sebastian turns to him, confused; “you just said you didn’t want me doing that.”
“I just don’t want you to do anything rash,” Ominis argues, shaking his head. “It all still feels so strange to me. I mean, had Y/N given any sort of inclination about her feelings for Leander? I certainly don’t remember her saying anything and neither does Anne.”
Sebastian pauses, “well, no… I guess not. But maybe it was because we’d been clear how we felt about him.”
“Still,” Ominis expresses, leaning forward. “It’s so sudden. She went to bed fine and then woke up that morning and she’s barely spoken two words to us since. We were once her best friends, no?”
Sebastian had been so caught up in his own hurt he hadn’t even begun to think about how Ominis and Anne must be feeling. They were your best friends just as much as they were his after all and it wasn’t just Sebastian you’d steered clear of… you’d been avoiding all three of them like they were the plague. 
Sebastian sighs; “I think she’s just—”
“—She’s been poisoned!”
Both Ominis and Sebastian rear their heads back in surprise at both Anne’s words and her very sudden arrival, not to mention the loud bang that echoes as she slams the box in her hands onto the table with no care for those around. Some Slytherins nearby send her glares but she ignores them, her wide eyes strictly on both Sebastian and Ominis as she pants, out of breath.
“Anne,” Ominis calls, blinking. “What are you talking about? Who?”
“Y/N,” she all but breathes, turning to Sebastian who’s sat beside her. “Y/N’s been poisoned.”
Sebastian’s brows furrowed; “what the bloody hell are you talking about?”
“Look,” she calls, pushing the box in her hands forward. Sebastian eyes it as she takes the lid off, taking in the red and gold wrapping paper, before eyeing the wrapped piece of chocolate Anne pulls out of it. 
Sebastian stares; “it’s chocolate.”
Anne huffs, exasperated. “It’s laced,” she explains, pushing it to Sebastian’s face. “Smell it.”
Completely baffled but unable to resist with the way Anne is shoving the chocolate in his face, Sebastian does as he’s told. Leaning forward, he takes a small whiff, almost immediately frowning in confusion when he does; “it smells like… Y/N.”
For a moment, Anne pauses; “well, that fits,” she laughs, before pulling the chocolate closer to her. “It smells different to me. It smells like—” but she hastily cuts herself off, growing red in the cheeks as her eyes flicker over to Ominis.
A moment passes.
“Okay…” Ominis finally sighs, probably the most confused. “But what does this have to do with Y/N being—” He halts, eyes widening. “Amortentia!”
Anne grins; “exactly.”
“What?” Sebastian cries.
“I found these chocolates on Y/N’s bed,” Anne explains, “with a note attached, signed by Leander.”
The cogs in Sebastian’s mind slowly click together.
“He… he drugged her!” he calls out in disbelief, feeling a new wave of rage flood through him. His eyes snap back to his right, where he’d been staring before, where you are, coddled up next to Leander as he smiles sickly down at you, touching you, kissing you. “I’m gonna kill him.”
Anne is quick to grab onto him, “no.” And at the bewildered look he sends her, she frowns. “We need to get her to Blainey. She’s the only one who can heal Y/N and then the school will deal with him.”
Sebastian wants to argue but despite the anger radiating through him, he knows his sister is right.
-
Your head hurts as you blink away, the bright light above your head causing you to moan in dejection, confused.
Where were you?
Pressing a hand to your face, you try to block the light, using your other hand to push yourself up, slowly, since your whole body hurts in a dull ache everywhere. It takes you a moment to realize you’re in the hospital wing, recognizing the startling white of the room, before a set of hands are falling on you, pulling your attention to your left.
You gasp, panicked, until you see a familiar pair of warm brown eyes staring back at you in concern.
“Sebastian…” You mumble, voice coarse.
He shakes his head at you; “don’t push yourself.” He urges gently, his hand on your back as the other reaches behind you, helping prop you up with your pillows. You let him, still confused, as you glance around the room.
“How… How did I get here?” You asked, not remembering how you ended up here or why… actually, everything feels like a dull blur. The last thing you clearly remember is coming to your dorm after a long day of classes, surprised to see a box of chocolates on your bed and they’d been from… Leander!
Your eyes snap to Sebastian; “Sebastian! I think… I think I may have been poisoned by—”
“Leander Prewett,” Sebastian cuts in, face darkening as he nods at you. “Yes, well, Y/N…”
“You were given the love potion, my dear,” Blainey calls out, stepping into your view with a sheet of paper in her hands, eyes slowly flickering to meet your own with a worried frown. “Amortentia,” she nods, lips pursed. “Thanks to this young man, I was able to give you the remedy rather quickly but it looks like you were drugged for at least a couple days. Your body aches because of the antidote, so I’d like to keep you for a few hours just to make sure everything is alright but overall, there should be no lasting effects.”
Stunned, you let her words register.
Letting your hands fall numbly to your lap, you stare at them.
“Y/N?” Sebastian calls out quietly, pulling your eyes on him as he glances at you in concern. “Are you…?” his words trail, not really sure how to gauge the look on your face.
“I’m alright,” you whisper, “just… embarrassed.”
Sebastian shakes his head; “it’s not your fault—”
The door slamming open catches both of your attention, and your eyes widen when Leander comes storming into the room. The concerned look on his face is quickly replaced with rage when he sees Sebastian at your side, and Leander wastes no time; “just what are you doing—”
But Leander never gets to finish what he’s saying because in the next second Sebastian’s fist is colliding with his cheek, hard, and knocking him off his feet and straight into the ground. Nurse Blainey lets out a cry in surprise as you jump, body tensing as your eyes flicker from Leander to Sebastian, but you’re not afraid. At least not of Sebastian. Rather, his actions fill you with an odd warmth.
“I normally wouldn’t send you straight to detention for that, Mr. Sallow,” Professor Weasley’s voice rings out as she makes her way inside the room, and your eyes widen when you see Ominis and Anne trailing closely behind her. “But given the circumstances, I guess I’ll let such violence pass this once. Just don’t let it happen again, Mr. Sallow.”
Still breathing heavily, Sebastian takes a step back, his eyes easing when he turns to look at the professor. “You got it, Professor Weasley.”
“Now, Mr. Prewett,” Weasley’s voice calls out and the boy jumps as her steely eyes fall on him, scrambling to his feet as he looks around at everyone. “I believe you and I need to have a long chat.”
“B-But—” Leander sounds absolutely pathetic, his eyes falling on you as you simply glare at him, arms crossed over your chest, before falling on Sebastian who grins at him widely.
I win.
“Now, Mr. Prewett.”
Leander all but skulks out behind Weasley.
The second he’s gone, Anne rushes to your side, taking your hands in hers. “I was so worried when you started acting like a lovesick fool for Prewett of all people,” she cries, shaking her head as your cheeks burn, thinking of all the embarrassing things you must’ve been doing for the past few days. “I’m so glad none of it was real.”
Letting out a light laugh, you rub at the back of your neck; “I imagine I embarrassed myself quite a bit, huh?”
“A little,” Ominis says honestly, grimacing. “But it wasn’t your fault and the school is sure to know that when Leander is expelled for using a potion on you like that.”
His words bring comfort, even if a little.
“Y/N must be tired, guys,” Sebastian calls out after a moment. “Let’s leave her to rest.”
Ominis nods, offering you a small squeeze on the shoulder before pulling Anne with him who just grins at her brother; “I trust you’ll take good care of her for me though, won’t you, brother?”
Sebastian’s cheeks burn red and you turn away, but he doesn't argue.
Once Anne and Ominis have left, Sebastian returns to the seat he’d been in beside your bed, Blainey having left to give the both of you a bit of space. There’s a silence that swallows the both of you, and then, slowly, you let your hand fall on his.
“I’m sorry.”
Sebastian blinks, turning to you. “Why are you…”
You bite your lip, looking at your lap, cheeks flushed. “Whatever I did… I know Ominis said it already, but really, none of it was me… you know that, right?”
Sebastian flips his hand, taking yours in his and squeezing. “You have no idea how reassuring that is to hear.” 
Your eyes snap to his, lips parting.
He shakes his head. “Even when Anne discovered you’d been drugged, there was still a part of me that… I–I guess, it’s just… seeing you act that way with him, kissing and holding and-and being with him like that… It made me terribly uncomfortable.”
You shift, leaning closer to him; “just uncomfortable?”
“Jealous.”
He glances up at you, and you meet his eyes, hand still in his as your free hand reaches forward, daring yourself to brush your fingers through his curls. Sebastian lets you, eyes watching you, before suddenly he’s leaning forward and then his lips are on yours, soft and warm albeit nervous, pulling away too soon as your lips part and you stare back at him.
“Incredibly jealous.”
You smile softly, “I didn’t mean any of it.” You whisper, emphasizing the words. “I didn't mean any of it with him because I wanted it to be with you, Sebastian.”
He grins, his face easing for the first time since you’d woken up and the sight of it is enough to fill you with warmth.
Then, Sebastian’s lip part and he’s grinning a little too widely; “that’s a relief because it was almost embarrassing for me to see you fawning over—”
You cut him off with a sharp slap to his shoulder, one he gasps in response to, holding the offended spot but the grin never fades from his lips as he smirks over at you.
“You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?”And of course, his eyes sparkle with glee; “nope.”
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rose-pearls · 3 months
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Maybe a Clarisse x reader. Where R is daughter of Nemesis? Normally being very quiet and "calm", and, as she is the daughter of the Goddess of Revenge, she helps to take revenge on those who hurt Clarisse, even in games of capture the flag, in a discreet way and they almost never find out it was her. In addition to being extremely good at chess and strategies as well. (English is not my first language, so sorry for any mistake)
Hi! Thank you for your request! I had a bit of a writer block but I hope you like it!!! (Requests are open)
Main Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187, @nyx2021, @thestarspangledcaptain, @kmc1989 (open)
Percy Jackson Taglist: @niktwazny303 (open)
Clarisse La Rue Taglist: @peanutbelley (open)
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Clarisse knew everyone as camp, but there was one person that she didn’t knew as well, she was a kind of mystery that you couldn’t really understand. You had been claimed by Nemesis, a goddess who was known for revenge and strategy. It had made most campers wary of you, expect for the Hermes cabin, who had welcomed you in their cabin to stay. 
She had only heard of you in passing, people complaining of how you had beaten them for the hundredth time at chess and now as she watches you beating Annabeth at chess she can’t help but want to know more about you. Apart from chess she hadn’t heard a lot about you, you were someone quiet, who liked to stay in your corner, so she didn’t pay you any mind, not thinking that you could be something that interesting. But she would be lying if she said she had never sneaked glances at you., admiring you from afar.
Clarisse knew that she wasn’t the most liked person at camp Half-blood, that title would probably be held by Luke, but she still couldn’t help but be surprised when people tried to get to her. The Hephaestus kids were the ones that brought anger to the Ares kids, just like their fathers their children couldn’t get along. But it was weird when her spear suddenly reappeared after she searched everywhere for it, it had been laying on her bed, as if she had just put it there herself. The only indication that it was the Hephaestus kids were the twin marks on their arms, a small broken circle that reminded her of the broken wheel that had appeared above your head. 
She hadn’t thought about it further, only thought that they had realized how stupid they were and decided to bring it back. But as she saw a perfect ambush by the blue team getting completely destroyed by some simple smoke and something that she couldn’t pinpoint she knew that this was something bigger. She knew that the blue team had worked hard and long on this ambush, trying to get her alone to weaken her and try to get the flag that way. Just as she had been getting ready to fight back, surrounded by people of the blue team, they all saw a dark smoke coming their way and suddenly they were all on the ground holding their Achilles heel in pain, while she stood there unaffected. 
The only thing she saw was a shadow moving, and the smoke following it, so after a second, she left her helmet there and followed the shadow. It took a couple of minutes of following the mysterious person before she found you in the clearing. You looked beautiful in that armor, perhaps if the color on your armor had been red it would’ve been even better.
“Why are you doing this?”, she knows it’s rude to just ask you what you are doing, but she isn’t one to talk in circles, she needs an answer. You look at her with curious eyes and she tries not to fall for them.
“What do you mean?”, she knows that you know, but that you want her to tell you what she means.
“Why are you protecting me?”, it’s difficult to say it, she never had someone really protecting her so she quickly believed she should protect herself and not count on others to do it.
“Because they wanted to hurt you and that wasn’t fair to do without you knowing what was happening and risking getting hurt,” she was speechless, for the first time in a long time. If she was honest with herself and with you, she would tell you that she probably deserves to get attacked or getting something taken from her with the way she treats people, but she doesn’t say it. Instead, she admires your features, trying to understand why you would choose to protect her of all people.
“Why me?”, this time it slips right of her tongue, without her being able to hold it back.
“Why not? Everyone needs someone on their side. I just think you deserve to have someone on your side, watching your back,” you say it with so much ease that Clarisse can’t help but blurt out the next few words.
“Be careful or I might think you have a crush on me,” she says, and she tries to say it in a teasing voice, but it comes out shaky. However, she doesn’t expect the blooming blush on your cheeks and your shy smile, making her realize that maybe you do and that is why you are protecting her. 
“Wait, you do have a crush on me,” she says and for a moment she feels her heart beating faster, just like when she finished fighting with one of her siblings. Her stomach is turning into knots, and she feels her cheeks heat up.
“I do, I’m sorry if that makes you uncomfortable,” you look slightly ashamed, as if Clarisse could ever be mad at you for having feelings for her.
“Don’t apologize, it doesn’t make me feel uncomfortable,” there is short silence that follows her words, were Clarisse tries to tell herself that she should just take the risk and go for it.
“I kind of have a crush on you too,” she says quietly, she had only admitted it to herself in the middle of the night when she couldn’t sleep. Saying it out loud felt like a relief but it was also nerve-wracking.
You look surprised at her words, like you couldn’t believe the Ares girl could ever feel the same for you.
“Really?”, Clarisse can’t help but smile at your surprise, you looked even more beautiful like that. She gets closer to you and takes your hand, enjoying the darkening blush on your cheeks.
“Really,” she says, and she enjoys your shy smile, as you look down at your intertwined fingers.
“What do you say we go on a date sometimes? That way you can tell me all of your tricks,” Clarisse proposes, silently hoping that you will give her a chance. 
“I would love that, but if I told you everything, I would have to kill you,” you say with a teasing smile and Clarisse rolls her eyes good-naturedly.
“I’ll take the chance, beautiful,” she says before starting to bring you towards a secluded spot in the forest.
“Don’t you want to know who wins capture the flag?”, she hears you ask, and she turns around to find you looking at her with worried eyes, but she only shakes her head.
“Doesn’t matter at the moment, I’ve got more important things to do. And next time I will make sure to have a certain daughter of Nemesis on my team to win,” Clarisse says enjoying your satisfied smile before bringing you to her secluded spot. 
Unfortunately for the other campers, this was the day an unbreakable duo was formed, you had Clarisse at the front, defending herself but mostly you. And in the shadows, there was the brain, the one that could plot a revenge better than anyone by knowing exactly what your weaknesses were. Even the gods were scared for a moment as they saw the two girls form a bond that could never be broken.
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ellastone-olsen · 3 months
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I’d love to request a Lizzie x Reader smut fic where Reader is Lizzie’s stunt double - almost uncanny in how identical they are - and after a late night training session together, things really heat up between them.
Are we the same person ? | Elizabeth Olsen
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★Pairing: Elizabeth Olsen x f!stunt double!reader
Summary: Elizabeth has always liked her stunt double, but no one knows how much she likes you.
★Warnings: NSFW 18+, alcohol, thigh riding, fingering, oral, it looks like selfcest but it isn’t, fluff I love fluff
★Word count: 1.6k
★AN: another interesting request, how could I not write this?
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Wanda 838's body flies sideways through the staircase railing and lands on the kitchen table, breaking the furniture into splinters. "Stop! Cut!” You hear the director's voice and try to get up from the floor. It definitely hurt, even with the safety lines. Elizabeth, dressed as the scarlet witch, immediately approaches you, offering a helping hand.
"Hey how are you? Are you seriously hurt?» You took her hand and stood up, groaning in displeasure. The thigh on which you landed was in pain, there was no doubt that there would soon be a bruise there, but that’s your job. "Thank you. This is probably the most traumatic scene in the entire film." You tried not to show how much the fall had unsettled you. Someone approached the two of you to shower Elizabeth with compliments about the work she had done, but the woman brushed the man aside like an annoying fly. “I’m busy right now, isn’t it obvious?” She didn't even notice who it was.
You were flattered by the attention of a star of her level to a simple stunt double like you. Elizabeth has said more than once how ideally suited you are for this position and even joked that you and she are more twins than her famous sisters. Perhaps it was so, the other actors on the set when they saw you for the first time were shocked by your similarity, right down to your facial features and hairstyle. “Admit it, have you been preparing for this job all your life?” They made fun of you.
You and Elizabeth crawled arm in arm to a small trailer park where each was signed with the names of the main cast. As an stunt double , you weren’t entitled to such luxury, so the woman brought you into her “home on wheels” and closed the front door with her foot. “You really shouldn’t have done that, Lizzie. Besides, you need to change your own clothes, you’re still the scarlet witch.” You joked with her in a warm, friendly manner. You spent a lot of time training together and managed to become friends. You were glad to have the honor of not being a stranger to her, but you always wanted more.
“No, you do such a big work and I want to take care of you for once before you sneak home as soon as the cameras turn off.” Your heart swelled at her words. Lately, your relationship has become much closer, which did not go unnoticed by your colleagues on the set and the paparazzi. “Okay, fine. But you still need to go and get rid of this entourage, no matter how much I love Wanda, but give me Lizzie back.” The woman sighed and left the trailer, promising that she would return soon, leaving you alone. A hot bath or shower (depending on what is in this box) would definitely be welcome right now.
“No, look, I do this part, and then you replace me.” You were sitting in the private small gym in Elizabeth's house and rehearsing for tomorrow's big scene. As soon as you entered the house, the older woman immediately offered you something to drink and took out a bottle of pomegranate wine. Now each of you has drunk a glass and your brain has begun to get confused in this whole huge scenario and the replacement of you with her and back. “Get up, come here.” The woman rose to her feet to rehearse again. You walked up to her and she wrapped your body in her arms, guiding you.
“I've practiced this scene alone too many times, look if you do it like this...” She took your hands in hers and made the motion the way Wanda would cast a spell. She pressed herself dangerously close to you and you turned your head, coming face to face with Elizabeth. You were frozen in that position and your wine-clouded brain was screaming for a kiss with the most beautiful woman you had ever seen, who was holding you in her arms. Your green eyes looked into her equally green ones and it seemed like little sparks were running around.
Elizabeth has made hints about her sexuality more than once in interviews, and when she realized that she was attracted to her double, it was not a surprise to her. The only thing that confused her (but only at first) was your too strong resemblance. Later, the thought of sleeping with “herself” began to seem too attractive to her. She would even say that this became her kink. And now, when you were dressed the same, with the same hair, from afar it was impossible to tell who was who. This turned her on even more, but the woman did not have the courage to admit it.
“Lizzie...” your whisper broke the ringing silence and the woman returned from her thoughts. She tried to back away, but you had enough impudence for both of you. You took her hands in yours and closed the distance again. "What do you want?" Her gaze running over your face, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Your lips almost touched hers and you asked the last question in a whisper. "Can i kiss you?" A hum of agreement was all she could muster and you placed a quick kiss on her lips. And then another and another. The pace became faster and hungrier and you began to kneel down along her body. Hands lifted her black sports T-shirt so that lips left kisses on her toned stomach. The woman's hands slid into your hair and you looked up at her with puppy dog ​​eyes.
As you pulled her sweatpants off, your mouth kissed every exposed piece of skin: her hip bone, her upper thighs. When the pants and underwear slid down to reveal her center, you noticed how a string of sticky moisture stretched from her dripping pussy to her panties. “So wet.” Elizabeth stepped out of her unnecessary clothing and you pulled her down so she could sit on your lap, straddling you.
“Y/N...” She squirmed on top of you and took off her shirt, revealing her full breasts. Your lips wrapped around the nipple and the women let out a quiet moan, like a sob. Lizzie took your hand and lowered it to her crotch, wanting the long-awaited relief. “Now you see me without clothes, do we still look alike?” She needs to know this. Two fingers pushed inside, stretching the tight warm walls and you answered. "Absolutely identical." She began to ride your fingers, bouncing and squirming like a snake. She grabbed your shoulders for balance and moaned into the crook of your neck. Your other hand stroked her back and you whispered to her what a good girl she is, how well she doing for you. And when your fingers curled, pressing against the sensitive spot inside, she came, moaning into your mouth as she kissed you.
It was hard for you to sit on the hard floor of the gym and you leaned back to lie down and wrapped your arms around Elizabeth to prevent her from falling. The woman lay on top of you and sprinkled small kisses on your face, neck and lips, whispering quiet “Thank you.” Again and again. When the older woman's breathing returned to normal, she attacked your neck, biting lightly, making you squirm in place.
“I need to make sure your words are true.” That's all she said before instantly undressing you and pressing her lips to your bare chest with already hard nipples. You didn't lie. "You look as precise as I showed, although it wasn't difficult." She teased. Women’s teeth left bites on the surface of your stomach and thighs, what difference there will still not be visible, you thought. Let her to do what he wants, you told yourself, but all that came out was whining. “Oh please, I need you so much.”
And she gave you what you asked for, reaching your dripping center, she licked and sucked it clean so she could immediately push three fingers and pound into you at a fast pace. “So beautiful...” Lizzie whispered and placed a hand on your stomach to hold you in place. “Oh my God, oh my God!” You screamed into the empty gym as you came all over her fingers and tugged at her hair, pushing her head closer. "Yes! Fuck!” You fidgeted all over her face, unable to control yourself, you've been dreaming about this moment for too long.
When it was all over, the woman came up to you to give you one last kiss and stood up, picking up the clothes scattered on the floor. You looked at her in confusion, not understanding what it meant. It's good that she answered your silent question. “Are you just going to lie on the floor or are you going to come upstairs with me and take a shower before bed?” Sleeping in the same bed with her? Hugging? Oh, of course, this prospect immediately brought you to your feet.
“If we arrive together tomorrow, the paparazzi will again shout about our non-existent romance.” You said this with deliberate indifference, as if you really didn’t care what happened to you next. But Lizzie wrapped her arms around your shoulders to ask another question. “Who said that this is a non-existent romance? Hmmm” Your eyes widened and you didn’t know what to answer, the gears in your head were spinning intensely, processing what was said.
"Nobody." You answered. "Nobody said that."
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slowlymyavenue · 2 months
Text
Bubble Wrapped Bimbos
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There’s an implicit understanding around the idea of a bimbo that it is an easy thing to be. A bimbo doesn’t have to worry about very much, certainly not thinking. They are free to bounce, bubbly, brainless, and spend their energy focusing on the more fun things: sex, for instance.
Bounce.
I respectfully disagree. Thoughts can be very pesky things, and ridding yourself of them isn’t always a simple task. Many bimbos subscribe to the philosophy wherein the process of bimbofication involves having their brains removed, their intelligence compromised, their thoughts turned to bubbles to float away into the ether.
Bouncing your body makes your brain bubbly.
Which isn’t to say there’s anything wrong with that, of course. But a bimbo doesn’t necessarily need to be absolutely brainless, nor even to have their intelligence drained at all…and certainly not permanently. Part of the appeal is often in the transient nature of the transformation.
For now, we’ll focus on the brainless sort of bimbo. Perhaps later we can explore the alternatives.
Bimbos bounce their brains away.
After all, there is something to be said for allowing your thoughts to become bubbles, creating that light and airy feeling in your head. It is, I suspect, a little easier to feel like a bimbo when those thought-bubbles begin floating and bouncing around in your head, and especially once they begin to pop.
Brainwashed bimbos must obey.
But what happens when your thought-bubbles are being stubborn, when they don’t behave like the slick and oily bubbles that pop so simply? There are a few options. First, let’s consider another kind of bubble: bubble wrap.
You know what I mean, I’m sure. You’ve felt the enjoyment of popping that plastic packaging to release the air sealed inside. You’ve also found that some bubbles are easier to pop than others – sometimes you can roll the wrap along your fingers and appreciate the sound of so many rhythmic pops, but other times you have to apply some additional pressure before you receive that anticipated reward.
Bubbly brains are bound to burst.
Some of the bubbles can be downright frustrating, I know. The reward for normal bubble wrap is that giggly, somewhat silly, glee; it’s a lot of fun, and downright cathartic. But for your thoughts? The reward is becoming a brainless bimbo, and feeling the combined physical pleasure and mental relief when the thoughts pop and escape, leaving that wet, pink lust behind.
Bursting bubbly brains blow pink.
It’s a very compelling reward, isn’t it? You’d happily apply as much pressure as it takes to pop those thought-bubbles, but perhaps you aren’t quite sure how. There’s a line here about how that might mean you’re already more brainless than you expect, but we’ll skip that for now. Instead, consider the source of the pressure.
Bimbos bounce their brains away,
Brainless bimbos must obey.
Pressure around your thought-bubbles can come from the simple act of bouncing, of course. It can come from my words flowing steadily into your mind, perhaps repeating like an echo that escalates until the pop. In the first case, you’ll simply bounce a little harder; in the second, repeat my words either aloud or in your head to ramp up the pressure. But those aren’t the only methods.
Bubbly brains are bound to burst,
Bursting bubbly brains blow pink.
You see, we can also soften the surface of the thought-bubbles. You want to be a bimbo, after all, or you wouldn’t be here – you certainly wouldn’t have made it this far into a script designed to make you a bimbo. But I expect it’s more than casual want. You find the idea of becoming a brainless obedient bimbo arousing. It turns out that arousal softens bubbles…don’t take my word for it, though, let your focus shift to the intensity of that arousal, and feel the way the resistance inside your thought-bubble changes, as if the pressure is suddenly coming from both sides.
Bimbos bounce their brains away,
Brainwashed bimbos must obey.
Now there are three methods to ramp up the pressure on that stubborn thought-bubble of yours: bounce a bit harder, repeat my words to yourself, and focus on how aroused being bimbofied makes you. The bubble-wrap doesn’t stand a chance, especially when you recall how intensely rewarding that pop is going to be. Raw pink pleasure drenching your suddenly vacant head, freeing you to be the giggly, bouncy, brainless bimbo you want to be.
Bubbly brains are bound to burst,
Bursting bubbly brains blow pink.
Brainwashed bimbos bounce blankly.
Blank brainless bimbos bounce.
As rewarding as the pop will be, wouldn’t it be better to feel that over and over again? Of course it would. There’s a less common method of making bubbles easier to pop that we’ve just unlocked – making a single, large bubble into a bunch of much smaller ones. Even if you’ve already popped the thought-bubble, it’s surprisingly straightforward to imagine any remaining thoughts, brains, or some part of your body covered in bubble wrap.
Bimbos bounce their brains away,
Brainless bimbos must obey.
Bouncing bursts brain-bubbles,
Bursting bubbles blow pink.
Lots of tiny bubbles are much easier to pop, as you know, which means all you’ve got to do is pick your favorite method: bouncing, repeating my words, or feeding your arousal. Then the fun can really begin…you get to bounce, chant the bimbo mantra, or touch yourself, and enjoy the immensely satisfying sensation of all of those pesky thought-bubbles popping in rapid succession.
I’d tell you not to worry about the implications of being bound by bubble wrap, or the inherent silliness of the concept – but we both know you’re already past that, or giggling about it while you obey. So instead, give in to your chosen bubble popping method.
Bounce whichever way you find feels the best, repeat my words again and again, or bring yourself to a bubbly pink bimbo orgasm. Or, perhaps, try every method just to make sure you don’t have any pesky thought-bubbles left by the time you’re finished.
As for the transient – sorry, big word, let’s go with “temporary” – nature of the transformation, I’ll leave that up to you. When you’ve finished popping bubbles for me, you can drift awake with your decidedly un-popped brain functioning normally…or you can “wake” in bimbo mode for awhile, free to be bouncy and bubbly and giggly and horny for a few hours before the effect fully fades.
Bimbos bounce their brains away,
Brainless bimbos must obey.
Bouncing bursts brain-bubbles,
Bursting bubbles blow pink.
Either way, as always, enjoy.
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COD Sex Bot Au - General and Character Specific Facts
Requested: Yes. By uh…..pretty much everyone. SO many people begged for something and while this isn’t exactly a part 2, I hope it will help tide you all over til I can get that completed.
Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Child Abuse, Adult Abuse as well, Mention of Murder, Mention of Self-Destruction (Robot Suicide), Mentions of Knives, Mention of Blood, Spice, Probably very incorrect Spanish
A/N: So! A lot of people, along with requesting a part 2, have also been begging me for Price as well. I know I’ve only done the 4 characters for all of my Cod works so far but I do want to expand the character list! That being said, I’m just not entirely comfortable with writing them yet. I am looking more into Gaz, Price, and Roach specifically and I promise to let you guys know when I feel comfortable enough to write for them! But until then, please enjoy!
✨General✨
Their eyes get this kind of colored sheen to them sometimes. Different colors for different things.
Yellow is absorbing new information
Pink is the color during sexy times
Red is malfunctioning/in need of repairs (but can also be a sign of embarrassment or shyness)
Light blue is curiosity
White (still) is powered down
White (pulsing) is powering down
White (flickering) is low power
Grey is rebooting/charging
Black is enraged
Lilac is contentment
Plum is upset/hurt
All the boys come with their uniforms on but what’s underneath depends
For Ghost’s model, simple black briefs
For Soap’s model, silly patterned boxers (think hearts or something)
For König’s model, usually some fancy lace panties since he’s very popular amongst Doms who like that sort of thing
Alejandro’s model? Absolutely nothing
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Ghost
Ghost’s model was MEANT to be a scary bad guy kind of deal, to be marketed towards fans of slashers and the like. But he…..didn’t end up being that way.
At least, not your Ghost. Many of the other Ghost models are that way, but not yours. For some reason.
Granted, that programming is definitely still in him, though not exactly in the way it was meant to be.
Instead of it being just for fun rough sexy times, it’s more…….actually will kill for you. And has, in fact, killed for you.
Something that he’s NOT supposed to be able to do.
“Gee, I wonder what happened to that Barista that insulted me the other day.”
“Gee, I wonder.” *cleaning a bloody combat knife in your sink*
Speaking of knives!!! Ghost’s model does come with a lot of fun knives! Granted, they’re dulled into being just (mostly) harmless kink knives but he made quick work of making them a lot more harmless by ordering a knife sharpener.
So uh, yeah. You have received not just a sex robot, but one that borders on Yandere and will probably self-destruct if you reject him.
Have fun with that!
Fun fact: YOUR Ghost actually used to be a child bot MANY years ago, bought by a man who only wanted to be able to legally abuse a child. So he was broke down and put back together so very many times. And when they recycled and reprogrammed his AI chip, the scarring from that was still imprinted into him.
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Soap
While Soap’s model is marketed more towards romantic oriented people, he’s generally seen as a Jack of all trades.
Doms, subs, romantics, first timers, just about any kind of person. He’s good with all of them, though he thrives with Romantics since that is his programming.
And also just because your Soap is so very lonely. He yearns to be loved by you, to melt under your affection.
And also just because your Soap is so very lonely. He yearns to be loved by you, to melt under your affection.
He doesn’t want to be seen as just a sexual object, he wants to be yours. And you to be his.
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König
Ah yes, the gentle giant that was supposed to be marketed more towards Subs but ended up being a bit….Soft.
None of the programmers can explain it but every model of him is just inexplicably shy and quiet, thriving in an environment where he has no control.
So now he’s more marketed towards doms. Usually soft doms.
They once tried to change his model to be smaller and more petite and people started BOYCOTTING.
It affected their sales so much that they very quickly changed him back.
People still seethe when they think about it.
Probably equal parts the most loved and most abused of the different models.
Probably equal parts the most loved and most abused of the different models.
Just because of how quiet and meek his model is, how they almost never fight back when hurt.
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Alejandro
Alejandro’s model is VERY popular among submissives so he’s programmed to be pretty dominant and also to have a caring nature.
Due to said caring nature, many mistake his model as good for beginners.
I can assure you, he is NOT.
So SO many of his models have been returned cause he’s brought them to tears from so much pleasure, absolutely overwhelming for any beginner.
“Cry for me, Amor. That’s it, just like that.”
His model is one of the only ones that isn’t returnable unless something is malfunctioning and even then, they’ll try just about anything to fix the model instead of just taking them back.
If you’re the type to forget meals and such (I’m not projecting, shut up) then he will literally drag you away from whatever you’re doing and make you eat.
Will set up a rewards system if you have trouble with personal upkeep as well, like household chores and stuff (again, not projecting).
How much pleasure you get throughout the day is all dependent on how well you follow the schedule he makes based on your personal life.
He can and will have you call him Papi, in and out of bed.
“Be a Good Little Cachorro and get on your knees for Papi.”
You only get called Amor when you’re good or when you’re upset. Anything else and it’s Cachorro (Puppy).
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fumifooms · 1 year
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Analysis of Laios’ succubus and theories on what it means - deep dive on Laios’ desires in human connections
Laios’ succubus is a very odd incident. I have some particular interpretations of why it was Marcille, and why things went down the way they did.
We know that a succubus shows what one desires, stated in canon as “an alluring form”; yes often in a romantic or sexual sense, as seen with Chilchuck’s succubus being entirely set on looks and seduction, meanwhile Marcille’s does have a focus on chivalrous noble demeanor as well, showing romantic behavior and personality. BUT with Izutsumi we also see that the liaison doesn’t have to be romantic or sexual at all, either, in Izutsumi’s case it’s a familial bond she craves. So perhaps we can say that the succubus exploits a desire based on connection, in whichever form that takes. Marcille wants an emotional connection foremost(which is also reflected in how it’s a character she knows very well and not a stranger. Perhaps romantic.), Chilchuck wants pleasure(a simple pleasure not unlike alcohol, perhaps such a connection is free of the more risky or unpleasant parts of a relationship, he doesn’t have to worry or to think and can just let himself go. Sexual.), Izutsumi wants a mother figure that can offer her warmth and comfort with who she doesn’t have to be tough (Familial), and I believe Laios’ is platonic and centered on his desire to have people with who he belongs and can be himself with…
But Laios’ case is more complex, it has layers. The thing is, even if Laios wanted to have someone able to turn him into a monster—which it didn’t even have to be, could straight up have just been a monster with such powers—, it didn’t have to be someone he knew. You could say the succubus wanted to disarm Laios’ suspicions with someone he knew and that was nearby, but the succubus seem very direct in every other case, simply appearing with someone’s greatest appearance even though both Marcille and Chilchuck were fully on guard and the succubi knew it. "Believability" isn’t an important factor. No, his succubus being someone he knew was important. It being Marcille was important.
There’s a TLDR at the end of this if you want to cut it short. For everyone else, strap in everyone, if you don’t know me hi I’m Fumi and I made this 3k words long analysis and theorizing bc I am autistic much like the character in question and I think this is both fascinating and has a lot to say. In this I offer both platonic and romantic reasonings and I do go rather in depth in Laios’ psychology and relationships to dissect what ever could this damn cryptic event MEAN. Spoilers for the succubus chapters obviously and also the last few arcs of the series so… Spoilers for the series as a whole!
So attraction wise it’s kinda unsure where Laios stands. He does sort of logically list off aesthetically pleasing traits of the orc’s wives, but besides that… Not really, or he never voices it anyways. He and Marcille never share like “omg you’re pretty” moments or anything. Senshi gets more compliments than either of them through the series lmfao. Maybe Laios is asexual, maybe he simply doesn’t show outwardly his attraction much or even maybe isn’t self-aware about it, regardless… Laios HAS implied preference for Marcille’s looks in the past. With the orcs, he said that “tallmen like long ears”. Laios’ shapeshifter of Marcille has her hair down just like her succubus, which by Kui is explained to be because she had it down when she revived Falin and it really marked him, though it could also be interesting to see it as his mental image of her as her most authentic self, I’ve seen it theorized that it’s a preference too but I think that’s disproven. But of course the most damning evidence itself… The succubus scene. It could have been anyone else in the party, certainly Senshi shares Laios’ interest in monsters much more already. We shouldn’t discredit the way Laios was blushing madly once she revealed she was a monster, that made her more attractive to Laios for sure, but he still wouldn’t have reacted that way if it was just anyone. The contexts are very different, but we can compare it to how Laios reacted when Lycion turned into a wolf man in front of him for instance. Laios certainly doesn’t act that way with Izutsumi- and it’s confirmed like a page later that he does see Izutsumi as a monster already. AND!! Laios starts blushing madly BEFORE she says that she can turn him into a monster- and we can safely assume that the blush isn’t out of simple fluster but out of desire/infatuation since he clearly wants her to bite him in the next page and his blush does not relent at all.
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There’s something we could say about Laios’ liking of Marcille being born out of companionship rather than aesthetic attraction, on familiarity and intimacy. As members of the same party they’ve spent a lot of time together and we’ve seen that Laios trusts in her and relies on her for her skillset and avice. If Laios’ interest in her developped more naturally and gradually, valuing the familiar bond they have, I don’t see why he’d be acting all blushy and lovesick every time they interact or whatever, which is the explanation I have for Marcille genuinely being Laios’ most alluring form but him not freezing at the sight of it. That could also be a reason why he physically rejects succubus!Marcille instinctively, because something about her feels off or different (which is sorta the most direct interpretation of the scene, since Laios’ first thought is that it can’t be Marcille and must be a monster).
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 [Edited in: Oh my god. The picture above is the last page of the dullahan chapter, chapter 57, a chapter that centers around Laios and Marcille’s relationship through flashbacks as Laios is on the brink of death and sees his life flashing before his eyes (he remembers how they first met, etc, which is also interesting to note that on the brink of death he reminisces about her the most). The last page of that chapter, more or less the thesis of the chapter in which we see Laios opens up about the real reason he and Falin go dungeon diving to her after them having a rough meeting but she turns out to also have an interest in dungeons, has Laios go "she starts out frowning but she ends up smiling! Wether its’s about eating monsters or about me :)”. That chapter is the one right before th succubus chapters. Laios’ most alluring form wasn’t “just” Marcille, it’s a SMILING Marcille. Which is why the succubus had such a weird and off demeanor right away (which gets knocked off once it doesn’t work and becomes a more Marcille-like Marcille)! It was only focused on smiling because it was the angle it was working from.
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Oh my god it makes sense. It’s a direct narrative link, it’s as explicitly put with its story structure without Kui just stating it, besides, you know, the many times Laios says how precious her smile is to him. He’s like “I love her smile” and right next chapter the succubus is like “yes this is what he likes seeing most”. But… This also does mean that the focus might be less romantic, like Marcille’s significance doesn’t diminish, but then the alluring form might be less about her and more about the smile itself. About having a friend who looks at him like that, about someone who smiles after eating monster dishes or surpassing obstacles together… Or it can actually be so much more romantic. Like, maybe the smiling Marcille doesn’t work is because well, it’s not like Marcille, she wouldn’t just be smiling like that and behave like that (esp since his musing is about how her smiles are sort of “earned”, that she doesn’t smile right away but it’s sort of like a rewarding sight when she does). So then the most alluring form of Marcille doesn’t work because she doesn’t convincingly BEHAVE like her. His most alluring form isn’t a Marcille-lookalike, it’s her as a whole. More on the succubus shifting/switching in its approach later.]
Anyways.
Where was I. Ah yes, “It could have been anyone else in the party, certainly Senshi shares Laios’ interest in monsters much more already.” But then that’s the point isn’t it. I think Laios’ succubus being Marcille is because his wish isn’t so much focused on her, or on becoming a monster, but on not being alone. On being understood. On having others finally share his interest. On not only becoming a monster, but having someone to share that with. A trusted friend, a companion, or a lover, it matters little in my interpretation, the bedrock of it stays the same. And this is why it’d be someone he already knew instead of someone new, because it’d defeat the point, and it was maybe Marcille because she’s the most vocal about finding monsters disgusting: it’d have finally been a shift in her that she now liked monsters. And again this brings back to when he talks about her smile, when he says that she starts out unhappy with eating monsters, but ends up smiling by the end of it. Her smile itself represents that though first impression or reflexive dislike, someone can turn around and end up liking it anyways, it’s hope for his interests to be liked and perhaps for him to be lovable as well, that it’s possible to be accepted.
But I do think it would be a mistake to say that there’s absolutely no romantic interest, that it’s plainly platonic or another kind of interest misplaced and idealized in her. What we saw with the other succubus is that they 100% act in ways that the person desires, sure Izutsumi’s start attacking after a while, but that was after pushing them over the edge, and succubus Marcille wasn’t being agressive nor did she have a reason to be (even when she could have with Laios’ choking, she didn’t turn to violence, so she was 100% still in seduction mode). Ultimately the goal of the succubus is to make physical contact to be able to suck their essence, but the way they go about achieving that is tailored to the individual’s desire, Marcille’s kissed her hand and Izutsumi’s offered a hug.  The succubus can identify and embody complex desires, often subconscious ones, shown with Izutsumi’s. They go straight to it without complex subterfuge either. Chilchuck’s succubi were very direct because that’s what he wanted, Marcille’s was courtly because that’s what she wanted, Izutsumi’s offered motherly comfort and affection because that’s what she wanted, and Laios’ is Marcille attempting to kiss him. Let that sink in.
Laios why are you choking the supposed key to your heart?
Ok so the theory that Laios’ desire is to have a deeper companionship from an existing companion is pretty tame and surface level I’d say, but strap in… The way Laios reacted violently to Marcille trying to kiss him is VERY interesting. The first thing he thinks about is that she isn’t Marcille so she must be a succubus, then confusion at to why it’s her. He’s even afraid of what the others would think, feeling… Shame? With how he imagines Marcille would be horrified that he likes her that way. Fear of rejection?
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But no no, what interests me is the shift that the succubus makes. It seemed very confident at first, went straight in, but when overpowered shifted the direction it was going in- shifted from a desire for Marcille to a desire for a monster Marcille and whatever deeper desire that hides. But??? Succubi did not make mistakes as to what someone wanted thus far, possibly that has never ever happened before by human records. Could the succubus truly have miscalculated what Laios desires? It’d be hard to imagine that the succubus would misunderstand what type of companionship someone wished for or what approach to take, since it’s done complex cases before too, Izutsumi being very much in denial before it & at first. In Izutsumi’s case, even with her complex feelings over it and her two souls desiring different things, the succubus did not miss its mark, and ultimately it was having a second soul for who the succubus wasn’t alluring that allowed her not to be frozen to the spot. But with Laios the succubus fully switches strategy.
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The thing is that succubi don’t usually need to switch strategies, because the form and approach they take always work and always leave the victim frozen. Izutsumi bypassed this because of her two souls, but was still frozen and struggling to reject the succubus at first. And yet? Laios did. A succubus’ victim is supposed to be instantly frozen, and yet Laios acts on instinct and defensively agressive as soon as his reaction time allows. And well, it’s hard to really come to a logical conclusion as to why, since we have no idea of what rules can override a succubus’ temptation besides multiple souls… C’mon regular Marcille can’t be the winged lion/kenksuke’s desire bc of the loose hair being Laios’ mind-Marcille we’ve gone over this /hj Although, since it’s confirmed that the winged lion was watching with the dream Laios gets induced right after, maybe he’s what allowed Laios to be moving? It’s possible that it’d have frozen him otherwise, even if Laios with his full rationale wouldn’t have accepted the kiss faced with supernatural allure he might have gotten paralysis from being overwhelmed, similarly to how if Chilchuck had his full rationale he wouldn’t allow a woman like his succubus to kiss him (he’s always stayed faithful to his wife even after 4 years of separation, give the guy his earned credit). Getting somewhat offtopic, but something to say about how if that’s the case once again the theme of ‘irrational desire you crave vs what you truly want/need’ that is present throughout the manga would be reflected.
My best guess however on why Laios reacted so quickly and forcefully is: trauma. The more recent arcs with Laios suggest that Laios has deep-seated trauma over humans. He dislikes humans as a whole, that was like, pretty much stated, though perhaps exaggerated. As a kid he fantasized about monsters wiping out human towns. We know Laios has been ostracized for most of his life by others, in his village and in the military, and beyond social rejection it’s shown he got beaten in group too and it was implied that it happened regularly. But damn, disliking humans to the point of wanting to be a monster and murderous genocidal reclusive envies and all of that stuff? That is massive trauma, massive identity & belonging issues and hint at massive trust issues.
So then, the negative reaction could be because of Laios’ deep trauma with humans. Because of trauma getting activated, not due to a miscalculation on the succubus’ part but due to a contradicting dislike of the desire that makes the form inherently and straight out of the gate un-alluring, Laios’ repression being so strong that he’s able to affect his own desires in that way, or an instinctive defense response to the trigger (a human).   Even though Laios hides it well, once again recent arcs (and some other moments) make it clear that Laios still has some innate dislike of humans, which in canon is a term that all races like elves fit in. He has a bias against them, perhaps even an innate distrust of them. Who knows how aware he is of it, or how much control and will he has over it. What if Laios reacting agressively to it was his defense mode tied to this kicking in, a survival and security instinct, stopping any possibility of Laios wanting a romantic relationship with a human? Any chance of that human getting close and being hurt by it, either rejected or stabbed in the back? It’d then make sense if Laios is unaware and doesn’t understand his attraction to Marcille then, if it’s a sort of self-made blockage, denial. And that’d make full sense with how, when Marcille is suddenly a monster, then all of Laios’ reluctance is gone and he’s fully enthralled, all that it took was taking away that one blockage for Laios to be utterly charmed. It takes away the trigger element, humans, and replaces it for something safer. A desire for connections, but connections with people that are ‘safe’, people who also don’t fit in with society, who are part of his interest in monsters, who would accept and understand him. I think that Laios does desire human connections, specifically, but can’t allow himself to pursue them either from conscious or unconscious trauma, so though he does desire it he can’t accept that he does/can’t accept the relationship even if it’s handed to him on a silver platter.
Conclusion
The succubus’ shift could then be either that it switched from one wish, a wish for Marcille, to another, a wish for companionship in monster-liking, or that it stayed on the same fundamental wish, but had to improvise with the new information (that Laios is human-averse)(not bc it didn’t exist previously but bc it wasn’t manifested) to take out of the equation the thing that was holding Laios back (from giving in).
But well, the fact that the rest of the party is included does lean towards the former, but in any case that doesn’t erase all I’ve spoken about, all about how Marcille is 100% the focus of this whole thing. It could still be a bit of both. But it is interesting that he worries about the party’s reaction to seeing his succubus being Marcille, and when she shifts into monster Marcille he *still* worries about the others: “b-but what about the others?” He’s a mess, with his most alluring form seducing him, and he still has a shred of resistance in him to question how the others would react, and it’s only when she says that they’re already monsters too that he truly gives in. Is he really so afraid of ostracization? Of losing the people he cares about due to judgement? Then the mention of the others in the party can simply be something the succubus added on top to unlock another “blockage”, the same way she added Marcille being a monster on top of the basic premise of Marcille; Take out the immediate dismissal of humans first, and then the fear of loss and judgement from other friends so Laios can finally stop worrying and give in. That worry/framing I’d say makes the latter more credible, because it’s not the premise of the alluring form but an extra.
In the end, like the recent arcs kind of spell out, the thing central to Laios’ character is less so a love for monsters and moreso a dislike for humans, and this is what this puts on full display.
Laios’ most alluring form is Marcille, a human that doesn’t understand his interests and thus him, and regardless of everything else that Marcille is, that is so traumatic to him that all of his being immediately rejects it.
Thanks for coming to my ted talk! I’ve spent so much time thinking about this and wording and rewording this same train of thought, also it’s the end of my college semester and I’m going crazy
Tldr: My personal fav theory for Laios’ succubus is that Laios really values Marcille’s smile a ton like it’s often mentioned, and that’s what his most alluring form centers on. I’ve got a ton of different interpretation on the why it’d go for a kiss? Since it tailors its approach to the person’s desires, but obviously something goes wrong with Laios’, which is really interesting because even with Izutsumi who resists because she has 2 souls so one part of her can always remain unaffected, the succubus hit bullseye on her most alluring forms. But regardless of that, I think his desire for Marcille (either her or what she represents, wether as a platonic ideal or something else) isn’t wrong/untrue perse, but that Laios has such a complex with humans and intimacy and connecting with others that his defense mode kicks in and that’s when the succubus has to shift into a different, safer desire: one that doesn’t involve humans but that still shows connections and acceptance and belonging. Also Laios realizes that it isn’t Marcille when she goes in for the kiss, which if his allure for her is based on familiarity since they’re friends and all could make sense that it’d break him away from it, or since it’s a liking based on familiarity he doesn’t freeze, or maybe it’s because the winged lion has its eye on him. I think that’s so much more likely with how Kui makes even her jokes be character moments or at least consistent, and also with the tension of the scene, than just the scene being a gag about how Marcille doesn’t mean much to Laios actually.
I think there’s a lot to be said about why Marcille is special to Laios, why her smile means something to him, etc, and I don’t think saying Marcille is special to him is exaggeration or reaching at all. Laios, Marcille and Falin are the golden trio, she’s the deuteragonist, she’s the only other character in the main party whose goal in going back for Falin is Falin and who has a bond with her and Laios outside of being coworkers, in post-canon they live together, happily, in the anime’s ending they’re emphased on by dining out all three together... I could go on.   Marcille has the benefit of being very trusted by Laios, not only with the time they’ve spent together but how she was Falin’s friends first, the person he himself feels so protective of and has been so consistently ostracized throughout her life. Marcille represents a positive odd one out that’s like, the good example of "humanity can be good and safe and warm actually".  Which is a big reason why imo Marcille is like, the secondary protag and with Falin they form the golden trio. She’s central to the story in many ways including making Laios see that humanity is worth saving and sticking with, but that’s a topic for another analysis. One such reason is how his first meeting with her went: it started really badly but ended with her coming around and unexpectedly sharing their interest in dungeons, which made him and Falin open up about the real reason they go dungeon diving, perhaps for the first time. There is just so much that goes into it but Laios seems generally very expectant of rejection: in the climax chapters after he transformed back as a human and was hiding out in the woods, pre-canon in an extra where we see him battling himself on if he should suggest eating monsters or not. But another one, the one I truly want to bring up in this post, is how genuine Marcille is! And funnily enough, how dramatic she is, and how her elf ears change position depending on her emotions. Like, let me compare her affectionately to a dog for a second, but dogs move their ears and use whole body language to communicate, and I think that part of Marcille, really strong emoting, with her ears and body language on top of her often dramatic facial expressions, reassure him. Like ok, maybe he can’t tell when Shuro and Kabru would lie to him, but Marcille? She wears her heart on her sleeve and her feelings on her whole self. And that takes away some of the stress and trauma he has with humans, explains why her smiles would “put him at ease”, doesn’t it?
I don’t remember wether I’ve mentioned this somewhere or just in my reblog linked at the end of the post, but while at first I thought the succubus going for a kiss on the lips heavily implied a romantic desire in Laios,  now I have a couple different theories on why the succubus would have gone for that approach. I think the most likely is that, if the principal allure of his succubus is her smile, the succubus is like "as long as he sees her face right up until i can suck up his blood and he passes out I’ll be gucci", so it’s not about the kiss but about him seeing her face all the while until the very last moment, so he stays charmed.
Btw chapter 34 explores Laios’ relationship with touch too imo, and we see that he is uncomfortable with touch to some degree, very unsure and hesitant and tense. I feel like it’s something more shown in a bigger picture sense with his whole struggles with humans and extras, than just in any one page so go reread the beginning of that chapter if you want I’d say, but putting a page below as example anyways. I think it’s notable that it’s a character moment shared with Marcille too, she acts sort of like a bridge to humanity with social propriety and being extroverted in many cases. In the chapter Chil and Marcille point out how awkward he is with touch, but he learns to be casual/comfy enough about touch to do healing magic with her (something that was also enforced through him having to practice magic on Marcille turned to stone, he got a lot of touch exposure and magic practice done in those days. Dammit Laios, MArcille and touch is worthy of a whole analysis of its own). She’s just like, his human comfort zone, even if they aren’t that close at least at first, besides Falin he has literally like no friends and I think that itself shows how he doesn’t fit in well socially and that it’s a significant struggle for him. But yes what I was saying here is I believe there’s setup for him recoiling from touch like he did with the succubus (due to an instinctive aversion to touch made especially intense due to the succubus’ oddness and forwardness).
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I have even more theories and rambling on details on the succubus here in a reblog, but unless I want to put in some pictures of Laios repressing himself around others and such I don’t think I’ll be touching this post again in a while
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asimpwithfreetime · 1 year
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Our baby (Yandere! Platonic! Sullys x sickly born! Daughter/sister! Reader)
Summary: Y/n was born sickly, scaring all her family a few times in her life with that condition. Now she is doing better but they are all overprotective of her now. (Just a bunch of cute fluff scenes with them and then yandere stuff)
General warnings: yandere behavior, yandere sully family, manipulating/ fear tripping yandere! Jake, violent! Neytiri, fights between Neteyam and Lo’ak, purring! Loak,
Content warnings: English isn’t my first language and this hasn’t been proofread.
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[ 3rd Person POV ]
The Sully family was really close, all of them orbiting around Y/n. Y/n was born sickly and usually got ill more times in a year.
Everyone took good care of her. From her protective parents to her little sister, Tuk. Do not forget about her three older siblings that would do absolutely ANYTHING for her.
Jake never let her do anything remotely dangerous, what if his baby got hurt? He wouldn’t survive it. Also, why did she need to know that, she already had him, right?
“You ready, baby girl?” Jake asked his daughter, bringing her close to his ikran. She wanted to fly with one but he didn’t let her. Instead, they could fly together. He helped her up and sat behind her. Once she steadied her posture, he held her in place and they started flying.
At first it was fun but suddenly, the ikran almost crashed into the ground a few times. Jake protected Y/n. She didn’t know he was doing it on purpose. She screamed and cried, holding her dad as a life line.
“There, there, my baby” he cooed once on land. “This is why I don’t let you fly, I don’t want you hurt” he said. She hugged him tightly in between sniffles.
Neytiri was at a whole other level. With a simple “NO” and a hiss she would have everything settled. She even blackmailed and threatened a bunch of Na’vi in the clan to tell her daughter off whenever she tried to sneak around. If other people convinced Y/n, she wouldn’t be the bad guy.
She would be always there for her. As the daughter of the Tsa’hìk she new a lot about medicine and she would cure her baby. She knew how fragile Y/n was and she wanted to protect her baby. She never got aggressive against her, but Neytiri would punch to literal pulp anyone who tried to tell Y/n she didn’t need her family on her all the time.
Neteyam needed Y/n as he needed to breathe. She was his everything. Jake was really stern on him and he could always run to Y/n and still be seen as a hero and a role model. He loved the way she admired her big brother. He liked being appreciated.
He has fought Lo’ak over who loved her more in the past, close enough to draw blood. Jake had stopped them but it was always the same. Neteyam would cuddle with Y/n whenever she was sick, even if it was contagious. He didn’t mind. If he got sick taking care and loving his baby sister, then so be it. Eywa sent him the mission of being there with her. And don’t even think about dating. Neteyam would get caught, but he would kill any boy that looked at her more than twice.
Lo’ak teases Y/n’s sickness sometimes, only if she was going to laugh or crack a smile. He loved her laugh, it made him fill useful. Y/n was his reason to go on. He would be lost without her. In a forest of darkness, she was his moon, his night sky and his guide. She didn’t know it, but she was.
He loved holding her close when she got better from an illness, hearing her heartbeat and purring happily lulling her to sleep.
Lo’ak loved to get on fights just to get treated by his sister, she had such a gentle care that he couldn’t deny it. And maybe he didn’t create fights sporadically. He would fight Na’vi he knew had a crush on Y/n. He would teach them a lesson.
Kiri wasn’t violent physically, but verbally. She had destroyed a lot of people just with the power of the word. And whenever someone made fun of her sister for being sickly or for being weak, or someone would DARE to be in love with Y/n, she would make their live a living hell.
With Y/n she was all soft and gentle. As Y/n wasn’t allowed out alone, Kiri would bring her flowers, rocks and everything interesting she found while going for a walk. That way Y/n could experiment the wonders of Pandora form the safety of her home.
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lundenloves · 7 months
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IN ANOTHER UNIVERSE, I MEET MY FATHER WHEN HE IS A CHILD
〔 yeah this had no idea being as emotionally intense as it was, and for that, i will take a swig of this wine i’m drinking. a rhône red. this is based off the poem by nikita gill — and dedicated to all the girlies who relate. i love you, you are seen. 〕
˗ˏˋ i have a lot of requests in my inbox. i’ll take ages to do them because all of my time is stolen by the ceiling whom i stare at lovingly. it’s been really rough lately folks, i won’t lie.
⇀ warnings of brief abuse mentions | 1.7k
dad!simon masterlist | masterlist | taglist | request info
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A father and his youngest daughter. Simon and his youngest daughter. A concept so simple but also complex. The last one to need dad, the last one to be embarrassed of him, the last one to scoff after consoling kisses to her temple, the last one to say bye to him and the last one to move out. Every of his efforts landed enough for surface satisfaction, though not deep enough to reject tears over TikTok slideshows. Father quotes, embedded between photos of old and new paintings, some of animals hugging and others of people. 
What if you met your father when he was a child? It said, eleven words that joined together to create a swell of pity in her stomach. The clock turned three and darkness welcomed the girlhood routine of small houred upset. 
In another universe,
I meet my father
when he is a child. 
Her chest hurt. She hadn’t said bye to him, too busy on the phone with her friend. Undoubtedly another teenage drama, one that lasted only an hour at best when saying goodbye could’ve taken mere seconds and lasted forever. He stood in her door frame, camouflage clad and knocking to enter. 
“Bye.” She’d mumbled, now touching her shoulder at the invisible feeling of his hand. A touch that she had learned meant love from her father, his calloused fingers padding twice before pressing a kiss to her cheek and walking out. He always closed the door behind him, a fatherhood instinct he had picked up from the years. 
She viscerally pictured his youth. An image near scolded into her brain from the single photo she had seen. Stood without a smile, hand raised to bite on his nail. He was small against his older brother who looked just the same, a distant hand placed on Simon’s shoulder. It was something that she thought about often, about how even in his childhood she hadn’t seen one smile.
It was telling.
We play catch in the woods
and as we play he tells me
he isn’t allowed to cry
but sometimes the world 
hurts him and he doesn’t know
what to do with all that pain. 
One tear fell. She could hear the young voice, something so untainted but so far from happiness. A nonchalance sprouted from a young age, said with a shrug and a wide eyed stare — something like an animal in headlights. Her own childhood easily caught up to his, passing him by without a look back. The boy dropped his arm and watched her walk by, dark circles made home under his eyes and the bruises on his arms harbored, making their place known for years to come. 
So I give him the shoulder he needs to cry on. 
And he does. He does 
Until the tears are done. 
Her lip tasted salty, one or two more tears dropping for the thought of her father at her age. Still and silent, an observant soul with a foul temper. One tested more than he would’ve hoped or had energy for — if not his father, then school peers, finding joy in persistent teasing for his solemn stares and aggressive responses. 
It was something he had carried to adulthood, to parenthood. Dropping the bag of trauma at the door and doing his best to avoid the handle, locking the door and throwing away the key to avoid stepping near or on anything delicate. Anything that could set him off, for anger and upset had been merged into one. Because it wasn’t right to be emotional, it wasn’t right to cry or show visible turmoil because that’s not what men were like was it? Nevermind a five, nine, twelve or sixteen year old boy. 
Tears were the crime, anger was the fine. Even now, his rare despair came laced with anger and she couldn’t help in finding similarities to herself. She was her fathers’ daughter. Her smile, her eyes and her cry. Silent. Her ears went red the same way his did, her pitch raised when on the defence and her tears came at night when no one was around to see them. 
Like now. 
As she lay in bed, wiping tear-stained cheeks in a house bought from what was ultimately Simon’s life. Every deployment it seemed far fetched to assume he wouldn’t come back, though it was easy to forget the very real possibility. His texts kept her mind from wandering too far, a simple text of good morning or night. Something he knew was reassuring, because as much as she was his daughter he was also her father. 
Afterwards, I buy him ice cream 
and I listen to his laugh, 
the glowing warm laugh
of a child who knows he is safe. 
Isn’t it weird how you can feel it in your chest and stomach when something really hurts your feelings? A sinking feeling, one that you can’t seem to shake until your head decides to alleviate you of the weight. Her head spun at the thought, her father as a child and this continuous feeling — something that happened so often he almost found comfort in it. 
Familiarity runs a person. It’s undeniable, anything merely familiar is a driving point for the average individual. Though it was easy to forget the definition was different for everyone. For some, it was being born into a burning house with spits of fire. The inclination to find a human equivalent of petrol just to start a riot, finding home in forever arguments and turbulence. Simon was scared that’s what he would create, a lineage of trauma and anger. 
But he hadn’t. Not to the extent he was worried for anyway, instead, his girls were extended parts of the warmth he feared yet craved so deeply. The feeling of safety was a necessity growing up, it’s grounding — something he wasn’t a party of privilege to and it made his daughter sob. 
It made her sob how his hugs were forever tainted by his childhood. A fear to hold both arms tight in favor of a one armed distancing method, one that was abolished when drunk and she received his longing. Constant drunken smiles, laughs, hugs and words of affirmation. Her phone was pulled from the bedside table, scrolling to find his contact and phoning him without a second thought. 
It was even later where he was, but still the phone barely had a chance to ring once before he had answered. “Hi, you alright?” Voice hoarse from sleep, forever in concern. 
She imagined him sitting on the edge of the bed, rubbing at his eyes with a mighty frown across his brow. One that would soften as she began to cry down the line, “I feel bad I didn’t say bye to you.”
“You did.” He’d almost laugh instantly, his own attempt to lift her up from thousands of miles away. “Don’t cry over it.” A pause. “It’s late where you are, eh?” The creak of his bed sounded over the phone and she knew he was getting up to start his day rather than go back to sleep. 
I wish someone could 
have done that for him. 
She hated it. The way he would throw emotion away by retreating to his room for days after coming home. It was something she hadn’t paid any attention to being younger, but the older she got, and the older he got, it became obvious. The undeniable anxiety in his shaky hands, all pent up worry from being so still on the field releasing. He couldn’t hold a mug for days, growing red faced out of frustration and subsequent embarrassment over the inability to do something so simple. 
“Are you alright dad?” She’d ask, watching from the threshold as he clinked the ceramic against the counter — a crass sound filling the room and then his puff of anger. The tea spilled across the surface, his fist encouraging the flow with a thump against the marble. “I’ll get it.” Voice quiet, wary eyes catching his own.
His jaw tightened at her presence, pushing both hands up through his hair and down to rub his face. “No, it’s—” He cut himself off with a timely blink. “Sorry.” He motioned to the spillage, taking steps backward to lean against the surface behind him, instantly zoning out. 
Sometimes he wanted to cry. 
But it didn’t ever happen. 
Been a kind, safe place
for the child he used to be. 
Would it have made a difference? 
Would it have made a difference? 
The worst feeling in the world was that of neglect. The feeling of loving someone so hard, on your knees in front of them begging for them to love you back, and yet, only receiving a familiar feeling of disappointment running cold in your veins. Nothing but abuse and torment, the pining for warmth becoming redundant against each icy spit. It was worse coming from someone you looked up to. Anyone from a friend to a sister and a brother. But worst of all. A parent. 
Because there was something devastating about the lack of parental love for a youth. Those key years are knocked for six by the physical blows and emotional hits. It shapes you. Molds each crevice in your brain to whatever badness it feels, manifesting in forms of wrathful anger or complete silence, a primal human instinct to protect yourself. 
Not that it ever worked. 
It never does. 
Instead, it works in tandem with the abuser. Silence aiding an escalation of the inevitable. But one or two hits isn’t so bad, right? The purpling of your cheekbones feels like home and it’s not something you can ever leave.
Simon recognised that from a young age. 
And if the tears hadn’t been beaten out of him and he was able, he would’ve cried. Ten years old, yet his tears had already run out.
But would it have made a difference?
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as always, comments are reblogs are highly highly appreciated! if no one pats me on the head every now and then, i’ll fall down a hole.
simon 'ghost' riley taglist: @vamppxncess @crowbird @tallrock35 @fluffmonster @islanderr @blueoorchid @lea3773 @coldflapjack @rayhawk05 @han11dh @liishook @melovetitties @fallonx @rvjaa @fuckmelifesucks @bhayatsara @takeomisbitch @local-spidey @konigsblog @penutjuice @babychoi03 @sheluvzeren @sparklingtragedy @maviee @wiserebelpartypie @daddylorianisastateofmind @bhayatsara @mistydeyes @writingmysanity @johfaam0 @idkbbyx3 @gressseyy @shibble @maladaptivedaydreamingbum @airghostlyfox @hotgirlsshareaccounts @simpxinnie @cliosunshine @bloobewy @lazybutsmexy @iluvoaldmen @yyiikes @tieflingteatime @cosmoscoffee @lilvampirina @cinnabeanz @bubbyblob @spencerreidisbae123 @paperbag-prncss @cookiecutta
i cant tag more than 50 people, so will tag in comments!
i tag x reader as it’s your family with him, your daughter.
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asahicore · 9 months
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love calculator - pjh (m)
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this work contains smut - minors please do not interact
pairing. best friend!jihoon x fem!reader
synopsis. You were sure that Jihoon only took care of you so well because your brother had tasked him with looking after you when you started university, so you tried not to read too much into his actions until you couldn't deny your increasing sensitivity around your best friend anymore. What you didn't know was Jihoon was going crazy, finding ways to make his feelings for you more obvious than they already were.
genre. f2l, brother's friend, slight childhood friends action, college au, slow burn?, fluff, smut (mutual first time, they do it raw, dirty talking, very soft dom!jihoon)
warnings. jihoon is a menace, jihoon has a hot bod, junkyu is mean to everyone, mc is a bit slow, side romance but i dont actually ship idols i have a life, omegle, ok theres no actual stuff to be warned about its all good in there
word count. 28.2k dont ask me why or how idk either
a/n. there she is... i spent SO much time on her pls love it lots or i'll cry.. it was sm fun writing for jihoon omg i hope u love hoonyn as much as i do !!! @zreamy my dear sweet little zo ty for betareading this and freaking out over jihoon u rock
1K follower trope event - requested by @mosviqu, tysm for requesting and i really hope u enjoy it !!!! - listen to the playlist!
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Oddly enough, it was Jihoon’s biceps that first made you think something was wrong with you.
It was the fourth week of the spring semester, that odd in-between when you knew midterms were creeping up but were still far away enough to be ignored. This meant that you could party guilt-free.
The plan for tonight was to pregame at one of those huge uni dorms where ten students shared a kitchen then head to an overpriced club downtown that always had the best music on Friday nights. You didn’t have any classes on Fridays, so you’d headed to Jihoon’s place around four p.m. to get ready together. Usually, that was something you’d do with Minjeong, your roommate, but that weekend, she was away for an excursion with her Geography course. 
He was in the shower when you rang the doorbell, so his flatmate let you in, and you made yourself comfortable on his bed while waiting for him. You were so engrossed in the romance Webtoon you’d started that morning that at first, when he came in, you didn’t even look up from your phone. 
“Hey, Y/N,” he said casually, unfazed by your sudden appearance in his room. The soft smell of his body wash filled the room, and you noted with smugness that it was the one you had jokingly given him for Christmas after you’d gotten fed up with his strong, ever-present Axe scent. 
“Hey, Hoonie. You smell nice. For once.”
He chuckled. “It’s all thanks to you.”
“What would you do without me?” you said with a sigh, then looked up. You shouldn’t have. “Oh.”
The sight you were met with was unlike anything you’d ever seen in real life - Jihoon in all his post-shower half-naked glory, a simple white towel hanging low on his hips. Small beads of water fell from his hair and dripped down his chiseled chest and onto the plush carpet lining his bedroom.
You were pretty sure you’d seen at least five scenes like this in your romance comics.
“Oh?” he parroted.
You squinted your eyes at your friend before turning your attention back to your phone. “You’re naked.”
From the corner of your eye, you saw his grin widen. “I’m wearing a towel.”
“A towel isn’t clothes.” He turned around to rummage through his closet, and you took that opportunity to observe him more closely. This was the first time you saw your friend without a shirt, and you were trying your very hardest to not freak out, but it was a bit hard not to. Who would have known that under his baggy shirts and sweaters, Jihoon was hiding firm abs, broad shoulders, defined back muscles and protruding biceps?
His arms were what really got you, because you felt like you should have noticed them before. You’d already caught yourself staring a little bit too hard at the veins on his hands and forearms during a lecture before, so you could’ve conjectured that the upper part of his arms was well-defined as well. As mesmerizing as the shifting of his shoulder muscles was, what you really couldn’t look away from was the bump that formed his bicep. 
“Jihoon, have you always had… arms?”
You had barely even realized you’d said this out loud until Jihoon turned around, a confused look on his face. His lips drew into a smirk when he saw how fixed your gaze on his biceps was.
“No, they just grew recently. Thank you for noticing.”
“No, I mean… arms. Muscles.”
“Oh, these?” he said, flexing his arms and pecking his biceps in such a cheesy way that it snapped you out of your reverie and made you burst into laughter. “I started working on them last year so, yeah, they’ve been around a while.”
“Huh,” you said, then picked your phone up again and resumed your reading. “Well, you should work harder, ‘cause it’s the first time I noticed them.”
Jihoon scoffed. “Don’t act like you weren’t just drooling over my dream bod just seconds ago.”
You looked up, outraged. “I wasn’t drooling, I was observing. And don’t call it a dream bod, that’s gross.”
“My bod is a dream bod.”
“Stop it.”
“Can you look away from my dream bod for a sec? I need to put some pants on.”
“I’m already actively not looking. This dude is way hotter than you, by the way,” you said, waving your phone.
“Let me see him,” Jihoon said, heading towards you after successfully putting a shirt and sweatpants on. Gray sweatpants, you realized with a frown. He took your phone and looked back and forth between the character on the screen and you, an expression of disbelief on his face. “Y/N, this is a two-dimensional fictional character that exists in a fairyland. It hurts my feelings when you call him hotter than me.”
A lip grew on your lips. “Yes, but he has pointy ears and doesn’t refer to his body as a dream bod, so he’s a ten in my books.”
As you spoke, Jihoon lay down on his bed, stretching his arms behind his head and resting it on his palms, looking up at you with a grin. You didn’t know what to make of the sudden flip of your stomach.
“Will I be a ten in your books if I stop calling it a dream bod?”
You laughed. “Dream bod doesn’t even sound real anymore.”
“I don’t think it ever was, to be honest,” Jihoon replied, laughing along. “Or maybe they invented it for me.”
--
After that riveting discussion, you watched the show you’d been watching together (which, you had been surprised to find, Jihoon had the discipline to not watch ahead for), then finished getting ready. That night out hadn’t been particularly extraordinary. Pre-gaming had been fun and chaotic, but the line at the club had been so long that you’d all sobered up by the time you were inside and none of you felt compelled to pay for six dollar shots. At least the good music and nice DJ that took all of your requests made up for it.
The interesting bit happened on the bus ride back home.
By some miracle, Jihoon had run into some of his friendly course seniors that apparently liked him so much, they decided to pay for all of his drinks. Only an hour after getting into the club, he was nothing short of wasted. In your five months of being at university with him, you’d not once seen him in such a state - disheveled hair (from dancing too hard or from getting his hair ruffled like a cute dog by all of his seniors, you weren’t sure), deep red blush staining his cheeks, forehead, ears and neck, unfocused eyes and constant lopsided grin. When he almost tripped over his own feet during Gimme More by Britney Spears, you knew it was time to go home.
Jihoon was usually the one that had to deal with a drunk you, so you didn’t mind taking care of him this time. It was actually kind of fun, seeing this new side of the person who had become your closest friend in the past months. 
Luckily for you, a night bus ran directly from the downtown area you were in to the street you and Jihoon lived on, and you managed to lug him to the bus stop. Getting him onto the bus and into a seat was an arduous task, but you made it, and were enjoying a calm, uneventful ride home until you felt Jihoon’s head drop onto your shoulder. You thought he’d just fallen asleep, but then the unmistakable sound of his voice made itself known to your ears.
“Y/N, Y/N…” Jihoon murmured with a muffled voice, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You tried to ignore the prickly feeling down your spine when his lips moved against your skin.
“Yes, Hoonie?” you asked, a tilt of amusement to your voice. You really had never seen your friend so intoxicated.
He sighed, lifting his head from your shoulder and resting it against the window with a bang. He didn’t even wince at the impact of his head against the glass - the alcohol had apparently rid him of the sensation of pain.
“Don’t call me that,” he mumbled, voice so quiet you had to ask him to repeat himself. “I said don’t call me that!” 
You were taken aback by his sudden burst of irritation, but he sounded more like an upset child than anything.
“Call you what? Hoonie?”
“Yes.”
“Why? I’ve always called you that.” You tilted your head at him, but he kept his eyes fixed on the road outside.
“Exactly. You’re the only one who calls me that. Everyone else says Jihoon,” he said, annoyance clear in his voice. It sounded like this had been bothering him for a while, but it was complete news to you. “Can’t you even be bothered to say my full name, or something?”
You chuckled and brushed some hair out of his face. Like an angry cartoon character, he puffed air out of his nose and crossed his arms over his chest. His frown deepened and a blush spread over his face that was already red from the alcohol. “Should I call you Jihoon from now on?” you asked softly.
His reaction was immediate. He whipped around, almost knocking your head with his, a look of total alarm on his face. His eyes were almost teary. “No!” he exclaimed loudly, garnering glares from some of the other passengers in the bus who probably wanted some quiet this late at night. “No,” he repeated, this time more quietly, and turned back to the window.
In slight disbelief, you chuckled again. “What am I supposed to call you, then?”
“Just-” he started, but cut himself off with a sigh. “Just call me whatever.”
A small smile tugged at your lips. “I’ll stick to Hoonie, then.” 
He groaned as he lifted his head from the window and let it fall back against your shoulder. The angle must’ve made it highly uncomfortable for his neck, but he didn’t seem to mind. He only stayed still for a few seconds before shifting slightly and burying his face in the dip between your shoulder and your neck once more, then let out a low hum of satisfaction. 
“You smell nice,” he mumbled. Your breath caught in your throat. He was too close, his lips were too soft and his breath was too warm against your skin. Your whole body felt hot, like the bus driver had suddenly cranked the heat up and turned the bus into a sauna. “Like almonds,” he added, pressing his nose deeper into the base of your neck and inhaling there.
You tried to laugh, hoping it would dissipate the tension in your body, but it only came out as a choked sound. “It’s my body lotion,” you explained, voice weaker than you’d intended.
“Hm.”
You didn’t know what it was about Jihoon’s proximity that made your head spin so - no one had ever made you feel this way, and the fact that your body was reacting so intensely to someone you had considered your best friend for the past months made it all the more confusing.
“Are you asleep?” you asked him in a small voice after he’d been silent for some minutes.
“Just sleepy,” he murmured, shifting in his seat again. You tried not to shiver at the tickling sensation of his hair against your neck.
A pause. “Jihoon?”
“Don’t call me that.” You smiled, but there was a slight whine to his voice that, for some reason, made your heart ache. 
You corrected yourself. “Hoon?”
“Mmh?”
“Why did it bother you that I call you Hoonie, all of a sudden?”
He took so long to answer that you almost thought he hadn’t heard you. “Because… every time you call me that, it makes me love you more,” he answered, voice getting gradually lower until it became a whisper.
Everything seemed to disappear around you. The other passengers, the seat underneath you, the blinking lights and the night sky outside the window. It was just you and Jihoon, his body warm next to yours and the only thing keeping you tethered to Earth.
“Makes you… love… me?” you echoed tentatively. 
But no answer came. When you bent your head down to look at Jihoon, it seemed like he had fallen completely asleep, mouth slightly agape and the blush of alcohol still red on his face. You didn’t know what to make of his words, but there was no point asking him about them now. So you let him sleep on your shoulder, only waking him once you were nearing his stop. 
--
Jihoon woke up the next morning with a pounding head and a bruised ego.
He had always prided himself in his ability to drink copious amounts of alcohol and yet only end up tipsy. Sure, it wasn’t exactly good for his body, but it meant that he never had to turn down a drink or watch on the sidelines as his friends did shots, and he could still get home just fine and not wake up with a head-splitting hangover the next day. Unlike you, who started giggling for no reason after one pint of beer and who tore it up on the dancefloor or talked to strangers like you’d been besties for years after two shots of tequila.
It only made his state of the previous night that much more embarrassing. He wished he had your amazing memory-erasing superpowers - but sadly, he didn’t, and what happened in the bus was glued to his brain. 
Before he could even lift his head or get a cup of water, his phone rang, the sound invading his ears and splitting his head in two. He slid a thumb across his phone to accept the video call and was greeted by a close-up of Junkyu’s smiling face.
“Rise and shine! I heard someone got their party on last night.”
Jihoon groaned loudly, chucking his phone somewhere on his bed so he didn’t have to see his friend’s face anymore. His was definitely not the face he wanted to see first thing in the morning. Unfortunately for Jihoon, Junkyu had been blessed with an extraordinarily loud voice that still rang clear even when the speakers of Jihoon’s phone were stifled by his blankets.
“Y/N sent me a video of you. You looked ridiculous, man.”
“I hate you. I hate your face, I hate the way you talk, I hate how mean you are to me-”
“I can’t hear you. What was that?”
With another groan and a lot of difficulty, Jihoon raised his upper body and retrieved his phone. “You suck.”
Junkyu’s smile widened. “Well, that’s all from me. Have a glass of water!” he said cheerily before hanging up. Jihoon had never wanted to kill someone so badly.
His murderous feelings softened when he turned his head to find a plastic bottle of water and a headache pill along with a handwritten note on his bedside table. Have this and text me when you wake up! with five hearts at the bottom. It wasn’t signed, but he knew it was from you.
When the two of you met up for brunch sometime later, he kept searching your face and reading into your actions for any sign that what he’d said last night had made you uncomfortable. He’d expected you to be awkward around him, but your attitude almost made him think he’d imagined the whole thing. You joked around with him as usual, as if he hadn’t practically confessed to you last night, and he was desperate to know what might be going through your mind.
Had you forgotten? Had you chalked it up to him being drunk and talking nonsense? Had he had just thought it very hard, and not actually said it out loud? Or, worst of all, had you heard it all and understood him and decided to just ignore it for the sake of your friendship?
Jihoon was going crazy. He could barely taste his chicken and waffles.
The truth was, you just had no idea what to make of his words, and you were scared bringing it up might make things awkward. Jihoon could have forgotten all about it, or he could have meant something entirely different from where your wild, romance-comic-filled imagination went. Save for his tired eyes and groggy voice, he was no different at breakfast than he usually was, so you dropped it.
--
“Okay, Y/N, I think it’s time for you to go home now.” 
Different Friday night, different party. A week had passed and neither of you had mentioned what Jihoon had said on the bus - it wasn’t quite out of your minds just yet, but you’d both separately decided to pretend nothing had happened.
This time, Jihoon had found you in the hallway playing beer pong and downing the cup of beer your opponent had thrown the ball into. Everybody cheered you on as you gulped the cheap liquid down before lifting the empty cup over your head, eyes screwed shut at the unpleasant bitterness in your mouth. Jihoon wasn’t sure why you were playing - you hated beer, and you had one of the worst throws he’d ever seen. But even he, who was supposed to look after you, couldn’t suppress a smile at your attempt and inevitable total fail at scoring a point for your team. Even with all the concentration in the world, the sheer amount of alcohol in your system would’ve made it impossible for you to make it.
Back against the wall and arms crossed over his chest, he watched amusedly as you squinted your eyes at the cups across the table from you, even sticking out your tongue as if that would make your aim any better. After a few tense seconds, you threw the ping-pong ball and hit Lee Jeno right in the chest. You’d giggled at your own failure, letting people pat you on the back for trying and reassure you that it’s okay (even though you really didn’t care) before stumbling right into Jihoon. 
As soon as you’d recognized your friend’s face, you’d thrown your arms around his neck and pulled him down into a hug as you yelled his name happily; his hands had come up to your hips and gently pushed your body away from his. Then, he’d said the words you always hated to hear at a party.
“But we just got here!” you cried, the same answer you always gave him when he wanted to leave. You started walking away from him and back into the kitchen for more alcohol. He sighed but was quick to follow you.
“We got here three hours ago. Plus we did pres at Yoshi’s place. You’ve had way more than enough to drink,” he said, snatching a cup you’d just filled with punch from your hands.
“I was gonna drink that!” you complained, leaning against the counter for support. 
Jihoon took in your swaying body and your dazed eyes and knew he had to get you home. Any more alcohol and you’d pass out in this stranger’s apartment. Usually, he’d let you drink to your heart’s content and just make sure you got home safe afterwards, but midterms were coming up, and you’d planned on studying the next day - he was just trying to minimize the severity of your hangover. 
You mustered your most pitiful expression - to drunk you, there was no way Jihoon could resist your pouty lips and sad eyes. “Do we really have to go?” you asked, and Jihoon had to read your lips because of the loud music. 
He smirked, seeing right through your little act. He bent his upper body so that his lips were right next to your ear. “You’ll thank me tomorrow,” he replied, making you drop your fake sad expression.
“I should go say bye to Minjeong and the others first.”
“I’ve already told them we were leaving.”
You rolled his eyes at him and his stupid smile and lifted yourself from the counter, immediately losing your balance. Maybe you had drunk too much. At least Jihoon was there to catch you and prevent you from falling. He tried to put his arm around your shoulder to support you but you stepped away from him and fixed him a pointed look.
“I can still walk, you know.”
Jihoon smiled but said nothing, gesturing at you to go on and walk. You turned around and started making your way out of the place, ignoring Jihoon’s snickers as you bumped into various party-goers and pieces of furniture.  
When you reached the front door, you decided that actually, no, you couldn’t walk. Sliding against the wall, you let yourself drop into a crouching position. Your head suddenly felt like it was twice its normal weight and you regretted those last few shots of whatever it was you had drunk.
Jihoon sighed as he lowered himself and grabbed you under your armpits to lift you up. He had never been more thankful for an elevator and a bus stop only a minute’s walk away from where you were. Standing under bright lights in a desert and quiet street, it appeared like an oasis to Jihoon. Whoever’s party this had been, they lived in a really calm part of town. At this time on a Friday night, Jihoon’s street would be teeming with drunk students deciding which bar or club they should head to next.
You had never been more thankful for a bus stop with seats. You plopped yourself down on one of them, resting your head on the glass behind you and tightening your jacket around your shoulders. You closed your eyes, deciding this was the perfect time for a nap. 
“Are you cold?” Jihoon asked, his voice keeping you from nodding off. You let out a non-committal hum in response which he wasn’t sure how to interpret. He chuckled and you heard a rustling sound before feeling an added weight on top of your body. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he murmured, then sat by your side.
Next thing you knew, Jihoon was making you stand again, and your feet moved of their own accord as he led you inside the bus. As soon as you were seated, you drifted back off to sleep. You jolted awake when your head drooped over, making you feel like you were falling. You sat up straight and looked around the empty bus, frantically asking Jihoon where you were.
“I’m taking you home,” he answered, laughter clear in his voice.
“Oh, okay,” you mumbled, and closed your eyes once more, falling back asleep in a matter of seconds. 
Jihoon watched with a tender smile as your mouth opened slightly and let soft snores escape it. Scooting closer to you, he placed his palm on your cheek and pulled your head towards his shoulder so it could rest there.
“Why do you drink so much if you can’t handle it?” he asked quietly, even though he knew you were already in dreamland.
--
When you opened your eyes the next morning, you felt like a kid who had fallen asleep in the car on the way home from a distant relative's wedding and mysteriously woken up in their bed. You stretched out your limbs, enjoying the softness and warmth of your sheets covering your body until a headache and pasty mouth hit you like a ton of bricks. It felt like the alcohol had made your brain shrivel inside of your skull - your whole body was screaming for water. 
Some kind of miracle had made a large glass of water appear on your bedside table, and you gulped it down in mere seconds. The hour on your phone read 10:24 a.m. - so much for getting up early and going to study at the library. 
You’d have rather stayed curled up under your blankets and slept the rest of your hangover off, but some rustling noises from the kitchen (and an intense need to pee) forced you out of the comfort of your bed. You stumbled into the kitchen to find Jihoon placing a pancake atop an already dangerously high stack. 
“Hey, Sleeping Beauty,” he greeted you, glancing at you with a smirk on his face as you made your way towards him. You stood behind him and rested your forehead at the base of his neck, as if catching a few last seconds of sleep. 
The feeling of your hair against his skin sent shivers down his spine and he hoped his shaky intake of breath had gone unnoticed by you. His pancake was ready and he had to put it on the plate behind him, but as if a cat had fallen asleep in his lap, he couldn’t get himself to move. This was a moment he wanted to cherish - although you never particularly kept your distance from him, he was still always greedy for more of your touch.
“Hey, Hoonie,” you replied in a groggy voice. “Thank you for breakfast,” you said, moving to rest your lower back against the counter next to the stove. He missed you immediately. “And sorry for being a nuisance last night.”
Jihoon smiled at you as he turned to place the pancake on the stack. Then he leaned in slightly and you made sure not to breathe through your mouth so he wouldn’t smell your morning breath. 
“You always apologize, and yet who’s dragging you home every single weekend?” he asked with an amused grin that let you know he wasn’t actually bothered by it.
He turned back to his pan and ladled more batter into it, forming a perfectly circular pancake. “Sorry,” you repeated guiltily.
He shook his head. “I’d rather be there and make sure you get home safe. And it’s not like I don’t have fun at those parties.” 
A small smile on your lips, you nodded and let his words assuage your guilt. “I’ll make coffee as a token of my gratitude.”
“How kind of you,” Jihoon teased, beaming. 
No matter how many times Jihoon reassured you, you still felt bad that he thought it his obligation to do those things for you.
Although you’d only grown closer at the beginning of your first year of university, now six months ago, you and Jihoon had known each other since you were thirteen, and he fourteen. You still remembered his braces, wide boba eyes and round cheeks from your teenage years - when you saw him again five years later, you couldn’t deny your surprise at his much… manlier appearance. Sharper jaw, broader shoulders, taller figure, deeper voice - it was hard to recognize the Jihoon you’d known and the Jihoon in front of you as the same person.
His parents’ job made their family move around a lot - your town had been their fifth home since Jihoon’s birth already. The year and a half they stayed went by far too quickly, and before you knew it, you already had to say goodbye. Jihoon and Junkyu had grown really close in that year, and since you were always in your older brother’s business at that time, you’d developed a liking for your brother’s best friend, too. You liked the way he’d ruffle your hair whenever he came over to your house, the way he remembered strawberry milk was your favorite, and the way he’d wave at you in the school hallways, effectively making you cooler than all of your friends for knowing someone who was in the year above. At the time, you hadn’t known if what you felt for him could be described as a crush - all you knew was that for the rest of high school, you missed him. 
When you found out that he had not only come back to South Korea to study, but that he was attending the university of your dreams, you couldn't have been more excited. But you chalked it up to the relief of knowing someone in an otherwise unfamiliar place.
Jihoon had been even more welcoming than you’d expected. He had come to get you at the airport with a big, colorful Welcome Y/N banner, helped you move into your dorm and treated you to a meal the night you arrived in town. Over the following weeks, he’d introduced you to his friends, showed you around campus, and kept inviting you out “so you would know where the good spots were.”
Thanks to him, settling in had been a much less stressful and emotionally exhausting process than you’d expected. But no matter how grateful you were, you couldn’t help but wonder why he was going to these lengths to welcome you. 
Somewhere in the town center, there was a square that was extremely popular among skaters for a reason beyond your understanding. But at almost any time of the day and night, you could find people practicing their skating there. You’d just left a bar nearby with Minjeong, Jihoon and his friends, and to an intoxicated you, skating, something you had never attempted before, seemed like the thing to try out right then and there. You ran up to the first skater you found and asked him if he could show you how to ride.
Minjeong had run after you, finding a skater of her own while Jihoon’s friends either watched or talked about something else amongst themselves. Of course, the inevitable happened, and as soon as the skater let you try skating on your own, you’d fallen on your hands and knees. In a flash, Jihoon had been by your side, frantically asking if you were okay and making you show him your palms. They were only grazed, and one of your knees was bleeding very faintly, but Jihoon acted like you’d just broken something. He got you to get on his back so he could carry you to the nearest pharmacy, leaving his friends and Minjeong to wonder what the hell was going on. You tried telling him you were okay and could walk on your own just fine, but he wouldn’t listen. 
He’d sat you on the curb in front of the all-night pharmacy and asked you to wait as he got disinfectant and bandages. You watched his face closely as he rubbed medical alcohol on your wounds. A crease had plagued his eyebrows ever since you fell, and he would not stop mumbling something about you needing to be more careful and you’re lucky you didn’t get hurt badly.
You hadn’t realized you were crying until one of your tears fell on Jihoon’s hand, hot against his skin, and he looked up at you with worry, any of his previous frustration with you wiped from his expression.
“Y/N? Why are you crying?” he’d asked, voice soft, as if trying not to scare you.
You sniffled. “Why are you so nice to me?”
His eyes softened and a small smile grew on his lips. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
You couldn’t bring yourself to mirror his smile, and the more you cried, the sadder you felt. Inexplicably, your tears just fell and fell and fell. Under the bright white lights of the pharmacy, in the cold of a particularly chilly September night, Jihoon wrapped an arm around you and let you cry on his shoulder. He didn’t ask any further questions, just waited for you to calm down as he rubbed a hand up and down your back and whispered in your ear that it was okay.
When you thought back on it now, you knew that it had just been the alcohol making you unreasonably emotional - you weren’t actually sad about Jihoon looking after you, if anything, it made you happy. But once you’d started crying, you couldn’t stop.
“I’m just looking out for you,” he’d said once your sniffling had somewhat lessened. You’d leaned back to look at him. 
“But why?” you’d whined.
Your frown had deepened as his smile had widened. “Because we’re friends.”
“Is that it?” 
“Well, Junkyu also asked me to look after you,” he admitted sheepishly. 
You gasped in affront. “He what?!”
“Y/N-”
“So he’s been forcing you to do all of this?” you asked, voice breaking at the end. Your anger had lasted two seconds - you’d gone back to being sad at the thought of Jihoon only being nice to you because your stupid big brother had asked him to.
“No, no, it’s not like that, listen to me-”
“I can’t believe the two of you! I’m not a child-”
“Nobody said you were-”
“So you don’t actually even care-”
“I do!” Jihoon had exclaimed, louder than you’d expected, and it shut you up. “I do,” he repeated, voice softer. His hands were still on your upper arms, and he leaned in closer. “You’re his little sister. Of course he was worried about you leaving home. He just asked me to make sure you don’t get into too much trouble,” he explained, lightly tapping the tip of your nose with his finger. 
He sighed, smiling as he watched you try to keep an upset expression on your face. He took the bandages out of the pack he’d just bought and stuck them with caution on your wounds. “But I wouldn’t be doing all of this if I didn’t care, Y/N.” When your eyes met again, you hadn’t known what to make of the look in his. “I missed you, you know.”
Just like that, the ducts behind your eyes filled up again, and large, hot tears streamed down your face as you rested your forehead against Jihoon’s shoulders again. He chuckled at your dramatics but placed a reassuring hand against your hair. “I missed you, too,” you replied between broken sobs.
He’d texted his friends to take Minjeong with them and go on without the two of you, then carried you back to his apartment, which was thankfully only a five-minute walk away. 
Ever since that night, you and Jihoon had been inseparable. He continued checking on you consistently, bringing you food and coffee without you even asking and, of course, getting you home safe from nights out. 
You were thankful to have a friend like him.
“Pancakes?!” your flatmate exclaimed as soon as she walked through the door, snapping you out of your thoughts.
“Hey, Minjeong,” you and Jihoon greeted in unison. 
She was wearing her clothes from last night and her hair was a mess, but she had a bright expression on her face (despite the faint mascara stains underneath her eyes). You narrowed your eyes at her but she made a beeline for the food, completely ignoring you.
“Hot,” she mumbled as she held a pancake between her fingers, but threw a piece in her mouth anyway. “You’re so lucky to have a boyfriend like him, Y/N,” she said around her food.
“Isn’t she?” Jihoon replied before you could say anything.
You rolled your eyes at the pair in front of you and poured a cup of coffee for Minjeong. She referred to Jihoon as your boyfriend so often that you didn’t bother to correct her anymore. “Not my boyfriend. And even so, he’s more like a bodyguard than anything.”
“Being a bodyguard is just one of the many duties of being a boyfriend,” Minjeong declared, easily ignoring you. “Don’t you agree, Jihoon?”
He nodded, a serious look on his face. “Absolutely. I take what I do very seriously.” When his eyes found yours, he shot you a wink. Your frown deepened. 
“Anyway, care to share why you’re coming home so late?”
A blush creeped on Minjeong’s cheeks. “Well, Yoshi’s place is quite a ways from here…” she murmured, looking down at her half-eaten pancake. 
“Called it!” you yelled, just as Jihoon let out a loud “no” of shock and defeat.
“Next takeaway is on you,” you told Jihoon with a proud smile. In a mature response, he stuck his tongue out at you.
Minjeong frowned at both of you. “You guys bet on this?” she asked, vexed. Jihoon exchanged a look, glanced back at her, and shrugged. “Not cool. I didn’t even know something would happen with him. How did you guess?”
You smiled. “You always go for the cute ones.”
She hummed in agreement, her expression almost a pained one. “He’s just the cutest little thing ever, I couldn’t help myself.” She took a sip of her coffee, cringing at the bitter taste before getting up to fetch sugar and milk.
You sighed at your friend. “You’re gonna break that poor boy’s heart.” You knew Minjeong wasn’t to blame for the boys that got attached to her when she made it clear she wasn’t looking for a relationship - but if it happened to Yoshi, you’d feel guilty. You’d met him in a tutorial for one of your Digital Media courses and he seemed like he wouldn’t hurt a fly. He’d invited you to do pres at his place, and you’d dragged Minjeong and Jihoon along, so they’d met through you. In a way, if Yoshi fell for Minjeong and got hurt, it’d be your fault.
“I told him I didn’t want anything serious,” she said, pouring as much milk as there was coffee in her mug.
“He doesn’t seem like the type to do casual stuff,” Jihoon chimed in as he placed the last pancake on top of the stack. But it was one pancake too many, and the whole stack fell over. Jihoon wasn’t rattled - he placed a few on his plate then rebuilt the stack.
Minjeong ate her last bite of pancake and got up from the stool. “Well, we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”
“We? This is your problem, babe,” you said.
Minjeong smiled at you, eyes crinkling as she pressed a wet kiss to your cheek. You were sure there was some pancake left on her lips. “You’re such a good friend, Y/N,” she said, making you laugh. Of course you’d help Minjeong if she needed - but you were starting to feel bad for all the hearts she kept breaking. “I’m going back to bed,” she announced. Then, she put her hand next to her mouth as if telling you a secret, but spoke loud enough for Jihoon to hear anyway: “I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night, is all I’ll say.”
Jihoon choked on his food and you let out a groan of disgust, but you both burst into laughter anyway. “I want details later!” you called out.
“You won’t be disappointed,” she said between giggles as she closed her bedroom door behind her. 
Just then, your phone buzzed with an incoming video call, Junkyu’s face taking up your screen. “Hey, ugly face,” you greeted, propping your phone up against the milk bottle.
“Hey, stink.”
“Hey, Kyu!” Jihoon called out and took a seat close next to you - you knew he was just trying to squeeze into frame, but the sudden proximity still made your breath catch in your throat for a second.
Your brother’s eyes narrowed. “What are the two of you doing together on a Sunday morning?”
You looked at Jihoon, then back at your screen. “Is there something wrong with Sunday mornings?”
“Not inherently, no…” your brother conceded. “But still.”
You rolled your eyes at him and his meaningless suspiciousness. “We just went to a party together last night and he crashed here afterwards.”
“She was so wasted I had to bring her home. And I made pancakes this morning.”
“Y/N, if you don’t marry this guy, I will,” Junkyu said with all the seriousness in the world, and Jihoon made a kissy face at him.
“What’s up with everyone today?” you sighed. “I’m going to shower. You two have fun.” You knew your brother probably didn’t have much to tell you anyway - he liked calling you for no other reason than to bother you. 
“Oh, we will,” Jihoon said with a suggestive tone, and you made a vomiting noise before disappearing into the bathroom. 
“When I told you to look after her, I just meant to make sure she doesn’t drink too much or get involved with weirdos. I didn’t mean to make her pancakes on Sunday mornings,” Junkyu teased, a knowing smile on his face. 
Jihoon looked down at his place, a small smile growing on his lips as well. “I know, but I like doing those things for her.”
Junkyu let out an odd noise, half out of disgust and half out of annoyance. “I can’t believe you. Just ask her out, already.”
“So you don’t like me at her place on a Sunday morning, but you want me to ask her out?”
Junkyu rolled his eyes (Jihoon thought this was a family trait, at this point). “I’m trying to help you out here, buddy. I know she’s my little sister, but you’re also my best friend,” he started, ignoring Jihoon’s aww, “and I don’t know how much longer I can stand you being in love with her but not making a move.” He paused to sigh. “I know you’re a good guy, so you have my approval, or whatever.”
Jihoon smiled somewhat sadly, picking at his food with his fork. “I appreciate it, Kyu, but I really don’t think she feels the same way.”
“How do you know that? Have you asked her?” Junkyu asked, not even trying to hide his impatience.
“No, but-”
“Do I need to do it for you? Do you want to hide behind my back while I tell my little sister, hey, my friend here has something he wants to tell you? Hey, my friend thinks you’re pretty, do you want to talk to him? Are you a big baby who can’t do anything, Park Jihoon?”
“No, I just-”
“You know, if this were a k-drama and you were the main lead, everybody would get Second Lead Syndrome. Me included. You suck.”
“Supportive as ever, Kyu,” Jihoon said, sighing.
“If you don’t ask her, you’re a bitch. I’m hanging up now,” Junkyu said before Jihoon could get another word in. He just shook his head, chuckling as he dug into his pancakes again.
The two of them had had this conversation about a thousand times, and they always came to the same conclusion: Junkyu thought Jihoon should confess his feelings to you, and Jihoon dismissed the idea, knowing he’d never have the guts to do it. To him, making jokes about being your boyfriend and relentlessly flirting with you was sign enough of his affection for you - you just needed to figure out that he wasn’t actually kidding at all. He was already doing half of the work for you, really. 
An hour later, the two of you were sitting on the fifth floor of the library, where nobody ever dared to venture because of its dark corners and maze-like rows of bookshelves. It creeped Jihoon out, but it was your favorite place to study, so on days he couldn’t convince you to go to a nicer spot, he sucked it up and followed you to the table you liked by a window that overlooked the park next to the campus. The window let some light in, but to get there, you had to go through dim hallways that looked like they hadn’t seen a human soul in years. Jihoon didn’t know how you’d found out about it in the first place. It felt like something a fourth-year would keep as a secret, not something a first-year would have discovered in her first months of attending uni.
As he observed your sleeping figure, Jihoon couldn’t help but feel slightly annoyed. You’d gotten about twenty minutes of work done before resting your head atop your crossed arms, claiming you would just take a “power nap.” He couldn’t believe you’d emotionally manipulated him (pouted up at him and gave him puppy eyes - with that look on your face, Jihoon would agree to murdering someone for you) into going to this creepy part of the library only to sleep almost immediately after getting there. 
He bent down onto his arms, mirroring your position, and let himself have this moment. Even though he saw you all the time, it wasn’t often that he could shamelessly stare at you and get away with it.
He watched as your shoulders rose and fell to the consistent rhythm of your breathing, as the sunlight pouring in from the window made your eyelashes cast shadows against your cheeks. You looked so peaceful that any trace of his irritation towards you vanished. It wasn’t like he could ever really be mad at you.
Jihoon loved how little you had changed in the years you’d been apart. Of course, you’d grown into your features and didn’t quite look like the thirteen-year-old version of you he’d known, but still, you had the same face and same habits he’d fallen in love with in the first place. 
He still remembered the way his heart had swelled when he’d found your face amongst the crowd at the airport, how his whole body had buzzed with excitement at the idea of finally seeing you again after all these years. When you’d received your admission email from your university, the first thing Junkyu had told Jihoon was that he’d better look after you. It wasn’t like he didn’t think you couldn’t handle yourself, but it reassured him, knowing someone he trusted so much would be there to help you adjust to university life, since he couldn’t do it himself. 
Jihoon had taken this seriously. Junkyu hadn’t given him any sort of instructions - the picking you up at the airport, introducing you to his friends, making sure you were well-fed and well-caffeinated, that was all him. At first, he tried convincing himself that he was doing this in an old friend, big brother fashion - he knew how close you and Junkyu were, so he fancied himself a sort of Junkyu 2.0 for you to rely on. 
It had been when he saw your red, puffy eyes, trembling lips and tear-stained cheeks that he realized his old feelings had resurfaced. After all, don’t they say you never really forget your first love?
Truth be told, that whole night had been a dead giveaway. From the moment you met up at the bar to his little nurse moment in front of the pharmacy, his heart had not stopped racing. He kept checking on you, making sure you were having fun and handling your alcohol, and stuck by your side the whole time, like a bee to a flower. 
He remembered standing arms crossed over his chest and observing you with narrowed eyes as you tried out skating. He was telling himself he was just watching in case you got hurt, but he couldn’t ignore the way his stomach twisted with a hot, unpleasant emotion as the skater guided you, hands on your waist. He didn’t like that you held that stranger by his shoulders, relying on him and not Jihoon for support, or that you laughed together like you’d been friends for years. Jihoon was your long-time friend, not this random long-haired, baggy-shirted, vans-wearing loser skater that probably had a name like Mark or something.
When you’d fallen from that skateboard, his heart had dropped in his stomach. He’d been sick with worry that you’d gotten badly hurt, and even upon seeing your barely-grazed palms and knees, he hadn’t been reassured. 
Seeing you cry had made him panic like crazy. He tried his best to comfort you, but had no idea whether he was doing a good job. For days after that night, he’d replayed the conversation the two of you had under the lights of the pharmacy. 
“Why are you so nice to me?”
“Why wouldn’t I be? I’m just looking out for you.”
“But why?”
“Because we’re friends.”
“Is that it?” 
Jihoon hadn’t known whether you meant, is that the only reason, or, are we only friends? But he’d thought the second question was wishful thinking on his part. So he told you about the promise he’d made to Junkyu, and that had somehow made you even more upset. Even though he hadn’t said it outright, he’d thought he had made it clear that he wasn’t only doing this because Junkyu had told him to - he also wanted to be there for you. He did care, more than he wanted to admit. 
Over time, his feelings for you had grown far bigger than simple teenage nostalgia - he loved your present self impossibly more than fourteen-year-old Jihoon had loved thirteen-year-old you. He thought he made it obvious - he always made sure to compliment you, remembered your coffee order and favorite dishes from your favorite restaurants, rushed to your side whenever you needed him, and did everything he could think of to support you. Sure, he relentlessly teased you as well, but that was just Jihoon.
If you noticed him, you didn’t show it. He wasn’t sure whether you genuinely didn’t know he wanted you as more than a friend or were playing dumb, but he knew you saw him as something like a second older brother. But Jihoon had come to terms with that - he’d rather be in your life as a friend than not at all.
This was why he was grateful for moments like these, when he could just look at you without you knowing. 
After five minutes, Jihoon quietly got up and bravely made his way through the dark hallways and back outside to get you a drink - in case you woke up grumpy from your nap, he knew a matcha latte would appease you. He almost got lost on his way back, but when he found your table again, you were still sleeping. He couldn’t help himself - before rousing you, he snapped a quick picture of your sleeping face, making sure to get the drool pooling at the corner of your lips in frame. The photo went into his Y/N folder, full of pictures and videos he’d both secretly and not-so-secretly taken of you, which, no, wasn’t creepy at all, thank you very much.
When he pressed one drink to your cheek and the other to your forehead, you woke up with a gasp, then immediately winced at the pain in the side of your neck from the uncomfortable sleeping position.
“I wasn’t sure whether you’d want a hot one or an iced one, so I just got both.”
“Ooh, iced, please,” you said. “Thanks, Hoonie.” But before you could grab the drink, he snatched it away.
“No drinking until you get at least one thing done,” he said, a satisfied smirk on his lips.
You frowned. “But the ice will melt and it’ll taste all watery.”
Jihoon didn’t want to give in so easily. 
“Hm?” you hummed, tilting your head at him.
Jihoon gave in, handing you your drink with a tut. Seeing your excited grin and hearing your sigh of contentment after taking a sip made it worth it. 
About two (surprisingly productive) hours later, your stomach started demanding nourishment, and who were you to deny it? Your hangover was strong that day, and even the pancakes and coffee hadn’t completely rid your mouth of its sour taste. You needed something salty and greasy, so you pitched going to the fried chicken place a few blocks down to Jihoon, who agreed immediately.
On the way there, you tried to recollect some moments from the party yesterday, but quickly realized that not much was coming to mind. Pre-drinks at Yoshi’s were clear in your head, and so was walking to the other party - but the better part of your memories after that were fuzzy or non-existent. 
“Hoonie?” you suddenly asked.
“Hm?”
“Did I do anything embarrassing last night?”
Jihoon chuckled. “Not more than usual.”
You groaned and pushed his shoulder, making him laugh even more. “I mean, you just kinda danced like crazy and talked to absolutely anyone. At some point you were gone for like twenty-five minutes, and I found you in the bathroom taking selfies with girls I’d never seen before in my life.”
You pulled out your phone and checked your gallery - indeed, there were about fifty pictures of you and some random girls. “Who are they?” you asked, more to yourself than to Jihoon, in disbelief at how comfortable last-night-you looked with these strangers. “They seem nice enough, I guess.” You laughed with Jihoon before sighing. “Well, that’s not too bad. I’ve done worse things.”
Jihoon made a face as if to say, Yeah, I know, and you rolled your eyes at him. You returned your gaze to the path in front of you, but if you’d kept on looking at Jihoon, you’d have noticed the smirk growing on his lips as a joke formed in his head. After some time, with a shit-eating grin on his face, he broke the silence. “Oh, well, there was also that moment when you confessed your undying love for me, tears streaming down your face, begging on your knees, all the works. That was pretty embarrassing. But I get it.”
It was so ridiculous that you couldn’t help yourself from laughing as you slapped his shoulder. “You wish,” you said between giggles.
I do wish, he immediately thought, but kept it to himself. He laughed instead and could only hope his real thoughts weren’t so obvious. 
--
Two things happened in the fried chicken shop restaurant.
Well, three, if you counted their promotion on their chicken rice cake coleslaw menu, which was your favorite and which Jihoon always chided you for ordering (“Anyone who likes coleslaw is not human”), but in the grand scheme of things, that wasn’t so important.
First, your mom called. Now, this wasn’t anything huge in itself, but it was Jihoon’s behavior that got to you.
You had gotten maybe five words before he snatched the phone from you and lifted it to his ear. “Hi, Mrs Kim!”
You heard a faint but enthusiastic “Hi, Jihoon!” on the other side of the line. They made small talk for a bit, and you couldn’t believe your mom could have forgotten about her only daughter so quickly. You’d dived back into your fried chicken, pretending you didn’t care about whatever it was they were talking so energetically about, until you heard your name on the other end.
Your and Jihoon’s eyes met. A mischievous smile spread across his lips and your gaze hardened. “Yes, well, you know her, she’s a bit of a nuisance, but I’m keeping her out of trouble and all that. I saved her from joining a cult the other day,” he said, and you rolled your eyes at him.
“Oh dear!” you heard your mother exclaim.
“You didn’t save me from anything, I knew what that woman was up to.”
You’d been waiting for Jihoon outside of the movie theater when an older woman approached you. She seemed friendly enough, and you thought she was just a lonely grandma in need of a nice discussion - which it was at first, until it veered towards religion. Next thing you knew, she was telling you stories about the upcoming end of the world and how we had to beg for salvation. You didn’t believe any of it, but you found it captivating, so you stood there listening to her and egging her on until Jihoon showed up and forced you out of there. You thought it’d have been funny if he’d listened along, but knowing Jihoon, a small part of him might have actually believed her and started freaking out.
“I didn’t know you and my mom were so chummy,” you said when the phone call was over. She hadn’t even asked to talk to you again.
“Your mom’s awesome. I can’t believe such a lovely woman gave birth to two gremlins like you and Junkyu. Are you sure you’re not adopted?”
It had seemed like nothing at the time, but when you played the scene over again in your mind that night as you lay in bed, the fact that Jihoon got along with your family filled your heart with an unexpected warmth. It was almost like he was part of the family himself - not in a third child way, but more in a if you brought him home to your family, he’d fit right in, a thought that had made you panic as soon as it’d appeared in your mind. Because why were you thinking of bringing Jihoon home? Why did it make you so happy, knowing he’d be welcomed with open arms?
You shook your head against your pillow, hoping it’d make those thoughts vanish. You reassured yourself by telling yourself that you’d be just as happy bringing a friend like Minjeong home, and that you were sure she’d get along just fine with your brothers and parents. 
The other sign had been much more straightforward. You weren’t afraid to eat messily in front of Jihoon, so some honey barbecue sauce had spread over the corner of your lips as you wolfed down one of the wings. As soon as Jihoon started to lean in across the table, you knew you were in trouble.
Not only did he wipe the sauce off your lips with his thumb, but he licked it off of his finger, never breaking eye contact throughout the whole ordeal. Your whole body tensed and you swear you stopped breathing for a second. 
It only really lasted maybe five seconds, but felt like hours to you. You glared at him for a bit before diving back into your chicken, hoping you didn’t look as flustered as you felt. But Jihoon and his stupid, proud smirk probably knew what he’d done to you. As if that wasn’t enough already, he even had the audacity to whisper cute under his breath. Your eyes snapped back up to his face, but he just smiled and nodded towards your food, telling you to keep eating. 
Over the next week, the word cute refused to leave your mind. You kept replaying that scene over and over - the feeling of Jihoon’s thumb on your lips, the sight of his own lips around his thumb, his gaze through it all. It wasn’t the first time such thoughts of Jihoon plagued you - once, he’d guided you through a crowded club with a hand on your lower back and the way the warmth of his hand against you had made you feel prompted you to ignore him for the rest of the night. Another time, he’d kissed you on the forehead after dropping you off at your apartment and you hadn’t been able to look him in the eyes for the following week. 
You took the small but meaningful events of that day as your second sign of your new odd feelings directed towards your best friend, feelings that you didn’t know how to name just yet.
--
Crazy rich Yoon Jaehyuk was having a pool party at his house, and basically everyone was invited. If you knew about the party, you could go - all Jaehyuk had to do was to tell maybe ten people and let them spread the word. As his partner for an English Linguistics class you had together that semester, you were one of those privileged people who’d known firsthand about the event and had made sure to tell everyone you knew to come. You shouldn’t have been so surprised to find what must’ve already been a hundred people on the front lawn, inside the house and around the pool when you showed up with Jihoon and the rest of your friends there.
Coincidentally, this was when the third sign occurred. Third time’s a charm, as they say, and the events of that night and those following cemented your growing hunch that something really was up.
Pre-drinks at yours and Minjeong’s place had already taken quite a toll on you. Jaehyuk lived at the edge of town, quite a ways from your flat, but the vodka cranberry you’d snuck in on the bus prevented you from sobering up during the long ride. When your group arrived at the party, both you and Minjeong were ready to dance. But before you could rush to wherever the dancefloor was, Jihoon caught you by the wrist, effectively stopping you in your tracks. Your eyes went from his fingers around your wrist to his smiling face, a surprised look on your own. 
“We’re gonna head directly to the pool. Don’t drink too much, okay?”
Your lips blossomed with a smile. Typical Jihoon. “Okay.”
The alcohol probably had something to do with it, but a surge of affection for your friend hit you and you stood on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek before taking Minjeong’s hand in yours and making a beeline in the direction of the music.
I Gotta Feeling by the Black Eyed Peas was calling your name and you didn’t think to turn around to look at Jihoon, so you missed the way he watched your figure retreating into the mass of drunk students as he tried to commit the warmth of your lips against his cheek to memory.
You and Minjeong made your way to the center of the crowd, shrieking with drunken excitement when you found a group of girls from one of your shared classes there and exchanging very brief pleasantries before falling into the rhythm of one of your all-time favorite party songs. In your humble opinion, no one understood partying like The Black Eyed Peas did.
You only leave the dancefloor on one occasion, which is to take a round of vodka shots with your new best friends for the night - Jihoon had said not to drink too much, not not at all. One of the girls (Yunjin, you thought, but she showed up to class so seldom you weren’t sure) had a trick of pouring a lick of strawberry syrup before the alcohol, so that you wouldn’t be hit with the nail polish remover aftertaste of vodka. You were delighted to find it worked (almost) like magic.
It’s about an hour later when you and Minjeong reach the pool, not quite sober but more so than when you’d arrived at the party. For a pool party, there were definitely less people there than inside the house, maybe due to the fact that it was the end of February and most people didn’t want to risk getting hypothermia from the temperature difference between the heated pool and the cold outside. 
The relatively small number of people makes it easy to spot Jihoon, in nothing but his swimming trunks and a towel around his shoulders, sitting on a longchair a dozen or so meters away from you. Something about half-naked Jihoon, you’re not sure what, makes you want to walk over to him and do… you’re not sure what, but Minjeong frantically slapping your arm and whispering your name stops you from doing whatever it was you wanted to do. 
“Y/N! Y/N! Yoshi is right there,” she whisper-yelled. Indeed, Yoshi was in the pool, not far from where you stood, playing with his friends you recognized from pre-drinks at his place the other day. Minjeong’s face was redder than you’d ever seen it, and you recalled a conversation you’d had earlier that day.
“Will Yoshi be there?” Minjeong had asked, trying to sound innocent.
You’d looked at your flatmate with an incredulous look on your face. “Yes, he’ll be there, you slut. I thought you never went for a second time?”
She’d shrugged, an unusually shy smile playing on her lips as she looked down at her feet. “I don’t know, we’ll see.”
This was very unlike Minjeong - in your six months of knowing each other, it was the first time you ever saw her even consider getting with someone a second time. You didn’t know what sort of spell this Yoshi guy had cast on your friend, but it must’ve been very effective. 
“Go talk to him,” you simply said.
“What?! No way, I can’t- Oh my God, he’s looking at us,” she said, words rushing out of her mouth, “he’s looking right at us, isn’t he?”
You just laughed at your friend and waved at Yoshi who was already waddling towards your edge of the pool. “Hey, Yoshi!” you called excitedly. At the sound of your voice, Jihoon’s head snapped towards you. He wasted no time in yelling your name, motioning for you to come over, so you gestured back that you’d be there in a minute. 
“Hey, Y/N!” Yoshi called back with the same tone. “Hey, Minjeong,” he added, tone somewhat quiet, but the blush that grew on his cheeks told you you weren’t the one he was most happy to see. 
“Hey, Yoshi,” she said so quietly, you weren’t sure the boy could even hear her.
“Nice to see you guys here,” he said, talking to you but glancing nervously at Minjeong. 
“You too!” you replied, and before he could add anything, you placed a hand on your friend’s shoulder. “Well, I’m sure the two of you have a lot to talk about. See you later!”
You grinned innocently at Minjeong as she called your name, eyes wide in panic. She was a big girl, and Yoshi was clearly into her - she could handle herself. Jihoon eyed you amusedly as you made your way towards him.
“Are you setting them up?” he asked when you were within earshot of him.
“I’d be a bad friend if I didn’t at least try. I’ve never seen Minjeong blush over a guy, so this must be serious.”
A few of Jihoon’s friends were hanging out next to him, people that you knew from the many parties you attended together but that you rarely saw outside of drinking contexts. You waved at them before sitting on the deckchair next to Jihoon’s. He pivoted in his seat to face you, seemingly not minding that he’d just turned his back to his friends, then scooched his chair closer to yours so that your knees touched. You rested your palms next to your thighs and kept your gaze down. Something about Jihoon kept you from meeting his eyes, tonight. Maybe it was the half-nakedness.
Jihoon eyed you for a little bit, wondering what was making you so unusually quiet, before looking behind his shoulder to check whether Minjeong had been able to make progress on her own.
“Looks like it’s going well,” he assessed.
You followed his gaze to find Minjeong sitting at the edge of the pool and kicking her legs in the water while Yoshi stood next to her, water up to his belly button. You smiled as they giggled and splashed each other - it was going well, indeed. 
“Have you been in the pool yet?” you asked, shifting your gaze to the party-goers playing in the water. The echoes of people talking and water splashing were quite loud, but Jihoon was so close that you didn’t need to raise your voice too much. 
“No, I just took my shirt off for the hell of it.” 
You had meant to bring your eyes up to his face, you really had - but somewhere on the way, they stopped on his abs, and got stuck there. It was probably a full five seconds before you could look away from the well-defined muscles on his stomach and finally meet his eyes. He didn’t need to say anything - the smirk playing on his lips and the slight surprise in the raise of his brows were enough to tell you he had not missed your stare. 
You looked back to the pool, eyebrows slightly creased in shame at having been so obvious. Thankfully, you had brought a drink with you and took a swig of it there. “I wouldn’t put it past you.”
You were trying to ignore the way Jihoon’s eyes burned into the side of your face, the way they followed your every move, but with each passing second, you felt more conscious of them. Not unlike one would try to escape a wasp, you thought that going into the pool might tear Jihoon’s eyes away from you at least for a little bit. It’s not that his gaze made you uncomfortable, like that of a random old man in the street would, but it definitely made you feel… things. Things that you didn’t necessarily want to dive into. 
The problem was that, to go into the pool, you’d need to get into your swimsuit. You’d thought ahead and had come already clad into your bikini underneath your clothes, a black, strapless tube dress that was easy to take off so you could jump into the pool at any time. But getting rid of that dress right in front of Jihoon and his watchful eyes was more nerve-wracking than you’d imagined. 
You downed the rest of your cup for some liquid courage and shot up from your seat, releasing a deep breath as you did so. You thought it was better to just get it over with than make it last any longer than it needed to. Jihoon’s eyes glinted with amusement as they followed your every move.
“Let’s go back in.” 
Your plan had been to lift your dress off of your body and head straight to the pool, but Jihoon’s gaze made you freeze in place after stripping. You couldn’t quite describe it as lustful, or as hungry, because there was a hint of surprise there that softened it. It was like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing and loving it at the same time, if the slowly growing smirk on his lips was anything to go by. Your whole body felt like it was on fire, a fire that made your knees turn to jelly and that rendered you close to breathless.
You let his curious eyes travel your body for a few seconds before clearing your throat. “Do you want a picture or something?” you asked ironically, hoping your voice didn’t sound as shaky as you felt.
His smirk only widened. “No need. The real thing is so much better.”
You tried not to cower under his shameless gaze, instead stood up straighter and stared right back at him. “My eyes are up here, you know.”
“I know,” he replied, but his eyes stayed trained on your body. You watched as they slowly made their way up your legs, took in your stomach and waist, then paused on your chest, which was quickly falling and rising with your shallow breathing. It was only when you scoffed and crossed your arms that he looked at your face.
Still that lopsided smirk on his lips, he stood up and languidly made his way towards you. He came so close that you had to slightly crane your neck to meet his gaze.
Your heart raced as he let a few seconds of silence stretch between the two of you, keeping his eyes locked in yours. “Nice eyes,” he murmured after a pause, the sudden depth of his voice sending a shiver down your spine.
After six months of seeing him almost every day, one would think Jihoon’s flirty personality would not have such an effect on you anymore. And most of the time, it didn’t - even back in the day, he was already fond of teasing you, so usually, him telling you how pretty you looked, patting your head or him tucking stray strands of hairs behind your ear went somewhat unnoticed by you. Or at least, it was easier not to freak out over “small” things like these.
But this was one of the times when you thought he was really pushing it, and you lost the ability to even eye-roll, which was your usual defense against his flirting attacks. You hated to admit, but you just couldn’t pretend it didn’t have an effect on you. You hated it because you knew he was just flirting as a joke, not because he was actually interested or anything of the sort, and you felt stupid that it still did something to you - although you sometimes doubted whether he really was doing it just for fun. You wanted to think he was acting the way he was on purpose, to get a reaction out of you. It’d make you feel less of a fool.
Before you’d even had time to understand the meaning behind his words, he’d already walked away from you and to the pool. When your senses had come back and you spun around, he was already inside the water. He looked like a cute wet puppy with his hair sticking out all around his head, especially when he shook it and let droplets of water fall off his hair and splash around him, and you couldn’t believe this was the same man that had essentially called your tits nice just moments prior.
The raging butterflies in your stomach were your third sign.
You must’ve stared long, because after a while, your eyes met again, and a smile reappeared on his face. An actual smile, this time, not a smirk or anything of the sort. As if nothing had just happened - as if it was absolutely natural for your best friend to practically devour you with his eyes like that. 
He waved you over and you noticed Minjeong and Yoshi were with him, seemingly waiting for you as well. When you reached the edge of the pool, someone entered the room with a platter of shots of God knows what, and you immediately reached out for one and downed it. Sambuca, you realized with relief as the sweet liquid burned its way down your throat. That way, if your body kept buzzing the way it had been around Jihoon, you could blame it on the alcohol and nothing else.
Minjeong and Yoshi were already back in their new little world, but Jihoon watched with an amused grin as you measured the temperature of the water with a foot, then, deeming it warm enough, made your way towards your friends. There, the water reached up to your shoulders, and the fact that it got up to just a little bit under Jihoon’s chest only marked your height difference further, which shouldn’t have made you as flustered as it did.
“Didn’t I tell you not to drink too much before going into the water?” Jihoon asked, laughter clear in his voice.
“How about you let me drink as much as I want, and make sure I don’t drown?” you bit back, even though you knew it wasn’t much of a comeback. You had spoken in an irritated tone that, going by the way his smile softened, Jihoon found cute.
“Okay, I will,” he said, and the sweetness in his tone only served to further unnerve you.
If he noticed your annoyance, he didn’t say anything. 
You let yourself be convinced to play a game of chicken fight against Minjeong and Yoshi, which (along with that shot of Sambuca) made your competitive streak kick in and allowed you to, at least momentarily, forget about your irritation towards your friend. The reason behind that irritation was something you didn’t even want to think about.
Somehow, you endured the prickling on your skin as Jihoon kept your thighs tightly pressed around his shoulders with two big hands. Even when he squeezed the flesh there or craned his neck to look up at you with those big, round eyes of his, you managed to not let the way your stomach flipped get to your head. 
You weren’t sure how you won all three rounds of chicken fight, if it was thanks to Jihoon’s devotion to the gym, or yours to the free weekly Sunday morning pilates class your uni gym offers. It might’ve been down to the level of complicity you and Jihoon had built over the months that Yoshi and Minjeong hadn’t reached yet (if that can even be a factor in chicken fight success) - all you know, is that you do, and that even underwater, Jihoon’s hands burn as they snake their way around your waist, and press your body flush to his in a celebratory hug.
Some time later, you sit at the edge of the pool by yourself, having been deserted by the two lovebirds who not-so-sneakily snuck away under the pretext of getting some drinks, as well as by Jihoon who was called by some friends to join him back in the pool. You were at the level of tipsiness that made you want to self-introspectively sit on your own and people-watch for a little bit.
Until someone broke your peace.
“Hey, Y/N,” you heard a vaguely familiar voice say. Before you could respond, Kim Sunwoo was sitting next to you, a bit too close in your opinion for your level of acquaintance, clad in black swimming trunks that let the band of his Calvin Klein underwear peek through. 
He wasn’t half bad-looking, you decided in that instant.
“Oh, hi, Sunwoo,” you replied, smiling as you unquestioningly accepted the drink he offered you and thanked him for it. You peered at the orange liquid and decided it was the right color for alcohol before taking a sip. It being orange vodka didn’t come as much of a surprise. “I didn’t know you knew my name,” you admitted.
You recognized Sunwoo’s face from the Introduction to Literary Theory lecture you’d had last semester, and had learned his name when the lecture had to be online due to the professor falling ill, and he was one of the few brave students who had turned his camera on. With a face like his, you understood where the confidence came from.
Then, one night out on the town with Minjeong and other friends, you’d run into him at the counter of a bar, and had exchanged a few (flirty, if you recalled correctly) words, but not your names, hence the slight confusion.
He chuckled and you watched as two deep dimples appeared on his cheeks. “I did my research before coming here. Sadly, no one knew what kind of drink you liked, so I went for something basic and prayed.”
“This is perfect,” you said, laughing.
“To be perfectly honest,” he starts after a slight pause, “I’ve seen you around campus, and we even saw each other at a bar once, didn’t we?” he asks, and grins when you nod. “I felt stupid for never asking for your name, or your number. So when I saw you sitting here, I thought it must be fate that brought me to this party.”
You had barely registered his words, let alone formed any sort of response in your mind when Jihoon suddenly appeared in front of the two of you, placing a hand right next to your thigh on the pool edge. You hadn’t noticed him swimming your way.
“Hey, Sunwoo. I see you’ve met my girlfriend,” Jihoon blatantly lies as if it was the most natural thing in the world. The shock is apparent on Sunwoo’s face, and if it wasn’t for the sweet, convincing smile Jihoon was looking at you with, you might’ve let your surprise show more.
Sunwoo didn’t know Jihoon like you did, so you didn’t know whether he noticed the tightness in his grin, the challenge in his slightly raised eyebrows, or the general way he was holding himself that screamed Leave. But he must’ve noticed something, because it only took him a few seconds to start nodding slowly and rise from his seat.
For some reason, you stayed quiet, letting the word girlfriend and the way it had rolled off Jihoon’s tongue so easily repeat over and over again in your head. Maybe it was the alcohol, but he had said it so convincingly that you almost questioned whether you actually were Jihoon’s girlfriend. Before you could think any more about it, however, Sunwoo broke the increasingly tense silence.
“My bad, man, I didn’t know she was taken. I’ll leave you two to it, then,” he said with a smile, and that was that. 
You watched his retreating figure for a bit, eyebrows creased in confusion, before snapping your head towards Jihoon. Head tilted, he was fixing you with a questioning look, as if to ask, What are you up to?, when he was the one that had just acted strangely.
“What was that all about?” you asked.
Jihoon shrugged. “I chased him away for you. I’ve only heard bad stuff about that guy, like he sleeps with a new girl every weekend and doesn’t treat them right.”
You thought for a second, bottom lip slightly jutting out in concentration. “Well, couldn’t you have told me about his reputation then let me make the decision for myself?”
“I-” Jihoon started but stopped himself. He seemed to mull over your words for a bit, then sighed. “You’re right, I guess I could have, but you’ve been drinking, who knows if you would’ve made the right decision?”
This made you furrow your brows. “So what if I did? Getting drunk and going home with a rando is not unheard of, I would’ve been fine. Just maybe ashamed tomorrow morning.”
A flash of annoyance swept across Jihoon’s features, and your curiosity couldn’t help but be piqued. The two of you had had your fair share of aimless arguments over the months, but he’d never actually gotten cross with you. For some reason, you were suddenly itching to know what angry Jihoon was like.
“I wouldn’t be fine with it, though. I’d hate knowing that I let you go home with a prick like that.”
This wasn’t the first time Jihoon had fended off guys for you during a night out, but to his credit, they weren’t ever guys you wanted to talk to. And, well, admittedly, after learning what he was like, maybe you didn’t want to talk to Sunwoo either, but Jihoon’s protectiveness tonight was bothering you more than it ever had. 
You let a silence stretch between the two of you before speaking again. “You- you can’t just do that, you know,” you declared, not meeting his eyes.
“Do what?”
“Act like you just did. Pretending to be my boyfriend just to get a guy away from me.” Jihoon was just staring at you silently, so you felt compelled to add,  “You’re not actually my boyfriend, you know.”
Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say, because his jaw locked and a coldness you had never seen before appeared in his eyes.
“Aren’t I basically?”
That caught you off guard. Where was this coming from? Jihoon had never entertained the idea of being your boyfriend, ever, so why was he suddenly acting like he was? Like he had always been?
And yet, you found yourself toying with the idea of dating Jihoon once more. The one question that pervaded your thoughts was, would things be so different? You’d never had a boyfriend, so you weren’t sure what they did, but you thought it wouldn’t be too far off from how Jihoon treated you now. Keep you safe, bring you food, buy you random keychains or pencils that reminded him of you, text you throughout the day, compliment you. The only difference would be…
Your eyes drifted down to his lips, and you swore you heard a shaky intake of breath coming from the man right in front of you.
The thought had barely crossed your mind that panic rose in your chest. You could not be thinking about kissing Jihoon. You couldn’t think about him being your boyfriend, either. You weren’t sure why, but your sudden heart palpitations at the mere idea told you that you just couldn’t.
“No, you’re not.” You had wanted to speak firmly, but you feared your voice had come out shakier than intended.
To your surprise, Jihoon scoffed. “So if I went off and started dating someone else, it wouldn’t bother you?” he asked in a disbelieving, almost mocking tone.
“No, it wouldn’t,” you answered, and as soon as the words were out, you knew they were a lie. You scrambled to your feet, suddenly wanting to be away from this conversation and the way it made you feel. “I’ll, um, I’ll head back inside.”
You ignored his call of your name and picked up your dress, hastily sliding it back on as you made your way back towards the living room where most of the action was. You quickly found that it was too loud, too hot, too packed in there. You headed back outside through another door that led to a part of the backyard far from the pool, where people sat in small groups around a big fire, either nursing a drink or passing round a joint, the smell of weed heavy in the air. At least it was quiet here.
You walked around some before spotting Jaehyuk, the man of the house himself, sitting on his lonesome on a swing bench in a dark corner of the garden, looking down despondently into a red solo cup. A couple hours into the party, this was the first time you saw him, you realized. It made you wonder how long he’d been sitting out here on his own.
“Hey, Jaehyuk,” you greeted, catching him by surprise. You took a seat next to him, sliding your hands underneath your thighs to keep them warm.
“Oh, hey, Y/N. Nice that you came.” He mustered a smile for you before taking a swig from his cup and cringing at the taste of what must’ve been alcohol.
“What are you doing out here by yourself?” you asked softly. You were used to cheery, smiley Jaehyuk, and even though you weren’t very close, you couldn’t help but be saddened by seeing your friend in such a state.
Jaehyuk sighed deeply. “The girl I planned this party for isn’t here.”
“The girl you… planned… this party for?” you echoed, and he nodded. “You mean this,” you said, gesturing to the house and backyard full to the brim with people, “is all for one girl?”
He sighed and nodded again, taking another sip from his cup. He tutted at the drink, or maybe at himself for drinking it when he knew how awful it tasted. “I wanted an excuse to see her outside of class.” He chuckled. “I realize now that I might have gone slightly overboard.”
“Just a bit,” you laughed along, watching as a group of stoners cheered at their friend who had found marshmallows and sticks God-knows-where. “It’s not even midnight yet, she might still be coming.”
Jaehyuk shrugged. “I’ve stopped hoping. I think I just need to get into the party and forget about it for tonight.”
You smiled. “Sounds like a plan.”
“What about you, what made you escape out here? The music not to your liking?”
“Are you kidding? This is the Danish alternative pop playlist of my dreams,” you said, earning a chuckle from him. “No, I just…” You realized you didn’t even know how to talk about this. What was making you so upset?
“I got into a bit of a… squabble with my friend, if you will. He-”
“Oh, so it’s a he?” Jaehyuk cut in, a knowing smile on his face.
“No- I mean, yes, he is, but it’s not like that, it’s- it’s…”
“It’s?” he egged on.
“Ugh, fine, it might be like that,” you finally admitted, as much to Jaehyuk as to yourself. Your irritation made him laugh.
“It’s okay, it happens.”
“I didn’t think it would happen to me, though.”
“Why not?”
You sighed. “Just ‘cause… him and I, we’ve known each other for such a long time, it feels weird that things would start changing now.”
“How long have you known each other?”
“We met when we were thirteen and fourteen. Then he moved away and we only met again in September last semester.”
“Did you keep in touch?”
“Not so much. I just heard from him through my brother, they’re much closer.”
“So… what I’m hearing is, you’ve known each other a long time, but you’ve only really become friends since September, right?”
“Right,” you echoed dubitatively, wondering where Jaehyuk was going.
“Y/N, that’s just a bit over six months.”
“...So?”
“So, that’s not nearly as long as you make it out to be. It’s not like you’ve been best friends for years and things are suddenly changing. Six months… aren’t that short, I’ll give you that, but I think it’s a reasonable time for people to get closer as friends and then start developing feelings.”
“Feelings?” you immediately echoed, panic evident in your voice.
Jaehyuk let out something like a chuckle, looking at you like he was figuring out whether you were joking or not. “Is that not what this whole thing is about?”
You dropped your gaze down to your thighs, frowning. “Feelings just sound so serious…”
“They can be, but they don’t have to.” After a few seconds of silence, he noticed your upset expression and nudged your shoulder good-naturedly. “What’s worrying you so much?”
“It’s just confusing. I… It’s not like I’ve been totally indifferent towards him up ‘til now, but there’s something about him lately, especially tonight. It makes me actually wonder about… you know. Whether I want him as a friend or not.” You sighed. “And even if I am feeling… feelings, I don’t know how he sees me. I could still be a sort of little sister in his eyes, for all I know.”
“What makes you think that?”
A small smile grew on your lips as you blew air from your nose. “Junkyu - my older brother - tasked him with looking after me when he learned I was going to attend this university with him. So, while I go crazy trying to figure out why he acts the way he acts and why I feel the way I feel, he might just be keeping a promise to my brother.”
“But have you ever seen him as an older brother?”
“No,” you replied immediately. Your surety almost took you aback. “Jihoon is… Jihoon. He’s definitely not Junkyu.”
Jaehyuk smiled. “Then I don’t think he would see you as a little sister, either. The way you act with a sibling and with a friend, potentially someone you like, is very different. I don’t think there’d be room for question if he treated you as a younger sister, you’d just know. Most guys I know are very obvious when they like someone, me included, so if you’re thinking about this so much just because of the way he acts with you… well, you’re probably onto something.”
“You think?” 
“I do.” 
You and Jaehyuk stayed outside chatting for a few more minutes until you decided to go back inside for some warmth and a refill of your empty cups. In the kitchen, you ran into some of your classmates, so you joined in their animated discussion on which version of The Sims is better (Asahi offended everyone by saying the mobile app was the best) instead of going looking for Minjeong and Jihoon like you had intended to.
A few minutes later, as your phone buzzed with six consecutive texts from your roommate, you found out where both of them were. 
minjeong girl do u know how many bedrooms there are in this goddamn house??!!!! yoshi and i are spending the night here xxx ask jaehyuk if he has a room for u or get home w jihoon whos that girl he’s talkin to in the kitchen btw??? love yaa xxxxxoooo text me if u need anything!! i’ll be busy but i’ll keep my phone on ;)
Usually, you’d have rolled your eyes at the exorbitant amount of x’s and the cheesy winky face, but something else had got your attention. Suddenly stepping away mentally from the conversation (which had turned into an interrogation on Asahi’s suspected addiction to mobile games), you looked around the crowded kitchen until your eyes settled on your culprit.
From where you were, you only had a view of his side profile, just as Minjeong had said, Jihoon was talking to a girl, red solo cup in his hand and stupidly attractive smile on his lips. She was leaning against the wall while he stood in front of her, both looking as relaxed as if they had known each other for years. What was up with all that eye contact? What was making them smile so hard?
You hadn’t realized how hard you were staring until Jaehyuk’s voice broke through your thoughts, asking if you were okay. 
“You look like you want to kill someone,” Sumin joked, not knowing she was closer to the truth than she thought.
You tried to laugh it off, saying you were just deeply disturbed by Asahi’s predicament, but you couldn’t keep yourself from glancing back at Jihoon and the girl every thirty seconds. Another girl arrived, and Jihoon shifted to make room for her so that he was now directly facing you. Over the chatter of the kitchen and music booming from the speakers in the living room, you couldn’t hear anything they were saying, but it seemed like Girl #1 was introducing Jihoon to Girl #2, placing a palm on his bicep as she did so. You counted - that hand stayed there for four whole seconds, and when she finally took it off of him, your eyes drifted back to Jihoon’s face.
Jihoon, who was staring right at you. Jihoon, who raised his eyebrows at you as if to say, What about it? while yours were creased in - confusion, anger, you weren’t sure what, but an ugly feeling you weren’t accustomed to. Jihoon, who, you decided, had to know what he was doing, had to know how this was making you feel.
The only thing on your mind was getting out of here and taking Jihoon with you. Without thinking much, you fished your phone out of your sweater pocket, texted Jihoon Let’s go and said bye to your friends, lying that your friend had suddenly asked you to leave.
After a few minutes of waiting by yourself outside in the cold, crouching to maximize body warmth, you started to wonder if Jihoon had decided to not follow you. But when you felt a weight drop on your shoulders, you snapped your head up to find him smiling down at you. 
“Where did you get this?” you asked, meaning the blanket he had given you.
“I stole it from the living room.”
“Jihoon,” you scolded.
“You know the guy right? Just give it back to him this week,” he said, lowering himself down to your level. Similarly to your eye contact in the kitchen, you were still frowning while he kept on smiling. “Not like you to want to leave before one a.m.. Is something the matter?” he asked, and you debated whether he was faking his innocence or not.
For about ten seconds, you tried to stay quiet, not wanting to betray your feelings to him. You glared ahead of you, watching your breath form wisps in the late February night air. 
But then he called your name so softly, it undid all of your resolve. The sound of it made you sigh.
“Who was that you were talking to?” you finally asked, voice barely above a whisper.
“Hm? That was just Shuhua, she’s a Tawainese exchange student from one of my classes. Then she introduced me to her friend Yuqi.”
You nodded slowly, still not meeting Jihoon’s gaze. “I didn’t know there was a Taiwainese exchange student in one of your classes.”
“Y/N?” The unexpected seriousness with which he had called your name forced you to look at him.
“Hm.”
“I have something to tell you.” He must’ve noticed your sudden inability to speak, so he continued, lowering his head to be at eye-level with you. “There’s a Taiwainese exchange student in one of my classes.”
A smile broke through his serious facade and you had to look away to hide your own growing grin. “You’re stupid,” you said, but it only made Jihoon laugh.
“So is that what this is all about? A little bout of jealousy from my Y/N?”
You didn’t know what to focus on - the fact that he had finally put a name to what you were feeling or the face that he had called you his. It made you frown. “I wasn’t jealous,” you said, aware of how unbelievable you sounded.
“No? Then what made you want to leave so suddenly?”
“I- You-” you started, glaring at Jihoon when he snickered. “How come I can’t talk to guys but it’s okay for you to talk to girls?” 
“So you are jealous.”
“No, I just think you’re being unfair. I’m calling you out on your hypocrisy, Hoon. Double standards and all that.” 
Jihoon grinned. Had he known that he’d get such a reaction from you after talking to a friend that happened to be a girl, he’d have done it much earlier. And yet you had never had a problem with any of the girls in his usual friend group - if anything, the bunch of you often ganged up against him - so he wondered what was wrong with Shuhua in particular. Was it because you didn’t know her, and misunderstanding could arise?
His smile and eyes softened. No matter how adorable you looked to him right now, he wasn’t one to play games with feelings, his or yours. It was hard enough to make you realize how much he liked you (although he hoped that scene at the pool had made things more apparent), so he wasn’t going to make it even more confusing by letting you think he might like someone else.
Earlier, when he’d asked you if him dating someone else would bother you, and you’d answered no, he hadn’t formed any plan whatsoever to go off and talk to another girl right in front of you. Things just happened in his favor. He’d been talking with a whole group of people in the kitchen, but save for Jennifer, they’d all left for a game of spin the bottle (at their grown college age). Shuhua had a boyfriend back home and he had you, so they both had no interest for it. So it was just the two of them bonding over their love for Taylor Swift’s music when you appeared in the kitchen with Jaehyuk. 
Did he also feel a pang of jealousy seeing you with another guy, even though it was just Jaehyuk and he already knew of your friendship? Perhaps, but this wasn’t anything new with Jihoon. He didn’t think he’d be able to get rid of it until he had the surety that you were his, which had felt like a faraway goal until recently. Maybe it was due to his growing boldness or maybe you had managed to piece everything together yourself, but he was sure he’d felt a shift in your attitude towards him lately. There were times you would get shyer than usual, refusing to look him in the eyes; other times, like tonight, you’d defy him, as if trying to prove to both him and yourself you didn’t feel any sort of way towards him. But he hadn’t missed the way your eyes had drifted down to his lips and stayed there for a few seconds, hadn’t missed your panic when things seemed to get too real.
Just like you, although he didn’t know about that, he also found that there was something different about tonight, some tension between the two of you that was bound to explode. The fact that you were both in swimsuits had probably not helped. As soon as he’d seen you in your black tube dress, his imagination had started running wild. The way you casually had a gray zip sweatshirt of his in your room and donned it before leaving your place had made it harder to not just keep you in your apartment while the others went off to the party, and seeing you in your bikini was like the final boss he hadn’t been able to defeat. Keeping his eyes off of you was simply impossible. He wasn’t sure how he had resisted kissing you right then and there, showing everyone who the prettiest girl in the room - hell, at this party - belonged to.
(Jihoon had a bit of a possessive streak.)
Even now that you had somewhat made up, he still felt the changed air around you, like there was no going back from here. No pretending there were no unsaid feelings anymore - at least, that’s how he felt. If you needed the extra push to realize either his feelings, your own, or both, he didn’t mind initiating it. If anything, he had been waiting for it.
So he made sure to clear things up. “I didn’t want you to talk to Sunwoo because I knew he had bad intentions. Or at least selfish ones. Shuhua has a boyfriend, nothing was gonna happen there.”
“Oh, but if she didn’t, something would’ve?”
“No, Y/N. No,” Jihoon said firmly. 
“Why not? She’s pretty.” You knew you were being unreasonable at this point, arguing for the sake of arguing, but you couldn’t help yourself.
Jihoon sighed before placing a hand at the top of your head, brushing your hair gently. “I know someone who’s prettier.”
You turned your head slowly to look at him and were met with a sight you forever wanted to keep in your heart. Jihoon was looking down at you, eyes soft and filled with an emotion you wanted to describe as adoration, corners of his lips upturned into a sweet smile. You wanted to reach out and touch his cheek, feel the warmth of his skin under your palm and make sure he was real, but you were too stuck in his gaze to move.
“I actually know the prettiest girl in the world. I’m very lucky.”
You continued staring at each other for a few seconds or maybe a few hours, until he booped your nose and stood up. “Our Uber’s here, pretty girl.” 
You took his extended hand in yours and let him help you up, still in a daze as he opened the car door for you and rushed to the other side. You didn’t expect the relief you felt when he took your hand in his again as the Uber started driving. As the driver and him made minimal small talk, you watched out the window, but you couldn’t hear or see anything - you could only focus on Jihoon’s fingers intertwined with yours. Had hand-holding always felt so natural?
Even once you reached your apartment and you had to let go of it to get out of the car, the only thing you wanted was to have it again. 
You didn’t notice right away, as you punched in the code for the entrance to your apartment building, that Jihoon had stayed behind on the pavement. A light rain had started and his hair, all curled up from the pool, shone with small beads of water that the streetlights reflected on. 
“Aren’t you coming up?” you asked, turning around to face him and leaning against the door so it wouldn’t close.
“Not tonight,” he simply said, and you hesitated to ask him why. Whatever it was, he must have his reason, and you would see him again soon anyway, so you dropped it.
“Okay.” You nodded and hoped you didn’t sound as disappointed as you felt. 
You thought that would be it, but then he took a step closer to you, then another, until he was standing right in front of you. The doorstep made you taller so that your eyes were on a parallel with his lips, on which they naturally fell. No matter how confusing tonight might have been, if what you thought was about to happen actually did happen, you knew there was not a cell in your body that would resist it.
Jihoon leaned in closer and closer, until he was right there, and your lips would touch any second - but he leaned to the right, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips instead. You stood with bated breath as he leaned back, wearing a proud smirk. “Good to know you wouldn’t push me away if I tried to kiss you,” he said, but on this rare occasion, you were speechless. 
His smirk softened to a smile as he ruffled your hair. “Good night, Y/N.”
It wasn’t until he had reached the corner, turning around and waving at you to go into your building before disappearing that you snapped out of it and made your way to your apartment. As soon as you’d shut your front door behind you, you realized just how disappointed you felt that Jihoon hadn’t come up like he usually did, how much you missed the reassurance of having him there, even if the two of you were a room apart. 
You also realized you didn’t want any walls to separate you anymore.
And there you had it - the signs were too obvious to ignore anymore. The heart flutterings, the thoughts of him invading your mind day and night, the jealousy. The constant longing to be with him.
You were in love with Park Jihoon.
--
You fell into a deep sleep for about four hours, before waking up with a start.
You were in love with Park Jihoon.
What had seemed like a comforting thought at the time now freaked you out to no end. Park Jihoon was your best friend, your brother’s best friend, someone you’d met so long ago he’d known you during your embarrassing bangs phase of 2015 (BangGate, as your friends from home inappropriately liked to call it).
You were great as friends, sure, but how would you fare if things went further than that? There was no way for you to know other than by trying it firsthand. Did you want to take that leap, and risk falling face first - or chance falling right into his arms?
For some reassurance, you got your laptop out and went to Google. At first, you intended to search some YouTube videos or blog posts about successful best-friends-turned-lovers stories, but something deep inside your brain compelled you to type Omegle in the search bar. Even if it was five a.m. for you, it’d be a reasonable time of the day for people with good relationship advice somewhere, right?
In your interests, you typed love, relationship and advice, hoping this would lead you to your savior. After skipping a few naked men who apparently were into love too, two young girls appeared on your screen who, going off of their accent, were British. They looked about eleven and were doing their nails, not paying attention to their screen. NewJeans was playing in the background.
They were perfect.
“Hey, girls!” you said, cringing at the sound of your own voice.
They raised their heads in unison, looking at you for a second before coming closer to the screen, all wide smiles. One of them had braces with pink elastics. “Hey, girl!”
You decided you had no time to lose, so you directly told them you needed advice with a boy you liked. They nodded vigorously. So you told them everything - from how you and Jihoon had met, to reconnecting in September, to the events of the past few months (including a detailed rundown of what happened at the pool, which they loved). They even insisted on seeing a picture and squealed when you showed them. Your Jihoon really was handsome.
“So? What do you think I should do?” you asked when you were done recounting everything.
“I have this thing I do whenever I fancy someone,” the girl on the right started, while the other one munched on some sour candy. You nodded for her to continue. “It really helps me know if I should keep fancying them or if they’re not worth it. It’s called a compibi- compa- combali- Rosie, what was it again?”
“A compatibility test,” Rosie said, tongue blue from her candy.
“Right, that. It works like magic. Just the other week I thought for sure Leo was the cutest boy in school but then I did the test thing and got forty percent with him and a few days later he was dating Sarah anyway.”
“Sarah is terrible,” Rosie chipped in.
“Oh no!” you exclaimed.
“Yeah, really bad,” the other girl said, nodding. “But then, I did it with Martin and got eighty-six percent and we’ve been dating for ten days now, we have,” she finished proudly.
“That’s amazing.” You didn’t know if it was the lack of sleep or the conviction with which the girl spoke, but you were hooked. “How do I do it?” you asked, although you’d probably done it when you were their age too.
“Oh, it’s easy. You just type the comp- Rosie?”
“Compatibility.”
“That, test on Google and click any one of them and type in your name then his. Any of them will do, I’m sure,” she shrugged, reaching for a candy. 
“Okay, let me do it right now. Gimme a sec.” After a few clicks, you’d reached an early 2010s-style website called lovecalculator.com, all pink and cupids shooting their arrows into the sky. You typed in your name, then Jihoon’s, then pressed a shaky finger to the Enter bar.
“Oh my gosh!” you squealed. “We got ninety-nine percent!”
“Oh my gosh!” the girls yelped back, clapping and hugging each other in celebration.
“Girl, you need to go tell him right now,” non-Rosie said firmly.
“Right now,” Rosie echoed.
You pouted. “I can’t, it’s five a.m. right now.”
“You better go later then! You two are meant to be! You’ll last at least like, a month or two.” 
“At least.”
After thanking and saying good-bye to your new best friends, you spent a good three minutes staring at the big 99% in bright pink on your screen. This randomly generated number made you so happy that you took a screenshot and printed it out on Minjeong’s printer in the living room, then put it on your fridge for you to admire. You used a magnet Jihoon had gifted you for Christmas - it was a four-cut photobooth picture of you two you’d taken at the Christmas market. You thought you’d only taken the paper version, but he’d made you go get food for the both of you while he bought the magnet version as well.
Your mind at ease, you started heading back to your room, but you ran into someone right as you walked out of the kitchen.
You looked him up and down. Yoshinori was standing in your living room half-naked, looking like a deer caught in headlights. 
“H-hey, Y/N,” he said, breaking the silence first. “I’m sorry, I thought you were sleeping…”
“I woke up early,” you replied, unable to keep yourself from smiling at his awkwardness. “What are you doing?”
“Just, um, just getting some water.”
“And you have to come to my apartment to do that?”
“No, I, um- Someone called the cops, so Jaehyuk kicked all of us out.”
“I thought you were in a room somewhere?”
“Yeah, but we went outside to see what was happening, and he saw us, so we had to leave.”
“Right… Well, glad you made it back home safe.” The strangeness of the situation suddenly hit you, and you realized you should probably let the half-naked man get his glass of water and leave. “I’ll go back to my room, then.”
“Oh, right, see you, Y/N. And sorry.”
“No worries!” you said, waving his apology off and scurried off to your bedroom. You plopped into your bed with a satisfied sigh, hugging a plushie Jihoon had won for you at an arcade close to your chest. He really was everywhere.
When you woke up next, sunlight was pouring from the window into your room. You checked your phone - nine a.m.. Not early enough to go to late sleeper Jihoon’s place, but definitely early enough to call your probably still sleeping brother. You had to tell someone about your newfound revelation, and Minjeong next door was either asleep or busy.
Your phone rang with an outgoing call for so long that you thought Junkyu might simply not pick up. “I’m in love with Jihoon,” you blurted out as soon as your brother’s face appeared on screen. 
He paused for a second, taking your words in, then yawned and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. “Good morning to you too, Y/N.”
“I’m in love with Jihoon,” you repeated, more insistently.
“I heard you the first time.”
“Well, what do you think?!” you asked, impatience rising. You couldn’t believe your brother could be sarcastic in an emergency like this.
Junkyu frowned. “Uh, congratulations?”
You tutted. “Kyu, I’m serious about this!”
“I know, I can tell,” he said, chuckling. “Are you going to tell him?”
“I think I have to. I think… I think he feels the same way about me, actually.”
Junkyu rolled his eyes. “No shit, Sherlock.”
You paused. “Huh?”
“Everyone and their mom knows he’s in love with you, we were just all waiting for you to see it.”
“Huh?!” Junkyu shrugged. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?”
Your brother sighed. “Some things in life, you have to figure out on your own, sis. Like taxes.” You just frowned at him. “Well, how did you figure it out?”
“Now that you say it, I guess I should’ve noticed it earlier. But really what happened is I saw him talking to a girl.”
“Put the man in jail!”
“Shut up. And then we talked for a bit, and he didn’t outright say it, but he heavily implied that he… liked me.”
Junkyu scoffed. “That’s an understatement.”
You ignored your brother. “But I don’t know if I should wait for a bit or go tell him now-”
“Y/N. Please, put that man out of his misery and go tell him now.”
“Don’t you think he’d get upset if I confessed first? You know Jihoon, he gets proud about random things like that.”
“Believe me, he won’t care. He’ll just be happy you like him back after all this time.”
You thought for a second, a small smile blooming on your lips. “Does he really like me that much?”
Junkyu sighed. “He’s been harping on about you since we were fourteen. He probably keeps a diary or a boyblog where he just writes about you. Just go get him, girl.”
Your smile grew wider and your heart started beating faster, excitement growing in your stomach at the thought of seeing Jihoon again. “Okay, I will.” You and your brother stared at each other for a second, eyes wide in anticipation, until something struck you.
“Wait… You don’t mind, do you? Your sister and best friend dating?”
“I l-word both of you, so no, I don’t mind. I trust you both enough to not hurt each other. But I’m still your brother, so if that prick does anything to hurt you, I’ll kick his ass, okay?”
“Kyu, he bench-presses your weight as a joke.”
He squinted his eyes at you. “I’ll metaphorically kick his ass, then.”
“And what if I hurt him?”
Junkyu thought for a second. “I’ll… give you the silent treatment for a few days.”
“How scary,” you laughed.
“Anyways, congratulations in advance and all that, but for my mental health please pretend you’re not a couple in front of me and remember that premarital sex is a sin.”
“Will do! Bye, Kyu!”
--
Right after hanging up with your brother, you texted Jihoon, asking if you could come over. You quickly got ready, doing affirmations in the mirror to calm yourself down, and as soon as your phone pinged with Jihoon’s answer (miss me already?), you were out the door. It was usually a thirteen-minute walk between your and Jihoon’s place, but with the power of love, it only took you eight.
You felt like your body had gone on autopilot - instead of practicing over and over what you would say to him in your head, imagining all the terrible ways it could go or pacing back and forth in front of his apartment building, you just walked, the loud thumping of your heart in your ears drowning everything else out. You’d just get there and get it over with. 
Even when you had to wait for seven seconds (you counted) for Jihoon to open the door after you’d rung the doorbell, you didn’t start panicking. 
“Hey, Y/N, I just ordered some-”
“I love you.”
“Breakfast… You what?”
“I love you, Hoonie,” you beamed. The relief of letting those words free made tears pool in the corner of your eyes.
Jihoon just stared at you, mouth agape and expression like he couldn’t believe what was hearing. Reaching for your hand, he brought you closer to him and shut the door behind you, eyes never once leaving yours. Then, he pulled you into a hug, one so tight you’d be worried about your blood circulation being cut off if it wasn’t Jihoon’s arms you were in. 
“Can you say it again, please?” he asked, nose buried in your hair and voice weak like you’d never heard it before.
You tightened your hold around his waist. “I love you,” you whispered.
“Again?”
“I love you,” you repeated, giggling.
He laughed too, more out of relief than anything. “I love you, too.”
He leaned back and raised his hands to gently cup your face in his palms. The both of you were smiling like idiots from ear to ear, gazing into each other’s eyes. Tears streamed down your cheek and he wiped them away with a thumb before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.
“Took you long enough,” he said, making you laugh again.
“I know, I’m sorry.”
Jihoon shook his head. “Don’t be. You have no idea how happy I am right now.”
“I’m happy for you guys and all, but could you like, not do this here?” a voice interrupted you. You looked behind Jihoon’s shoulder to find Hyunsuk, one of his roommates, on the living room sofa, watching Brooklyn 99. You hadn’t even noticed him. In his defense, you were declaring your love for each other right next to him in the entrance hallway. 
“Oh, right, sorry, Suk. Let’s go into my room,” he said, tugging at your hand. 
The both of you burst into giggles as soon as the door shut behind you. Jihoon wasted no time in pulling you into another hug, and it felt like your whole body sighed as you let his warmth engulf you. You cursed yourself for not letting yourself have this earlier. You gently rocked from side to side together, as if slow dancing to a melody only the two of you could hear.
“I guess a little jealousy goes a long way, huh?” Jihoon said after a minute of silence.
“I wasn’t jealous,” you huffed, leaning back so he could see your frown.
“What made you realize your undying love for me, then?”
“I just… I thought we’d be good together. I realized how compatible we are, if you will.”
“Our compatibility? Did you only notice it last night?”
You grinned. “Guess I did,” you answered, just to tease him. Jihoon did not need to know about your love calculator epiphany.
He looked at you like you had hung the stars in the sky. You felt shy under his gaze, but you couldn’t get yourself to look away. “So does that mean we’re… boyfriend and girlfriend now?” he asked, making you burst into laughter. “Don’t make fun of me! It’s important to make things clear,” he complained between giggles.
“Yes, let’s be boyfriend and girlfriend.”
“Awesome,” he replied, then pursed his lips as if debating to say what he wanted to say next. “So, now that we’re boyfriend and girlfriend…”
“Yes, Hoon?”
“Does that mean I can kiss you?” he asked, a small smile playing on his lips that you mirrored.
“Please,” you whispered.
So he did.
When his lips touched yours, it was like a flower that had been waiting for the right moment finally bloomed inside your chest. It felt soft, and comforting, and just right. Like your lips had always meant to meet. 
At least, it started out that way. The fabric of Jihoon’s t-shirt bunched up in your hands while his cupped your face tenderly, your lips moving in a slow cadence against each other’s as if you had all the time in the world - and you did. You were both so filled to the brim with excitement that when you pulled away for a breather, you laughed together, foreheads resting against each other.
But then, you raised your hands and threaded your fingers through his hair, tugging on it gently as you deepened the kiss. You probably hadn’t done it on purpose, simply wanting to feel more of Jihoon out of some basic instinct - but it undid something in him. 
He slid his hands down the sides of your neck and your shoulders until they reached your arms, pulling on them to have your body closer to his. His hands then continued their journey down to your waist, where they sneaked themselves under your t-shirt. They ran up and up until almost your entire back was exposed to the fresh air in his room, the contrast between that and the fire-hot warmth of Jihoon’s hands against your bare skin making you shiver.
He walked you backwards until the back of your legs hit his mattress, unto which he helped you down gently, somehow not breaking the kiss as he did. One of his hands came to brush hair away from your face, while the other remained on your waist, after some time venturing onto your stomach, a sensitive spot for you that made you sigh into his mouth. He took that opportunity to slide his tongue against yours, yet another new sensation that made your head spin.
This was exceeding any expectations you had ever had for a first kiss. In fact, you had always thought first kisses were messy, awkward things, but this was nothing of the sort - your whole body was on edge, responding to every little movement on Jihoon’s part. Your fingers buzzed with a fizzy electricity that put your brain in a daze. You could do this forever, you thought. 
But forever was cut short by the sudden buzz of Jihoon’s phone. Jihoon started, practically leaping off of you and dramatically holding onto his chest when he realized it was just his phone that had interrupted you. The delivery person was calling him to announce their arrival. 
Jihoon pressed a kiss to your forehead, took a few steps, then came back to press another kiss, this time to your lips. Your stomach growled loudly while you waited for him, and you realized you still hadn’t eaten today. Add making out to that, you were ready to devour whatever it was Jihoon had ordered. 
The smell coming from the paper bag Jihoon held as he entered the room again made you close your eyes in bliss and take a deep whiff. “Johnny’s,” you whispered. “You know me so well.”
Johnny’s was your absolute favorite breakfast place in all of town. It had been opened a few years ago by a graduate of your university who had mastered the art of hangover food. From soups, to hash brown patties, to iced coffee, he knew exactly what it was that students needed after a night out. You could tell he had a lot of experience with that himself. He was kind of like a God amongst the student body of your university.
“Of course I do. I know your order from all of your favorite restaurants, and somehow you only realized yesterday that I was pathetically in love with you.”
You smiled sheepishly, taking a bite of your sausage and egg wrap. “How long are you going to hold this over my head?”
Jihoon grinned brightly. “Until I forget about it.”
“So never?”
“Precisely.”
He put on the next episode of your show, and for the next couple hours, the two of you stayed holed up in his room, cuddling once you were done with your food. Even though you had spent endless time watching shows or movies side by side, neither of you had ever dared initiate physical touch, no matter how much you’d wanted to. He’d been scared you’d pull away from him, and you’d been scared it’d be awkward. You hadn’t realized how much you’d longed for his proximity and warmth until you had it.
Save for his laptop screen, it’d been quiet for a while, and you thought you might fall asleep when Jihoon spoke. “I’m so glad I don’t need to pretend anymore,” he said as one episode finished and the next one started.
“Pretend what?”
“That I’m not desperately in love with you and that every single little thing you do doesn’t drive me insane.”
You giggled. “Does it?”
“Yes,” he whispered, his voice a heavy sigh, almost a groan. There was a slight edge to it, a deeper meaning behind that short yes that had your stomach suddenly feeling very tight.
“Oh,” was all you could answer. You suddenly wondered what you might have done without thinking that had had an effect on Jihoon, just as he’d done to you many times before. You also wondered what sort of effect you may have had on him, what sort of thoughts he may have had about you that he had to keep to himself all this time.
Tentatively, you cocked your head up, only to find he was already looking down at you. The glint in his eyes made your body burn. Just as he started to lean in to reunite your lips, your phone buzzed with many texts in a row. Jihoon closed his eyes in frustration and sighed. “I want to throw both of our phones away,” he said, making you laugh.
minjeong hey pooks idk if ur out somewhere or still sleeping but im going to yoshis placeee he needs some stuff there so we’re going together and i’ll prob spend the night over… we’re like inseparable rn or wtv. anyways dont set the place on fire while i’m gone x
you ok thx for letting me know xx im w my boyfriend rn
Minjeong’s response didn’t even take three seconds to come through.
minjeong HUHHHH??? GIRL ???
you hehe
minjeong park jihoon is one lucky man
you how do u know its him?
minjeong literally who else would it be wait does that mean we’ll go on double dates…
you yeah ur right and pls no
minjeong DOUBLE DATES !! girls night tomorrow night i want all the deeeets have fun having the place all to urselves and rmb to use protection xx
you why is that where ur mind goes first ?? down for girls night tho can we watch teen beach movie
minjeong duhhh
“Teen Beach Movie?” Jihoon said, startling you. You hadn’t realized he’d been reading over your shoulders.
“It’s a good movie,” you mumbled, frowning.
“Right.” He said nothing for a few seconds, but he just couldn’t contain himself. The question was burning his tongue. “Aren’t you on the pill?”
Your head snapped towards him at the sudden question. “Uh, yeah, I am. Why?”
His eyes scanned your face as a smirk grew on his lips. “Then we don’t need to use protection, do we?”
You gulped. Your whole face felt hot - after having just shared your first kiss, you hadn’t expected him to mention sex so easily. Not that you weren’t interested in that, far from it, you were just… nervous.
You turned away from him, unable to sustain his gaze any longer. “I guess not,” you murmured. You had started taking the pill at the beginning of university, mainly to regulate your period and lessen your hormonal acne. The contraceptive part was just a bonus, one you had never imagined would come into handy like this. 
Jihoon’s eyes suddenly widened. “Oh, I need to tell Yoshi about this! He’s gonna freak. I hope he won’t be mad he learned it from Minjeong and not me first.”
“Yoshi?” you asked as you watched him reach for his phone on his nightstand.
“Yeah, we’ve been updating each other on our love lives. He’s really into Minjeong, by the way.”
“That’s… strangely wholesome, actually.” 
While he typed away, you tilted your head and took the time to appreciate your boyfriend’s features. The round eyes, heart-shaped lips, sharp nose and even sharper jawline. He was so pretty, and now, he was all yours.
Without thinking, you traced a finger along his jaw, liking the feel of it against your skin. When his eyes found yours, you dropped your hand and straightened your head, expression like you’d just been caught red-handed.
“Should we go back to your place? We can pick up food on the way.”
You smiled. “We just ate.”
“And I’m hungry again,” he said, mirroring your smile and pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. Or at least, he had intended it as a chaste kiss, but he found that he couldn’t quite get himself to pull away. “Let’s go,” he said, lips moving against yours as he spoke, but made no move to actually go.
“Let’s go,” you repeated, staying perfectly still. You’re not sure who was the one to cross the millimeters between your lips, but before you knew it, you and Jihoon’s lips were stuck to each other once more. This kiss had none of the gradual intensity of the previous one - right off the bat, the feeling of Jihoon’s lips against yours flooded all of your senses.
Your hands found purchase in his hair while his found their way to your waist once more. With surprising ease, he pulled you to him so that you were straddling his lap. For a second there, you were conscious about how heavy you might be on top of him, but it was all forgotten when he pressed his lips to yours again in a passionate kiss. In this new position, you could press your body close to his, so close you could almost feel his heart beat against yours. He also had easier access to your back than before, and he quickly took advantage of that. 
Just like before, he sneaked his hands underneath your t-shirt, making you arch your back against him. He slid a finger underneath your bra strap and pulled away for a second to ask if this was okay. You looked at him - his eyes were darker than you’d ever seen before and his face had lust written all over it. You were sure you looked similar.
“Yeah, it’s okay,” you whispered before diving back into the kiss. One second apart felt like hours to you.
Your breath got shakier as he unclasped your bra. He didn’t do anything right away, settling on brushing his palm up and down your back while your heart raced with anticipation. You were so on edge that you couldn’t even kiss him anymore - you buried your face in his neck, gripping his hair so tightly you were probably hurting him. You didn’t care if he could feel how desperate you were. Then, finally, painfully slowly, one of his hands made its way to your front, and he gently grabbed your breast underneath your bra that was hanging from your shoulders. That was already a foreign sensation in itself, but when he took your nipple between two fingers and pulled on it ever-so-gently, the pleasure that overtook your body was so intense that it made you let out a loud gasp and you pulled away from Jihoon, startled as if you had been shocked by lightning. 
“Are you okay?” he asked, breathing heavily, a mix of worry and desire in his eyes. 
You nodded, holding onto his shoulders as you tried to make your breathing return to normal. “I’m fine, just… it’s all very new, is all. I’ve never done any of this before.”
Never had a boyfriend, never held hands romantically, never kissed - that was you. Not that you minded, though, since you’d never been interested in anyone and you were happy to do this with Jihoon, whom you trusted more than anyone else.
He smiled softly. “That’s okay. Does it at least feel good?” he asked, low voice making the hairs on your arms stand.
You whined, hiding your face in the dip of his shoulder again. “It does…” you admitted, voice muffled against his skin.
“You know, it’s my first time too,” he said after a while. 
You lifted your head to look at him. “Really?”
“Mh-hm. You’re my first girlfriend.” His eyes were full of affection as he gazed at you, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. You giggled. “What’s funny?” he asked softly, pressing a kiss to your jaw.
“We’re each other’s firsts,” you explained. “I think that’s nice.”
Jihoon made his way to your lips, giving them a small peck. “That is nice. And I promise I’ll make you feel so good,” another peck, “you’ll want me to be your last as well.”
You looked at him for a bit, taking in his features that looked even more beautiful to you now that you’d realized your feelings for him, and thought of a life with him. It might have been slightly premature, but you already knew you liked the idea of that.
“Okay,” you said, as if what he had said had been an offer. It made him smile.
“Okay.” He kissed you, softly like you could break underneath his touch. “You’re so cute, you know that?” he asked against your lips, but didn’t leave you time to answer before kissing you again. “Okay, I think we should take a break,” he said after a few minutes. “We can go to your place. And then we’ll have more… privacy.”
You agreed that spending some time not pressed up against Jihoon might help you think straight again. The walk to your apartment was nice and quiet, your interlocked hands swinging back and forth between your two bodies. When you walked past the grocery store, you stopped in your tracks, looking at Jihoon with a smile which he mirrored immediately, even without knowing the reason behind it.
“Should we bake a cake to celebrate our first day together?”
“That’s very cheesy.” His grin widened as he took a step closer to you. “I love it.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead and led you into the store.
The rest of that afternoon was spent baking and decorating the cake. It was a simple vanilla batter, but it took way longer than it should have, because Jihoon first insisted on having a flour fight (which took ages to clean), then on having two cakes and having a competition for whose would be prettier (yours, of course), but you loved every last second of it. It was like a scene out of a movie, and you could not have been more content. To really bring home the cheesiness of it all, you even recorded yourselves blowing out the number one candles of your respective cakes.
The evening came around, and, full of cake and Chinese takeout, you were holed up in bed together, watching the first movie that had popped up on your Netflix recommended. It was too easy, falling asleep in his arms. The combination of his comforting scent and the soft back rubs he was giving you lulled you to sleep like nothing else. 
When you woke up next, it was because of a sudden lack of warmth next to you. You lifted your head to find Jihoon opening your bedroom door and heading into the living room. He had just been going to get water, but you didn’t know that.
“Hoon?” you called out, raising yourself to a sitting position on your bed. He immediately turned around, walking back towards you and crouching next to your bed.
“Hm?”
“Aren’t you staying?” you asked, reaching for the hem of his t-shirt sleeve. He looked at your hand before his gaze slowly made its way back up towards your face, a smirk growing on his pretty lips. 
“Do you want me to?” he asked back, gazing deep into your eyes. His voice had dropped to a low volume that made it hard to breathe. Initially, you’d just wanted him back by your side, but now all sorts of thoughts were running through your mind.
“Of course. I mean, we’re dating, right?” 
In an attempt to lighten the atmosphere, you tried to chuckle, but all laughter died in your throat when your eyes locked with Jihoon’s. You weren’t scared of his intensity - you were scared of the pace at which your desire for him was growing. One inch closer, and you knew you’d be wrapped around his finger.
He leaned closer.
“What are you trying to say?” he asked, tilting his head innocently to the side. Mindlessly, you rubbed your thighs together, searching for some relief for your core that had started to throb of its own accord, but Jihoon was following your every movement and had noticed it. “Are you saying you want to consummate our relationship?” he asked again, a hint of amusement in his voice as he placed his hands on your knee that wasn’t covered by the blanket.
You scoffed and looked away, hoping you didn’t look as flustered as you felt. “Not if you say it like that,” you mumbled.
Jihoon’s eyebrows perked up. “How should I say it, then?” he whispered. His hand slowly brushed along your sides until it reached your waist. Even over your layer of clothing, his touch burned. “You want me to make love to you?”
You kept your gaze fixed on something behind his shoulder, focusing on your breathing that was getting shakier and shakier. He drew the blanket away, leaving your thighs exposed to the chilly air for a second before he splayed his large palms on them, bringing you some warmth but intensifying the throbbing in your core. His hands inched closer and closer to where you most needed them, rubbing over your inner thighs but swerving right before he actually reached your core, setting them on your hip bones instead.
“Or do you want me to fuck you, Y/N?”
He took your chin between two fingers, forcing you to meet his gaze. Your eyes locked for a second before they dropped to his lips, watching the smirk that grew on them. “Guess it’s the latter.” 
As soon as your lips touched, you were overwhelmed by the immensity of your desire for him. Your whole body burned in want, in need. You had no idea what to do except hold on tightly to him and hope for the best, hope that he’d know how to guide you through this even if it was new for him as well. 
If you thought the kisses you’d shared earlier in the day had been intense, this one was on a whole other level. Your hands grabbed everywhere they could find and his gripped your waist firmly as your tongues danced with each other, resulting in a messy kiss that had your head spinning from lack of air in seconds. And yet, you couldn’t get enough. You kept pulling Jihoon impossibly closer by the hem of his t-shirt until he got frustrated from the layer of clothing between you two and simply took it off, discarding somewhere in your room. He gave you no time to admire his defined chest or abs, because he trapped your lips right away. 
He pushed you slowly onto the bed until he was hovering over you, alternating between kissing your lips and your neck, that you were sure would have a couple of purple marks for you to find the next day. Your skin burned wherever he touched it, and it was like a trail of fire had appeared as his hand made its way to your breasts once more, grabbing harshly at the soft flesh there. 
The whole time, he had been in some sort of a trance, drunk on your body, on your scent, on the way you were touching him - on the feeling that you finally wanted him as much as he’d wanted you all this time. But when he helped you out of the articles of clothing covering your upper body, and he had you half-naked underneath him, he had to take a double take and remember to take his time instead of just devouring you whole. For both his sake and yours.  
So he stopped for a bit, letting himself admire you. He noticed you shifting uncomfortably, so he leaned down again, pressing soft kisses along your cheeks and your jaw. “You really are the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” he whispered before kissing you. He then continued his journey down your neck and collarbones until he reached your breast. “Really so beautiful.”
When he took one of your nipples in his mouth, your back arched against him and you let out a loud moan. He couldn’t keep himself from chuckling slightly - he found it adorable how sensitive you were everywhere he touched you. Your moans were like music to his ears.
Nothing had ever felt like this before. As he circled his tongue around your nipple - God knows where he had learned how to do this - it took everything you had to not just scream in pleasure. Even if Minjeong was out, you still had neighbors. Now that you couldn’t grab his t-shirt, you’d switched to his hair, and you were tugging at it so hard you wouldn’t have been surprised if you ripped a clump of it from his head.
Your panties were sticking to your core, all slick with your arousal, and you didn’t know how long you could go on anymore without attention down there.
As if he’d heard your thoughts, Jihoon started making his way down your body once more, trailing kisses all across your ribcage and stomach.
“I’m torn between taking this real slow and making it last as long as possible.” His lips found a sensitive spot on your lower stomach, right next to your hip bone, and he gently bit the skin there, licking it afterwards to offer you some relief. “Or just devouring you now that I finally have you.”
“Jihoon,” you sighed, desperation evident in your voice. “Please, just do something.”
“Like what?” he asked, clearly enjoying your lust-filled state of mind.
“Anything.”
He chuckled, and by the sound of it, you knew he didn’t have anything good in mind. He lowered himself some more until his mouth was positioned right in front of your pussy, and, with no warning, licked a long strip from your hole to your clit over your panties, humming at the taste of your arousal.
“Something like this?” he asked afterwards, but was only met with a whine. He kissed the soft flesh of your inner thighs while you squirmed in his hold.
“Don’t tease me, please…” you begged, and your voice was so weak and genuine that he could only give in. 
“Whatever you want, baby,” he obliged, the nickname rolling off of his tongue casually. He had no idea what it did to you. 
He helped you out of your underwear, finally getting you fully naked just for him. Jihoon was a man of his words, so not a second was lost before he dived right back into you, licking up the arousal spilling out of you before flicking his tongue at your clit. He held your hips tightly in both of his hands so you couldn’t squirm away from him and ate you out like a man starved. You were so sweet and warm against his tongue, and your taste was worlds more intoxicating than any alcohol he’d ever had. He’d do this forever if you let him.
He noticed quickly that attention to your clit was what got you moaning the loudest, so he alternated between circling his tongue around it and gently sucking at it, sometimes releasing it with a pop just for the hell of it. He slipped a finger easily inside of you, your wetness accommodating him immediately. He couldn’t wait to be inside you - his hard cock was throbbing in the confines of his underwear, but his only concern right now was to make you come undone for him. 
When he found that deep spot inside of you, the one that had you gasping in pleasure and moaning his name, he slid a second finger in, and just like that, you were done for. You came apart on his fingers and tongue, a complete moaning mess underneath him, and he lapped up the arousal leaking out of you like it was water. 
You’d already thought you were at the peak of pleasure when your orgasm came ripping through you like an avalanche, blindsiding you and making you see bright white stars behind your tightly closed eyelids. Your throat felt dry from all the moaning and heaving you’d been doing. You had to take Jihoon’s face between your hands and gently pull him up yourself, otherwise it seemed like he was happy to keep going, but it was starting to overwhelm you.
Jihoon held you in his arms as you came down from your high. You let out the laughter bubbling in your throat as your breathing returned to normal - not because something was funny, but because you had just felt so ridiculously amazing that you couldn’t help but laugh. 
“How was it?” Jihoon asked, a lot shyer than you’d expected.
You lifted your head to look at him, a bright smile on your face even though you felt close to exhausted. “I have a hard time believing that was your first time giving head, Hoon.”
He chuckled. “Very first time, I promise you. I must just have some God-given skills.”
“I’m not even gonna fight you on that, because that was amazing,” you conceded, nuzzling yourself closer to him.
“I’m glad I could do that for you,” he said softly, burying his nose at the top of your head and inhaling there. The scent of your hair was oddly comforting for him.
Before you let yourself drift off to sleep, you started raking your fingernails across his chest and abs, smiling proudly to yourself when you heard him breathe shakily or felt his muscles clench under your touch. He wasn’t saying anything, but you could tell he was holding himself back. “I think,” you started, pressing a kiss to the corner of his jaw, “That you deserve something in return.”
“You don’t-”
You knew Jihoon. He didn’t like it when you insisted on paying for coffee because he’d done it the last time, or when you baked him something because he’d stayed up all night with you studying for a test. He liked taking care of you, but you always had to almost force him to let you take care of him. You wanted your relationship to be fifty-fifty - you wanted to give him as much as he gave you. Even if he would let you, it wasn’t fair to just take and take.
So you insisted. Whatever he was about to say, it died on his tongue as soon as you placed your palm on his erection. It felt hot and hard under your hand, and saying you weren’t slightly intimidated would be a lie, but you wanted to do this. If you were able to give Jihoon half the pleasure he’d given you moments prior, you’d be satisfied. 
You rubbed your hand slowly up and down over his clothes. “Really, baby,” he managed to say between shaky breaths, “I didn’t do that to get something in return- Fuck,” he whispered as you hooked your fingers underneath the waistband of his sweatpants, pulling it down his legs so he was only left in his underwear. Under the black fabric, his bulge looked huge, and you gulped at the idea of having it inside you.
“This feels good, right, Hoon?” you asked, steadily getting bolder and pressing slightly harder against his bulge as you continued rubbing it.
“It- it does, but-”
You shut him up by pressing your lips to his. He reciprocated it immediately, almost unconsciously, before moaning into the kiss. “So let me do this for you,” you whispered before ridding him of his underwear.
“Okay,” he said, sighing as you rubbed your hands from his knees along his thighs.
The groan he let out as you took him in your hand sent shivers straight down your spine. You could finally put to use all the knowledge Minjeong had passed on to you over the past few months. You let go of Jihoon’s cock to spit in your hand, the moisture helping you glide your loosely closed fist along his shaft with more ease. Your movements themselves were probably very clumsy, but Jihoon didn’t seem to mind - he moaned shamelessly, head fallen back against the pillows and exposed Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.
Seeing him like this and knowing it was all because of you drove you crazy, and soon, you became greedy for any sign of pleasure from him. You wanted to hear all of his moans, sighs, groans, watch his abs clench tightly and feel him grab your hair, which he did as soon as you flicked your tongue across his tip, already leaking with pre-cum. The endless string of curses and moans that flew from his mouth as you circled your tongue and shallowly bobbed your mouth around him filled you with satisfaction.
“Fuck, just like that, Y/N. You’re doing so fucking well, baby. Making me feel so good.” Those words had been the cherry on top.
Jihoon was of a more-than-decent size, and fitting all of him inside of your mouth was probably a task that would take a few tries to achieve - you still did your best to take as much of him as you could. You massaged his balls with one of your hands, using the other to hold the base of his shaft while you bobbed your head up and down. You did this with increasing speed then let him take control over your pace as his fingers threaded themselves in your hair, guiding your head around him. You didn’t even know if he was doing it on purpose or out of reflex, but you definitely did not mind handing him the reins.
“You’re gonna make me- Fuck, Y/N, I’m gonna cum, sweetheart.” You hummed around his shaft, and that seemed to do him in - with a loud groan, he released his load, hot and sticky inside your mouth. Taken aback by the bitter taste, you lifted your head and only swallowed what you had caught. You took him in your hand again, jerking him off to help him ride out the rest of his high.
You watched him, transfixed by his heaving chest, eyes screwed shut, the beads of sweat pearling across his torso, and the red blush that had spread from his face down to his neck. You’d done this. You’d gotten Jihoon in such a state. You let him rest for a bit as you wiped your hands and his body with a tissue and had a sip of water.
You then pressed a kiss to his cheek, taking the time to admire his smiling face. When he opened his eyes and found yours, you suddenly felt so shy that you returned to your usual cuddling position, head resting against his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you close to him. You were both smelly and sticky, but you couldn’t care less.
“You did so good, baby. You did such a good job,” he whispered, the praise going right to your heart.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. That was amazing.” He sighed contentedly, then lowered his head to look at you. “You feeling sleepy?”
You shook your head no, a shy smile on your lips.
Jihoon smirked slightly. “You wanna keep going?”
You nodded.
He shifted himself so that his back rested against the headboard. “Come here,” he whispers, pulling you to his lap. You both winced in sensitivity at the feeling of your core right against his softening dick, but you didn’t want to pull apart either. If anything, the small stimulation created a pit in your lower stomach for the second time of the night.
You wrapped your arms lazily around his neck while he rested one of his hands on your hips and used the other one to rub your back. “How are you feeling?” he asked, eyes soft and full of affection.
You pressed a long, gentle kiss to his lips. “Good. Really good,” you said, making him chuckle.
“Good. Me too.”
You made out lazily, lips moving languidly against each other, neither of you in a rush to get anywhere. But after some time, you started to feel Jihoon hardening under you, and when you rocked your hips against him, coating his growing erection with arousal, he groaned. His hands traveled down to your ass, grabbing hard at the skin there as he helped you rock back and forth against him. You started out slowly at first, moaning every time your clit brushed against his tip, but it wasn’t long before you sped things up and lost yourself in pleasure once again. Your arms tightened their hold around his neck and, burying your face in his neck, you pressed your chest flush to his and muffled your moans against his skin, in both pleasure and frustration at having him right against you but not inside.
You suddenly lifted your head, and the look on your face made Jihoon instantly stop. “Is everything okay, baby?”
You nodded, but your worry was still evident in the crease of your brows. “Yeah, I just…” You pouted. “I’m scared it’ll hurt, Hoon.”
Jihoon caressed the side of your cheek with his palm, brushing some hair away from your face. “We don’t have to do this today-”
“No!” you exclaimed, taking the both of you aback. “I want to.”
“Okay.”
“I’m just a little bit nervous.”
“Okay. That’s okay, baby.” One of his hands rubbed reassuring circles into your lower back. “We can go as slow as you want, okay? And we can stop whenever you want. Just let me know. Does that sound good?”
You nodded, taking a deep breath. “Yeah, it does.”
Jihoon smiled and pressed his lips to yours. “Are you ready?”
“Yeah,” you whispered.
He helped you lay on your back against the mattress and hovered over you, propping himself up on one forearm. As he kissed you, he caressed one of your thighs, hand inching closer and closer to your core and making your blood rush with anticipation. Then he finally pressed two fingers to your folds, gathering up some of your arousal 
before sliding his digits inside of you. As you gasped out in pleasure, his lips trailed away from your lips and found a new home in your neck.
He scissored his fingers inside of you, stretching you out and getting you ready for him as he murmured words of “you’re doing so well” and “I’ll make you feel good,” as if he wasn’t already. When you seemed relaxed enough, he slid his fingers out of you, smiling at you mischievously while he sucked your arousal off of them. Then, taking his dick by the base, he rubbed his tip along your folds, making your body twitch and loud moans escape your mouth. He pressed a final kiss to your cheek and buried his face in your neck, trying to ground himself too as he slowly started pushing himself inside of you.
His dick was so much bigger than his fingers, and you gripped his hair tightly as you got used to the new sensation. Tears prickled in your eyes, the unexpected stretch making you frown in discomfort. It was a completely different pain to what you were used to, but the overwhelming pleasure mixed with it made it almost welcome. 
Jihoon was using all of his self-control to not pound you into tomorrow - your tight pussy was sucking him right in, and it was like his whole body sighed of relief when he bottomed out. He couldn’t believe he was inside you, feeling your walls clench around him and hearing your soft grunts as you got used to him. It was a scene right out of his wet dreams. 
“You okay?” he asked, voice muffled against your skin. His voice sounded strained and heavy. 
“I’m okay, Hoonie. I just need a minute.”
For that minute, as you breathed shallowly and relaxed around him, Jihoon pressed wet kisses wherever his lips could reach and twirled one of your nipples between two fingers to take your mind off of your pain. 
“Take your time. I know I’m big, baby,” he said. You could hear the smirk in his voice.
“No, you’re just right, Hoon. It feels nice now.” 
Objectively, Jihoon knew that this was a good thing, and that you had meant in a good way - better for him to fit right inside rather than cause you pain, but a part of his ego had still been hurt by your refutal of his claim. But then you told him he could move, and he forgot all about it.
It took him another superhuman kind of effort to go slow, slowly rolling his hips against yours with a self-control he didn’t know he had. He scanned your face for any signs of discomfort, kissing your small frown in the hope it might go away. He watched as your jaw relaxed and the soft hums escaping your throat turned into moans, as the crease in your eyebrows softened and turned into one of pleasure rather than pain. He allowed his movements to speed up, noting with satisfaction the increasing volume of the noises you were making and the way your fingernails dug into the skin of his shoulders.
He lifted himself on his palms and hooked one of your legs around his hips, the new, deeper angle having you seeing stars. He asked if you were okay again, and when you not only nodded yes, but asked him to go faster, Jihoon had to admit he got a little bit carried away, both in his actions and his words. 
Jihoon had a big mouth - you knew it, everyone knew it. What you didn’t know was that he would keep that big mouth even balls-deep inside you.
Maintaining a fast pace, he lowered himself so that his lips tickled your ear as he spoke. “You’re doing so well, baby. Taking my cock like the good girl you are. Isn’t that right? You’re my good girl,” he grunted, punctuating his words with harsh rolls of his hips into yours. You couldn’t even get yourself to answer, that’s how far gone you were, his words going into your one ear and coming out the other. All you could think about was how good it all felt, from his tip repeatedly hitting that delicious spot inside of you to the feeling of his warm, sticky skin against yours. The room smelled of sweat and arousal and was filled with all sorts of noises - your heavy breathing, your moans, your grunts, the wet sound of Jihoon’s dick inside of you.
“Can’t even say anything, can you? Am I making you feel that good, baby?”
You moaned, thinking that should be enough of a yes for him, but you should’ve known better. 
“I think you should answer me when I ask you a question, Y/N,” he commanded, slowing his pace down to get you to listen to him.
“Y-yes, it feels so good, Hoon,” you replied, out-of-breath.
“Attagirl,” he whispered, smiling as he bit the lobe of your ear. 
You hadn’t even realized you were crying until Jihoon halted in his motions, feeling one of your hot, wet tears on his palm. He was quick to wipe it away, searching for any pain in your features, but you only whined, asking him why he’d stopped. 
“Why are you crying, baby? Did I hurt you? Are you okay?” he asked frantically. The worry in his voice only amplified your already overflowing love for him.
“No, you didn’t do anything wrong, I just… God, this is so embarrassing,” you all but sobbed against his skin, realizing that the pleasure had been so overwhelming, tears had started flowing from your eyes. 
“No, it’s not.”
You screwed your eyes shut for a second before meeting his gaze again. “I just- it feels so good, Hoon.”
A pause passed as he took a deep breath. “Is that it?”
“It is, I promise. Please, just… let’s keep going, Hoonie. I was so close,” you whined, and Jihoon couldn’t help but chuckle at your desperation. How was it that he still found you so adorable even in such a situation?
“Okay, baby. I’m relieved.” He wiped more of your tears that had fallen, but as soon as he moved inside of you again, taking a minute to return to his previous harsh pace, your tears resumed streaking down your cheeks. Jihoon kissed them, savoring their salty taste on his tongue.
It didn’t take long for the knot in your stomach to become tight again, and with every deep thrust, you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. 
“You look so pretty like this, sweetheart. All fucked out for me.”
“Mm. I’m so close, Hoon, gonna- fuck, gonna-”
“You’re gonna cum for me, baby? Gonna cum and make a mess all over my cock?”
“Yes, Hoon, fuck-”
You gasped out loud as his hand found your clit again, using his thumb to rub quick circles into the sensitive bundle of nerves. “Cum for me, sweetheart, show me how good it feels.”
That did it for you. Your second orgasm of the night washed over you, making you release your loudest moan yet. You held on to Jihoon like you might fall apart if you didn’t. 
The quick clenching and unclenching of your walls around Jihoon’s dick as he fucked you throughout your high drove him crazy and, soon enough, he came undone himself, hot, white ropes of his cum filling you up. The squelch as he fucked his cum into you, the both of you moaning in overstimulation, was nothing short of pornographic. 
Jihoon all but collapsed on top of you, humming as you traced your fingernails up and down his back. You took a few minutes to collect yourselves, and you thought he might have fallen asleep, soft dick still inside you, when he lifted himself up with a sigh and slid out of you. You winced at the loss of his warmth. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and said he’d be back in a sec. 
When he entered your room again, he was carrying a towel, a tall glass of water, and leftovers from your takeout earlier. He cleaned you off and asked you how you felt, then you chatted as you ate your food. You could pass out at any moment, but it was nice, talking a little bit after the moment you shared instead of falling asleep straight away. 
He almost choked on his water when you asked him where he’d learned to talk so dirty - now that he was out of the moment, his cheeks reddened at the thought of everything he’d told you. “It just comes naturally,” he’d said shyly.
“Do you want anything?” he asked when you were done eating. 
You kissed him, smiling against his lips. “I’m all good, Hoon. You?”
He mirrored your smile. “All good, too.”
“I just wanna cuddle and sleep now. I’m spent.”
“Sounds perfect to me,” he whispered. He laid down on his back and you followed, letting him wrap an arm around your shoulder while you rested your head on his chest. He drew you close to him and pulled the blankets over your intertwined bodies. “Is it creepy if I just stare at you for a little bit?”
“Kinda, yeah.”
“But you’re so pretty,” Jihoon pouted.
“I’ll just sleep and pretend I don’t know anything about it.”
“Okay, just don’t panic if you feel a strange but very attractive presence looming over you.”
You snorted. “Noted. Night, Hoon.” You pressed a kiss to his neck and he hummed.
“Night, pretty. Sleep tight.”
--
When you woke up a few hours later, your room was bathing in the bright yellow glow of the early morning. You and Jihoon had shifted positions in the night and you’d ended up curled up on your side, back to him while he slept on his back, arms sprayed out next to him. It was the feeling of him shifting closer to you and wrapping an arm around your waist that had awoken you, a sudden warmth engulfing your body that made you feel like you might still be dreaming.
But no, it was all very real. From the man behind you, to the events of the previous night, to the dull but not unpleasant ache you felt between your legs. You sighed contentedly, taking his hand in yours and wrapping it tighter around yourself. 
Curious to see if he was awake, you turned around after a few minutes and faced him. He seemed pretty passed out until you pressed a soft kiss to his nose, then another to his cheek. His eyebrows creased for a second and his foot moved against yours. He didn’t open his eyes, but he pursed his lips for a kiss. He wasn’t content with just a peck, however, and you found yourself making out with him first thing in the morning, lips full of sleep and cotton-soft like your pillows. 
“You have no idea how much I’ve dreamed of this,” he says after a while, keeping his eyes closed, morning voice sending chills down your spine. “Waking up next to you.”
“You have?”
“I have. I don’t know if I should freak out over this and have a party or just be chill about it,” he said, smiling.
“We can have a party.”
“Really?” Jihoon asked, opening his eyes wide, excited like a kid who was just told they were going to Disneyland.
“Sure,” you giggled. “We can invite all of our friends and celebrate our one-week anniversary or something. Minjeong will probably want to plan it.”
He sighed happily. “I’m holding you to that. We’re celebrating.”
After lazing around in bed for a couple hours, going back and forth between chatting while cuddling and making out, your growling stomachs forced you out of your room and into the kitchen.
You and Jihoon noticed it at the same time. It was hard to miss, after all - a bright pink sheet of A4 paper with hearts and little Cupids everywhere right in the middle of the surface of your fridge, but more importantly, your name and Jihoon’s in big bubble letters with 99% in the middle. You wanted to rip it from the surface of your fridge, but the damage had been done - index pointed at the paper, Jihoon turned to you with an incredulous look on his face. You scratched the back of your neck and looked around the kitchen for a way to escape.
“Y/N, what’s this?” Jihoon asked, amusement laced in his voice.
You tried to find some sort of excuse, but to no avail. “This is just, um- you know, just a, uh, just-” The sound of Jihoon’s cackles interrupted you. You looked at him, unimpressed. “Don’t laugh at me. I was stressing out, okay? I needed something to reassure me.”
Jihoon was grinning wide as he pulled you into a hug, one arm around your waist and one hand on the back of your head. “You’re so adorable,” he mused, pressing a kiss to your hair. You wrapped your arms around his middle and nuzzled your nose against his neck, the comforting scent of his skin making you forget about your embarrassment. 
He leaned away slightly and took the paper off of the fridge, smiling down at it. “As cute as this is, you don’t need it. I’ll show you everyday that I’m the perfect man for you, okay?”
You mirrored his smile. “Okay.” Even when your lips found each other, you couldn’t stop smiling, giggles escaping from your lips into his. You only laughed harder when he started pressing small kisses all over your face, making sure to not miss a single spot. He pressed a final one to your forehead before resting his against it, both of you closing your eyes and relishing in each other’s presence. 
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
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women-are-hot · 10 months
Text
INSTAGRAM LIVE • A. PUTELLAS
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request: “I can ask that the reader and Alex do a live together and Alexia looks at the reader with loving eyes and answers questions together all with cuteness.”
pairings: alexia putellas x fem!reader.
genre: pure fluff.
word count: 1.3k
warnings: just alexia and you being so in love that it makes fans sick lol.
note: this was in my drafts, so decided to edit it and post it for y’all. hope you like the small surprise fic <3
you were just casually laying with your head on alexia’s lap while she ran her fingers through your hair. it was your favorite thing to do when you had time. laying with your girlfriend and her running her fingers through your hair.
just when you had fallen asleep, alexia decided to wake you up by caressing your cheek. “mi amor” she whispered, but enough for you to hear. you hummed a ‘yes’ into her stomach, wanting her to continue running her fingers through your hair.
“should we go live on my instagram?” alexia asked you, making you rub your eyes and sit up on the couch beside alexia with your head still on her shoulder. “do you even know what you’re talking about la reina?” you teased her which earned you a light flick by her finger on your forehead.
you fake gasped, but the gasp was quickly wiped away when alexia kissed your forehead, then your nose and lastly, a passionate kiss on your lips. “you’re forgiven” you said with a smile.
“yeah, i know” alexia responded with a cheeky smile, making you roll your eyes at her.
“anyway, should we go live on instagram?” alexia asked, repeating her question. “si. it would be fun, but i won’t help you with anything. you have to figure it out yourself” you answered, trying not to laugh as you knew alexia wasn’t the best at instagram yet even if she tried a lot, especially after getting so many followers. 
“mi amor-” alexia started complaining, but you responded with a simple ‘no’. after more complaints from your girlfriend, you two agreed that if she made everything a very big disaster, you would eventually help her.  
alexia also decided that she should do a quick story before going live, so her fans would be ready to watch the two of you and send questions. “i want you to be in it too” alexia said and literally took her arm around your waist, dragging you into her without any warning, but you couldn’t complain as she started the video. 
“hola everyone. y/n and i are going live here on instagram in a few minutes, so we hope y’all will come and ask us questions and hang out. adios, see you soon!” alexia announced while you just stared at her with a big smile. what did you do to deserve her?
“you’re so cute!” you mumbled into her shoulder, still with a big smile on your face. “qué? why?” alexia asked, worried that she said something wrong as english isn’t her first language. 
“calm down babe. you didn’t say anything wrong. you just sounded so cute while talking english in your hot spanish accent” you answered as you tried to cheer up your worried girlfriend. she always get so worried about saying something wrong in english. 
“my hot spanish accent?” alexia mumbled confused at you. you just gave her your usually cute little smile with a simple nod. “you really think my accent is hot?” alexia asked as if she was surprised.
“ale, everything about you is hot” you answered in a low voice, failing to keep a shy smile off your face. alexia’s confused look was now replaced with a smirk, looking you right in the eyes, almost making you weak.
“is that so?” alexia asked while you just nodded as you looked down at your feet, feeling alexia’s eyes burn through you. alexia then took her finger under your chin, making you look back up at her. 
she then smashed her lips into your in a slow and passionate kiss. just as you had started kissing her back, she stopped kissing you and walked away. “what the- ale, where are you going?” you yelled at her. 
“i’m just going to make us some iced coffees before we go live. that is okay right miss y/l?” alexia asked in a teasing tone while you just huffed at her with an annoyed face, sitting down on the couch with your phone, posting alexia’s story on your profile. 
after eight minutes, alexia was back with two iced coffees and ready to go live. she opened her phone and started the live with 35,000 people already watching. alexia just somehow didn’t know that. 
“do i have something in my teeth?” alexia asked, putting her face close to the camera, finally making you crack a big laugh. “why’re you laughing?” she asked and after wiping your tears from your laughs, you answered her. “do you know that 35.000 people just heard and saw that?” 
“huh? are we already live?” alexia asked. you just slightly nodded, before going into another laughing attack full of tears. “why didn’t you tell me, idiota?” she mumbled with a frown.
“i told you that you had to figure all of this out yourself” you said with a big smile. “you’re annoying” she said. “but you love me” you responded with an even bigger smile that even alexia couldn’t resist as she started to smile herself a bit.
“i really don’t know anymore to be honest” alexia mumbled, but you could still hear it, making you hit her shoulder. “woahhh. that hurt so much” alexia said in sarcasm while you just rolled your eyes at her.
“save that for later mi amor” alexia whispered into your ear, making you blush a bit, but enough for the fans to see it.
@ alexia4ever - what did alexia just say to make y/n blush like that?
@ putellasluv11 - you guys are really making me feel so single
@ aleandynschild - cutest couple ever! literally my parents!
“alright, we thought we could answer some questions, so ask a few things and we’ll try to answer as best as we can” alexia explained with a tomato colored head beside her. then questions started flowing in.
“what’s the best thing about living and playing in barca?” alexia readed out loud. “you should answer that, amor” alexia said, putting her arm around your shoulder, pulling you even closer.
“well, there’s quite a few things, but first of all, the sunny weather is amazing, especially when you come from Sweden or the nordic countries in general” you started while alexia chuckled a bit at you and looked at you with what the fans called ‘heart eyes’.
“of course there’s more than amazing weather! barcelona has always been my dream club to play for as my parents always cheered for them, making me a fan automatically. so when i got the offer to play for barca, i was so excited and of course couldn’t say no to such a big offer. the club just means so much to me and i’m so grateful for all of my teammates that i get to call my friends. and of course, there’s la reina de barca, alexia putellas. my best friend and other half” you rambled, leaning into alexia during the last sentence. 
“so yeah, basically everything about living and playing in barca is the best thing” you added, looking up at your girlfriend as she always looked down at you with a big smile. “am i talking too much?” you asked her. 
“no. tu respuesta fue perfecta, mi amor” alexia answered, taking some of your hair behind your hair, giving your head a kiss, making fans feel very single again. after that little sweet moment, the two of you went back to answering questions for about an hour and a half while making fans awe over your relationship.
@ ynputellas0 - the way y/n was talking about barca and alexia was so cute, i can’t
@ alexiabiggestfan - alexia is being a romantic girlfriend ulalalala
@ lareinaaayn - i’m literally so in love with both of them
@ alelovesyn - alexia’s heart eyes for y/n are just so cute. i want what they have!
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