#i do not. need this weather.. on top of all the other shit i have going on rn .i will tear my skin off and run into the streets asa skeleton | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

snoowpee · 3 months

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all mine - s.jy

Pairing ⇾ bestfriend!jake x bestfriend!reader

Genre ⇾ smut, a little bit of fluff

Warnings ⇾ unprotected sex (you know you don’t want kids!), making out, slight food play, marking, ass slapping, pussy slapping, name calling (whore), dirty talking, fingering, mentions of nudes & masturbation, oral (f. receiving), face riding, filming, hair pulling, jerking off, riding, possessiveness, choking. I might’ve missed something but that’s the gist of it, enjoy!

Summary ⇾ being best friends with jake is all fun and games until you get jealous with how sociable he is with other girls.

Word count ⇾ 4.4k words

Playlist ⇾ Summer Walker (feat. Jhené Aiko) - I’ll Kill You.

Science class is boring the hell out of you. You watched the clock on the wall, counting down how many more minutes of suffering you had to endure. Great! fifteen minutes left. I’m going to lose it, if this class doesn’t end soon. You grumbled. Putting your head down on top of your folded arms.

You turned to face the male seated beside you, when you felt a hand grazed the left side of your waist. “The work isn’t gonna do itself,” Jake quietly whispered, not wanting to disrupt the class, he smirked, eyes twinkling with mischief. You discreetly flipped him off. Jake bit his lips to prevent a grin, but failed to do so.

“Do you have soccer practice afterschool?” You asked, changing the subject to suppress the rising thoughts in your head.

“Yeah,” Jake nodded.

“Bummer, I was gonna ask you to re-teach me the whole lesson today,” Jake knew you meant a whole different thing by the way your eyes lit up.

“I can swing by your place after practice, how does that sound, princess?” Jake whispered, mouthing the pet-name, careful even in his hushed tone to not let anybody hear.

“Sounds good to me, Jakey,” you shrugged. He scoffed at the nickname while your mouth stretched into a smile.

The clock ticked a few more times until the bell finally rang, indicating that class was over. You and Jake both packed your stuff, heading in different directions after. Just have to get through English class. You grumbled again, wanting school to end, so that you could lay down on your bed.

English class wasn’t so bad for you, knowing that you had friends to keep you entertained during it. The whole day, you assumed that time seemed to pass by very slowly, but to your surprise, it flew during English class.

After bidding goodbye to your friends, you made your way to the school’s field, where Jake was at. As soon as you realized that the weather was pretty nice, you decided to watch his practice for a bit.

When you reached the field you saw Jake and his friends talking to a group of girls. You recognized that a few of the girls are from your History class, and some are friends with your friends.

As you sat on the bleachers, Heeseung and Sunghoon noticed your presence, excusing themselves politely before taking long strides towards you.

“We felt bad seeing you all by yourself, so we wanted to keep you company while Jake’s getting his cock wet.” Sunghoon snickered at Heeseung’s remark.

“Man, you gotta see how many of the girls are asking for his socials. Man’s famous,” Sunghoon said as he took a seat beside you, Heeseung following ensuite.

“It must be so tough to be friends with a whore,” Heeseung feigned sympathy. Before you could respond with a witty remark, a familiar voice spoke.

“You better not be hitting on my best friend!” Jake shouted from where he was standing. Heeseung and Sunghoon bursted out in fits of laughter.

“No way, he’s still calling you his best friend?” Sunghoon teased. “Damn, I wouldn’t be calling you that if I were him, especially after blowing your back,” Sunghoon gave you a knowing look, you shrugged.

“I don’t know, Park. I don’t kiss and tell,” you teasingly smiled at him.

“You two need to get this shit sorted out…” Heeseung butted in. “…cause from what I’m seeing, you two are basically best friends who are lowkey fucking each other, but sometimes you two act like you’re in a relationship, and it’s madly confusing. I don’t mean to pry, but trust me it’s that obvious.”

“You should tell your buddy,” you shrugged again. “I know what I want. I’m not too sure about your teammate, though.”

All three of you turned to look at the soccer coach, your talk being interrupted by hearing a whistle blow.

“I’m pretty sure he’ll figure it out…” Sunghoon stood up. “…or maybe he did already.” Sunghoon said before he and Heeseung both waved goodbye to you.

You watched as the whole soccer team gathered, in the form of a circle, to debrief the events that took place from their last game, which didn’t take too long.

When the coach ordered the team to warm up, your mouth watered at the sight of Jake’s hot, focused expression, eyes blazing with competitiveness.

Afterwards, the team was split into two groups, one group wore a green mesh pinnie while the other wore a blue mesh pinnie. You heard the whistle blow again, signaling the start of a practice game. It took awhile for the game to end but you couldn’t deny that it was a little bit entertaining.

Once boredom overcame your senses, you fished out your phone, texting Jake to let him know that you were leaving already. You made your way to where your car was parked and drove home, which didn’t take too long.

When you arrived at your place, you changed into comfy clothes, before deciding to take a nap.

You woke up to a blanket of darkness surrounding you. You reached for your phone to check the time, seven thirty, Jake was surely done with his practice by now. You unlocked your phone to entertain you while you wait for Jake to arrive.

You were scrolling through Twitter when you heard your bedroom door swing open, “Hey princess…” Jake’s voice was husky, he sighed audibly. “…practice was rough today.”

You paused, Jake had his back facing you, his upper body naked, with a towel around his waist, his black hair a little wet, probably from the shower he just had. He smelt just like you.

“Where were you?” you had to know if he took a shower at your place again. Jake turned around to face you, whilst your eyes wandered to admire his broad shoulders and his toned abdomen, all displayed in front of you. “I mean, when did you get here?” You cleared your throat.

“Like what you see?” Jake bit his lips while smiling.

You threw your phone to the side and walked up to him, you grabbed one of his shirts from his duffel bag, shoving the shirt to his face. Jake chuckled whilst leaning in to wrap his arms around your waist, burying his face where your shoulder and neck meet. You squirm under his touch, feeling his wet bare skin against the fabric of your shirt, his breath hits the skin of your neck and you feel him pressed a kiss on the said area.

“I got here earlier, I didn’t want to wake you up, though. You looked so pretty sleeping,” Jake’s hands traveled down to grope your ass, he playfully slapped it, rubbing it in a circular motion after. “Did you get a new body wash?” Jake kissed your jaw, you hummed in response. “I like it, it smells good.”

“Yeah? You better not finish the whole bottle before I try it,” you teased, kissing Jake’s damp hair while he giggled.

“I’ll try not to,” Jake sighed, inhaling your scent after, your hands busy playing with his wet hair.

“I want ice cream,” you wrapped your arms around his neck. “Get dressed, Jakey,” you pinched one of his cheeks.

“What the princess wants, the princess gets,” Jake saluted, pulling himself away from you to grab his clothes. He gave you a look whilst you stood there.

“What?” you asked confused.

“Are you gonna watch me get dressed?” Jake asked.

“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” you shrugged.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, princess,” He let out a breath, you snickered.

“I’m just kidding,” you sickeningly smiled at him as he rolled his eyes.

Before Jake can remove the towel around his waist, you turn around and lay on your stomach, busying yourself with your phone. After a while, you felt Jake slapped your ass, catching you off guard.

“Let’s go,” Jake hooked his arms around your waist, lifting you up with ease.

“I’m driving!” You said attempting to reach for Jake’s car keys, his arms around your waist preventing you to do so.

“No, you’re not,” Jake pecked your lips as you pouted, glaring at him. “C’mon, let’s go,” Jake intertwined his hand with yours, leading the way to his car. You tried getting in the driver’s seat before Jake, but he locked the car before you could open the door. “What a stubborn girl,” Jake shakes his head, smiling at your pissed expression.

“Please…” you drag out the word, putting your hands together, while you exaggerate your pout. Jake thought you were the cutest.

“Tough luck, princess,” Jake opened the car door to the passenger seat, motioning for you to get in. You sighed in defeat, rolling your eyes at a smiling Jake before you got in.

Jake got in the car, turning on the engine right after, he drove to the direction of the nearest fast food chain that serves ice cream, pulling up to the drive thru to order for you.

“Can I get one regular oreo ice cream? Yeah, thanks,” Jake drove ahead, the car halting a few moments after.

Jake rolled down the car window, tapping his card on the machine, he rolled up the window handing you the cup of ice cream.

“Thanks Jakey!” You beamed upon eating a scoop.

“Nah babe, I want a kiss,” he smiled playfully as he pulled out of the parking lot, his right hand fell on top of your left thigh. You leaned in, pecking his lips.

“Satisfied?” you raised an eyebrow.

“Nah,” he steered the steering wheel with one hand, the car stopped at a stoplight and he looked at you with a teasing smile. He bit his lip trying to suppress it, but failed. You wanted to slap the eat-shiting grin he had on, losing it when his tongue darted out to lick the corners of his lips.

“You don’t wanna get on my nerves right now, Sim.” He lightly laughed at your ‘threat’ while you busy yourself with scooping the ice cream, feeding it to him after.

“Where do you wanna go, princess?” Jake asked, squeezing your thigh, eyes focused on the road.

You ponder for a while, “Any ideas?” you asked him.

“We can stop by the park? Go straight to your place, maybe watch a movie? If you’re up to drink we can go get liquor? I don’t really know, princess. It depends on what you want to do.” Jake’s eyes go back and forth between you and the road.

“Let’s stop by the supermarket,” you mumbled, mouth full of ice cream. Jake nodded, driving to the direction of the nearest supermarket.

Jake spots a vacant spot, parking the car, when you’ve reached the parking lot of your destination.

You unbuckle your seatbelt, climbing onto Jake’s lap. “What are you up to, princess,” Jake chuckled as you straddled him.

“Nothing,” you mischievously smiled at him.

You pressed a kiss on his lips, pulling away before he gets the chance to explore your mouth with his tongue. “Not so fast, Jakey,” you proceed to eat the remaining ice cream.

“You’re such a tease…” Jake cheekily smiled, “…Do you really want to go to the supermarket?” Jake’s hand caressed your skin underneath your shirt. You shivered due to his cold fingers. Jake found your reaction amusing.

“Well you weren’t gonna pullover when I told you to! What was I supposed to say?!” You reasoned out, Jake snickered. “Can I please drive?” you begged.

“Why do you wanna drive so bad?” Jake rests his head against your shoulder.

“There’s no special reason, I just wanna drive,” you played with his fluffy hair.

“Sorry, princess. Answers still no,” Jake said, you pulled on his hair so you could look him in the eye.

“I will ride your face, if you let me drive,” you deadpanned.

“Tempting, but nope,” Jake pecked your lips, your tongue darts out to lick his bottom lip. Pulling away from him to scoop the ice cream, feeding it to him. Once he had the ice cream in his mouth, you kissed him again, with your tongue exploring his mouth. You can taste the sweetness of the oreo ice cream against his tongue, as the mixture of his drool and the melted ice cream dribbles out from the corners of his mouth.

You placed the cup on the cupholder, your arms wrapping around Jake’s neck to pull him closer, while Jake does the same but with your waist. You both fight for dominance for a while, Jake losing as you grind down on him. You pulled away to lick the dripping drool on the corners of his mouth, Jake groaned as you pressed down on him harder.

“You’re so messy, princess,” Jake bites your collarbones.

“That’s how you like it,” you whispered into his ear.

“Alright, you’re driving,” Jake finally caved in, he sighed as you squealed. “But no over-speeding!” Jake pinched your cheeks.

“I don’t do that!” you defended yourself. Jake gave you a look. “That was one time, Jakey!”

“Sure, princess. What about the other day? Or the day after we went to that party? Last week? When you picked me and Jay up from the mall? Or when you drove us to school that one day?”

“You’re way hotter when you have your mouth shut, you know?” you made a face, Jake looked at you unamused. “Ok, you made your point. I won’t do it again!” you rolled your eyes. “Now, move!” Jake dramatically sighed again.

After Jake moved to the passenger seat, you drove all the way back to your place.

It was safe to say that you made it alive, miraculously without speeding.

You turned on the tv in your bedroom, sitting down on Jake’s lap, while he lay down with his head against the headboard while he had his right arm wrapped around you. As you try to pick a movie to watch, Jake was busy texting his friends, lightly laughing from time to time.

“Hey, man,” Jake laughed. Is he serious right now? you glanced at him but he was too busy to even notice.

“Yeah, I heard. No? Wait, what? You’re kidding?” Jake continued talking through the phone.

You can hear Sunghoon’s faint voice, explaining stuff you didn’t care about. You stood up and peered at Jake. He didn’t even notice. Let’s see if he could keep this up. With that, you discarded your shorts, leaving your purple laced panties on, one of Jake’s favorites.

You climbed back on top of him but instead of sitting yourself on top of his lap, you moved up so that you’re sitting on his chest, making sure to arch your back so he got a view of your ass. This time Jake did notice you, his hand caressing and groping your ass despite talking to Sunghoon. You jut out your ass so that it’s all up in his face, shuffling around to find a more comfortable position.

Once you found yourself comfortable, you had your head rested on your folded arms on top of Jake’s abdomen, your legs folded on either side of Jake, with your ass way too close to Jake’s face much to his liking.

You pull on the strings of his sweats, continuing to look for a movie to watch. You felt Jake pull you closer by your waist, pressing a kiss on your inner thigh, you groaned as he bit your asscheek after.

Jake bit his lower lip, trying to focus on what Sunghoon was saying. He was well aware that you're pining for his attention but he couldn’t hang up on Sunghoon since he was saying such interesting things.

Jake pushed his thumb between your clothed folds, feeling the wet patch on the fabric grow, you whimpered in response to his touches. You moaned when he pulled your panties upwards, creating a friction in between your folds, stimulating your clit with the fabric rubbing against it. Jake does this for a while, leaving some bites on the flesh of your ass as he did so. At his actions, you let out soft moans loud enough for him to hear, but not loud enough for Sunghoon to hear on the other line.

You audibly gasped when you felt Jake rubbed your clothed clit, jerking your ass back to feel more of him. You hear him chuckle, not sure if it’s because of what Sunghoon said or your reaction. Jake pinches your clit, pulling it and twisting, leaving you breathless. He slaps your ass, gripping the soft flesh to spread your ass apart.

“Hey, man, listen. As much as I love hearing how Jay got himself into some deep shit, I have a really important task at hand,” Jake pushed your panties to the side, he sighed when he saw a glob of arousal drip down from your hole to your folds.

“Yeah, is your best friend being needy right now?” You hear Sunghoon say on the other line.

“Fuck off,” Jake simply said, you heard Sunghoon laughed before a beeping noise indicated that the call was over.

Jake threw his phone to the side, he pulled you impossibly closer to him before speaking. “I can’t even talk to my friends without you feeling the need to pull shit like this?” Jake slapped your cunt, a fresh glob of arousal dripping out of your hole from the action. “My cute little whore, running around impatiently wanting to get fucked,” you mewled when Jake shoved his thumb in and out of you. “Don’t I fuck you enough? You want me to always fill you up with my dick?”

“I don’t know, Jakey. You tell me…” you breathlessly spoke, “…Do you always have to look for new bitches to fuck? Knowing you jerk off to the thoughts of me wrapped around you? Knowing how good my mouth feels wrapped around you?” you hear Jake groan, his cock stirring up in his sweats, visibly getting hard.

“Fuck,” Jake bit his lips, replacing his thumb with his index and middle finger.

“You always have to call me late at night, when you’re so horny and desperate to get off? When, you have to send me pictures of your dick, begging me to do something about it? All those videos of you jerking off and putting on a show for me?” You reached for Jake’s wrist, pulling his fingers out of you.

You leaned all the way back until you felt Jake’s plushed lips against your folds. You moaned when Jake licked your folds, tongue dipping in your hole a couple of times before licking your clit after.

“You don’t think I know how you moan my name when you’re all alone humping your pillow? Or how desperate you sound when you whine out my name when you touch yourself?” you grind down on Jake’s tongue, his nose hitting your clit.

“You’re so hot, princess,” Jake said against your cunt, words muffled, he hugged your waist, shoving his lips against your folds.

“Right there, Jakey,” you moaned, toes curling with how good Jake was eating you out. You turn your head to the side, seeing how Jake was holding onto your waist and how he had his head buried in between your legs. The sight looked so hot. You reached for your phone, clicking on the record button before zooming in on the mirror showing the view of Jake hugging your waist while he ate you out. “Say hi, Jakey,” you bit your lips when Jake slapped your ass.

You fully sat up to sit directly on Jake’s face, both of his hands gripping your waist, you reached back to gripped his fluffy hair, pushing him closer to your cunt. You point the camera down, showing Jake under you, licking your folds and sucking on your cunt.

“You’re doing so good for me, Jakey…” the grip around your waist tightened.

Your moans got louder when you neared your climax, seeing white as you spilled all over Jake. He helped you draw out your climax by licking you clean, pulling off of him when oversensitivity reached your senses.

Jake looked like he came out of your biggest wet dream, his swollen lips and chin shiny from the mix of his saliva and your release, fluffy hair all messy.

“Take your clothes off for me,” you film Jake following your orders without protest. He took off his shirt, throwing it to the side, he did the same with his sweats and underwear, leaving himself bare. “Show me how you touch yourself, Jakey.”

Jake looked at you then at the camera, he gripped the base of his cock, slit leaking beads of precum. He spat on the tip of his cock, whining when he stroked himself, smearing his saliva all over to lubricate his cock.

“Who do you think of when you’re all alone, Jakey?” You asked, Jake bucked his hips up when his hand gained speed, he moaned out your name loudly.

“F-Fuck…” Jake noisily whined, “Y-You’re… you’re a-all I think about!” Jake struggled to speak coherently, his hand moving impossibly fast.

It didn’t take too long for Jake to cum, already worked up after eating you out. As he reaches the peak of his climax, white ropes of his cum shoot out of his tip, creating a mess everywhere. Jake gasped for air, trying to regulate his breathing. You stopped filming, dropping your phone to your side to climb onto Jake’s lap. He hugged your waist again, leaning his head back on the head board, closing his eyes.

Jake hissed when you bit the skin of his neck, leaving a bite mark that will surely bruise. Satisfied with what you’ve done, you continued leaving bite marks on the expanse of his neck, playing with his hair as you did so.

“What’s gotten into you?” Jake asked, exhaustion evident on his face.

You take a hold of his cock, pushing your panties to the side to line it up with your hole before sinking down, you and Jake moaning in unison at the feeling of your cunt wrapped around his dick. You let yourself adjust to Jake’s size before you moved up and down on his lap at a fast pace. Skin slapping, lewd moans, and crude language echoed throughout your bedroom.

“Nothing, I’m just claiming what’s mine,” you said, stuttering out each word. Jake’s hands rolled your shirt up, squeezing both of your tits.

You moaned out his name when his thumbs played with your sensitive nipples. You pushed his hands away to roughly kiss him, in response Jake let you explore the cavern of his mouth with your tongue. You barely pulled away, letting him breathe for a moment, impatiently pressing your lips together to roughly make out.

Jake’s lips were swollen and shiny once you pulled away from him, leaving you satisfied. Jake gasped when he felt your right hand crept up to his neck, your fingers wrapped around his throat.

“Fuck…” Jake bit his lips, moaning out your name when you tighten your grip around his neck.

“Who do you belong to, Jakey?” you bounced on him faster, chasing your high.

“Y-You,” Jake felt lightheaded with his peak nearing. “‘m a-all yours.”

“That’s right. You’re all mine, understood?” Jake attempted to nod, your grip on him not loosening.

“Y-Yes! A-All yours,” Jake stuttered out.

Jake rubbed your clit at a speed, the knot in your stomach finally snapping as you creamed on Jake’s cock, triggering his orgasm not long after.

Jake leaned his back on the headboard behind him, catching his breath. You hugged Jake, resting your head on his shoulder, feeling the exhaustion creep in. You almost drifted into sleep with the way Jake was playing with your hair, his other arm loosely wrapped around you.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Jake spoke, breaking the silence. He carried you to your bathroom, setting you down on your toilet to let you pee, he cleaned himself up while waiting for you to finish, lending you a hand when you needed anything.

After changing into new sets of clothes, you lie down in bed with Jake to cuddle. He hissed when you wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him close.

“What?” you asked Jake, confused, he didn’t answer, opting to point at his neck. You pulled down Jake’s hoodie to inspect his neck, splotches of marks adorned his neck, your handprint evident, bruising the skin. “Oh my god!” you sat up at the same time your eyes widened, Jake chuckled at your reaction. “Are you ok? I’m so sorry! I got carried away!”

“You’re good, princess,” Jake hugged you again, pulling you close as he kissed the skin of your neck. Your fingers find their way to play with his hair again. “Oh, I meant it by the way…” He rested his head on your shoulder, looking up to hold your gaze. “…I’m all yours.” Jake grinned.

“I know,” you said sporting the same expression the boy had in front of you. “You’re all mine.”

“I’m sorry for making you jealous, princess.” Jake pouted. “But I can’t guarantee that it won't happen again,” Jake teased, pointing at his neck.

“You little shit!” you flicked Jake’s neck in annoyance, making him scream at the sudden pain.

“I’m sorry! I was just kidding!” Jake hugged you tighter.

You woke up the next morning with a note from Jake, apologizing that he had to leave for practice early in the morning, not forgetting to promise a hang out with his girl after. It was safe to say that you went back to bed with a smile on your face after reading the note.

Jake felt bad for leaving you, but it was either that or deathly exercises assigned to him by his coach.

When he arrived at the change room, he spotted his friends by their designated lockers. Jay already changed into his jersey, Heeseung groggily changing, and Sunghoon stretching.

“About time you arrived,” Sunghoon said. “We were just talking about Jay’s dumbass. What took you so long to get here?”

“I had to stop by my place to get my shit,” Jake simply said. “Hey man,” Jake dapped Jay up. “So, what did your dad say?”

“I don’t know, man. He said he’s gonna get my car fixed, but guess what? This dude’s gonna intern at his company,” Jay pointed to himself, looking unamused.

“Yikes, you poor soul.” Jake said, pulling up his hoodie to change his clothes. His friends collectively gasped.

“Dude, you’re not gonna go out looking like that,” Sunghoon said, shocked.

“Yeah, no. Coach is gonna think you got into a fight or something,” Heeseung said mouth agape.

“What the fuck happened to you?” Jay pointed at Jake’s neck.

“Oh, this?” Jake arrogantly smirked. “My girlfriend happened.”

#enhypen smut #jake smut #sim jake smut #jaeyun smut #sim jaeyun smut #jake x reader smut #jake x reader #sim jake x reader #jaeyun x reader #sim jaeyun x reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen fic #enhypen fanfiction

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violet-dragongirl · 2 years

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Honestly if I COULD buy myself a home to have built, I'd build a house very similar to a very fun arena map I enjoyed as well just...not on the level like I've currently seen cos that's too big and too much

#I've seen homes that are like...yeah they're arena maps for sure #BUT WHY DO YOU NEED 19+ FUCKING ROOMS?!#Jesu the one I'm thinking of like...really has at max 5 #Like for what I'd love to do in life #5 rooms is way more than enough #I'd turn 2 into guest/roomie/partner rooms for sure #and like...the other 2 would be guest rooms #I'd put all my welding/physical art shit into like...a workshop in the backyard #(Yes there will be a garden; no I'd probably do terrible with it and have someone else who loves gardening do it)#AND IF IT'S A FLAT TOP ON THE HOUSE WE'RE PUTTING THE GARDEN THERE (with like...a greenhouse glass roof in case of weather)#Like yeah I can make a dream HOME but I sure af don't want like...more than 5 rooms to maintain #But it will be a near perfect copy of an arena map that I enjoyed #NO NOT FUCKING...UMM...NOT BLOOD GULCH FUCK THAT NO.

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prismatic-bell · 1 year

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HEY EVERYONE

Do you enjoy the idea of Sticking It To The Man, but also you’re fucking tired? Maybe you appreciate the idea of direct action of some kind but ADHD, depression, or physical disability has made it nigh-on impossible for you to actually, you know, do shit?

Well, friends, allow me to introduce you to a small but significant thing you can do to Stick It To The Man while also benefiting your own mental health:

I haven’t bought green onions in a year.

If you’re sitting here thinking “holy shit, Nina, those look like hell,” you’re not wrong—they’re recovering from some unintended abuse. They survived two weeks in triple digits (that’s upward of 35 degrees for y’all with the weird sciencey math units) while I, uh. Forgot to water them. The outer layers dried out to protect the inner layers and as soon as I watered these thirsty bitches they went

They literally looked dead three weeks ago. So yeah, they’re not too pretty right now, but you wouldn’t be either, and they’re bouncing back nicely.

So, how to do this simple thing?

1) obtain dirt and a pot. You’ll want to do this first because the next steps go surprisingly fast. My green onions live in a 6” terracotta pot and some gardening topsoil, but you can use potting mix (not Miracle Gro tho, that stuff is trash), dirt from outside if you live in a place where it’s safe to do so, any kind of soil will do provided it’s clean and doesn’t contain pests (although most pests will leave alliums alone because they hate the smell). To be clear, because we love and respect our biosphere in this house, “pests” in this context means “bugs that specifically will attack green onions while providing no benefit to either the onions or any other plants you may have.” The pot is mandatory, however—if you want to do this year-round, you need to be able to move the onions inside/outside as weather allows/demands.

2) buy some green onions. You can skip straight to step 4 from here if you want, but if you’re planning to use them first…

3) cut them only to the tops of the white bits. In other words you ONLY want to use the green part.

4) put the white bits in a ramekin, measuring cup, etc. with some water. I’ve used things as big as juice glasses for this, but that’s really on the big end. Put your container in a window with some sun.

5) 3-5 days later, you should see about half an inch of root growth on the bottoms of your onions, and possibly the beginnings of a tiny green spear at the top. (Maybe a bit more, if they’re overachievers.) Plant them in your pot with just a bit of the white sticking up overtop of the soil.

6) water just a little bit, every other day. You want the soil to always be moist to the touch, but never out and out wet.

7) watch them sprout. This is excellent for your mood, by the way. Science says having and tending green things provides visible benefits to both your physical and mental health. We also know that making tangible things is good for your mental health, and green onions grow quickly, so you get benefits fast.

8) As they grow, you can reduce watering to three times per week because they’ll be able to store more water. The leaves will feel firm and “thick” (you’ll understand what I mean when you get to feel a properly-watered green onion) when they have enough water, much like a succulent’s leaves will get thicker and firmer when it’s well-hydrated, so it’s relatively easy to tell if they need a drink.

9) trim your onions as you need them! I try to never take more than 3-4 leaves in a week—about half a bunch—so it has time to grow more, but if you live with a bunch of people you can get around this by just starting more green onions. Buy three or four bunches and plant them all. They don’t go bad because they literally just grow until you need them. I’ve actually planned meals around “I have not used enough green onions lately and the leaves are bending under their own weight, I need to trim some tops.” Although the ones you see in the grocery store have open tops, you’ll notice closed spears on your new leaves, and these are completely edible. Yes, I regret to tell you they cut off and probably waste the tapered bits just for The Aesthetic. They’re just like any other green part of the onion.

AND YOU WILL NEVER NEED TO BUY GREEN ONIONS AGAIN. Just add a little soil now and again to replenish the nutrients.

Yes, they’re cheap. Yes, this is a small thing. But many small things added together are a big thing. And when you’re confident in your green onions, if you have the desire and ability to do more, there are many other plants you can grow from grocery-store starters.

GO FORTH. ENJOY THIS KNOWLEDGE.

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moonjxsung · 8 months

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When the Rain Stops

Read part 2 here.

Pairing: Lee Minho x fem reader

W/c: 9.8k

Warnings: mentions of drinking, mentions of smoking, mentions of cheating, brief comment about calories, use of pet names, sex in a public establishment (no one is around), oral sex (fem receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, squirting

Synopsis: A passing storm during a road trip forces you to seek shelter in a little dive bar on the outskirts of town, and you find yourself drawn to the bartender.

18+. Mdni!

•

“Shit,” you mutter under your breath, wringing out your stringy wet hair onto the black carpet below you. You know the weather forecast predicted rain- hell, your family even warned you about it when you left their place this morning. But true to your bad luck, you severely underestimated just how much of it. Now, you’re stuck in the middle of nowhere while you wait for the storm to pass.

Okay, maybe not technically the middle of nowhere. But a shitty dive bar surrounded by nothing for miles upon miles isn’t really something to write home about. You know it could be worse- at least here you have access to unlimited alcohol and mozzarella sticks. But a quick look around tells you that’s not enough to redeem it for you.

The place is undoubtedly small, pool tables and red leather booths housing most of the space. Where there’s vacancy at the tables, the servers haven’t bothered to clean up yet, passing by stacks of dirty plates and silverware to serve guests sitting at other tables. A group of men chatter amongst themselves at one of the pool tables, and a single man is sat at the open bar.

You settle on a spot at the open bar, sitting two barstools away from the man and drying your feet on the rug below you.

“What can I get you?” A voice overhead says dryly, and you respond without looking up.

“Just a Coke, maybe? Diet, please.”

You hear the man scoff a little as he retreats, and then you finally look up, slightly offended at his reaction.

He’s walking away from the bar when you see him, only the back of his head visible from behind the counter where you’re sat.

As he disappears into the back to grab a coke, you pull your cell phone out of your bag. You wipe raindrops off the screen with the sleeve of your sweater, pushing the lock button to catch up on unread texts. There are only two, both from your parents, warning you about the rain and requesting you turn back for the night.

You shoot them back a text, assuring them you’ve found someplace safe to stay, and that you won’t be driving in this rain until the storm blows over. But the truth is, you’re rather unsure of that yourself. Your phone currently reads at 26% battery, the storm is predicted to go on for several hours, and there are seemingly no hotels nearby to stay the night. Chances are, you’re going to be here for a good while.

A veiny hand places an iced glass of your Diet Coke in front of you as you finish sending the texts, and you look up to lock eyes with the bartender.

He’s rather tall, with light brown hair that falls just above his soft round eyes, totally contradicting the sharpness in his jawline and nose bridge. The man is dressed formally in a white button-up shirt and a black tie, rolled up halfway at the sleeves, the top two buttons undone to reveal just a glimpse of his broadened chest.

“Is that it?” He asks. His stare is cold and serious, and you find yourself a little intimidated in this proximity to him.

“Yes, thank you. Do you happen to have a phone charger?”

He scoffs again.

“This isn’t a convenience store.”

“I’m aware,” you reply with narrowed eyes. “I just need to make a few calls.”

“There’s a pay phone in the back.”

It’s your turn to scoff. He’s calculated with his words, like he’s trying his best to get you to leave the bar. But you’re as stubborn as they come, and it’ll take a lot more than rude customer service to make you leave in this storm.

“Look, I’m not using a pay phone unless you’re supplying quarters. You don’t have an iPhone charger?”

He rolls his eyes.

“No, I don’t have an iPhone charger. And I’m not supplying you with anything- this isn’t a convenience store. Unless you want a vodka sprite or some chicken wings, I think we’re all done here.”

Before you can reply, he turns on his heel, making his way back to the kitchen and disappearing behind the double doors once again.

The doors swing in and out a few times before coming to a halt, and you stare through the circular window as he resumes cooking something in the kitchen.

Unpleasant- the personalities of everyone in your parents’ neighboring town, miles away from your apartment in the city. It reminds you precisely why you seldom visit these parts.

“Don’t take it personal,” a voice from beside you says. He shifts to face you from his bar stool. “He’s always like that.”

The stranger is well-dressed in a coat and slacks, his black hair styled neatly out of his face.

“Surprised he keeps any business at all with an attitude like that.”

“The locals don’t get the worst of it,” he continues. “Mostly us city-dwellers he despises.”

A small smile forms on your face. “You’re from the city too?”

“Yeah!” he replies enthusiastically. “I’m just passing through for the weekend.”

“Me too! Though I got stuck on the way back home. Doesn’t seem like we’ll be able to leave for a few hours.”

“Oh yeah,” the man says. “It’s really bad out there.”

You shift your attention to the large window at the back of the bar- the rain is still coming down in sheets over the glistening black pavement, nothing visible beyond the blurry traffic lights as the trees melt into an abyss of darkness. The roads appear empty and the parking lot seems fuller than usual for a bar like this.

“I’m Jisung, by the way,” he says finally.

You turn back to him and nod once. “Y/n. It’s great to meet you.”

As Jisung indulges you in conversation about city life, you learn he’s a businessman who visits the area on Saturdays when he gathers in the town with old friends. He also lives alone in a high-rise apartment, he’s single, and he comes to this particular dive bar for the chicken wings. Ones he insists you have to try, so you waive over the bartender to place another order.

“Excuse me, could we get an order of chicken wings?”

The bartender scribbles something and walks away quickly, hardly acknowledging you the way he did earlier.

“You know,” Jisung says. “Maybe the rain isn’t such a bad thing.”

“Why’s that?”

“I’ve been talking to the prettiest girl in this bar for the last 30 minutes. Beats being stuck in traffic any day.”

You feel your whole face turn a bright shade of crimson as he grins flirtatiously. Of course, the other way around stands true, too; his features resemble that of a model’s, and you're pretty sure the other girls in the bar have been eyeing him since you walked in.

Before you can respond, the bartender returns, setting a plate down in front of you and some silverware.

“Enjoy,” he says plainly, and he blinks a few times before leaving again.

“Jeez, it’s like he doesn’t even want to work here,” you tell Jisung.

He says nothing in response- he simply slides the plate over to you, ushering for you to choose a piece.

And you do, carefully balancing the saucy cut between your forefinger and thumb as Jisung taps his against yours.

“Cheers,” he says happily. “To the rain.”

The chicken is the best you’ve had in a while- in fact, you can’t recall having better food at any bar before this.

“Wow, you were right, Jisung. this is phenomenal!”

“It’s Minho’s recipe,” he replies with a mouthful of food.

“Who’s Minho?”

Jisung nods in the direction of the bar, where the bartender is cleaning off a glass with a white towel. He raises his eyebrows once at you, as if to confirm he’s indeed the topic of conversation, and you turn back to Jisung.

“It’s really good,” you say loudly, with the intention of Minho hearing your compliment.

But Minho doesn’t respond, instead sauntering over and refilling your Diet Coke. His eyes visibly avoid yours, guarded, like you might instigate another quarreling match with him at any given second. But he also blinks rapidly as he pours your beverage, almost as if he’s trying not to say something himself. You analyze his mannerisms briefly, before brushing them off and enjoying your food again. He’s probably just still peeved from earlier.

“Do you want to play a round of pool?” Jisung interrupts your thoughts. “Not to scare you, but I’m kind of terrible at it.”

His eyes form little crescents as he laughs loudly, and the gloomy vibe in the bar seems to brighten from the sound alone.

“Yeah, I’d love that.”

Three rounds in, Jisung is practically sober again, reeling off the high from winning three times against you. He might be terrible, but you’re evidently far worse than he claims to be.

“If I win this match, you let me take you out on a date. How does that sound?” Jisung says through laughter, though he’s entirely serious about the proposal.

Your cue stick prods at his ribs as you smile back in agreement. “And if you lose?”

“I won’t lose,” Jisung retorts. “Might as well pick a restaurant now.”

It’s a failure already, Jisung having only two stripes left while you’re still stuck with all 8 solids. He takes his aim at the cue ball, halting his laughter briefly to position his cue stick, and then cheering loudly as the ball disappears into its nearest hole. You watch with bated breath as he repeats the process, only this time, he misses.

“Hey,” you whine. “You only brought up our proposal midway through this round. At least I deserve a chance card!”

He scoffs. “Pick a chance then. I doubt it’ll get you 7 balls closer to your competition.”

You scan the room in deep thought, one hand resting under your chin and atop the cue stick; and then, the idea hits you.

“He’ll play for me,” you announce, nodding toward the direction of where Minho is wiping down the counter with a rag. He looks up momentarily, furrowing his brows when he notices the shared looks of you and Jisung.

“Get over here!” Jisung shouts, and a few patrons of the tables nearby encourage the invitation, cheering and applauding.

“No,” Minho says as he shakes his head shyly. “I’m busy.”

“There’s literally no one around,” Jisung retorts. “Come on, I know you can try at least once.”

“He’s scared he’ll lose,” you chime in. “And then you’ll have to take me out on a date.”

You swear you see Minho’s eyes narrow, and then he dries his hands with the same rag before setting it down.

“One round only. If I win, you tip double.”

“Deal,” says Jisung, and you watch Minho strut over to the table.

He’s taller than you assumed, towering over you in a black pair of slacks that lengthen his muscular legs. In preparation, Minho cuffs up his sleeves a few more times, buttoning them at the forearm and loosening his collar. You try your hardest not to stare, but it’s a seemingly impossible task, you quickly realize, as he takes your cue stick and positions himself over the table. One loose strand of brown hair falls into his face, and you resist the urge to move it out of the way for him.

The tables nearby are quiet as Minho pulls back, and then aims, the first of your solids rolling into the hole with ease.

“Oh fuck you,” Jisung groans, and Minho positions himself over the next target. Aim, roll back, perfect shot.

Tables around you begin to gather around yours, watching silently as Minho repeats his method. Aim, roll, shoot. The heavy sound of a solid rolling down the velvety surface, and the satisfying plink as it finds its home inside the hole.

Only two solids remain, and Jisung rests his head on his cue stick as Minho takes aim again. “I can’t watch. Someone tell me if he gets it.”

Aim… roll… and double plink- both solids disappear into the hole beneath them, effectively ending the match between the two. The patrons clap and cheer loudly, and Jisung throws his hands in the air, groaning in annoyance. “Fuck, man! You didn’t say you knew how to play pool?”

Minho shrugs, not a hint of a smile on his face as he retrieves the balls and organizes them on the table again. Jisung slides him a twenty, and he shoots you a quick glance, nodding once as he leaves the table and disappears back into the kitchen. You wonder again what he’s thinking about, briefly worried you’ve annoyed him by pulling him away from his work.

“Hey,” Jisung says, snapping you out of your tranced state. “Did you want to… maybe… get out of here? I know a hotel just a few blocks from the bar. We can walk fast.”

You think it over momentarily, weighing your options. The rain has no intention of stopping anytime soon, and you’re dying for a shower at this point. You’re also persuaded by the idea of a warm bed- not to mention, a warm body, for the night.

“Sure! I’m just going to run to the bathroom, I’ll meet you outside.”

The reflection in the mirror looks rough, staring back at you like this, desperately fixing the smudged makeup to the best of your ability and spritzing perfume. It’s been a while since you hooked up with a random person- especially one from a dive bar like this, but somehow you trust him. He’s funny, sweet, and he’s undoubtedly attractive. Plus, maybe a hookup will distract you from the current state of things.

When you exit, you make your way past the barstools, thanking Minho briefly. His lips curl up into a hint of a smile, and you can’t help but feel bad for him- he’s stuck in this shitty bar regardless, dealing with obnoxious patrons seeking shelter from the storm and cleaning up after their drunken messes. He may be a little rude, but it’s deserved, you think, as he cleans off your dishes.

Finally exiting the bar, you look around for Jisung, shielding your eyes from sheets of rain and squinting against the dark sky. The only source of light is a hanging light beside the wooden bar sign, and it illuminates nothing past your immediate eyesight.

“Jisung?” You call, being met only with the sounds of heavy rainfall and swaying leaves.

“Jisung?”

The wind blows violently, and you wrap your arms around yourself, shivering against the brutal cold. A man enters the bar beside you, keeping the door open and ushering you inside. And you do enter again, marching straight to the bar to search for Jisung.

“Excuse me,” you say to Minho, who is busy preparing a beer on tap for another patron. “Did you see the man who was here earlier? Tall, black hair, suit?”

“You mean Jisung?” He says without looking at you, and you perk up at his name.

“Yes! Did you see where he went?”

“Yeah,” Minho replies dryly. “I told him you changed your mind about him.”

“You- what?”

Minho says nothing again, filling another mug of beer and sliding it across the counter to a patron.

“Why the fuck would you do that?”

“He’s bad news,” Minho shrugs.

The words circle in your head for a good minute while you make sense of them. Minho ruined your chances at going home with Jisung- because he’s “bad news”? What does he even know about him?

“Why do you say that?” The question escapes your lips before you can ponder a more insightful one.

“I know him,” he replies casually. “Like I said- bad news.”

Frustration builds up steadily inside of you, turning your ears a bright shade of crimson and knitting your brows together in pure confusion.

“Who are you to determine that? You’re just a bartender! It’s none of your damn business who I leave with!”

He slaps a palm on the counter, not particularly hard, but enough to startle you a little.

“Actually, it is. I have a legal obligation to ensure my patrons don’t leave here inebriated behind a vehicle, or with strange men. And I saved you from the latter. You should be thanking me.”

“Thanking you?” You scoff. “Since I walked in here you’ve been nothing but a complete douche! There’s nothing to thank you for.”

“Then don’t,” Minho says. “I did my part either way.”

You stutter momentarily, settling on silence as he exits back to the kitchen and leaves you standing at the counter. The current state of things feels much like they did when you first entered- drenched from the rain, frustrated, and annoyed with the bartender. Only now, you can add cockblocked to the list, all thanks to Minho.

Two hours past the incident, your phone is completely dead. It’s just past 11 when the rain stills just for a little bit, and hoards of patrons file out of the bar to complete their short trips home. You remain stuck however, knowing the rain will pick up again if you attempt the six hour drive back right now. The bar is nearly empty at this hour, only two people sat at a far table, and the quiet swing of jazz music is now audible from your little booth. The peeling leather of the red seats below you is rather itchy, and the dim lantern hanging over you gives an orange-ish glow to the wooden table beneath you. You scribble mindless doodles on a stack of napkins in front of you, trying your best to pass the agonizing time spent here.

As you finalize the petals of a messy flower drawn on the napkin, a plate is set down in front of you, along with a glass of what you presume is Diet Coke. The smell instantly makes your mouth water- a cheesy omelet coupled with a side of french fries, steam still wafting off the plate and up into the glow of the booth’s lighting. You look up to see none other than Minho, and before you can protest, he slides into the booth across from you, setting a fork down on your napkin.

“You should eat,” he says. “It’s been a while.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“It’s on me,” Minho emphasizes, and you finally look up from your drawing.

“Look,” he begins. “Jisung has been coming here for years. He’s a cool dude, I get it.”

“Yeah, well, it’s not exactly like I have a chance with him anymore,” you turn back to your drawing.

“He’s also married,” Minho finishes.

At that, your head snaps up at him, eyes widened in shock.

“What? But he said-”

“Yeah, that’s what he always says. It’s kind of his thing- picking up girls from the bar and taking them to that one hotel. I told you, he’s bad news.”

Silence washes over the booth as you swallow nervously. He shrugs apologetically, fiddling with his fingers as you begin to speak.

“Sorry. I didn’t know.”

“I know you didn’t. I just didn’t want you to come back here crying tomorrow morning like the last girl did.”

It hits you like a ton of bricks- Minho really was looking after you. You’d almost left this strange dive bar, in the middle of nowhere, to sleep with a married man in a sketchy hotel. In hindsight, it was stupid you ever agreed.

“At least eat some fries,” he says, and you remember the plate in front of you. You comply with his request, taking a bite of the still-warm fries which almost melt on your tongue.

“These are really good,” you tell him. “He was right about the food, at least.”

“I’m kind of a big deal here,” Minho says as he leans back. He smirks- the first time you’ve seen an expression on his face tonight.

“I’m sure. How did you get so good at pool, anyway?”

“I work at a dive bar,” Minho says. “Girls ask me to play with them all the time.”

“Do they now? Your reluctance earlier says otherwise.”

“Oh they do,” Minho says. “When they’re as shitty as you, I’m the chance card.”

“Hey!” You shout. Minho giggles, his head thrown back as his eyes form little crescents in amusement. His laugh makes you laugh, too, the musical sound of it making your heartbeat quicken a little. It’s melodic and lighthearted, and you almost forget you’re stuck with him in this hell of a bar. There’s a glow to him at this time of night.

“Run it back,” you say as his laughter dies down. “And I’ll show you I’m not entirely terrible.”

“Better hope you don’t lose,” he says. “You won’t have a chance card this time.”

You still suck at pool. Minho clears the table in two quick rounds, and you’ve barely had time to practice with your cue stick because it’s hardly ever your turn.

“Alright,” Minho says. “I’ll let you have this turn. It’s boring watching you stand there all night.”

You approach the table, positioning your cue stick and taking aim at your first solid of the match.

“Use your thumb on the front hand,” he chimes in.

“Like this?”

“No, it should be between your thumb and pointer finger.”

“Like I’m pinching it?” You ask confused, and Minho chuckles.

“Here.”

Before you can adjust your cue stick again, Minho is behind you, one hand finding yours at the front of the cue stick and positioning it between your thumb and pointer finger like he explained. His hands are cold to the touch, and you’re intimidated having him this close to you. The other hand gently grips your elbow, moving it back a little as he scans the current trajectory. His face is dangerously close to yours, hair falling beautifully into his eyes as he moves, lips parted in concentration and the gentle flutter of his eyelashes as he blinks.

“There. Try now.”

You do as he instructs, rolling back and taking aim at your solid. Aim, shoot… and the familiar roll of your ball across the table. Only this time, it’s followed by the satisfying sound of falling into its respective hole.

“Oh my gosh!” You exclaim. “That’s only the third one I’ve gotten tonight!”

Minho chuckles, amused with your ardent reaction. “Your aim isn’t bad at all. It’s just your positioning.”

He turns to smile at you, momentarily unaware of how close he is to you. He’s towering over you, lips pulled into a mischievous grin as your eyes glimmer, still reeling off the high of scoring. For a brief second, your eyes flicker down to his lips, maybe a little too obviously, and then back up at his eyes.

“I should probably get back to the kitchen,” Minho says nervously. “I think that table ordered drinks like one round ago.”

“Yeah,” you reply, a little hurt that he’s leaving again. “I’m pretty tired, anyway.”

“You want something else to eat?”

“I’m fine, thanks. Good luck with work, though!” You avert his gaze fully now, mentally tracing the pattern on the rug below you.

When Minho leaves, you can’t help but mentally scold yourself. He’s just a bartender- one whose job is to serve you drinks and keep you out of trouble here. Not some friend to stand around and play pool with, regardless of how good he is, or hypnotizing it feels when he touches you.

At 1am, the bar is officially empty. The last few patrons leave after a round of gin vodkas, somehow getting an Uber despite the storm and leaving home for the night. You debate getting a room at the nearby hotel, but there’s no way you’ll be able to reserve a room this late, and your phone is still dead. It would probably be smart to attempt some method of getting home, but a part of you strangely doesn’t want to leave the bar anymore. It feels like a vessel into another universe, like time doesn’t exist here, like the storm or the ride home aren’t important as long as you’re sat in this little booth. You’re well aware the bar closes in an hour, but you’d rather wait until the hour to decide what to do.

Of course, part of it could be the bartender. You don’t want to like Minho, but you can’t quite make sense of him, either. He’s attractive, but reserved. He’s outgoing, but he has his guard up. And his walls break down when he’s enjoying himself, but he builds them up quickly again, and you can’t understand what triggers it. He’s much like the bar is- safe and homely, yet mysterious and alluring.

As you take a sip of your Diet Coke, neck craned to watch the show playing on the tv above you, a familiar face scoots into the booth across from you.

“Subway,” he says.

“What?”

“Jeopardy. Restaurants by slogan: Eat Fresh. It’s Subway.” He's referring to the episode of Jeopardy you’ve been watching for the past half hour.

“Everyone knows that,” you say with a smile.

You expect him to defend himself, but instead he laughs and shakes his head.

“Either our diet cokes are really good, or you’re not in any rush to get home.”

You sigh, swirling your straw around your third can of Coke and shrugging.

“I can’t make it home in this rain. The roads are closed going my direction, anyway.”

“Where’s home?”

“Far from here. In the city.”

Minho sits back comfortably now, arms crossed in front of him as he listens to you speak.

“City girl. I guessed it.”

“What gave me away?” You ask with a smile.

“iPhone charger request. And you drink Diet Coke exclusively.”

“I don’t like to waste my calories!” You argue.

“You’re in a dive bar.”

The two of you share laughter at your admission, and you can feel your cheeks heat up again. He sure knows how to make you laugh.

“I’ll probably get a motel room for tonight,” you say. “I think there’s one walking distance from here.”

“The nearest one is a shithole. I’m pretty sure someone died there, like, a few months ago.”

You exhale deeply, poking around at your drink with your straw.

“I have work on Monday. I have to get some shut-eye or I won’t be able to get home even if it does stop raining.”

Minho glances around the bar, observing the vacant tables and empty parking lot.

“Yah, Jeongin-ah!” He shouts suddenly, and a figure appears around the kitchen door, peering over at your table.

“Yeah?”

“Clock out,” Minho says. “We’re closing an hour early.”

“An hour? But what if-”

“No one else is coming in this rain. Just grab your stuff And get home safely. I’ll handle the rest of the tables.”

Jeongin’s gaze darts over at you quickly, and then back to Minho, as he nods without saying another word. He disappears into the kitchen once again, presumably to gather his belongings.

“You don’t have to close on account of me,” you say finally, a little unsure of his motives. “I can walk to the motel from here.”

He scoffs, sliding out from the booth and gathering a stack of dirty dishes from the table beside you. “I told you, it’s not safe. You can chill here for the next hour while I do closing procedures, and if it’s still raining, I can at least give you a ride there.”

“Why should I trust you?” You ask, hint of sarcasm present in your voice, but still cautious.

“Technically you shouldn’t,” he says with a smile. “But you’re free to call the cops on me whenever you want.”

“Nice try. My phone's dead.” You shoot him a smile, knowing he’s just messing with you, but wanting to entertain his little game nonetheless.

“Back room, third drawer in the file cabinet. There should be a phone charger there.”

You gasp and scoff. “I thought this wasn’t a convenience store!”

“It’s not,” Minho says, flashing you a toothy smile as he makes his way to the kitchen and calls out over his shoulder. “It’s a dive bar. My dive bar.”

Minho scrubs grease off the plates while you dry mugs on the counter adjacent to him and arrange them neatly in a row.

“So you haven’t left this town in years?” You ask Minho, continuing the conversation you’ve been having with him for the past 45 minutes.

“I drive to the city probably once a year,” he replies. “Hate it.”

“Why?”

“It’s too busy. I prefer simple. Simple people, simple places. A simple life.”

“How can you say that when you’ve never experienced it the other way around before?”

“Have you?”

“Have I what?”

“Experienced a simpler life. Outside of the city.”

“Well… kind of. I mean, I moved out the second I turned 18. Grew up in the suburbs, but I traveled to the city every chance I got. I always knew I wanted to be there.”

“So you’ve never lived without the notion of wanting to migrate as soon as possible?”

“I guess not.”

He wipes his forehead with the back of his arm.

“I grew up in the city.”

“You did?”

“Hated it,” Minho says.

“Why’s that?”

“I was… easily distracted. Got involved with a lot of bad crowds. Never knew what I wanted. Worked as a private chef for a while, actually.”

You stop drying the mug you’re working on and look at him in utter shock.

“You?”

“Me,” he affirms with a chuckle. “I quit one random day five years ago and moved out here with every penny I saved. Obtained ownership of this bar and haven’t looked back since.”

You nod at his words, resuming your task as he shuts off the water.

“Takes some courage, I’ll give you that.”

Minho leans back against the counter and rests his hands on the table behind him. He smirks at you knowingly, and you can feel his eyes pierce through you out of your peripheral vision.

“What?” You say with a blushing grin.

“Nothing,” he replies. “You make a good employee here.”

“Yeah, right,” you say sarcastically, lining up the last mug on the counter and turning around to face him.

“I’d probably start a fire with running water or something crazy.”

He laughs again, shaking his head as you cross your arms.

“I need to close up the registers,” Minho says. “You want to hang out here until I’m done?”

“Sure,” you reply, and he bows slightly.

“I’ll try to be fast.”

Minho leaves to the back office as you wipe your hands with a dish rag, smiling in a daze.

While Minho counts change in the office, you explore the place a bit, making your way around the pool tables to the back of the bar. It’s then that you notice a tall staircase almost hidden away in a back corner. You slowly make your way up the stairs, tip-toeing so as not to startle Minho while he’s in the office closing up for the night. The creaky wooden stairs are muffled by the sound of the rain outside.

When you reach the top, you lean on the banister, looking down on the bar and taking in the view. It looks especially charming like this, illuminated only by the golden neon sign hung over the bar counter and reflecting off the big glass cabinets. Entrance through a small doorway leads to a single, dark room, and you turn on the dim light to explore the room.

There are only two things in the room- another pool table, visibly much older than the others downstairs, and an old arcade game. Upon closer inspection, you find that the game is a run-down version of Pac-Man, one of your favorite arcade games growing up. The giant yellow display is decorated with whimsical little drawings of Pac-Man and ghosts, and you can’t help but crack a smile at the sight, remembering the days you used to play as a kid.

You try the on switch, being met with a buzzing noise and the glow of red marquee lights, but nothing appears on the screen. Bummer, you think to yourself.

“It’s never turned on,” a voice says behind you, and you let out a shout, startled at the sudden noise.

When you turn around, Minho is standing with his hands in his pockets, a black blazer thrown over his button up shirt and a bag slung over his shoulder.

“Got it as a donation a few months ago and it’s lived up here ever since. I think it’d be a hit, if it actually worked.”

You turn back to the machine, observing the gentle hum from the static on the monitor display.

“It’s probably something with the PCB,” you reply, and Minho turns to look at you.

“The what?”

“The printed circuit board,” You repeat, setting your purse down on the floor beside you. “You have a screwdriver?”

Minho’s brows furrow together in confusion, but he nods slowly. “Yeah, sure.”

He leaves momentarily and returns with the requested tool, watching as you drop to your knees and unscrew the door to the cabinet.

“The lights turn on, which is a good thing,” you explain to him. “Means the monitor is still in good condition. So It’s probably just slowed down with general wear.”

When the cabinet door is off, Minho leans back against the pool table and observes as you pull out little parts from the myriad of pieces along the circuit.

“I figured,” You say, sitting back with a tissue in hand. “The EPROMs and ROMs are all warped.”

You pull a bobby pin out from your hair, gently wiggling the pins back in place before cleaning them off with a tissue.

Minho is lost as he watches you, mouth agape at the level of focus in your expression, tongue poking out between your lips as you move with purpose and determination. He realizes he may have undermined you this whole time, thinking secretly you’d crave a simpler life, when all along it was your intelligence and wit that drew you to the city. You’re as complex as the city, he thinks. You can’t be confined within the safety of these four walls like he can. And maybe he’s complex, too. But he’s not sure of himself the way you seem to be.

When you’re finished wiping down the acronyms of pieces, you fit them back in and screw back on the door. Minho watches curiously as you plug in the machine again, reaching around the frame for the switch and flipping it on.

The familiar hum of the screen starts up again, only this time it flashes a bright white color, and then displays PAC-MAN as soft music begins to play.

“Holy shit,” Minho says with a breathy chuckle. “That would've been thousands to get repaired.”

“Take it as a thank you,” you say. “For helping me out tonight.”

You hoist yourself up on the pool table and gesture to the display as he stares in awe. “Try it!”

Minho presses the red START button, chuckling when the familiar tune starts up and the game begins. He makes it through a few rows before getting eaten by a pixelated ghost, groaning when the game flashes GAME OVER and starts up another round.

But he doesn’t resume playing, instead turning around to face you with an unmoving expression.

“It’s drizzling,” he says, looking past you out the little window.

“Mhm,” you reply, though you’re not registering a word he's saying anymore. He’s dangerously close to you again, eye-level with you while you’re sat atop the pool table and not taking your gaze off him.

He seems to be trembling with anticipation, his gaze flickering down to your lips and back up to your eyes, hoping you’ll notice the motion and do something, anything with it.

“We should probably get going,” You say in a whisper.

He swallows cautiously. “Yeah.”

“Right now that the rain is a little lighter.”

“Yeah,” he says again, though neither of you make any move to leave.

“Thanks for tonight,” you reply, your eyes fully locked on his lips now.

Minho begins to say something, but his voice hitches in his throat, instead opting to swallow and and take a single step forward. And before you can say another word, his face tilts in front of you, gently pressing his lips to yours.

He kisses you gently, but he doesn’t waste any time, hands caressing your waist in his embrace and pressing up against you. He tastes like mint, his tongue mixing the flavor with the taste of Diet Coke still in your mouth. When he pulls away, he says nothing, searching your expression for a sign of how you’re feeling. You say nothing, too, eyes flickering over his serious gaze and waiting for him to break the silence.

When he still doesn’t talk, you reach out to grab his collar, pulling him toward you again. You kiss him first this time, slipping your tongue inside his parted lips to taste him fully, gripping his collar like you might lose him if you let go.

“Fuck,” Minho says, pulling away and breathing heavily. He squeezes his eyes shut, a nervous expression tugging at his lips.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t do this,” Minho replies. “With patrons. I just… I don’t know what got into me…”

His words trail off as you work little kisses down his jawline and neck, nibbling over his clavicle and humming greedily against him.

“What if I wanted you to?”

Minho stares at the ceiling as you work him, breath hitching in his throat as you trail even lower.

You pull away from him, tilting his gaze down to meet yours with a hand on his cheek.

“Say you don’t want to kiss me again,” you clarify. “Say it, and I’ll stop.”

His eyes narrow, piercing through yours as his hands rest gently on your upper thighs.

“I don’t want to kiss you,” Minho says seriously.

Your heart drops instantly, the anticipation that had built up pending his answer quickly fizzling as his words pierce through you. Your throat is dry, dozens of questions circling your mind, but nothing that comes to fruition amidst your disappointment. Guess it wasn’t the way you’d read into it all night.

“Okay.” Your voice is shaky, doing nothing to mask your disappointment.

“I don’t want to kiss you,” Minho says again quickly, his thumbs tracing circle patterns on your thighs. He leans in again, lips just barely grazing over yours as he speaks in a whisper. “I want you right here, on this table, right now. I want to do a lot more than just kiss you.”

Your heartbeat resumes, pulsing wildly as he scans your face for a reaction. You don’t grant him one through your facial expressions- rather, you pull him in by his collar once again, closing the gap between you and kissing him even harder this time. You can feel Minho smirking into the kiss, amused with how desperate you are at the simple admission.

His hands snake up your sweater, grabbing desperately at your lower back and pressing into you with his hips. Instinctively, your legs wrap around his waist, neck craned to the side for easy access while he begins to work kisses down your neck now.

“You really suck at pool,” Minho says as he smiles against your skin. His lips find yours again, giving you repeated chaste kisses as you tangle your hands in his hair. His lips feel familiar on yours- almost like you’ve done this a hundred times before. You can’t imagine a version of him you weren’t kissing like this.

“You’re calculated,” you say, smiling as you loosen the black tie around his neck.

“How so?”

“No phone charger, you only agree to play pool when a date with Jisung is on the line, and you’ve gotten me to stick around this long? You’re not as slick as you think you are.”

Minho throws his head back a little, his eyebrows arching as he laughs loudly.

“You might be a genius at fixing arcade games, but you don’t have everything figured out the way you think you do.”

“Oh yeah? And why’s that?”

He pulls away again, completing your task of loosening his tie, and then discarding it completely on the table beside you.

“It stopped raining 15 minutes ago,” he says slyly. “And suddenly you’re in no rush to go home anymore.”

His eyebrows are raised as his hands caress your thighs, moving higher until he’s grazing your hip bones with his fingertips. You don’t reply, suddenly hot at his words, and knowing he’s in fact entirely correct about it. It’s the opportunity you’ve been waiting around for all night- a break in the rainfall to get back to your car and make it to a hotel for the night. But paired against the other opportunity right in front of you- the one wearing nothing but a loosened white shirt and a devilish smirk on his face, you can’t do much but resort to the latter.

“You gonna spread for me?” Minho asks in a gentle teasing tone, his voice much quieter than before as your breath hitches in your throat. You nod, disregarding his first statement and doing as you’re told, slipping off your jeans and opening your legs just enough so that he can move his fingertips to graze your inner thighs. It feels dirty like this, so sinful for your skin to make contact with the velvety table below you. But you’re too dazed with lust, completely encapsulated by his movements to do anything except obey him.

“Good girl,” Minho replies, and your heartbeat quickens at the praise.

His hands dance in gentle back and forth motions along your thighs, gradually getting closer to your core, until his middle finger rests gently atop your clothed clit.

Your eyes dart down to his hand briefly, waiting desperately for him to touch you, to kiss you, anything.

“Look at me,” Minho says.

And you do, making eye contact again with his cold stare, piercing salaciously through your doe eyes.

Another smirk grows on his face as he crouches lower, and lower, dropping to his knees until he’s eye level with your aching pussy.

“Please…” you say, resting your weight back on your palms and spreading your legs further for him. Your breaths are labored, eyebrows arched up at just the thought of his tongue on you.

“Please what?”

“Please, would you… eat me out?” You request quietly, somehow internally panicked that he’ll decline.

But he doesn’t- instead he loops a finger through your underwear, pulling down in a sudden motion, eyes widened at the sight of you like this. You’re swollen with arousal, clit visibly quivering at the proximity of his breath against your folds. Your pussy is deliciously sopping for him, glazed juices painting your cunt all for him.

“God,” he breaks the silence. “You’re soaking. I could probably put it in now and you’d take it, wouldn’t you?”

You don’t answer him, tucking strands of hair behind your ears and looking down on him with anticipation.

“Okay,” Minho says with a slight chuckle. “Just relax for me.”

And without wasting another minute, his hands find purchase on your knees, scooting you closer to the edge of the table before finally burying his face in you. His tongue licks a long stripe along your pussy, smiling at the taste, before his lips latch themselves around your clit and suck harshly.

Your eyes roll back almost instantly, completely lost in the sensation of his tongue gliding back and forth over your folds like a starved animal. His plump lips remain latched to your clit, suckling with lewd wet noises and basking in the flavor of your arousal for him. As your legs tremble with pleasure, your hands quickly find themselves tangled in his hair, grinding him up against you and using his face to satisfy the delicious ache between your legs. Minho is well aware of your desperation, pulling away mere centimeters to grin at your reaction.

“Don’t stop,” you say, massaging his tresses in encouragement to keep going. Minho chuckles, this time latching on to your bundle of nerves with a gentle graze of his bunny teeth. He nibbles tenderly, eyes rolling up to watch your reaction as you sense the shift in his actions.

“Oh my god,” you breathe out frantically. “That feels so fucking good."

Minho smiles into your pussy, giving one small lick with his tongue before utilizing his velvety lips on your clit once again.

“Mmh…” he hums into your pussy, sending divine vibrations that tickle your arousal and instinctively make you moan for him.

“You taste so good,” Minho says between suckling. “I wanna make you cum for me.”

You nod down at him, rubbing little circles on his scalp and throwing your head back when he dips his tongue into your entrance.

“Oh god!”

At first he takes little kitten licks at your entrance, coming back up to kiss your clit repeatedly while you wait in anticipation. And then he brings a hand up to your entrance, sliding one finger in and working it around your pussy as he continues the unwavering attention on your bundle of nerves.

“Yeah, just like that,” you encourage him.

“You like it when I do both at once?” Minho inquires with a knowing smile.

“Yes, fuck” you can hardly answer him between the high-pitched moans that fill the dark room.

“Like when I fill you up?” A kiss on your clit. “Like when I taste you?” He laps at your folds. “Like when I fuck you like this?” Two fingers pump in and out of you now, smearing your arousal back on your clit which he wastes no time lapping up on his tongue.

“Yes, fuck Minho! Please, I’m gonna cum-”

“Cum, then. Want you to make a mess on my face.”

His fingers pump at an even faster pace while he sucks your clit between his teeth and emits a deep moan against your wetness. The vibration of his voice gives attention to the rest of your aching pussy, which finally contracts desperately around his fingers as you leak cum on his tongue. Minho licks you clean, chuckling against you when he takes your clit between his teeth again and hears you gasp in overstimulation.

Both of you say nothing as he stands back up, eye-level to you once again, his chin glazed in your juices. He rests his hands on your thighs as he did before, leaning in to press a sweet kiss on your lips and smile against you. Your hands toy with his belt buckle, tracing the pattern in your fingertips before slowly undoing the buckle and snaking the belt out from the loops on his trousers.

“Let me return the favor?” You ask against his lips, and he takes a sharp breath when you unzip his pants.

“Can I be honest?” Minho replies, and you pull away to look him in the eyes. His round eyes are dark, hooded with lust and curiously peering back at you.

He grins sheepishly, massaging your thighs with the palms of his hands as he speaks. “I think I’ve been hard for you the second you walked in here.”

The words make your heart flutter, suddenly much more aware of his contact against your skin, an insatiable desire to satisfy him and let him do whatever he may please.

Maybe you were the one mistaken all night- maybe Minho’s curt attitude and cold demeanor wasn’t in fact discourteousness at all. Perhaps he was just as drawn to you as you were to him. And now here you are, each drawn to the other like moths to a burning flame, eager to explore and make the fleeting moment last in any way you could.

You laugh at his admission, moving strands of hair out from his face and tucking your face in the crook of his neck, where he presses a chaste kiss to your temple through nervous laughter of his own.

“Yeah?” You say finally. “What are you going to do about it?”

Minho narrows his eyes with a challenging expression, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you off the table, where he now towers over you and intertwines his fingers with yours.

“Turn around,” he orders candidly. Your heart flutters again at the implication- him ordering you around like this when he’s already satisfied you once. But the tone he maintains is both sweet and inviting, and you know his intentions are the same as yours.

You follow his command, facing the pool table as he presses you against the edge, arms wrapping around your waist and peppering your shoulders in little kisses.

His hands snake up your sweater, where he now cups your breasts in his large palms and unclasps your bra. Once you’re bare, you hear him pull down his trousers, the muffled sound sending chills down your spine. If you weren’t dripping with anticipation before, you certainly are now. Minho latches his lips onto your throat, suckling just enough to mark purple bruises along your neck and collarbones. Part of you wants to deny him the little pleasure, reminding him that you have work on Monday and you can’t show up looking like you spent the weekend at a frat party. But the way his skewed front teeth nibble at your flesh stings delightfully, and you can’t bring yourself to protest it.

It’s then that you feel him behind you- his erection pressing into your upper thigh. He pushes into you with force, grinding softly on your skin and moaning against your neck when he feels you lean back into him.

One of your hands reaches out to palm him over the fabric of his boxers, and he lets out a soft whimper at the contact.

“Jesus,” he says “I can’t wait anymore. Prop your leg up for me, baby. On the- yeah, just like that.”

He guides you with one hand, moving your thigh up so that he has better access to your cunt as he palms himself more with his other hand.

“Is this okay?” Minho asks, now freeing his cock from his boxers and tapping gently at your entrance. The sensation of his bare flesh against yours has you in a daze, desperate to be filled up by him.

“Mhm,” you say, drunk off the feeling of him behind you like this.

“Gonna put it in now, okay?”

“Yeah,” you say, breathing heavily as he jerks himself a few times. And without another minute to spare, he’s sliding himself inside of you, bottoming out almost instantaneously as your pussy takes him with ease.

“Oh my god,” you breathe out. “You’re so big.”

Minho smiles against your neck, pressing one chaste kiss and gathering your hair out from in front of your face.

He starts with gentle thrusts, panting in your ear and letting his hands wander all over your body as he moves. Your eyebrows arch up in pleasure, mouth agape as he picks up the pace, the wet sounds of his thrusting teeming all around you.

“God, you take me so well,” Minho breathes. “You’re so wet for me still.”

You can barely respond to him, one hand reaching up to tilt his jaw toward you so you can kiss him on the mouth again, your lips drooling with saliva and fucked-out with pleasure.

“I’m close,” Minho says into your mouth, pausing his thrusts momentarily to then pick up the pace again, much faster and with even more force.

“Ah- me too.”

As he moves in and out of your sopping cunt, one of his hands sprawls out across your tummy, pushing down with gentle pressure as he thrusts. You feel your insides contract at the sensation, now much closer to your release.

“Fuck, M-Min I’m gonna,”

He smiles against your neck again, amused with your reaction to the little move.

“Let go,” he says breathlessly into your ear. “I know you can give me a second one.”

His hand pushes down a little more, now tickling your insides with the constrained sensation against your abdomen.

And between his thrusts, you feel yourself let go around him, letting out a series of breathy moans as you cum on his still-moving cock. Only this time, you let go of everything, trickling fluids over him and the edge of the table, soaking the floor with remnants of you.

Minho’s orgasm follows just seconds after, breathing out melodic whimpers and moans as he feels you squirt, shooting ropes of his cum inside of you and fondling your breasts through his orgasm. He thrusts every last drop back into you, pulling out when he feels you shudder from overstimulation once again.

“So beautiful,” he murmurs between kisses as he pulls out. “You made a mess for me, baby.”

When you’re both finished, you’re quick to dress yourself, pulling your sweater back over your head and buttoning your jeans once again. Minho turns around while you get dressed, well aware that he was inside of you just minutes ago, but wanting to respect your boundaries now that you’re no longer being intimate. He gets dressed too, observing through the little window how the rain hasn’t started again in the entirety you’ve been up here. When you’re done, he turns back around, shooting you a little smile as you fix your hair.

“What?” You inquire, mirroring his expression as he stares back at you.

“Where have you been?” Minho asks simply.

“Hm?”

“Where have you been all my life?”

You cock your head a little, not missing the way he blinks nervously a few times after asking the question.

“Not the suburbs,” you reply with a smile. “That’s for sure.”

The gentle lull of jazz music rings through Minho’s ears as he wakes, glancing around to take in his surroundings. He’s sprawled out on the dingy red couch in the back room, still wearing last night’s clothes, hair glued to his forehead under a sheen layer of sweat. The clamoring of dishes startles him, and he furrows his brows together in annoyance as he wipes his forehead with the back of his hand.

“Minho?” A voice says, and he shuts his eyes preemptively at the inquiry. “Did you…sleep here?”

When his eyelids flutter open again, he’s met with Jeongin, who’s already showered and dressed for his noon opening shift, clutching the till in both hands as he observes Minho’s disheveled state.

Beside him, the little folding table is in disarray, empty bottles of coke and peanut shells scattered everywhere. His mind goes back to last night- the arcade game, kissing you in the spare room upstairs. Fucking you over the pool table at ungodly hours of the night.

After you’d both finished, you agreed to stay in the back room downstairs until daylight when it was a bit safer to be on the road again. You and Minho chatted over diet cokes and a game of cards, between makeout sessions and desperate groping at each other in the dim light of the room. He wanted so badly to make love to you all over again, resisting the urge only because he didn’t want you to think all of this was just for sex. And maybe it started that way, when he fled back to the kitchen after helping you adjust your cue stick during a round of pool in an attempt to hide his raging hard-on. But somewhere along the way, he was also encapsulated by you- by your endearing obsession with Diet Coke, your ability to carry a conversation with a total stranger in these circumstances, and undoubtedly, your unique talent at fixing things.

It was just past 5 when you left, doing a double-take at Minho’s snoring figure to ensure he was actually asleep. You wanted to thank him- in fact, you stood over him for several minutes, playing the conversation in your head of how this would go.

“I’m leaving now- thanks for the life-changing sex and the free sodas. Call me if you’re ever in the city you despise.”

There was no good way to go about it- any which way, you knew that the two of you were destined for very different things, to live completely separate lives.

“You’ve never lived without the notion of wanting to migrate as soon as possible,” Minho had said to you earlier, and you knew he was right, even still longing to one day get out of this province, and maybe even this country. A simpler life scared you- exactly what Minho chased after. And perhaps by extension, chasing after Minho scared you, too.

The dive bar suddenly feels suffocating to Minho, still looming with the rotten scent of cigarettes and beers. For the first time ever, he feels boxed in, much too confined by the four walls and the foggy window at the back.

“I’m leaving,” Minho says, quickly gathering his bag and his blazer from off the floor.

“Where are you going?” Jeongin asks, still holding the till and scanning Minho with a worried expression on his face.

Minho isn’t sure where- in fact, he’s not quite sure about anything right now. All he knows is that you’ve sparked something in him, something he hasn’t felt in a long, long time. The days of working as a private chef paint vivid memories in his mind, days which he still had passion within him, trying new recipes late through the night and never ceasing to better his methods. A time that now feels one lifetime ago, much more complex in juxtaposition with this new life. Except maybe simple wasn’t the solution all along- for once, he’s determined to bask in all your complexities, even if it means sacrificing everything he left the city to pursue.

“I’m going to the city,” Minho says, combing through his hair with his fingers.

“The city? I thought you hated it there?”

Minho says nothing, sauntering to the door and fishing his car keys out of the drawer by the register.

“Oh, and Jeongin-ah?”

“Yes?”

“Call someone to move that arcade game downstairs.”

“The Pac-Man one? It doesn’t work-”

“It does now,” Minho replies. “Just promise me it’ll be down here when I get back.”

“Sure thing. But- how’d you get it to work?”

And without looking back, Minho approaches the double doors, keys in hand, no particular destination in mind. The gray clouds have nearly cleared up by now, fresh hues of blue painting the vast sky that overlooks the day ahead. The city calls out to him from afar, bustling traffic and busy roads clouded in pollution. But this time, he answers, in hopes you’ll be there, too.

*Part 2 out now, available here.

#stray kids #skz smut #lee minho #lee know #stray kids hard hours #lee know smut #lee know scenarios #skz x reader #skz hard hours #stray kids x you #skz #fanfic #Spotify

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pancake-breakfast · 6 months

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Of all the characters to appear thus far in Jujutsu Kaisen, I think Nanami has a particular way of appealing to viewers who are about mid-20 and up. To an audience that's spent time in the work field, that's tried to put in effort for a job that's ultimately a fabrication to make the rich richer and, at best, to not benefit the poor at all, and at worst, actively exploits them and holds them down. To those who have deep questions about the moral fabric of the societal systems they find themselves trapped in, and have questioned their own morality as someone who willingly (if grudgingly) participates in that system.

It's not really a surprise to discover he reflexively protects his soul with cursed energy. Learning to protect your soul is how you weather working under corrupt bosses for nebulous gain. If you can't (and sometimes even when you can), the job will slowly eat away at you, shaping you with its teeth to the perfect cog that it can keep turning until it breaks and is cast aside.

Jujutsu Society might not be much better than the corporate world when it comes to the corruption of those on the top, those who would willingly and too often happily feed the very people they're supposed to protect to a machine they know will destroy them. But at least there, Nanami can embrace a part of him that he tries to keep hidden.

Nanami is, at his core, a protector. Not just physically. When he notices that he and Itadori are fighting humans and not curses, he takes it on himself to do the killing so Itadori doesn't have to get blood on his hands. In Shibuya, his main focus with all the younger and less powerful sorcerers seems to be to get them out of there, even if they could be of help. This isn't because he's underestimating them, but because he doesn't want them hurt. Or hurt more than they've already been hurt.

Jujutsu Society may be just as shit as normal work, but at least there, he can protect others, so he goes back to it knowing full well he's probably signing his own death warrant in doing so.

We can't all find jobs that will allow us to retire young in Malaysia. In fact, most of us won't, and even those who might may find it's not actually worth the cost. But I hope we can at least find a job that's our Jujutsu Society, where maybe it's still shit, but it feeds our soul in a way we need to be fed.

It's what Nanami would want for us.

#nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen #character analysis #pancake thoughts #nanami appreciation week #yes i know already i'm coping

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plutolovesyou · 2 months

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10:15 Saturday Night

READ THIS FIRST! 🇵🇸

☆: this one-shot is based on this little imagine/idea thing y'all really liked! ellie coming into your bedroom after throwing rocks at your window, that famed rom-com trope. i love making titles from songs so here’s this one. linking it because i despise the way the audio embed thing looks, that shit’s so ugly- have nothing else to say except this was meant to be only fluffy, but i got a little carried away at the end (and sub!ellie turns me into a rabid raccoon so) 😇 smut is embarrassing af to write i better get over that lmao but anyway, hope you enjoy!

♧: 5k word count

◇: SMUT!! porn w/ plot, but it's sweet. lotsa fluff too, modern au, established relationship, reader feels gloomy in the beginning, mentions of unspecified argument, dorky ellie saves the day, mentions of being irritated at family, mututal teasing back n forth, ellie’s lowk annoying LMAO. kinda mean reader (but in a hot way), lazy/rushed intro bc i’m impatient. cuddling → starts out as top!ellie but oops! a dash of nipple play, a little fighting for dominance ending in sub!ellie & dom!reader, fingering (e! and r! receiving), oral (e! receiving), risky sex. she's a whimperer folks- lawd i needa ruin her….this is very self indulgent, in case you couldn’t tell. lmk if i forgot anything!)

Waiting for the telephone to ring, and I’m wondering where she's been. And I'm crying for yesterday, and the tap drips. Drip, drip, drip, drip….

Robert Smith’s vocals rang through the room as you spun around in your chair, round and round and round until you got dizzy, your brain being jostled around in your skull as if you were on a rollercoaster. Gaming chairs, powerful things they were. You were lost in thought, pondering the state of the world and your life, because you had nothing better to do other than wallow in your miseries.

Everything was going downhill, or that’s certainly what it felt like currently. You hated every single one of your responsibilities and life was generally not being kind to you. But most of all, you hated disagreeing with your girlfriend. Ellie could get a little feisty when things didn't go exactly her way, and you loved that fighter quality about her, but maybe not when it was used in your disagreements with her. This particular day her spunky attitude was getting on your nerves, and both of you had gotten a little irritated with each other.

You knew that neither one of you meant anything you said in the heat of the moment, you just had occasional squabbles like everyone else. However this time, today’s words hit you a little harder. Not to mention it was spring break and so for the time being you’d gone back home to spend time with your family. Ellie had done the same. You were very grateful the two of you grew up close to each other, only started your relationship years after initially meeting. You enjoyed reminiscing about the budding moments, adored looking back on the good ole days.

The source of today’s irritation could have been a myriad of things. Maybe you’d had another little fight with your family members, had a lot of assignments due after the break was over, and the weather was generally horribly ugly. Gray, cloudy skies, pouring rain, wind and chilly temperatures, everything was just going swimmingly. When all of that added up it was only natural for people to be a little on edge, and briefly forget the good moments life had to offer, wasn't it?

Picking up your phone, you stared at the sent message to Ellie, just a plain text asking what she’s up to. Even in moments of disagreements where you needed space to get yourself back on track, you would send her little messages as a way to show her, and reassure yourself, that it was only temporary and the two of you would talk it out amazingly and come out even stronger on the other side.

But now you’ve been left on delivered for hours, was she really that busy? Knowing her, it was likely. Her and Joel were probably out fishing or hiking or doing some other fun outdoorsy activity, while you were just left to rot within the confines of your childhood bedroom. Had she not ticked you off earlier you would have asked to come with. Waiting on an answer from her of any kind would only serve to frustrate you even more, so you put your phone away and collapsed into your warm, inviting bed, despite it being way too early to go to sleep. But you didn’t feel like doing much of anything else, so a little shut-eye wouldn’t hurt.

Within moments you were out like a light. Blissfully relaxing in dreamland, where you were frolicking amongst colorful flower fields and riding on the back of a unicorn into the sunset, dancing with fairies and twirling to your heart's content. Your family dog’s deafening barking was drowned out by you playing the harp with elves and floating endlessly into an abyss of turquoise waters. You were so deep in this wonderful dream, it was healing you in all the right ways you needed right now. Restoring every ounce of energy you lost, fighting against your inner saboteurs so efficiently. You’d simply stay there forever if you could. Until-

Plink, plink, plink. A small, repetitive sound persisted through your slumber, eventually waking you up. Startling awake and switching on your lamp, you stepped out of bed with a groan, stumbling over your steps and rubbing your eyes to get to the window to see what in the world could possibly be happening.

It was raining heavily, and seemed to be hours after you had initially fallen asleep. You squinted through the raindrops coating the pane of glass and down into your yard as an attempt to scout out the noise. Looking down through the blur, you were met with your loving, apologetic girlfriend, her form scurrying around your yard in the dark of night, scavenging your yard for something. Were those pebbles she was throwing at your window? How cliche.

It appeared as if she had found some, standing upright and rearing her arm back in preparation to fling it at the glass, until she saw you and waved. You didn't open the window just yet, and signaled to tell her to scram. What was she doing here at this hour, in this weather? You flapped your arms frantically in every direction, out towards every axis, resulting only in her pouting and shaking her head. You weren't going to get rid of her that easily.

Twisting and turning the knob to open the window with a creak, you lean outside in the drizzle and stage whisper down at her. “Ellie? It's like, I don't even know the time, but it's late. What the fuck are you doing?” The phrases thrown at each other during your earlier squabble flickered through your mind again, but you pushed them aside because the sight of your love always made your heart melt. And she was clearly up to something, so you were going to see it through to the end.

She shouts up at you, “Hey, I wanna say I'm sorry for earlier. I wanna make it up to you so-” She cuts herself off by bending into a kneel, setting down her bag on the wet grass and rummaging through it, pulling out her navy blue ukulele and clearing her throat. You feel yourself blush from the actions, might be from second hand embarrassment, might be because you're touched by the gesture. She begins.

“So, uh, I tried getting my guitar but it was too big to carry all the way here and I don't want it to get wet so, this'll do.” She strums it, gently swaying from side to side, and sings a scuffed rendition of A-ha's Take on Me, her voice shaking slightly and the cheap instrument being significantly out of tune. The rain and distant thunder was drowning her out, but watching patiently was more than fine. You stay at your window, listening to her serenade until the last few lyrics.

Not even realizing it, but once she finishes the performance, your heart is warmed and you're beaming at her. You truly loved her so much, and as much as you wished to, couldn't stay mad at her for any longer. And regardless, standing out in the rain getting soaked to the bone like that was her punishment, in a sense. The moonlight is dancing on her face in a way that makes her eyes twinkle as if they were plucked straight from the cosmos, and she's grinning widely at you. Enchanting as ever.

“Did it work? I love you!” She blows you a kiss, wipes her slicked down hair from her face and shudders violently. “It's really cold down here, can I come up? Please lemme in.” The slight nasally tone in her voice could make you do anything for her, damn, this girl didnt even know how much of a hold she had on you sometimes.

“Fine. Just one sec.” You closed the window on her to take a quick, silent stroll through the halls of your house to make sure every one of your family members was situated in their respective rooms, and unlikely to be disturbed by any ruckus. By the time you made your way back to your own room, Ellie had already perched herself in the big oak tree next to your house. She was crouched at the top of it, gripping onto a branch and peering inside your room, calmly waiting for you to return and so you could give her the “okay” to come in.

She startled you momentarily, looking like a bit of a creep staring into your house like that, but you laughed it off and opened the window fully for her. “Okay, here goes.” Ellie mumbles under her breath and inches forward closer to the edge of your roof. It wasn't a big gap, but there was a sure possibility of injury and it was a risk you didn't want her to take, but Ellie being Ellie, she was going to be reckless and do it anyway.

What if her foot slipped on the wet shingles and she went splat on the ground? Or broke every bone in her body with a crunch…? That wouldn't be pretty. Your stomach flipped with nerves and you grimaced, turning away. “Please don't die.” She didn't respond and instead only focused on completing the jump to your roof with a “hmf”. One step was done, you breathed a sigh of relief and opened one eye.

She was slowly making her way there with both arms outstretched, and as she had almost completed the journey, she tripped. You screeched quietly and turned away again, that was definitely helpful, but bracing yourself for the worst inevitably proved unnecessary when you heard her familiar raspy giggle. She caught herself just in time and was at the windowsill now, appearing winded from the effort and adrenaline.

“Heh, told you I'd be fine.” “Ellie don't scare me like that, just hurry up.” You helped her crawl inside your candle lit room by the arm, and once she was inside only then did you notice how drenched she was from the rain. Just sopping wet, dripping water all over your, thankfully, hardwood floors. The severity of the conditions outside only became even more apparent to you now, poor girl was about to turn into an icicle. It would be mean of you to leave her like this and let her catch a cold, she hasn’t wronged you quite that much. But a part of you was feeling a little playful, a little mischievous perhaps.

“Don't move, I'll find you something warm.” Before you can disappear inside your closet to find her some dry clothes she attacks you in a clumsy embrace, resulting in you being soaked now too. You try to pry her away and feel goosebumps come on as her cold lips connect with your neck, moist smacks as she smooches you all over.

“Let go, Els, c'mon you're gonna get me all wet too.” You lament to her, then regret your choice of words instantly as she pulls away to look at you, wiggle her eyebrows and smirk, to which she comments. “Damn right I am, that's m'goal.”

Whenever she pulls dirty jokes on you your immediate instinct is to burst into laughter, but you clap your hand over your mouth and hiss back at her. “Shhhh we gotta be really quiet, everyone's asleep. I don't feel like getting a talking-to at breakfast in the morning, y'know because ‘their house, their rules’.” You whisper the explanation to her as you roll your eyes and mock your family's words, adding air quotes as well.

Ellie gives you double thumbs up in response, solemnly swearing to not produce a peep. After rummaging through your drawers, you find a warm pajama set which matches yours and make her put it on while you sneak around to grab her a towel to dry off with too.

Moments later the two of you are cuddled up in your bed together, entangled in each other's arms, enjoying the quiet company. Just listening to the other’s steady intakes and exhales of oxygen, warm hands caressing over clothes stroking each other's hair, wanting to absorb into the other and assimilate into one being. What a shame that wasn't possible, you thought.

There wasn't too much of a need to discuss the disagreement in depth, because of the mutual understanding it wasn't anything serious, and ultimately the product of annoying circumstances, which was definitely a huge relief. Shit happens, and you were as glad ever to be entangled in her arms again, although it was worth mentioning in short anyway. You break the silence by whispering into her ear.

“You didn't have to come here Els.” You hear her let out a throaty chuckle, then squeeze your waist tighter. “I felt bad, I know you've been kinda under the weather recently. And wanna say sorry for being annoying earlier.” She murmured into the side of your neck, sending tingles on a path spreading throughout your whole body.

While the the two of you were cuddling in your room keeping conversation faint as can be, she had absent-mindedly began to roam her hands around your body, from the sides of your ribcage, to clutching your waist, to settling on your hips to play with the waistband of your fleece pajama pants. She was placing feather-light kisses on your neck simultaneously, and you found it hard to believe she didn't know what she was doing, but it was definitely working on you, and you frankly found it funny. She really did have a habit of being handsy. Your logical side was screaming how bad of an idea this was, but your horny side…

It was like the angel and devil sitting atop your shoulders, debating the pros and cons. You wondered who was going to win.

Teasingly whispering back to her, “Els, what do you think you’re doing?” Even through her hushed tone, you could hear the smirk dancing upon her pretty pink lips. “Nothin’ much, just feelin’ up my girl.” She finishes the statement with a firm squeeze to your boobs. Subtle. And just like that, the little devil was winning, you could hear their maniacal cackles metaphorically in your mind.

“Ellie, my fuckin’ parents are asleep in the next room over, do you know how thin these stupid walls are?” “So?” “So??? Do you want me to die knowing they were woken up by their adult, straight-A, accomplished, child sneaking in her girlfriend in the middle of the night, like we’re teenage hooligans in a movie or something?”

You'd put Pinocchio to shame by lying like this, knowing full well having her cuddled up close to you, feeling her strong hands sensually explore every curve and valley on your body, and her wearing some of your favorite pajamas was slowly but surely getting you all worked up. All that in tandem with the risk factor was turning you on much more than you'd care to admit. Unpack that another day. Your face was burning and your heart rate was increasing whether you liked it or not, and your girlfriend was right there…a little messing around wasn't going to hurt anyone, was it?

Hesitantly giving in, you turn around in bed to face her and wordlessly press a kiss to her lips, shoving down the lingering embarrassment. It surprises her and she doesn't kiss you back right away, instead laughs in your face and cracks more stupid dad jokes, only making you roll your eyes and punch her in the arm. She snickers, “Ha, not so good after all, are ya?”

When you don't throw a snarky remark back at her she takes your face in her bracelet-clad hand, thumb gliding across your bottom lip smoothly. The dim light in your room casts shadows on her face that make her look mystical, and hot as hell. “Wanna make you feel good.” She murmurs, mostly to herself, while scanning your features shamelessly.

You abruptly sit up and she follows, watching you quizzically. You look her up and down a few more times, just for the sake of it, before roughly yanking her towards you by the shirt and slamming your lips onto hers. She responds properly this time, slipping her tongue into your mouth with ease just how you like it, her grabby hands running all over your body, not knowing where to settle.

The kiss is hot and greedy, pure need coursing through your veins. You'd only been apart for a week at most, and it was definitely a week too long. Your own hands find their way up to her auburnette locks as you grab a fistful and pull, coaxing a scarcely audible groan rumble from her throat. You nip and bite down on her neck, stopping when you get to her pulse point where you could feel just how hard her heart was racing, reveling in the tiny pants leaving her lips as she tried so hard to stay as quiet as possible per your request, screwing her eyes shut and gritting her teeth.

She pulls you back up to meet her in a sloppy kiss, maneuvering the two of you so she was on top of you and you were on your back, gripping the soft flesh of your thighs as she places herself between your legs. Her fingers playing with your nipple while the front of her pelvis rammed against your heat was making you desperate for more of her, and quickly.

Her hands slid under your shirt and caressed your skin all over your entire torso, then you stopped her to take your shirt off and throw it to a corner of your room. Ellie wasted no time to place her mouth on your chest, peppering sweet kisses wherever her lips could reach, licking and sucking on your nipples until they hardened, pausing to stare up at you when the sensation made you squirm into her and sigh. “So much for being quiet, huh?” She taunts oh so smugly, thinking she's got to you.

But her voice fluctuates in pitch as her mind becomes more clouded with arousal, resulting in you getting wetter and wetter. She was going to kill you. Bucking your hips into her in pursuit of some friction, she takes the hint and briskly undoes the bow on your pj pants, and slides her hand in. Her fingers land on the wet spot soaking through your underwear and she prods at it, just to annoy you further.

She really was being purposely insufferable today. You jeer at her, “can you just-” She shuts you up by kissing you again, messily and open-mouthed, swallowing every little sound you made. You pull her closer against you by the waist, and she whimpers. That turned you on even more, if that was even possible, your whole being thrumming with lust, new ideas materializing in your mind. What if you got back at her for being annoying, and in the best way?

The risk factor of having to stay impossibly quiet only added more fuel to the fire, and now you wanted to challenge it as much as you could. You snake your hand down her body and palm her pussy over her clothes and you swore you could feel her clench as soon as you made contact.

She lowers her head to your shoulder and her hand in your pants stops moving, you've officially broken this girl with one lazy touch. “Hmm?” You hum, feigning foolishness as if nothing was deliberate. “Seems you're the needy one here, Els.” Cooing at her in a low voice, her uneven breathing fills your ear. The way she'd planted herself on top of you made the task difficult but not impossible, and you shimmied your hand to her boxers, feeling up the wet spot that was surely triple the size of yours. Not cracking jokes now, is she?

And voila, you knew what your next moves were going to be. Your only goal was to have some fun with her now, just because you could. You began to rub your fingers up and down her slit, the thin fabric catching her clit perfectly making her breath hitch as she tries to suppress whines. “Hey, that's not…fair.” Ellie attempts to regain composure over herself and talks back through gasps, but you don't cease what you're doing. Breaking her was too good.

She fights back by copying your motions, her shaky hand rubbing your pussy at a messy rhythm, up and down, side to side, really not accomplishing much because eventually you win, and she removes her hand from you and presses her body against yours, clutching your waist for dear life and shoving her head in the crook of your neck to stabilize herself.

Her whimpers and tiny moans were music to your ears, egging you on to do more. Moving the fabric aside, you slide a finger inside her needy, drenched hole, slick dripping down your knuckles as you find her spongy spot and curl your fingers against it. She hisses on top of you, clearly you were doing something right.

Inserting another one, you could feel her walls clench and gush around your digits, as you ruthlessly pressed against her g-spot, the heel of your palm bumping against her sensitive clit, eliciting harsher whines from her, muffled by your shoulder.

After a short few moments, you could tell she was about to cum by the way her pussy walls fluttered, and whimpers increased in desperation, sugary, dulcet “ah- haah"s escaping from her lips.

“Gettin close, Els?” Your voice was supple as honey, you were enjoying this too much. She gulps and nods her head, “yeah..hn..please.”

Not so fast. “Hm, okay.” Replying in a cheery tone, as cheery as you can be while whispering that is, you stop all you're doing and tap her on the back. She puffs and sniffles, her voice small and trembling. “What'd you do that for?”

She was too cute like this, you chuckled at her pathetic attempts to rut against you to get that release, and grunt in annoyance.

“Patience.” “Whatever.” She grumbled. “Lay down.” You order her gently, and stroke her hair. Of course she obeys, she needed this too much.

With shaky arms Ellie lifts herself off of you, pouting down at you then plopping herself down beside you in the bed.

Switching places, you stare down at her fondly, wanting to make her feel good properly now. She deserved it after all that. You bend to kiss her forehead, which makes her blush go from rosy to crimson to maroon, her freckles blending in with her cheeks, and she bites her bottom lip while avoiding your gaze. Her expression was simply adorable, all flushed and fucked out already, all for you.

You grope at her chest, making her whine and scrunch her face up. “Need you, please.” She asks, so nicely, her normally confident voice breaking. Of course you'll give her what she wants.

You decide she's waited plenty enough, and tug her boxers and pajama bottoms off in one swift motion, discard them in the same corner of your room your shirt is currently residing, and get to work.

Wasting not a second more, you rapidly shove your face in her pussy, latching onto her clit and sucking with fervor. Taking her in your mouth, grazing with the tips of your teeth ever so gently. She squirms beneath you, her knuckles turning white from how hard she's gripping the sheets on either side of her.

Losing yourself in her, nipping and sucking and licking to your heart's content, humming at her taste and purring praises into her, “pretty, pretty pussy” the vibrations from your low voice reverberating through her only making everything more intense. One particularly forceful knock of the tip of your nose to her clit makes her squeal and close her thighs around your head, unfortunately that was much louder than preferable.

Both of you freeze, chests heaving up and down, staring dazed and wide-eyed at the other, and listen through the walls to see if it caused any disturbance, and you shoot a glare at her once confirming it was unnoticed by anyone in your otherwise silent house. Not a rustle was heard, thank goodness. You exhale through a whistle, then warn through your teeth, “One more sound and I'm pushing you right out that window, got it?”

It came out meaner than you'd meant it to, but she accepts and nods meekly, responding in a wobbly voice, “M'sorry, can't help it.” You relax and press kisses on the soft flesh of her inner thighs, before resuming just as before.

You continue devouring her, her toned abs flexing and caving in beautifully, the light slurping and squelching sounds filling the room, all while holding her hips in place, fingers pressing into the shape of her muscles while she arches her back above you and her fist flies to grab onto your hair, with deathly strength. A symphony of choked “guh- uh” left her throat while you lapped up her slippery fluids, sensing her body twitch as her orgasm began to build. She didn't even have to tell you, you knew her body like you knew your own at this point.

Curling your fingers in her once more, tongue never halting its circles around her pulsing bud and a final thrust to her g-spot was enough to push her off the edge, finally.

The rush ripples through her as her whole body seizes and tenses up, she's creaming around your hard-at-work fingers, and you help her ride out the high by licking gently and weakening the pressure until she pushes your head away because it was getting too much. All that with no sound louder than a mere squeak and string of whispers resembling your name and a colorful array of profanities, she had bitten down on her hand so hard her canines had left dents, but otherwise looked so content and at peace. Gasps lessening and breathing steadying to the pace before, a faint smile on her pretty face, and her eyes lazily closed.

Seeing her all satisfied and happy in turn made you happy, and you cuddled on top of her, laying your head on her chest. Her heartbeat was going at such a fast and frantic pace, you loved hearing it slow back to normal.

Adjusting yourself made her wince, still so sensitive from all you did. “Sorry Els. Did so good.” You mumble and lean up to peck the side of her neck as she drapes her arms around your back and rubs in circles, calming the both of you.

She hums contentedly. “Love you.” “Love you too Els.”

You didn't even care about cleaning up or moving or anything of the sort, because being close to her was all that mattered. The last thing she said before falling asleep and kissing you on the top of the head was, “To the moon and back.” And you fell asleep immediately after her, feeling loved and comforted just like whenever you spent time with her, your girlfriend's ideas always turned out well after all.

Now as for the morning, that was a problem for future you to deal with. Were your parents going to barge in your room and throw her out, or was it going to be an awkward conversation? Who cares? Now it was only time to drift off to dreamland together, hand in hand.

And that you did. You disappeared from this reality and into an ethereal dream world just like earlier, only she was there with you. It was eternally euphoric, the two lovers delightfully singing duets with the fairies, skipping into the horizon and climbing up the arcs of glittery rainbows, it was more than you ever hoped for. As if there never was any disagreement to begin with, all issues were solved when you were together with her, your other half.

Now this dream you really wanted to stay in forever, but since that wasn't possible, you vowed to savor and appreciate it, and her, to the fullest.

lol someone sedate meeeeeee. idk how to end these. pikmin :3 IKKK THE ENDING IS RUSHED TOO AAAA whateva.

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i-drop-level-one-loot · 9 months

Text

I worry about you (Clingy!Yandere x Delinquent!Reader)

CW: body trauma, unhealthy relationships, yandere behavior

"I don't understand, why are you saying these things?!" Everett shouted, tugging on (Reader's) jacket like a man fearful of drowning. The two stood at the top of a set of wooden outdoor stairs built into a steep hill in the city's little hiking trail/park, a meeting spot where they often hung out after school.

His brown eyes glowed under the sun like molten gold, churning with heartache as he held onto his only friend.

(Reader) kept their face rigid like stone, fighting the desire to retract what they had said, their decision was final. It was for Everett's own good. "Dude, stop acting crazy. You're acting like we were dating. I'm just saying that I need space. Go make other friends, go on dates, I don't care. Jesus, just stop hanging onto me all the time."

Lies, all lies. I don't mind how clingy you are. I love that you stay by my side. I know I have a shit personality, I know I'm trash, so I really appreciate that you're the only one to stay my friend. You've been my friend since we were ten years old, so please, PLEASE, fucking take the hint. I've seen that the teachers have started to treat you differently just because you're my friend. And how many times do I have to rescue you from wannabe thugs who only fuck with you because they hate me? You deserve better than that.

You deserve better than me.

(Reader) roughly shook their only friend off their arm. It was painful now, for both of them, but (Reader) knew it was for the best.

"But why? What did I do wrong?" Everett sniffled, rubbing his eyes as the waterworks persisted. (Reader) turned to leave, unable to watch Everett any longer without their resolve crumbling. "WAIT!" Everett panicked, reaching out to latch onto (Reader's) arm again. (Reader) felt his fingers brush against their arm, and threw back their elbow to push Everett away.

They didn't know, however, that Everett had stepped forward. (Reader) misjudged how hard to push, not knowing that Everett was closer than he was just a second ago. Their wrist smashed into Everett's chest, causing him to stumble backwards, and tumble down the stairs.

Eyes widening in fear, (Reader) immediately began sprinting down the steps, skipping two at a time on the way down as their friend bounced against the weathered wood, hitting the dirt at the bottom hard. Their heart was beating so fast it felt like they would have a heart attack as they jumped the last couple stairs, crouching over their best friend crying in the fetal position.

"Everett, oh my God, are you okay?!" They gingerly scooped his upper half into their lap, examining his head for injuries.

"My- my arm..." Everett cradled his arm, crushing (Reader) further with guilt.

Placing his head down carefully, (Reader) took off running, calling out for help in hopes that someone nearby had a phone to call an ambulance. They disappeared out of Everett's sight, hearing them hollering as they ran away.

As soon as (Reader) vanished from view, Everett stopped crying, sitting up miserably. How did this happen?

Everything had been going so perfectly. Everett had set himself up as a weak, innocent best friend for (Reader), tailoring his personality for the past eight years to ensure that (Reader) would never leave him. When his family uprooted his life at the age of ten, he already knew there was no chance of happiness in his future. It was hard enough convincing anyone at his old school to like a freak like him, but being a new kid on top of having a personality that for some reason pushed everyone away? Everett knew it was hopeless.

But it seemed fate had other plans for him. The very first day in the new home Everett attempted to climb the large tree in his fenceless backyard and slipped, falling out of one of the lower branches. It hadn't hurt all that much, really just stinging a bit, but he didn't have time to even sit up before his new neighbor was rushing over to help him, having witnessed the fall from their back window. (Reader) was an angel, the summer sunlight illuminating their form like a halo. They didn't waste a second, pulling Everett's body onto their back, struggling under his weight but forcing their tiny muscles to carry Everett to his parents. It didn't even hurt, and Everett was more than capable of walking on his own, but having someone his own age care about him for the first time in his entire ten years of life.. he played into it, relishing in the attention he was receiving, forcing large crocodile tears out in hopes (Reader) would stay by his side longer. And it worked.

It worked for eight years, so why were they pushing him away now?

He constantly allowed himself to trip in front of (Reader), embarrassing himself over and over to keep them paying attention to him. Even now, throwing himself backwards down a flight of stairs while making it look like an accident, just to prevent (Reader) from leaving him.

Unfortunately, nothing was actually broken on him. He glanced around, finding a rock almost too large to grasp in one hand. Unlike when they were children, Everett didn't believe crying would be enough to keep (Reader) by his side. He rolled up the sleeve on the arm he pretended was broken, biting down onto the front of his hoodie. It didn't matter if (Reader) was only with him out of guilt, it only mattered that they were with him.

Everett smiled through gritted teeth, thinking about (Reader) sitting next to him in the hospital, refusing to leave his side for even a second, then brought the heavy rock down onto his arm with an audible crack.

Please continue worrying about me.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere best friend #clingy yandere #yandere fanfiction #writing #not proofread #tw manipulation

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folkloresthings · 2 months

Note

op81 + “bombarding them with blankets, tea, heating pads, and anything else they’d need when injured/under the weather”

the man grew up with 3 sisters, he DEFINITELY knows all the tricks to helping his partner with all the fun stuff around periods

[ ways to say ‘i love you’ ] bombarding them with blankets, tea, heating pads, and anything else they’d need when injured/under the weather with oscar piastri.

the first time you got your period at oscar’s place, it was about two months into your relationship. nothing was completely serious yet, all you both knew was that you liked each other more than you had ever liked anyone before. still, when you nipped to the bathroom in the middle of the movie he had chosen and saw your monthlies had started, you panicked blindly. stuffing some toilet paper in your panties as a cautionary measure, you quickly made your excuses and hurried out the door before oscar could question it.

the next time it happened, a few months later, you had no excuse to just run off. you were staying at oscar’s for the weekend — it had been planned for months, to have him all to yourself between races. you knew your period was due and so had packed everything you needed. the one thing you couldn’t avoid? oscar’s neediness.

“so pretty,” the australian murmured, lips nipping at the soft skin on your neck. the warmth of his body on top of you, the tv show on the screen long forgotten, almost distracted you completely from trying to bring up the fact that his advances couldn’t go any further.

“osc—” you started, but his lips finding that magic spot behind your ear sent your interruption to mush. “osc, wait a minute.”

the boy sat back, sweet concern lacing his pretty features, tracing your own for any cause of harm or distress. “what is it? did i do something?”

“no, no,” you assured, shaking your head. the heat in your cheeks began to rise, the words hanging on your tongue but too afraid to come to light. “i can’t. not today.”

“oh,” oscar mumbled, defeated, lips turning downward.

“i’m on my period,” you whispered, as if there was a room full of people to eavesdrop.

“oh.”

suddenly you wished the sofa would swallow you whole, or at least shrivel you up until you were small enough to hide behind one of the cushions. you weren’t embarrassed by the fact, it was completely natural. but with it being so early on in your relationship with oscar, you were both still trying to let the idealised sides of yourself shine through. part of you was afraid this would make it all too real for him.

“i’m sorry, osc,” you muffled, catching your bottom lip between bashful teeth, glancing up at him in suspense.

“shit, no — it’s okay,” he exclaimed, sitting up suddenly. quickly pulling his shirt over his head, you have to look for his tongue to see if that’s why he keeps tripping over his words. “uh, stay there. i’ll — i’ll be back.”

oscar vanishes through the living room door in a flash, leaving you alone on the couch in only your bra and shorts. curling into yourself, the embarrassment took over as your mind began to race. god, you had scared him off. he was probably going to pack your bags and call you an uber home. maybe you shouldn’t have come at all this weekend, instead making your excuses and faking a cough over the phone.

so caught up in your spiral of dread, you didn’t even hear your boyfriend come back into the room. in one hand, a cup of tea. in the other, a hot water bottle and some chocolate, balanced with a blanket under his arm.

“here, two sugars — just like you like it,” he murmured busily, setting the mug down on the coffee table. “i haven’t got many snacks but i can run to the shop and get you whatever you want. there’s some painkillers in the kitchen too, so let me know if you want any. but the hot water bottle will help the cramps for now.”

blinking up at him, you feel like you want to cry. how could you ever think that oscar (your sweet, lovely, darling oscar) would run off at the first sight of something real?

“hey, hey,” he cooed, noticing your watering eyes and wobbling lip. gathering you into his arms, he almost smiles at your adorable shock. “it’s alright, don’t cry.”

“i thought i’d scared you off,” you sniffle, rubbing your nose. oscar hooks a thumb underneath your cheek, pulling your gaze up to him.

“darling, i grew up with three sisters in the house,” he chuckled, brushing your hair back. “i’m an expert in this.”

rather than express your immense gratitude, for you didn’t really have all of the words, you nuzzle yourself back into his arms and squeeze his middle tightly. oscar only smiles, kissing the top of your head, and settling you close to his side. tea in your hand, hot water bottle tucked under the blanket, he lets your settle down before passing you the remote.

“put on love island,” oscar tells you, trying not to smirk when your eyes light up. “but this is the only time of the month i’ll ever watch it with you.”

with a kiss to his cheek and a delighted giggle, you flick through his tv until you find your favourite season of the series. while you’re busy with that, you don’t notice oscar making a quiet note in his calendar of when to buy you extra chocolate and flowers every month.

#🌙 ﹐ drabbles.#formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri headcanon #oscar piastri drabble #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader

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notjustjavierpena · 4 months

Text

Mouthful

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost

A/N: Made with the help from my loveliest @strang3lov3 with a talk about men conking out after cumming and how Hubby Javier still hasn’t gotten his dick sucked. So to all the girlies who want to give your fictional husband a blowjob, this one is for you.

Summary: Javier is starting to come down with the flu but he just simply won’t lie down to have some rest. You have a trick that never fails.

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader/You (No y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, husband!javier, domestic life, sickfic, Inés is a menace, Javier is a stubborn man, ❤️ JAVIER HAS A DAD BOD!!!!!!! ❤️, blowjob, deep-throating, mouth-fucking, praise, dirty talk, cum-swallowing,

Word count: 2.8k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52856839

Mouthful

You hear the clink of plates being lifted out of the dishwasher, the sound of Sebastian crying, stuttering sobs as he is bounced, and Inés going on about something that happened in preschool. Javier is barely listening, replying with half-sentences that seem to make his daughter more frustrated with her father not paying attention and eventually leading to her talking louder.

The idea of what will meet you in the kitchen is enough to make you want to flee to the bedroom, enough to make you want to pretend that you haven’t heard them during an extended nap. However, you could never bring yourself to let Javier go through the hell of late afternoons with children alone.

“Look who’s up,” he says with a desperate smile as you enter the room, twisting his whole body to make his crying son spot his mother. As soon as Sebastian’s eyes gaze upon you, his wails die down and they stop completely the moment you take him from Javier’s arms.

“Mom! Guess what happened today at school,” Inés interrupts just as you are about to say something. She speaks loudly, and you automatically reach up to cover Sebastian’s ear that isn’t pressed into your shoulder.

“Inés, indoor voices,” Javier finally manages to say, reaching up to rub his temples, “Shhh…”

“Sorry,” she makes a face, not completely convinced.

“What happened at school?” You ask but instead of looking at her, you find yourself staring at your husband who looks like absolute hell, glassy eyes and exhaustion radiating from him. Inés giggles as she tells a joke that isn’t really a joke, too lost in her story to notice that you aren’t really listening.

Javier places a hand on the kitchen table, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. His shirt is crumpled, his eyes have dark circles and you don’t actually think that he has even noticed that he is sniffling every other moment. He sighs deeply, breathing mostly through his mouth as he does it, and then goes back to emptying the dishwasher.

“Are you okay, honey?” You ask him, stopping midway to shush Inés who doesn’t look pleased, “You look under the weather. Are you feeling okay?”

There’s an almost offended nature in Javier’s reply. He doesn’t stop what he is doing, sorting through the cutlery, “What? No, yeah. Estoy bien, mi amor (I’m fine, my love). Just need to get this done.”

“And then what?” You ask with a raised eyebrow.

“And then I’ll get started on dinner,” he tells you with a tired smile that isn’t very convincing.

“You look like… m i e r d a (shit), and you probably feel it too. I was sick last week,” you spell out the dirty word, using the Spanish word because the English is short enough to make Inés guess what you are saying.

“Mom,” Inés predictably complains.

“I’m fine. I just need 20 minutes where no one comes near me,” he says with exasperation. He finishes up the bottom drawer of the dishwasher and goes to pull out the top one. You find yourself laying a hand on top of his, stopping him in his tracks.

“Javi,” you say softly.

“What?” He grumbles.

“I can finish up here. I’ll cook dinner,” you tread lightly, knowing that he hates being babied by you. Him not pulling his weight is a common fight that the two of you have had, and he probably feels on edge when you ask him not to help out with the kids.

“I can do it,” he snaps but suddenly sneezes, and it ends up making his nose prickle enough to cause his eyes to water.

“Go do something else, laundry maybe. I’ll do this,” you say a little more firmly, strategically sending him to your bedroom to make him spot your bed and have some well-earned rest, “It’s really not a problem, and you know I hate doing laundry anyway.”

“Fine,” he holds his hands up in surrender.

“I love you,” you say in a sing-song voice as he leaves the kitchen, “Go have your 20 minutes.”

Inés looks longingly after her father but you manage to distract her with a snack before she runs after him. You run your free hand over her hair as she eats a peanut butter sandwich, Sebastian cooing happily on your hip as he has been allowed to chew on a banana.

“Do you want to watch cartoons before dinner?” You ask, “Give Mommy some time to get things done in the kitchen, and then I can hear all about school while we eat?”

“Fine,” she parrots her dad, holding up her hands as well and running off to the living room. You follow her, setting Sebastian down in his playpen and turning on the baby monitor. Then you turn on the TV, adjust the volume, and let Inés busy herself by singing along to her favorite theme song.

You finish emptying the dishwasher, cut vegetables, and throw them into the slow cooker with other ingredients, and after you check on both of your kids, you realize there’s some spare time before you have to pick Lucas up from his play date.

You decide to go upstairs to do another round of laundry, but when you cannot find the laundry basket, you go to your bedroom. Javier must have taken it when folding clothes.

“Jesus, why are you not resting? I sent you here so you’d eventually nap,” you groan as you enter the bedroom and see Javier putting his shirts on hangers.

“I told you I’m fine,” he seems even more sick at this point, nose slightly congested and causing him to speak nasally, “I can do this.”

You walk up to him to yank a clothing hanger out of his hands and throw it onto the floor, receiving a glare in response. Javier doesn’t look pleased with your behavior, but you don’t find his stubborn attitude charming either.

“Javier F. Peña,” you tut, “Just go lie down and trust that your wife has everything under control. It’s what a lot of husbands do, you know.”

“Well, wife, I don’t need your permission to do housework,” he tries to push past you but you catch him in a disarming embrace, giggling as he tries bending down to pick you up so he can move you out of his way. You avoid his efforts, catching him by the wrists when he straightens once more, and push him back towards the bed.

“You need rest, husband,” you shove him when the back of his knees hit the edge of the bed, and he lets himself fall down into the mattress, bouncing slightly as it connects with his back.

“I don’t need a nap, I’m not a child,” he groans dramatically.

“Then stop acting like one,” you pull the baby monitor out of your pocket and place it on the nightstand. When Javier tries to sit up again, you snap your fingers and point at him, “Nuh-uh, lie down.”

It makes you realize that you need to use alternative methods to get him to obey; he simply won’t do as he has been told, and if anyone is ever in doubt about where Inés gets her stubbornness from, you’ll simply glance over at her father to answer the question.

“What if I treat you to something special?” You ask with a little smirk, moving to the end of the bed so you can proceed to crawl onto him. You sit on his legs, “Think that’ll make you relax?”

You already know the answer to that question. He looks ready to conk out.

“I’m actually fine, I don’t need—“

“I know, Javi,” you reply. Your fingers find his crumpled shirt and you pull it out of his jeans, shoving it up over his stomach so you can access his belt, watching your husband twitch underneath you at the sound of the buckle clinking as you undo it.

He lifts his head to watch as you tug down his jeans and underwear, “Just so you know, I’m not sleeping after this. I have to—“

“I know, Javi,” you repeat, bending down to nuzzle your nose against his soft stomach. His cock lays flaccid against his thigh, but you pull it out from underneath the waistband of his briefs to lay it against his tummy so you can skim your palm up and down the shaft. His soft cock slowly comes alive underneath your touch, and soon you can wrap your fist around him to stroke him till he stands completely erect.

Below you, Javier groans when you press a kiss to his belly, “And I have to get the laundry done.”

“Whatever you say, baby, let me take care of you and I’ll let you do as much laundry as you want,” you hum against his skin, relishing in his warmth and his so-called dad-body - the last year has blessed you with Javier getting a little softer to the touch - that you nuzzle up to at every opportunity you get.

Javier isn’t a fan of himself growing soft around the middle but you savor it every time you get to see that bit of pudge strain against his usual jeans (which he refuses to buy in a bigger size). If you thought he was gorgeous when his muscles were toned and his body looked younger, you had not been prepared for how good he looks now that he is older, rounder, and getting comfortable. His arms are still deliciously strong; an overwhelmingly sexy result of still carrying Inés around everywhere, picking her up from the ground if she has a tantrum at the grocery store.

“God, you’re so sexy,” you pinch his stomach to earn a little noise. Javier says your name in disapproval but you just look up at him with a smile, grabbing more of his pudge before biting into it and kissing it afterward, “Let your wife have her fun.”

Javier is just about to say something - you don’t know whether it is about his body, the lack of a blowjob, or laundry once more - but you know it’s more complaining and so you cut him off by running the flat of your tongue from base to tip of his cock. He tastes like salt. If you had the time, you would not finish until his scent and taste were everywhere on you. In your clothes, etched into your skin, and on your tongue.

“Oh shi—“ he gasps, resting the back of his head on the mattress once more. He breathes deeply in through his mouth, nose still stuffed, and stares at the ceiling as you work your tongue up and down his shaft only to follow the wet trail with your nose.

When you reach his cockhead a third time, you suckle on the very tip to rid him of the pearl of precome that has accumulated at the slit and is threatening to slide down (you want to treat yourself to it before it does). Above you, Javier moans at feeling your mouth, not your tongue, properly for the first time.

“Fucking hell, baby, gotta admit that I didn’t see this coming,” he half-chuckles, half-groans.

“Maybe I just wanted to shut you up for a moment. You are stubborn, you know,” you pull back to talk, look up at him, and nuzzle needily at his cock. He looks down at you but you simply smile, “I looove you for that though, not annoying at all.”

You follow your little snarky remark up with a press of your lips to the underside of his shaft, using a hot open-mouthed kiss to cut off whatever offense he might take from your teasing. He doesn’t even seem to register it after feeling your mouth on himself again.

Then you let saliva gather in your mouth before spitting directly onto the head, using your hand to smear it down his length by stroking him a few times. You lean over him and bring your mouth down over his girth, no teasing or anything, until the thick head hits the back of your mouth.

“Fuuuck, and then up again,” he groans, a strong hand reaching for whatever he can grab of you. His fingers curl around your shoulder, moving inwards until they dig into the back of your neck. Slowly, you drag your lips all the way off of him again.

Javier makes a sound when you pull off but it quickly turns into a whimper as you let more saliva drip down. You smear this too, swirling your sinful tongue around the tip and occasionally licking like were you eating a popsicle on a summer’s day.

You can feel him pulse against your lips, so you show mercy and let him into your mouth again. He is hot and heavy on your tongue and a moaning mess above you, nails starting to dig into your skin.

You start bobbing your head, hand on the base of Javier’s cock to hold his generous size in place. When he bumps against your throat for the first time and thus makes you gag the first time, he lets out a sound that you can never get enough of and it causes your cunt to throb between your legs.

“Who would think that a pretty girl sucks cock like that? Oh, fuck… I love you, just like that—” he talks in a way that makes you think he might not even be aware of what he is saying but is simply letting his mouth run, “Suck that cock, baby. Good fucking girl, married the right one, didn’t I?”

You hum in reply and he growls at the vibrations of your voice. The pride you feel is indescribable, and so you seek out his approval once again by moaning as you taste him. Even if it results in your eyelashes dampening from Javier pushing his hips upwards, you lean further down and force yourself to relax your throat.

He slides into the tight space at the back of your throat and his hand flies to the top of your head. He fists your hair desperately when you gulp around him and make your throat spasm, tugging at your follicles to the point where tears slide down your face. Soon, they also mix with the spit coating his cock.

You swallow around him again. Javier holds your head with both hands now, “Can I - Christ - can I fuck this gorgeous mouth? Por favor (please), baby.”

Even if it is hurting a little, you nod the best you can because Javier’s groan as he starts thrusting his hips upward is worth any ache in your body. Your thighs flutter, your clit pulses.

Both his hands gather your hair in a makeshift ponytail. He uses it to move your head as he pleases, makes you bob on his dick until you gag wetly with every other thrust of his hips. Every time he bucks his hips, his thigh muscles flex and your nose buries itself in his happy trail.

“You gonna take it?” He rasps, chest heaving. He is nearly there, muscles in his whole body twitching as he slowly loses control over himself when pleasure is so close. The next thrusts are maddening and you can’t blink any tears away even if you tried, “Fuck, swallow, baby. Take my come.”

You look up at him through your wet lashes and hum a mhm, confirming. Yes, yes, yes, give it to me.

You know he is peaking when his breath stops. He holds it during the last thrusts, finally letting out a loud moan as he finishes and sucks in a deep breath afterward.

His cock spurts in the next moment. You can feel it hit the back of your sore throat, warm and salty, in several pulses and automatically, you swallow hungrily around his girth. The action makes him groan weakly and his hips stutter until he finally needs to let go of you. His arms lie flat along his side.

“Holy fuck, baby,” he sighs contentedly when you pull off, “Fuck, I don’t even know what to say.”

“Don’t say anything, Daddy,” you tease, and then you treat the sensitive head of his cock to a few innocent kitten-licks, essentially cleaning him up until he softens.

He whimpers when it becomes too much, and so you pull off to kiss him along his stomach. You can hear his breathing changing, turning into something less erratic.

“You okay?” You eventually ask but receive no reply. You look up.

As predicted, Javier snores. You smile to yourself as you push yourself away from him, careful not to wake him up as you pull his briefs and jeans up again, leaving the latter unbuttoned.

“Javier Peña, the most stubborn man on the planet has a weakness,” you whisper and shake your head with a fond smile.

You grab the baby monitor from the nightstand and leave him to sleep, knowing he’ll wake up feeling a lot more sick and, hopefully, a lot more cooperative. You bring him a glass of water and some Tylenol to wake up to, write a note for him about how much you adore him, and that you’ll take care of everything. He needs it.

FOLLOW @notjustjavierpena-fics AND TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS 💖❤️💖❤️

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mrsmikaelsxn · 1 year

Text

Broom Cupboard Activities

masterlist

pairing: theodore nott x female reader

warnings: smut, fluff, cursing

summary: you and theo abandon a slytherin party and sneak into a nearby broom cupboard, a makeout session leads to more ;) - requested by anon

a/n: thank you for this request, i love writing for theo sm, i hope you enjoy xx!

song: sex, drugs, etc. - beach weather

You and Theodore were dancing together at another Slytherin party. They had just won a Quidditch match against Gryffindor.

You had on a tight, short silk dark green dress. Theo had worn a black suit and a green tie to match you.

The music was loud and you had to ask Theo to repeat what he said, since you could hardly hear.

"Want to sneak away, love?"

"Of course," you smile at him. He takes your hand in his and you squeeze past all of the students in the common room.

You guys finally make it past everyone and speed walk in the corridor, giggling like little children.

Theo spots a broom cupboard and pulls you in with him.

The doors shut behind him and he pushes you against them.

"I love you," he whispers and connects his soft lips to yours.

One hand of his is on the door, next to your head, the other he uses to wrap around your waist and pull you towards him.

His tongue slides against your lip and you open your mouth for him.

You bring your arms up onto his shoulders and run your fingers through his soft and fluffy hair.

"I love you too," you pull back to whisper before connect your mouths again. You feel him smile into the kiss, bringing a smile onto yours as well.

He groans when you tug on the ends of his hair. You push him back and move him so that he is now pushed against the wall.

You two had limited space because of the size of the cupboard, and you couldn't see much since it was so dark.

You start kissing his neck and jaw. Continuing your kisses, you take off the top of his suit, followed by his shirt.

You suck on his neck and collar, leaving hickeys to form.

His breathing picks up as you trail your kisses down his chest, running your fingers along his toned stomach.

You drop to your knees, and Theo looks down at you. He mutters a spell to make the floor feel softer for your knees. You smile up at him in thanks and start to undo his belt.

You get it off and pull his trousers down. You start palming him and he lets out a low groan as hit eyes flutter shut. You grin seeing how hard he is.

"Please, my love"

You then slide his boxers down, and take him in your hand. You slowly start pumping him and he releases a moan.

"Shh, love, you don't want us do get caught do you?"

He shakes his head and bits his lip to conceal any noises threatening to leave him. You whisper a silencing spell while hes distracted by your hand just in case.

"Fuck, sweetheart, I n-need your m-mouth"

You nod your head and kiss his tip and his head drops back onto the wall.

You lick him a few times, just to tease him.

"Darling, please," he begs.

"Okay," you whisper.

You take him in your mouth. Perks of having no gag reflex. He accidentally lets a loud moan slip. He prays to Merlin there isn't anyone by, still unbeknownst to the fact that you silenced the cupboard.

He brings his hands to your hair as you bob your head, sucking him off. You pull back and blow on his hard cock, he shudders and whimpers when you swirl your tongue on is tip.

You take him back in your mouth and run your fingers up and down his thigh.

"Oh my fuck, you look so pretty like this," he groans.

He bites so hard on his lips as you work your talented, talented mouth.

"Shit, I-I'm going t-to c-cum," he whimpers.

You don't stop, only here and there for about two seconds so you can breathe.

"Ah, shit, darling, I-I"m cu-" he start but a moan is released from him as he releases in your mouth.

He watches as you swallow all of it, his breathe are ragged and you lick his tip, cleaning any cum left on him.

You stand up and lip your lips, he almost moans at the sight.

He brings his hand to your neck and pulls you into a sweet kiss as a way of thanking you without speaking words.

"Your mouth does wonders," he grins breathlessly.

"Why thank you, Mr. Nott"

"I'll pay you back for that later," he winks.

"I'll hold you to that," you kiss his cheek.

He puts his clothes back on and you say a spell to make yourselves look like you both haven't done anything.

"You know, I used a silencing spell," you inform him, stepping out of the closet.

He grabs your hand and follows you.

"You cruel, cruel woman"

You laugh and drag him back to the party.

Once you successfully make your way back in, you see Blaise walk up to the two of you.

"You guys are disgusting," he fake throws up and points his finger back and forth between the two of you.

"Oh shove off, mate," Theo smacks his head.

He shakes his head and holds up his hand as he walks away.

"So, dance with me again?"

You smile and take his hand that he held out to you. He brings you back to where people were dancing and you too let loose as you just enjoy each other's presence.

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luvyeni · 5 months

Text

❛GINGERBREAD HOUSE❜ ( l. haechan )

p. bf!haechan x fem!reader w. 0.4k+

— 𖦹 warnings. unprotected sex , kitchen sex , dirty talks , mentions of food play

— 𖦹 ( building gingerbread houses with your boy goes south) !

8 days of christmas masterlist

“Im done!” You smiled, taking in your work. “It’s perfect.”

It was the holiday season; the time of cold weather, hot chocolate while holiday shopping, and your favorite, forcing your boyfriend to decorate gingerbread houses. “Me too.”

You turned to check out your boyfriends, only to be met with nothing but a mess. “Haechan what did you do?” The walls were stacked on top of each other, candy not even in sight — and your boyfriends face covered in icing. “Im sorry the icing was so good.”

“It was for the house haechan, you even ate the candies.” You said, he smiled cheekily. “They were really good.” You glared at him. “No need to panic, we still have yours which looks beautiful by the way.” He praised, you couldn’t help but shake your head laughing. “Baby look at you.”

“How did this happen.” You wiped some of the sweet cream from his mouth with your thumb, bringing it to your mouth licking it, that innocent action made his cock turn in excitement. “Fuck that was hot.” He groaned, kissing you deeply.

He sat you up on the counter top, wrapping your legs around his waist. “You’re turned on already, I barely did anything.” You teased, he whined. “Because my girlfriend is fucking hot, and I can’t help but get hard.” He said. “Yeah?” he nodded. “Wanna fuck you.”

“Then do it.” That’s all he needed before he undid the string on his sweats, pushing them to his ankles. He pulled your panties to the side, stroking his half hard cock until he was fully stiff, pushing his cock into your hole. “Fuck hyuck!”

He groaned as he full stuffed his cock inside your cunt. “so fucking wet.” He moaned, moving his hips. “fuck you’re so hot.” His hips snap against yours, you skin slapping against each others. “Sh-shit you’re so tight.”

He sped up his movements, his cock stretching you deliciously as his tip kissed your cervix. “Fuck baby, gonna cum inside you.” He groaned. “Fill you up with my cum.” He reached between in your bodies where you connected, rubbing your clit. “Fuck hyuck im gonna cum, harder!”

He pressed down harder on your clit, you gasped , moaning out as you came. “fuck, you’re pussy is sucking my cock in.” His hips stuttered. “fuck.” He groaned, his cum filling up your hole — some of it leaking out. “shit.”

You pulled him into a sloppy kiss, pushing your tongue into his mouth , tasting the cream from the gingerbread — sucking on his tongue. You felt his cock twitch inside you he pulled away, cursing.

“If you love the way that cream taste so much, I got a few ways we can put it to use.”

©️LUVYENI

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kira-fluff · 2 months

Text

reaction to finding out you have a chronic disease | fem!reader x haikyuu!!

this idea popped into my head in the shower. shower thoughts are the best. as a chronically ill person such as myself (mentally and physically, LOL!) i felt maybe I was a little qualified to write this. these are all diseases i experience! i can def write some that i am not diagnosed with :) i'm a biology nerd, so i love learning new things, especially about diseases! some of these are more serious than others. i tried to keep the disease symptoms/descriptions general so it can appeal to more diagnoses (for example, nosebleeds are indicative of several different diseases) that way more people can feel represented by what i write!

‼️warnings: mentions of blood, nekoma team being dorks, seizures, WAY too many ellipses (sorry I just love them), pointless bantering (oikawa), dramatic af, osamu described as "caked-up" (sorry not sorry), railing on atsumu for shits and giggles, deep hatred of the word moist

want to see a different haikyuu character's reaction? request here! also, if you want to read a specific disease represented, i can see if i can put it in there too :)

✿ kuroo tetsuro "hey when do you want to- OH MY GOD ARE YOU OKAY?!" blood dripped from your nose onto the gymnasium floor. "oh. another nosebleed. my bad, I'll clean that up..." you said apathetically. "hey, this is sort of a big deal, ya know? shit... yaku, I need a towel or something!" he shouted. they really weren't anything serious. ever since you were little, you had frequent nosebleeds. your mom wrote it all off as the cold weather (even in summer), so it wasn't really that big of a deal to you either (until a few doctor visits later). still, the apathy you felt toward your predicament remained. yamamoto had already rushed over at his captain's call. "does she need an ice pack, too? fuck, I don't know what to do...." "aren't you supposed to tilt your head up?" one member asked. "no, no i think you're supposed to tilt your head down...." another muttered. "GUYS, GUYS I GOT IT. GOOGLE SAYS TO 'sit down and tilt your head forward, pinching the top part of your nose above the nostrils for like, 10 to 15 minutes.'" lev sat back proudly, phone in hand. "can't believe you were smart enough to look that up..." kenma whispered under his breath. "hey, hey, look at me. you still with us?" kuroo said, a hand on either side of your face. despite the towel against your nose, you couldn't help but laugh. "oh my god, guys! it's not like I'm dying! this happens all the time." "but that's not...normal. did you ever get it checked out?" kuroo stared at you inquisitively, his brow raised. his fellow teammates nodded. you sighed. "look, unless there's a lot of excessive gushing or anything like that, they said i should be okay. yes there's a whole disease behind it all with a long-ass name that no one can pronounce and yes there are sometimes other symptoms that could result in death, but I'm totally fine, okay? I'm perfectly healthy!" "you poor, fragile angel..." lev said, a hand on his chest, distraught. "that... does NOT make me feel more relieved. at all. in fact, I'm more worried. should we go to the hospital? that one looked a little... gush-y...." kuroo said, pacing back and forth before setting his eyes back on you. removing the towel from your nose, you shook your head. "no. look, bleeding nose already gone, see? I'm not going to the hospital. I'm completely fine. relax, kuroo." kuroo stared at you for another moment, taking in your expression, searching for any signs of discomfort. at last, he sighed. "ok. fine. I concede. but if you ever feel the littlest bit unwell, tell me or one of us, okay?" after your agreement, and several more minutes of doting from both your boyfriend and all the other team members, you at last parted ways. as you got out of the shower that night, your phone lit up with a notification. tetsu 💕 [11:23pm]: I'm serious about what I said back there. please talk to me when you aren't feeling good. you mean so much to me that I can't imagine what life would be like without you. sleep well, babe. love you.

✿ osamu miya "damn are you o-- OKAY, YEAH, NO. SHE'S NOT OKAY." it was your average day as a supportive, amazing, fantastic girlfriend watching your iconic, sexy, hot, caked-up boyfriend play volleyball with his piss-haired twin and the rest of the team of inarizaki. unfortunately for you (and the entire volleyball team), inarizaki had a recent issue with their air conditioning units. even more unfortunate was the fact that the fans in the gymnasium were practically there for decoration, that's how useless they were. despite it being late march (still quite cool outside), the players and spectators were drenched in sweat. still, you weren't about to let a little (lot) bit of sweat deter you from cheering for your mans! so, you remained in the stands, cheering as loudly as you could (except for the times when you couldn't because atsumu was once again on his I'm About To Serve Power Trip). it was finally nearing the end of the game, and thank GOD it was because you were starting to feel reaaalllly light-headed. at the final score of the match, you stood up, but oh, was that a mistake. suddenly, you legs started shaking. the lights suddenly seemed to dim down and black spots were popping up in your vision. maaaaybe you should sit back down. wait. where is "back down"? it suddenly occurred to you that at this point, you couldn't see anything. beginning to panic, you started reaching out to find something to hold onto, thankfully finding the stair railing of the bleachers in your grasp. slowly, you blindly fumbled your way down the steps of what you hoped were the bleachers steps. you heard someone shout something along the lines of, "you good?" you were far too panicked and far too focused to give a reply. don't fall down. don't fall down. don't faint. don't pass out. you chanted in your head like a mantra. you heard the squeak of shoes against the ground and voices talking back and forth around you when suddenly a steady hand grabbed ahold of you just above your elbow. guess that was all you needed before your consciousness flickered, then extinguished.

"....cold like ice...." "...pale as hell...." you could only hear snippets of sentences, and your eyelids felt heavy. "....have something....with sugar, preferably...." when you finally opened your eyes, you were no longer in the gym, but in inarizaki's nurse's office. "hey..." you turned, now noticing the other occupant of the otherwise empty room. "'samu... did I faint again?" his eyebrows rose. "again? like, you've done this before?" "yeah. happens a lot. 's fine though. was a little scary back there for a minute, though." "damn, I'll say. I've never seen someone so pale. and sweaty. and that's saying something, cuz post-practice 'tsumu is disgustingly moist." "'samu, I love you, but never say that fucking word again." "what, moist?" you cringed, grabbing at your ears, "ugh, yes! I'm already dying here and now you're nailing the final mark in the coffin." osamu gave his signature half-smile. "I thought you said you were fine?" you scoffed, "that was just to make you feel better. I'm gonna need lots of cuddles tonight to wave off my near-death experience." he let out a light-hearted laugh. "okay. plenty of that for you regardless of whether you're on death's door or not." he said, giving you a small peck. you pursed your lips. "I need you right now, though." his face split in a full grin as he slid next to you on the small bed. "anything for you darlin'."

✿ oikawa toru "please... please be okay..." you had been enjoying your regular weekday study session. it always went as follows: meet up after class, head off to aoba johsai's library, study (and perhaps get slightly off-topic over some vending machine snacks and drinks), and at last, go to volleyball practice (perks of being a manager!). "ok, ok, we should probably finally look at what we're supposed to know for our next english exam," oikawa said, still in between chuckles. "but toru... i can't go on without a drink..." you clutched your throat dramatically. "must... have.... beverage.... dying of.... thirst!" oikawa laughed again, "geez, fine!" he said, attempting to sound annoyed by your request (and failing miserably). "I'll go grab us something to drink. on me." he winked. "wow. what a gentleman. you really spare no expense, spoiling me with luxurious drinks from the beverage box of wonders! oh how lucky I am to have such a supportive boyfriend..." you leaned back on your chair, drying a fake tear of gratitude, while simultaneously stifling a giggle. "damn, ok. fork out the yen, then, babe." "nooooo~~~ I was kidding! I'm sorry you're the best ever in the whole wide world~~~ my little piglet oinkawa~" "ok now you're paying for my drink too." "I'm sorry!!!! I won't call you oinkawa ever again." "thank you-" "to your face." after at least 15 minutes of more bickering (and no studying) oikawa was off to the so-called beverage box of wonders, also known as a shitty-ass vending machine that was probably last refurbished in the '90s. oikawa was still laughing to himself as he rounded the corner to the library, drinks in his arms. "hey babe, are you finally studying?" he smirked, finally nearing your small alcoved study area.

- thud, thud. the long-forgotten drinks fell to the floor as oikawa rushed over to you. there you convulsed on the ground, your eyes white and pupil-less, and your mouth foaming, turning a slight twinge of pink. you let out small grunts, completely unresponsive. "oh my god, oh my god, hey, hey listen to me." oikawa was already in full-fledged panic mode, tapping your face with his hand. "oh my god, SOME PLEASE HELP HER!" the few left in the library looked over at oikawa, then at you, before beginning to run about. one was on their phone speaking to a 911 operator, another rushed out of the room. one kneeled alongside oikawa, checking helplessly for a pulse. "protect her head." a girl read out from her phone. oikawa immediately shed his jacket, placing it under your head which was hitting the ground rapidly to the incongruent rhythm of your convulsions. "check her bag, does she have any meds?" "SHE'S MY FUCKING GIRLFRIEND I THINK I'D KNOW IF SHE HAD MEDS!" oikawa shouted. he didn't mean to snap, but he felt so useless. were you hiding this from him? how did he not know you had seizures? were they always this bad? despite what he'd told the unnamed student, oikawa, jumped up, grabbing your bag and nearly ripping the zipper with the force he'd opened it with. no medication. "no meds." he said, quieter this time. a hand rested on his shoulder. "it's gonna be okay, man. look, she stopped." oikawa whipped his head over to you, chastising himself for removing his eyes from you for even a second. you were still breathing, but it was like you were in a deep slumber. by the time the EMTs arrived, however, you'd begun blinking your eyes lazily at your surroundings.

- "hey oikawa." you said, smiling. oikawa said nothing in return, his head in his hands. you sat there for a moment, taking in your surroundings. "wait a minute, where am i?" you felt a tickling inside your nose. at the touch of your hand, you realized you had a breathing tube hooked up you. another glance around the sterile hospital room showed your heart rate monitor and other cords wrapped up around the hospital bed. you laughed, "...and what's all this stuff on me?" "you had a seizure." oikawa said sharply, though not unkind. you stared at him once more in disbelief. "...really?" "yeah. I came back from getting our drinks when...when I found you lying on the ground, shaking. the doctor says you bit your tongue, which explains why the foam that was coming out of your mouth was pink. they want to do an MRI on you." "oh." you gazed down, then met his eyes again. "you... had to deal with that all by yourself?" "other people in the library helped me... though I don't think I was the nicest guy to be around. its sort of all of a blur." you smiled, "for me, too. I can barely remember what we were talking about before I woke up." oikawa's eyes widened, "really?" "yeah... but I think I'll be okay, as long as you're here." "this hasn't happened before, has it?" "no, not really. I mean, I've always gotten light-headed easily, which is sort of how I felt before I, ya know... went down... but never like that. I don't think. then again, if I wasn't here in a hospital bed, I think I would've just thought I fell asleep or something. it just feels like I took a long nap. still kind of tired, honestly." oikawa shook his head. "I'm never letting you out of my sight ever again." "oikawa, seriously. it's gonna be okay. I'm fine. nothing bad happened, right? I didn't die." "BUT YOU COULD'VE!" he shouted. "...you could've.." he said again in a whisper. suddenly, he got up. leaning over the hospital bed, he pressed his lips to your temple, leaving a soft kiss in its wake. "I just... I don't want to see you suffering. I don't want you to get hurt." "but you were there." "but what if I wasn't?" "but you were." you slid your hand over his own. "oikawa, it's gonna be okay, I promise. I'm a little scared, too, but... I know we'll figure something out, okay?" he let out a mix between a sigh and a laugh, "why does it feel like I was the one who had the seizure? some boyfriend I am, making you feel worse." "oikawa shush." you placed you index finger over his lips. "you're not allowed to talk about yourself in that way in my presence." he rolled his eyes, but his dimples popped out in a wary smile. "you're amazing, you know that?" you imitated deep-thought, your finger on your chin. "hmm... no, doesn't ring a bell." a full grin bloomed across his face now. "then I'll spend the rest of my life reminding you."

a/n: romanticize the source of your medical bills girlies 💕 it works wonders

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