#fucking wild. I think about this like 6 times a day.

[rutadales]

they fucking killed him before he got to see if sonic 3 (coming to theaters December 20, 2024) was a faithful adaptation of Sonic Adventure 2 (available on steam right now for 9.99) ....

#c!dream #dreblr #root doodles #In the panel with punz he's explaining how charmy was originally written to be like. very stotic and mature #bc in his original characters description that's how he was described so that's how they wrote him in the Archie comics #but then when he showed up in the mainline games and got more personality he was very childlike and goofy #And Sega wanted charmy in the comics to match charmy in the games especially as they drifted further and further apart personality wise #so. the writing team. Gave Cha.rmy the bee. Brain damage. #fucking wild. I think about this like 6 times a day.

[seventh-district]

*puts a photo of me in between two random photos i took of the sky today, not because they go together whatsoever but simply so any poor soul that happens to scroll across this post won’t be jumpscared by one giant image of me taking up their entire dash* :)

also yes those are the Everything Stays shoes that i wear far too often and i thought about Moon and flustered my damn self when i was putting them on today and if you want to know why i thought of him specifically… well, you’re just gonna have to read Ch. 4 of ES when i post it on Thursday and you’ll find out 😊

#Seven.txt #my face #i love how i use the my face tag as my catch-all selfie tag and then. you can hardly even see my face in the pics #anyways. *wears my daycare fit to my root canal appointment bc i am a fucking clown for letting my tooth get this bad* 🙃 #also it’s just very comfortable and i like it. but yeah! 4th dentist appt. out of 7 is done and dusted!!! #yes it’s 7 now instead of 6 because of course it is. of course it is. #it’s fine tho. i think today was the worst of it and it was overall a very fine time! i once again had no need for the sickening amounts #of anxiety that kicked my ass for the last two days prior to the appointment. as soon as i got settled in the chair that weird haze #of Calm washed over me and everything went well! but does my anxiety care about that? does it learn? no! never! #so i’m sure i’ll be sick with fear again the next three times as well but oh well. what can i do but suffer thru it #anyways if u wanna know what burning trees smell like and hear a disconcerting sizzling noise coming from ur mouth just get a root canal #it’s fun it’s a really great sensory experience (/i am Lying it is Not a fun sensory experience. take care of ur teeth and avoid the pain) #it’s lighthearted though it’s really not That bad. like i could tolerate it totally fine but it’s also not. fun. it’s just. Unplesant #anyways on another note i think i’m developing a crush on my dentist’s assistant lmao #like not Really but like also that’s not a complete joke. like. do u ever meet someone and just feel like you’d be friends #like it’s not something you’ll ever act on but you can’t ignore the feeling regardless? #it’s wild bc they look So fucking similar to someone i used to have a brief weird thing going with #like they both have such distinct eyes/facial features that i’ve never really seen on a lot of other people #and they compliment my hair and i compliment their tattoos and they tell me about the latest movies they’ve watched while i’m laying there #in the dentist chair for 50 minutes waiting for the dentist to finish with an unexpected drop-in patient #and they open the blinds to see what the deal is with the screaming old people outside the windows and they crack jokes and ramble about #their travel plans and they struggle to mix the temporary filling paste into the right consistency and they apologize for their handwriting #on the appointment cards they give me and i tell them it’s good handwriting and i mean it and Oh No i’m romanticizing my dentist visits. #aren’t i. lmao ANYWAYS i’m that dumbass that falls for every single person that is ever nice to me at all ever it’s fine i’m normal #the dentist delay was nbd btw i’m one of those freaks that actually enjoys waiting and also it was a bit of an emergency #for this mennonite mom and her son with an abscessed tooth so like who could be mad abt that #i’m never making another afternoon appt. again tho cause holy shit they get busy. i was in the waiting room for 30mins alone #1hr appt. turned into a 2.5hr appt. :) but it’s fine i just read fanfic on my phone to pass the time. and you’d think it was a dca fic #based on my clothes but no it was BG3 Astarion x Reader Hurt/Comfort bc i’ve latched onto a new blorbo this week and can’t get enough #so i’m obsessed with this traumatized vampire elf now but that’s a story for a different post’s tags

[lilyarchived]

distanced [simon "ghost" riley]

a/n: can you tell i like writing angst?

warnings: swearing, hurt to comfort, fem outfit, a little ooc if you squint, 1.201 words oops

summary: after a fight with ghost, you don’t pay any attention to him for the whole day, deciding it’s what he wants anyway.

“forget it, you’re a fucking asshole.” you sniffle, turning your back and grabbing your keys, storming out of the little apartment complex you two had been sharing for 6 months. his breathing was heavy, his huge form heaving up and down as he just watched you leave. ‘that’s it, then?’ you think to yourself, hesitant to keep walking to your car. god it was freezing. you go to fix your coat but you haven’t brought one. sighing, you quicken your pace to the car. it was dark out. 

your drive to your old apartment was quick, it was 2 am and the only cars out were people who had night shifts. you just wanted to talk to him, that’s all. you just wanted to spend time with your boyfriend, that’s all; yet that seemed to set him off. screaming and tears were all that you remembered. you remembered how you flinched when he raised his hand to fix his hair. you remember his horrified look. you remember getting in your car and, oh. that’s now.

you reach your apartment and the first thing you do is lay down for 10 minutes to cool down. after deciding that’s enough moping around, you take a good look at your surroundings and decide it’s time for redecorating. you spent the whole early morning moving furniture around and hanging up new posters and renewing bedsheets, and adding new scents to your humidifier, and blasting feel good songs, and.. and.. you miss him.

never mind that, you finish up and decide to take time for yourself to unwind, showering, skincare, reading, and doing all sorts of your hobbies you haven’t gotten the chance to do. sitting comfortably on your polished couch as you flip through the pages of your book and take a long sip of your warm coffee, you start to appreciate life and yourself just a little bit more. that doesn’t help the fact that there is a part of you longing for him, missing how he’d usually be behind you cuddling, some documentary playing in the background as his soft snores fill the silence.

stop it! god! get a grip, [Y/N]! stop thinking about him! what’s so good about Lieutenant Simon “ Ghost “ Riley anyway!? it’s not like he makes you feel like you’re the only person in the world, not like he has that one soft look whenever it comes to you, it’s not like,, you love him. a long and exaggerated sigh came out of you as the realisation hits. you do love him. but what does it matter now? it’s been 4 long hours since you’ve seen him, he hasn’t even called! you check your phone again to look for any missed calls but all you get is a message from soap saying “yer late 2day?” ‘ohhh no.’ “shit.” you mumble as you search for your keys as you race to your car and get to the base as fast as you can. 

you blast through the debriefing room wearing a brown tank top with a brown cardigan hanging loosely, your moss green long skirt ruffled as you plop your messenger bag on the table, hair claw barely keeping your wild hair up. headphones still hanging on your neck as you apologise for being late. “glad to see you’ve dressed up first, eh?” price remarks with a small smile as he continues talking, your cheeks blushing from embarrassment, forgetting to get into uniform since you had left in such a rush. you straighten your hair as you take notes during the whole meeting, all while feeling a familiar pair of eyes scan your body.

you’re purposefully ignoring him, going straight to your office once the debriefing was over, despite his calls for your name. he didn’t wanna spend time with you? that’s fine, you’ll give him what he so desperately wants. you lock yourself in the room to take at least 3 minutes to just get a hold of yourself and breathe. you finally get up to do some of the paperwork you’ve been putting off, and get to price’s office to be assigned more.

“this is unusual, you want more work?” he raises an eyebrow at you before filing some more paper. “yes sir.” a hum is all you get out of him. you stand there for at least another minute waiting for more orders, that is until he calls in the man you’ve been dreading to see. “WHAT? NO. WHY WOULD YOU-” you shut up instantly as you hold your breath when his big frame comes in. “go help him out with drills, since you so badly want to work.” your captain’s sassy ass voice is making your eye twitch, but you nonetheless comply. you were the first to step out of the room infuriated and hot-headed, awaiting more orders from your lieutenant.  

as soon as you finish up helping the new recruits as ordered, you ignored your boyfriend's orders of wanting to talk after the drills. you speed walk to your room to lay down, bruised feet and sore back, whining and groaning at the pain. you immediately sit up as you hear your bedroom door creak open, wondering who it is since you had it locked. you go through the list of who could have your key and the only one to cross your mind is your boyfriend you’ve been ignoring for the whole day. and to no surprise it’s him, simon riley, who walks into your door and kneels beside your legs.

“what’re you doing?” you ask, rubbing your eyes and groggily shuffling your hair. he just sighs and starts massaging your legs, hoping you would take this as a silent apology. “god stop it, simon.”

he doesn’t listen to your complaints as he pushes your small frame (compared to his, i mean c'mon this man is a giant) on the bed, laying you down as he cuddles on top of you. “si- i can’t breathe.” he only shifts a little to the side so that he wouldn’t accidentally crush you with his sheer strength. “‘m sorry, didn’t mean to make you cry like that.” your eyes flutter shut as you calm your breathing, still being bear hugged by your lieutenant beside you. “was so worried, thought i’d never see you again.” his deep vibrating voice tickles your ears, making you slightly happy. the warmth you’ve been longing for was back.

“don’t you ever do that to me again.” you whisper, finally hugging him back and facing him for the first time in a while. “yes ma’am.” he replies, moving your stray hair strands back to see your face better. “won’t ever let you go again.”

a/n: outfit i was thinking of ,, anyway this was kinda like forced, i’ve been wanting to write this for so long and only got the time to do so now sooooooooooooo hope u like it mwua mwua stay hydrated

#rbn writes #cod mwf2 #cod mwii #cod x reader #cod mw2 #ghost cod #cod modern warfare #ghost x reader #ghost #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #ghost simon riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon riley x you #cod angst #cod mw ghost #ghost angst #cod ghost #cod ghost angst #call of duty mw2 #call of duty mwii #call of duty #call of duty ghost #ghost call of duty #mwii #mw2 #ghost mwii

[rageserenity]

It's 2024. Are you still thinking about movieverse!Cherik? Because I am.

For the past several months, there's only been a very slow trickle of posts/fics in the xmcu cherik tag. Let's try to breathe some life back into this incredible pairing!

With one clear winner of my poll, here's thirty prompts for the thirty days of April. (This is a super chill, laid-back event---do these in any order, interpret them as loosely as you like! Create in any medium! Fic, art, gifs, meta, incoherent screaming about the otp…all winners in my book.)

The only rule here is to cherik too close to the sun. Alright. Here are the prompts.

Mutual Pining

Doesn't really even need elaboration! Write that horrifically slow slow-burn. Gif every time McAvoy made insane fuck me eyes on screen. Make a playlist of songs about impossible love.

2. Alternate Meetings

There are endless quotes about how these two complete each other in a way no one they'd met before or after ever did. How else could they have met?

3. Erik Has A Telepathy Kink

This is basically canon. Let my boy get freaky!

4. Canon Fix-It

All the times Fox fucked it up. There are endless options.

5. Hurt/Comfort

Put them in that Situation. Put them in that Blender. Break them apart and put them back together ❤️‍🩹

6. Canon Compliant

Draw that missing scene! Gif your favourite cherik moment!

7. Beach Divorce

Make it worse. Make it better. Show it to us exactly how it was. Break it down in a 3,000 word meta. Go wild!

8. Domestics

Sometimes you just want to see them doing normal couple things. Erik put the gun down.

9. Found Family

The real heart of x-men!

10. Time Travel

There are SO many possibilities here. Stick them in a time loop. Give them a chance to change their past.

11. AU

Love a good AU!

12. There Is Only One Bed

Had to get this one in here. What better way to amp up the tension?

13. Genosha

By some miracle, cherik actually did end up together at the end of 2019s trash bag disaster Dark Phoenix. We aren’t making a big enough deal about this.

14. Declaration(s) of Love

Who says it first? How do they say it and when? Have they said it…without saying it?

15. Jealousy

Need I say more.

16. Reunion

These two have absolutely no chill.

17. Soulmates

Classic prompt, had to get this in here too.

18. The DOFP Aircraft

The TENSION here. Break it down for me. How does Charles feel about his injury? How does Erik feel about his injury?

19. Gay Mutant Road Trip

You already know.

20. Body Swap

SO fun when people have superpowers.

21. First Kiss

When? How? Who initiated it?

22. The Mansion

Mansion!content is a genre of its own.

23. Conflicting Ideology

Give me your theses. Who’s right? Can they ever reconcile completely? Write a fic where it drives them apart.

24. Sebastian Shaw

A trope unto himself.

25. Team As Matchmaker

They had to have known something was going on, didn’t they?

26. Cooking

Charles deserves a good meal. Also, imagine Erik using his powers in the kitchen. The sheer domesticity…

27. Hurt No Comfort

Plenty of scope with these two 🥲

28. Growing Old Together

Giving Sirs Ian Mckellan and Patrick Stewart their props as well!

29. Making Up

*pushes chess board across the table* sorry babe

30. Charles Xavier Did More For Mutants Than You'll Ever Know

Rising to each other’s defense. Only I can insult this man.

I will be tracking #revivecherik to reblog stuff! Here’s a fic collection for the same. Let’s get this ball rolling! Please feel free to send me an ask if you’ve got anything to say! And most importantly, let’s all have fun 😁

*I know a few of you preferred something like a gift exchange because of the commitment factor—I’m super down to organise a tiny one for the handful of us! If this promptathon doesn’t flop horribly, we can hopefully do a whole bunch of stuff :)

If you read this post all the way through, please reblog for reach! Thank you! Hoping you participate come April.

Shoutout to @inmymagnetoera for reaching out and helping with this!

#revivecherik #cherik #charles xavier #erik lehnsherr #xmfc #james mcavoy #michael fassbender #x men days of future past #x men #charles x erik #magneto #professor x

[poeticpascal]

I've Got You (Dbf!Joel Miller x Reader)

Masterlist | Request here!

Summary: When a date set up by your father goes wrong, your secret boyfriend and Dad's best friend races to protect you.

Word count: 5.2k

Warnings: smut, 18+, MDNI, attempted sexual assault, abusive language, reader's date is a tory prick, soft!dom!Joel, blowjob, unprotected sex, use of pet names.

A/n: So... this is my first time writing smut. I am super proud of this one, so please let me know what you think! Requests are open so for more Joel/Pedro action, you know where to find me x

Dating your Dad’s best friend is hard. And stupid. Really, you have no clue why either of you thought this'd be a good idea. But you were so far down this path now, so entangled in late night meet-ups and whispered phone calls and unspoken thoughts that sounded a lot like ‘I love you’, that it was too late to turn around and steer the sinking ship of this utter mess back to shore.

More than anything, you hate not having any normalcy with him. You can’t fall straight into his arms after a hard day. You can’t cuddle into his side with a bowl of popcorn watching crappy weeknight telly. You can’t go to the store together, holding hands and making him laugh as you insist on buying a flavour of ice cream that you know he’d love. And it sucks.

Because everyone said Joel would never be one to settle down. He’s too wild, too rough to fit into a polished little box like that. And you’d thought the same. Until you fucked him, then fucked him again, and kept going back until you could see the pain in his eyes each time you left. You could practically feel the heaviness settle in his stomach as you left his bed to sneak back home. It hurts him as much as it does you, and if you weren’t so incredibly in love with him, that would’ve been enough to make you run.

Despite how long you’d kept this going now, a good 6 months at least, it never got any easier. Especially when your Dad started talking about dating. He was protective, but more than anything he wanted to see you happy. So when you suddenly became distant, hiding in your room more often and going out on dates much less, he was concerned. Nowhere near as concerned as he’d be if he found out why you were acting that way, you thought, but concerned all the same.

So when he came home one day, beaming and shouting for you to come downstairs, you thought nothing of it. When he explained there was a new apprentice at his work that he thinks you’d like, you weren’t surprised. And when he told you he’d set up a blind date with said boy, you felt sick.

Because you really couldn’t get out of it. You tried.

“Dad, I just don’t feel like dating right now.”

“Oh come on, you used to have a new date every few weeks. I’m just worried about you. Matthew's really nice, and he likes the same shitty music you do-”

“It’s good music.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. I just…” he paused, his worry painted on his face, and there's no way you could’ve said no to him. “Honey, I want you to be happy. I don’t know what’s gotten into you recently” - your best friend, you thought - “but I just need to know you’re okay. So give this a go, for me, alright? And if you have an awful time, that’s it, I’ll never set you up again.”

You sighed. He was right; it’s just one night, one date. One box you have to tick to relieve the pressure that comes from having an affair with your next door neighbour, the one more than twice your age, the one your Dad would call a brother. And besides, your Dad would be working an overnight job, so you’d be spending the night at Joel’s anyway. Something to look forward to.

“Okay, yeah. I’ll go. For you.”

He pulled you in for a hug, tight, and you hugged him right back because you really do hate having to keep this from him. He pulled away, smiling - “great! It’s tonight at 7. He’ll pick you up.”

“You already arranged it?!” You near enough shrieked, but he’d already sauntered off to the kitchen, giggling as he went. 

Typical.

So that’s how you ended up here, at 6:55pm, waiting by the front door for Marcus - or Michael, or something like that - to pick you up. Your phone buzzes, Joel’s name flashing on the screen, that alone making you feel that much calmer.

You’d text him as soon as you talked to your Dad, letting him know about the date. He understood, and you loved that about him; he was mature, compassionate, and he was more than secure in the fact that no matter who you talked to, who flirted with you on nights out, who you were set up with… you’d always come back to him. 

Don’t worry about tonight, baby. It’ll go quickly. I’ll leave the door unlocked for when you get back. Text me if you need picking up. J x

You smile at his initial at the end - it’s such a Dad thing to do, but it makes you happy, especially when he adds a little kiss. He only does that for you.

The sudden sound of a car door closing snaps you out of your thoughts, Joel’s text left on read as what you assume to be your date heads up the driveway. You take a deep, nervous breath, smoothing out your dress and heading to the door just in time for his knock.

You open the door, take a good look at your date, and he’s… okay. Not unattractive, per se. Though you’d come to accept a little while ago that being with Joel had soured your perception of pretty much every other guy. His dusty blonde hair is slicked back with gel, his teeth are way too white, and he’s dripped in designer clothing that just screams, “I have a trust fund.”

“Oh, hi! I’m Matthew.” Right. Matthew. “You must be (Y/N).” He leans in to peck your cheek, and all you can think about is how smooth his skin is as it grazes yours. Nothing like Joel’s coarse stubble that you love so much - especially when it leaves red patches on your cheeks, and your neck, and if you’re really lucky -

Matthew leans back a little, confused, and you’re brought out of your daydream. “Sorry, yeah, that’s me. (Y/N).” 

Well, that was awkward.

You just need to get through these next few hours, you think to yourself, smiling at the boy and letting him lead you out of the house and into his car. You can’t help but glance towards Joel’s place across the street; it looks quiet tonight, though his truck is in the driveway, and as soon as you look up you’re sure you catch the living room blinds suddenly draw shut. You smirk.

──────

The date was going… okay. About as okay as a date you don’t want to be on, with someone you have no interest in, and another man constantly on your mind could go. You could see why your Dad liked him; smart enough, well-polished. His father was a partner in the company, you learned - oh, he’s a ���Daddy’s credit card’ type you’d thought - and by all intents and purposes he was the sort of guy any parent would hope to see their daughter end up with.

It’s never that easy though, is it?

Because he isn’t rough around the edges like Joel. He doesn’t have his stature, or carry himself with the same brute certitude. You can’t imagine him fucking you up against the wall, working himself up until he’s almost animalistic, somehow using you and worshipping you at the same time. And you can’t see him wrapping you up so tightly afterwards, holding you close and whispering how good you were for me, how proud of you I am.

No, only Joel could do that, and that’s how you like it.

The bill comes, Matthew suggests you split it. You don’t mind. He takes out his credit card, flashing it in front of you. “This is my Dad’s. I can use it as much as I want.” He’s smirking like he’s got something to be proud of, and you really had to fight the urge to roll your eyes. Instead you just smile, before paying your share and making small talk as you head out the door and towards his car.

“So, I thought we could head back to my place.”

You freeze. Yeah, no, not gonna happen. He’s got this shit-eating grin on his face, one you knew all too well from past college boyfriends - that’s a boy who thinks he’s getting some tonight. You shudder, wrapping your arms around your waist and trying to sound sincere as you reply, “this has been lovely, but I’ve got an appointment early in the morning” - not really a lie, if staying in bed with a man over twice your age getting fucked or cuddled or both counts as an appointment - “so I’d rather just head home.”

You reach for the passenger side door, but it’s locked. You try again, pulling on the handle, but it doesn’t budge. You realise then that he’s stepped closer, too close, crowding your vision as you turn to face him while keeping one hand on the door’s handle. He leans an arm against the roof of the car, right beside your head, staring you down. 

“Oh, come on, (Y/N). I’ve got the house to myself tonight, it’ll just be us. I know that’s what you want, don’t be shy.”

His free hand pinches your chin, his touch aggressive where Joel’s is rough but careful, and he tries to close the already too-small gap between you.

You dodge him quickly, slipping out from under his arm and backing up, away from the car, away from him. Matthew just watches you, incredulous, before laughing to himself and taking a step forward. “Look, baby, I know you want this. What is it, are you scared your daddy’s gonna find out?”

“What? No, I-” you splutter, but he interrupts.

“Get in the car, (Y/N). You don’t have to worry about anyone finding out. I can see the way you look at me, I bet you’re dying to fu-”

A heavy sickness has flooded your stomach, your nerves shot from the sudden escalation of what was supposed to be a quiet, albeit tedious, night. But his words hit you, and before you can even think, you’re shouting back at him. 

“You seriously think I want to fuck you? You can’t even pay your half of the bill with your own money. Fuck that. I’ll make my own way home.”

The smug look on his face is quickly washed away with anger, and you continue to slowly step backwards as Matthew follows you. A lick of fear sets in now as the pale streetlights cast shadows on his darkened expression, and you scold yourself for opening your mouth.

“The fuck did you just say to me? Do you know who my Dad is?” - this really isn’t a good time to roll your eyes - “You think you’re too good for me, you bitch? I’ll show you.”

He stalks you, and your eyes frantically dart back to the restaurant you’d just left, though you’d backtracked far enough to be almost at the door again.

People are dining and laughing, some just sitting and watching the world go by. You’re well within their view, and you turn back to see that Matthew’s gaze has followed your own and he’s connected the dots. He can’t do anything in front of them. He locks eyes with you again, scoffing, heading back to his car and loudly shouting something that sounded a lot like “fuckin’ bitch.” Nice.

He drives away; you’re safe, out of the situation, and as the relief floods you the adrenaline does too and tears prick at your eyes. You sit on a small bench just outside the restaurant, dotted with shrubbery and stains from spilt drinks you assume, and take out your phone.

Your last chat with Joel is already open, and you breathe slowly in an attempt to still your shaking hands as you type quickly,

Please come and get me. He was trying to get me to go back with him. Wouldn’t take no for an answer. He’s gone now but I have no ride home.

The text is marked as ‘read’ almost as soon as you send it, though you receive no reply. You didn’t expect to; Joel wasn’t much of a texter. Like, at all. He was slowly getting used to it, what with it being one of the only ways you could really talk when slipping over to his place was too risky. 

In this particular instance, you already knew he’d have read the text, dropped his phone without a second thought and hurried to his truck while muttering to himself what he’s gonna do to the kid, how he won’t see what’s comin’ to him.

Just how badly Joel might react worries you. He’s protective, incredibly so when it comes to you, and that combined with his white hot temper was surely a recipe for some sort of disaster.

Secretly, though, you loved it. And so as you sat on that little bench, frosty air nipping at your skin, you couldn’t help but revel in the warmth that pooled in your core at the thought of what sort of beast Joel would become tonight.

──────

It only takes him around 10 minutes to reach you, and you know for a fact he must’ve ran a red light or two because normally it’s a 20 minute drive at least into town. You stand, walking over to his truck, but before you can hop in he’s already storming out and wrapping you up in his arms, shielding you, eyes darting across the street.

“Where the fuck is he?”

“Joel, I-”

“(Y/N) where the fuck is he? I’m gonna kill that little bastard. Fucking-”

His body is tense, far more so than usual, and anger pours from him in buckets. You pull away to look up at him, his eyes still searching for the boy long gone, and you sigh. “He’s gone, Joel. He left.”

He finally meets your eyes, a cold frown etched on his face, and he somehow looks even angrier than usual. “Did he touch you?” His hands roam your body, searching for you didn’t know what, but you let him do whatever he needed to relax. To know you were safe.

“No, Joely, he didn’t. I’m fine, I promise.”

It usually softens him right up, your little nickname for him. Joely. The first few times you used it, he’d just scoff or roll his eyes, but the small smirk that crept onto his face each time let you know he loved it. Quite how much he loved it was a different story; you hadn’t got together then, though the both of you wanted it, and as your relationship blossomed you became the only one he ever let call him anything other than Joel.

It doesn’t work this time, though, and he remains stern, finally letting you go and searching your eyes for even a hint of anxiety or fear. “What happened?”

“He tried it on, I said no. He tried again, I backed up and made sure there were people watching,” you nod towards the restaurant, still bustling with life. “And he left.”

Joel nods. “You tell him to fuck off?”

“‘Course i did.” 

It seems as if he finally lets up then, giving you a proper hug, one arm around your neck and the other around your waist. He presses a kiss to the top of your head, hard, and the tension leaves him. “That’s my girl.”

You squeeze him tight, burrowing into his shirt and inhaling the scent of him that you loved so much. With one arm around your shoulders, he guides you back to his truck, opening the door for you and helping you. He does it everytime, but it still makes you blush, and you’re sure his lips smirk slightly as your cheeks turn red. Worth it.

The ride back to home is quiet, only the sound of his radio and passing traffic echoing between you. He keeps a hand on your knee, always protective, and every now and then you rub your palm over it to let him know you appreciate it. To say thank you.

Joel was never good with words, and you’d learned over the last few months just how much he relies on touch to express himself. To show love. You’d picked up on his habits, his little signs, his way of telling you his deepest thoughts without having to speak a word.

And when you reciprocated, when you wrapped your hand around his, or brushed his side at the neighbours’ BBQ, or kissed his shoulder in the kitchen, you knew just what it meant to him.

Your driveway is empty as Joel turns onto your street - your Dad must have set off for work already. You sigh in relief; you didn’t have the energy to explain all this to him, and certainly not the energy to try and sneak into Joel’s without him seeing.

Joel steps out first, taking a quick look around to make sure no nosey neighbours were watching, a precaution you were both used to by now. He grabs the door for you again, holding your hand and helping you out, holding you close to his side as he unlocks the door and you both slip inside.

“What do you want to drink?”

“I’m good, thanks.”

He pauses, looking at you, concerned. ”No. You need somethin’ to drink. You need to- to lie down, or somethin’.”

You follow him into the kitchen as he stalks past you, not giving you time to answer and filling a glass with water and ice. “Drink,” he hands it to you.

You take it, thanking him and sipping as he watches. It’s sweet; he cares about you, so much, and when he looks at you like this you can’t help but feel butterflies swirl in your stomach.

“I’m sorry.” It’s almost a whisper, so quiet you wouldn’t have heard if it weren’t so still already in his house.

“Hm?” You look at him, confused.

“I’m sorry he did that to you. S’not - s’not right. I mean, shit, what if you couldn’t get away?” He was spiralling.

“Hey, hey. Joel, it’s okay. I’m okay.” You set down the glass and take him in your arms. He calms, instantly, holding you tightly against him and cupping the back of your head with his hand.

“You shouldn’t have had to go through that.”

“I know.”

He sighs. “I just wanna protect you, honey.”

“I know.”

He pulls back to look at you, framing your face with his hands and running his thumbs along the edge of your cheekbones.  You lean in, letting his lips capture yours in that sweet but desperate way that only Joel can, and moan into his mouth. He slips his tongue against yours, letting one arm fall to your waist as his hand lingers around the hem of your jeans.

The kiss becomes desperate and you reach for his belt, your arousal becoming unbearable as the memory of him so full of anger and protectiveness spins in your mind like a carousel. He breaks the kiss and you groan, chasing his swollen lips with yours.

“We don’t have to do this.” His southern drawl is slick with need, his eyes closed as he rests his forehead against yours. The moment is so sweet, so intimate, that any thoughts of what had happened today were long gone and your mind was full with sweepings of him.

“I want to.”

He grunts, pushing himself further into you so his nose brushes yours like a cat. So much so, you almost purr into him, and it makes you giggle. You curse yourself as he pulls back, cocking an eyebrow and giving you that stare you’d come to know all too well; you’re a pain in my ass, it says. But the corners of his lips turn upwards, and you step forward so you’re once again pressed right up against him, pressing gentle kisses to his jaw.

“You’ve had a big shock today, sweetheart,” he sighs.

You know he’s given up. You know he needs this as much as you do. But you humour him, and tip his head down so you can kiss his lips again. 

“So make me forget.”

It snaps something within him, and you shriek as Joel sweeps you up in his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist in instinct and your head burying itself in his neck. He laughs at the sound you make, something you’d always known to be so rare for him, but that he does far more often now he has you. 

He carries you upstairs, gripping your thighs with his large hands, and the way he holds you so easily just turns you on more. He kicks his bedroom door open, all but throwing you on the bed and watching as you bounced softly on the sheets, undoing his belt that was already half-opened by your shaky hands.

“On your back. Lay your head towards me.”

You did as he said immediately, though your movements were slow, languid. He let you take your time; a part of you thinks he likes to watch you move for him, the way you put on a show, keeping your eyes locked on his and your lips slightly parted and puffy from his kiss. 

You lie on your back, your head dangling off the edge, looking up at him upside down. The hard outline of his cock is just centimetres above you, swollen already, and your desperation to taste it must’ve shown on your face because Joel groans out a soft, strangled “fuck.”

“You need this cock, baby? Need your throat fucked?” You just nod rapidly, desperate for him to do something other than just stand there and watch you, your arousal becoming unbearable. Joel seems to break, too, pulling down his jeans and boxers and gripping his hard length in his hands. 

It’s big at the best of times, but from this angle, his balls level with your eyes and his cock the only thing you can see when you look up at him, it’s painful how bad you need him.

You’d only discovered this position recently, on a night you’d spent at his place while your Dad was away with work, not unlike tonight. Joel had been floored, consumed with pleasure as the stretch of your spine made it so easy for him to slide himself through your mouth and down your throat, the muscles tensing around him and drawing his release much sooner than he’d have liked. 

He slides the head of his cock over your lips, painting them in his precum. You whine, lapping at his taste, desperate but you know better than to lift your hands off the bed. No, you give him control, and he lavishes it.

“Open up, babygirl.”

You comply, parting your lips and moaning as Joel pushes inside, giving you no time to breathe. You try to control yourself, inhaling through your nose and letting your muscles relax before he bottoms out, his groin almost entirely covering your face and your throat full of his thickness. 

It’s filthy, degrading, resigns you to nothing but his to fuck and use as he wants. 

You love it.

“Such a good girl, baby. So good for me, ain’t ya?” You can hardly even nod as your tongue flicks along a particularly swollen vein. He begins to move, pulling out almost entirely before slamming his cock back into your mouth. You moan again, and it hurts, in that delectable way that’ll spend the next few days reminding you of this moment.

Joel’s got one hand on the wooden foot of the bed, keeping himself steady. The other finds its way to your neck, and he stalls as he feels his cock beneath your skin, rapidly pushing in and out. He moans your name, his hips rocking into you harder and harder, chasing a release you knew he wouldn’t let himself have just yet. 

You’re completely at his mercy now, too consumed by his scent and his touch to think, and you hardly register him reaching for your hand and taking it in his own. He starts to mumble, and you only catch a few words - “my good girl. My girl. So- so fuckin’ pretty for me.”

He swells, your tongue working faster against him, his hand squeezing yours and his legs faltering when he suddenly pulls out and stands back with a whimper. Your eyes are glazed over, your sore throat misses him, and your pink swollen lips are trying to say something but you’re not sure what. It feels like his name.

“Come on, pretty girl, come here.” He sits beside you on the edge of the bed, wrapping his big arms around your back and guiding you into his lap. 

His fingers dance over your entrance, collecting the slick that soaked your thighs before pushing a single finger inside, revelling in your arousal. He admires you as you squirm, rolling your hips against his hand, desperate for more and moaning against his lips. 

It’s almost embarrassing how easy you unravel for him, and if it weren’t for your utter infatuation for the man, you’d have hidden your pleasure and at least tried to hold onto some sense of dignity. But you were obsessed, addicted to him, and he knew it. Because god, was he addicted to you, too.

He kisses you, letting another finger slip inside and catching your hiss with his mouth. “So fuckin’ perfect,” he mutters, opening his eyes to look at you, his cock twitching against your thigh. 

“Tell me what you need, angel.”

“Y- you, Joel. I need you. Please.” You hardly register yourself saying the words, but they do the trick, as Joel removes his fingers and instead lines the tip of his cock with your soaking wet entrance. 

“Please, please, fuck me. Fuck-” 

He snaps his hips upwards, driving his cock into your cunt and you gasp as he stretches you. You grip at his shoulders, sure to leave marks, but you know he loves it. 

He sets the pace, guiding you to bounce on his cock as his hips snap upwards again and again, fucking you so hard you can almost see stars. 

His head is buried in your neck, kissing and nipping at the delicate skin, and you try to regain some autonomy and roll your hips side to side making him mewl. 

“So - oh, fuck - so good baby, keep doin’ that.” He spurs you on as your breathless moans and the heavy slap of skin on skin fills the room, lewd but addictive.

The pace is brutal, unforgiving as your thighs tremble and you wonder if he’s feeling the burn of his movements. If he does, he doesn’t show it, just ramming into you and moaning your name against your ear. 

His hand falls from your waist and finds its way to your clit, making you gasp as he circles his thumb around the spot. The near pornographic moan that falls from his lips as you roll into his touch is nearly enough to make you cum right there, but you know better than to cum before he tells you to.

Instead he hoists you further up, giving him better control of your hips, and angles his cock so it hits that perfectly raw spot deep inside you that has tears in your eyes.

“I- I’m gonna-” 

“I know, baby. Just hold on for me. I’ve got you.” You cry at his denial, though it’s quickly forgotten as he flips you over onto your back, his head still tucked under the crook of your neck, his cock still buried inside you. He resumes his fast pace, reaching even deeper inside you with your legs locked around his waist, and you moan so loudly you worry someone’s going to hear you.

Joel doesn’t seem to care as he pulls back to look at you, marvelling at how utterly fucked-out you look for him. His pace starts to falter, each thrust more desperate than the last, and he frantically pushes his tongue into your mouth as you moan in unison.

“Cum for me baby, cum all over my cock, that’s it.” You release on command, crying out as waves of pleasure spread like fire through your body, and the uncontrollable spasms of your orgasm make Joel groan as he spills inside you, still rocking into you and carrying both of your highs.

He doesn’t let his cock slip out of you as he wraps an arm under your back and rolls onto his side, holding you close as he brushes the matted hair away from your forehead and replaces it with a soft kiss. You hum, snuggling into him and trying not to gasp at the feeling of his cock inside you while you were still so sensitive. He can see you flinch and smiles, though he just wants you to rest for now.

“You okay, babygirl?” You just hum again, but he taps your chin and you look up. 

“Answer me, angel.”

“I’m good. Tired.”

Joel nods, running his hand through your hair and agreeing, “me too.” 

You’re quiet for a moment, almost dozing off as the heat that radiates from him lulls you gently to seep, when he breaks the silence again. “What’s his name?”

“Hm?” You reply, too fucked-out to really understand what he was saying.

“That little asshole. What’s his name?”

He’s looking down at you, brows knitted together, and you just sigh. “It doesn’t matter, Joel. He doesn’t matter. I promise.”

“But-“

You cut him off with a kiss, and the tension that built in his shoulders is quickly dissipated. “No ‘but’s. Get some sleep.”

“Aright,” he resigns. “I love you.”

It slips out, sudden, and he freezes before he realises the joy that’s spread across your face from his words. It’s the first time either of you have said it, and the way your eyes light up are enough to let him die a happy man. You nuzzle his nose, your hand gently lay on his chest, your eyes falling shut again. “I love you too, Joel.” He wraps you up tighter, grinning, happy. In love.. “And no asking my Dad, either.”

He scoffs, “I wasn’t going to!” You just cock a brow, eyes still shut, and though you can’t see him you know he’s rolling his eyes. “Let me get you cleaned up, sweetheart.” 

He pulls out of you slowly, making you wince at the loss, and sits up on the bed. When you can still feel his weight beside you, you crack an eye open to see him quickly typing something on his phone, and you frown. “Joel?”

He startles and drops his phone, turning to you and kissing the top of your head. “Sorry, baby, I’m going - just gimme a sec to get you a warm cloth.”

As he leaves for the bathroom you snatch his phone, already knowing what he’d done. Your Dad’s name is at the top of the screen, the chat from just moments ago still open:

What’s the name of that kid (Y/N) went out with?

Matthew Wicks, he’s the new apprentice at work. Why?

Just wondered.

You’re weird, man.

Joel creeps out of the bathroom, frozen as he sees you lock his phone. He offers a small, guilty smile, quickly wiped away as you grab his pillow and playfully launch it at his chest. 

“JOEL!”

──────

Thank you so much for reading! As ever, comments and weblogs are so appreciated, and please let me know if you'd like to be tagged in my future fics!

#dbf!joel miller #dbf!joel x you #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller x yn #dbf!joel x reader #dbf!joel #joel miller #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x yn #pedro pascal #tlou fic #tlou show

[xoxoladyaz]

AU-gust, Day 6: Domestic

Eddie Munson was a rockstar. Eddie Munson was a renegade. Eddie Munson was a bad boy, living life on the edge, destined for wild nights on the open road, for success and fame and riches. Eddie Munson was – 

“ – ridiculous.”

“Excuse me?” Eddie whirled around from psyching himself up in the mirror to glare at Jeff. Jeff, who had the utter nerve to roll his eyes at him.

“You’re being ridiculous, man,” Jeff repeated.

“He’s not being ridiculous, he’s being a baby,” Gareth cut in with a snort.

Eddie gaped at his two best friends, his musketeers, his brothers in arms. “What – I – how dare you! I am not being a baby, I’m Eddie fucking Munson, I’m a high-rolling freak on the streets and in the sheets - ”

“Dude, gross.”

“ – who’s ready to rock across America!” He finished emphatically.

Jeff just quirked his eyebrow at him. “You’re literally pouting right now.”

“No, I’m not!”

Jeff and Gareth shared a look before sighing in tandem. “You’ve gone to bed before eleven every night the last few weeks. The rest of us aren’t even out of the venue by the time you’re asleep,” Gareth started.

“Not to mention the fact that you can’t do anything in the morning until you’ve called and talked to Steve,” Jeff continued.

“And if you can’t talk to Steve during his lunch break then you’re grumpy for the rest of the day.”

“You keep complaining about the fact that none of his shirts smell like him anymore - ”

“ – seriously, you threw a temper tantrum until Stu stopped and bought a bottle of his shitty cologne for you to spray on your pillow - ”

“ – and you keep making super long and sappy speeches about missing your ‘sweetheart’ every single performance before we play ‘Faithfully’ - ”

“ – it’s embarrassing dude, we’re a metal band!”

“ – and to top it all off, you literally can’t go more than three minutes without talking about Steve or what Steve would think of what we’re driving by and God forbid you make any sort of decision without talking to Steve first.”

Eddie stood frozen, paralyzed by the heat rushing towards his face. “I – I do not!”

Phil walked in from the back of the bus and chuckled. “Dude, you literally called him to ask if you should order ketchup or mustard with your burger last night.”

“I - ” Eddie sputtered before crossing his arms. “I – he was having burgers too and I wanted us to match!”

“Awww,” Gareth cooed mockingly, fluttering his eyes back at Eddie. “That’s so sweet.”

“Ignore him,” Jeff said, shoving Gareth off of his chair. “For the record, it is really sweet, man. So why are you trying to hide it with all this ‘bad boy of rock and roll stuff?’”

“What do you mean ‘hide it?’ I’ve always been a bad boy.”

Silence. (If they weren’t on a moving bus and had their windows open, it would have been the perfect moment for a symphony of crickets to kick in.)

Eddie squeezed his arms against his chest and pouted (and yes, he knew he was pouting this time, thank you very much.) “Rude.”

Jeff rose with a sigh and crossed the tour bus. When he reached Eddie he threw his arm around him in a half-hug. “Eds, my man, I love you, but you’ve only ever been scary looking.”

“Seriously, you’re the sappiest guy I know,” Gareth added unhelpfully.

“And before you say that’s not metal,” Jeff kept going (and yeah, he knew Eddie pretty well to head off that train of thought), “that’s what sets us apart from the rest of the bands on the scene.”

“What does?”

“You being a super loving guy, man,” Phil nodded with a dazed look in his eyes. “Truthfully, I think love is the most metal thing of all. It can change the world.”

“Wow,” Gareth snorted after a few moments, “have you gotten up close and personal with Mary Jane already today?”

“Well, yeah, but - ”

“What Phil is trying to say is that you’re made of love, dude. And it’d be a real shame if you lost track of that, especially because that’s what we love about you, and that’s what Steve loves about you,” Jeff finished. He squeezed Eddie’s shoulder comfortingly before letting go.

“You’re right,” Eddie rubbed his hands against his arms. “I know you’re right, it’s just – this was supposed to be what I wanted, you know? Touring and fame and the open road. But - ”

Jeff prodded him gently. “But?”

“But I miss Steve,” Eddie sighed. “I miss seeing him come home every day. I miss waking up next to him every morning and falling asleep next to him every night. I miss his delicious pasta dinners and his burned pancakes because he always burns them and I just – I don’t know how much longer I can keep doing this. I just miss him. But I don’t want to give up what we have either.”

The boys were silent for a moment, looking amongst each other and back at Eddie, who was wilting in on himself.

“Well,” Phil started, “we don’t have to tour like this. We could just do weekends maybe?”

“Or summers,” Jeff hummed thoughtfully. “That way Steve can come with us.”

“And Will!” Gareth perked up, grinning. “He doesn’t take classes in the summers, he’d be able to come with us then.”

“And that way by the time we’re done touring, Steve will be headed back to work and you can be home with him,” Jeff nodded, like it was decided. “We can definitely make that work.”

Eddie’s voice was small and quiet when he spoke. “You’d really do that for me?”

“I mean, it wouldn’t be just ‘for you,’ it would be good for all of us, but yeah, man. We just want you to be happy. That’s way more important than any tour.”

Eddie nodded once, twice, and then he was throwing his arms around Jeff and tackling him to the floor. “Thank you thank you thank you, you guys are the best, Steve’s gonna be so excited I gotta go tell him RIGHT NOW - ” and then Eddie was off, whooping happily into the back of the tour bus.

Jeff sat up from his spot now on the floor and exchanged looks with Gareth and Phil. “You’re good with that, yeah?”

“Dude, if Eddie wasn’t going to say anything, I was,” Gareth shook his head. “Eddie’s way less of a slob when Steve’s around.”

“And he’s a great cook! I’m getting tired of all this Taco Bell.”

“Speak for yourself, Phil!” Gareth growled, affronted, and the three remaining Corroded Coffin members began arguing about the nutritional benefits of Taco Bell.

(When they finally went on tour again the following summer it was a much better experience for everyone involved. Eddie was almost constantly in a good mood, Gareth didn’t feel the need to strangle Eddie for hogging the phone, Phil ate his weight in homemade – or hotel-made – pasta, and Jeff? Jeff got to enjoy himself without any worries about his best friend losing his way, because anytime Eddie got a little stressed or in his head, all it took was one look at Steve and he was okay, and that was more than worth the crowded tour bus.)

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #stranger things #rock star eddie munson #steddie fanfic #corroded coffin #august fanfic challenge

[charmedreincarnation]

Hey, guys! I've been receiving a ton of messages in response to my last post. It's reminding me of how I first discovered shifting. I feel like doing a little story time since Ive just passed the three-year mark of my discovery, and I've been reminiscing with friends about it.

I remember being in a very dark place when I stumbled upon shifting. I was depressed, and very suicidal. Yet, there was this unshakeable optimism inside me that I was meant for an extraordinary life. Despite my mental state, I had a lot of knowledge of subliminals and the law of attraction (-_-). These gave me hope, but they weren't enough tbh. I didn't want to attract my dream life through practicing gratitude or becoming a magnet for my desires or whatever. Nor did I want to have to listen to subliminals for years on end to achieve my goals. My list of desires was so long, and I needed everything to change that going step by step and waiting years for each one to manifest just wasn't feasible.

But I refused to give up. One day, after a particularly hard day of being sad per usual, I searched on Quora for something like "fastest most powerful subliminals on YouTube ever" (Y’all 😭😭). Among the recommended sub creators, I found a video called "Desired Life: Reality Shifting". The description promised everything I had ever wanted: waking up with all your desires fulfilled permanently in short. It piqued my curiosity so much. Could I really just wake up with my dream life, family, house, wealth, all based on my scripts and imagination?

Growing up, I was a heavy maladaptive daydreamer. From ages 10-17, I created alternate lives in my head, telling myself I would go there someday. I was always doing SATs (State Akin to Sleep), and I think that's what kept me from ending it all. I was constantly in the wish fulfilled state, even though I didn't know what that was at the time.

Back to my story, I went into the comments of that video and came across a guy who claimed that after a week of using this subliminal, he woke up with a new life as a multi-millionaire living in his dream penthouse. I messaged him, and he gave me his Instagram which showcased his luxurious life. He had what seemed like a perfect relationship, he was very attractive, had so many cars, and travelled 24/7 while having a six figures amount of followers. He was living proof that this wasn't just scripting. Also the law of attraction community is known for their mad expensive coaching.. like hundreds of dollars per hour for questions and he was answering it all for free something I didn’t see the law of attraction community. And I talked to him for hours! He never got mad, he had proof, and he was kind, proof and the behavior of someone who really had mastered the art of life.

After our conversation, I spent the next couple of months doing research. I found numerous stories about glitches in the matrix, accidental shifting, people entering parallel realities, and eventually, shifting communities on platforms like Amino and Reddit. It was stuff I already believed in and did in my imagination; I just didn’t know there was a term for it.

Then I got reminded of a memory that I had seriously repressed bc it was so fucking weird. When I was 6 and my brother was 3, we were absolutely obsessed with dodo birds. One day, we were outside playing, and on god time seemed to stop. Out of nowhere, a dodo bird appeared. I know you’re probably like “maya be so fr rn you were a kid” but no, This wasn't just our young imaginations running wild - there was a bird that was huge, dinosaur-like, exactly how dodos are described in books and pictures we had.

Then things got weirder. Suddenly it started raining eggs. Big, large eggs everywhere it was so gross and my brother and I were a mess. We were young, sure, but not stupid. We knew this wasn't normal. My brother and I rushed inside to tell our dad. When I managed to drag him outside, he was furious, accusing me of throwing eggs everywhere. To this day, he tells the story of the time I "trashed the backyard with eggs." And every time, I'm like, "Dad, where would I get that many eggs?" We didn’t have eggs but so he assumed I stole them and we went inside for hours and it was magically cleaned. So he also tells the story of how responsible I am and how I took accountability for my actions even as a child. I didn’t clean that shit bro and I tell him that too and he just laughs it makes me so mad.

My brother, who knows I'm into reality shifting (though he doesn’t really believe in it), can't explain that day either. He often shrugs it off as a "glitch in the matrix," which honestly, well no duh it is a shift dummie. He does believe in manifesting but only bc he has seen me use it and he experiences the good things I manifest as well. They’re the same thing anyways but that isn’t the point

The reason I'm bringing up this bizarre childhood memory is because during my months of research into shifting, I found countless stories of accidental shifts, people entering the void, entering parallel universes, time glitches, examples of the Mandela effect first hand, glitches in the matrix and etc. It was like uncovering a myriad of experiences that confirmed what I already believed: we can change and choose our reality. I just didn’t know the phenomena had a name. Obviously in the future I came across other things like the law of assumption, the void state, etc etc but this was where it started.

I wish I had saved all those fascinating stories, posts, and blogs. I might go back and compile everything I found because they were so real and enlightening. It will probably take forever tho if I do choose to do that, but I think it's worth sharing.

In the meantime, check out this accounts of accidental shifts that my friend shared with me this account https://instagram.com/tessicavision?igshid=OGQ5ZDc2ODk2ZA== based off the Glitch in the Matrix subreddit which is also a goldmine of people experiencing similar phenomena. It helped me make sense of my own experiences and might do the same for you.

I don’t want this to be too long and I already got to the point I think! but regardless stay curious and realize you’re really not that special. I mean ofc you are, i mean this is not some tumblr thing teens girls discovered or created and isn’t even limited to “spiritually/manifesting inclined people” I think at the beginning of my journey people talking about accidental shifts and such, inspired me more than purposeful success stories because they really have no reason to lie and they were looking for answers just like I was.

#law of assumption #manifesation #manifesting #reality shifting #shiftblr

[capslocked]

KINKVEMBER DAY: 6

[prompt: blowjob]

male reader x hyeju

12k words

“I mean, don’t you think,” Hyeju says, wagging a finger at you, “that when you suffer through a bad date, the world ought to owe you something?”

"Like what?" you ask.

"Better taste in women - maybe more orgasms; I dunno, a blowjob?" She shrugs. "The general idea is just that someone gets to cum."

You nearly choke on the air in front of you. "Jesus, Hyeju, warn a guy."

“What? I’m trying to commiserate with you,” Hyeju laughs. “Wouldn’t that be funny? Being able to kiss someone who actually, you know, might love you back, and at the same time. Imagine not hooking-up just to forget a shitty day. Sounds wild, right?"

"Utterly deranged."

"So wild."

-

The first time you hook up with your roommate, it’s because of genetics - though not in the weird, uncontrollable way your body gets rigid and sensitive to any pretty girl who wears nothing but a towel moving between her bedroom and the bathroom, or how her eyes might flick fast from your chest up to yours - or given that the absolute shape of her is a blessing from one god or another (benevolent, clearly). That's not why Hyeju and you find yourselves only a few months later grinding on each other after the clock ticked past midnight, making out on New Year's Eve.

No, it has to do with the fact that Hyeju's nearly failing the nine AM section of molecular genetics because she's spent every lecture doodling stars and planets and planets shaped like asscheeks and planet-ass constellations while everyone else writes notes or doom scrolls twitter or whatever and she is somehow simultaneously the only student who never slept with her face on the lab desk or missed an assigned reading and the only one who absolutely needs a tutor.

It's just cosmic odds that you'd be that one: her roommate, who shouldn't be talking so loudly in the library about sex (in a sort of non-sexy, Mendelian kind of way) or be thinking the kind of things you've started thinking when Hyeju wears one of her more sleepshirt-esque long sleeves, her voice getting lower as you rattle off, "fruit flies and thale cress, definitely, it's just an error of fate or chromosome splitting..." before trailing off into a question.

"This is the worst thing that has ever happened to me," she finally tells you. You listen to her sigh into the binding of her textbook, facedown. "I'm really going to bomb this exam."

You tap her hand twice with your highlighter across the desk. "Then you're pretty damn lucky, if you think about it."

She turns to you, smiles a bit. "Okay, point. The worst thing will be having to retake this stupid fucking class."

"Why didn't you ask for help or go to office hours if you knew you were... failing?"

"Maybe because doing anything more than the bare minimum to get through a class I don't care about is my definition of, failing," she mumbles. "Why didn't anyone tell me a single lab is worth half my grade? Or that the TA is this fucking unreliable? How is this the one thing, really, beyond the basics, that can't be taught by wikipedia, a wikihow article and a youtube video?"

You scoot your seat closer to her. "You really need to relax."

"Fucking tell me about it."

You turn it over in your mind a few times, capping the top of your highlighter.

"Want me to get you off?"

And it’s not like you really mean it, when you say it, which is the strangest thing: you wouldn't actually suggest it, normally, wouldn't mention it in passing and then leave yourself open to the follow up and cross examination; yet there it is, after three, four hours of cramming notes on heterochronicity and the sloshing of gametes - you actually did propose it.

Hyeju jerks up, surprised.

"Are you serious?" She looks around, nearly snorting. "In the library?"

The face you’re giving her makes her scoff.

“You’re absolutely nuts.”

You have character flaws; the inability to admit wrongdoing chief among them. Hell, maybe it's from your mother - or maybe all your brains are just scrambled by the fact that Hyeju's sitting there with her pen against her pretty lips, hair glossier than usual as she scans your face and makes your entire body feel like a reactor core in meltdown.

Maybe you can blame what comes next on that.

"I'm always serious. I'm asking a serious question," you whisper, closing the textbook and resting your elbows on top. You look around quickly, like you're sneaking something in instead of this perfectly reasonable exchange, the perfectly platonic - except maybe not so much - way for friends to help each other.

"And I'm wondering what you're asking." Her cheeks are definitely pinker, you think, or the way it fills out her face, from the bottom up, is just that easy to imagine.

“I’m saying you haven’t gotten laid in months.” Here, you realize, these blocks of mental logic that definitely weren’t there when you blurted it out start to coalesce into something solid as you go on.

And you hadn't been wrong when you thought no one had given Hyeju a helping hand in a long, long time: you've heard through the walls or the floorboards at odd hours of the morning that she spends far too long fingering herself to a mind-numbing, tear-worthy frustration that leaves her knuckle-deep but never, ever sated or satisfied.

"No one's around, you'll feel better. You said it yourself."

Not a work of your imagination here - her ears are fucking burning.

"Wait a minute." She pushes her chair back, away from you and your gleaming offer. It clatters on its back legs, and a librarian waves her finger in warning. You wave back, sheepishly, until she stops and Hyeju stands and moves away from the table to talk, hands crossed over her front.

She turns and asks in a hushed-down-voice, "how did you know - did you hear something last night?"

"You couldn't keep it down even if you wanted to, honestly."

Hyeju turns further and throws a glare at the library doors, because obviously her noisiness and their collective noisemanship, or whatever the hell the word is, is clearly the root of the whole goddamn problem.

"Look - if not, no big deal - but I'm just saying you'll probably get over it and at least think less about sex. Or at least the wrong kind of sex."

You expect her to turn, sigh, and ask if you've lost your mind. Expect her to gather her jacket from the back of her chair, take her books and stomp out the room. Or even burst out laughing at the insanity, before slapping your arm lightly, in playful retaliation - anything other than the serious look she gives you in return, tilting her head, pressing her lips.

She turns up at the ceiling for a moment, contemplating something. And it's cute. It's so very, very cute, how her mouth pouts as she considers the possibility, right up until she says, "okay, fine."

The moderate twist of surprise taking hold in your brow must be visible.

"Oh, don't tell me that was all talk. Get me thinking about the right kind of sex or whatever."

You laugh, which has the librarian staring at both of you - until the librarian stops staring and probably sees Hyeju sliding back into her chair, the full, pent-up weight of her concentration pointed your way, knees inching apart - you, and Hyeju waiting, your knee bumping into her inner thigh, leaning closer as the textbook hits the floor.

"Don't laugh."

"Not laughing, seriously. Not laughing," you stammer. “I just think you’re just full of surprises.”

She spreads her knees further and sits taller, looking right at you.

"So then, surprise me," and then presses her cheek to the crook of your elbow.

You slide your chair right into the space next to hers, nuzzling up into the space under her ear. “Keep studying, Hyeju, you’ve got shit to do.” And then you slide your hand beneath the waist of her sweats, knead the swell of her thigh until you find the seam where her leg meets her body, press your palm down on the place just next to her center, your thumb in the middle. All this perfect pressure.

"Fuck," Hyeju says under a shudder. She's breathing heavier when your hot, open-mouthed kisses start landing at her neck, and she probably tries to read her textbook for about forty-five seconds longer. But there's the clench of her jaw right as your middle finger begins tracing circles beneath the fabric of her panties, and her gaze is blurring until she can't tell the difference between an allele or your fucking name.

"Shh-shh," you quiet her, finger tapping harder, playing with the slick wetness beneath all those layers of thick cotton and pressing two fingers there until her knees part like they’re not interested in resisting at all. Your lips press a kiss to the shell of her ear and she tenses all at once, hand shooting up to cover her mouth.

She simply leans back, closes her eyes, and lets you take care of her.

“Okay, you’re right,” she says, shaky and uneven, “that really did take some of the edge off. Did we ever review - poly- uh, pol-polymers here?"

The sweatshirt sleeve falling off your shoulder is a hindrance to any actual reading; her shifting against the chair isn't helping either, but you manage to push down the thoughts of stripping her down completely and giving her your tongue as yet another distraction.

"What did the syllabus say? I don't know if we need to read too far on 'polymers'," you say, having going through an entire afternoon without considering this once, but as you curl your fingers and take an honest crack at cramming the remaining chapters into her head, the knowledge that no one else is getting her this wet - except for whoever she's got in her mind's eye at three AM - is enough to get you feeling a little dizzy.

-

It’s probably supposed to be weird, given that you’ve never gotten any of your other friends off spontaneously in the library, or there's the fact that you can't really avoid each other afterwards, how she shows up in a silk negligee when you're pouring coffee before sunrise to prep for another day and you have the opportunity to notice - yes, she has amazing taste in underwear, yes, you might not have really appreciated her chest and figure enough before - yes, fuck it. She catches you noticing that first time, after coming downstairs with nothing but one of her cropped t-shirts and her board shorts, and she smirks when she realizes you're still thinking about it that afternoon, when her foot grazes yours while you're both washing dishes, and she dries the plate in her hand with a slow swipe.

And it is weird, actually, to describe what’s going on between you in words. 

A few words, anyway, like a one-word label to describe what it was: friends or roommates-with-benefits, or - fuck buddies - god, it's even worse. Fuck buddies? Fuck friends? Something equally terrible and stupid that still makes sense, like something out of a shitty rom-com: it doesn't capture any of the rest of the myriad ways in which things can feel less or less friendly between two people.

So, friends was never, ever going to cut it. Roommates - although technically correct - is just this side of too clinical. And let's be clear: strangers don't wake up every morning together, walk to the same class, sit close together in the middle seats, secretly flick a strangers' skirt up in an empty lecture hall and get on their knees and work your mouth onto her pussy and watch the legs of the desks shake when her feet arch into the floor.

"The notes you've got are better than mine," is how Hyeju tries to put things, the next day and every time after that, standing in the doorframe, or at the foot of your bed and looking every bit the disheveled and hopeless mess you imagine she might spread out over the sheets of her own.

-

It gets complicated, which isn't really a surprise.

"You think your roommate is going to be home tonight?" is the question that comes up multiple times - from a revolving door of pretty names and faces. Hyeju has at least one opinion, if not more, on each of them.

"Tell Jinsoul I say hi," she says once, watching you get ready for a date, and you nearly bang your knee on the edge of the bathroom vanity. 

It's one of the more harmless comments she's offered.

Another, backhanded: "if you’re just looking for a blowjob everyday between lunch and our physics lab, let Hyunjin or Heejin or whatever-her-name-is know she's easily my favorite," Hyeju says on your way out one morning, still under her covers.

Or,

Hyeju's texted a simple "uh, Chuu? really??" when you mention, once, how much fun you've been having - and what kind, as you make a round of self-conscious and rambling phone calls the next day that land you with only one prospect for the night - but your roommate's also no longer being your roommate by the end of it, bouncing against your thighs in the bathtub and moaning something about please more and fuck or fucking make me cum; the details escape you a bit.

That's what friends are for, probably.

Still, in the same, bare-bones explanation, friends also aren't for falling asleep on you - or letting you hold her - or fucking you awake in the middle of the night. Friends aren't for pushing down your jeans when the early-morning dew settles on the back patio, or jerking you off in the seat beside yours with a sweatshirt over your lap when a group project is due later and you all should probably work on that and instead get yourselves off and leave the mess of what you're doing half-finished. Friends aren't, probably, for offering to watch you rub your palm up and down your cock the night before next semester's exams when you can barely sit in a single chair and you can't think about molecular biology or neurochemical transcriptions when your whole body aches to do the transcribing. (If you can catch that drift.)

The lists of who are and are not good enough for you goes on and on - the latter longer than the former.

So, there's Choerry, who according to Hyeju is 'straight up, a total slut'. Yeojin, who gets mistaken for your little sister enough times that Hyeju refuses to - in good faith - let you keep sleeping with her. Both Heejin and Gowon are apparently too pretty for you. "Kim-lip?" she asks, in the middle of peeling garlic, "is that one name or two?" And laughs into a bottle of beer, loud, while you're telling her to quit being nosey and watch her fingers with the damn knife.

"You have a problem."

"Why, because I asked a few simple questions? I think anyone would be a little curious with the -" she pauses to wave her fingers - "I'd be remiss to not be interested in the very drama that unfolds literally across the hall."

She waggles her eyebrows.

You look up at the ceiling. God save you, you think. "Hyeju."

("Seriously," Hyeju chimes in one evening, arms around you, and a mouthful of the dinner you'd cooked.

"You need better taste in girls. Don't waste time on anyone too dumb, or who drinks the milk straight from the carton, or doesn't wash her socks with the same load of laundry. Oh, and - no one who chews loudly. No one who can't tell you're going to cum. The worst is someone who doesn't know what you like, trust me on that. And remember the last rule: don't do anything with someone who eats at a really slow pace, it's incredibly depressing."

You rest your chin on her shoulder from the spot behind her. "Duly noted, oh Master of all Knowledge."

She sighs into your arm, but in the next moment, her voice gets a lot softer, her hips fidgeting slightly against you. "I just mean you're the kind of person people would want to sleep with again," she says, before turning to say your name and kiss you again and again as your bodies curl inward.

"I wonder what that means, Hyeju," you say.

"Fuck," Hyeju groans as you slide further into her, pushing her back into the sofa - hands on her shoulders, legs bent on her either side, "don't tease me like this.")

-

The first snowfall of the year is mild, a tiny dusting, nothing that sticks on the pavement in the alley or on the sidewalks - or the lintels - or in Hyeju's hair, but by evening, when the snow picks up and everything goes quiet, Hyeju has changed into flannels and wool socks in anticipation, curled up like a cat at one edge of the window ledge as the world begins to go white. It's enough that you even pull on a thicker sweatshirt, open up a book, and join her.

She turns toward you, quiet.

You've reached a point in the semester where this, the silence, doesn't unsettle you anymore. It's the space you fill up with time in-between, where you can see the contours of her body against the orange lamplight of the space heater, or watch her kick off the top half of the duvet at night as you fight over space in her bed and wonder about the bare skin peeking out from her shorts.

"Feeling bored?" She slides her foot a little closer to yours, almost imperceptibly. "Am I keeping you entertained enough?"

Her lips pull up at the corner. You chuckle.

"Oh, no."

She scoffs and puts her hands on her knees, pushes herself closer to the window sill and bumps her elbow into your shoulder. The bare skin of her neck and shoulders and face is getting a little redder as she cranes it forward. "Okay, if not, do you need someone to entertain you, maybe."

Your mouth twists, fighting a smile.

Hyeju is so close to you, you could kiss her really, really easily and not care how she'd feel about that. It's not a habit, not as often as it used to be, but every once and a while - she starts this game. Every once in a while, Hyeju just starts smiling like that, and leans into you like she's daring you to play along, hard round of chicken until it's clear what the two of you are doing with each other; the minutes pass by, one, then two, and then - maybe she pushes first, her leg on yours, or a kiss to your jaw or a palm on your back as she walks behind you - and then you'd turn and kiss her full on the mouth and pull at her clothes like nothing's holding you back.

She cocks a smile, and says, "why don't you go and call what's her name."

"Because."

You glance out at the cold, gray light outside. If you had a better understanding of any of the workings inside you, you could reach forward and tell her everything that's stopped you.

-

You're supposed to meet the girl-of-the-month at a New Year's party. Hyeju looks disgusted within the first ten seconds of the whole story.

"Heejin dumped you once, like, two months ago? For no reason."

"It wasn't a break-up. We talked about what we did wrong and we're doing better," you say, lifting one finger.

She glares, then, tilts her lips into this unamused purse that you can't take seriously at all when she starts walking back and forth across your living room, hands moving emphatically to the sides as she speaks, like she's in the process of unveiling a brilliant argument and is using both palms to guide your eyes toward the unquestionable logic. "God, you're the worst. You're just her easy fuck and you'll still answer her late night calls, really."

She leaves the rest unsaid - that she's just not that into you.

"I don't tell you which boys or girls you can call up," you try, putting on a boot. "If you'd like, I can. Name off the list, and make sure that the right name leaves my mouth this time."

Hyeju doesn't blush when you glance up, which is the surprising thing. No - her cheeks have grown a little more sullen, and she stares down at her socks in contemplation. You're in the middle of fastening up the lace and getting to your feet, waiting, wondering if Hyeju's going to continue this conversation, when Hyeju takes one small step forward.

And her hand goes out to touch your chin, thumb at your lip, fingers holding it in place - like you'll turn if she lets it go - the sharp shock of the sensation like a short circuit, before her knee comes between yours, and your body tingles, at the root and stem. "Hey," she says, eyes meeting yours. The edge of her nail flicking gently as she drags the curve of her thumb downward.

"Hyeju, please - I need to get going."

When you start walking toward your car, she calls out from the window. Something about how you better have the time of your life, fun for the two of you - it’s only fair.

(You feel, somewhere, a certain strange loss.)

"What, are you going to stay up and wait until I come back? Or am I interrupting your session for the night."

You can barely make it out, the smallest look passing over her face. "Maybe," she says, and then: "god, it's fucking cold."

-

New year's parties have this sort of quality of being simultaneously the most thrilling, exciting prospect on earth and the absolute worst fucking event in the history of the planet - depending on the venue, how egregious the racket is for a gin and tonic, the guests - oh, and the company.

Jinsoul and Choerry are both in attendance; in separate corners and in equal states of undress and intoxication, which seems fine by every present party, who are for the most part busy ogling one or the other in the full spirit of the New Year - as you would too, if the stars are aligned and Heejin hasn't already gone upstairs with half the guestlist, her arm wound with someone else's, as per her recent habit; if you haven't been tossed aside for any of the usual, less forgettable prospects and for something bigger, better and certainly much more enjoyable.

Which, if there were any way to track these things down with math, you'd already be reaching for your pen and notebook, as Hyeju would describe this sensation in a phrase she picked up from some podcast. Inevitable means necessary, or something.

"Good party," says Heejin, throwing back another drink.

"Yep. You said that," and you finish yours in one long draw, hissing through your teeth.

Heejin is a goddamn delight, of course, in all the simplest of ways. When she looks up at you - mouth pink, hair framing her face - she is so clearly and completely aware of what she is, and exactly what the world has in store for her, what it has set aside.

"Do you want to know what happened at the other New Year’s party we went to last year?"

"I - yeah. Hit me. Tell me all about (another date you were on) Heejin, that’s exactly what I’d love, let’s hear it."

She throws her head back and laughs, before starting into an overlong recount of her latest, greatest conquest, you on the outside. This is the thing - this is how a pretty face, with just a hint of a flirt, will make you feel for a beautiful, attractive, vivacious - absolutely shameless, raving sex-crazed lunatic of sorts who, apparently, loves to run around town and make a bunch of your closest friends fall in love and heartbroke-er, with every passing notion of her beauty, her charm - just the tilt of her chin, and some poor fucker is lost, absolutely lost.

 Even she knows it's a bad habit of hers. 

But who doesn't have a weakness? You've got plenty of your own - plenty, Heejin can admit - everyone does, in a way, and so Heejin, the other sloppy drunks milling about the party, and Choerry and Jinsoul all agree - someone like her just happens to have the best kind of weakness - so, so many of them, in fact:

"Can you believe how easily a few words get Jinsoul riled up? Or how it only takes a couple drinks for Choerry to pull up the hem of her skirt, not knowing the effect that'll have?"

And as for the last, and arguably worst kind -

"Hyeju, huh? What a great start to the New Year," is her final word. Heejin reaches across and downs your drink. Her expression turns just shy of grave, a pensive look. "Not your smartest idea, the living-together situation. Who in their right mind would put themselves in such a mess?"

"Thanks for the great advice." You wave her off, irritated.

There's another laugh before Heejin leans her face onto the table.

"Though maybe she's onto something, now that I think of it. Who needs anyone for the New Year?" and it's almost convincing the way her mouth, lined up with the rim of the glass, smirks when she drinks. "Mm. All a matter of taste."

-

The snow is halfway up your calves when you realize you need to find a cab at 11:30 PM on New Year's Eve. (Which, categorically, is the worst time to need to find a cab on New Year’s Eve.)

Or just:

11:36 PM and the nearest bus stop is too far away.

11:41 and the temperature feels like its dropped by fifteen degrees, like you should start wondering what hypothermia symptoms look like and what signs to look out for in yourself, your future wife and your children. You try not to think about why, but you get your phone out and immediately call Hyeju, so you're not sure what you think you're denying.

"No party?" she asks. Her voice is distant and sleep-ridden, but Hyeju's quick to pick up, like always.

"It sucked, I'm trying to find a way home early. Happy New Year."

"Happy New Year." There's a long pause, filled in by the squeak of snow beneath your boots. "Get a kiss?"

"Uh, not yet. In the market, I guess."

Hyeju's low hum isn't reassuring, either. "Well, you're kind of missing your window. Bad time to start looking."

"Says you, and here you are - still up for someone to spend the night with. Look at you," you respond, all this snark in your voice that she clearly hears. There's a long sigh.

"Actually," and Hyeju, much to the confusion of you and possibly the whole world, doesn't respond, and for a few seconds, the line goes completely silent, leaving you hanging.

She breathes once and comes out of her sleep with a yawn.

"I actually," she begins. There's a lot less preamble this time - this tone - and when she speaks again it comes through not nearly as sleepy, "was sorta wondering. Are you on your way home?"

"If I don't freeze to death, yeah."

"Yeah - no, yeah," and that's it. That's the sum total of what makes any difference between where you were a moment ago, and where you are right now, head spinning, fingers buzzing. Hyeju waits and there's the wind on the line, snow settling on your hat and in the corners of your face.

"I - sorry. I probably woke you up. Are you expecting someone else," you say, very small. Your foot drags behind the other. The cars whizz by you faster, passing.

"Hm. You're the only one, I guess," and after that - just static and the muffled sounds of her footsteps on creaky floorboards - or the tick of her ceiling fan? You can't make heads or tails of the rest of the background noise. All those words she said.

You bite your tongue to stop whatever curse words start pouring out from the jumble and cross streets, or the pedestrian underpass; snow gets stuck in your lashes and burns, but your chest is like a molten furnace. You consider telling her right there on the line, everything you're feeling - so hot, it feels like fire, Hyeju, I'm not used to getting heated and desperate and impatient - that even if you're not here now - just imagining your face - the sound of your breathing, it feels like I'm on the cusp.

"Yeah. Sure - good - okay, Hyeju."

"I guess, see you soon?"

"In a bit."

(It takes 33 minutes, trudging through cold and wet. It's all very dramatic, you think, and there's no one there to even watch you suffer for it, or - though you try not to think about that particular line - really, no one at all.)

-

You hear the way your key grinds in the lock - it's been like this, jammed since summer, when you pushed the front door in late at night a little too hard and something came undone and made a sound like a small stone tumbling down the world's deepest well. The hinge squeaks, and there's ice on the stoop, on the doormat, on every nook and corner you can see, all the way up your neck.

And your face, too. You shake off your hat, undo the buttons on your jacket, and pull off your boots before hanging them and all the layers to dry.

You can make out the outline of her profile at the edge of the door frame, right in the kitchen - barefoot, hip pressed against the island, pajamas - the dim lights illuminating the shadow of her head, hair over her face -

- but you don't pause. The next layer. There's nothing left to say. You're too cold for excuses, too smart to use the same ones you'd been taught, like: this is a normal, acceptable circumstance; everything, anything, will be perfectly normal if the two of us act as though that's the case; pretend we're both acting within the norms of reason, within our senses and logical thinking and I won't make myself go out in the cold a second more - won't stand for more than five minutes with your eyes looking like they're waiting.

So you move instead toward the kitchen, where the heating is better and she's already pouring coffee. There's a heat radiating out of the oven, and it smells sweet in there, like cinnamon and warm butter, and you wish you weren't still shaking, blood barely thawed, but there it is - her face, watching you - eyes gleaming as you wrap your hands around a mug, steam rising up - a shiver running up your arms; her knees skirting yours when she takes one step back and there's the cabinet door shut, then open again, and then a palm on your back.

Hyeju presses a cup of the fresh coffee, now warm enough to drink, to your chest, and says, softly. "What the fuck happened out there?"

She starts reaching out to wipe the frost and slush from your face. You let her hand hold you still, eyes wide.

"Oh you know," and her palm stays, even though it's obviously - suddenly - gotten warmer, and wetter too, and the longer she stands there and lets her fingers warm the pale bones of your cheeks, her wrist, the base of your forehead and ears, the more expectant the look on her face grows. "The usual."

Her eyes go as narrow as they ever can. For just a moment. "You're gonna die a slow, pathetic death someday, just for the record."

"Don't forget how this starts," you try, and feel your neck go warm, throat and breath tight. And not even when her shoulders shift, her mouth going smug - just looking at you.

“I mean, don’t you think,” Hyeju says, wagging a finger at you, “that when you suffer through a bad date, the world ought to owe you something?”

"Like what?" you ask.

"Better taste in women - maybe more orgasms; I dunno, a blowjob?" She shrugs. "The general idea is just that someone gets to cum."

You nearly choke on the air in front of you. "Jesus, Hyeju, warn a guy."

“What? I’m trying to commiserate with you,” Hyeju laughs. “Wouldn’t that be funny? Being able to kiss someone you actually, you know, might love you back, and at the same time. Imagine not hooking-up just to forget a shitty day. Sounds wild, right?"

"Utterly deranged."

"So wild."

When Hyeju sighs and gives a long, nonchalant hum, leaning her body closer, pressing up until her waist hits the cabinet top and you're pressed together chest-to-chest, she looks at you and her hips settle, the heel of her foot reaching around your calf.

There's that tingle. Again and again. You're not even trying to not think about what it might mean.

But then, you start, silently and unconsciously, trying to answer the question: why don't you, maybe. Why don't you, actually - Hyeju kisses you, pulls on the loop of your jeans and lets your lips brush the corners of hers and pulls away, suddenly, mumbling and head-turning. And just as abruptly, your nose buries in the space between her neck and her shoulder, where it's all warm. And when she puts her palms on your hips and squeezes and twists her knuckles into the fabric there, it seems she wants your hands up her shirt and under the small of her back.

And her hands - they're fidgety tonight, fingers curled up to keep their nails and the chill away, moving lower - one on your ass, while the other comes forward and begins rubbing circles, a handful of times - enough so you're letting a deep, low breath escape into the space just above her collar, your knee working its way between hers.

"That," Hyeju breathes, lips at your ear, hand reaching down to trace the hard curve of your cock pressing in the spot right between you, and there's that small rush again, familiar now, like you've caught a rhythm and she wants to feel it in its fullness: "is how you can make it up to me. For making me stay up. Worrying about you, god knows why. Waiting."

You're still half-frozen in a way, slowly thawing. "Hyeju, I've been trudging through the consequences of my actions this entire night. What am I about to suffer through now?"

"It's no consequence, honestly."

You squint.

"Just an idea, but," she breathes again; your bodies getting closer, and looking up at you, she grins and reaches down to touch the very root of you, her fingers drumming. You make a sound, and at that she says, her voice coming out thick, low:

"Want me to get you off?"

She squeezes again for good measure, just to be clear. Just a slight curl of fingers that's enough to send a flash of heat and the transient thought: why, why, why is she always wearing those fucking shorts, even in the winter?

Your blood thrums through the pulse at the end of your cock. You shake.

"Alright," is the response you let out.

And at that, Hyeju takes your wrist and leads you upstairs.

"There's that look. Don't worry. We'll find a way," is all she says as your feet walk forward, up step-by-step and higher and further up to her room. "After all, isn't that what we've always done?"

"It's usually whatever will make me stop talking."

Hyeju puts her chin on your shoulder. Her eyes follow the lines and shapes in the patterns of wallpaper as you turn onto her side of the apartment, and even through the wall and behind the doorway, her arm still around you, she pulls at your chin until your faces turn and you both can share each other's heat.

"Who, you and your awful habit of talking out-loud in your head while you work through equations?" and she brings her lips to yours, close and warm.

"Hey. Fuck you," and your voice breaks into an odd, low laughter when she kisses you harder.

"Yeah, I know," she whispers as her hand dives past the band of your boxers, palm sliding easily until she's gripping you fully and letting her fingers rub. She holds you there, in her room, her arm looped through yours, another arm resting at your belly.

And she stops there. She stays like that: holding your gaze.

"Look, Hyeju," you say, unable to not, though this can hardly count for anything; this, what you're about to admit, is nothing new. You swallow. "The thing is - you shouldn't."

"Don't want me to touch you?" she says, finger to your lips.

"Well, that's different. Maybe. Is there - maybe it's not the best thing to ask you right now."

Hyeju considers for a brief moment and tuts under her breath. "Can you at least do me the decency of waiting until I'm done wringing you dry before you say shit like that."

And she moves then, toward the bed.

So:

No. Yes. Maybe. Who knows, you tell yourself. Maybe, but only because you'll do anything if it makes you feel less sick, like a creature standing over its own skeleton - an abandoned shell; a relic, something to be feared and disgusted, as you let her go between your thighs, kneel beside the bed.

"I mean - since when - have you felt," is just as far as you're allowed to go before Hyeju presses her nose into you and pulls you out of the thin, cold fabric - palm, thumb, all those slender fingers swiping over your head - and now there's just the smell of her room and the shock, the buzz that runs down your spine and settles somewhere, somewhere inside the small and desperate movement of your hips and the tension building just below.

And god, fuck, Hyeju’s lips.

These soft, wet, pouty fucking things that could suck you straight off if you were feeling any less stupid or inexperienced or sentimental - if she wasn't solely intent on teasing it out of you first; a slow drag of the tongue up the underside; the tip of it poking, tracing the rim, like she's figured you out, just where to lead you. She's ready to smoke you out - always - until you're not taking in a breath every ten seconds but starting to close your eyes to the overwhelming, needling pleasure, too sharp, the way she knows you like best.

"Now you're finally - mm - starting to sound hot," and that smirk comes back to the corner of her mouth, teasing the sensitive belly of your cock and tracing her tongue everywhere. "With the voice and -"

You're losing track, her thumb and fingers circling the whole length of you - just, one after the other - mouth a hair-breadth away, her breath hovering like a promise.

"- that face."

"Don't, fucking tease me-"

The sound of your cock going in is like nothing else.

Wet and filthy in all the right ways.

Just the suction in her throat has your eyes nearly roll back into your head - Hyeju's gaze calmly watching the terrible sort of helplessness that washes over you like this: her lips wrapped around, bobbing - her hair falling into the wet mess of her mouth and sticking there. Hyeju likes being a little sloppy, likes feeling that spark run up the length of her tongue when she slides. It's the wet and the heat that gives everything away.

"I don't have much of a choice -" her jaw and chin is smudged when she pulls back off of your cock, mouth glossy and glistening, "and honestly, wouldn't it be a better use of our time, or my talents if I actually do that thing?"

“Which is?”

She looks up for a bit and sighs, the flush blooming pink to the tip of her ears and into the rounds of her cheeks and all across her neck. "Since, as far as I can see, what you really like - is, oh I'm just spit-balling here," and she stops just to bite her tongue and look into your eyes, "it's letting the girls take care of you? Isn't that right?"

You want to tell her, no, not always, that it's not as though you enjoy giving control completely - that that would be completely and unarguably, the opposite of true -

That most of the time you love it when the person you're with is a little bossy, a little crazy for you. You know some guys really get off on a strong woman and maybe, maybe if a girl's pretty and dressed up, and - sure - a little wet, but that's hardly -

“You know I’m right,” she says, a flicker of mischief skittering across her features. “These walls are paper thin.”

You want to tell her, perhaps remind her, that she likes someone in charge just as much as you do - to be taken care of, told what to do - to have a hand curled up around her throat and the other at her tits while a guy fucks her the right way and takes the reigns when she needs. So who are you, when it comes to knowing her better? And who, really, are you fooling?

But before you can get any words in: Hyeju dips, lips parting where the head of your cock throbs, and then disappears; and the hot wet warmth, enveloping all around your shaft and back; the curve of her throat contracting.

You moan - a lot, and louder this time - into the whole feeling. The way her fingers work the distance from the base, twisting and twisting and twisting into the pout of her lips; or how the sound is like nothing - a whimpering, messy sound - almost a whine and definitely not a slurp as your cock sinks further and further, until it's all one big, heavy throb.

And it's like Hyeju can read your thoughts, the visual you have of her lips screwed tight around your shaft - cum leaking from the corners, and her eyes scrunched up tight, as she looks up to watch your face unravel - this perfect image of her taking you, all of you, swallowing each drop as your hips start rutting up into her and - and - and.

Or else she gets impatient, because then Hyeju gives one long pull off the tip of your cock - saliva mixed in the precum there, and that shiny string of fluid hanging, caught in the middle between your bodies - a disgusting and irresistible sight. Her jaw slack, lips swollen and full, and her mouth gone wide open, wanting.

"Fuck - that's good. Don't stop," you start to whimper, desperate, at the sight, the smell. Her hot breath coming quick over the red wanting wetness left behind - then touched by the cold air - fuck -

She slaps your cock to the corner of her lips as she speaks.

"Can you believe what's going on down here?"

"God, can you -"

"And to think most guys wanna jump straight in. That or fuck a load out between my tits."

"Hyeju, shit, come on -"

She kisses the soft tip, right where it’s most sensitive, rolls it along her lip. Then, back down the length of your shaft where she's generous with her mouth inch after inch - lapping, licking, laving - and Hyeju begins working her way down and downward, nestling in at the edge of the bed and between your thighs.

Your eyes blow up the first time she dips low enough to put your balls in her mouth. 

“Mmhm,” she hums.

It’s killing you and she knows it; it’s killing you and she can feel the pre-cum leaking from your slit - the thumb she has moored there, keeping everything right where she wants it, running circles up the length with such little intention - she could bring you to the end just like this. 

"Am I supposed to believe it?” she asks out from beneath the shadow of your cock, looking up at you with her eyes all wide and brilliant - pupils dark as sin. “That not a single one of those girls ever did you proper?"

You curse under your breath. Hyeju seems amused, at least, like she can't help but love doing that to you, which is almost worse and honestly the sexiest thing a girl can be. You groan - wanton, raw and desperate and feeling exactly what she wants you to feel when her nails drag along the dip of your hip bones.

"Did they not leave you fucked-up the right way?"

Her wrist flicks out these twists and turns, making your spine bend to her control. Like even when you're sure to be bundling her hair in your fingers and fucking the whole length of your cock down her throat, all of this is the worst kind of power-trip for her - not the other way around.

Her tongue runs through the tangle of your balls, slowly, lasciviously, as though the plan is to memorize and map every detail. 

And the worst part is, how much it's making you desperate for the warmth of her mouth - where she'll run her tongue up and down and over and around and inside - before sucking you off nice and slow.

"Or maybe," she laughs; another flick to the top and then suddenly her hand goes faster and the fist pumping the rest of you tightens. "They left you so needy you're resorting to having the bestie suck you off so that you won't be desperate the next time you date. Oh my god-" 

Hyeju breaks into this fit of laughter, and you're nearly cross-eyed at the feeling of your entire existence - not just your cock - so wholly held within her mercy, and her pity, and you're breathing so shallow now you'd think this is the real reason people have died and will die - this exact moment where you're choking and stuttering at the edges, so very close to cumming and going absolutely bonkers with how good Hyeju is with her hands, her tongue, her mouth - everything - how much she's wrecking you, and your jaw drops, wide open, her name dripping like molasses off your lower lip.

"Are you going to cum?" she asks, curiously. All as if she can't see you nodding, collapsing under pressure, and then and there: "should we make it official?"

Her nose tickles the seam of your balls. And your toes begin to curl and uncurl - all this anticipatory, coiling pleasure burning from her throat, shooting from the pit of your stomach; the tightening spiral, twinging and stretching every nerve - as her lips enclose around the end of your cock, softly.

And oh, just excruciatingly slowly.

You watch the irresistible shape of her mouth travel down until her throat feels so incredibly, beautifully, and unbelievably tight, and then, just like that - Hyeju starts fucking herself onto you; pushing forward and down the full, rigid length of you, hard and fast - each time hitting deeper inside her - all that sticky, messy, wet squelching.

"Unh-unh, yeah. Unh. Mm-!" you say, or moan, or some animal version of that, maybe, it’s incoherent.

But regardless:

It's messy and your hands scramble for purchase in the sheets of her bed when you feel that snap, the tightening of a trigger; when your balls roll up and it builds, and builds, and it comes faster - harder and -

"Hyeju," you pant, and it sounds so, so filthy. "I'm gonna cum, if you - gonna cum-"

Hyeju pulls you free from her lips, quite possibly at the most final of final moments, to rub the base up and down, just right, between her fingers. Your cock is resting right on her cheek when it all happens. When she squeezes her fingers around your balls just enough to hear you wheeze and make a sound no sane man should have the right to. And fuck, you're cumming all over her face - or just one side of it - which is already just -

Okay, fuck.

She makes a startled sound and her fist closes tightly around your shaft when you pump another fresh load of white up onto her eyebrow.

"I'm, ah-shit," your mouth moves faster than the blood in your veins - and now the shame - oh god, the humiliation, it's pulsing right behind you. "Hyeju," you apologize.

Only, Hyeju has no interest in any of it. She doesn't seem offended or disappointed in proportion to how you're ruining her pretty face: "no, just do it, cum wherever you fucking like."

Which isn't what you're expecting at all, because Hyeju makes no effort to close her lips, let alone avoid any of it; nor is she making a fuss about the sticky mess in her hair, her mouth, nor as another stream of cum throbs from your cock, all tangled up in the long dark eyelashes that sweep down across her cheek.

It’s fucking filthy: you're cumming all over her and she's just kneeling there, telling you, "good boy."

See, she pushes through it, languidly - all those filthy sounds, and those watery little tears gathering at the edge of her eye and all of that, mixing up together until you're rolling your head back with your orgasm, shuddering, feeling weak - drained dry -

Except,

Hyeju's pushing a finger to your chest, kneeling up tall from the side of the bed. She turns her body toward the center of the bed and wipes a bit of the cum on her knuckles into the sheets. Here you feel like you've done something terrible or at least regrettable, like that last round at the bar when you have a test the next morning; a dick move, all of the sort that requires apology.

"You gotta give me a minute, if you're thinking about hopping on."

"Hmm. Sounds like a lot to ask."

"Wait," you grab her arm. Hyeju grins and there's nothing stopping the shake of your knees now, that weakness between your thighs: "let me get you a drink."

"Or."

"Or?"

Her tongue peeks out, running along her upper lip. Her eyes drop again, hands dipping below, beneath the hem of her shorts and oh. She slips a hand past her bra. The whole outline of it. And you -

"Mm, I could show you what that actually means." She lowers her chest, her breasts, and a lot of skin to the mattress while keeping your cock firmly in her hands. "That look tells me you wanna stick around a bit. Stay up past New Year’s, you know?"

You're almost unable to parse her words, there is so much to look at: the jutting curve of her chest, cleavage pressing into the mattress as her body settles between your knees. A soft chuckle; a sigh: "you are seriously the best lay, no-one else can get hard the minute after they just fucking exploded all over me-"

"Fuck, watch it," you hiss, because there's oversensitivity - and then there's Hyeju's mouth on the line of your cock, polishing you clean.

And it’s not that she isn’t trying to prove a point. Or that she's not trying to tease - that's an inherent quality of her character: a naturally dominant position with a high appetite for your lust. That much, Hyeju gets from you, whether you've got your head down between her thighs or the other way, too, so that her neck is arched around and her ass pushed up high in the air, legs open, and if she had any idea you would spend the next twenty minutes or more just going down on her, licking into her creaming cunt while two fingers work over her aching clit, then really, Hyeju would only encourage it - maybe get on top, force you to gag - and so you don't know where it comes from - how and why you want nothing more than to drive your fingers inside her and work her until she's a wet, squelching mess, not when this was always Hyeju's role of being the aggressor; and yes, sure, even the aggressed.

Surely not because you came so hard, still somewhat shivering with the remnants of a rather abrupt, painful, sudden and all-consuming orgasm.

"We're not doing anything else," she says, lips pulled up into a smirk right at the crown of your cockhead. But before you can respond she pushes a hot open kiss, and goes lower. She presses the flat of her tongue to the seam, just below the head. Licks a line right up to the tip and finishes with a tender flick that sends you fisting the bedspread in your fingers and leaning back as your mind begins to disintegrate -

"I'm not going to ride you yet, or going to get my hips in your hands so you can fuck my pussy real hard until I cry and pass out. Nothing of that sort is gonna happen." She licks one long drag of her tongue. Then, the other way. "I want to make this very clear: this isn't some huge favor - and if you want it - want it so bad, you can stay there and I'm going to do everything for you. We will get there - together," and with her voice shaking as she brings the wet, glistening skin of your cock just inside her mouth, she looks up. "We'll get each other off, just like this," and it's the deep, dark, throated moan that makes your thighs and all the nerves in between stiffen and buck when she swallows you again.

Hyeju's hands tug, pull her whole body closer still as it slowly bends, curves - her ass raised, her stomach lying on the bed. Her mouth takes you another few inches, until the tip of her nose is barely visible, but when she pauses to lick the cum still left over - the cum that's starting to leak out again - to breathe through it, then squeeze her palm and bob her mouth down, take another inch, until the sides are stuffed and emptying out again, that's when she finally has something to say: "got anything left? I'm a little starved."

"I. Christ, yes-" you whine, which doesn't help your case at all: the image, the image of you lying flat - back with Hyeju's head tucked between your knees, her hand pulling out your cock.

Sloppy, slimy-wet.

She presses an innocent, not-at-all-innocent kiss right to your tip, puckering - 

"You know what I did learn in that genetics class?" she muses, tongue flicking over her lips. Hyeju's about ready for a second helping - you're losing it. "When I first saw that DNA diagram - the double helix and all those little base pairs, and everything - it made me think of your cock. Your cock and me. Specifically our DNA. Did you know-"

She presses her palm over the head and rolls it - teases and strokes her palm - her knuckles - her fist - the whole nine. "When I hold your big fucking cock, mm, and just get it right - up in here, rubbing all along my walls - so deep, it gets me in my fucking ribs, makes me choke like I never been choked before, ah-mm," and it's this thought sliding toward the front of your mind, this perfect picture: Hyeju, getting fucked hard and open and stuffed full and stuffed good and stupid; you’ve got more than a few inches on her, can make her feel small and delicate; you know how to do her right.

But here you have Hyeju stroking the shaft - holding her hand tightly up near the head, rolling and twisting and sliding down and pushing her whole body right into the side of your legs: the soft, solid length, warm flesh and curves everywhere pressing into you.

You sit back, and just watch Hyeju with her eyes cool and composed, like half of her fucking face isn't streaked with your cum, mouth wrapped and looking fucking satisfied to be a total, gorgeous mess. She makes a dramatic display of kissing the tip again, just before telling you words you probably dreamt up at some point - either sleep deprived, or, during three AM jackoff, fantasizing. "Sometimes, just from riding your cock, I can't sit up straight."

"Fuck," and you feel your whole body run rigid, because apparently that's something you’ve been aching to hear.

You're covering her mouth again. White streaking onto her lips - where she's catching it in the well beneath her tongue and letting it spill out of the corner of her mouth. Into the crook of your thumb, which catches a drip here and there and rubs it down the length - down the curve - and pushes it back between Hyeju's pert little pout.

"Doesn't count, mister, just more pre-cum," she says, all with the audacity of a wink and smile; her words are a little garbled around the head of your cock between her teeth. And when you nod and realize just how painfully your jaw hurts, your throat becomes tight and raw, a knot pulling the underside from the center. Hyeju slides her lips lower, lower down, to the hilt and stays there, just like that - one hand holding down the flat of your belly to keep your hips still, her chin hanging - bobbing-as she feels every pulse, every twitching shift. You curl one hand around the side of her face, over the sharp edge of her jaw; rub a thumb into the delicate skin of her throat.

She shifts. You start to tell her what you like: how hot the rush comes when a girl puts her tongue against the slit at the very tip, and licks at the precum in nice, quick circles, soft and fluttering. And how her fingers shouldn't hesitate either, Hyeju's not even struggling to give it to you - god - just giving and -

She jerks her head up, swallowing down her next breath like it's one of her last. "I'm serious, if you're going to fuck a hole, start with my mouth - we can move onto everything else after."

"You're ridiculous -"

She meets her lips to your head, kissing once. Again. Kissing every inch, letting her mouth wrap around and then just - staying, just - staying like that and humming, with you, enjoying the fullness, the smell of you, the taste, the shape, just the weight and size and you.

There is spit fucking everywhere.

And if it's not clear what you're supposed to be doing - her fingers weave through yours, squeezing hard at the wrist and you can imagine: pulling her forward by her hair and holding her down while she chokes on your cock. "Fuck, Hyeju," you say, and your voice comes out way shakier than you'd like, "when, how did it get like this, huh? You always - always did, shit, always want your mouth filled."

"Never figured you to be someone who'd get turned on watching their friend sucking their cock like this."

"Doesn't everybody love the sight of their cock in a pretty girl's mouth?

"You were really convinced they weren't lining up behind you? Or anyone in the queue who can't keep their eyes off of this thing. Tell me, and try not to lie, try not to bullshit this one out: how many girls have you come home and fucked and creamed their brains out - then asked for the sloppiest, most -"

"Honestly."

"- Filthiest, nasty, ball-busting, gut-wrenching blowjob ever to make them think - to make them really start wondering what the hell it was you did - like it's gotta be something that leaves them so ruined, they can't ever not compare - can't ever not compare this moment, right here. Ever. When you give them the hardest fucking of their life, compared to any other guy - can't not, because no-one, literally no-one's cock can fuck like you do-"

"Fuck-"

"Any harder. Come on, seriously, tell me it isn't true. Come on."

Her voice - her fucking words, the tone she uses and how her words roll: honey-warm and soaking with sweet, thick degradation - she talks like sex, and that's exactly what gets you harder, like it’s something else; like it’s nothing, like it’s less, so much worse - you feel this guilty-dirty heat pool at your tailbone and push down the hard press of you throbbing all the way to her nose. And Hyeju smiles as much as she's capable around the fat, round stretch, humming around the warm taste of you, before opening wide and sinking her throat on it.

There's nothing like it.

You've got two fists in her hair; she's so tight and wet around every god-damn inch. Her cheeks flush - hot to the touch; her tongue laving in slow, long drags, slicking your shaft nice and warm until you're balls-deep and pushing her further: a small shift to the hips, a push here, a harder, faster pull, and Hyeju's feet behind her go curling like an angry cat, wanting the tug.

A long, satisfied breath slips from the hollows of her throat.

There are tears threatening, thickening her lashes, and though she doesn't choke - you're just afraid. Every sound that she pulls out, her eyes blinking up to you as if it's only natural to love getting used by her friend's cock, like the very premise of it - swallowing down the very shape of you, dragged over her tongue and brushing cum into the back of her throat - is something she can’t go without.

But this is nothing compared to the noises from where her lips are pressed tight around you, where you're hearing and even feeling:

That gluck, gluck - where her chest spasms just the slightest when her nose gets nuzzled right into your belly and you remember how much she likes to hear you talk dirty, how fucking wet it gets her. The heavy, deep breaths, gasps; the strangled moans when your hips just buck - the heat and the thrill, and this is better than every other time because there's just something in this moment -

"I'm not gonna come again, not like this. Not in your mouth. You can’t-"

But Hyeju refuses to hear a word; just pumps your shaft faster, feeling it's familiar hardness grow and throb and ache and retch, all her effort paying off: you're slick with precum and spit, hard and straining, the whole shaft begging for release - all because of her. And Hyeju won't stop, she pushes her cheek onto your thigh and then taps a hand there to pull your hips. The motion drives your cock further still inside her. Until it’s bathed in her spit, your cum, all this mess.

Until it's reaching, choking her, and the muffled sounds she's making are filthy and wet and so incredulously hot.

But god. Hyeju has something of a temper and a habit, too: with those big beautiful eyes and the perfect plump of her pouting lips, her tits swelling up around, when your grip slips on her shoulder, and her mouth goes tighter - how the pleasure begins to make you unbearably cruel and you push her away from you, only for a second -

She doesn't wait or seem to care; Hyeju follows the cock with her whole head and whimpers so hotly in her throat when it plops right back on her tongue. "That's more - more like - fuck, oh, there we go," her nose and fingers prodding.

You groan through a high, strangled whimper, a helpless shiver that turns into an uncontrollable roll of the hips - you can't believe it: she's already so thoroughly debauched and defaced; just fucking painted with it. Your cum dripping off her chin and rolling down her neck.

"Fuck - gonna make me - ah, Jesus -"

When Hyeju seems to have reached her fill, the feeling, you're cumming - pumping the length of your shaft. And the moment she feels you twitch and throb and that first hot spill lands in the bend of her mouth, it's as if she understands and holds herself tight - her legs going stock-still while your eyes blow up behind her, your cock spewing another and then another thick, milky load into her mouth, over her tongue: all along the topography of her throat - sticky cum landing in every ridge and valley -

Hyeju catches as much as she can. What little she can. You cum and pump and gush so much that when you're finally finished - done - every last drop spent and given - your cock throbs soft between her fingers; her chin is a complete and utter mess and her chest heaves with the sound of her catching her own breath. Hyeju groans softly and just swishes the load around in her mouth for a bit as if wanting to remember its feel and weight before lifting her eyes to look into yours. You can just barely see the color.

"Jesus, Hyeju-"

The entire bit of it, slick and shining-wet. With a small moan, a sound from the back of her throat: one swallow and the cum is gone, disappeared, vanished. She smiles like she didn't just ruin your entire goddamn life and, with her body limp and exhausted beside you - her gentle hand rubbing a flat stroke over your thigh before yours slips up to meet her chin.

"You," you curse and roll your eyes, catching the mess at the edge of her jaw, the very little left in the corners of her lips. You feed the cum over her bottom lip - her chin, her throat - watching your friend: Hyeju's throat, bobbing. "Really didn't have to," you start, but you realize just how useless a point it is to make.

She's smiling and biting and showing you what's left between the tips of her canines. "Do you always do this to the people who suck you off?"

"That's an awful habit. A pretty girl's lips aren't meant to get that messy," you reply.

"Oh." She frowns. "Well, I do a lot of things I shouldn't."

"God, seriously," and you think there's no greater hell, no sweeter pain than whatever's lingering in these little aftershocks - this fizzling and dying sort of pain, where the body is buzzed with all you're aching for. It's impossible to stop this train of thoughts, is the fucking feeling of her-

But just then, Hyeju rises to her knees, a new spark in her eyes, as she grabs ahold of your wrist and tugs you off the sheets, a few inches closer.

"And you," she purrs as she drags the palm of your hand across her neck and collarbone, collecting what remains and making the perfect image, "well - you are going to help clean me up, like you said before." She sits tall; the arch of her spine is pronounced - her back, so, very, slightly tapering, to where your hand slips right off the last of it: the wide flare of her hips. "Now isn't that the gentleman's thing to do?" she asks.

"Of course." You sigh, resigned and in desperate need of water. "Of course," you add and smirk a little and slip your hand lower, toward where her skin is getting hot, and her body, "let's get you clean."

"Mm." She's already grinning. "You know what wasn't in those textbooks?"

"Oh, I can only guess." You bite your cheek and start to lower yourself back. "Give it a try."

Hyeju drags you by the wrist toward the hall, the bathroom, ostensibly the shower -

"There's no way in hell you don't want to put a baby in me, like, right fucking now."

"Is that what we're doing?"

Hyeju makes a face like you're stupid - she might've grabbed a towel on the way out. She wipes her chin a little while walking - the corner of her mouth where, well - where it looks like a little dribble has somehow remained. "No. But you’re going to fuck me like it is."

-

(There's got so much on her mind. 

The door of the shower rattling in its frame as she struggles standing up against it. Getting fucked so fast and full, the feeling of both your hands cupped beneath the weight of her breasts. It's not the fact of where you are and your situation, per say - more about the immediate, the imperative nature. About fucking you. She was already feeling herself like, leaking the moment the door shut, so all that waiting, all that patience, really - and it's what drove her insane when you were, well: like that, after she put her mouth around your cock, made a right and proper mess of herself, and sucked you off.

Though there's less on her mind, clearly, when she cums all over your cock.

She's crying with her tits up onto the glass, your palm holding her ribs. Your cum-slick cock working itself hard again as it slips, back and forth, as you're fucking her open, spread apart. It's your finger in her asshole. That's what's on her mind then. How the press of your knuckle lights her entire fucking spine on fire - how the other hand finds her clit in all this, too, when you're no longer supporting the both of you but rather Hyeju is folding on her bent knee and trusting, on shaking and shivering, raw nerves, that you're not going to collapse.

"Fucking. God, please-"

There's the harsh slap of flesh - skin on wet skin, your palms against the sides of her ass and the curve of the breast. But otherwise - it's you, sighing - soft and gentle, like you can't get over the feel of her. "Hyeju, oh-fucking, god, fucking," is what you're saying, and it doesn't end up really mattering which one of you came last because she can feel you twitching, squelching in and out with how badly you're wanting to explode inside, but also you can feel her cunt absolutely begging, this fucking fluttering and clamping down on every thrust and the moment you manage to grind this angle she loses her ability to speak properly because you're not just, like - fucking her-

Just, absolutely, completely pounding her pussy, stretching her insides, dragging and sliding along the walls; each rough rub and thrust makes her knees quiver until her body is trembling and falling. But mostly her voice, the sharp gasp that shakes into her, how her nails are scraping the walls of the shower stall and she's saying - telling, crying and asking and wondering and pleading - just utterly astounded:

"Amazing," she huffs, breathes coming out cloudy and true onto the pane of glass, "you - it’s, fucking amazing.")

-

“And I am… Ironman.”

Your eyes flicker awake, hazy, as Tony Stark snaps his fingers, killing himself alongside Thanos’ army in the process.

The TV's long been running on background noise, though not as ambient. Its characters now bickering between the rubble and ruins and being picked up for the end credits. In the dark of the screen, you see Hyeju had nodded off and slumped over the side of your body. A new year means new beginning means resolutions and diets and gym routines -

Maybe no sooner than the sun can come up, apparently.

You lean over to grab your phone from the table: 4:14 A.M.

There's a lot of things you want to say, even more you want to hear, but your mind has begun to settle a bit - a lazy and dreamy thing that fills you with this sort of, tired kind of - not sad, or empty - no, of course not. That's hardly fitting; not after tonight. You want to wrap this in an idealistic sort of sentiment - maybe hold Hyeju close and let the hour carry you and the comfort be enough to forgive whatever there is to miss: like the fact, it's still really dark, so dark even outside. The moon reflecting off the sheet of snow on the street. And not even a distant dog barking, or car driving by or someone playing loud music in the early hours of the new year.

As the film drifts off into another set of commercials, you slip into an easy sleep that feels effortless. Your head drops, landing on the cushion by the arm of the couch, where Hyeju's hand begins to slip mindlessly across your belly, tickling your waist and causing you to slightly squirm - things are cooling down, but still a little agitated.

"Don't tell me you're waking me up, cause I just -"

She kisses the pulse at your throat and answers, mumbling half-words into the spot below your ear. "A kiss for a new year."

And maybe the world doesn't owe you anything at all.

Maybe it just gave you more than enough.

#hyeju smut #loona smut #loona hyeju smut #loossemble smut #loossemble hyeju smut #olivia hye smut #loona olivia hye smut #kpop smut #male reader #capslocked kinkvember

[unalivejournal]

imagine a tumblr simulator set in the velvet goldmine universe lmfao

2 notes

🎹 wilderatz Follow

DNI if you still support br*an sl*de after the shooting hoax. what he did was fucking unacceptable and pathetic. the panic and heartbreak on the dashboard that day was absolutely traumatizing. and the fact that it was all for cheap publicity makes it even more despicable. if you HAVE to listen to his records the least you could do is buy them secondhand

#so glad curt never cut that record with him

186 notes

⭐️ glittersisgay

i got new boots! seeing the flaming creatures tonight :-) life is good

4 notes

👨🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏼 wildemons Follow

sorry but the sladewild narrative is CRAAAAZY. like imagine you start off as a nobody performer and becoming enthralled by this rockstar after he shows up your act and you end up becoming famous by being inspired by his stage presence AND YOU BECOME FAMOUS ENOIGH TO GO TO AMERICA AND MEET THIS GUY AND YOUR LABELS START FABRICATING A RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN U TWO TO GENERATE PUBLICITY FOR YOUR NEW ALBUM BUT THEN YOU ACTUALLY FALL IN LOVE AND HAVE TO KEEP IT A SECRET BUT THEN THE PAPARAZZI FINDS OUT AND YOU HAVE A HUGE FALLING OUT BUT THEN A FEW WEEKS LATER YOURE SPOTTED IN THE CROWD AT THE DEATH TO GLITTER SHOW

♻️ 🦷 roxytunes Follow

lmfao WHAT are you talking about. swear to god i’m sick of you invasive freaks trying to make things up about real peoples lives. the part about the labels trying to market slade and wild as a couple isn’t even true. yes they were heavily publicized as close friends but they never admitted to being in a relationship. also receipts on brian being at the death to glitter show???? stop spreading false information

♻️ 👨🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏼 wildemons Follow

anyways watch out for my new sladewild maxwell demon tour era fic that will be published in my next zine 💋

#my mutual was literally next to him in the crowd.

58 notes

🪩 girlboydragdemon

at the Sombrero Club with the glamrocktuals YAYYYY

♻️ 🪩 girlboydragdemon

Hangover.

#we may have made. mistakes. #also we think brian slade’s former manager was in the booth behind us

11 notes

🌟 venusinpurrs

♻️ 🎸 balladofmaxwellsemen Follow

WHY ARE WE PITTING THREE BAD BITCHES AGAINST EACH OTHER

♻️🌟 venusinpurrs

better question WHY ARE VENUS IN FURS LOSING GUYS CMON ITS OBVIOUSLY THE RATS

♻️🌟 venusinpurrs

do you people hate dykes

244 notes

💋 jack-fairy-fan51 Follow

Anyone else feel like this Tommy stone guy showed up out of nowhere?

6 notes

❇️ 20th-cxntury-bxy

Well…. it’s been a fun time on the road with Malcolm & co. (@/theflamingcreatures) but in the months following the hoax and the death to glitter tribute I’ve been feeling more and more inclined to move on. idk. i know there’s still an active tumblr community but in the real life scene it feels like everyone’s just…. given up. I’ll be starting a new job soon and won’t have a lot of time to post. Might delete this blog in the near future. remember to support local shows and keep being yourself

#a.journal

0 notes

👨‍🎤 lipstickkissedelbowglove

word on the street is that mandy slade divorced brian???? lmao get his ass

♻️👨‍🎤 lipstickkissedelbowglove

[#finally i have a chance with her]

you’re funny if you think any of us on this site have an inkling of a chance with her

2,658 notes

🎸 balladofmaxwellsemen Follow

Just found this on the sidewalk. does anyone know what it is?

7 notes

[moonlightpetalz6]

Kinktober Day 5 (Somnophilia)

Character: Belphegor (Obey Me) x Reader

Reader: Fem Reader

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, Smut, pet names, harsh language, unprotected sex, sleeping reader, exhibitionism

Somnophilia: A sexual interest in engaging in sexual activity with a sleeping person.

Wc: 1,741

A/N: Here's day 5 of my Kinktober series! (Now I have to work on getting days 6&7 finished up and actually posted by tomorrow so I can actually be caught up) I did go for a more submissive yandere Belphie with this one, but it was fun! I tried to write down all the warnings, so I apologize if I missed any!

______________________________________________________________

Belphegor sat on his bed, squeezing his pillow close to his chest as he glared down at your sleeping form with a pout on his face. "How dare you sleep after what you did." He growls childishly while poking your cheek watching as you give no reaction. Just moments ago, the two of you had been snuggled together deep in sleep, dreaming away. However, during your dream, your body starts to push back against your boyfriend, causing him to wake up with an unpleasant issue. A slight blush graces his face as the demon carefully palms at his pants, trying to discreetly take care of his growing erection. His eyes stay focused on your sleeping form, smiling as he watches your face scrunch up as you turn your head away from him. "Tch. don't look away from me, baby." He mumbled carefully, moving your face back in his direction.

He lets out a hum as he tilts his head, admiring your cute face. "…I don't think this will be enough." He muttered while leaning down to kiss your lips. He hummed loving the taste of your lips as he felt his erection grow just from a simple kiss. "Fuck Y/n…look how filthy you make me." He cursed while pulling away from the kiss a bit of saliva falling from the corner of your mouth. Belphegor looks down at you, his eyes darkened with lust as he slowly licks his lips, his mind running wild with all the things he could do to your sleeping body. Of course, this wasn't the first time he's done something to you in your sleep, as the two of you talked about it at the start of your relationship with you consenting.

"Baby, you're so cute and sexy like this…it makes me really want to take advantage of you." He growls the last part as he positions himself on top of you. He slides a leg between yours, carefully spreading them as he grinds his bulge against your pussy. A shaky breath escapes his lips as pink dusts his cheeks. "Fuck baby, doesn't this feel good?" He mumbles, eyes focusing on your breasts. You liked to fall asleep in a tank top and underwear, always complaining that the room got too hot. Your boyfriend hums as he leans down, tenderly kissing both mounds, watching as your nipples slowly poke through the thin fabric. "That's right baby…your body is so obedient for me even when you're having such sweet dreams." He praises you while his hands caress up and down your sides.

Heavy pants slip from his mouth as he picks up the pace, grinding even harder into you, his body wanting more. As desire starts clouding the demon's mind, a sudden movement catches his attention, causing his eyes to quickly dart to the left. Having been too quick to let lust take over his mind, Belphegor completely forgot one important thing about the room he was in. There across the room lay Beelzebub's sleeping figure, his face turned towards your shared bed, eyes still closed. Cursing for forgetting his twin's presence, Belphegor debates whether he should continue his filthy act, his pace slowing down as he contemplates. "Mm…Belphie…" Your sudden moan causes his eyes to widen as he looks up at your sleeping face, the tiniest shade of pink on your cheeks.

"Sweetheart, are you dreaming of me?" He lightly breathes, his hips moving on their own, this time more aggressive as his pupils feel like they're shaping into hearts as he slides his tongue down your neck, hands groping at your chest desperately as he leaves wet sloppy kisses all over your exposed skin. Your body twitches as you wiggle in your sleep, tiny noises leaving your lips, driving him insane as he goes to lift your tank top just above your breasts, watching them pop free with a small bounce. He whimpers at the sight. “Y/n…Y/n!” He whines, his erection painfully throbbing. "It's not enough…I need to be inside your beautiful pussy." he cries, a hand trailing down your stomach before tearing past your panties, his fingers sliding up and down your wet folds. "So wet just for me…so good my sleeping princess~" He purrs, feeling a sense of pride from the fact you were this wet just from him grinding against you.

His eyes travel back to his twin, who still slept peacefully. Belphegor hummed, leaning down to trap one of your breasts between his lips as he let out a soft moan, his eyes glued to his brother's form. When you became his, Belphegor made sure that none of his brothers ever got the chance to take you sexually. However, the thought of his twin waking up to catch him sinfully corrupting your body as you slept turned the avatar of sloth on more than you could imagine. He inserts a finger inside your needy hole, listening as a small gasp escapes your throat, causing him to whine as he pulls away with a small pop. "That's right, sweetheart, it feels good, doesn't it? Let your body tell me how good I'm doing~" He sang, lovestruck with you as he started to suck on the other mound, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud as he pumped another finger.

He wanted to be inside you so bad it was killing him with each second of tasting your sweet flesh in his mouth and feeling your juices leaking down his two fingers as he roughly pumped them deep inside you. "I wonder what Beel would do if he woke up right now…" He whispered, giving the bud one more flick of his tongue before sliding down to your mess, his tongue sliding along his lips as he let out a desperate whine. "You smell so good, baby…" He presses a kiss against your clit, watching as it twitches. Glancing at his twin again, he gives a lazy smirk before stuffing his face with your sweet juices, multiple whimpers and moans leaving his lips, sending vibrations against your pussy. "So good. Sosososo soooooooo good!” He cries, tears forming as his love for you feels too much.

"You're so obedient for me Y/n…and only me." He growls the last part obsessively as he glares over at his brother. 'Wake up and see how i'm treating her Beel. See how I'm violating the girl we love.' He mentally pleas eyes rolling to the back of his head as he slides his tongue inside you, a shiver going down his spine as he slowly pushes his pants down, whimpering when his hard cock smacked against his stomach, the cool air hitting the flushed skin as he slides a hand up and down giving it a few good pumps. “My Y/n is so perfect…I want to ruin you." He growls, feeling your walls tighten around his tongue as you reach your first orgasm of the night, your sleeping body jolting from the pleasure as your face scrunches.

"That's right baby, such a good sleepy girl~" Belphegor whined, giving your sensitive pussy a few more licks followed by tender kisses as he sat up straight. "Don't worry baby… I'm almost at my limit." He whispers before tossing your legs over his shoulder as he positions himself between your thighs, his cock twitching with anticipation. With a quiet hiss, he pushes himself inside your wet walls, practically cumming on the spot as he tosses his head back, a fucked-out grin stretching across his face as he bites his lip, eyes wide with joy and pleasure, a dark blush gracing his pale skin. He lets out loud pathetic whines as he thrusts deep inside you, wanting to make it so your walls memorize his cocks shape and size.

"Fuck baby, your pussy is so good to me~ It's almost recognized my cocks perfectly ~" He cries, his tail happily swaying behind him as he brings it up to caress your sleeping face. He watches you smile, leaning into his tail touch as you unconsciously bring a hand up to hold it close to your drool-stained cheek. The action causes Belphegor's heart to skip a beat as he feels his cock twitch, his thrusts starting to lose their rhythm. "Fuck so cute, Y/n! My cute little human, so fucking perfect even when you're dreaming away, so oblivious to your filthy demon ravishing your sexy body." He laughs, hands gripping your hips enough to leave bruises as he digs his claws into your delicate flesh.

You flinch, letting out a small whimper, causing Belphegor to fawn over you as he rubs the new wounds gently. "I'm sorry baby~ shh, it's okay; your Belphie just got a little carried away." He whispers reassuringly while pressing gentle kisses over your closed eyes, letting out a small chuckle before biting his lip as he feels your walls clench around him. "Are you going to cum again Y/n?" he whispers, going to caress your face. "I am too… I'm going to cum in your pretty pussy and fill you right up~" He cheers, eyes darkening with his love for you. He gives a few more sloppy thrusts while letting out pathetic pleading cries. "Please pay attention to me baby~" He cried, kissing all over your face, knowing you wouldn't wake up from your deep slumber. He licks over your lips before desperately pressing his own against yours in a sloppy kiss drool covering your mouth. "Cum with me Y/n…cum with your favorite demon." He whimpers, his body shaking as he feels both your releases. His semen sprayed deep inside you, making sure he had filled your pussy to the point it slowly started leaking out as he gave a few more thrusts, not wanting to leave your insides as he hovered above you, drool falling from his chin.

"Please don't ever leave me Y/n…" He pleads, pressing his forehead against yours as he gently caresses your cheek. His eyes are soft and filled with love as he stares closely at all your features, a small chuckle leaving his lips before lazily glancing to the side, a mischievous smirk growing on his face as he notices his twin lying in bed opposite of him, staring wide-eyed at the two of you his cheeks a deep red mouth open in awe. Belphegor chuckles while leaning down next to your ear, whispering his following words just loud enough for his twin to hear.

"You're mine forever my sleeping princess~"

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me smut #obey me x reader #obey me x y/n #obey me x female reader #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie #obey me belphagor x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #fem reader #x reader #fanfic smut #kinktober 2023 #belphegor x reader #shall we date belphegor #belphegor avatar of sloth #smut #belphegor obey me #belphegor smut

[mrsvalentinefucker1]

Support class dick hc, kinks + How they fuck

Cw: knives, rough sex, blood

Sniper

•Dick: I’d say about 6, 6 1/2 inches if I’m being generous here. Definitely not thin, it’s got some girth to it that’s for sure. He never ever clean shaves he thinks it looks weird (he’s not wrong) so he’ll definitely just trim up a little or maybe not at all. Wild man moment. Plus, he kinda loves the scruffy look he has going on. I know everyone says he’s uncircumcised and i definitely agree with that. Tip is not red but definitely a deep pink, it’s cute. Two visible veins, one on the top of his shaft and one underneath it. So he’s very very sensitive.

•How he fucks: Rough. He likes to be fucked hard and to fuck hard. His favorite position to see you in is definitely mating press or doggy style (with a knife to your throat) he loves to see your face contort with pleasure and fear. He’s very vocal i mean haven’t you heard his voice lines. Come on. He loves telling you how great of a fuck toy you can be when you aren’t being a cunt or a teasing slut. He doesn’t have a favorite place to cum really.. Whenever he gets his rocks off is where it stays so.

•Kinks

Praise: definitely, but backhanded praise “look at you, good little slut.” Stuff like that you know?

Predator vs prey play: I know this is so basic but oh my goodness he LOVE LOVE LOVEEEESSS to chase you down and just fuck your brains out if your skull. Like I said, he likes it rough. (Me next)

Knife play: Ofc this is one of them. That mf is a literal animal. He just likes the power trip tbh. Having your life in his very hands, though he’d never do anything to ever hurt it.. it’s hot to watch your fearful eyes and if you enjoy it just as much as he does, you’re in for a ride of dirty talk and rough hard sex.

Public sex: touching you while in public. Something about it. Maybe it’s bc he likes to tease and see how long you can last without gripping his arm while shaking and begging to cum or maybe it’s because nobody around you can (probably) tell how good he’s pleasing you, and how they’ll never get a chance to touch a wonderful lady like you the way he does. Who knows

BREEDING: Though he is scared to have kids and will take every procedure to make sure you won’t get pregnant, he still loves to just cum inside of you all day, everyday. (Same sniper.)

Stepping: he probably likes to be stepped on. He’ll buy you beautiful, expensive heels just so you can step on him or press against his hard cock. (Meow.)

Spy

•Dick: solid 5 1/2, it’s not too thin but not exactly thick.. it stretches you very very nicely that is for sure. He trims it constantly. He is never out of order, he takes too much pride in himself to let it grow out like that wretched bushman. Uncircumcised, his dick skin is like.. oddly soft and velvety. One small vein on the side of his cock, it’s nice. Tip, I’d say, is a light cute pink.

•How he fucks: He either makes love for a long time or he plows you hard. Usually both. He rides the fine line very well. While he goes at it soft and caring, he teases you a lot. Vibrators, toys, his finger, his mouth. He just likes to tease you a lot.. but once he slips in, its game over for him. He can’t help it. He has to fuck you like an animal in heat.

•Kinks

Lingerie for sure. He loves to either buy them for you to give you his card to buy yourself some and then surprise him with it! (Will probably write a fic based off this)

Spanking or brat taming: He will absolutely wreck your ass if you talk back to flirt with ANYONE. He will spank you so hard you’ll become a babbling mess.

Body worship: Giving or receiving, he loves to tease you by kissing down your gorgeous body and leave small bites all over you. Nipping, kissing, nipping, kissing. You know. Backhanded kisses

Medic

•Dick: He’s German and from my experience, they’re packing serious heat. 7 inches hard. Argue with the wall because I will not listen. Tummy bulge will happen so be prepared. Much like spy he keeps himself in check, trims every couple of days. Circumcised, dark pink with a red hue tip. It’s sensitive as hell. No visible veins until he gets to fucking, then they all start popping out. Thick. Hard stretch that’s for sure.

•How he fucks: They all fuck hard but him.. dear lord. Pray and buckle up because he will bruise your cervix. He pounds. He doesn’t even fuck, HE SLAMS. bed? broken, operating table? broken, desk? Broken twice. He loves to just fuck you into a mindless mess. That’s all

•Kinks

Roleplay: He loves to roleplay anything really. Nurse and doctor, doctor and patient, boss and intern, things like that.

Knife play: scalpels are going to be pressed against your skin.. which leads me to my next kink hc

Blood kink: Licks the blood off of your wounds or the small cuts he marks your body with. If you have a period, best believe he will be begging to fuck you on it

“Meine Liebe! It feels so much better when you’re on your period, it also relieves cramps too!”

#tf2 sniper #sniper tf2 #sniper team fortress 2 #team fortress sniper #snipertf2 #tf2 x reader #tf2 sniper x reader #sniper tf2 x reader #sniper tf2 fanfic #spy tf2 fanart #spy tf2 x reader #tf2 spy #spy tf2 #spy x reader #tf2 spy x reader #spy team fortress 2 #spy tf2 fanfic #medic tf2 x reader #tf2 medic x reader #medic x reader #medictf2 #team fortress medic #team fortress 2 medic #medic tf2 #medic tf2 x reader smut #tf2 smut #medic team fortress 2 #teamfortressfanfiction #teamfortresstwoxreader #teamfortresssmut

[malereadermaniac]

Bully! ~ Yoichi x Male Reader

Idk what the public opinion on Camp Buddy is, but Yoichi is hot, and I wanna write abt him

For the purpose of this fic Yoichi is like 4-5 inches taller than you - ever if your 6" like me 😭

Male reader - fem readers dni!

Mentions of nudity and mentions of spice! No actual NSFW tho

You and Yoichi had a very straightforward relationship - bully and bullied

You were a timid kind-a guy - liked by many but no-one would stick their neck out for you

So you were what Yoichi would call "an easy target"

It was non-stop 24/7

Everytime Yoichi saw you he would find some way to pick on you or tease you

His antics varied from small comments to threatening to beat the shit out of you

His actions never actually matching his words but he got the message across

You could see it in Yoichi's eyes that he couldn't bring himself to hit you for no reason

Once your eyes were graced with the scruffy purple locks and ragged body of the muscular man, your ears would be equally graced with snide comments

"God! You're so pathetic, (n/n)"

"Fucking hell you're so weak!"

And if you'd try to ignore the taller man, he would get personally offended

"Oh, what? So I'm not worth your time now, am I, (y/n)?"

Being the compassionate person that you are, you tried to understand why Yoichi was the way he was - he had a rough childhood and has practically no family

But fuck did it get harder and harder to understand that bully!

With the camp sports day coming up, tension was clearly building within your cabin

The main person creating the tension being Yoichi

So when the purple haired man shouted at you for the 5th time today for not being able to climb a ten foot fucking rope - you felt something in you snap

The man towered over you, shirtless from his own training - annoyance visible on his face

But for the first time since your little relationship had begun, you matched his expression

"Is climbing a rope that fucking hard, (n/n)?" Yoichi teases you, his tone oozing petty annoyance

"How 'bout you just shut the hell up, Wolf Boy!?"

You gagged him a little bit with that one

Yoichi had never seen you snap back at him, he was left speechless for long enough to allow you to hit him with more

"Just 'cause you're insecure about yourself doesn't mean you have to fucking harrass me y'know?!" You shout, pushing your hands against the hunks muscular chest, pushing him backwards

"A-At least I-I ca-an use my muscles-"

"Wow! Can't even form a sentence now can you? Just fuck off you bonehead!" You keep shouting at the speechless man

Youchi should be getting mad at you right now

He's supposed to be annoyed and be mouthing off back at you with a pissed off scowl on his face

But instead, the rugged man is... blushing???

Barely anyone snaps back at him when he teases them - especially not you!

Why was his heart beating faster by the second?

And why could Yoichi only focus on how your body was moving with anger and sass?

"What? Can't mouth off anymore, can ya?" You tease the wolf boy, crossing your arms across your chest and looking up into Yoichi's eyes with slight disgust

In the span of 2 seconds, it clicked in Yoichi's brain what was happening to him

So just like a wild animal, he acted on his instincts and feelings

"What can I say, (y/n)? I get speechless when I'm around ya~" the muscular man FLIRTS with you

"HUH?! W-What are you on about now?!" You stammer out, a blush rushing to your cheeks as you avert your eyes

Yoichi moves closer to you, so you move backwards out if nervousness

You two move closer and further from one another until your back hits the wall of the rope-climb - Yoichi cornering you

"Heh... I'd never noticed you were so cute, shortie" Yoichi teases, his arm resting on the wall above your head

"F-Fuck off!" You say as you keep blushing, gently pushing your hands against Yoichi's chests

'Fuck he's so buff...' you think to yourself as you push against his massive pecs

"Ha! Alright alright... I'll see ya 'round, shortie~" Yoichi flirts as he turns around, waving goodbye to you without giving you a single glance

'What the fuck just got into him? AND WHY AM I HARD?!' You think to yourself, almost hyperventilating from the mix of emotions and panic you were feeling

Which was justified, your longtime bully just randomly started flirting with you

Calling you 'shortie' and 'cute'! Who just randomly does that?!

And it didn't help that you shared a cabin with the muscular man

So when you saw him later that night, all he did was give you a smirk and a wink

WHAT THE FUCK

You just tried your best to ignore him, heading straight for the bathroom to change into your pj's

The rest of the guys could tell something was off, you'd usually chat to all of them before changing

And Yoichi was never this silent, he was clearly lost in thought - which was rare since Yoichi barely ever used his brain!

Randomly, Yoichi goes towards the bathroom - once again following his instincts to just see you and tease you

He barges in on you changing

You jolt up and freeze at the sound of the door banging open

Silence fills the room as Yoichi gets practically entranced by your ass - a blush sprouting on his face as he bares his teeth in a grin

You turn around slightly to see the taller man eyeing you down - your turn also revealing your soft dick

"Damn, shortie~ Giving me quite the show aren't ya?" Yoichi says with a teasing smile, eyeing up your body

You were speechless, but you could still force your muscles to throw whatever was in your hand at the rugged man

"You pervert!" You shout, the item of clothing in your hand landing directly on Yoichi's face

It just so happened that the item of clothing was your underwear....

The universe must have it out for you today.

The purple haired man grabs the worn boxers and bunches them up - making a comment about them being cute or funny then giving you a horny smirk

'So cute... they smell good too ya know'

'SHUT UP!' You shout, pushing the man put of the bathroom, your frame still fully naked

'Well I won't turn down some free material' Yoichi thinks to himself as he looks at your bunched underwear and chuckles as he remebrs your reaction to him seeing you buttnaked

#gay #male reader #x male reader #fanfic #fluff #cute gay #camp buddy #camp buddy x male readers #yoichi yukimura #yoichi yukimura x reader #yoichi yukimura x male reader #camp buddy x reader #m reader #gay sfw #male reader sfw #camp buddy imagine #gay imagine #x m reader

[sweet-evie]

Head empty... Just having thoughts of an AU centered around Apartment Ghost!Gojo... 👻👻👻 So take my imagines...

✨ masterlist ✨

»» Ghost!Gojo = Casper the Friendly Ghost... It doesn't stop him from being a fucking menace day in and day out though.

»» Ghost!Gojo has been dead and buried for 6 months.

»» Ghost!Gojo haunts an apartment occupied by a single mom with two kids: one elementary kid and a toddler.

»» Imagine how fucking creepy and unsettling it is to find your toddler talking to empty air, and when you ask them, they look back at you with big innocent eyes and that big cheeky grin, and they start babbling about their "imaginary friend".

»» Creepy, but the mom dismisses it at first, chalking it up to childish imagination running wild, but when the older sibling casually asks about a tall white-haired man hanging around the apartment living room at dinner, Mom is starting to get concerned. Couple this with the fact that her toddler is giggling at odd hours during the night, while the room is empty. 

»» Eventually, Ghost!Gojo makes his presence known to the mom... And he's all smiles and being his usual goofy self while he's waving -- as if it isn't unsettling to have a dead fucking person hanging out in your home.

»» It took a while, but I like to think, the mom warms up to Ghost!Gojo being around after a couple of months. He doesn't show himself frequently to Mom because he freaks her out, but it doesn't stop Ghost!Gojo from being her toddler's playmate and her older kid's study buddy.

»» As time passed, they got so comfortable living with the ghost that mom and her kids forget that Ghost!Gojo is not actually alive and he doesn't show himself to other people, except for them.

»» After they get so used to him and comfortable with him being around, think of Ghost!Gojo as a very very friendly and chaotic poltergeist. He doesn't destroy things (at least when he does, he doesn't mean to). He's very nice... He just does annoying shit. For instance...

»» Ghost!Gojo likes to dig around the kitchen cupboards for candy and leaves the doors open just to annoy the older sibling and leave the mom exasperated. They leave out a bowl of candy for him in the living room after that, hoping it would discourage his behavior, but nope... It's still Gojo, and he does what he wants.

»» Ghost!Gojo also pranks the mom and moves things around in the kitchen to confuse her. The first time he did it, she got scared. A few more times, she got so annoyed. But after like the umpteenth time, the mom just rolls her eyes, like, "Haha, very funny, Satoru! I'm getting stuff from the laundry room, and this kitchen better be sorted when I get back."

»» Mom has definitely threatened to call 'ghostbusters' on Satoru's ass multiple times, and Gojo thinks it's hilarious. She never actually does anything to drive him away. To be honest, she quite likes the fact that her kids have a babysitter when she has to work late... Even if said babysitter is a wandering spirit.

»» On that note, Ghost!Gojo takes his babysitting duties seriously, and proclaims himself the best babysitter ever!

»» Ghost!Gojo does all the typical things people do to entertain toddlers. He talks to her toddler, entertains them, makes them laugh, tickles them, slips candies in their lap, picks up toys and disappears from view to give the toddler a fun puppet show -- with all the floating toys and shit.

»» The older sibling actually saw him doing this one time when they slipped into their younger sibling's room, and they just had to laugh, because who would have thought their family of three would be lucky enough to move into an apartment haunted by a very friendly ghost.

»» Ghost!Gojo helps mom cook sometimes, fetching her ingredients from the pantry and stuff. If a normal person were in that kitchen, all they would see are floating ingredients. It's enough to give anyone a heart attack, but for mom and her 2 kids, it's just Satoru.

»» One time, the older sibling invited their friends over and one of their friends got the idea to play with a Ouija board after the older sibling joked about the apartment being haunted.

»» They play with the ouija board, and Satoru plays into it for fun. Pre-teen kid's friends are terrified, but the pre-teen kid is amused as hell, because they know it's just Gojo.

»» When the friends go home, they tell the pre-teen kid about how much fun they had, and pre-teen kid thanks Ghost!Gojo for being kind enough to play along.

»» Ghost!Gojo has a habit of collecting coins.

»» Ghost!Gojo has never actually tried leaving the confines of the apartment before, but the pre-teen kid asks and they actually figure it out together.

»» They had so much fun doing it too... Ghost!Gojo figures out a way to possess random objects so the pre-teen kid can take him anywhere.

»» That being said, Ghost!Gojo has possessed the most ridiculous things. Think Ghost!Gojo possessing laundry detergent, the coffee table, the toilet paper, etc. He possessed the oven once and it broke, and the mom got so mad, so Ghost!Gojo steers clear of possessing electronic devices from then on.

»» Ghost!Gojo helps the kids surprise their mom during holidays... e.g., Mother's Day, Christmas, etc. For obvious reason, the family starts loving Halloween, because Ghost!Gojo loves it so much.

»» The toddler starts calling Ghost!Gojo 'Papa'.

»» It warms moms heart and hurts her at the same time. 

»» Because Satoru Gojo would have made a wonderful father.

»» Ghost!Gojo sometimes wishes he was still alive so he could court mom properly...

»» And since he can't do anything about the fact that he's dead (a ghost for practically one year now), all he can do now is watch over them and make them as happy as possible...

»» Ghost!Gojo promises to stay for as long as he can, for as long as he is permitted.

»» Ghost!Gojo gets to see the kids grow up, move out, and he gets to see mom grow old too...

»» It breaks his heart to watch the people he's grown to care about grow old, while he stays frozen in time, haunting this little apartment forever.

»» Eventually, mom had to say 'goodbye', deciding she wanted to move to the countryside. It wasn't an easy decision...

»» The kids, now adults, return to their childhood apartment to help mom move away, and although Ghost!Gojo rarely shows himself these days, he appears one last time.

»» Unsurprisingly, leaving the place behind is hard. Every time they look back on their childhood, it's undeniably brighter and more colorful, and it's all because of the beloved ghost who made their lives so much brighter because of his presence.

»» Ghost!Gojo was their 'Dad,' 'Older Brother', 'Fun Uncle', and 'Annoying Roommate'. He's worn so many hats as the kids grew up.

»» Satoru doesn't stop them from moving away, only thanking them for showing him what it would have been like for him if he had been lucky enough to grow old with kids of his own. He never had that in his life, but he's glad that he got to have that even after he'd died.

»» He doesn't know how long he's sentenced to wander the earthly plains, but he promises to see them around.

»» The younger sibling actually cries and wishes that he was their dad for real.

»» The mom, now old but still sweet and kind, thanks Ghost!Gojo for being part of their family.

It was goodbye...

Gojo: I'm sad and forever bound to an apartment building.

Also Gojo: I will terrorize the next dweller if they're a dick.

The next occupant is an asshole who cheats on his significant other... Ghost!Gojo is making their life hell.

I kind of want to write a fic about this now 🥴

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #ghost!gojo #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #ghost au #satoru gojo x reader #gojou satoru x you #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x fem!reader #satoru x you #gojo x you #satoru x reader #thoughts #headcanons #imagines #gojo x oc #gojo/reader #wbad fanfiction

[killstarrs]

nsfw alphabet with hamzah!

cw: uh like everything very nsfw

aftercare- biiiiig aftercare man. he makes sure you’re all good and gets you water. he needs to be HELDDD loves to just lay in your arms after the deed. eventually falls asleep from you rubbing his back

body part- his favorite body part of his is probably his arms. he loves when you hold onto his biceps, it makes him feel all manly lol

he doesn’t really have a favorite for you, he loves it all lol. lives your thighs and hips and if you workout he looooooves your muscles. thinks they’re really hot.

cum- LOVES to cum in you and watch it drip out (slight breeding kink lols) but if you’re not using birth control then definitely in your mouth or on your stomach.

dirty secret- steals your panties. this man is a perv 100% and will steal your panties to jerk off to them. and he acts all surprised when you notice that some pairs have gone missing. he be all like “whaaaat thats wiiilddddd”

experience- he had never had sex before you. he had kissed one girl in high-school but nothing after that so you have to break him in a little

favorite position- looves when you ride him. like lives for it. but if you’re tired that day he doesn’t mind missionary!

goofy- tries to be to calm his own nerves but it just comes across like he’s nervous (which he most definitely is). depends on the day really. if yall are drunk/stoned he is really goofy. always giggling.

hair- he’s well groomed. very conscious about it at first but then he knows you dont rlly care. he doesnt care how shaven you are as long as he gets some ass lol

intimacy- again, he starts off goofy but then hes like “oh they fr want to fuck me” and he locks in😭😭 loves for you to look him in the eye while riding him. also loves to make out while feeling each other up.

jack off- he jerks off regularly but then he meets you and he’s horny 24/7 so he does it wayyyy more often. even before y’all start dating he’s thinking of you and touching himself :((

kink- biiiiiiiiiiig praise kink, but mostly receiving. he needs to be told he’s making you feel good, it makes him 10000% hornier.

location- preferably the bedroom but doesn’t mind car sex. he likes watching the windows fog up lolz

motivation- anything you do. like anything. but usually its when he sees you concentrating on one thing really hard, he pictures that you’re looking at him like that and it gets him all hot and bothered

NO- no gross shit. also doesn’t like tying you down or restricting you.

oral- he’s a munch and i will die on this hill. i’ve said this before but he could spend hours between your thighs. he gets off on it. when he gets head though he’s a crier 100%. constant rambling because it feels too good to keep quiet.

pace- you have to go slow with him the first couple of times so he doesn’t cum too fast :((. it all depends on how fast you want to go tho! he will hang on the edge for hours just for you.

quickie- not big on them. prefers that you take your time

risk- he will freak the freak out if someone catches him subbing. needs people to think he’s manly.

stamina- needs a lil break after but can do 4-5 rounds a night. again, he will sit between your legs for years so he only stops when you’re ready.

toy- loves when you use your vibrator on him. he never thought it would feel so good. also the pervy part of him likes to watch you use it on yourself

unfair- he’s not much of a tease, he’ll give you what you want when you want it. but he loooooves when you tease him.

volume- LOUD. constantly rambling nonsense and cant keep quiet. whimpers when you tease him and MOAAAAANNNNNSSS.

wild card- loves dry humping SO MUCH.

x-ray- a good 6-7 inches. not too much not too little, and he knows how to use it

yearning- he is always ready to fuck dude. before yall start dating he wants you so bad it physically hurts

ZZZ- like i said for the aftercare part, he makes sure you’re taken care of then falls asleep in your arms.

#hamzahthefantastic #slushynoobz #hamzah x reader

[fazedlight]

Tattoos (fluffy supercorp ficlet, post-6) “The wild days of youth,” Lena said jokingly, holding out the to-go box of potstickers to Kara from her comfy seat in the Tower. “I just didn’t want to stop.”

“What was the appeal?” Kara asked, reaching for a potsticker with her fingers, popping it into her mouth as Lena pulled the box back.

Lena smiled in amusement. Classy as always, she thought, as she reached for her chopsticks. “I suppose it was just… the expectations. A Luthor should not be so uncultured.”

Kara was making small grabby fingers, so Lena rolled her eyes affectionately, passing the box of potstickers before reaching for the pan-fried green beans. Kara popped another potsticker in, her voice muffled from the food. “So it was an act of rebellion?”

Lena hummed. “My arm tattoo was first, the day I turned eighteen. A simple bird, something that could fly - it always seemed like freedom to me. Same reason I got my pilot’s license.”

“What came next?” Kara asked curiously, curling up on her spot on the couch.

“I went big. The ���Purity’ script on my back.” Lena smiled, somewhat embarrassed. “It was kind of an ironic tramp stamp. I wasn’t as, uh, extroverted as some of my friends. Veronica was kind of wild at parties.”

Kara laughed. “And then the circles?”

Lena grew pensive for a moment, before nodding. “Lex turned the sun red, and I… just couldn’t breathe. I found myself thinking about my mom a lot.”

“Your mom?” Kara said gently, pausing from her food to look up.

“She… talked a lot, about past, present, future. It’s one of the few things I remember her saying.” Lena glanced down at her wrist, where three circles of growing sizes lay in a line. “I just wanted to commemorate that. That whatever I was going through now, I would be able to get past it.”

“Oh, Lena,” Kara said, a little sadly.

“It was a long time ago, Kara,” Lena said emphatically, her voice… perhaps a bit contemplative, but content. “Things are better now. You make things better.”

Kara smiled softly for a moment, before wondering out loud. “And the pain didn’t bother you?”

“Not really,” Lena said. “It hurt, but it was… meditative? Something to focus on, when I needed to distract myself.”

“That makes sense,” Kara said thoughtfully. The two glanced at each other, before quietly resuming their meal.

Lena reached over for a paper napkin, smiling in a bashful way that crinkled her nose. “So am I the most tatted person you know?”

“Oh no, definitely not!” Kara said, as she popped yet another potsticker in her mouth, looking down into the container for her next one. “Kate has way more tattoos than you,” she muffled through her food.

Kate Kane? Lena thought, with a twinge of… something. She forgot that Kara had even met Kate before. “Oh really?”

“Yeah, like everywhere,” Kara said, reaching for the scallion pancakes. “She even has a dolphin on her butt. It’s super cute. Just don’t tell her I told you,” she said with a laugh.

And Lena’s mind froze. A moment passed, before it slowly started turning again. 

Kara- 

Kara has- 

KARA HAS SEEN KATE’S ASS?! 

“That’s nice,” Lena said tensely.

Kara glanced up from her food, examining Lena closely. “Are you okay?”

“Yup,” Lena said, failing to get the stiffness out of her voice.

Kara’s eyebrows crinkled in concern, as she set her food back down on the coffee table - a large feat, really, considering that there were still three potstickers left. “Are you- are you jealous of Kate?” Kara asked curiously.

I didn’t know you liked women, Lena thought desperately. Why didn’t I know? “It’s- I’m fine. It’s fine.”

Kara tilted her head. “You can always get more?”

“What- no, Kara, it’s not her tats I’m jealous of.”

Kara blinked. “Then what are you jealous of?”

Fuck fuck fuck.

Lena paused, taking stock of her options. Kara isn’t currently dating Kate, Lena thought to herself. That much was certain, Kara didn’t mention visiting Kate at all, and Lena was pretty confident that whatever they had before, wasn’t going on now. And it did mean that Kara was into women…

Maybe they had a chance? “I like you,” Lena said, trying to keep the grimace off her face. “Romantically, I mean.”

“Oh- wait- really?” Kara said, stuttering. “I’m not sure how that relates- I mean, I didn’t think you- I-” Kara coughed, pausing for a moment to clear her throat. “I like you too. Romantically.”

“Oh,” Lena said, her eyes widening as Kara smiled shyly. “That’s… that’s good.”

“Yeah,” Kara said, smiling softly. “I want to… take you out on a date?”

“I would like that,” Lena said.

Kara’s foot bounced, a nervous sort of excitement in her body, the two sheepishly resuming their meal, with the occasional warm glance, thoughts floating by their minds on what the future might hold.

Until, eventually, Kara’s expression grew a bit pensive. “What’s wrong?” Lena asked.

“Nothing!” Kara said. “I’m just not sure how we got here from talking about tattoos.”

“Oh, I… I just didn’t realize Kate was your ex, that’s all.”

“My ex?” Kara said, her eyebrows furrowing again in confusion. “Wait, I- you thought- oh.” “What?” Lena asked curiously.

“Lena, I-” Kara paused, holding back a laugh. “I saw her tattoos in battle. I needed to use my x-ray vision.”

“... Oh,�� Lena squeaked.

#fluff #supercorp #supercorp ficlet #supercorp fanfic #mel writes ficlets

[shinestarhwaa]

SAN NSFW ALPHABET

A - Aftercare (how is he after sex)

San is super sweet and gentle to his lover after sex, he'll ask a thousand times if they need anything and hold them in his big, strong arms.

B- Bodypart (his favourite bodypart on you)

I think we all know it can only be one thing and that is the 🍑. San loves your ass, and will touch it the entire day long, sexually or just out of love (or if he wants to be annoying).

C - Cum (anything to do with cum)

Sannie loves to cum inside you and breed you like the good pet that you are-

D - Dirty secret (his dirty secret)

He loves your ass and wants to fuck it (even if he knows you won't let him, he'll still think about it cuz he be obsessed)

E - Experience (how experienced is he?)

I think San has some experience. I don't know if his bodycount is necissarily high but with the ones he did have sex with he's done a lot with soooo

F - Favourite position

Doggy style/reverse cowgirl🍑

G - Goofy (how he acts in the moment?)

This depends on the mood cuz he can be a little silly sometimes but more often than not he's serious about sexytime.

H - Hair (how groomed is he?)

He's either completely bare or he trims it for you. I cannot decide.

I - Intimacy (how passionate is he?)

San is super intimate, even if it's not about sex. He's very loving and will initiate gentle touches, naked cuddling, bathing together etc.

J - Jack off (how often does he masturbate?)

Bit more than average? 4/5 times a week? 6? 7? I don't know, it might depend on how his mood is but I think he's fairly horny most of the time lmao and he might go twice in a row-

K - Kink

San loves spanking, he wants his hands on you all the time but he won't mind a spanking if he's subby himself either👀

L - Location (what's his favourite place to have sex?)

The bedroom allows him to be most comfortable so probably that but he enjoys fooling around in the shower a lot.

M - Motivation (what keeps him going?)

Nothing's as good as the feeling of you getting more aroused.

N - NO (what is a no-go for him/turn-offs?)

He will NOT have sex with his family in the house. His family is holy and he will not stand the chance he'd get caught.

O - Oral (giving or receiving, skill etc.)

He's fairly skilled in oral and loves to give but I would say it's 50/50 because he wants his mouth on himself everyday.

P - Pace (fast and rough? slow and sensual?)

He's usually more on the fast and rough side, he'll grope you everywhere to hold you in place and ruin you.

Q - Quickie (their opinion on quickies)

He's more a fan of long sessions but once in a while he doesn't mind it.

R - Risk (experiments, taking risks etc.)

Is a bit shy about trying new things so you might have to lead a little in that, but he's open minded.

S - Stamina (how long does he last?)

Lasts quite long, at least 3 rounds I'd say. Even if he gets tired he'll still wanna prove his strength to you.

T - Toys (do they own toys? does he use them with his partner or himself?)

I think he's the type to use toys on himself rather than on his partner (but he would occasionally! He just prefers to do the work himself). He might own a fleshlight or a dildo/vibrator if he is into that

U - Unfair (how much do they like to tease?)

He's a tease but he cannot last long. He gives in too easily.

V - Volume (how loud are they? what sounds do they make?)

Okay no cuz San can get pretty loud. Be it dirty talk or moans, groans, grunts and all the other animalistic noises escaping his mouth.

W - Wild Card (random headcanon)

San has you naked over his lap as he orders you to count the slaps he's giving your ass. It's slowly turning red and it's starting to hurt but the vibrator inside you and the willpower to make Sanie proud of you gets you going. "That's it baby? Number 10 already, aren't you such a good pet for me?"

X - X-Ray (what's going on in them pants?)

He's average to a bit bigger than average (I can't decide but this is based on a set of pics I've seen of him not wearing underwear under his sweats lol) but he's definitely thick and girthy.

Y - Yearning (how high is their sexdrive?)

Honestly, he probably has the highest sexdrive out of all the members. Even in regular videos or videos from tour theres a hint of sexual tension or arousal.

Z - ZZZ (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards?)

If he's done multiple rounds he'll fall asleep quite fast but he'll make sure that you're okay first, even if he's already half asleep.

Taglist: @anyamaris @a-soft-hornytiny @whatudowhennooneseesyou @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @pyeonghongrie-main @woosanbby @dreamlesswonder86 @changbinslovelylegs @jonghostie @lovjensoo @1-800-shedevil @mjyungi @bratty-tingz @sugarnspice630

#kpop #ateez #smut #shinestarhwaa #san