#the camera clique

[highjayo]

I know Christmas has past, but I had this funny thought of Crabblesnitch forcing all the students into a group pic together and smile to show all their parents how great Bullworth is or something to that nature

#oh you jocks don't like the nerds? stfu and smile for the camera #half of their smiles just scream 'oh god kill me' #and Crabblesnitchs dumbass would put all the cliques who don't like each other near each other #- Crabblesnitch probably #Jimmy would probably be made to take the pic #bully cce #bully canis canem edit #bully game #canis canem edit

[thoughts-reasons]

Twitter

#i tried not to give it away too soon™️ knowing our 4 lurkers and inez 😝 #imagine a love story and gasoline mash up coming to life in the third year of the pandemic and days before a certain anniversary #i'm pretty sure there will be 5k worded projections written about it 😝 #as if i would? plus the camera angle is so distinct it might make certain cliques froth at the mouth so no! #the first and only rule is no body no crime 🤣🤣🤣 #i saw their recent contributions™️ to the discourse™️ and uh... #i will simply comfort myself with the thought of someone™️ crossing oceans while this pandemic™️ was raging #when there was no vaccine yet and international travel was so restricted #the things people do for a love that was really™️ something not just an idea of something let me count the ways #i just know a response to an ultimatum of getting your sh*t together when i see it kermit 😝 #i take all your indiscretions in good fun 🤝 you needed a$$ what's wrong with that? *salute* the good and bad really do end up in a song 😝 #to kermit's fans this is me trying VERY HARD not to get too excited #the great british summer escapade continues literally trip of my life (oh™️) #anyone been to le castellet? 😏 #originanon

[capricorn-season]

Homophobia in drag

When I was a young boy, I loved spending the night at my grandmother’s house. There, I could stay up as late as I wanted, and in the morning, there would always be Cinnamon Toast Crunch for breakfast. But the best part was raiding the closet in her basement, which was full of the gowns she had worn in the 1960s and 1970s – frilly pink and purple confections made of lace, chiffon and silk. I would put them on and watch The Golden Girls, sophisticatedly sipping Coke from a wine glass.

When I was nine, my dad bought a video camera, a giant monstrosity that my siblings and I struggled to balance on our shoulders while we filmed home videos. Alone, I’d prop the camera on the coffee table and record myself modelling various outfits, explaining to the camera why this plaid shirt went with these cargo shorts, or why this teal Starter jacket complemented these acid-washed jeans so perfectly. I captured on camera the dance I had painstakingly choreographed to Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch’s ‘Good Vibrations’.

As a kid, I followed my two older sisters around like a shadow, mimicking their mannerisms – the way they tucked loose strands of hair behind their ears when they were concentrating on their maths homework; the way they jutted their hips whenever they were talking to cute boys. Like them, I was a naturally athletic kid. My favourite sport was lacrosse, but I much preferred to play with the girls instead of the boys. The boys were quick to push and shove, and they loved to whack each other with their aluminium sticks. Girls relied more on their speed, their reflexes and the skills they’d honed to keep the ball securely cradled in the shallow mesh of their wooden sticks.

I grew up in a fundamentalist Christian community – most people would call it a cult. From kindergarten to the sixth grade, I attended the community’s tiny school. Because enrollment was so low, there was no in-crowd, no separate cliques of jocks and geeks. In retrospect, I’m sure my classmates and especially my teachers noticed my gender-nonconformity – all of my home videos prove that it was glaring – but it went largely ignored. All that mattered was that we were good Christians, that we loved Jesus and evangelised God’s Word to as many people as possible. When I learned about homosexuals in Bible class, or about AIDS (which we were told God had created to punish homosexuals for their sins), I didn’t think for a moment that I was one of them. Sure, my first real crush, when I was 11, had been on a boy – Elijah Wood, an actor about my age whose performance in the 1994 B-movie, North, had captured my heart. But at the time, before sexual maturity, I mistook the longing I felt for Elijah with the more sanitised desire to simply keep his company and be his best friend. I indiscriminately absorbed all of the lessons I learned about homosexuals, as if they were and would always be irrelevant to my life.

The summer after my sixth-grade year, my family left the community and we moved to a neighbouring town. I began seventh grade in a large public school, where there was definitely an in-crowd. My new classmates wasted little time informing me how unacceptable it was for a boy like me to behave the way I did – the way I enunciated my s-words, the way I brushed my auburn hair, which I had highlighted the previous summer with Sun-In. They called me a faggot, delivered me notes that said everyone knew my ‘dirty little secret’. They asked me frequently, ‘Are you a boy or a girl?’. Well, of course I was a boy, I would respond, trembling.

Meanwhile, I was beginning to sexually mature; I was soon developing crushes that inspired more than just a desire to keep a boy’s company. With horror, I realised that I might actually be what the kids were calling me – which, I knew in my bones, guaranteed me a tragically short life and a one-way ticket to hell. That, after all, was what the old form of homophobia entailed. Self-loathing.

To survive the onslaught, I defeminised myself. I lowered my voice, started wearing baggy jeans and sweatshirts, cut the highlights out of my hair, and replaced my Mariah Carey CDs with Nirvana. Soon, the fear and the anxiety became too much to bear, and the only refuge I found was in alcohol and drugs.

In high school, with each passing year, my drug use got worse. After graduation, I lasted one semester in college before dropping out. Two months later, at the age of 19, I had my first of several stays in a local psychiatric ward. I was delusional, addicted to drugs and suicidal.

It was during my second stay in the psychiatric ward that I was introduced to a 12-step programme, which was how I would eventually get sober in my early twenties. It was slow-going in the beginning of my sobriety to accept my homosexuality. I began to reconnect with the young boy I had once been, the boy whose interests expanded beyond what was typical for males. I experimented with bronzer and mascara, and got French manicures and pedicures.

Engaging in these behaviours felt liberating for a while, but eventually the novelty wore off. In fact, they started to feel performative. I realised I didn’t need those things to be my authentic self. My ideas, my voice, the way I treat other people – these are the things that make me the person I truly am.

In 2011, when I was 28, I fell in love with a man. The following year, I joined the fight for marriage equality. After we won that campaign, I knew I wanted to become a gay activist. I wanted to help create a world in which feminine boys and butch girls could exist peacefully in society. A world in which gender-nonconforming people were accepted as natural variations of their own sex. Minorities, sure, but real and valid nonetheless.

The trans question

In 2017, at the age of 33, I enrolled at Columbia University, New York to complete my undergraduate degree. There, I was shocked to discover how gay activism had evolved since marriage equality became the law of the land. The focus was now entirely on personal pronouns and on being ‘queer’. My classmates labelled me ‘cis’, short for cisgender. I didn’t even know what it meant. All I knew was that they called me ‘cis’ in the same cadence that the seventh graders had called me ‘fag’.

Soon, I learned about nonbinary identities, and that some people – many people – were literally arguing that sex, not gender, was a social construct. I met people who evangelised a denomination of transgenderism that I had never heard of, one that included people who had never been gender dysphoric and who had no desire to medically transition. I met straight people whose ‘trans / nonbinary’ identities seemed to be defined by their haircuts, outfits and inchoate politics. I met straight women with Grindr accounts, and listened to them complain about the ‘transphobic’ gay men who didn’t want to have sex with women.

All around me, it seemed, straight people were spontaneously identifying into my community and then policing our behaviours and customs. I began to think that this broadening of the ‘trans’ and ‘queer’ umbrella was giving a hell of a lot of people a free pass to express their homophobia.

At Columbia, I took classes on LGBT history, but much of that history was delivered through the lens of queer theory. Queer theorists appropriate French philosopher Michel Foucault’s ideas about the power of language in constructing reality. They argue that homosexuality didn’t exist prior to the late 19th century, when the word ‘homosexual’ first appeared in medical discourse. Queer theorists proselytise a liberation that supposedly results from challenging the concepts of empirical reality and ‘normativity’. But their converts instead often end up adrift in a sea of nihilism. Queer theory, which has become the predominant method of discussing and analysing gender and sexuality in universities, seemed to me to be more ideological than truthful.

In my classes on gender and sexuality in the Muslim world, however, I discovered something else, too. I learned about current medical practices in Iran, where gay sex is illegal and punishable by death, and where medical transition is subsidised by the state to ‘cure’ gays and lesbians who, the theocratic elite insists, are ‘normal’ people ‘trapped in the wrong bodies’. I privately drew parallels between the anti-gay laws and practices of Iran and what I saw developing in the West, but I convinced myself I was just being paranoid.

Then, I learned about what was happening to gender-nonconforming kids – that they were being prescribed off-label drugs to halt their natural development, so that they’d have time to decide if they were really transgender. If so, they would then be more successful at passing as the opposite sex in adulthood. Even worse, I learned that these practices were being touted by LGBT-rights organisations as ‘life-saving medical care’.

It felt like I was living in an episode of The Twilight Zone. How long were these kids supposed to remain on the blockers? And what happens in a few years, if they decide they’re not ‘truly trans’ after all, and all of their peers have surpassed them? Are they seriously supposed to commence puberty at 16 or 17 years of age? These questions rattled my brain for months, until I learned the actual statistics: nearly all children who are prescribed puberty blockers go on to receive cross-sex hormones. Blockers don’t give a kid time to think. They solidify him in a trans identity and sentence him to a lifetime of very expensive, experimental medicalisation.

I wondered how different these so-called trans kids were from the little boy I had been. Obviously, I grew up to be a gay man and not a transwoman. But how could gender clinicians tell the difference between a young boy expressing his homosexuality through gender nonconformity, and someone ‘born in the wrong body’? I decided to dig deeper into the real history of medical transition.

Medicalising homosexuality

What I learned validated all of my worst fears. I learned that for decades after their invention, synthetic ‘sex hormones’ were used by doctors and scientists who sought to ‘cure’ homosexuality, and by law enforcement to chemically castrate men convicted of committing homosexual acts.

I learned about actress and singer Christine Jorgensen, one of the first people in the US to become widely known for having ‘sex-reassignment’ surgery in the early 1950s. Jorgensen may now be celebrated by the modern ‘LGBTQIA+’ community as a trans icon, but he seemed more concerned with escaping his homosexuality, which he said was ‘deeply alien to my religious attitudes’. As Jorgensen put it, ‘I identified myself as female and consequently my interests in men were normal’.

I learned that of the first adolescents to be treated for gender dysphoria (or what was then called ‘gender identity disorder’) with puberty blockers and cross-sex hormones in the 1990s and early 2000s, the vast majority were homosexual. And I learned that these studies inform current ‘gender-affirming care’ practices.

Soon, I met detransitioned gay men who had sought an escape from internalised and external homophobia in a transgender identity. They continue to suffer severe post-surgical complications, years after their vaginoplasties.

I began to fear we had reached a point of no return a couple of years ago, during a conversation I had with a supposedly ‘progressive’ friend. I told her that, if I had been a young boy now, I likely would have been prescribed puberty blockers and gone on to medically transition. ‘And you don’t think you would’ve been happy as a transwoman?’, she asked me. Her question left me speechless. I couldn’t find the words to state the obvious: that I am a gay man, not a transwoman; that statistics tell me my medical transition may not have been successful; and that I would suffer severe medical complications. In any case, if I had transitioned, I wouldn’t be living an authentic life. After all, isn’t that what this is supposed to be about? Living authentically?

Sylvester, an androgynous disco icon of the 1970s and 1980s, was once asked what gay liberation meant to him. He answered, ‘I could be the queen that I really was without having a sex change or being on hormones’. Perhaps I belong in an earlier era, when newly liberated gays and lesbians rebelled against the medical and psychiatric experiments they had long been subjected to. Perhaps my early aspiration of expanding what it means to be a boy or a girl was nothing but a pipe dream. In Europe, there is hope that these medical experiments will cease, and that gay and lesbian adolescents will be spared from a lifetime of medicalisation. But in the US, nearly eight years after same-sex marriage became the law of the land, it is full-steam ahead with these homophobic practices.

For voicing my concerns about gender-affirming care for minors, I have been called a transphobic bigot. If that’s what speaking out against the medicalisation of homosexuality makes me, then so be it.

#gender critical #jk rowling #twitter #artículo

[anantaru]

How about jealous reader with kuni?

cw. [ex]plicit, jealous! reader, established relationship, fem! reader

kuni was as pretty as a drawing— or a picture made by the most finest camera of fontaine. beautiful, bewitching, pretty— there were many ways to accurately describe your boyfriend‘s alluring demeanor.

but in your own very eyes, they still did not do him any justice.

consequently, you, in all respects, did not mind the eye twitching chit chatters behind your back you oh so happen to catch onto every once in a while— how, another clique of people you only knew distantly, would slowly walk past your boyfriend and afterwards gush about his darling face and his beauteous traits.

his lustrous eyes and the color— which was hypnotizing in its own rights, reminding them of how he‘s idly behaving and how damn strong he was said to be according to the other rapidly growing news chumming about the mysterious man wandering around sumeru city.

but, snap out of it, not to lose sight of the fact that in actuality he was all yours— yours, yours and yours. but for some annoying, irksome ground you wanted to show him, as if he wasn't already aware of it— even though scaramouche knew and did not require you to prove nor demonstrate anything of that sorts to his person.

thus far, you kept it to yourself— that brewing, gut-wrenching feeling manifesting in your belly and littering into your bones, remained concealing by yourself until it all shattered right into your face.

now, you hover over him, saddened with your mind everywhere but where it should be— clumsily glissading your hands over his pale chest before raking your head down. you think he notices that something wasn't right but you hope he doesn't after all.

at your own pacing, you ghost over his jawline before placing your lips on top of his, for once sealing the insufferable distance between your bodies and stealing a couple kisses from your lover.

"i hate it." you admit against your own volition, it's almost as if something metaphysical forced you to say it out loud, though you're moaning into his mouth as he skillfully bottomed his hips deeper into you, erratically slapping his erection into your worn out hole.

"i hate it when they talk about you!" but then, it hits him and scaramouche opens his eyes at your baffling words— which had also been confusing him greatly as he carefully reduced the flow on his hips to pull your face off his, observing your with sorrow drenched expression.

"ah— wait!" even with him trying to decipher what was going on with you, he catches himself flinching into your lips again when you jerk your cunt into his length, walls twitching experimentally, like a second pulls enclosing his throbbing cock.

"who— fucking who talks about me?!"

breathing slowed, you pout at him, unintentionally reliving the innumerable days you had witnessed people attempting to get with him, with scaramouche; your boyfriend, soulmate, your life.

it was sad— but more embarrassing if you were actually truthful to yourself, that you let someone so insignificant as a random person‘s words influence you this much that you‘re still thinking about it even while your boyfriend was in the midst of fucking the broad daylight out of your skull.

"those girls." you sniff, messily shoving away the crystallines sticking onto your doused lashes with the back of your hand. but before you can catch a breather from your own damned psyche, scaramouche curls your body close to him, your hips now muted— though his cock would rest and skim into the cavernous pits in your pussy, but mellowing down your rise and falls.

"they always talk about you." you hiccup again, kissing his lips once, twice— one more, trying to hide the fact that you were tremendously jealous right now, of everything and all, it's not even 'just' those people, you began to doubt yourself and if anything, that's what worsened the whole setting.

scaramouche‘s face was ridden with confusion still but he did not say anything right away— right now, he thinks the most important was you, as always— to aid you, to kiss and drink your tears away and keep you warm, plugged into his chest.

genuinely, he had no clue who or what you were talking about, but if he learned one thing from being in a relationship with you; it’s that whatever is happening in either of your lives, you're battling it together, as one entity.

yet still, did you already forget that he‘s absolutely in love with you? or lets rephrase that, shall we? scaramouche was obsessed with you, downright and shamelessly crazy about you. that you‘re the only person that crosses his mind hour on hour, night on night?

he opens his eyes, he sees you, he closes them, he sees you.

"i don‘t care." he spoke upfront to be certain to get his point across.

yet scaramouche needed to show his disinterest in more ways than a simple sentence— in an immediate chain of reactions, he was flaunting you on your back so he‘d be the one to tower over your pretty frame.

you're his, you're his and his, he thinks about it, knows it and wants to imprint it into your insides and out.

"i don‘t care about anyone." he drawls back, using his skilled tongue to plant a wet line on your collarbones before shutting down your worries by a swift hurdle of his hips in you, bringing one of your legs over his shoulder as you tremble under him by how good of a position he had you in, how almost feral, he uncontrollably claimed your sopping cunt with the relentless tempo on his hips.

"i only care about you." he smacks his cock forward again and again, "you, you, you." and he muses in tune with each thrust— fuck, again and he wants to make you cum so badly his cock was beginning to ache, then twitch in you, from both excitement and the pinpointed drags of his heavy cock rubbing over your inflamed insides.

"so stop thinking about it, hm?"

with the impact now being significantly larger, your breasts bounced in keeping with his newfound, reckless energy— and you cry out his name with a sweet, satisfied smile on your lips.

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

#scaramouche smut #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #scaramouche x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #scaramouche x you #genshin drabbles #genshin impact drabbles #genshin impact scaramouche smut #genshin impact scaramouche x reader #wanderer smut #wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader smut #genshin impact x you #genshin x you #𖤣𖤥𖠿𖤣𖤥 thirsts'

[strangerthingssteddiebrainrot]

A little ficlet I was just inspired to write at 1am lol

Listen

Despite dating a rockstar, Steve was a pretty private person. Whenever he went with Eddie and the boys on tour, he'd wear sunglasses regardless of the actual weather conditions. Sometimes even a hat if he was really done with nosy reporters trying to figure out what his connection to Corroded Coffins lead singer was.

But it's been a long time since '89 when the band first took off and in the glorious year of 1999 they were finally outed by a reporter disguised as a waiter at the restaurant they were eating at and got a picture of them kissing if the corner of the private booth they were hiding in. Sales and the band's popularity took a hit sure, but so many new fans, freaks and outcasts and people just like them filled the void that they actually bounced back with more popularity than ever before. So Eddie and Steve agreed to do an interview on a daytime talk show, set the record straight and talk about themselves and their relationship openly for the first time. They talked about how high school cliques nearly kept them apart, but the spring break of '86, for all its tragedy and death and near death, brought them together and they worked hard to stay together. A true love story if there ever was one. It was freeing actually, finally being able to be open and Out, and if their love helped people, that was just a bonus.

Which is how no one, not even Eddie or the band knew about Steve's voice. He'd never been a singer, too insecure and beaten down to trust that he was actually good at something besides swinging a bat (and an ax, and Molotov cocktails). It was something he was working on, but change doesn't happen overnight and even now, in his early thirties, he still had never revealed his hidden talent to anyone other than Robin. And like, it's not like she ever said anything either! They sang sometimes back when they lived in each other's back pocket and she never said he was good, so he just assumed he was not terrible! Maybe the fact that she had a crush on Tammy Thompson and her 'muppet giving birth' singing should have been a clue. Steve just thought love made you blind.

So when, during the encore performance of Corroded Coffins latest show, Eddie gestures to him to come on stage, Steve tried to refuse at first. He waved him off laughing, but Eddie was persistent and the crowd caught on, chanting his name to come onstage. So he gave in, and god did he stick out like a sore thumb, light washed Levi's with a navy Henley, glasses on cause he had a migraine the day before from squinting at everything, it the crowd still cheered when he appeared, Eddie smiled at him all dimples and the guys gave an exaggerated slow clap at finally getting him onstage.

Eddie took his hand, the other one still holding his mike, and the band started up a cover of Tainted Love, one of the few songs that both Eddie and Steve agreed kicked ass. Maybe the lyrics didn't really reflect how they feel for each other, but watching Eddie sing to Steve, there was no doubt the man was very much in love. And when he held up the mike to Steve on the second chorus, Steve couldn't help but sing.

And oh, how Eddie's face dropped into open mouth shock, Steve had to catch his hand to keep the mike level. A quick glance showed the rest of the boys looked just as shocked, the music only continuing by pure muscle memory. Steve almost stopped singing, panicked that he was ruining the show with his voice, but the crowd was going wild and he could see the cameras flashing, and Eddie, Eddie was coming in close, the chorus over and he leaned in to Steve's ear and shouted, "don't stop!" So he didn't. And they finished the song together and thank god it was the last song in their set. So when Eddie pulled away and gave his goodbye with the rest of the band, Steve quickly walked offstage and headed to the green room, heart pounding a mile a minute.

It wasn't too long before the rest of the band piled in, and Eddie ran right to him, grabbing his face and kissing him hard.

Finally pulling away after too short a time, Eddie beamed at him. "How the fuck did I not know that you can sing?!"

Mind still a little scrambled from the kiss, Steve took a moment to answer. "Huh?"

Not the most eloquent, but he was still reeling from the loss of those lips against his own.

"Yeah man, when Ed said he was gonna pull you on stage, not gonna lie, I thought you were gonna sound awful." Garath said, earning a smack on the head from Jeff and Martin (unnamed freak).

"Not how I would've put it, but, I thought there was a reason you never sang with us before. So yeah, that was an unexpected surprise." Jeff smoothed over, knowing that so sometimes Steve's insecurities got the better if him, having mediated several fights between him and Eddie in the past.

"Holy shit baby, you were so good! I almost didn't remember to sing cause I was too busy falling even more in love with the most perfect man on earth!" Eddie gushed, gently shaking Steve by his shoulders.

"Cute, but also, get a room guys." Martin laughed. "But seriously Steve, you have a good voice. I don't know why we've been hiring background singers for some of our songs when we could've just had you do it instead."

"Oh, well, I-I don't know. I never thought I was a good singer yeah? Not for like, performing? I just wanted to kinda, ride the high of tonight, if that makes sense." Steve said, blushing and a little overwhelmed at the attention, but trying to embrace it and take the genuine compliments he was getting (something he struggled to do on a daily basis, neglectful parents having left their mark).

"First of all, bite me Martin," throwing his band mate the finger, Eddie was still beaming which softened the blow, the others laughing at him. "and second, Stevie, baby, you sound amazing! Light, but still raspy and sexy as hell." Giving him a peck on the cheek, Eddie whispered in his ear. "Gonna sing for me later big boy? In bed maybe?"

And what could Steve say to that? So he just pulled Eddie in for more kisses, deepening them regardless of the guys complaining.

The next day, the picture that was making waves in the music community was of Steve singing into the mike, Eddie looking at him with starts in his eyes and his face completely lovestruck.

@steddieassheg0es @oakenorcrist

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #dont @ me for the song choice #i went with the first thing that popped into my head #my writing

[idesofrevolution]

Party Animal

Danny smiled his signature perfect smile, posing stereotypically as the phone sat propped up on a sidewalk trashcan with a timed camera counting down. While it was his 21st birthday, and he'd invited nearly twenty people to come out clubbing with him in New York City, he wasn't entirely shocked when everyone had some lame excuse as to why they couldn't come. Victoria was in the middle of watching Yellowjackets and couldn't be bothered to get up off her couch. Taylor was stuck at the airport in Nashville, unable to board his connecting flight due to "inclement weather." Felicity couldn't find a dog sitter for the night (bullshit), and Kyle just didn't even respond to the text. This was relatively par for the course for poor Danny, who'd gotten all but used to the feeling of his "friends" ditching him when it was plans of his own.

There were absolutely reasons in their mind as to why going out with Danny was less than an ideal evening: he was a wallflower. Sure, like everyone else in his small town, he had a fake ID. So one would assume that his relative experience in bars would at least teach him something about how to have a good time in one. Unfortunately, this was certainly not the case. Danny was the friend who would get to the bar, order two Long Islands and drunkenly cry for the rest of the night. He couldn't hold his liquor, he couldn't hit a joint without having a fifteen minute coughing spell, his moves on the dancefloor were generously described as "cringe," he would leave early and complain about it the next day. Yet, without fail, the next weekend would roll about and he would be the first one in line at open. His messy party ways had completely eradicated any chance of an entourage going with him, even on his birthday. Thus, as he posed rather stereotypically on the side of West 17th Street, alone and underdressed for his first gay nightclub of legal age, there was a level of disappointment.

Chelsea was bustling that evening, with stunning people in outrageously skimpy outfits strutting from building to building. All were in their little cliques huddles together until they made it to the doorman, where they'd quickly disperse into the drunken crowd within. Guys like him were the ones standing in line, waiting for someone to leave so they could have a chance of getting in; wallflowers, all of them. Thus, as he finally arrived at the club he'd heard so much about on every gay travel blog imaginable, he wasn't shocked to receive a quick look up and down from the bouncer and a head shaking no. Dejected, alone, and not even buzzed, Danny pulled out his phone to call the Uber back to his hotel. That is, until he felt a subtle tap on his shoulder. He sighed and turned around, locking eyes with an unexpected but very welcome sight.

He was tall, maybe 6'4 in a cutoff white tank top, a golden chain hanging from just beneath his nipples. His abs sat like the cobblestones on the street against his chiseled torso, flanked on either side by two huge, vascular arms. His fly was undone, with his thumbs suggestively holding it open. He had a gentle, yet sultry face: perfectly manicured facial hair and sweaty, wavy curls atop his head. He smiled as he leaned against the wall, illuminated brightly by the streetlight above them both.

"Baby you're not gettin' in looking like that." He had a thick accent, perhaps Cuban or Dominican, but it rolled off his supple lips like the drool which had begun to slightly dribble down Danny's jaw. The man smiled and ruffled his hair, getting ready to walk back into the club.

"Hey! Uh... I really like your outfit. You wear it really... really well." The stud turned back, a small chuckle under his breath.

"Thank you baby! I wasn't sure about the chain, but it draws attention to all the right places, am I right?" He ran his large hands over his abs, winking at the salivating 21 year old. "I'm Mateo, by the way." The two shook hands, Danny barely able to contain himself.

"So, you come out to these clubs often? It's my first time in the city. My twenty first birthday, actually." Mateo's face lit up. Tossing his arm around Danny's shoulder, he leaned in close to hopefully be heard above the hustle and bustle of the chattering crowd outside. Danny blushed. He could feel the heat from Mateo's pit on the nape of his neck, the smell of wet armpit after a night of dancing tickling the hairs in his nostrils.

"Where's your party? You better not be out here alone on a Saturday night!" Danny looked down, trying to hide the thirst which had overtaken him.

"Ahh, they all cancelled. It's just me tonight." Danny felt an immediate yank, as Mateo squeezed him tightly against his pillowy pecs.

"Nahh. It's just you and ME tonight. C'mon." Mateo began guiding Danny down the street, chatting about the nightlife in New York City, how it's better than anywhere else, how it has the hottest guys and the best vibes. Mateo had been a staple of the ballroom scene for a couple years at that point, and was well acquainted with the bars and their owners. Any place of any note, he'd be able to waltz right in. Though in this instance, he decided to do something special for this little guy who he'd found meandering the streets. "It's definitely an in-the-know kinda place, if you know what I mean. And you're not getting in wearing that, so I guess we're just going to have to get you a birthday present." The two strolled up to a relatively inconspicuous apartment building, Mateo flashing his card to open the heavy metal door. Two flights up and ten doors down the hall, Mateo opened the door to his apartment. It was tidy for the most part. Plants sat on every imaginable surface, even hanging in macrame slings from the popcorn ceiling. Mateo flipped the lights on in his bedroom and opened his closet door.

"Uhhh, what are you looking for?" Danny nervously shuffled from side to side. This wasn't going to be one of those makeover scenes a la Clueless, was it? Mateo flashed several articles of clothing in front of his face, each vastly different from the one before: leather pants, a silk button up, a ripped up tank top, a latex polo... Under his breath, Danny could hear the quiet mutterings Mateo whispered after each one. Too young, too bulky, too preppy, too kinky.

"Hey. Like what's the vibe you're going for? If some hot guy walked up to you and was looking you up and down, what would you want him to see in a perfect world?" Danny sat there a moment, pondering. He wasn't entirely sure. He'd never thought about it. Closing his eyes, he tried to go back to his days of fantasizing about what a perfect Danny would look like. What he'd always wanted to look like. Though, for him, those days were far behind him. The years of being ditched and cast aside, while he understood why, had taken a toll on him. He'd only ever seen himself as that annoying friend who ruins the mood. Danny shuffled his feet beneath him, hanging his head.

"I don't know... just not... this." He motioned up and down, alluding to the rather sad appearance he'd taken on. Mateo stopped what he was doing, chucking a pair of sunglasses at the frowning young man, hitting him square on the nose.

"You stop that. This is not a pity party, it's a birthday party." Danny nodded, picking up the sunglasses from his feet: Balenciaga. "You know what you need? You need a confidence boost." Mateo pinched his chin, analyzing his closet. "And I have just the thing." It was like a frenzy. Within seconds, clothes were being tossed at him. Looking down at them, he anxiously investigated them. A long, almost see through tank top, a well worn sleeveless leather jacket, and a pair of wide, baggy pants- all of which about two sizes too big.

"Uh, hey, I really appreciate it but I don't think I'm gonna fi..." Mateo had plopped a heavy pair of beat up combat boots on top of the pile in his hands, nearly spilling the whole outfit out of Danny's arms.

"Shut up and go put this on, I promise you'll look great." Sighing, he started headed toward the bathroom, only for Mateo to stop him. "Here, just..." Mateo grabbed the wrists of Danny's shirt, pulling the gaudy top off his frail body. Snatching the tank top from the pile, he ripped it off the hanger and slipped it over his arms and head. The shit was undoubtedly massive on him. Danny was after all 5'4 and 100 lbs soaking wet, the tall hunk which stood before him would obviously be wearing way larger clothes than him. "Arms back!" Mateo slid the sleeveless leather jacket onto him. Danny could smell that this item was well loved, catching a subtle hint of weed, cigarettes, and sweat gently wafting from it. "Pants off!" He directed, Danny followed. Pulling his skinny black jeans down to his ankles, and taking off his brown loafers. He stood before Mateo in his whitey-tidies, and an unimpressive flat bulge. "Yeah, take 'em off and burn them. Besides, easier access for the lucky guy later tonight." He winked, causing Danny to blush. Any time his gal-pals had tried to do a makeover it always ended in a trip to Hollister or Abercrombie to look like every straight high schooler in 2013. He'd never had a guy, let alone a gay guy take the time to dress him. His guard finally down, he dropped them, quickly snatching the lightweight pants and pulling them up his legs, tightly pulling the drawstrings to keep them up.

Mateo looked him up and down, clearly thinking about what was missing as Danny slid his feet into the massive boots, feeling the squish of gogo boy sweat bubbling up onto his soles. Mateo snapped his fingers, grabbing the sunglasses and sliding them onto his face. Danny couldn't deny feeling cool in these ill-fitting clothes, whether or not he felt hot in them or not- if this sexy club kid thought he looked good he probably did.

"Awesome, here, take this bag. Happy Birthday, we gotta go!" Danny didn't even get a chance to peer into the mirror before a large leather bag was tossed at him and he was pushed out the door. He tripped over the baggy pants dragging on the ground, and the clunky boots which slid around on his now damp feet. "You look great," Mateo said as they hopped down the stairs. "I got just the place to take you."

The two walked for perhaps only a block or two before they turned into a dark alley, only a single red lamp far down the brick walled canyon illuminating the surroundings. They strutted up to the rusted metal door, Mateo knocking only three times before it swung open. The huge bouncer blocked the door with his arms crossed, though the moment he saw Mateo, he silently stepped aside. Thrust inside from behind, Danny entered the club.

From then on, the night was a blur. The few moments of clarity and recollection told quite the story. The club was packed, sexy guys dancing on eachother, gogo boys on the bar, discarded ecstasy pills littering the floor brightly glowing from the blacklights. A DJ played derivative beats as they approached the bar. The last clear decision that was made was to take a round of shots.

"Zayn! Could you get us two blowjobs?" Danny turned quickly, shocked at the prospect. He was slightly less anxious when the two cream topped shots were placed in front of them. After a quick birthday toast, the two downed their shots. Immediately, Danny felt an instant release. The nervousness had subsided, and he felt ready to enjoy the evening. He couldn't help but notice, before Mateo had ordered round two, that the sexy bartender seemed to smirk with every shot, heading to the back room for a moment only to come back with two perfect drinks. Round 2 felt just as good as the first, feeling himself smile and sway to the music. It was followed up by round 3, then round 4, then round 5... The shots just kept coming, and by round 7, the world was spinning.

From what little could be recalled, he hit the dance floor with Mateo, showing off the notorious dance moves which had caused him so much grief back home. Though, as the night progressed, he felt the music in a patently distinctive way. Every beat, every note hit differently. His body seemed to just move on its own, his hips swaying, his hands slowly wandering around Mateo's firm waist. The unfittedness of the clothes seemed to dissipate, and they began to feel... right. He liked the way that they showed off his broadening shoulders, his widening biceps... As he dropped, effortlessly pulling off spins and dips, his strong, muscular legs kept him firm in his stance, rooted in the perfectly fitted boots.

He could remember Mateo running his hands over the light tattoos sprawled on his pulsating forearms. He'd even done a few of them himself in his boredom during a relatively crazy shroom trip a few years back. In fact, as the two of them stood there in eachother's arms, looking eye to eye and towering over the dancefloor, he was so grateful that his bestie Mateo would give him such a night out on his birthday. Though, it seemed every year got more and more wild. The two didn't waste any more time. This was going to be a wild birthday, as Mateo planted a deep kiss onto his lips. Their sweaty, muscled arms wrapped around eachother, passionately making out on the dancefloor, before Danny reached into his bag, pulling out the magnum ribbed condom he'd gotten earlier that day, hoping the two would arrive at that point sometime during the night.

Mateo smiled and nodded, the two heading outside to wait for the Uber to take them back to the apartment. As Mateo eagerly tapped away on his phone, Danny leaned against the street pole, thrusting his sizeable package toward his boyfriend.

The next morning, Mateo woke up to an empty bed. Sweaty sheets tossed from one side of the room to the other, the stench of kinky sex still wafting in the air. He rolled out of the stained bed, walking past Danny's still warm, musky combat boots splayed on the hardwood floor. After a night of being railed with his face buried in it's ripe opening, he couldn't help but take a quick whiff down memory lane before going down to the front door. There, perched on the step, in all his blonde, shirtless glory sat Danny smoking his American Spirits.

"Good morning, sexy bitch." His velvety voice soared like the wind to Mateo's eager ear, something about that cocky, confident swagger behind his words always hit just right. He plopped down next to his boyfriend, sensually nibbling on his pierced ear. "Gonna get the neighbors all hot and bothered." Danny chided, Mateo knowing full well he loved being seen in even more compromising positions by anyone who stumbled across them.

"That's the idea." The two laughed and kissed, hoping old Mrs. Prallatt across the street was huffing and puffing in an indignant rage. "Hey the house is performing later tonight in the Bowery, I think you should show off the new number. Kick the LaBeija's ass off the floor." Smirking, Danny took a long drag and let out a large cloud of smoke before turning to Mateo.

"They don't stand a chance." Mateo stood up, kissing Danny's smooth hand before getting ready to head back up to get dressed for the day. "Hey, babe." Mateo turned and looked down at the beautiful creature which had been the wildest ride he'd ever taken. "How about you take those sweats off and I show you a couple more moves before we head out?" A strong grope of Mateo's growing bulge and a wink from behind his Balenciaga shades was all that his man needed to see.

#male transformation #body transformation #original #transformation #musk #gay transformation #clothing tf #male tf #ballroom #gay tf #confidence boost #boyfriend transformation #tattoos

[loveharlow]

Hi! Can you please write anything about ajax there aren't enough fics about him 🙏🙏

SHE FELL FIRST

PAIRING‧₊˚ Ajax Petropolus x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚ [3.6k] Y/n was under the impression she had been building a genuine relationship with Ajax, until she finds out the truth, one she isn't sure that she can forgive.

WARNING(S)‧₊˚ swearing, angst (so much fkn angst bro), it's just dramatic and sad guys, moments of fluff, it's a trope that we hate and love, hate me now love me later, pre-Wednesday's arrival, mentions of Bianca Barclay x Xavier Thorpe

A/N‧₊˚ Anon, you are so right. I see a lot of people talk about him but there's so little writing for him, it makes me heart hurt. BUT, I made this sad because there isn't enough heart-wrenching angst for him.

˗ˏˋ ajax masterlist ˎˊ˗

SOMETIMES, YOU QUESTIONED HOW NAIVE ONE PERSON COULD POSSIBLY BE. You, specifically. You were questioning yourself. How naive could you be to think it was real? How stupid did you have to be to believe that someone could actually feel something for you? Actually be in love with you? Weeks ago, you would’ve taken the thought to heart and cherished it — being enveloped with the warm feeling of love at the thought of knowing you had someone. Knowing you had him.

Now, here you were. Sat on your bed in your dorm, crying like a widow while soaked from the rain outside. Now, the thought itself puts a bitter taste in your mouth accompanied by a stinging sensation in your chest. 

Reminiscing on the past few weeks of your life had you questioning everything about yourself. You thought it was real…

3 MONTHS AGO

“Y/N!” You could hear your name being bellowed in the halls, turning around slowly to try and spot the face behind the voice. Your wide eyes stopped on an out of breath Ajax down the hall, hands on his knees and face flushed as you caught glimpses of him through the bustling crowd. He used one lazy hand to wave you over as he stood up and straightened out his school blazer.

Cocking an eyebrow and small smirk as you made your way to him, pushing your way through the crowd until you two were standing face to face. “How can I help you?” You said in a fake sophisticated tone.

Ajax palmed the back of his neck, looking around nervously. He chuckled skittishly before stepping closer to be more within your hearing range, the chatter in the halls growing louder as others gathered with their friends and respective cliques. “I was just wondering if you wanted to go out with me this weekend? Not like we usually do. As a...date?"

You stood in place for a few moments, lips parted in disbelief. You had to stop yourself from looking around for the cameras, thinking this was some kind of prank. It may sound childish but you couldn’t process the fact that Ajax, your best friend and guy you've had a huge thing for since you arrived at Nevermore, was asking you out on a real date.

“Y/N?” He tilted his head at your lack of response. Blinking to bring yourself back, you smiled bashfully, looking down at your shoes.

“Yeah. Yeah, that’d be cool. That would be great.” You said, looking up at him through your lashes with a bright smile. An equally nervous but anticipating grin on his face, both of you breaking out into a small fit of chuckles. 

All of a sudden, the bell signaling the transition to your next class rang throughout the school, both of you looking away before turning back to one another.

“I’ll, uh, I'll text you. Alright?” Ajax spoke happily while walking backwards.

You nodded happily in agreement, straightening out your tote bag over your shoulder. “Bye, Jax.” You spoke while turning your back to him to head off towards your class. You couldn’t wipe the bright look off of your face the entire way there.

2 MONTHS AGO 

“Xavier, wait up!” You called out in the yard in the back of the school, running up to the long-haired boy as he turned to see you coming towards him.

“What’s up?” He asked casually, pocketing his phone. You pulled the blue garment out of your tote bag and held it out to him as he hesitantly put his hands on it.

“Can you give this back to Ajax? He left it in my dorm. I can’t find him but you guys have your next class together, right?”

“Yeah, we do.” He spoke vaguely. Seeing the perplexed expression written all over your face, he pointed behind you. “But there goes your boy right there.” 

You turned your head to find Ajax heading towards the both of you with his signature smile, the sun beaming on him made him.

When he came to stand in front of you and Xavier, he adjusted the backpack strap on his shoulder. “Hey.” He greeted, tilting his head up in greeting as he and Xavier did some kind of handshake and his hand wound around your waist as he pecked you on the lips.

Xavier let out an exaggerated moan of disgust. “Get a fucking room.” Was all he said before walking off, Ajax and yourself finding amusement in his behavior. You knew it was all jokes, most of the time anyway. Ajax untangled himself from your frame to look at you directly.

“Here,” You piped up, shoving the hoodie in his direction as his hands came down to grab it. “Left it in my dorm.”

He drew his lips into a thin line before letting his bag slide down his arms, unzipping and stuffing the item inside. “Thanks, babe. I was looking for it all morning. Figured I must’ve left it.”

The pet name made your heart jump. He'd never called you anything out of your name before. It must've slipped.

When he zipped his bag back up and slung it over his shoulder once again, You wasted no time in throwing your arms around his neck, his hands planting themselves on your lower back and pulling your in closer as he licked his lips. 

He swiftly dipped his head down to attach his lips to your own, engulfing you in a deep kiss.

Ever since your date, things had been moving pretty fast. You certainly didn’t have any complaints, though. You were happy. Happier than you could have ever imagined. Ajax was everything you'd imagined him to be and more — he was a great best friend and an even better boyfriend. You didn’t think you'd ever get to experience such a tender feeling and he was giving you that. 

You broke the kiss when you began to run out of air, seeing Enid trail across the yard before cupping her hands around her mouth. “Get a room, hornballs!” She hollered playfully before you flipped her off behind Ajax’s head, hearing her giggle as she walked away, Ajax and yourself laughed as you rested your foreheads against one another. 

“Will I see you later?” You asked quietly, one of your hands now playing with the purple tie around his neck.

“Do you want to see me later?” He bantered, rubbing his hands up and down your back as you rolled your eyes and pushed his head away from yours. Scoffing, yet you couldn’t help the smile he brought to your face. 

“I was asking because I had a surprise for you. But if you’re busy-”

“Ooh, what is it?”

“If I tell you then it’s not much of a surprise, Jax.”

“Yeah, it is. I can just act totally shocked. I’m great at acting.”

“Sure you are. And Nevermore is a school for perfectly normal kids.” I quipped. “But seriously, I got a movie for us to watch and managed to get a projector. I was hoping we could sneak off later. Like a mini-date.”

Ajax beamed and wasted no time wrapping his arms around you in a bear-hug. “Aww, she does love me.” Your body went into shock for a brief moment. Love. You hadn’t used that word. Not formally. He was your best friend, so of course you'd said you loved him before. But it had a whole new meaning to it, now.

It had a bigger meaning to it. You don’t even think he realized he said it. One month into a relationship was too early to say ‘I love you’. But, this wasn’t some guy you'd met a month ago and clicked with. It was Ajax. So, you let my shoulders fall and let the anxious feeling leave your body.

Patting his back as he refused to let you go. “Yeah, I do.”

1 MONTH AGO 

Bianca was having a small get together for the Nightshades. The small club was presumed to be disbanded so you all didn’t have many duties to fulfill.

The group of you had gotten together, had a few drinks from a bottle that Xavier managed to snag on one of your trips to Jericho.

You were in the library behind the statue, it was practically soundproof behind that thing so the music was blasting — cups littered the floor, chips and fruit on the desk that was being used as a table.

Yoko, Kent, And Divina were talking amongst themselves, cups in their hands and passing around a joint Ajax had rolled. Rowan was in the corner, bobbing his head to music and tossing chips into his mouth. You'd come to learn that he wasn’t the most social but you all still appreciated him regardless and left him to do his own thing most of the time. If he wanted to join in, he would. 

Bianca, Xavier, Ajax, and you were dancing casually to the music and talking to each other — getting particularly hype when a really good song would come on. Bianca and Xavier had gotten together not long after you and Ajax, it was fun being able to go on double dates. Especially since you were already friends.

When a song that Ajax and yourself both recognized came on, you both beamed at one another, Ajax letting out an excited ‘ooh!’. 

He stuck one hand out, palm side up and curled it to motion you closer with a tipsy smile on his face. “C’mon, baby. Don’t act like you don’t know this one.”

You dismissed him jokingly and took his hand as he spun you around one good time. When you came face to face once more, you raised a cocky eyebrow at your giddy boyfriend. “Oh, I know this one. Let’s see if you do.” You taunted with your chin up and a playful expression.

You laughed, along with the rest of our friends, as Ajax and yourself made a drunken fool of yourselves. The two of you were having fun so, you didn’t care. Him spinning you dizzy when the slower songs came on, you grinding your backside into him with his hands on your hips while Bianca hyped you up when the more upbeat ones played. 

At some point, a song from a musical had ended up on the playlist — Jax and you mouthing the parts to one another.

Eventually, you all tired out. Bidding farewell and goodnight as you left the library, cleaning up what you all could and promising to pick up the rest tomorrow. 

Ajax and yourself were the last ones to leave. Weems had been really strict about the dorms recently so you two hadn’t been sleeping in each other’s rooms as often. Leaving the library, hand-in-hand as Ajax insisted on walking you to your dorm, the night air was cool and swept a nice breeze over your exhausted bodies.

You released your hand from where it was threaded through his arms and held his arm instead, leaning your head against his bicep. The more you walked, the more tired you became — yawning as the two of you reached the entrance to Ophelia Hall. 

Coming to stand in front of the doors, you released his arm and turned to face him. He looked as tired as you felt. You brought your sweatshirt covered arms up to wind around his neck, pulling him in for a goodnight kiss. It was lazy and tired but it still made you feel warm and loved and one of his hands came up to caress your arm as you carried on with the loving exchange.

When your lips parted, you tipped your head to kiss his cheek. “I love you.” You muttered, looking up into his eyes as you backed away slightly, letting your arms fall from around his neck.

He smiled fondly and brought his hand up to your cheek, leaning in to plant a gentle kiss on your forehead. “I love you, too.” He replied genuinely. His voice sounds shaky, almost as if he might cry. You couldn’t quite place why.

When he retreated to stand in front of you, you could see it. He looked sad. “What’s wrong?” You asked gently, reaching out to touch his arm.

He just smiled down at you and shrugged. “Nothing. I just,” He paused to scan your face. “I just don’t want to lose you.”

You sighed and smiled back at him tiredly. “I don’t want to lose you, either.” You reassured. “But you won’t. I won’t. We’re in it forever, right?”

He nodded shortly, threading his fingers through your own. “Forever.” He spoke, both of you giggling sleepily. 

“Goodnight, Jax.” You spoke, letting his fingers fall from yours as you went to enter my hall. 

1 HOUR AGO

“Y/N!” You lifted your head at the sound of your name being bellowed throughout the courtyard rather aggressively. The school day had ended a couple hours ago and you were studying by the fountain. 

You looked up to see a clearly furious Bianca storming towards you, a frantic Xavier trailing behind her while desperately trying to match her pace.

“Bianca, don’t.” He tried. 

She stopped in her tracks, whipping around to face the boy. “Or what, Xavier? She deserves to know and things can’t get any worse than you’ve already made them.” She spat angrily, turning to face you once more.

“It's not about me. B, don't show her-” 

“Shut the hell up.” She silenced Xavier’s worried voice once more. 

You had no idea as to what was going on. You didn’t know why Bianca was so upset and why Xavier looked like he was about to burst into tears.

Suddenly, Bianca was sticking out her hand to you — a small piece of crumpled paper in her palm. Picking up the scrappy item, you looked up at the girl as she spoke.

“We were a bet.” She spoke matter-of-factly. You could see the pure anger burning behind her eyes and Xavier stood behind her tugging at his hair and cursing to himself.

Unraveling the paper, there was a list of names and dares.

Xavier: Get with the most popular girl before homecoming.

That’s how the list started. Her anger was making sense now. But Bianca said we were a bet. Not her. We. And then you saw it. And God, you wish you hadn’t.

Ajax: Make your best friend fall in love with you before the semester is over. 

You couldn't describe how you felt. Angry? Upset? Betrayed? All of the above? None of them? You didn’t want to believe it. But you were holding the proof in your hands. Bianca had no reason to lie and Xavier was never one to be worried.

Nothing felt right.

You didn’t even realize your fingers were shaking around the paper. You didn’t feel the tears leave your eyes until one landed on the paper. 

“Everything they said, everything they did,” Bianca started, arms across her chest but you could see tears brimming in her own eyes. “It was all a lie. It was a game to them. I guess we’re lucky that the assholes were stupid enough to write it all down.” She spoke spitefully, giving a deadly glare to the boy behind her who looked at you pitifully.

It didn’t click in your head instantly. You didn’t register what it meant immediately but when You did? It hit you like a freight train. It wasn’t real.

None of it was ever. Fucking. Real. 

You felt the way your eyebrows cramped together and your jaw clenched in anger. Your fist closing around the paper, hearing it condense in on itself as you directed your fiery gaze to Xavier’s.

What you didn’t expect to see was Ajax standing right behind him. Out of breath from running and an expression on his face that told you that he knew that it was too late.

You walked towards the boys only to slap the paper against Ajax’s chest without a word on your way out. “Y/N..." He tried, grabbing your upper arm only to be harshly shrugged off.

“Don't fucking touch me.” You spat harshly without looking back or faltering in your step as you felt burning, hot tears trail down your cheeks.

And of course, on your angry trek to Ophelia Hall it just had to start pouring rain. Of course.

NOW

Soaked in rain, not caring that it got on your mattress, you just sat there thinking. The last three months were nothing but lies. Lies on top of lies. And for what?

You were pulled from your racing thoughts at the sound of a knock on your door. “Y/N?” A muffled voice traveled.

There was no way he had the audacity to come after you after what happened. There was no way.

You pushed yourself up off of the bed furiously, storming over to the door. He, no doubt, could hear your booming footsteps but you couldn’t care less. You twisted the knob like a madman and swung the door open, a gust of wind welcoming itself inside.

He was met with the sight of your wet, drenched frame — eyes and cheeks red and swollen. 

“What are you here for?” You didn’t even give him a chance to speak. “What else could you possibly want from me?”

He stuttered looking for the right words to say. But he couldn’t. There was nothing he could say to make this better. Nothing he could say to make this go away. “I’m s-

“Don’t you fucking dare say ‘I’m sorry’.” You spat, letting go of the door to step closer to him. “You are out of your mind if you think you’re going to stand here and try to get out of this with an goddamn apology.”

“I can explain. I can explain it all, I swear.” He spoke frantically.

“There’s nothing to explain!” You spoke incredulously, the tears still rolling. “You made a bet. And you won a bet. Because that’s all I was to you, right? A name to cross out-”

“No. Never. Y/N, you mean everything to me-”

“How can you say that?!” You cried. “How can you honestly stand here and say that to me, Ajax?”

“Because I mean it!” He shouted, you only now noticing the tears in his own eyes. “It started as a bet, okay? Yes, it did. I won't lie to you. But after the date, after everything. I fell in love with you. I did, I swear I did. I am in love with you. I made a stupid decision and I’m a fucked up person for it, I know that. But you need to know that it was real. Everything I said, everything I did, I meant it. When I said I loved you I meant it, I still mean it. I will always mean it. Y/N, please…”  He pleaded.

You sniffed and crossed your arms over your chest protectively. “You shouldn’t have taken the bet in the first place. Hell, why the fuck was it even made to begin with? We were best friends. I would have never done this to you." You spoke. "You didn’t care then, and you don’t care now. You didn’t love me then, and you most certainly do not love me now-”

“Don’t say that.”

“Why not?” You strained, looking him directly in the eyes as he wiped a hand down his face. “It’s the truth, isn't it?”

“It isn’t!” He tried again. “Are you listening to me?! I love you.” 

“I can’t trust you!” You cried, the tears pouring at this point, the saltiness leaking down to your lips. "What does it matter if you love me if I can't trust you?"

The room went silent and still as you stood in the sadness and pity of the situation you'd found yourselves in. That was until you spoke up — a certain revelation burning on you tongue.

“The night you walked me back, after the party in the library,” You started, voice shaking with emotion. “The look you had when I asked you what was wrong — it wasn’t because you were afraid to lose me. It was because you knew you already had. You knew you couldn’t hide the truth from me forever and you knew, that at some point, it would all come crashing. You had that look in your eyes because you knew we were over from the moment you asked me on that date. You just thought you would have more time to figure out how to break it to me.” You proposed sassily with an air of hurt and anger. “That sound about right?”

He remained silent, trying to suppress his own sobs. 

You nodded and threw my shoulders up through my emotions, prodding the inside of your cheek with your tongue. “Thought so.”

“Y/n, you have to understand-”

“Oh, I understand. I understand it all just fine. You fucked over your friend, someone who cared about you and loved you, for nothing. And now, you have to live with that guilt.”

He sniffled and put a hand atop his beanie in frustration. “You didn’t deserve that. And you’re right. About everything. But I can't leave with you thinking everything was fake. I won't. It was all real. Just tell me that you believe that. Tell me that, please.”

You remained silent in contemplation looking down at your shoes.

“Y/N, please. Please, forgive me.” He pleaded, voice quivering.

“I believe you.” You stated truthfully. “But that doesn’t make this okay, it doesn’t make any of this okay. It also doesn’t mean I forgive you. Because I don’t, and maybe I never will.”

He nodded. You could tell it wasn’t what he wanted to hear but it was the truth. He turned to leave, most likely sensing that you needed time to yourself and the last thing you wanted was him here. But he paused in his steps, turning back to you again.

“Do you think that we could ever be an ‘us’ again?” He asked sorrowfully. 

“Ajax,” You sighed, woe rising in your throat once again. “I don’t even know if I’ll ever trust you again.”

You could see the pure wretchedness well in his eyes but he brought this upon himself. The pain he was feeling was bestowed upon both of you but inflicted by only one of you. And you both had to deal with it. Without each other. Away from one another.

“I’ll see you around.” He said despondently, stepping outside of the door frame and turning his body away from you.

“For both our sakes, let’s hope you don’t.”

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.

©loveharlow

#ajax petropolus x you #ajax x reader #ajax petropolus wednesday addams #ajax petropolus wednesday #ajax petropolus #ajax petropolus x normie!reader #ajax x xavier #ajax petropolus x reader #ajax petropolus x fem!reader #wednesday characters x reader #wednesday netflix #wednesday fanfic #ajax petropolus x y/n #ajax petropolis x reader

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💚👻Yan!Harold Biddle Hc's💚👻

"Viewer beware, you're in for a scare."

18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: Yandere themes, dark behavior, possession, general spooks, serial killer, bullying, angst teen ghost boy?

AN: Requested by an Anon, this man has me down so bad, and I hope this inspires others to write for him. I love both old and new goosebumps media, and how our reader meets Harold is VERY similar to the goosebumps TV show episode 'The Phantom of the Opera'. Enjoy and happy belated Halloween! Go watch Goosebumps on Disney ➕️. Never done an HC before...

👻💚👻💚👻💚👻💚👻💚👻💚👻💚👻💚👻💚

💚In a situation for Harold to grow truly attached to someone, you would have to be from out of town, or visiting a family member, perhaps. Harold is filled with such hatred for his former classmates and there spawn, that even those who didn't kill him, he knows stood idly by and ignored him in school. Because of this, he probably wouldn't want the son or daughter of a former classmate.

👻Maybe you moved to Port Lawrence with your family, whether for work or a fresh start, or maybe your a distant cousin of one of the people in town. As long as you aren't a direct descendant, Harold will have an easier time coming to terms with these feelings.

💚Being new in town was hard for you, nerve wracking even. Everyone at this school seemed to have a clique or group, and even the loners had their own things going on. Luckily, you caught wind through overhearing some classmates that a party was being held on Halloween night. Hoping to make some real friends, you donned a costume and set out.

👻The address had been kind of hard to find, some old, blocked off road with a creepy mansion at the end. Still, the party was in full swing, teens dancing and drinking, strobe lights and shitty music filled the main room of the house. You asked one of your classmates, Lucas, about the house.

"Oh, yeah. Some kid died here like, a hundred years ago or something. Big explosions, a fire..." A skinnier boy in a cat costume cut him off. "Don't listen to Lucas, it wasn't a hundred years ago, dude. It was like, the 90s." He rolls his eyes.

💚A little uneasy about sneaking into a house, much more the site of a gruesome death, you tried to enjoy the party. After a few drinks, Dr. Pepper, you weren't trying to call your parents to take you home, you went looking for a bathroom.

This would prove pretty difficult. That same boy from earlier, Lucas, ate worms, and was puking in bathroom number one. The second bathroom was locked, and from the groaning and smacking inside, you could tell you didn't want to know what was going on inside.

👻This had left you with not choice but to go to the bathroom in the basement. Standing at the edge of the stairs and looking down the dark hallway, floored with rickety wooden steps, you had gathered your courage and descended.

💚Biddle had expected company, but unlike the mask he coerced Isabella into taking, or the camera he snuck in Isaac's bag, you didn't take anything. He waited for another, foolish teen to take something. He had a few items set out for specific peoples... but, he wasn't against another thief falling victim to his cursed items.

👻However, you surprised him. Just looked for the bathroom door, went, and then headed right back up to the party. When Mr. Bratt came home, the teens scattered, to cars and into the woods. Harold used this time to torment Allison, his burned, ghostly form shrieking at her. She had screamed in terror, and Isaiah soon found her.

💚You were driving home, but took pity and stopped to help a few of your classmates whose rides had fled. After several hours of dropping people off, you were finally able to get back home. A pair of pale ghostly eyes watched you from the window of your room. No one else had stopped to help their friends, much less strangers. How nice you were...

💚As days went by, and mysterious terrors afflicted the teens of Port Lawrence, you grew close to some of them. A busy body named Margot, a cheer leader named Allison, and a jock named Isaiah. All shared and English class with the new teacher (and owner of the Biddle house), Mr. Bratt. Mr. Bratt was odder at sometimes than others, almost like he was fighting with himself. He was always tired and dark eyed.

👻From deep inside, viewing the world through Mr. Bratt, Harold would observe the teens. It was just as he remembered it, the gossip, the catty looks and the fake smiles. But nothing sickened him more than watching you interact with the others, so sweet and kind, but only friends with the filth in this town.

👻On your end, you really liked Mr. Bratt. He was a funny teacher, always cracking jokes and saying something odd. He always gave you perfect grades, which was odd because you noticed you had gotten a few questions wrong when you would compare projects and assignments to classmates. Still, he was a great teacher.

💚Harold wasn't a fool. He had always been smart when he was alive, and his evil intentions had made him no less cunning. He knows he can't pursue you romantically as long as he's possessing a teacher. He'd rather not get his possession vessel arrested and sent to jail. He doesn't want his house empty, not right now.

👻When he heard you had taken up the role of a tech member for the drama department, he formed a plan. The old elevator platform to the schools abandoned basement was 'accidentally' left open, a gaping hole in the dark of the stage.

💚You unfortunately weren't aware of this, and had stayed late to finish some lighting set up. As you close up and turn out the overhead lights, the floor had felt as those it disappeared beneath you. As you plummet, you let out a pitch scream. It wasn't a long fall, not even that deep, but it hurt. Your hips and ankle were aching, throbbing, and red hot tears had begun to stream from your cheeks. You felt to scared to stand or move, but it was late. How were you supposed to get out of here?

👻As you whimpered, you heard a sound in the silence. Just then, a sound from the side. It sounded like a creaking floor panel.

"H-hello? Is someone there?" You called out fearfully. A boy, haired curly and tall looms over you. His eyes have dark circles, his face almost blends into the shadows of the basement, but... you chalk it up to blurry vision and bad lighting.

💚"Aw... how'd you end up down here?" He asked, voice low and slow as he had tilted his head. "I'm on tech crew, I fell. I think my ankle is... twisted or something. Could you help me?" She asks.

"Of course..." he drawled. His eyes darkened and a grin tugged at his cheeks as he said the next statement. "What kind of sick, sick monster would leave someone to die in a basement, all alone?" He said. You gulp and chuckle awkwardly. "Well, it's just my ankle. Don't think I'm dying." You joked.

👻"Course not. Come on." He had extended his hand to you, and hoisted you up against him with surprising strength. Despite the soft flannel shirt he was wearing, his skin felt frigid to the touch, yet oddly warm, an icey burning sensation could be felt where his hand was still on your arm.

"Should be a lever... right over-" he looks around, the snaps his fingers and points. "Right there." You had both hopped on the platform. "How'd you know how to get out of the basement, I heard it's been blocked off like, forever." She asks.

💚"I guess I just, know more than other people." He shrugs. Once he had helped you out of the school, you had gone to your car. Fidgeting with your keys, you faced away from him as you unlocked your car. "What did you say your name was?" You ask.

👻"Doesn't matter. Just a friend." When you turn to him with a confused look, he's gone. You looked around, but tired, you drove from the lot.

💚Back at the Biddle Manor, while Mr. Bratt tried to get a peaceful night of sleep without being possessed for once, Harold is in the basement, playing with the Polaroid camera Isaiah had tried so hard to destroy. He wonders, can it just take normal photos if he wills it too? He has other things to attend too, he can't always watch you, but he'd love a few pictures of you.

👻Even if the camera could only take pictures of your fate, maybe it wouldn't bother him too much. What would the future hold? Would you be with him? He hoped so, but the idea of what he could see that would displease him swayed him away from that path. No, he'll stick to watching you through Bratt, when he can, or through your windows on those precious nights you leave a curtain open.

💚As he sits in the room of his demise, he looks at his hands, black char marks occasionally appearing. For once, he doesn't focus on the burning rage and actual burning feeling that courses through his body. No, this warmth is softer. The warmth from when you touched him and he touched you. Contact, from someone who cared. Someone who he saw every private moment of, just to ensure that you had only pure intentions with everyone you met. Would you betray him if you knew, what he was like, who he was? He shakes his head. No. He holds all the cards now. He won't be weak ever again, he won't let you slip away.

👻💚👻💚👻💚👻💚👻💚👻💚👻💚👻💚👻💚

General bonus hc's:

💚Harold only wears what teens at Port Lawrence high now think of as 'grunge'. Oversized sweatshirt, flannels, loose pants. He has never once brushed his hair, even when he was alive. He doesn't hate that grunge is popular now though. He enjoy leaving a flannel or a Jean jacket in your closet, hoping you'll assume one of your parents gifted it to you.

👻You can always tell when his ghost in nearby, even if he's not visible there are tells, even if you don't realize what they are pointing too. You might feel a stinging if he passes by, a side effect of the pain from his burns. The smell of smoke and dark room chemicals fills the air if he's around, and you feel like your being watched.

💚He'd like to kiss you, or hold you, but he's not ready to even attempt that, much less a real introduction. He's got a lot going on right now. For now, you'll only see him around town, at night when your alone. At a bus stop? Oh, that mysterious boy from the other night us passing by. Buying a snack? He's got some spare cash. Walking home alone at night? Good thing his lanky silhouette can be seen leaning out from under a streetlight. Don't worry, he'll walk you home. You wouldn't believe the sort of monsters that live in this town, that lurk. It's enough to give you goosebumps...

You wonder why you always forget to ask his name...

#yandere #tw.yandere #yandere fanfiction #yandere content #slashers #slasher x reader #goosebumps disney plus #goosebumps media #goosebumps slappy #goosebumps #harold biddle #biddle house #rl stine #goosebumps show #x reader #yandere x reader #yandere ghost #yandere monster #tw.dark content #yandere boy #yandere fanfic

[lordgrimoire]

The Goonion would Like a Word, Chapter 2

“You have GOT to be kidding me.” Samuel Kincaid hissed as he pressed himself flat to an alleyway wall. Along the wall behind him was a dozen Goons, mostly members of the Red Hood Gang and it’s subsidiaries, meaning they were packing some serious heat. But! Kincaid had spotted a Bat, and all of it’s Birds, staking out the building they were about to raid. He thought for a minute before uttering a ‘fuck it’ and turning to his compatriots. “Gonna get their attention, if they’re looking into it...” The mob behind him uttered agreements, some cussing qiuetly as Kincaid picked up a stone and slung it up at the Bats, hiding in the little shadows there were. He was rewarded with the Big Man himself appearing faster than he should have, staring him down as Samuel straightened up slightly.

“Hood tell you about Miss Jazz?” The Batman nodded, still staring at him, his jaw set in a firm line. “Good, we were just gonna storm the place, still gonna, I think a few of us are willing to get bruised up if we can find out what’s going on.” Batman stared at him for a moment, eyeing him and the two dozen men and women behind him. 

“You have ten minutes, if you can avoid killing do so, but I want to be able to obtain information from their files.” Kincaid nodded and turned, everyone gave signs that they understood, from Old Hannson, grey all over and lugging a mean looking baseball bat as old as he was, to the youngest muscle they had, a man boy really named Charles, though he went by Charlie, still wet behind the ears and sporting a blade as long as his forearm. They all knew the new parameters. When he turned around he saw The Batman clamor back onto the rooftops. 

“Alrighty, LETS DO THIS!” The first thing the GIW Guards heard was his shout, they never saw the full force that came spewing out of several alleyways, as the cameras had been hacked and the gate guards had been knocked out by cast stones.

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Bruce stalked through the GIW Facility, it had been better defended than first assumed but Jason’s Gang had been disturbingly well prepared, if faced with a reinforced door they had blasting charges, if faced with armored opponents they brought forward weapons with longer reach, by the time the Bats and Birds arrived in the facility one of the Red Hood Gang’s cliques had gotten to the core of the Outpost and captured the commanding agents, now they just had to gently fight their way to the center, thankfully the Gangsters were quick and quiet enough that there could be plausible deniability, especially when one of them set off a C4 charge to open a new entry into the outpost through which a majority of the Cliques escaped.

Only one group had stuck around, under the headmanship of Samuel Kincaid.

“We found something, looks to be kicking still, don’t know how to open it and help it out.” Bruce nodded, allowing the short man to guide him through the chaos to a room near the center of the Outpost, which had formerly been tenements. Within the clean, VERY bright room they found a cage, and within it was a haggard looking figure that Bruce was struggling to keep an eye on, his shadow seemed to flicker every now and then. 

“Oh great, here to rip more of me off you jackwads? Wait, who are you?” The cage, with glowing green bars that reminded Bruce more of Kryptonite than anything else, shone a light on the blond teen in the cage. 

“I am Batman, do you mind telling me who you are?” Kincaid had vanished as soon as Bruce had nodded to him, the man likely gathering his people to beat a hasty retreat, they already looked rough from their entry into the building.

“Johnny, friends call me Johnny, I call myself Johnny-Thirteen, Your not a Guy in White are ya? Not with them that is?” Bruce huffed slightly as he began searching the cage, looking for a padlock, or even a scanner. 

“Obviously, how’d you get captured?” Johnny flinched slightly as Bruce found the keypad. 

“I promised a friend I’d check out Gotham, it’s a possible safe spot until a new portal to the ‘Realms opens up, hell there might be a proto portal cooking here, I can feel it. But my friend, his parents kicked it, his sis apparently found some good folks out here so I came to take a look, they actually picked me up in Metropolis, thought I was one of the Supers, which is kinda fucked, they had stuff all set up for “Kryptonian Subjects” Yeash!” Bruce found the lock, it was complicated, and there likely wasn’t a key, so he began trying to lockpick it, with both a digital device and the old method.

“Would you’re friends sister happen to be named Jazz?” The Ghost started slightly, eyes frantically staring at him. “Don’t worry, your friend and his family will be safe here. You have my word on it.” Johnny stared at him for a moment before looking around. 

“Do the Camera’s still work?” 

“No, why?” Bruce looked at the now slightly sheepish ghost.

“Well er, Ghosts, we like our secrets, but we like talking about what our living family is up to, how they’re doing, Your Grandfather, He’s proud of you, your parents weren’t near enough Ectoplasm and didn’t become Ghosts, but Old Man Wayne is proud of you, when he found out I’d be coming around he asked me to “Find the Batman, tell him his Grandfather is proud of the man he’s become, and that hopefully I can visit some day.” Guy’s always  creeped me out a bit, though most folks killed by the Court of Owls have some stuff, wrong, with em.” Bruce was floored, sitting completely still for a moment before resuming his work.

“Thank you for the message, do you have anywhere to stay?” Johnny chuffed as he pulled himself out of his squatting pose, pushing the lid of the cage off after hearing it’s click. 

“Not really, Kitty, my girlfriend, she’s around somewhere, I can feel her, sorta, she’s got my bike, we may just hang out, might cause some havoc via teenage rebellion, it’s our schtick.” Bruce raised a brow at him. “Oh don’t be a dad at me like that! Fine, fine, we will try not to break anything, heck we won’t even do possesions, but there will be chaos!” And with that, Johnny vanished, leaving Bruce confused but happy to have freed the Ghost.

----------------------------------------------------------

[Ring Ring, Ring, Ring Ring, Ri-CLICK]

“Hood here, go ahead Kincaid.”

“Hey Boss, we got a new couple of friends from that raid, Bat’s update you?”

“Yeah, I can assume our new Friends are of the Spooky variety?”

“Yessir, Johnny and Kitty, good kids, if distrusting, good reasons to as well. We’ll get em set up, call back when you’re back from your flight, we’ll be comin off our, third maybe fourth raid today by then.” 

“Thank you Kincaid, stay safe out there, these guys don’t follow any rules.”

“Well we’ll just have to chuck ours when they stop following em won’t we? See ya later boss.”

[CLICK]

[Ring Ring Ring, Ring Ring Ring, CLICK]

“Walker Residence, Alicia speaking.”

“Code Wings of Pandora is in effect.”

“Thanks again bub, I’ll tell ‘em.”

“Thank you.”

[CLICK]

#dp x dc #danny phantom #dc x dp #danny fenton #jason todd #batfamily #batman #bruce wayne #damian wayne #gotham #the goonion #johnny 13 #the giw sucks #red hood #The Goonion V The GIW

[raelle-writing]

DFF Theory: It was Fluke's laptop that was used to post the KengNon video

So this theory is that it was Fluke's laptop that was used to post the video of Keng and Non, though Fluke himself likely wasn't the one who posted it. The theory rests on the assumption that while Jin recorded the video, he wasn't the one who posted it in the end. I talk about that more in detail in this post, but the short of it is this:

There's a discrepancy between what is shown on Jin's laptop and what is shown on the screen of the person who posted the video, which is highlighted with these two screenshots:

Along with what Fluke says in episode 4 when he points the finger at Tee for releasing the video when Jin isn't even around. Top corroborates that (though he is, admittedly, crazy/possessed/drugged at the time).

So with that established, the question is: why would Fluke even know who released the video if he wasn't involved? If he wasn't a part of the video being released, then he would naturally assume it was Jin who released it, considering he was right there when Jin filmed the video.

When we're shown the posting, here's what we see. I grabbed two screenshots of them clicking into the video itself, because it feels like they only showed it because the details are important.

So we see Canon and Epson software, then Adobe Suite. And in the second one we see an x-ray. The Canon and Epson as well as Adobe suite COULD point to it being Jin, since we know he's into photography. But it could also point to the person who was helping with the editing and effects of the movie, and who says they're working on the effects? Fluke.

Jin also isn't shown to do much photography so far in the past, except for handling Por's camera. Granted, I won't discount that it could be Jin's laptop given those softwares and the Adobe suite and his later interest in photography. But I think it's equally likely to be Fluke's, given what we know of the two of them so far.

That brings us to the x-ray. This one puzzled me, because it's a hip x-ray. We know Jin has a history of shoulder dislocations so why would he have a hip x-ray? And who would have an x-ray saved on his laptop? Maybe a future medical student?

Fluke isn't shown to talk much about medical school in the past (at least that I found) but he stresses about his portfolio, which implies that he already has his field selected and knows it'll be difficult to get into.

Jin and Fluke are the closest of the friend group, since they're repeatedly shown hanging out one-on-one together. They're always side by side, in almost every shot we see of them. The friend group has some mini-cliques within it, and it's clear that Jin and Fluke are one of them.

Jin also helps with the movie editing, just like Fluke.

I find it pretty easy to believe that Jin and Fluke would share a file storage location, so Fluke would have access to the video just like Jin. Whether just because they're close friends or because of the movie, I'm not sure.

Fluke has always been a bystander. He repeatedly says he doesn't know anything and isn't involved in anything.

I find it hard to believe he'd do the video posting himself, considering he doesn't seem to want any part of the bullying. But yet, he knows about it in the present. He also shushes Jin when Jin tries to say something about the video to him, which to me reads guilt more than it reads "leave me out of it."

I think it's likely that Fluke told the others that Jin recorded that video and what they'd seen, and that his laptop was then used to post the video, because whoever posted it knew Fluke would have access to the video Jin recorded. It was likely Top or Tee, since we see them catch Non and Keng together earlier that episode. And Top texted Tee right after Non gave him the money to ask for a favor, which was clearly to follow Non and found out where he'd gotten the money.

If it was Fluke's laptop that was used, it explains Fluke's panic at what Jin was about to say in the past. Jin started with "I didn't" and would likely continue to say he didn't post the video, which Fluke knew would implicate him if Jin carried that thought through, so he cut the conversation short.

It's also why Fluke is so paranoid of being implicated in the present, but also why he knows that it wasn't Jin who posted the video, and instead points the finger at Tee. Because if Fluke wasn't involved in the video posting, I doubt Tee would tell him about it. That would be messy, considering how tightly-lipped Tee has been about everything else that happened in the past.

Oh and before I end, in episode 8 Por's laptop is shown to also be a Mac that uses dark mode, so I compared screenshots of his Mac to what is shown in the video of whoever posted, and it doesn't look the same. Not to mention, in the present, Por seems to carry the least amount of guilt and panic at the thought of people finding out what happened to Non, so I doubt he was involved in that particular part of Non's undoing.

So in conclusion: I think it's highly likely that it was Fluke's laptop that was used to post the video of Keng and Non, which is why he knows enough in the present to point the finger at Tee.

All of these details feel very intentional and important, and it will likely come out in future episodes. This feels very right to the plot to me, considering what Fluke seems to know in the future, but we'll all see as the remaining episodes unfold!

ETA: I was wrong, it IS established that Fluke is planning to study medicine (episode 5).

#dead friend forever #dff the series #dff #DFF spoilers #DFF episode 8 #DFF episode 8 spoilers #DFF meta #DFF analysis #DFF fluke #DFF Jin #DFF Non

[girasois]

GUIA COMPLETO DE COMO EDITAR FOTOS EM ALTA QUALIDADE (HQ)!

oiê, bem vindos(as)! à pedidos, estou trazendo um tutorial bem abrangente sobre como editar fotos no geral para icons, headers, etc., em alta qualidade. neste guia/tutorial trarei dicas, truques e informações gerais sobre o que é preciso para editar em hq. lembrando que o conteúdo deste guia é sobre como eu edito, a maneira que funciona comigo e meu progresso e aprendizado ao longo de quase 12 anos editando icons, ou seja, o que contém neste guia pode — e deve — ser adaptado à sua maneira e ao software de sua preferência. aproveitem e se divirtam!

nota: este tutorial está bem longo, então, se possível, veja este guia pelo pc/notebook!

O QUE VOCÊ VAI ENCONTRAR NESTE GUIA

softwares necessários com links para download;

onde e como baixar as fotos para as edits;

métodos de edição e passo a passo;

como melhorar a qualidade de uma foto;

como salvar a foto corretamente para postar;

dicas de actions e outros resources.

clique em “continuar lendo” para ver o tutorial.

1. SOFTWARE

photoshop

eu recomendo fortemente o uso do photoshop cc na versão mais recente, ou outra versão com camera raw ou filtros neurais suportada pelo seu pc ou notebook.

você também pode usar o photopea como alternativa (eu particularmente prefiro o photoshop pois acho que as edits ficam com mais qualidade). se você preferir o photopea, algumas dicas desse guia poderão não funcionar devido à falta de algumas funcionalidades que o photopea não oferece (ex: camera raw, galeria de filtros, filtros neurais e outros).

eu uso a última versão do photoshop (atualmente, a versão 25.5.1) e uso a versão paga (obrigada adobe pelo desconto de estudante!!!!!), mas vou deixar alguns links para você baixar o photoshop gratuitamente caso você não seja estudante e/ou não tenha condições para assinar um plano.

atualmente eu uso um mac mini 2014 para editar, mas sempre usei windows, então, as dicas e os links valem para os dois sistemas operacionais.

links

macos: 1, 2 & 3.

windows: 1, 2, 3 & 4.

2. BAIXANDO AS FOTOS

galerias de fotos

muitos artistas têm fansites com galerias de fotos e você pode achar facilmente digitando no google: “nome da pessoa + gallery”.

o artista que eu quero não tem galeria própria e agora? tranquilo, ainda temos galerias de fotos de famosos variados como hqdiesel, hqsource, hq-pictures e até mesmo o theplace.

em último caso você pode usar o gettyimages e usar um removedor de marca d’água ou um site como o gettyimages downloader.

instagram

para artistas estrangeiros que tenham apenas instagram e/ou não tenham fotos em galerias de imagens, eu recomendo o instagram pessoal da pessoa.

você poderá fazer o download das fotos com extensões de navegadores como o image downloader for instagram (para firefox e google chrome), ou sites como o saveig, o snapinsta ou o igdownloader.

eu recomendo baixar pela extensão do navegador, pois ela baixa a foto direto do site do instagram no computador, diferente dos sites que você precisará ir foto por foto, copiar o link e colar no site para fazer o download.

mas, caso a extensão esteja indisponível, com algum erro ou pare de funcionar, o site é uma excelente alternativa (só precisa ter mais paciência).

nos sites para baixar fotos do instagram, geralmente eles dão a opção para você escolher o tamanho da foto. você deve sempre selecionar a resolução maior da foto (acima de 1000px é o melhor).

pinterest

em casos extremos de artistas low profile, sem instagram, sem aparições públicas, sem galerias de fotos, nadica de nada, eu recorro ao pinterest.

porém, é preciso ter muito cuidado ao fazer download de fotos do pinterest, porque são muitas fotos repetidas e muitas com baixíssima resolução e qualidade.

se você for baixar fotos do pinterest, escolha a foto com maior resolução (imagens maiores que 500px já são ok para editar icons), e depois de baixar a foto, eu recomendo fazer um tratamento na foto para melhorar a qualidade dela, como vou ensinar.

3. EDITANDO

3.1 importando a foto no photoshop

apertando ctrl+o ou cmd+o uma guia vai abrir no programa, onde você vai até a pasta onde a foto foi salva. selecione a foto e clique duas vezes nela para abrir.

3.2 cortando a foto nas dimensões desejadas

muitos tutoriais de edições de icons sugerem que você copie a imagem e cole ela em um documento novo já do tamanho da sua edit, mas eu não recomendo essa opção, pois ao redimensionar a foto com a ferramenta de transformar (ctrl+t), ela dá poucas opções para manter a qualidade da foto e se você não souber o que cada opção faz, poderá perder a qualidade da imagem. então, eu sempre faço o recorte na própria foto para não alterar muito a qualidade dela.

aperte a letra c no teclado para abrir o atalho da ferramenta de corte. (se o seu photoshop for alguma versão do cc, eu recomendo que você marque a opção para usar o modo clássico de corte, assim fica mais fácil e você tem um controle maior sobre a ferramenta!). para fazer essa alteração é simples, vá no ícone de engrenagem, clique e marque a opção “usar modo clássico”.

para fazer icons, você deverá cortá-lo usado dimensões quadradas, ou seja, 1x1, e para headers 15x5. você pode mudar as dimensões na caixinha da ferramenta de corte.

3.3 redimensionando a foto

nessa parte você precisará prestar atenção, pois ao redimensionar a foto, você poderá perder ou ganhar um pouco mais de qualidade na foto, e para isso você usará uma opção chamada reamostrar (ou resample se seu photoshop estiver em inglês). deixe a opção marcada para usar as definições.

3.4 explicando as definições do reamostrar e qual definição usar de acordo com o resultado que você quer

bilinear: a melhor opção para redimensionar gifs, mas para fotos não é tão bom pois dependendo da foto algumas partes ficam nítidas, outras mais suaves e se você for aplicar action de nitidez, pode ficar com um aspecto de “craquelado” com as bordas granuladas, o que eu pessoalmente acho que fica um pouco estranho.

bicúbico mais suave (ampliação): como o nome já diz, ele deixa a foto mais suave, ou seja, os pixels “craquelados” e granulados da foto ficarão mais suaves. é uma ótima opção tanto se você for aplicar actions de nitidez ou actions mais desfocadas e mais suaves.

bicúbico (gradientes suaves): pode parecer a mesma coisa do bicúbico mais suave, mas esta opção além de suavizar a imagem, cria um “desfoque iluminado” nas transições das cores da foto. é a melhor opção para fotos sem muita qualidade e principalmente se você for usar actions suaves e desfocadas, sem muita nitidez.

bicúbico mais nítido (redução): acentua os pixels e as arestas nítidas da foto, ou seja, essa definição redimensiona a imagem mas preserva a nitidez da foto. se você usa actions de nitidez que não tem desfoque nas configurações, essa é a melhor opção de reamostra. (mas cuidado, se sua imagem ficar muito nítida com essa definição, você precisará usar outra opção. caso contrário, quando você aplicar a action, a edit poderá ficar muito exagerada e/ou com aspecto áspero.)

preservar detalhes (ampliação) com redução de ruído: esse em especial é ótimo para quando você precisar redimensionar uma foto para deixá-la maior sem distorcer tanto a imagem. você pode ajustar a redução de ruído para deixar a foto mais suave, sem perder muita qualidade. (obs.: essa opção não deve ser usada para redimensionar imagens muito pequenas, por exemplo de 200x200 para 400x400, ou a imagem vai ficar muito distorcida. ela deve ser usada quando a diferença de pixels não é muito grande, por exemplo, você cortou a foto e ela ficou no tamanho 370x370, aí sim você pode redimensionar para maior sem perder muito da qualidade. então você pode ir ajustando a qualidade com a porcentagem da redução de ruído).

pelo mais próximo (arestas sólidas): essa é uma opção traiçoeira, pois não fica bem em quase nenhuma imagem (a menos que seja um pixel art). essa definição redimensiona a imagem e mantém os pixels nítidos, ou seja, a foto fica menor mas tudo nela que tem aspereza vai prevalecer. é muito usada para redimensionar pixel art, pois preserva as bordas ásperas. pode ocorrer de ficar boa em uma foto aleatória mas não será possível aplicar action, ou a imagem ficará exagerada.

3.5 aplicando a nitidez depois de redimensionar

depois de escolher a foto, baixar, redimensionar de acordo com o estilo da action da sua escolha, está na hora de aplicar.

eu fiz duas versões para mostrar como fica com cada tipo de action:

assim, os dois icons tem uma alta qualidade usando actions diferentes, graças a remostragem ideal para cada tipo de action :)

4. TRATAMENTO DE IMAGEM PARA MELHORAR A QUALIDADE

nesta parte, é muito importante que você tenha baixado uma versão do photoshop com neural filters e/ou com o camera raw, mas caso você não tenha, tudo bem também, vou ensinar como fazer uma melhoria na foto de três jeitos: com camera raw, com neural filters e com desfoques. a melhor forma vai depender de quão ruim está a qualidade da sua foto. em geral, apenas fazendo ajustes no camera raw você já tem um ótimo resultado na maioria das fotos.

camera raw

se seu photoshop tem o filtro do camera raw, ele vai estar em filtro > filtro do camera raw...

tudo que iremos fazer será na aba de “detalhe”, ali você deve dar mais atenção ao ajuste de redução de ruído, pois é ele que vai remover o ruído da imagem e melhorar a qualidade dela.

vá mexendo nas configurações de redução de ruído até que a foto fique mais suave. ajuste também o detalhe e o contraste da redução de ruído.

essa parte será mais no olhômetro mesmo, pois as configurações vão variar de foto para foto, mas eu recomendo muito você mexer também na nitidez para não deixar a foto tão desfocada, mas nada muito intenso para não interferir na action que você irá usar.

eu mexo também na redução de ruído de cores, porque dependendo da foto, algumas cores estarão saturadas ou com muito ruído. só cuidado para não colocar um número muito alto, pois esse ajuste pode tirar a saturação da sua foto e deixá-la apagada.

enfim, aqui está uma comparação da foto original com o tratamento feito com o filtro do camera raw e depois já com a action de nitidez aplicada:

e essas foram as configurações que usei nessa foto em específico:

como eu disse antes, as configurações irão variar de foto para foto, a depender da qualidade de cada uma e de quão ruim a foto está, mas com essa configuração básica, você já vai conseguir melhorar algumas fotos.

neural filters

se a versão do seu photoshop vem com neural filters (ou filtros neurais), ele estará em filtro > neural filters...

irá abrir uma janela com vários filtros mas o que a gente irá usar vai estar em “restauração”, com o nome “remover artefatos jpeg”. se precisar, faça o download do filtro.

eu recomendo usar a intensidade sempre média, a menos que a foto esteja muito ruim, aí você usa a intensidade alta. mas em geral, a intensidade média ou baixa já dá conta do recado.

a saída deve sempre estar na camada atual, ou seja, na camada da foto selecionada.

assim:

e aqui está uma comparação da foto original com o tratamento feito com o neural filter e depois já com a action suave com desfoque aplicada:

a opção do neural filter é uma ótima alternativa ao camera raw, o único contra é que ele deixa a foto com uma textura áspera, e quando você usa uma action de nitidez eles ficam muito visíveis e acaba não ficando muito legal.

porém, um bom jeito de contornar isso é adicionando ruído na foto. eu uso o efeito de granulação do camera raw para adicionar ruído no icon (você também pode adicionar o ruído em filtro > ruído > adicionar ruído..., mas eu prefiro o camera raw pois ele dá mais opções para ajustar o granulado do jeito que eu preferir).

no primeiro icon abaixo, dá para perceber a textura áspera que o neural filter deixa depois de melhorar a foto e adicionar nitidez; já no segundo icon eu mostro como eu adicionei o ruído e contornei esse defeito.

as configurações de ruído que usei no camera raw foi 12 de granulado, 35 de tamanho e 20 de aspereza.

lembrando que, se você for usar uma action de desfoque e/ou remoção de ruído, não será necessário adicionar a granulação, pois a própria action já vai suavizar a textura do neural filter (a menos que você queira adicionar o ruído, claro).

redução de ruído + desfoque

caso a sua versão do photoshop não tenha nenhuma das opções de camera raw ou neural filter, caso você use um photoshop mais antigo, photoshop portable ou prefira usar o photopea, essas alternativas podem ser úteis.

mais uma vez, irei me basear no olhômetro, de acordo com a foto e irei ajustando as configurações de acordo com o que eu quero e acho necessário.

vamos começar com a redução de ruído! ele está em filtro > ruído > reduzir ruído...

na janela de redução de ruídos você verá alguns ajustes que são: intensidade, preservar detalhes, reduzir ruído de cores e tornar detalhes nítidos e vou explicar cada um para que você possa saber ajustar eles de acordo com sua foto:

intensidade: o número de 1 a 10 irá definir a intensidade da luminescência, a intensidade do filtro e o quanto da imagem você quer preservar ou extinguir, sendo 1 o mínimo da intensidade do filtro e 10 o máximo;

preservar detalhes: o número digitado irá definir a porcentagem de detalhes a serem preservados. quanto maior o número, maiores serão os detalhes mantidos na foto, como ruídos, manchas e outras aberrações da foto;

reduzir ruído de cores: o número digitado irá definir a intensidade e reduzir o ruído cromático, ou seja, vai reduzir as aberrações cromáticas, como por exemplo, fotos que distorcem as cores. preste atenção na porcentagem inserida, pois quanto maior o número, menos saturação sua foto terá e poderá ficar com aspecto de foto envelhecida;

tornar detalhes nítidos: o número digitado vai definir a porcentagem de nitidez para restaurar pequenos detalhes da foto. quanto maior a porcentagem, maior vai ser a intensidade dos detalhes da foto. preste atenção na porcentagem inserida, pois se a intensidade da nitidez for muito alto, vai afetar a sua action, seja ela de nitidez ou de desfoque.

sendo assim, para a foto usada eu fiz estes ajustes:

obs.: se você for um usuário mais avançado do photoshop, poderá explorar a opção avançado, que possui as configurações básicas para melhorar a foto e também as configurações para remover ruído das cores primárias (vermelho, amarelo e azul) individualmente. mas, mesmo se você não for um usuário expert, eu recomendo você dar uma olhada nessa opção e explorá-la, mexendo nas configurações e ir ajustando e aprendendo, pois o resultado poderá ficar ainda melhor nos ajustes avançados.

aplicado a redução de ruído, vamos partir para o desfoque! eu estarei usando o desfoque inteligente antes do desfoque de caixa. você vai achá-lo em filtro > desfoque > desfoque inteligente...

na janela que abrirá, você verá os ajustes: raio, limiar, qualidade e modo. vou explicar eles:

raio: vai determinar o tamanho da área que será considerada para o desfoque. quanto maior o número, mais detalhe serão preservados;

limiar: vai determinar a diferença dos pixels entre si antes de serem alterados pelo desfoque.quanto maior o número, maior será a área em que o desfoque será aplicado;

qualidade: vai determinar a qualidade e intensidade do desfoque. ao escolher a opção mais alta, mais partes da foto o desfoque atingirá;

modo: vai determinar o traçado das linhas de bordas que o filtro identificar. o modo normal aqui é o ideal, pois os outros modos “somente arestas” e “sobrepor arestas” irão identificar somente as bordas da imagem.

sendo assim, esses foram os ajustes:

após o desfoque inteligente, partiremos para o desfoque de caixa! ele está em filtro > desfoque > desfoque de caixa...

(você também poderá usar o desfoque gaussiano a depender da foto, mas para esta em questão, o desfoque de caixa funcionou perfeitamente)

a intensidade do desfoque de caixa, assim como do desfoque gaussiano, é medida em pixels e o mínimo é 1 pixel, e para icons é uma intensidade forte, então eu coloco o número mínimo (1, no caso) e depois de clicar em OK e aplicar o desfoque, vou em editar > atenuar desfoque de caixa... e ajusto a porcentagem de acordo com a foto. nessa foto deixei a porcentagem em 33% e ficou ótimo.

no entanto, infelizmente, por não ser o melhor método para melhorar a qualidade de uma imagem, ela ficará um pouco desfocada demais. mas podemos contornar isso usando o filtro alta frequência para devolver um pouco da nitidez e detalhes na foto. você encontrará esse filtro em filtro > outros > alta frequência...

o filtro de alta frequência, assim como os desfoques, é medido através de pixels e quanto maior o número, mais detalhes passarão despercebidos, ou seja, menos detalhes e menos nitidez sua foto terá. eu recomendo em torno de 2px se você quiser mais detalhes e em torno de 5px se você quer mais suavidade.

a primeira vista esse filtro parecerá estranho e distorcido, mas dará tudo certo, você só precisará mudar o modo de mesclagem. para isso vá em editar > atenuar alta frequência e mudar o modo de mesclagem para “sobrepor” ou “luz indireta” se você quiser que fique mais suave. se preferir, poderá também ajustar a opacidade para os detalhes ficarem mais ou menos intensos.

assim:

assim fica o resultado sem o filtro de alta frequência e com o filtro:

sendo assim, fica a seu critério usar o filtro ou não.

aqui está a comparação das fotos com o tratamento de redução de ruído + desfoque com e sem o uso das duas actions:

5. SALVANDO A EDIÇÃO

e chegou a melhor parte: salvar a edição para postar!

seja a edição um icon, uma header, ou qualquer outro gráfico estático (edições não animadas), a melhor opção é sempre, sempre, SEMPRE, salvar no formato PNG!

o formato jpg ou jpeg não preserva a qualidade original como o formato png preserva. então, sempre escolha esse formato ao salvar suas edições estáticas!

a melhor forma de salvar uma edição em alta qualidade é exportando ela. sendo assim, vá em arquivo > exportar > exportar como...

em “configuração de arquivo”, selecione o formato PNG e desmarque a opção “transparência” se sua foto não é uma imagem com fundo transparente; em “tamanho da imagem” deixe como a altura, a largura e a escola como estão, apenas mude a opção em “criar nova amostra” para BICÚBICO AUTOMÁTICO; e em “espaço da cor” marque a opção CONVERTER PARA SRGB, porque assim, independente da calibração do seu monitor, a foto ficará com as cores originais e não sofrerá alteração.

assim:

no entanto, se você tiver um pc ou notebook lento, ou apenas não tiver paciência para salvar sua edit em exportar, você pode salvar no modo normal, indo em arquivo > salvar como... OU arquivo > salvar uma cópia..., no entanto, se você for usar essa opção, não esqueça de marcar a caixinha para “incorporar o perfil de cores srbg”, essa opção geralmente fica na parte de baixo da janela que abre quando você vai salvar a edição.

6. ACTIONS & RESOURCES

para facilitar pra vocês, todos as configurações de filtros usados neste guia, estarão disponíveis para download em uma pasta de action. para fazer o download é só clicar aqui: ★. já a dupla de actions usadas (a de nitidez & a de desfoque suave) estarão disponíveis para download na lista de dicas abaixo.

dicas de actions de nitidez – premium & gratuitas (free)

lovie potion by @loviestudio [premium]

action #26 by @harupsds [premium]

action #25 by @harupsds [free]

01 action by @harupsds [free]

cherrie by @loviestudio [free]

action #11 by @miniepsds [premium]

face action by @miniepsds [premium]

crispy by @nebulies [free]

scarlett by @l-agallerrie [free]

eight action by @peachcoloring [premium]

bubblegum by @hisources [free]

kendall by @hisources [premium]

hekate by @hisources [premium]

sharpen by @l-agallerrie [free]

#01 action by @buntterflies [free]

dicas de actions “suaves” – premium & gratuitas (free)

teddy bear by @loviestudio [free]

action ten by @peachcoloring [premium]

caelestis by @miniepsds [premium]

fleuriste by @hisources [free]

angel by @loviestudio [free]

action #13 by @harupsds [premium]

action #12 by @harupsds [premium]

wild action by @hisources [free]

outras actions – premium & gratuitas (free)

denoise action effect — remove o ruído das fotos sem perder muita qualidade by @loviestudio [premium]

photopea quality action — action para melhorar a qualidade da foto no photopea by @loviestudio [free]

exclusive hq actions — um conjunto com as actions que foram usadas neste tutorial by @girasois, @loviestudio [free]

denoise and sharpen actions — conjunto de actions para melhorar a qualidade da foto automativamente by heavnsent

7. BÔNUS: DICAS EXTRAS

a adobe cc learn tem muitos tutoriais que você pode dar uma olhada e aprender muito mais sobre o photoshop e outros programas da adobe!

o youtube é outra fonte incrível para você aprender edição no photoshop, lá você encontra tutorial para quase tudo de edição de fotos e muito mais! se você entende inglês, eu recomendo muito os canais piximperfect e brendan williams tutorials.

para fonte de inspirações, o tumblr é o lugar certo! se jogue nas tags para se inspirar e nos blogs de photoshop para ver muito mais tutoriais e muito mais resources.

o blog @looksgreat infelizmente não é mais atualizado, mas você ainda pode encontrar muitos tutoriais sobre quase tudo de edição, e o melhor, todos os tutoriais são em português!!

ainda recomendo outros tumblr brasileiros de resources e tutoriais: @miniepsds, @harupsds, @peachcoloring, @gmfioart, @colour-source, @l-agallerrie, @wasirauhlpsds, @hisources, @opulenceps, @sunshinepsds, e @loviestudio; e no deviantart: jungrainsoul, rockjealous, heavnsent, aureangels e rohdossantos.

8. CRÉDITOS E INFORMAÇÕES

crédito colorings

off hearts + whimsy by @miniepsds ♡

informações

antes de tudo eu gostaria de pedir desculpas pelo tamanho deste guia, mas eu quis abranger o máximo de dicas possíveis para vocês e deixar o tutorial super completinho.

em segundo lugar eu gostaria de agradecer todo o carinho de vocês, isso me motiva muito a continuar. obrigada, de coração!

enfim, é isso! minha ask estará sempre aberta para dúvidas, sugestões, pedidos e mensagens fofas (sempre com educação e respeito, claro)!

#tutorial #photoshop tutorial #tutoriais #tutorials #resources #hq tutorial #tips #useful #ptbr #adobe photoshop #photopea tutorial #tutorial tips #dicas #dicas de edição #dicas de actions #guia completo #guia #guia de edição #guia de edits #edits tutorial #edit tag #masterpost #long post #editing tips #icon tutorial #header tutorial #hq edits

[maxislvt]

Send You My Love On A Wire

Summary: Music had always been a big part of Wanda's life. Her parents loved music and they had passed that love down to her. She would've never thought that loving music would mean music would give her love back

Warnings: making out, a lot of cock blocking, smut, fingering, brief oral

A/N: The first half of this was in my drafts since the beginning of summer and I completely forgot about it despite the fact I never shut up about this concept. Anyways, it's finally here!!! Hope y'all enjoy her

Wanda loved concerts. The loud music, the cheering from fans, and the adrenaline rush came with every set. It was addictive. Her first concert was fresh in her mind. She was only eight years old at the time. Armed only with her favorite stuffed animal and bright red earplugs, she entered the world of music for the very first time. She had spent ample time in her parent's studio, but the concert was an experience like no other. The bright lights, people dancing, and being safely above it all while perched on her father's shoulders. Music had become Wanda's lifeline that day. It had only taken a few more years for her to throw herself into the industry entirely.

Soon, she was the one dancing and singing on stage. It was terrifying at first. Music was the first major life choice she made without her brother. Where she had fallen in love with bass guitars and layered choruses, Pietro fell in love with scene heading and camera angles. Their support for each other never faltered, but the fear was almost unshakable. It wasn't until she stepped on stage that her wings truly spread. Soon she was selling out stadiums in mere minutes and singing her out.

Of course, she was still herself. A little kid that loved music and the people that made it. Wanda still had a few celebrity crushes she couldn't let go of. Most were much older and married, but one, in particular, stood out.

The Thunderbolts was a group that popped up about a year before Wanda had started hers. They were a lot edgier and further on the alternative spectrum than what Wanda usually listened to, but she enjoyed their music nonetheless. Loud, exciting, and aggressive — all things she loved in music. The absolute beauty that was their concept only added to the appeal. Bastardized demigods in one album and humans possessed by unforgiving demons in the next, with the aesthetics to match. All the members put their all into creation, but you just stood out more than anyone. Though you were a guitarist, you'd occasionally take the stage as the main vocalist and would help other groups create choreography as well.

Unfortunately, Wanda could never get close enough to actually to you even if it was just for an autograph or a chance to praise you for working so hard. It was until one of her first real festival performances that she got the chance to meet you. She was apprehensive at first. You were very open about how you took major performances seriously and you were busy getting makeup done or tuning your guitar. Her dear brother, almost equally infatuated with your music, was determined to get an autograph since he couldn't attend the festival.

"Come on," Pietro groaned out as much as he could with a group of women frantically doing his makeup. "I can't be there to get it myself, can you at least try?" For reasons entirely beyond his sister, Petro was convinced all musicians had some secret clique or friendships they refused to tell the world about. "Just use your super good music privileges and get them to sign my shirt! Maybe we'll get a collab out of it!"

Wanda rolled her eyes at her brother's antics. "I've told you before, there is no secret music industry cult! Just catch them at another concern or something." She huffed out. There were a few hours before the start of the show. Maybe he could see you, or at least get her and her brother some new merch from one of the tents outside. "Okay, fine. I'll try, but don't start pouting when there's no signature on it!"

"Yeah," Pietro cheered childishly and gently pumped his fists in the air, careful not to hit the people around him. "I promise I'll make it up to you!"

Wanda chuckled softly before preparing to leave her backstage room. She and her brother were used to sneaking out for the sake of fun and privacy. She coasted through the crowds and stopped by the occasional vendor for snacks or new merch she hadn't seen yet. Her adventures were quickly cut short after she caught up in a line for Thunderbolts merch. Exploring seemed much more enjoyable, but Pietro would kill her if she didn't at least get him a crappy mug with the band's name on it.

"That just doesn't make any sense," said a gruff, familiar voice. "You call my boyfriend Wilson, my best friend Rogers, and my best friend's boyfriend Stark! What sense does it make for me to be ' Buchanan'?"

Wanda brushed it off as a case of her ears being fucked because of the loud noises around her. Maybe it was just a group of friends playing make-believe and telling jokes.

"Because ‘Buchanan’ is a much sexier name than 'Barnes'! Are you happy now, Barnes?" Less gruffly than the first voice but just as passionate about the conversation. “Your boyfriend, best friend, and best friend’s boyfriend have cool last names, and you don’t!”

Okay, no. That way definitely who she thought it was. Bucky and Y/N, members of her favorite band, were standing right behind her. Now was her chance. All she had to do was turn around and say something. Instead, Wanda found herself frantically fixing her clothes and nitpicking at her outfit. After what must have been half an hour, she turned to face you and your bandmate. “Um, hey.” There was an awkward pause as you and Bucky waited for her to continue talking. Wanda had no clue what to say and opted to lift her glasses and give a small smile.

That was all Wanda needed to do before it was your turn to freak out,

“Oh my god,” You whispered in shock, “You’re the Scarlet Witch!” You excitedly bounce on your heels while using your thumb and pointer finger to mimic the shape of the iconic crown. “I am such a big fan- uh, sorry if I’m being too loud,” Your odd ramblings would’ve continued had your friend not been kind enough to elbow you in your side. There was no telling how red your face had gotten within a few minutes, but you were sure it embarrassed you. It was like your brain had short-circuited. “Um, did you need something?” Your hand nervously ran down the side of your jeans.

Wanda couldn’t help but smile at you. You looked good on stage, but your awkwardness was unexpected. Not once did she ever think she’d see the lead guitarist of Thunderbolts would be blushing and tripping over their words — especially not because of her. “Oh yeah! If you guys aren’t too busy, I’d love it if you guys could sign some stuff for my brother. I’ll pay for you guys’ food as payback or sign some stuff back.”

“Deal! On the signing stuff, too. We already borrowed our manager’s debit card.” A mischievous grin crossed your face as you flashed the shiny metal card at Wanda. The ability to play cool and smooth talk people were usually something better suited for Bucky or Yelena. Today though, it seemed it was yours. “We can meet up at our backstage room. Y’know, so we don’t get trampled.”

“Sounds great, but order fast because people are pointing, and I’m hungry,” Bucky said. He never thought being caught up in such tension could be so draining.

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

Wanda never expected a chance encounter to change her life so much. Having a record with your signature on it was quickly dwarfed by several things. To start, knowing you liked her music as well sent her over the moon. The only thing better than that was being your friend. You invited her to hang out at award shows and even gave her VIP seats at your concerts.

Her favorite moments were the more private between the two of you. When you would call her during late nights at your studio or just to catch up after being busy. Wanda was sure your other friends got similar treatment. That didn't make it any less special. Video calls were even better. It was a privilege to watch you effortlessly glide across the floor of the studio or be there to help you write a song lyric or two. It made Wanda feel special.

Touring made that difficult though. Moving around non-stop and constantly performing meant there was little time for the two of you to actually talk. Being the absolute sweetheart you were, you made an effort to send at least one super-long voice message about your days. Endless rants about Bucky absolutely devouring everything in sight, Ava and Yelena boldly and heated debates about abstract concepts you hadn't a clue about, and whatever else you come out of your head.

Unfortunately, one was unreasonably short. It was the last day of your tour, surely you'd have something to go on about. However, it seemed like anything noteworthy that day was somehow packed into a five-minute voice message. Despite her disappointment, she let it play.

"Hi, Wands," Your words slurred out excitedly. Shuffling and the sound of glass clinking were picked up by the speaker. "I just wanted to tell you how much I love you," The slurring continued, "and I mean really love you." Wind seemingly picked up out of nowhere as you snatched your phone and lay down on the ground. "You're so super pretty and super smart and so super nice! Like a super package!" Most of anything after that was a disjointed statement about Wanda's never-ending beauty and super cool and totally awesome music. A fit of giggles would cut through your ramblings every few minutes, but that didn't stop you. "I really want to be your partner….Wait no, I want you to be my girlfriend. I can be your girlfriend or your boyfriend, I can also be both! I'm super cool with either." You laughed at the thought. "I don't care what I am, I just wanna be it with you. Like, romantically."

Wanda was shocked. Her heart hammered in her ears and her face had gone beet red. Was this a confession she could take seriously? Probably not, but you sounded absolutely adorable and she downloaded it regardless of its validity. In the time it had taken her to formulate a response, you had already sent her another voice message.

"L is for the way you look…like my girlfriend!" The off-key and horribly unstable pitch didn't stop you from professing your love. Despite your obvious intoxication, you serenaded Wanda with the addition of a piano. "V is for very very, uh, extra pretty because that's what you are! Wait no, I missed the O…" The piano suddenly stopped and you hummed. "Oh right! O is for the only one I see- that one's an alliteration!" Your playing picked back up, this time much slower and less on the beat. "Um, E is…I don't remember what E is for — hey! Give it back I wasn't done talking to heeer!"

A struggle could be heard from the phone and for a second there was only silence. You were clearly outnumbered. The only thing that stopped Wanda from worrying was the familiar Russian accent that replaced your voice.

"Ah, sorry Wanda Maximoff. Bucky bet that they couldn't out-drink my dad and you know the both of them are sore losers. Hope you have a nice night."

With that, Wanda was left with her thoughts. It was probably best to just ignore it until you were sober enough to talk about it. You were a prideful person and would probably be very embarrassed in the morning, but there was no way she'd pass up the opportunity to confess. She took a deep breath and pressed the voice record button. "Hi sweetheart," She said in a sickeningly sweet voice knowing it would make you squirm. "I would just love for you to be my partner! I'll call you whatever you want to be called, but don't worry about that until you get home, okay? Just drink a lot of water for me and worry about everything else later. I hope you have a safe trip home, I love you!"

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

You didn't have much time to yourself the next morning or most of the evening. Packing and flying home took all of forever, unpacking seemed to take longer than packing itself, and all you wanted to do was sleep. All that meant it was around 10:30 at night when you had finally checked your phone and listened to Wanda's message. The words filled your head and you could stare at your phone. You attempted to formulate a text in response. Do you apologize for not answering first or do you address the confession first? What if she was just joking?

Your fingers frantically started typing and stopped suddenly when you noticed Wanda typing as well. Then Wanda stopped immediately after you did, only to start again. The cycle continued two more times and only stopped because Wanda got irritated and decided to call you instead.

You answered despite your nervousness. "Uh, hey!" If it weren't for the fact Wanda would reprime you for doing so, you would punch yourself in the face for being so lame. The soft giggle from the other end of the phone was sweet enough to ease the tension in your body. "Um, you're up late."

Wanda giggled again. "I could say the same for you, sweetheart." Her voice was raspy from tiredness. She glanced at the clock on her studio wall and grinned. "Doesn't sound like you took my advice either, why don't you go drink some water before we talk?" It was cruel to boss you around knowing you'd scramble to please her, but it was for your own good. She listened tentatively as you walked from your bedroom to the kitchen and made yourself a glass of water. "So, did you mean it?"

A simple question, but it still made your heart race. You were so desperate to answer that you choked on your in the process. After a brief coughing fit and a few deep breaths, you could speak again. "I really did," You whispered into the phone. You were thankful Wanda couldn't see you at the moment. Though you were sure she'd appreciate your pajama shorts with her iconic crown printed on, you'd never recover from her seeing how flustered she made you. "But I totally understand if you—"

"Then prove it."

"What?"

"Ask me out again now that you're all sobered up."

You paused for a moment, hoping she was just messing with you. When that confirmation never came, you were forced to swallow your pride and confess a second time. "I think you're really pretty and I like you a lot…I would like it if you were my girlfriend and let me take you out on a date sometime soon." Wanda was nowhere in sight but your eyes darted around as if she was.

"I don't get an encore of that lovely song you made for?"

"Now you're just being mean!"

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

Being a celebrity in a secret relationship was harder than you thought it'd be. There were only so many times you could get caught alone before the public began to suspect things. Keeping it from your inner circle was even harder. Everyone knew you and Wanda were close, but close couldn't explain all those late nights spent at her studio or the increasing amount of bruises that littered your body.

As if that wasn't hard enough, Wanda seemed to have no concept of secrecy or subtlety. The initial agreement was a month before going public, but that never stopped her from slamming you against every wall she could for a "quick kiss". Of course, it was never just one and they were easily the longest kisses you'd ever had in your life. It didn't matter if you were at a bar or your best friend's party. If she wanted you, she'd take you. Even if that was five minutes before your makeup call.

"Wanda, I have to go," You whimpered before your lover pulled you into another searing kiss. The burn in your lips had already sealed your fate, but Wanda was determined to keep going. Even when your hands had begun desperately tugging at her shirt and she ruined her makeup already, Wanda wanted more from you. "I'll let you do whatever you want when we get home, just let me go for now, please?"

Wanda leaned back and admired her handy work. Her lipsticks had rubbed off on your lips and down to your neck. Your knees had gone completely weak and you were almost out of breath entirely. Even in your desperation to escape her grasp, your eyes pathetically followed her every move. It wouldn't matter if Wanda gave you the freedom you secretly didn't want, you'd fall back into her arms and beg for release anyways. "You'd let me do what I wanted regardless," She said before going back in to make even more of a mess from you. You were wrapped around her fingers and wouldn't do a thing to change that. "I'll let you go in a minute, just be good for me."

You squirmed under Wanda's touch as she began to grope you. "Someone's going to see and I don't wanna get in trouble." Nearly all the conviction in your voice had disappeared and you could barely stand. It wasn't fair at all. "I'll come right back after we perform, but if I'm late for makeup they'll send-"

"Y/n? Oh-"

Your heart nearly popped out of your chest. "Alexei, I swear this isn't what you think it is! We were just..Wanda was…" Your brain flipped through any number of excuses you could come up with to explain yourself, but there just weren't any. A defeated sigh escaped your lips and you prepared for your world to come crashing down.

"This is exactly what you think it is and they'll be back in the dressing room in 2 minutes."

Alexei blankly stared at the both of you. Then he smiled. "You know, when me and Melina first got together we were just as adventurous as you two!" He stretched his arms out for a hug. "There is no reason to be ashamed of your true love for each other! Wherever you two have done, me and Lina have probably done it twice!" His attempts at consulting you never felt to miss the mark by an inch or two, but that was easily the worst yet.

A disgusted groan escaped your mouth as you suddenly sobered up from your producer's ramblings. "Well, that certainly killed my mood. I'll um, see you after my set…if they let me." You quickly ran off before Wanda could you back into her twisted web of lust. You were thankful your bandmates were too focused on getting ready to question your absence. Alexei seemed suspiciously quiet, but anything to keep you from the grilling your friends would give you.

However, with a band as neurologically different as yours, you couldn't escape them for much longer. Even the amazing performance and the adrenaline from engaging with the crowd couldn't save you from the numerous questions and ungodly teasing that looked over your head.

"In front of her dressing room, you couldn't wait long enough to open the door?"

"How long were you gonna keep this from me? I'm your best friend!"

"Did that stupid drunk excuse of a cover really work?? I expected Maximoff to have better standards than that."

You tried your best to keep still as your makeup artist carefully removed the prosthetic horns from your forehead. "I was gonna tell you guys, honest! We just wanted to keep it secret until we were sure about it. Also, it wasn't even my idea to make out, I was tryna get back here in time for the set!" You relaxed once all your makeup was removed. "And yes, the song did work but I'm not exactly proud of that one either."

"Look on the bright side, at least we won't have to deal with their drunk ramblings anymore," Ava said with a dry chuckle. "I think we should be happy, even if Wanda uses you for her demonic witch performances."

"It was one time and she isn't a real witch!"

"Those are just the ones you were sober enough to remember," Antonia said. She was more focused on carefully putting her guitar back into its case. "There was that time you got blackout drunk at the escaping Valentina party and you spent the whole ride mumbling about how cute Wanda's freckles were. Then a month later at Bucky and Sam's engagement party, you wouldn't let anyone play songs that weren't hers and you cried because her voice was so pretty." The girl stopped talking temporarily to put her guitar pics back in the bag the way she liked. "When you two have an engagement party, you do not get to pick the DJ."

"Who says we're having an engagement party?"

"You're going to have one."

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

Very early into your relationship, you learned that Wanda has a nearly insatiable libido. It was near impossible to keep up with her. She'd spend hours pushing you to your limit and far beyond. Any attempts to give her pleasure in return would land you right back underneath her and start another round. Not even the fear of being caught could curb her lust for you.

"Come on, baby, you look too good not to touch," Wanda whispered as she groped you. Her hands were always on you, but you could always tell when they were about to get adventurous. She knew how to make your knees weak. "Just one time, I promise I'll be quick!" Her fingers danced over your back and towards your belt. Locking you in some random restroom wasn't her ideal location for a quickie, but she couldn't control herself, not when you looked like they at least.

You groaned softly when Wanda licked up the side of your neck. "One is like a million with you," You whispered back as harshly as you could. It wasn't like you would be complaining. There was nothing in the world that felt better than being underneath Wanda while she used you any way she saw fit, but you'd die if you had to do that and immediately be faced with the public. "We can leave early just- fuck, you gotta work with me here, Wands."

"Oh, but if I wait any longer I might not be so nice when we get home," Wanda chuckled darkly. Her hips rolled into yours while she untucked your shirt and raised it. "And you know how whiney you get when I mean. Is that what you want? Do you want me to be mean when we get home?" The smirk on her face proved how much control she had over you. It didn't matter when she got you, she'd win regardless. "Or I can play nice, it's up to you."

Your hips desperately followed hers as she pulled away. "Fine, you can fuck me in the car or something, just not here!" The second the words left your mouth, you regretted it. Wanda pulled you out of the restroom and towards the car without much concern for the people asking where you were going or if you were okay. "Hey, wait- I think I left my jacket!"

Wanda pushed you into the backseat and raised the partition so you two would have some semblance of privacy. "Bucky will get it, just focus on me," She hummed. Her hands went right back to groping you without a care. "Do you know how hard it was to keep my hands to myself? These pants make your ass look amazing, I might not even take them off when we get home." Wanda kept her voice so only you could hear her.

You loved how verbal Wanda was. Having her to talk you through whatever delicious torture kept you grounded. It even made you more confident. "Yeah, must've been real hard because you haven't stopped touching me since we left the house." All your worries began to fade away as Wanda attacked your neck. The only thing you could focus on was the burning feeling between your legs. "I promise I'll be good."

"I know you will, but that doesn't mean I have to rush." Wanda continued to torture you until the car pulled up in your driveway. She barely gave you enough space to get out of the car and she was right back on you once the chauffeur pulled off. It was only a few seconds before she had you pinned against the door."Relax, I won't let anyone else see you," She whispered when she felt you tense up in her grasp.

You relaxed for only a few seconds. Though you had trusted Wanda, she couldn't account for everything. A car could have flown by or maybe a neighbor would suddenly remember to check their mailbox. Unfortunately, you were met with something much worse. The familiar click of a camera was enough for your heart to stop. Your eyes darted over to the perpetrator. Paparazzi. "You've got to be fucking kidding me," You whispered, words laced with venom. Red-hot anger followed through your veins.

Wanda let you push her away, but she followed you into the house. "Fuck, this is my fault. I'll fix it, I swear." She was quick to wrap you up in her arms. Guilty wasn't enough to describe how she felt. The PR and nosiness of her labelmates were the least of her concern. You were so exposed in that photo and god knows how many people were going to see it. Part of her was jealous, but most of her just wanted to go out and rip off that fucker's head. "I promise not to do stuff like that again! I'll call my manager and then my lawyer, and we'll figure out just-"

"We have to go public."

"Excuse me?"

You shrugged. "There's nothing we can do until they post, so we might as well beat them to the punch." By no means were you happy to be interrupted during such an intense moment, but you weren't going to let some rando ruin your relationship. "If you're okay with it, but it's the fastest solution I got."

Wanda thought for a moment. It wasn't fair that you two had to expose your relationship so early. Tabloids and shitty gossip blogs would throw around hundreds of rumors, but she couldn't let them get a head start on that. "Alright, let's do it."

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

It had been around a year since you and Wanda had decided to go public. Though you remained cautious, it seemed one scare was all it took for Wanda to stop caring about what the public thought about your relationship. Your most recent interview together was proof of that.

Hundreds of shows, podcasts, and magazines requested to interview the both of you after the reveal, but most were shady and definitely a waste of time. The biggest concern was people being too focused on your relationship in more inappropriate ways. You were thankful Pepper and Tony had an intense vetting process when it came to who was allowed to schedule Wanda. You were a little upset when that hard work went waste because Wanda aired out her — well your — dirty laundry the second she got the chance to.

"Oh, you wouldn't believe how submissive this one is."

The statement played in your headphones over and over again until you were sure you heard your girlfriend correctly. "Oh, no you don't! You're in the doghouse!" You wiggled away from Wanda when she came up to snuggle you in bed. "After that fiasco, you're lucky I didn't change the locks," You huffed out dramatically. "That didn't even answer their question!"

Wanda frowned, but then she got an idea. "Don't tell me you were embarrassed about that. There was so much more I could've told them." A mischievous smirk spread across her face as she climbed on top of you. Her hand gently tilted your head back and she took the liberty of reclaiming your skin as her. Sharp, hot teeth and gets your soft, cool skin. "Oh, I could've told them all about how weak you get when I kiss your neck."Her hands squeezed your thighs. "Or, how wet you get when I touch you like this."

Your face burned from embarrassment, but you couldn't bring yourself to stop Wanda. "That's not…you wouldn't!" Breathing was near impossible as she invaded your every sense. Her blunt nails dragging down the skin of your stomach were almost enough to send you into overdrive. Being at Wanda's mercy was a pleasure like no other. All the thoughts in your head began to fade away.

Wanda's peppered kisses over your stomach. She nipped at the sensitive skin until deep purple marks began to form. Unfortunately, conscious of the press events you'd have to do later in the week, she made sure not to go too high. "Maybe I should've told them about how much you like it when I leave all these pretty marks on your body. Does that sound better?" She giggled watching you frantically shake your head no. "Are you sure, your boxers seem awfully wet?" She pressed her thumb against the wetness leaking through your underwear. "Do you want me to help?"

"Yes, please," You rushed out. Your hips raised up allowing Wanda to quickly remove the barrier between her and your lower half. The fact you had just gotten out of the shower couldn't even stop you from giving Wanda everything. "I'll do anything, just help, please." You looked and felt pathetic when you begged, but you didn't care. Wanda was all you needed at that moment and you'd risk anything to get her.

"I bet they'd have a field day hearing about all the things I've done to this little hole of yours," Wanda teased as her fingers ran through the wetness leaking from your cunt. Her fingers lightly grazed your clit and pulled away the second your hips began to move. "Maybe I'll talk about how much of a needy whore you are for my fingers." She smiled at the way you whined. She slipped inside of you with ease. That slow, filling rhythm Wanda set was addictive. Sliding all the way in, then dragging them out just as slow.

The vulgar gushing sounds from your pussy filled your ears. "Fuck, Wanda please," You begged. It was a miracle Wanda knew you as well as she did. Her teasing words would never stop her from doing her very best to please you. Three of her fingers stretched you out so easily and assaulted your g spot without relenting. "I'm so close, just don't stop!" One of your hands snaked down to your neglected clit only to immediately be smacked away.

Wanda clicked her tongue. "I'll tell them about how disobedient and needy you are too. You know you're not supposed to touch yourself when I'm playing with you," She hissed. Her fingers pulled out and came down harshly on your clit. "Awe, does it hurt? I bet you like it." The smirk on her face never faded watching you thrash around and beg for her to keep touching you. "Shush, I'll let you cum this time but you have to promise not to touch what's mine."

"I promise, I was just- ah!" All the words in your brain disappeared when Wanda's fingers entered your cunt again. A shiver ran up your spine and you instinctively wrapped your legs around Wanda's waist. "That feels so good. Thank you, thank you so much!" It seemed your ruined orgasm had only aroused you more and you were already about to cum again. Your hips bucked up into Wanda's hand and she could only laugh at you.

"Ah, you're so needy. I don't know what you'd do without me," She giggled before leaning down to lick your clit. Her tongue expertly wrapped around your clit as she began to suck. Pleasing you was almost enough to get her off alone. Your slick dripping down her wrist, your falls clenching around her fingers, and your clit throbbing inside her mouth. It was perfect. You were perfect. "Cum for me, show me how good it feels."

A low groan escaped your lips. Everything was too much, but you still wanted more. "Right there, right there, ah!" In a few seconds, everything stopped. The only thing you could feel was the burning hot pleasure deep within yourself coming out of you and onto Wanda. A never-ending stream of bliss that you couldn't even fully process. "Thank you, thank you so much," You whimpered once your body collapsed back onto the bed.

Wanda peppered kisses over your thighs and lower stomach, those less fierce than the ones before. "You're welcome, but we gotta get you cleaned up again." She smiled at the dopey looks on your face. "I know you're tired, but you know how you get when you're sticky."

You huffed out and wrapped your arms around Wanda's shoulders. "You're doing all the hard work, my legs still feel tingly."

"I'd do anything for you, my dear."

#pvntherz #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda fanfic #pop star!wanda

[gwndolnfrankln]

i'm not in love - eddie munson x reader

🎧.˳⁺⁎ summary: as the photographer of the school's journalism club, you were given a task to take pictures of the hellfire club for the highschool yearbook. when everyone notices a sudden change in eddie munson's demeanor the night of the campaign, it may or may not have something to do with you.

⋆ warnings: 18+ only, minors DNI, swearing, fingering, making out, dirty talk, aftercare, orgasm, eddie munson (bc this man is the death of me)

⋆ a/n: based on the song: i'm not in love by 10cc. i had a lot of first time's writing this: my first smut, fluff ig and of course, eddie munson <3 the grammar still needs a bit of work but this one's special, folks. 

⋆ word count: 3645

I'm not in love

So, don't forget it

It's just a silly phase I'm going through

And just because

I call you up

Don't get me wrong, don't think you've got it made

I'm not in love, no no, it's because...

Scattered voices fell into hushed whispers the moment you walked inside the campaign room, steadily following your presence like a prancing fox. With your photo camera in hand, you sauntered slowly, trying to blend with the crowds in normal hallway fashion, but to no avail their eyes were on you. Your skin prickled and flushed; goosebumps flared up your arms while you unacknowledged a drop of sweat trickling down your forehead. Even with the air of suspense lingering in the room, a few familiar faces waved at you on the long table across from you. You recognized some of them, boys you’ve had classes with and others you’ve seen around the neighborhood, but the one you’ve secretly kept a keen eye on was the man sitting at the far end of the table: Eddie the “Freak” Munson.

Before the start of spring break, Nancy assigned you to take pictures of the clubs for the yearbook. For the week, you’ve just done Chess, Taekwondo, Debate and the cheerleading squad. You wrote the list with the help of Nancy, arranged them in numerical order, putting Hellfire Club at second-to-the-last. Even though you’ve known Dustin and Mike since they were little kids, you were half-convinced by your parents to stay away from anything DnD-related or as they would like to call it, “the Devil-worshipping game”. 

You knew it was never like that since you used to play as a young girl, wholeheartedly fascinated with character sheets and the little details put into these games. Overall, you respected the heart and passion of these players. So much so that every time a certain guy with long curly locks starts to march on his usual table, calling out every clique in the cafeteria, you couldn’t help but stare, longer than one’s supposed to every time someone makes a scene at lunch time.

“I’m not in love.” You whispered to your friend, Megan, as you placed your pile of textbooks inside your locker then checked the state of your dusty old camera with a few snaps. Megan rolled her eyes with a teasing smirk, knowing that that’s not the definite answer to what she saw at lunch lately. “Yeah, right. A few minutes worth of Eddie’s lap dancing versus your twenty minutes of staring doesn’t seem to look up on your behalf.” You grunted, showing no signs of defense at Megan’s conviction. 

“Ha, ha. Alright Megan, you got me. Now, can I have some of your gum?” Megan handed you a packet of pink gum from her skirt pockets, putting on red lip gloss in front of the locker’s side mirror. “Okay, fine. I’ll let you change the subject for now. But I want to hear more about this little crush on the phone later.” Megan clapped your cheeks with pouty lips before she walked off to her next class. As you closed your locker doors shut, your heart jumped right out of its chest when you noticed Mike’s presence, not really knowing how long he was standing there. 

"Hey Mike, what's up?" You didn't know why you fidgeted like a kid grabbing candy from the sweets bowl; judging by Mike's weird expression, he must've waited by your side the whole time. "Well, I'm wondering if you can take Lucas' spot for Hellfire later, since he can't come because of the championship." You remembered the game because of Nancy, when you insisted on taking photos on the court instead of the other clubs. Nancy must’ve seen right through you, but you gave up all your pleas just to get the job done and not mess with Nancy’s temper any longer.

“Sure, but I won’t play. I have to take pictures for the senior yearbook. The layout committee saved you guys a page.” 

That very answer leads you here in the old theater room, now fully occupied by the Hellfire club. Mike explained to you in a hurry that they desperately needed someone to replace Lucas for the evening or else their DM would be bothersome if they didn’t get a replacement for tonight's DnD session. It was a surprise to them that someone like you would want to watch them play. You were quite infamous for dating a lot of guys since you were thirteen; puberty has both been a blessing and a curse.

Dustin cleared his throat to break the prolonged awkwardness, asking Eddie to continue but it was only met with coughs from the other members. You were avoiding the table the whole time and decided to play around with your camera until they decided to continue, yet Dustin’s question was only met with more silence. That’s when you looked up for the first time, and your eyes were met with Eddie’s, who was across from you sitting on his throne. 

His curly bangs failed to cover the dark look in his eyes, his all too familiar gaze sharpening the strictness of his jaw. His intertwined fingers went rigid just by the way his metal rings stopped clicking against each other, while his chest heaved heavily like something was about to explode from inside him. Unfortunately, you knew that he was going to react the way he did before you entered the room. His avoidant stares from your side of the cafeteria, the bitter tone in his voice when he asked Mrs. Hanks to change his seat farther from yours, and his cold invisible cape that brushed your shoulders every time he walked past you in the hallway. The summer of ‘86 was a memory you can't etch to forget, and it was evident that it was also that time for Eddie’s.

I like to see you

But then again

That doesn't mean you mean that much to me

So, if I call you

Don't make a fuss

Don't tell your friends about the two of us

I'm not in love, no no, it's because...

The momentum in Eddie drastically changed as he started reading the folder in front of him, narrating flawlessly. “The hooded cultists chant,” Once again, his eyes darted to yours while you captured the game with the snap of your camera. “‘Hail Lord Vecna’. They turn to you, remove their hoods. You recognize most of them from Makbar. But there is one you do not recognize,” Their eyes were on him now, clenching their fists as they listened intently. 

“His skin shriveled, desiccated. And something else.” Eddie rose from his seat and placed an arm behind him. “He is not only missing his left arm, but his left eye!” Everyone clamored in their seats as you took the perfect shot at the edge of the table. You can tell by the look of amusement on Eddie’s face that he had accomplished his expectations for the campaign, placing them right where he wanted them to be. 

"No!"

“He was killed by Kas!” 

“So, it was thought, my friends. So, it was thought. But Vecna lives!” 

The game started from there. You were quite enthralled the whole entire time, adoring the sight of cards and notebooks scattered everywhere on the table. You even placed your camera down to shout when one of them never got lucky with the dice. It was surprisingly fun at times, enraging at some points, but the thrill distracted you from Eddie. 

Well, that part isn't fully true. 

You would find yourself smiling when he laughs back at his throne, or even look at his fingers clenching the handles of his throne while the other members of the club attack the enemy. Tonight was the first time you’ve ever been this close to Eddie. This was the first time he ever looked at you, saw you and stood in the same room as you. Every school day, he fished you out like a choking hazard, and you deserved it. This was punishment—a punishment that you’re willing to take since that last summer. 

Your final days with him were nothing short of regretful choices. You were scared to be sure, the assurance that someone would actually want you apart from anything else. You shroud love with cowardice, completely used to the idea that any guy can easily discard you like garbage. A simple, pretty girl who never took real relationships "too seriously", or a himbo who only dated "just for the fun of it", whatever else the rest of the school talks about behind your back. But you knew— you knew deep down that Eddie was different from the rest of them. 

It was very hot that day; you were sweating profusely through your striped polo shirt and you were in a desperate need to find a water bottle. In the woods, you were walking down the faint grassy trail, where you heard loud music playing from his van. You rounded towards the back of the vehicle, the backdoors hanging open in both directions. That’s when you saw Eddie for the first time. 

It was like a scene from a sappy movie, where everything around you went into slow-motion and the world just stopped turning; it's as if nature paused its shift for the two of you. His dark curly locks were tied up, a few strands of hair hanging like ivy vines on his neck. He was wearing a Black Sabbath t-shirt and gray denim pants with handcuffs around his waist. The loud blaring of his guitar stopped when he narrowed his brown eyes towards you, like the world also stopped turning for him. “What are you playing?” You asked him while he drank a water bottle, his steady gaze still on your figure. “It’s an original. I’m still playing around with the chords, but I think it’s going well from there.” He placed his red guitar down, leaning it carefully against the wall before he sat at the end of his van, close to where you’re standing. "Is this what led you here?"

"That was you? It sounded like it was played from one of your records or something.” You sat next to him, your hips touching slightly against his. After he took another sip of his mineral water, he handed it to you with a small, endearing smile, gesturing you to take it. You smiled back at him, mindlessly placing the cap near your lips and flushed in embarrassment when you realized that you haven’t opened the bottle yet. Eddie chuckled softly at the sight, before he wrapped his fingers around yours on the water bottle to loosen the cap for you. “There you go.” He leaned back on his side, resting his weight on the palm of his hand. You tried not to stare too much but to no avail, you find yourself lingering at the sight of his bat tattoos. “Thanks.” You finally looked away then started drinking like a Nomad in the middle of a Sahara Desert. 

“So, what are you doing here? In the middle of the woods, I mean.” You set the empty bottle down on the space between you and Eddie. 

“Oh, my uncle kicked me out just this afternoon. He didn't want me to disturb his guest with solo practice.” The lids of Eddie’s eyes fluttered upwards to the sky, the blues settling down into a shade of orange. You can’t help but notice his vibrant brown eyes, the sweat trickling down the sides of his neck and his pink chapped lips. You wondered how someone like him could look so beautiful in the mellow glow of the summer heat. Icarus, who flew too close to the sun.

The humid afternoon air placed its fiery warm hands on your back, pushing you carefully towards him. Eddie stared back at you the moment you leaned in closely, his gaze traveling every delicate feature on your face. “I want to hear you play sometime.” You whispered into his ear, feeling the vibrations of your throat sending electric sparks all over your insides. Then that smile, that crazy grin of his, sent you into waves of unfamiliar, exciting emotions. 

You want him to smile at you like that forever. 

“I’ll be here whenever you need me.” He placed his hand on top of yours, feeling the warmness of his palm come into contact with the coldness of your sweaty backhand. Instead of thanking him like a simpleton, you find yourself touching his left cheek with your other palm, then slowly but surely kiss the skin closest to his lips with a flourish. 

The next thing you know, you find yourself around this part of the woods for quite some time. The unknowing trail became a familiar place to you, the anticipation creeping into your veins the moment you set foot on grassy paths, broken cobblestones and fallen branches. The smell of the smoky engine wafted your senses completely, making you break off into a sprint until you knocked repeatedly on the metal doors. He pulled you inside his van, his arms tightly wrapped around your back in a warm embrace. You both laughed like children, letting your bodies slowly drift into nerve-wrecking oblivion. 

His shoulders relaxed as you placed your fingers behind his neck, his steady breaths fanning against your skin. Your face was like a pleasing ladder to his eyes; he climbed at the sight of your lips, up to the bridges of your nose, then your eager eyes, covered slightly by the strands of your hair. He gently pushed it away with his thumb, then leaned his head to the side to press his soft lips against yours. Your lips moved with his, an easy rhythm you’ve memorized and pictured so vividly even when you're fast asleep. 

Both his hands traveled down to your waist, pressing his fingertips hungrily onto the fabric of your shorts. You grunted and bit his bottom lip mischievously, signalling him to carry you to his leather seats and set you down with his calloused palms, kneading the back of your thighs. He kneeled down in front of you and set your legs wide apart, before pressing his thumb to the wetness in between. “You’re getting wet down there, sweetheart. It’s a shame that it's still covered for me like that, would it?” He continued rubbing small circles onto the wet fabric of your shorts, sending you into a euphoric high of teasing pleasure. Your teeth sinked itself deeply into your lips, holding back a groan you so desperately want to let out as his index and middle finger swiped your covered folds like a credit card holder. 

Your back arched at the overpowering sensation, as you carried your hips closer to where his fingers played with your pussy. He started unbuttoning your shorts, then slid it down to your curled ankles along with your white floral-patterned panties. Out of impulse, your thighs closed itself like a clam, your bare sex flushed at Eddie’s ravenous sight. Slowly, he slid one hand in between your legs, which opened itself so eagerly to him like it had a mind of its own. He started rubbing and flicking your clit with his thumb, while the other sneaked itself under the hems of your shirt to pinch your hardened nipple. 

You gasped and roughly grabbed his bony wrist as he slid a finger inside of you, feeling the coldness of his metal ring hitting your warm folds. “Fuck, you’re so tight for me, sweetheart.” His large, expectant eyes found its way back to you, crazily grinning at the look on your face. You can’t help but drool when his index finger slithers side to side between your inner walls, not minding the sloppy sound it makes. You closed your eyes as he thrusted one more finger inside of you without any preparation whatsoever, which is something Eddie likes to do: surprise you. 

Both fingers slowly push themselves inside you; your mind going completely blank at the depth of his place. He pulled and pushed it back more rapidly, his fingertips pressing harder against your wet walls as you swallowed large gulps of saliva down your throat. Your muscles contracted as his swift fingers obliterated your pussy in painful yet wonderful delight, savoring every inside space as possible. Your feet lifted themselves off the ground, while he held your raised hips with his rough calloused hand; one that would surely leave a mark in the showers later. 

“I’m getting there, Eddie.” Your unsteady breaths made it harder for you to speak properly. You can’t even think clearly because of him. Everything from his soft long curls brushing past your shoulders to the hungry look in his eyes as he goes down on you. “Cum for me. I know how much you want to cum all over me.” Like a struck of lightning, he slid a third finger in between your petal-like folds and pushed it farther inside, to the point of absolutely no control. You rolled your eyes to the back of your head as you cursed his name over and over again, not wanting him to stop. With one final bounce, you shuddered under your raspy breath as his drenched fingers released itself from your stretched pussy. 

Eddie stood up from his knees and kissed you on the forehead, staring down at you with that dimpled smile of his. “Was I good?” He plopped himself down beside you and snuggled his head on your clavicle. Underneath all that confidence, there was a desperate tremor in his voice that you knew all too well. He wanted to be good for me, you smiled softly at the thought. 

He wrapped his arms around your shoulders and looked up at you expectantly, waiting for an answer. “What, why are you smiling?” Eddie asked, his smile slightly faltered. You faced him quickly, your body leaning slightly to his side. “You were amazing.” You gave him a small peck on the cheek. 

Now, there’s that amazing smile of his, shining brightly at you like those many times before. “You've also become a different person when you’re horny. You really like to talk me down, huh.” Eddie covered his eyes embarrassingly while laughing at your brutal honesty and critique. “I’ve always wanted to please you in the best way, that’s all.” He whispered into your ear as his hand scooched you closer to him, gently rubbing your sides with his palm. 

You grinned at his words from ear to ear, then subtly caressed his cheek with the small of your thumb, closing the tight space between you into a passionate kiss, letting his soft moans melt under your tongue. “I love you.” He muttered in between kisses; his brown eyes significantly locked into yours. You inhaled from surprising exhilaration, resting your forehead against his. 

“I love you too, Eddie.”

Wanting him is never the same without him. If only you knew that your careless past would come back and sabotage the one and only thing that’s good for you, you would’ve snatched the keys to his van and locked yourself inside, throwing away the keys until he comes back. 

By the time you ran out of things that reminded you of him, you pictured yourself regretfully harboring his love into permanent frames just to slip into your memories of him once more. That summer haunted the crevices of your mind like a dusty old paragraph fading into unrecognizable colors; barely even a photograph to look at. The summer of ‘86 ended like many summers before, yet you felt it in your heart that you would never find the courage to depart from it ever since.

I keep your picture

Upon the wall

It hides a nasty stain that's lying there

So, don't you ask me

To give it back

I know you know it doesn't mean that much to me

I'm not in love, no no, it's because...

The DnD session ended surprisingly successfully. Members older than Mike and Dustin were crying out of joy, while some applauded Erica Sinclair’s lucky draw, welcoming her officially early to the club. Your smile widened at the sight of her waving towards you in her cape, tiptoeing in the middle of the crowds to see you. 

Before you start to walk towards her, you caught a glimpse of Eddie heading out the front door with keys in his hand and a black metal box. It wasn’t like you expected him to talk to you after the campaign, but at the same time you felt a pang of pain tugging at the strings of your heart. You’d rather curl up inside your bed and ugly-cry under a blanket for hours than see him leave like that. As you tucked your camera into its old leather case, a small folded yellow paper slipped from the bottom edges of the case, like someone purposefully sneaked it in there while you weren’t looking. You picked it up and opened the contents of the yellow piece of paper, secretly hoping that it was for you. 

“Hey, it’s been a while. I don’t have the stomach to reconcile or anything, but Henderson asked me to be nice since you’re only taking pictures for the yearbook. It’s not like I wanted to bother you. I never even thought about it when you showed up with that camera you always bring around. Did your new, older boyfriend get that for you? Anyways, I’m pleased that you enjoyed the campaign tonight. It’s something I’ve specially crafted for weeks now. I guess all that hard work finally pays off when an outsider such as yourself finds it decent at best. Tell me when the photos arrive and keep an extra for me, will you? You always know where I am.” - Eddie.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things smut #stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson smut #joseph quinn #stranger things fanfiction

[thatfeelinwhenyou]

KINDRED — profile 1

It’s your final year of highschool, and your only goal is to graduate top of your cohort, as usual. Except as student council president, your advisor can’t seem to leave you alone. What happens when you take Decelis Academy’s top student, their star athlete and put them in front of a camera?

❥･• yn homework club

note: they are all 19 years of age except for ni-ki (17)

Park Y/N, Decelis Academy’s top student and President of the Student Council. You have never once lost the number 1 spot throughout your time at the academy and the faculty absolutely adores you. Nothing is more important to you than excelling in your academics, as your dear mother have told you multiple times that people only remember you when you’re at the top of the pyramid. Despite your name being well known and talked about among the student body, you often keep to yourself and the exception of your inner circle. Thinking with your head rather than your heart, you have a hard time empathising with people, which explains your relatively small friendship circle. Have the most insignificant beef with Yang Jungwon, which you instigated by the way, but you’d never admit that.

Huh Yunjin, president of Decelis Academy’s theatre club and most probably the closest person to a BFF to you. Imagine Regina George but minus the unhingeness, that’s Yunjin. Despite her popularity, she’s actually a really sweet angel and would 100% drop whatever she’s doing for you. You first met in freshman year and is inseparable ever since. Her personality type enables her to empathise with you more so than others and you appreciate her for that.

Chanelle Moon, executive commitee member of the Decelis Student Council. For her, you’d imagine Janis but minus the black gothy aesthetics. Probably the most unbothered and coolest person you know (provided you don’t know much people anyways). Similar to Yunjin, she’s your ride or die and you can always count on her to literally hiss at the girls who would pick on you in the library.

Shin Ryujin, president of Y/N’s fanclub. Would literally sell her soul to hold your hand. Came to know her through Yunjin. You used to find it weird that she would openly simp for you but now you’re just used to the unhinged shit that comes out of her mouth. Despite her undying devotion, she respects your boundaries. You call Ryujin, Yunjin, and Chanelle the powerpuff girls because of how protective they are of you.

Choi Beomgyu, member of Decelis Academy’s media club and your unofficial hype boy. You got to know him after he came to the council room looking for Taehyun. The two of you clicked immediately. You were aware of your ‘poor’ interpersonal skills and he was like your personal trainer, he’d call you out for being too straightforward or that you should smile more when addressing the student body. Without even noticing, you’d go to him for advice and he’s always more than happy to help (well in exchange for your chemistry notes and answers of course).

Nishimura Riki, member of Decelis Academy’s dance club. The only member in your small clique that’s currently in their Sophomore year. Despite the age difference between him and the rest of your group, he somehow managed to wiggle his way into your inner circle even though most people would just outright ignore you. The aura and pressure of being friends with the top student wasn’t the most appealing. At dance practice is where he first met Heeseung, Jay, and Jake before subsequently meeting Sunoo, Sunghoon, and Yang Jungwon.

Kim Gyuvin, member of Decelis Academy’s media club. He used to find you scarily intimidating but that was before he actually got to know and work with you during school events. Gyuvin is like the brother you never knew you had. You also find him pretty funny, though most of the time you end up laughing at him laughing rather than the joke he tells. Oh, he also has a super ugly dog, and you never fail to tell him that.

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♡。·˚˚· ·˚˚·。♡

authors note: ik it’s a little long 😅 but i figured it’ll make more sense if i explain their characters a little instead of just jumping straight into the smau like i did with hands on you

taglist open! send ask, comment or submit form to be added!

#enhypen #heeseung #jungwon #sunghoon #belift #hybe #jay #iland #jake #sunoo #niki #riki #high school #jungwon x reader #yang jungwon #enhypen scenarios #enhypen angst #enhypen social media au #enhypen smau #jungwon smau #yang jungwon x reader #tfwy kindred #tfwy smau

[loveinhawkins]

For the made up fic title game "1983 is Calling" bc 1983 by Neon Trees randomly came up on my Spotify lol

god i love this title so much. i think 1983 is calling has a Steve Harrington character study written all over it.

-

In the November of 1983, Steve Harrington’s world falls out from underneath him. When his feet finally find solid ground again, everything looks a little different, like he’s an Alice who’s grown just slightly too tall for his surroundings.

And maybe most people in his shoes would chalk that up to finding out that monsters are real, that a kid can come back from the dead. But Steve knows that’s not the whole truth.

What’s really tripping him up is the dangerously quiet anger he didn’t really know he was capable of; he spends many sleepless nights staring up at the ceiling, hearing his father’s words come out in his voice, slipping through clenched teeth, finish the sentence.

It’d be easy to brush it off after the quite frankly insane series of events he’s lived through, to claim that wasn’t me.

But it was. It was.

It’s not a dramatic transformation. If anyone was really looking out for it, maybe they’d notice him being just a touch more reserved in school. Slower to react, more careful with his words.

He doesn’t sit with Tommy and Carol in the cafeteria—and while there’s an ache in that decision which he steadfastly ignores, he finds that he doesn’t really mind sitting alone sometimes.

In the quiet, he has more time to think. He tries to keep his assumptions in check, finds that he cares less and less about cliques—does his best to ensure that his first thought about someone isn’t a judgement.

He remembers the casual indifference he had when watching Jonathan Byers put up a poster for his missing brother. His unbothered drawl, God, that’s depressing.

Never again, he decides.

Above all, he doesn’t want to be cruel.

One lunch, he sits with Jonathan, and they swap pudding cups, Steve trading chocolate for butterscotch.

“I… listen, Jonathan, I shouldn’t… shouldn’t have said what—what I said,” he starts, awkwardly, inadequately. “About. About your mom, and your family, and…”

It horrifies him still, the words that came out so easily, never mind if they were echoes of things he heard.

Joyce Byers is one of the strongest people he knows.

“Thanks,” Jonathan says, delayed. He smiles tightly, but Steve knows it’s not personal, that the guy’s still on edge from… everything.

Steve smiles back.

But there’s still a thorn that he hasn’t quite prised out.

“And I…” He lowers his voice. “I shouldn’t have called you that. Y’know.”

Jonathan’s eyebrows go up. “No,” he says mildly. “You shouldn’t have.”

“I…” Steve rubs a hand over his mouth. “I hate that… there’s nothing bad about…”

Jesus, what’s wrong with him?

Jonathan’s expression softens. He blinks, and he has that pensive look on his face, like he’s seeing the world through a camera lens—like the flash has lit up something unknown.

“I agree,” he says quietly, and then he digs into his pudding and asks genuinely about Steve’s holiday plans, talks about getting Will an Atari for Christmas.

At New Year, Steve is abruptly conscious of the fact that he really, really needs to look like he’s having a good time. He doesn’t want to analyse who the performance is for. If it’s for himself, he’s not convinced.

But drink dulls the anxiety; he laughs a lot, sways with Nancy in his arms because that’s what he’s supposed to do.

Even in the euphoria of the midnight countdown, he can see Nancy smiling too brightly, like her face might crack with the strain.

Do you feel it, too? he almost asks. Are we always gonna be back there? Are we always gonna be running from it?

The semester after winter break starts off reluctantly.

There’s a few classes with mixed year groups: they get an absolute horror of a substitute teacher in second period, one who insists on them copying things word for word from the blackboard. She makes her funeral march down the desks and shouts at a student for mis-spelling ‘January.’

“Psst,” comes a voice, before she reaches Steve.

He looks over to see Eddie Munson in the seat next to him, handing over an eraser.

“Wrong year, Harrington,” he whispers.

Steve glances down at his paper. Sure enough, 1983 stares back at him from the top margin.

Steve scoffs. “Figures.” He uses the eraser and passes it back to Eddie. “Thanks.”

“No problem. I wish we were still on vacation, too.”

“Eddie Munson.” The teacher slams a ruler down on Eddie’s desk so hard that Steve flinches. “Shall I send you outside for talking?”

“Oh, no, ma’am,” Eddie says, without missing a beat, “I’ll surely cry. Profusely.”

As other students stifle giggles, Steve manages to write the date down correctly before the teacher peers over his shoulder.

He can’t help noticing that even with the eraser, there’s still an imprint: 1983 faintly engraved on the page.

Well, Steve thinks wryly, so it goes.

#steve harrington fic #steve harrington hc #steve harrington analysis #steve and jonathan #steve and nancy #pre steddie #steve harrington ficlet #steve harrington #made up fic titles

[hongcherry]

pretty please (stay with me) || c.sc | 4 (m)

“After being assigned a fashion show for your big senior project, you set off to find volunteers to make it successful. However, when you meet Choi Seungcheol and his unfriendly clique through your volunteers, you realize they’re an unwanted package deal you can’t escape from. Can you handle Seungcheol’s obnoxious friends, and can he handle your brash behavior?”

🍒 Pairing: businessMajor!Seungcheol x fashionMajor!Reader (afab)

🍒 Rating/Genres/AUs: M(18+); Slice of life (!!!), slow burn, drama, fluff, angst, smut; Unrequited enemies to lovers, strangers to lovers, college au

🍒 Warnings: General tws + alcohol consumption/drunk character, one physical altercation (not domestic abuse; not between mc&Cheol), name calling not in bed (whore, bitch), vomit, joke about murder | [smut warnings] soft sex, messy sex, protected sex, oral (m & f), face fucking, gagging, light breast play, cum swallowing, light cum play, spit play

🍒 WC: 12.1k

🍒 Betas: Sarah, Indi, Kelly, Freya 💝

🍒 Author’s Note: I am SO sorry I haven't replied to some of your responses to the last chapter. Something big happened IRL that made me want to withdraw from people for a while. Though, I've read the feedback and appreciate all the sweet words! I promise to reply to them soon. Anyway, lots of stuff happening in this chapter, so please enjoy more drama 😬💖

also read here: AO3 | Wattpad

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“Hold still!” you urge as you try to hold the fabric in place.

Mingyu squirms above you, tiny giggles escaping his mouth. “It tickles!”

“I’m going to stab you with this needle if you keep moving,” you explain and peer up at him.

“I’ll tell your boyfriend you said that,” he grumbles and calms his movements. His hands clench as he tries to resist the need to move.

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” you reply, annoyed. You adjust the fabric on him, then slip in a needle to keep it in place.

“I’m sure Seungcheol won’t be happy to hear that,” he mutters.

Your eyes narrow, poking another needle in.

“Ow!” Mingyu cries and moves away from you. “That was on purpose.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Was it? I think you just moved wrong.”

“I didn’t move at all!” he argues.

You ignore his complaint and point back in front of you. He sighs, obliging to your request. 

You had met Mingyu at his apartment to try out the outfit you made for him. For the most part, it fits nicely, but there are a few adjustments that need to be made.

You hear keys rattling at the door and peer your head to see who’s coming. Wonwoo and Seungkwan stroll in. They stop mid-sentence when they see you.

“Hey Yn, we didn’t know you’d be here,” Seungkwan greets. You turn away from them and attend to Mingyu again.

“Surprise,” you say, although with no enthusiasm in your tone.

“What’s going on?” Wonwoo asks while setting down his camera bag. He tosses his keys next to it and walks to the kitchen.

“Yn’s stabbing me with needles because I brought up her boyfrie—Ow!”

“Oops,” you shrug. You quickly pin the fabric in its new spot. You didn’t think it'd take this long, but Mingyu kept fidgeting.

“You have a boyfriend?” asks Seungkwan.

“No,” you reply curtly. “Done. Now, go take it off, so I can make the changes.”

“Finally,” Mingyu replies and leaves without another word. He probably doesn’t want to be poked with another needle.

“Who was he talking about then?” Seungkwan wonders.

“No one. How are you guys?” you ask in hopes to change the subject. You start repacking the bag you brought.

“Pretty tired, but that seems to be the normal life of a college student,” Seungkwan says with a chuckle.

“How’s the project?” Wonwoo chimes in, a glass of water in his hand.

You stand up from the floor and adjust your clothes. “It’s going,” you answer with an exhale.

“Are tickets on sale for it yet?” he questions. You pause in grabbing your purse from the couch.

“You’re going to go to it?” you ask, not expecting him to come. It doesn’t seem like his thing.

“Of course! We’re all planning to come—Shit, wait, was that a secret?” Seungkwan stops himself, his hand coming up to his forehead as his mouth opens.

“Dude!” Mingyu calls as he emerges from the other room. He hands you the garment, eyeing Seungkwan.

“Blame Wonwoo! He brought up getting tickets,” Seungkwan whines and sends a slender finger in Wonwoo’s direction.

“No one told me we weren't supposed to tell Yn,” Wonwoo huffs.

“Seungcheol’s going to rip you all a new one,” Mingyu tsks.

“Seungcheol?” you question and look at the tall man.

Has Seungcheol been planning for all of them to come to your show?

“Uh, a d-different Seungcheol. Not the one you know. Kim Seungcheol! Not Choi Seungcheol. Youdon’tknowhim,” Mingyu rambles, words rushing together. His gaze is darting around the room—landing on anything but your eyes.

“I see,” you say slowly. You know they’re aware you don’t believe Mingyu’s lie.

“Please don’t say anything to him,” Mingyu pleads, his lower lip sticking out in a pout. He’s such a big puppy.

You sigh, fixing your bag on your shoulder. “Say what to who?”

“Precisely.” Seungkwan smiles.

You make your way to the door, turning after you open it.

“I'll text you when we can meet again, Mingyu,” you inform him.

“Alright. Bye, Yn,” he replies. They all give you a wave as you exit their place.

You aren’t sure what to do with knowing Seungcheol is coming to the show. More unexpectedly, you don’t know what to do knowing he’s arranging for his friends to come too. You aren’t even sure if your father and Seoah will come. You’ll like to say that you don’t care if no one you know shows up. As long as scouts come and are amazed by your work, that’s all you need. Though the more you grow fond of these people, the more you want them to be your friends and support you like how Dae supports you. Beyond that, you want Seungcheol to support you—to be proud of you. Even though you aren’t supposed to know about his attendance, it gives you a sudden boost of motivation to do better. Not only for yourself but for your friends so they can be proud to say they know you.

You arrive at Dae’s fully prepared to have a sewing partner for the night. However, you end up with a shot glass in your hand at a bar.

“To almost being done with this project,” Dae declares, her glass rising in the air.

“What you said,” you reply. You clink your glass against hers, tapping it on the counter, then tipping your head back as you drown the alcohol. The burning in your throat is temporary, and you turn in your seat to look around while it settles. The place is crowded, as expected on a Friday night.

Dae had worked for twenty minutes before she let out a frustrated puff of air. She claimed she was tired of staring at fabric and needed a break. You suggested she go rest on the couch, but her idea of taking a break was different from yours. Despite your protests, Dae dragged you from her home and got a ride to her favorite bar. You used to accompany Dae here a lot, but you were never a drinker, and you often had to tend to your family most nights. Thus, your trips became less frequent.

Although Dae’s goal is to get drunk, yours is not. You’ve taken two shots and plan to call it a night. You don’t want to spend the night babysitting Dae, but it seems you have no choice. She’s dragged you from one bar to another—ordering a drink at each. She’ll offer you a sip, and each time, you shake your head.

The occasional person will slither up and offer to pay for your drinks. It’s annoying because you don't need to cater to boosting a stranger’s ego. They always want something in return, and you’re not going to give them anything. 

You decline politely the first time, sternly the second, and bitchy the third. The ones who get the third “no” are less thrilled to hear it, but that doesn’t bother you. You are fully prepared to use your heels as a weapon if one gets too offended. Luckily, that hasn’t had to happen so far.

“Hm, ‘tis one tastes like… ‘otton ‘andy!” Dae exclaims excitedly as she takes another sip. You watch her redden-face light up for the nth time while drinking this one. “’ou should try it!”

You force a smile and shake your hand, telling her no. Her face drops.

“But you wuv ‘otton ‘andy,” she whines and slides the drink to you. Her eyes become glossier the longer you refuse the drink. “I pwomise ‘ou’d wuv it!”

You glance at the drink. It’s a pretty blue color and looks appetizing. Sighing, you raise the glass to your mouth. You let the liquid touch your lips, then set it down. Your tongue darts out to taste it. You have to admit, the small drop you get does taste good.

“Delicious,” you hum, giving her a big smile. Her body straightens quickly, and you grab her arm when she leans a little too far back.

“Shee!” she beams.

“Finish it, so we can go,” you instruct, moving the glass back. There isn’t much left. She shakes her head.

“You!” she answers.

“You deserve it more. You’ve been working hard,” you say. Her brows suddenly tilt down, mouth in a deep frown. She looks like she’s about to cry.

“’ve been! Gawd I’m sh-o tired, but I ‘ave to do goodth,” she says and puts her head on the table, although harder than she means to. You wince at the loud thud. “Can’t let ‘tis go to ‘atse.”

You place a hand on her back, rubbing soothing circles. “It won’t. Someone’s going to come and see your work and offer you a job. You’re talented, Dae.”

Her head lifts up, bobbing slightly at the weight. “Yeah?”

“Yes,” you answer, and you mean it. You don’t compliment her work as much as she does yours. It’s always easier not to mention it instead of risking a heartfelt conversation. Those always make you feel weird. “You’re not top of the class for no reason.”

She shakes her head. “’ou’re top of ta class.”

“I didn’t say you were the only one up there,” you tease gently, causing her to giggle.

“’m glad ‘ou think that o’ me,” she answers with a loud sigh. “It’s ‘ard to be compar’d to ‘ou.”

You try to hide your frown. She rarely mentions how being associated with you affects her. Sure, you’ve guessed before, but you’ve never brought up the topic. Partly because you’re afraid of the answer. You don’t want to hear how you’ve made her feel insecure. You don’t want to know all the troubles you’ve indirectly or directly put her through.

Although it will be easier to talk about this when she’s intoxicated since she may not remember it, it isn’t right.

“Don’t compare. You have talents I don’t have,” you say.

“’ike?” she wonders, but you shake your head.

“We can talk about it when you’re sober,” you explain. After making sure everything is paid for, you gently help her down the stool.

“’ne’ore bar!” she begs, hands holding your arms tightly.

“One more,” you repeat, “but a small drink this time,” you bargain.

“Ye’sh!” she shouts, throwing her arms up and tripping over her feet. You reach out quickly and steady her. Once she’s balanced again, you carefully walk toward the exit. You lean Dae against you to try to get her to stop swaying as you walk to the next bar.

“’ey! Whadd’s ‘at?” Dae quickly points to the floor, reaching down before you can stop her. The fast movement combined with the shift in weight has her falling to the floor. You instinctively reach out to ease her fall, but it’s no use. She’s on the floor before you can blink. There is laughter behind you, but you ignore it. It isn’t the first time someone’s fallen over from being drunk on this street.

“Fhuck!” Dae whines and stares at her hands. There are a few concrete burns on them, but nothing antibiotics and band-aids can’t fix.

“I think we’re done for the night,” you say and offer a hand to her. 

She repositions to her hands and knees, reaching up to grab your outstretched hand. However, her supporting arm isn’t strong enough to hold her weight, and the sudden tug on your hand as she falls again forces you to the floor. You hit her head on the way down, yelping at the feeling and letting go of Dae to caress the area. Additionally to the thud, there is a crack as you fall. 

For a second you think you broke something. Though, besides the soreness on your hands, knees, and head, nothing feels broken. You move your legs to rest in front of you only to see one of your shoes has lost its heel piece.

The giggles behind you grow louder.

“How pathetic,” a voice laughs. It’s familiar, but you dismiss it to be someone you heard in one of the bars you went to.

“Really,” another person adds.

You dust off your legs, seeing matching red on your exposed skin. Dae’s sudden loud voice makes you jump.

“’ere it is!” Dae announces happily. Her hand comes into view, and in it is a coin. Your shoulders sag.

All this for a coin.

“You’re going to spend that on buying me a new pair of shoes,” you huff, removing your heels. It isn’t ideal to walk barefoot, but you don’t feel like hobbling your way around.

“No!” she cries and moves the coin from you quickly. Her movement is too big and quick, and you have to grab her again before she falls backward. You swiftly tug her upright.

“Just stop moving!” you growl and tighten your hold on her to keep her still.

“Wait, is that Yn?” someone says behind you. At the sound of your name, you glance over your shoulder. As if your night can get worse.

Hajun sputters, a smile growing at the sight of you. “Oh my god, it is. No wonder they are so pitiful.”

“Both of them,” Hana giggles.

“Of course, you befriend those similar to you. It’s only right they’re friends.”

Your eyes narrow on them, hand twitching as you fight the urge to chuck your non-broken heel at their faces.

“Isn’t that right?” you scoff. “You’re both pieces of shit and friends. Wow! Truly a match.”

You clasp your hands together, voice going higher as you pretend you’re elated for them.

“Says the whores who are on the floor. It’s where you belong anyway,” Hajun replies, arms crossing over her chest.

“And you know where you belong? Beaten and bruised in the hospital. I can help with that,” you threaten and start to stand up to do just that. However, there is wetness spreading on your lower half accompanied by gagging. You gasp at the sensation and look down to see what happened.

Your night definitely just got worse.

Dae has emptied her stomach and looks like she’s about to do it again. You scramble up and move aside, grabbing her hair to hold it back as you try to block out the sound of her hurling. You hate that you can feel her vomit trailing down your legs now that you are upright on your knees. The thought alone has you almost joining her.

“Oh, this is just perfect,” Hana laughs.

“Where’s my phone? I need a picture,” Hajun says and pats her body in search of the device.

“A picture of what?” a new voice questions. Joshua walks from behind them. Great.

“That,” Hajun replies with a laugh. You quickly glance down, letting your hair fall into your face so he can’t see you. You don’t need more people who know you see your current situation.

“Leave them alone, guys,” Joshua says. You start to panic when you hear footsteps. Though, the person doesn’t get far.

“You’re right, we should just go,” Hajun answers. “Come on.”

There's a shuffling of feet before footsteps occur again, but away from you this time. You sigh internally and turn back to Dae.

“You okay?” you question.

“I-I thwink you’re right. ‘hat was-h the las’bar,” Dae groans, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

“Let’s get home,” you instruct and grab her hands slowly. You don’t want her to throw up again from moving too fast.

“Where did they go?” another voice asks from afar.

“They said they would wait outside the door.”

Your body tenses at the voice. You are imagining it. Your brain is just choosing the worst time to think of him. It’s all in your head.

“Over here!” Hana calls out.

You steadily stand up with Dae, her arms gripping yours tightly.

“Easy,” you speak calmly. Your gaze drops to your discarded shoes on the floor. You want to pick them up, but you’re afraid of letting go of Dae. Sighing, you decide to leave them.

“’m shorry,” she mumbles as you take a step forward. You want to find a bench you can both rest on as you wait for a ride.

“Ah, they’re over there, let’s go,” the first voice says.

“Just wait a minute. They look like they need help.”

No. No, you don’t need help.

“Where are you going? They’re fine!” Hajun calls out. You turn Dae around and start the other way.

The feet are jogging toward you now. You have no other choice but to prepare to see the last person on your desired visiting list. There’s no way you can transport yourself and Dae away before he reaches you.

“Hey, do you need a han—C-Cherry?” Seungcheol stutters when he comes next to you. You slow in your steps, reluctantly looking up to see him.

“No. We’re fine,” you reply sternly. Despite your answer, Seungcheol puts an arm around Dae to offer more support. You stand your ground and don’t let her go.

“Who-sh ‘erry?” Dae wonders.

“No one,” you tell her and then look at him, “Seungcheol, let her go. I’ve got her.”

“What’s going on?” Joshua’s face suddenly pops up behind Seungcheol. Seungcheol stops walking, and unless you want to play tug-o-war with Dae, you have to stop too.

“Yn?” he asks, shocked. Then his gaze goes behind him. He makes a disappointing noise. “No wonder they wanted us to leave so fast.”

“What are you talking about, Shua?” Seungcheol questions. He still hasn’t let go of Dae.

“Ha—” Joshua starts but stops when Hajun’s voice sounds.

“Oh my, is that Yn? Oh no!”

Hajun appears in front of you. Your first instinct is to punch her; that’s evident in the way your hand fists in a ball at your side.

“Are you okay? Do you need a ride?” she looks at you with a worried expression. Your mouth drops slightly at her unexpected reaction. A few minutes ago she was a devil, but now she is an angel? Since when does she pretend to be nice?

“’uck off,” Dae mumbles. You let out a silent laugh and glance at her. She looks exhausted and dizzy, yet her eyes are on Hajun.

“M-me? But I’m just trying to help.”

“Oh, really? How does taking a picture of us help?” you wonder.

“What picture?” Seungcheol questions.

“I don’t know what she’s talking about,” Hajun answers, looking at him innocently. Your gaze moves to Seungcheol briefly. Did he say something to her, or is she trying a different tactic to get his sympathy?

“Yes, you do,” Joshua says.

“Shua! No, I don’t,” she whines and gives him a sad expression.

You do not have time for her games.

“Can you all just go away? I’m trying to get Dae home,” you sigh.

“Hm, ‘hat’ould be nice,” Dae mumbles.

“You’re right. We’re sorry to be bothering you. Come on, boys. We have another place to be,” Hajun concurs, gesturing to the rest of the group who lingers a few feet away.

“You guys can go without me. I’ll help them get home,” Seungcheol says. You whip your gaze to him, eyes narrowing in hopes it’ll make him leave. Though, your threatening glare has no effect on him.

“I’ll help, too,” Joshua adds.

“W-what? But we need you guys. They’ll be fine,” Hajun pleads.

Seungcheol chuckles dryly. “I doubt you need us to watch a movie.”

“For fuck’s sake, all of you leave now!” you growl, a headache sprouting. Your clothes are damp, your feet are aching, and your patience is gone.

“I’m not leaving,” Seungcheol says.

“Yes, you are. Go away!” you snap and shove at his arm that is on Dae.

“Don’t talk to him like that,” Hajun hisses and pushes you as if to get you back for shoving Seungcheol.

Oh, you are so over this girl.

Knowing Seungcheol is still holding Dae, you slip away from her and take a step toward Hajun. You reach out quickly when she tries to move away.

“Let go, psycho!” Hajun cries, innocent voice gone and back to how it normally is. You grip her arm tighter when she tugs on it.

“Remember what I said? Beaten and bruised in the hospital, bitch,” you snarl, fully preparing to swing a fist at her disgusting face. 

Someone suddenly pulls you away, forcing your hand to let go of her.

“You’re such a fucking freak,” Hajun growls.

With all your might, you push away from whoever is holding you. You only have one thought in mind as you accost her again. Needing to act fast, you don’t hesitate to reel your hand back before connecting your palm roughly against her cheek.

Hajun shrieks loudly and places a hand on her face in surprise.

“Yn!” you hear Seungcheol scold but ignore him.

Hajun lunges toward you, but before she can do anything, you’re grabbed and twirled around to face the opposite direction. You stumble forward in their grasp when Hajun bumps into you both, unable to stop her momentum. You figure Seungcheol is the one who stops you, but when you raise your eyes, you see him still holding Dae, who is quickly falling asleep. Your head snaps up to see Joshua behind you.

“If you don’t let go of me, I will claw your eyes out,” you warn him. Joshua’s eyes widen at you before peering at Seungcheol.

“This is what turns you on?” he asks Seungcheol.

“What?” you and Hajun say in unison. Seungcheol glares at Joshua but says nothing of it. If you weren’t so occupied with the situation at hand, you may have let that sink in more.

“Don’t tell me you like her!” Hajun scoffs.

Seungcheol’s jaw clenches as he averts his gaze from Joshua to Hajun. “Go with the others.”

“Are you serious, Cheollie? You can do better than that. She’ll just make your life miserable,” Hajun exasperates.

You glance up at Joshua, battling your eyelashes at him. You change your tone to sound sweeter. “If I say pretty please, will you let me go? I promise to leave one eye in.”

“Charming,” he answers with a small laugh and then flickers his gaze back to Seungcheol. “I see the appeal now.”

“Shua!” Hajun screeches, betrayal in her voice. You send her a smirk and shrug. She looks like she is ready to lunge at you, but Joshua still stands between you two.

“Joshua, can you give me your keys?” Seungcheol asks. Joshua digs out his keys from his pocket with one hand, keeping the other around you in case you decide to escape. He tosses them toward Seungcheol and he catches them with ease. Seungcheol doesn’t say anything else as he picks up Dae in his arms, then walks down the sidewalk.

“Cheol!” Hajun calls out. He pauses to peer back.

“Go with the others, Hajun. I’m not going back,” he replies before continuing his walk. You stare at his back, a little dumbstruck that he’s actually helping you rather than leaving you for his friends.

Joshua releases his hold and begins to follow Seungcheol. He stops when you don't move.

“I’m not dumb enough to leave you together. Let’s go, Yn,” he says and grabs your wrist.

You open your mouth to get the last word, but the look of utter betrayal on Hajun’s face is satisfying enough. Thus, you let Joshua pull you away from her.

When you arrive at Joshua’s car, Seungcheol closes the door after putting Dae inside. She’s passed out now. You place a hand on the handle, ready to climb inside, but Seungcheol stops you.

“Now’s not the time to be chivalrous, Cheollie,” you say, voice a little mocking at the nickname Hajun uses for him.

“You’re not going with him,” he answers firmly.

Seungcheol puts his focus on Joshua and says, “Text me when you get home safely. Thanks for taking care of her.”

“It’s no problem. See you guys!” he replies and gets in the driver’s seat.

“He’s taking Dae to her home? I should go, so I can take care of her,” you explain and take a step toward the car. Seungcheol grabs your upper arm and pulls you away.

“No, he’s taking her to his. She’ll wake up confused, but she’ll be safe. Now, let’s go,” he answers. He lets go of you and walks in the other direction.

“Go where?” you huff, watching Joshua drive off for a few seconds before jogging to catch up. He doesn’t reply. You roll your eyes and keep following him.

A sudden pain in your foot has you gasping, wrapping a hand around it, and looking down to see what you stepped on.

“Stupid rock,” you mumble while glancing down at the damned stone.

“Where are your shoes?” Seungcheol asks, stopping a little ways ahead. You would have thought he’d noticed earlier, but you guess he was more focused on other stuff.

“Ruined,” you shrug and gently put your foot down. You start walking again, limping as you go. It isn’t bleeding, but the area is a little sensitive.

Seungcheol takes a few big steps toward you.

“Didn’t I tell you not to walk barefoot?” he questions before picking you up without warning. Usually, you would whine, but your feet are aching from the rugged terrain so you let him carry you.

“Hm, did you? I guess I didn’t hear,” you answer, snaking an arm around his shoulders.

Seungcheol doesn’t reply, his focus in front of him. Like before, he rests you on his shoes while he opens the door.

“I don’t want to ruin your car,” you say, gesturing to the throw up on your clothes. You’re sure you’ve already ruined his clothes, but you’re nervous about being trapped in a small area with him now.

“I don’t care. Get in,” he replies. You hesitate long enough for Seungcheol to gently nudge you.

“Alright, alright,” you murmur and climb in. Despite your worry about dirtying his expensive car, you can’t stop your body from sinking into his comfortable seats. You’re tired mentally and physically, so it feels nice to finally sit down.

You expect Seungcheol to lecture you about anything and everything, but instead, he remains silent as he drives off. The tense quietness has you shifting in your seat. You look at Seungcheol, noticing the way he is tightening and untightening his grip on the wheel. Due to his short-sleeved shirt, you can see the way his muscles are flexing at the action.

Your gaze trails down his forearms, stopping when you spot the two bracelets you and Seoah made him. Your lips start to curl into a smile at seeing them. Although you had secretly hoped he’d wear them, you weren’t sure if he would. You feel a small sense of pride fill your chest before you remember the predicament you are in.

The grin quickly drops as your eyes go back to his face—jaw clenched and eyes firmly on the road ahead.

“You can’t be mad at me,” you say to break the silence. “She had that coming. You should be rather proud, actually. I’ve been wanting to do that for a long ti—”

“What were you doing out there?” he asks. You stop, eyebrows knitting together at his strange topic change.

“W-what? We were just drinking. Well, Dae was. I was just there to be a good friend,” you answer.

“Where was your ride?”

“I was about to call one,” you say.

His lips dip lower than they already are. “You shouldn’t use those services. They’re dangerous.”

“Oh, right. I’ll call my private chauffeur next time,” you reply sarcastically.

“You can call me,” he says as if it’s the obvious thing to do.

You laugh. “You’re the last person I would call.”

“Why is that?” he questions and looks at you finally. The red light shines an eerily glow on his face.

You shrug and peer away, not wanting to see him so…. disappointed? Mad? Dejected?

“You’re not my friend.”

“I’m not your friend?” he repeats with a scoff. At the green light, he drives again.

You stay silent this time.

“So, I invite you to dinner—twice—”

“Actually, the first wasn’t really a dinner,” you say.

Seungcheol takes a deep breath, and you can tell he’s trying not to get any more frustrated. You bite the inside of your cheek and fiddle with your clothes. He waits to see if you will say anything else before continuing.

“I drive you places. I pay for your food, I let you stay at my place. All because I’m what? A stranger to you?”

“I—Well,” you mumble. You don’t have anything to say to that because it’s true. He did all those things. It’s unlikely a stranger would do that. Maybe some of them once, but not multiple times like he has.

“Hey, wait, this isn’t the way to my house,” you observe outside. The area isn’t familiar to you.

“Hm,” he hums.

“You’re not about to murder me and chop up my body in little bits, right?” you ask, worried.

“No,” he answers. “That’ll take too long. I’d just—”

“Cheol!” you interrupt, not wanting to hear him actually say those words.

“Kidding,” he says.

He takes a long inhale, releasing it after a few seconds. You stay silent for the rest of the car ride. There is a strange part of you that wants him to rest his hand on you like he usually does, but that isn’t appropriate right now. Not to mention, most friends don’t do that.

You recognize the neighborhood as you near his apartment. It’s clear he had set his mind on coming here, so there isn’t a point in demanding he takes you home.

Seungcheol leads you directly to his bedroom with his hand in yours. He drops it once he stands in front of his closet. Watching him silently, he shuffles through his clothes before plucking off an item from its hanger. He quickly moves to his dresser and grabs two more pieces. He brings them to his bathroom, setting them on the counter. You follow him slowly. You hate how quiet he was. It’s unnerving.

“Shower and meet me in the living room,” he instructs. When your mouth opens, he quickly adds, “No arguing.”

“I-I was just going to say okay,” you explain. If it wasn’t for the stench of Dae’s vomit, maybe you would have argued. Though right now, you’re just eager to get out of your clothes.

“Good,” he replies. He leaves the room, shutting the door behind him.

The feel of hot water running down your sore body has you sighing out. Even his water pressure is perfect against your body. You could’ve stayed in there for hours, but you don’t want his water bill to soar, and you don’t want to turn into a wrinkly rat. With both these in mind, you finish hastily.

The clothes he has picked out are a hoodie, boxers, and shorts. You disregard the part of your mind that’s silently freaking out about wearing his clothes. 

They are clothes. Just clothes. 

It’s not a big deal. 

Granted, most things are never a big deal, but you always make them out to be.

You dry your hair as much as you can before silently walking out of his room, seeing him dressed in shorts and a long-sleeved sweater. He must have changed while you were showering. He glances up when he hears the floors creak, eyes dropping down to your exposed skin.

“Are you cold? Should I get you pants?” he asks and starts to stand up. You put out a hand.

“It’s okay,” you say and sit down a good ways away from him. You tuck your legs under you, leaning sideways into his couch so you can look at him.

“You could’ve taken me home,” you say quietly.

“My place was closer,” he says as if that really makes a difference. You hum and cast your eyes on your lap.

“You can go back to your friends if you want. I’m fine now.”

Seungcheol exhales a breath. “What happened before I showed up?”

You play with the hem of the hoodie as you speak.

“Dae got drunk. She fell and took me down with her. Your friends showed up, and said some insulting stuff, as always. Dae threw up. Then you came.” Your answer is short and concise. There’s no reason to go into extreme details. He knows how his friends speak about you. At least how they did speak about you.

His eyes flicker over your body, stopping on your knees with a frown. There are small scratches from when you fell, but they don’t hurt much. They just feel like tiny paper cuts.

“Oh, Shua said he arrived at their place safely. Dae’s sleeping in his room right now,” Seungcheol informs. You nod.

“I’ll have to tell him thanks later,” you reply.

There is silence for a moment.

“Why did you hit Hajun?” Seungcheol asks. He watches you attentively, eyes roaming your face.

You try to stop the scoff from escaping, but you fail. “I think the question you should be asking instead is, ‘Why did you wait so long to do it?’”

Seungcheol purses his lips as he stares at you unamused. You sigh. You aren’t expecting him to bellow a laugh, but you at least hoped for… something less scolding.

“As I said, she wasn’t saying nice things, and she put her hands on me. I was tired of her bullshit. Are you mad at me because of it?” you ask. Even though you expect him to say yes, you hope he says no. You don’t want him to be mad at you. Especially when you feel you are in the right.

Seungcheol runs a hand through his hair, gaze tearing from yours momentarily. You eye the way his hair falls back into place easily. It’s almost mesmerizing to watch.

“I don’t know,” he finally answers.

“I see,” you say and readjust yourself on the couch. You let your legs dangle off the furniture while your back rests against the cushions. It hurts to see he still isn’t completely on your side. Even though you’re the one he left with, you can tell she is still in his mind. Your heart twists painfully at that.

“You should know if I were given the option, I would still do it again,” you further explain. No reason to make yourself seem like someone you’re not. You can call out how fake she was when she acted concerned, but what’s the point? Tear her down to boost you up? He probably already thinks badly of you. Maybe it’s better if he hates you. Easier, even.

You’re not sure what else to say, and he seems to be lost in his own thoughts. You carefully rise to your feet.

“I’ll take the guest bedroom,” you announce. You take four steps before Seungcheol speaks.

“I’m not mad at you.”

You turn to look at him and then answer, “It’s okay if you are. I hit your friend. It’s understandable to be upset with me.”

“I should be,” he starts, “but I’m not.”

“And why is that?”

“Because I know how she treats you.”

Ah, so he is aware.

“That’s nice,” you mumble, unable to hide the sass in your reply.

“I don’t like it.”

You shift your weight. You feel like what he said is a joke.

“Really? Because you seem to have no problem with it.”

“That’s not true,” he argues.

“It’s not? But you always let it happen.”

“I don’t. I can’t control what they say every time. I’m sorry they do that to you, but—”

“You’re not sorry. No, you can’t control their voices, but you can control who you befriend,” you reply.

“I can’t just drop them as friends,” he sighs.

“Why not? You really want to hang out with people who talk nothing but crap about me?” You don’t understand him. Some sentences make it seem like he’s on your side, and some seem like he isn’t. Does he really care about you?

“I’ve known them for a long time. We’re in group projects together. I see them too much to just cut off ties,” he reasons.

You nod. You get it. There is more to lose if he leaves them. Why is he even talking to you in the first place? He isn’t helping with your project and you don’t have history, so there’s no purpose to be around you.

“Then stop talking to me,” you suggest.

“What?” Seungcheol asks, taken aback.

“I can’t be around you when you’re friends with them. They’ve always got shit to say. You befriend people with similar attitudes,” you say, recalling what Hajun and Hana had said earlier. You don’t like them, but they were right about one thing. 

“What makes you think I see you any different than them” you add. “Hell, you could be talking shit about me too. Do you all laugh about me in those little study rooms?”

“You really think I would do that to you?” he questions. His lips are set in a frown; he sounds hurt. Seungcheol leans forward to rest his elbows on his bent knees.

“I don’t know. You don’t really stick up for me when they do,” you say.

He sighs loudly, head in his hands, as he takes a few breaths. He’s in the same mental position as when he was in the café—torn between two different groups of friends.

You don’t want him out of your life, despite thinking differently when you first met him, but you don’t know if you can tolerate his friends much longer.

Your words are spoken softly, yet sternly. “When I leave in the morning, I don’t want you contacting me anymore.”

The sentence is similar to what you told him in the café, but this time, you will make sure that truly happens. 

Seungcheol’s head pops up as you are turning around. You anticipate for him to call out or to rush to stop you, but none of those things happen. You make it to the spare bedroom and shut the door without Seungcheol’s interference. You hate that is the case. Though maybe it means it’ll be easy to go the next day.

There is a movement to your left, and you jump back in surprise. You turn only to see your reflection in a mirror. Goodness, you are so out of it. Your eyes linger on yourself. Your hair is slightly damp from the shower. Your makeup is mostly gone, but you can still spot a few smudges on your skin you couldn’t get off earlier. You look so different than what you are used to, but that is probably due to the change of attire.

You can’t remember the last time you wore a hoodie—a proper one. Not some fancy one that was more for style than actual comfort. His hoodie is soft inside and smells like a mixture of his detergent and cologne. It’s an interesting combination, but it makes you smile nonetheless. One which you force down when you catch sight of it in the mirror.

Seeing yourself look so ordinary in his home has those unwanting, imaginary thoughts creep in once again. They are dangerous. You know that, but oh, are they so easy to get lost in. 

The vision calls this place home, where you can steal as many of Seungcheol’s clothes as you want. He would get onto you each time, but you know he’d secretly like seeing you in them. They would not only be different from your habitual style, but they would also be his.

His clothes on his girl.

Something that only he would see because while you’d enjoy wearing his clothes, you still would refuse to be seen in such casual wear beyond his humble abode.

Your heart yearns for that life.

Though as you turn off the light and climb into the bed, you let that fantasy get eaten by reality.

You’re not sure how long you’re asleep, but you stir when you feel the bed dip with an unknown weight. It moves closer, and you shiver when you feel something cold rest on your bare waist where the hoodie has risen. Then it holds you firmly while something shuffles in the bed closer. You register the weight to be a person’s, and you imagine it is Seungcheol.

The person presses you against their body, tucking your head into their chest as they rest their head on top of yours gently. The hand on your waist trails up your bare back. It rubs your skin softly, making your body sink further into the mattress. You keep your eyes closed, not wanting to wake from this dream your mind has created. If you aren’t able to have Seungcheol in the real world, at least you can have him here.

You don’t realize the tears rolling down your cheeks at first, but then you feel something tenderly swipe against your cheek. At first, you think it’s your own hand, but you don’t recall moving it.

In your dream, Seungcheol coos at you quietly. His hand is still sweeping across your back.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he says, voice so soft that it feels like it’s a few feet away. You inch closer to hear it better.

“You want me to leave you,” he continues.

Goodness, why does he sound so far from you?

Your hands rise to the chest in front of you, hands fisting the person’s shirt. You’re afraid they’ll leave you.

“But haven’t you realized I can’t do that? You were confused when I told you I wouldn’t leave you even if I could,” Seungcheol pauses to take a breath, almost as if he’s pondering on if he’s ready to disclose this information. 

“I can’t leave you because I… I like you. More than just an acquaintance, or a friend.”

You clutch the shirt harder, pressing your head deeper into his body. You want to hear this outside your dream so badly. 

You squeeze your eyes shut harder. 

You wish you could see his face staring at you with his warm eyes. To see his pretty lips stretch into a smile as he tells you everything you want to hear. Things you’re too afraid to ponder because it would make them more real.

“Shh, don’t cry,” he whispers and presses a kiss on the top of your head.

The feelings whirling in your chest are too much to bear. The dream has dug deep in your mind to pull out these pushed-down thoughts. Your mind has outdone itself with its imagination. You need to wake up before you fall harder for the man in your dreams. You ease your grasp on his shirt as if readying yourself to be pulled to reality.

Then reluctantly, your eyes open.

You fully anticipate seeing tear-stained sheets and darkness in front of you, but you just see the scenario your dream mustered. You blink several times to rid the memory. However, nothing works.

Your mouth opens in shock. Your heart was racing already, but now it’s beating so fast you think it’ll burst from your chest. 

Seungcheol lies beside you, watching you closely.

“C-Cheol?” you whimper, mind foggy with what’s real and what’s your imagination. “You’re r-real?”

Your body is in fight or flight mode. The moment had felt so vulnerable; it was as though he had invaded your mind. As if he knew your deepest thoughts, and that terrifies you.

He stares down at you, face only half illuminated from the moonlight that creeps in through his blinds. “I’m real, Cherry. I’m right here.”

You both stare at each other. You can’t hear his heart palpitate over the sound of yours, but you can feel the quick rise and fall of his chest against your palms, which are still pressed against his body. 

Your eyes flicker down. In the dim light, you can make out two small wet circles on his clothes, indicating that he was really there to hear you cry. The dream was not a dream. You feel embarrassed at having cried in front of him.

Then it all comes flooding back clearly. His words. His caressing. His tender tone. You wanted nothing more than to hear him say he wanted you. Because no matter how hard you tried to burn those thoughts from your mind, they always flickered back to life.

You don’t know when it happened.

You’re staring at him with puffy eyes one second and then have his mouth pressing against yours the next.

There is no gentle brushing of the lips this time. You’ve had enough of being interrupted. You need to feel him against you. You need his touch in the ways you’ve dreamt of before. From the way Seungcheol grips you tightly and kisses you fervently, you have a feeling he thinks the same.

The taste of his lips has you dizzy. When he glides his tongue against your lip, you unhesitantly grant him access. Despite the quick start of the kiss, he slows his movements when his tongue meets yours.

Your hands reach up to run through his locks while Seungcheol flips on his back, pulling you on top of him. His hair feels soft as it glides between your fingers, and when you run out of hair to grab, you tug on the ends.

Seungcheol moans into the kiss, hands moving to your ass and squeezing. It has your hips pressing against his body, and you whine when your clothed clit brushes him.

You pull away with a gasp. Your hands go to rest on either side of his head. Some of your hair falls into your face, and Seungcheol is quick to tuck the strands behind your ears. You don’t need to hear him say he wants to see your face. That’s evident in the way his eyes never leave yours. You take in his swollen lips and tousled hair—all because of you.

That’s all you think of as you dive back down again, tongue finding his easily and gliding together smoothly. He’s finally yours, at least for now.

Seungcheol keeps one hand on your ass while the other trails up your body. It slides under the hoodie and grips one of your bare breasts.

You mewl at the touch, arching your back into his large hand. He massages the flesh gently for a second before he moves the hand on your ass to do the same to your other breast. Your body is warming rapidly. Your heart never calms with each new feel of him.

When you pull away to catch your breath the second time, you sit up and pull the hoodie from your body. Seungcheol rests his hands on your lower back. He watches silently in awe, feeling your back arch as your naked body is exposed to him.

“So fucking pretty,” he murmurs, quickly propping his body up with one hand to get closer. The other reaches up to the back of your neck to pull you down to him. You hum against his lips as you straddle him, hands playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. Your arousal is pooling in your panties, and you need to do something to relieve some of your need.

Seungcheol groans, hands immediately going to your hips when you start grinding against his crotch. You hold onto him tightly, using him as leverage as you rub your clit against him. He pulls away from the heated kiss to remove his shirt. As he tosses the material somewhere in the room, your hands quickly press against his taunt torso. The force at which you do so has him falling back onto the mattress unexpectedly, his hair fanning around his head. He laughs, eyes turning into half-moons and dimples coming out to greet you—making your body warm for another reason.

“S-sorry,” you giggle, hands still on his chest as you lean over him.

You can’t see him clearly, but the weak light cast causes a portion of his muscles to be outlined. Although you’ve gotten some hints about his build when he wore specific clothes, they don’t do justice to how fit he is.

“Are you going to give me another compliment, baby?” Seungcheol teases when you continue to stare; his voice is lower than before. It isn’t as deep as when he first wakes up, but the sound still goes straight to your core. 

You squeeze your legs around his body, and he smiles at your reaction, grabbing your wrists. He guides your hands down his torso, forcing you to sit up gradually. You hold your breath as your gaze follows your hands south. You feel his toned body under your hands. Even though he doesn’t have a slender body, he is buff and muscular, and you find that much sexier.

“I don’t need your ego any bigger than it already is,” you protest.

Seungcheol stops guiding your hands when you reach the waistband of his shorts. He lets go of your wrists and moves his hands to rest on the top of your thighs.

“But I gave you one earlier,” he pouts. Full on pouting like he is a toddler who is getting denied candy. You curse him silently for looking so cute when he does that.

You huff with false irritation, folding quickly. “Fine. You look handsome.”

Instead of smiling, he keeps the same expression. He doesn’t say anything, and you roll your eyes at what he wants.

“And hot,” you continue. This gets his pout to ease slightly. He’s annoying, so you play with the strings of his shorts. It has his face contorting in surprise. Though once he realizes you’re just trying to get out of giving him more compliments, he pouts again. What a big baby… A big baby who you can’t help but fall for more despite his needy childish behavior at the moment.

“And sexy,” you murmur, curling your fingers over the top of his shorts and underwear.

Slowly, you begin to slide both pieces of clothing down. “And alluring.”

“Alluring?” Seungcheol asks quietly, trying to keep his gaze on your face, but it keeps going back to your hands. “T-that’s new.”

You hum, biting the inside of your cheek when your eyes catch sight of his hard length. The wetness between your legs grows while you slide his clothes off.

“N-nothing about my personality?” he teases softly. Once the material is on the floor, you look at his face. He looks like he’s trying to keep his thoughts coherent.

You smile sweetly at him, a hand trailing up his thick thigh. “How could I forget, hm? You’re beyond obnoxious.”

Before he can reply, your thumb is spreading his pre cum across his tip. Your hand then wraps around the base of his dick. Seungcheol curses under his breath as his eyes widen slightly.

“You’re so annoying,” he gruffs.

“One of my many talents,” you reply teasingly and then lean down. 

You kiss his tip gently, eyes flickering up to see his face. His jaw clenches when your tongue licks from the base to his tip gradually. You repeat this action, forcing the smile from your lips with each sharp inhale Seungcheol takes. 

His head pushes back on the pillow when you take him in your mouth, lowering yourself until his tip barely touches the back of your throat. Each bob of your head has his cock hardening more. He’s thick, and from the way your mouth stretches around his shaft and from how your hand can’t close all the way, you can’t stop the aching between your legs.

“Shit, Yn,” he breathes out, hand coming up to press down on your head. A louder moan sounds from him when his tip hits the back of your throat for a second. You gag at the sensation and pull away, pumping his length as you take a short breather.

“You’re doing so well, baby,” he praises, voice gentle and caring. His hand reaches down to swipe at the spit covering the corner of your lips. “You think you can do that one more time?”

Nodding, you lower yourself again. You start moving your head up and down on his cock, but eventually, Seungcheol starts thrusting his hips up shallowly. You hollow your cheeks and hum around him, earning you a moan from above at the vibration.

This time when he hits the back of your throat, you stay still. The hand at the base of his dick moves, and you hold his hips instead. Seungcheol draws out another curse when his dick goes farther down your throat. Your nose brushes his pelvis, but he pulls you off before you go all the way down.

Both of you are breathing heavily. Seungcheol’s eyes watch as a string of saliva connects you to his cock. His hand comes up again, breaking the connection as he smears the spit across your cheek. It feels utterly dirty what he does, but your thighs press together at the action.

“Come ‘ere,” he murmurs and guides your body up to his.

He kisses you passionately and holds you close as he slowly flips you over. His lips are still on yours when your back rests on the mattress. The kiss lasts a few more seconds before he breaks it off to trail kisses down your neck. Your eyes close as you angle your chin to give him better access.

While Seungcheol kisses your neck, his hands roam your body. Eventually, one of his hands finds your clit, and you jolt when he starts rubbing circles. Seungcheol nips and licks at your skin, causing you to moan out when he bites a little harder. His hand trails from your bud to your core. He groans quietly against your skin while feeling your damp panties. He rubs you through the material, which has you squirming under his touch. You need to feel him directly—not over your stupid underwear.

“Cheol, take them off,” you whine and move his hands to the top of the material. He adheres to your demand and swiftly pulls the boxers off.

Seungcheol’s mouth opens slightly at the sight of your drenched folds. The coldness of the room has you shivering. Before you can say something, he lowers his head while grabbing your ass and lifting your hips. Once you are close enough, he licks up your slickened lips.

A gasp leaves your mouth at the feeling of his warm tongue against you. He laps at your juices a few times before flicking his tongue against your clit. Your eyes are stuck on him between your legs, completely enraptured at the sight. Quiet gasps leave your mouth as he sucks your bud. He hums happily at your sounds, and then he trails his tongue up your slit, the tip of his tongue prodding your entrance for a second, earning a cry when he simply goes past it.

Seungcheol climbs over you before he can touch your clit. He finds your mouth quickly, forcing his tongue inside. He’s gathered some of your arousal in his mouth, and from his quick actions, he accidentally gets some on the outside of your mouth. However, the grin against your lips tells you it probably wasn’t an accident. You are beginning to realize Seungcheol likes it messy.

One of his hand's toys with your clit again. The sensation doesn’t last long because he moves south. He slides his fingers between your folds a few times, coating them with your wetness, before slipping one inside. There’s no friction since you’re dripping with how aroused you are. You moan into the kiss, and Seungcheol’s smile grows.

He pumps his finger several times and then pushes in another. The slight stretch has you reaching up to grip his sides. He breaks the kiss, eyes staring down into yours as he continues sliding his fingers in and out.

You whimper when he inserts a third, your nails digging into his sides while holding eye contact.

“You’re going to feel so good around me,” Seungcheol thinks out loud.

You moan at his words, thinking back to how big he is. The stretch you’re feeling is only an introduction to what’s to come.

Seungcheol leans back so he can get a better view of your pussy. He aligns his fingers horizontally as he pulls out slowly, causing you to stretch more around his digits. As soon as he slips out, he spreads your folds to see your entrance. Seungcheol gathers some of his spit in his mouth before letting it drop onto your cunt. Then without warning, he rubs your pussy—starting slow but soon speeding up.

“Ah, s-shit,” you cry, hands fisting in the sheets. Your legs move to close, but he presses his other hand down on one to keep you spread.

“You’re making such a mess, baby,” he coos. You can feel a few drops of your arousal mixed with his spit land on the inside of your thighs from his bruising touch.

Just when you are about to plead for him to stop, he pulls away. His eyes are glued to your dripping cunt.

You’ve never felt as needy as you do now. Your eyes fall to his cock, erect and ready to be used. You swallow harshly and reach out greedily. Seungcheol takes your hand, kissing the back of it softly. His eyes are blown out, his hair tangled, and his chest heaving slightly.

He climbs from the bed, and when he gestures for you to come closer, you obey quickly. Seungcheol picks you up, making your legs wrap around his waist as he walks to his bedroom. 

You lean down to kiss his neck, but that doesn’t last long, and you feel yourself falling back onto his mattress.

While the rest of the lights in the apartment are off, his side table’s lights are on. You take the opportunity to eye his figure again. His broad chest and muscular thighs have you squeezing around nothing. There’s a part of you that just wants to caress his body all night long; however, the ache between your legs tells you to do that another time.

“Don’t cry,” he says softly when you whine as he moves away from you. “Just gonna’ grab a condom.”

You nod, less sad at knowing what he’s doing. You move farther up his bed as he gets the packet. After securing the condom, he climbs over you.

He presses his lips against yours again, hands trailing all over your body. You let your hands do the same against his skin. It feels so nice to just feel him like you want. Each passing second has you eager for him. You put your hands on his hips and push them toward yours.

“Please, Cheol,” you beg quietly against his mouth.

“I’m really a good influence on you, hm, Cherry?” he playfully replies, lowering his hips until you feel his cock brush your pelvis. You press your body up and move your hips so your clit rubs against his length.

“B-be quiet,” you huff.

“I don’t think you want that,” he says. He grips his cock and rubs it along your folds to coat it in your arousal.

Your arms wrap around his neck, hips bucking.

“Do you want me?” he asks. His eyes bore into yours, the tip of his cock at your entrance.

You nod. “Yes.”

“And what do we say when we want something?” he questions. You roll your hips greedily, but he moves his dick to keep you unsatisfied.

You whine and lean your head back. “Stop playing games, Cheol.”

“That doesn’t sound right,” he tuts calmly.

You know he isn’t going to do anything unless you say what he wants. Whining again because you’re really annoyed with him, you pout. “Please.”

“Hm, close. What do pretty girls like you say when you want something?” he rephrases.

This arrogant man.

“Pretty please,” you concede.

Seungcheol smiles wickedly above you. He presses the tip against your entrance again but doesn’t fully push in. He gives just enough pressure to make you feel a slight stretch.

“That’s exactly correct,” he murmurs and finally slides inside slowly. “My pretty girl.”

A moan erupts in your throat at the feeling of his cock. You don’t know when you closed your eyes, but they open quickly when you realize you can’t see Seungcheol.

His brows are slightly touching, mouth open in concentration.

“T-tell me if you want me to stop at any time,” he instructs as he suppresses a groan.

“Okay,” you mutter. “Keep going. Please,” you beg when he pauses.

He nods and lowers his hips more, pushing more of himself between your walls. A curse falls from your lips when he goes deeper. He continues gradually until he is flushed against you.

Seungcheol rests his forehead on yours as he lets you adjust to his size. You feel so full.

“You doing okay?” he wonders.

You giggle, hand moving to rest on his cheek. “Yes. You feel so good.”

He tilts his chin so he can press a quick kiss to your parted lips.

“A compliment and I didn’t even have to ask,” he gloats and continues before you can reply, “Do you want to keep going?” he asks softly.

“Y-yeah,” you stutter, the need for him to keep going overpowering the need to sass him.

Seungcheol smiles down at you for a second before dragging his hips back, then forward again. He repeats those actions, each time getting a little harder. It has your body jolting up the mattress, but you don’t care. You just need him to continue.

“Doing so well, baby,” he whispers.

“You can go f-faster,” you say. Your hands trail down his torso until they rest on his sides.

“You sure?”

You nod, leaning up to press a reassuring kiss to his mouth. Seungcheol’s eyes are staring down at your chest but quickly snap up at the feel of your lips. He chases your lips after you pull away, slotting his mouth on yours once more. He slips his tongue in your mouth, and you welcome him happily.

Suddenly, Seungcheol’s thrusts speed up.

You pull away from the kiss with a small cry, hands gripping his sides tightly.

“Fuck,” you rasp.

Seungcheol sits up, moving one of your legs to rest against his front while the other lays upon his thigh. He places his hands on your thighs and then snaps his hips into yours rapidly. His eyes are locked onto where he slides into you, watching the way your pussy stretches for his cock.

Your hands move up to rub your breasts, back arching off the mattress when you twist your nipples between your fingers. Your eyes are half open with your lips parted. The feel of his thick cock dragging against your walls, combined with the pinch of your nipples, has you moaning nonstop.

“Shit, baby, you look so sexy like that,” Seungcheol growls, eyes watching your hands intensely.

The compliment has you mewling and clenching around his dick.

“You like looking sexy for me, hm?” he asks, subduing his moan.

You mumble a “yes,” hands pushing your breasts together to give him more of a show.

Seungcheol chuckles softly, lips spreading in a big grin, and slows down his hips. He’s breathing heavily, but he doesn’t stop. Your hands move from your breasts to grip the sheets.

“I would love to have you naked in my bed every day so I could admire you,” he continues. The word “admire” has your heart beating a little faster and a smile on your face. Seungcheol’s own lips tilt up in a grin at your reaction. He turns his head, giving your leg a tender kiss.

Seungcheol glides his cock out of your pussy slowly, and then when just the tip remains, he slams back in roughly. Your breath gets caught in your throat at the power of his hips, walls squeezing around him for a moment. He groans at the feeling.

Seungcheol’s eyes trail from your face to your breasts. They move each time he pushes his length back inside, and it has him gripping your thighs harder. Your skin starts to sting under his touch, but the pleasure between your legs outweighs the pain.

As if reading your thoughts, he eases his grip and carefully moves the leg against his chest to the side so you are spread wide for him. He leans over you, gradually lowering himself so his body is fully on yours. There’s enough pressure to feel his skin flushed on yours but not enough to suffocate you. He moves his hips slowly now. They are shallow thrusts, but he still feels heavenly.

“You sound pretty when you sing for me,” he murmurs, head tucking into the crook of your neck. 

Your arms readjust so they enclose around his shoulders. You also wrap your legs around his lower back to keep him close, holding him tightly as you get lost in the way he presses you into the mattress with his body. Your heart clutches at how intimate you feel with him. This type of gentleness is so different from what you experience with him. It’s nice. You wish you can feel it again in the future.

Giggling at his compliment, “T-that’s cheesy, babe.”

You feel him grin against your neck.

“It’s the truth. I love hearing you,” he replies against your skin. It tickles, causing you to squirm beneath him, but you don’t move much since you’re pinned under him.

“I’m close, Cheol,” you whisper into his damp hair. He nods to let you know he heard you. He stays against you for a few more seconds, and you hold him gingerly as he continues rutting into you. You store the memory of his loving embrace in your mind for safekeeping.

Seungcheol slowly leans up. He plants a soothing kiss on your lips before adjusting himself for better leverage. His shallow thrusts steadily get deeper, and his pace increases in speed until he is nearly pounding into you. One of his hands moves to rub tight circles against your clit. A string of moans leaves your mouth as he pushes you closer to your release.

Seungcheol moans when your cunt squeezes his cock.

“God, you’re going to be the death of me,” he husks.

Even though you don’t say anything, your body is conveying how close you are. Seungcheol’s quick pace grows a little frantic, a little desperate as a hand still plays with your bud.

His name leaves your lips when you come, legs shaking slightly as your orgasm courses through you. Seungcheol slows his thrusts as he eases you from your high.

“That’s it, baby girl,” he praises quietly as your body starts relaxing on the mattress. Gently, he pulls out and removes the condom.

When your eyes refocus, you see Seungcheol sitting up on his knees, a hand pumping his shaft. Even though tiredness is taking over your body, you move so you are in front of him on your hands and knees. You remove his hand and replace it with yours. 

He watches silently, mouth falling open when you wrap your lips around him again. Hollowing your cheeks, you bob your head quickly while your eyes watch him above. He rakes a hand through his slightly wet hair before bringing that hand down on your head. He slides your hair from your face, then begins to move his hips. 

The sound of you taking him in your mouth fills the room. Seungcheol whines, pushing your head farther and letting out a moan when he hears you gag. He pulls you off him, and you gasp for air once you can.

“Almost there,” he informs you before lining himself at your lips again. You nod, making Seungcheol smile as he pushes his dick between your lips.

You breathe through your nose as he fucks into your mouth. Tears start forming at the corner of your eyes when he hits the back of your throat continuously. Seeing his blissful expression has a sense of pride blooming in your chest. It feels good knowing you are bringing him so much pleasure.

“Fuck,” he gasps and pulls away suddenly. You cough when you inhale too quickly. Seungcheol’s head leans back as he slides his hand up and down quickly on his cock. He waits until you’re better before he brings his tip to your lips. You open your mouth, ready for him to use your throat again, but instead, he keeps his dick resting against your parted mouth. Understanding his plan, you stick your tongue out. His eyes stare down at yours. He looks so sexy with a sheen of sweat covering his skin. His forehead is exposed, and his face is scrunched in concentration.

Your name leaves his mouth as a curse when he comes. You moan quietly, eyes closing when you feel his cum land on your face and tongue in spurts. Seungcheol is panting above you, and as you open your eyes again, you see he never tore his gaze from your face. 

You go to close your mouth when he’s done, but he stops you—hand cupping your jaw and fingers digging slightly into your cheeks to keep your mouth open. The fierce gaze he wears is one of authority, and fuck, does that have you squeezing your legs together more.

Slowly his cum trails down your tongue, dangling from the tip before it falls onto the bed’s cover. The urge to close your mouth is strong. Even though Seungcheol is holding your mouth open, his grip isn’t strong enough to really stop you if you want to close it. However, you want to please him, so you push down the feeling and stare at his face. 

His eyes follow his cum gliding off your tongue, biting his lip at the sight. Goodness, he’s just breathing, but he looks so attractive.

You force down the moan you want to make at knowing Seungcheol gets off on being messy. You want him to make a mess out of you more.

“My good girl,” he whispers. He gathers the cum that landed on your face and moves it on your tongue. He releases the grip to let you close your mouth, staying silent as he watches you swallow the substance.

He leans down and gives you a lasting kiss for a reward before climbing off the bed. He leaves to grab a warm washcloth to clean off the residue on your face. The affectionate smile he dons is contagious, and you stare up at him contently as he cleans you carefully. Once he is done and the towel is discarded, he comes back.

“Move up, Cherry,” he instructs gently as he nods to the other end of the bed. You follow his order quietly. In one hard tug, he pulls the cover from the bed. He dumps it in the corner of the room and then grabs another from his closet.

“Now, lay down,” he says. Once you are in position, he flicks his wrists to open the cover in the air, letting it float down onto your body.

You giggle. “You could’ve just unfolded it first.”

“But wasn’t that more fun?” he replies with a grin. 

He climbs in next to you after switching off the lights, hands finding your body quickly. He lays on his back, one arm wrapping around your shoulders while the other rests on his chest. You press your body against his side and bring a hand up to his chest, intertwining your hands together. You watch as he shakes your hands together playfully.

“I think I had more fun earlier,” you belatedly reply.

Seungcheol chuckles. “Is that so? Did I fuck you that good, Cherry?”

You squeeze his hand at his words, not sure why his question has you suddenly feeling shy. Maybe it’s because you’re still feeling a little in the clouds, and your normal bratty self hasn't yet reemerged.

“I had fun too,” he adds when you don’t reply. “I would do it again.”

“Yeah?” you wonder, hopeful eyes glancing up at him. It’s definitely something you won’t oppose if the opportunity arises in the future, and you are happy to know he feels the same.

“Yeah,” he echoes. 

A grin spreads on his face upon seeing your expression. He leans down, giving you one last kiss as if promising to keep his word. The act has you wanting to kick your feet as you giggle, but you suppress the desire to do that.

Instead, you snuggle against him more as you let your body begin to melt into his. Comfortable silence fills his room, and you can feel sleep consuming you slowly.

“Sleep well, baby,” Seungcheol says quietly and unravels his hand from yours to move your hair from your face. You peer up at him, smiling.

“Goodnight, Cheol.”

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A/N: ... 😳

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