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crumblinggothicarchitecture · 2 days

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Hey. This might be very stupid, but i hope you answer this.

Today I accidently got sucked into your blog, which is ironic since I'm a huge swiftie. (but I'm not here to hate on you, I swear)

The thing is for months I've been doubting where I stand on that. Like if i should call myself a swifte or not. when I was young, I used to worship the ground she walked on. but in the past year, I've slowly realised I've been very sheltered. like the problems people point out about her sometimes are actual real problems, but my brain just doesn't know how to respond to that as it has been taught taylor swift is a goddess and can do no wrong. Since your posts are tagged with #exswiftie, i figure you'd understand.

I am not from america, so I can understand then politics part of it all only to a certian extend. the other things, I just dont know what to say to that. The most i can reply is..."yes that is a bit of a problem". I feel don't feel like a swiftie at that moment.

I had fed my mind this narrative that people who hate taylor swift passionately are like untrustworthy or just a walking red flag, or just "don't get it". Now after reading your actual breakdowns I understand you have a rather educated opinion and perception of things. Which clearly rules out my narrative.

I don't know what I feel like I have to define where I stand on this, I just do. I know I genuinely enjoy her music a lot, even there are songs I don't want to hear more than once. I love the whole swiftie lore, digging deep on each lyrics finding out what they mean, finding clues easter eggs just losing my mind over surprise songs. Then i see this other side, which can't be defined with anything less than deeply toxic, which makes me question whether or not this thing i love so much is genuinely good or not.

Hello dear, apologies for the delay in reply :) I am happy to chat with you. I hope that you did not think I would ignore you.

I was also a Swiftie for nearly 15 years. I got her debut record as a Christmas present in 2006 or 2007. Though I cannot remember which year it was, I loved her from the start. At 10 years old, I was immediately interested. My mother approved of me owning her music simply because she was inoffensive. She didn’t curse or talk about sex, in the beginning, so she was deemed appropriated for my childhood self. She and I have since grown up. She is now a terribly pretentious bully- and, well, I grew up much too poor and much too hungry to turn into a bully like her.

The problem- and something I think you’re very much aware of- is that Swift has built herself up in her fandom as perfect. She encourages fans to defend her every action- and rewards them for their efforts through “Swiftmas” or “Secret Sessions” or “hidden easter eggs that only the smartest- most dedicated fans will figure out.” It’s all methodically calculated to keep up an air of reciprocity between Swift, as the fearless leader, and her band of merry misfits- the fans.

You are not dumb for falling into her rhetorical situation - she's set the marketing strategy up on purpose. It’s specifically created to attract attention- and, to make people feel good, or productive, by participating in her marketing strategy. She gives people an image of herself as a poor innocent victim of the media, or of any critique, and then rewards people for defending her. In Literary study, we call this “Pathos” as the rhetorical appeal to emotion through messaging- textual work of some kind. Rhetoric like this can be found in all sorts of media- commercials about starving children or beaten dogs, charity event banners aiming to persuade someone to donate. It’s all predicated on the appeal to our common emotion, or human capacity to empathize with each other. For, every time fans are rewarded by her attention- after defending her from a perceived enemy, or figuring out some hidden clue- they feel closer to the idol, they feel happy to have her attention. They get that emotional impact of believing they are helping Taylor Swift, or understanding her better on some more human, connected, level. It’s a game of risk and reward for her. Never mind that none of this altruistic- she gets paid through our attention on her- and if you are not directly lining her pockets with your cash money, she does not actually care about you. It’s the image of caring she projects that matters much more than the fact that she doesn’t actually care.

I’m sure you can think of many more examples wherein Swift has played this game of attention and reward with fans. It’s everywhere- her easter eggs are a great example. Sometimes her use of Pathos is benign- non malicious, therefore a non-issue. However, she often weaponizes this rhetoric in a way that is harmful.

This interplay she sets up, between herself and her fans, is made more intensive through her pathos- heavy approach to Rhetoric. To further illustrate, one of the ways people often explain Pathos is by saying that it represents our, as human beings, judgement affect. We see, or hear, the narrative Swift espouses and make judgements about it. If she says: The music critics are sexist towards me. We say: 1.) Sexism is morally wrong, 2.) Taylor Swift is facing sexism from Music critics, Therefore.) The music critics are sexist and morally wrong, because they are criticizing Taylor Swift.

So, all the critics are bad- and we don't need to listen to them. It's also a way Swift creates permissive attitudes towards attacking anyone who critique's her- because she can so easily label them all as sexist.

She uses this basic syllogism to justify leveraging her fans against all kinds of people- it's not just the critics. I just wanted to give a concrete example, and I will go more in depth on this subject in another post.

She is playing with people’s emotions, while she is also self-victimizing,and leveraging her audience’s innate human rejection of, for instance, sexism as it offends our personal values. No one is saying that sexism isn't morally corrupt; however, Taylor Swift points to valid criticism and calls it sexism so that her audience will attack. People often have valid critique of Swift- She just doesn't want to face critique at all- ever. If people say her music is too self-centered- Swift says that is Sexism. If people say her music is boring- she calls it sexism. If people say her music is shallow and only centered are relationships- She calls it sexism. When, in reality, it's valid criticism that has nothing to do with her being a woman. Only ever writing songs about your own myopic, self-centered perception of interpersonal relationships is shallow. Her music is objectively boring, because it's derivative. Her music is completely self-centered- and she only admits to that when it benefits her, but when critics say it, she calls it sexism.

Please don’t think badly of yourself. I am not here to hate on you either- I was you. I am not here to hate on anyone at all- I just want to share how my own knowledge, and expertise, of rhetorical appeals and literary analysis can expose Taylor Swift. Swift relies on this rhetorical technique to thrive, she obfuscates the truth, schemes, and manipulates people into thinking her music is the best thing on Earth- or thinking that she is literally a Saint. Clearly- nothing on Earth is that perfect- So why does she need her fan base to consider her a genius, and a saint, so badly?

Personally, I have no problem admitting I have flaws. I think most sane people can admit to their flaws. It’s not a bad thing to have flaws. So why does Taylor Swift react to all criticism like it’s the worst thing on Earth. Why does she have a whole song about calling critics “mean/ and a liar/ and pathetic/ and alone in life” (“Mean” 2010). She has the nerve to call that song an “anti-bullying” song; yet, is it so clearly bullying that random critic who wrote a bad review about her concert one time in 2009? She really hated that guy- and all he was doing was his job. She called him a drunken loser for just doing his job.

She's written so many songs about how all her critics are just stupid, morally corrupt, or sexist: "The Man" (2019), "Mean" (2010), "But Daddy I love Him" (2024), "New Romantics" (2014), "Shake it Off" (2014), "I know Places" (2014), "Anti-Hero" (2023), "Paris" (2023), "Blank Space" (2014), "I did something Bad" (2018), "Dancing with our hands tied" (2018). There are more songs wherein she carries this theme of "everyone is out to get me, and they all hate me for no good reason" but I think I've listed enough.

The general message is all over "Evermore" and "Folklore" too every time she calls the general public "Clowns" or "masqueraders"

It's just everywhere- her subtle devaluation of legitimate criticism. Trying to chalk it all up to the critics being simply dumb, sexist, or malicious in some way. Perhaps some people are mean- true- but to generalize every criticism as evil? That's just her actually playing a victim card. There's no way every single critic, or person who doesn't like her, is evil, bad, or malicious in some way. Okay?

I’m tired of her claiming to be an amazing person and an amazing poet- when she is just not either of those things. She’s not a kind person- it's all over her music in the ways she maliciously hurts people for fun. She’s not an amazing poet either. I have a few college degrees- and one pass through her work, with a serious intention of literary analysis, I discover that her writing is plain, banal, and derivative.

She wants everyone to compare her to Emily Dickinson, Dylan Thomas, and Shakespeare. So, I’m doing what she wants and taking her work seriously enough to critique it. Except that, in critique, I find out why it’s all poorly written- and why it’s just a bunch of thinly veiled conservative iterations of the same boring message over and over. All she ever says in her music is “poor me” and “I hate” (insert person- Kim K., Kanye, Matty, Joe, Jake, John, Scooter, Scott, Harry, Calvin, the media at large, anyone who critiques her, and men in the music industry as a whole). She has the longest list of enemies I think I’ve ever seen- and the funny thing is that all these people avoid her at all costs. None of these people talk about her- yet she is still singing, writing songs, and getting her fans to post memes about how awful they are years, even decades, later.

It all gets a bit tiresome? No? Personally, I don’t wish to live a life full of such self-pity and hatred- so why should I listen to it in music form? Ya know?

In my posts, I am attempting to find the truth. I don’t want to “hate” on anyone or anything- but I am going to seek truth in her work.

I will be posting more about how she devoids Shakespeare of his social reformist efforts. I’m going to post more about how she twists the meaning of every literary reference she’s ever made. I am not kidding, she has misrepresented, and misinterpreted every single literary reference in her entire discography. It’s astounding how hard Swift tries to sound thoughtful- without actually being thoughtful. I will be posting about how she only ever name-drops to either tear other people down or self-depreciate herself in effort to seek pity. I will be talking more about her use of rhetorical appeals to both attract an audience, keep their attention through risk-reward trade-off, and manipulate them into fighting her battles for her. I will be talking about how she upholds a bunch of harmful stereotypes in her music. She often alludes, or blatantly includes allusion to colonialist attitudes. She’s used the LGBT community for profit without making any real activist efforts. She’s leveraged feminism like a weapon against other women- yet never actually has feminist themes in her music. She’s just so painfully hollow- upon closer inspection.

I don’t hate her as a person. I think she’s unethical, sure, but that doesn’t mean I hate her, want her to die, or anything extreme at all. I would never wish harm to another human being. In fact, after seeing a lot of the harmful stuff in her music, especially about her kind of fucked up views on relationships, I sincerely hope she gets some professional help and finds some peace in this world. When I critique Taylor Swift it’s about her work and her brand- It's not about her personhood.

I just think that no one Earth is above reproach, or critique, and we must all be held accountable for our own actions. She’s the one that puts her work out there for people- It's therefore completely appropriate for me to discuss her work.

Edit: Oh and I want to add- I wish you luck in figuring out what you really think about Taylor Swift. If you ever need to talk or vent more- my inbox is always open. :) With peace and love- bye bye

#anti taylor swift #taylor swift criticism #anti swifties #ex swiftie #taylor swift #taylor swift critical #literary theory #literary criticism #pathos #rhetorical appeal #rhetoric #rhetorical situation

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places-people · 4 months

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#I specifically keep actual world events off this blog bc every other social media I use is deeply immersed in it bc of work #what’s happening in g city r is so deeply distressing and the fact that it’s been fucking months of this is so disgusting tho and I’m just.#screaming it’s so fucked #meanwhile they fucking PUT A COMMERCIAL IN THE SB LIKE THATS FUCKING INSANE HOW ARE WE FUCKING PAYING FOR THIS SHIT #like do you fucking know how many staffers as fucking pissed. no one wants to work for him with this policy!! everyone is against it !! it’s #deranged !! it’s insane that his stance has only vaguely shifted around to not liking what’s happening in principle. like. what the fuck !#change actions then!#ok sorry bye I just needed to scream for a second this is back to pretty pictures time #me trying to go to London all fall so I don’t have to swallow my bile and work for the campaign again pls work out

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toytulini · 2 years

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not me thinking about trying to shell out to convert my fiat to a Plug in hybrid? hmmmmm

#toy txt post #ive just started VERY GENTLY looking into this actually bc i uh. have acquired a second car. my grandpa's old car.#it is a tiny fuckin go cart geo from 1992 stick shift and im gonna try to learn stick shift on it but anyway i was like hmm perhaps....i #could learn on that car? what if i did a project? what if i ripped out that tiny little engine and made it into a hybrid or electric?#i found one little DIY blog of someone who converted a very similar car to electric and then back into a hybrid to increase range #so its maybe doable? altho that one was from like 2012 and the hybrid conversion involved?? a propane tank in the trunk?#which. feels not ideal. idk. but then also i found one that looks way more current and legit? they seem to focus on like. fleets of #commercial cars BUT they have a section for consumer cars? it seems to be some kind of kit that they ship out to a qualified mechanic.#which honestly if i can afford it i think i would prefer that bc idk shit about cars and im sure dad could try to teach me but hybrid might #be outside his wheelhouse...hes worried about the weight itll add but like idk? there already are electric fiats same age as mine so #clearly they figured it out for that and that was w the older tech from the 2010s?#but i have no idea what the price is for a professional conversion bc it requires getting an actual Quote from them #and i am not ready for that step yet!!!!! but like. god. next new car i buy i want to be a plug in hybrid i think #that seems like it would be a better choice for how i use a car than a fully ev unless i shell out for one of the real expensive bitches #full of soooo many ''luxury'' features that i will hate so much not to mention how many now standard modern features i despise...ugh #there was one i liked....toyota yaris plug in hybrid....it is....only available in europe and the uk :))) so id have to figure out #purchasing and importing a foreign car without even a test drive unless i want to get on an airplane (aka flying covid tube) and do that #and like i wouldnt mind visiting europe sometime and seeing all my internet friends over there but like i dont want to have to go over for #like. a car. u kno? plus every car that is not My Fiat is bad and wrong and makes me angry and stressed to drive so honestly #idk might as well accept my commitment to it as a future moneypit and make it more eco friendly and save on gas #tho im sure if im charging it at the house ill have to negotiate paying at least part of the electric bill or smth...id love to get some #kind of portable solar charger on it too so im not necessarily just relying on the fossil fuel electricity at my house either? idk. but #that seems hard to find at best and idk like id want to use it while my car is parked jn the parking lot but i suppose there'd be an #increased risk of it getting stolen depending on where i am? idk #part of me is like i should try to professionally convert my fiat to hybrid and then maybe do the geo just ev since im not gonna be takin #that thing long distances anyway? but idk. theres also that little nagging fear about like the fire risk cos i always hear about teslas #with the scary fire shit from that new battery tech and other evs are using that too now to get comparable ranges so like?? are they less #safe? should i be concerned about putting smth like that on an already less safe car from the 90s? or should i just be like well fuck it #this shit is a deathtrap anyway? and then have intrusive thoughts about car fires the entire time im trying to focus on learning stick?#also stick shift fucking stressful. why does it go backwards so fucking fast? what gives?

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ao3commentoftheday · 6 months

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Hey!

This is something that's been rolling around in my head for a while, and I'm wondering if you or any of your followers have experience with getting back into writing after illness.

I've been chronically ill for a long time. My symptoms vary a lot depending on external circumstances. From about 2019-2021 or so, I was updating an AU about once a month and having an absolute blast with it...then my health hit a stumbling block. Then it hit another, and another.

I'm now at a point where the stumbling blocks don't seem to be going away anytime soon. I'm starting to feel the mental health effects of not having the spoons to work writing into my day.

I spent the past couple years trying to let myself lie fallow and be kind with my brain when my body needs so much help. I'm at a point where even when I WANT to write, it feels like it's been so long I've almost forgotten how. I'm stalled on all my WIPs from that AU, but it doesn't feel like writer's block so much as it feels like writer's atrophy. I miss it terribly, but I'm having a lot of trouble getting back on my feet.

Thank you for everything you've given our community over the years! 💜💜

*hugs* that's a rough spot to be in, and I hope that we can offer you some ways to get out of it. I'll offer some suggestions from my own experience with a change in health status, but I'm really hopeful that the rest of the blog have some tips to share as well.

Don't hold yourself up to your previous standards. Your abilities have changed, and you should take that into account. If you used to be able to write for 2 hours and now you can only manage 10 minutes, don't see that as a failure. 10 minutes is now your success point. If you used to be able to manage 100K stories with intricate plots and now you find it a challenge to write a straightforward oneshot? Then finishing that oneshot is an accomplishment to be proud of.

If the way you used to do things doesn't work, don't keep trying to do them that way. If you used to type onto a laptop but now staring at the screen makes you feel exhausted? Try dictating into your phone and using speech to text to transcribe it. Then you can go through and edit what's already there. If you used to write at a desk but now sitting up for long periods wears you out? Try tapping it out on your phone in bed. You can't focus for long periods the way that you used to? Turn on the TV and write during commercial breaks.

Don't try to pick up right where you left off. You need to get yourself back in writing shape before you can take on a story that's already halfway written. Those WIPs will still be there, even if you start off with a ficlet or a missing moment or a post-episode coda etc. Start off small. Use ideas or plots that are easier for you to write. Get back into the swing of it before you try to tackle a big project again.

As you try to write something and you find yourself unable to, take a moment and try to identify what the hard part is. Are you having trouble finding words? Are you in an uncomfortable position? Is the device you're using annoying you or difficult to work with? For each problem you can identify, see if you can find an accommodation for it - and look to see if other people have had to accommodate the same issue before you. It's very likely that they have.

I'll stop here and let the spoonies share their thoughts in the notes. I look forward to picking up some advice for myself too ❤️

You can find this question and answer over on Dreamwidth as well, if you'd like to join the conversation over there.

#asks and answers

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erika-xero · 1 year

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Beware, the long post incoming. Pro tips for artists who work on commissions!

DISCLAIMER: I do not have, like, a HUGE online following and can’t be called a popular or viral artist, but I do have some experience and I’ve been working as a freelance artist for more that five years, so I could share a few tips on how to work with clients with my fellow artists. Scroll down for the short summary!

First of all, you always need to have your Terms of Service written down in a document that is accessible for your potential clients. And by terms of service I don’t mean a set of rules like “I don’t draw mecha, anthro and N/S/F/W”. There is much more into it, than you may think when you first start drawing commissions.

You’ll need to understand how copyright law/author’s rights in your country works (for example, US copyright or Russian author’s rights, be sure to check your local resources). There are a bunch of sites where you can actually read some legal documents (. I know it might be boring, but TRUST me, you WILL need this knowledge if you choose this career path.

Russia, for example, is plagued with shops selling anime merchandise. The merchandise is usually printed somewhere in the basement of the shop and the shop owners literally rip off other people’s intellectual property. If the artist ask them to remove their IP from the shop the owners usually try to fool them with lies about how the IP works. They will tell you, that you have to register copyright on every single drawing and if you don’t do it anyone can reproduce and sell your artwork. In reality, copyright law in most countries simply doesn’t work this way. Once you create an original work and fix it, take a photograph, write a song or blog entry, paint an artwork, you already are the author and the owner. Yes, there are certain procedures of copyright registration, which is only a step to enhance the protection, but you become an author the very moment you create a piece of art, and no one have a right to take your creation from you. Knowing your rights is essential.

Some of your commissioners may try to scam you too, but most of them might simply not be aware of how copyright law works. I literally had people asking me questions whether or not the character I am commissioned to draw becomes MY intellectual property. I literally had to convince the person (who was legit scared, since the commissioned piece was going to be a first image of his character ever created) otherwise. If you have an idea of the character written down or fixed in any other form such as a collage, a sketch, or a concept art -- the character is yours. Artist may have rights to the image they create, but not the character itself. Your potential commissioner must acknowledge that their characters, settings and etc. is still theirs, while your artwork is yours, if your contract doesn’t state otherwise. You can sell the property rights on your artwork to your commissioner if you want, but it is unnecessary for non-commercial commissions. And I strongly advice you to distinguish the non-commercial commissions from commercial ones and set the different pricing for them. Even if you sell ownership of your artwork to your commissioner, you can not sell the authorship. You will always remain an author of your artwork, thus you still have all the author’s rights stated in the legal documents.

Another thing that is absolutely necessary to be stated in your terms of service is information whether (and when) it is possible to get a refund from you. You absolutely have to write it down: no. refunds. for finished. artworks.

You have already invested time and effort to finish an artwork. The job is done and the money is yours. I’ve heard stories of commissioners demanding refund a few months later after the commission was finished and approved by the commissioners, because, quote “I do not want it anymore”. Commissioning an artist doesn’t work this way, artwork is not an item purchased on shein or aliexpress that can be sent back to the seller. It is not a mass production. It is a unique piece of art. Example: My friend once drew a non-commercial commission for a client who tried to use it commercially later on. She contacted him and reminded of the Terms of Service he agreed with, offering him to pay a fee for commercializing the piece instead of taking him to the court or starting a drama. He declined and suddenly demanded a full refund for that commission via Paypal services. My friend contacted the supports and showed them the entire correspondence with that client. She also stated that the invoice he paid included a link to the Terms and Service he had to agree with if he pays that invoid. The money were returned to her.

However, partial refund can be possible at the certain stage of work. For example, the sketch is done, but something goes horribly wrong. Either the client appeared to be a toxic person, or an artist does not have a required skill to finish the job. I suggest you keep the money for the sketch, but refund the rest of the sum. It might be 50/50 like I suggested to my clients before (when I still could work with Paypal), but it really depends on your choise. I suggest not doing a full refund though for many reasons: not only you make yourself vulnerable, but you also might normalize a practice harmful to other artists this way.

The main reason why full refund when the sketch/line-art are done must not be an option is that some clients may commission other artists with lower prices to finish the job. This brings us to the next important point: you absolutely need to forbid your clients from altering, coloring or overpainting your creation or commission other artists to do so. This also protects your artwork from being cropped, changed with Instagram filters or even being edited into a N/S/F/W image. Speaking of which. If you create adult content, you absolutely need to state that to request such a commission, your commissioner must at least be 18/21 years old (depending on your country). And as for the SFW commissions you also have to state that if someone underage commissions an artwork from you it is automatically supposed that they have a parental concern.

There is also a popular way to scam artist via some payment systems, called I-did-not-receive-a-package. Most of the payment systems automatically suppose that you sell goods which have to be physically delivered via postal services. This is why it is important to state (both in the Terms of Service and the payment invoice itself) that what commissioner is about to receive is a digital good.

And the last, but not the least: don’t forget about alterations and changes the commissioner might want to make on the way. Some people do not understand how difficult it may be to make a major change in the artwork when it is almost finished. Always let your commissioners know that all the major changes are only acceptable at early stages: sketch, line-art, basic coloring. Later on, it is only possible to make the minor ones. I prefer to give my commissioner’s this info in private emails along with the WIPs I send, but you can totally state it in your Terms of Service. I do not limit the changes to five or three per commission, but I really do appreciate it when I get all the necessary feedback in time.

To sum this post up, the info essential for your Terms of Service doc is:

- The information on whether or not your commissions are commercial or non-commercial. If they are non-commercial, is there a way to commercialize them? At what cost?

- The information on author’s and commissioner’s rights;

- The information on whether (and when) refunds are possible;

- The prohibition of coloring, cropping, overpainting and other alterations;

- The information on whether or not you provide the commissioner with some physical goods or with digital goods only;

- Don’t forget about your commissioner’s age! If you work with client who is a minor, a parental consern is required. And no n/s/f/w for underage people!

- You may also want to include that you can refuse to work on the commission without explanation in case you encounter a toxic client or feel like it might be some sort of scam.

- I also strongly suggest you work with prepay, either full or 50% of total sum, it usually scares off the scammers. I take my prepay after me and my client agree on a rough doodle of an overall composition.

- I also include the black list of the themes: everyting offensive imaginable (sexism, homophobia, transfobia, racism, for N/S/F/W artists it also might be some certain fetishes and etc). Keep your reputation clean!

- Ban N/F/T and blacklist the commissioners who turn your artworks into them anywayss, don’t be shy <3

These are the things that are absolutely necessary but are so rarely seen in artists’ Terms of Service that it makes me sad. Some of these tips really helped me to avoid scams and misunderstandings. I really hope it helps you all!

#artist's terms of service #terms of service #tips for artists #useful info #useful for artists #art #artist #artworks #artists for hire

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ilovejoo · 1 year

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｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

habits they get from dating you; enhypen

word count: 1.5k warnings: n/a gn!reader a/n: like & reblog & follow for more; new blog here lol THANK U FOR READINGG

heeseung

always looking for you in a crowd to make sure you were doing okay, even if the situation doesn't call for worry

at parties, he can't help but scan the room to look for your familiar eyes. were you doing okay? were you having fun?

when performing while you're in the audience, he looks for your approval in the crowds while also ensuring that you were safe. was his singing as good as the singing he shows you at 3am on the living room couch? were you being trampled by his fans?

this type of habit that he developed is something he really can't help: though he trusts you to take care of yourself, he just wants the best for you.

subconsciously putting food on your plate before he takes his own

this can mean sneaking an extra choco pie into his pocket from a en-o-clock episode site or grilling the meat and placing it on your plate for you during kbbq nights. he grabs the first slice of pizza for you, reaches for the best piece of pie for you, and makes sure you have food to eat before he starts taking and shoving his own food into his mouth, even though everyone knows how much he values eating.

he saves the first, last, and best bites for you. if he knows you like a certain side dish, he'll move his onto your plate.

jay

making meals for two rather than one, or eight rather than the seven of his group

he got so used to cooking for you that even when you aren't there, he finds himself making a bigger meal than he used to out of habit.

two servings of ramen- damn, he only meant to make it for himself, but he added two on accident since two is the amount he makes every time.

whenever he's cooking, naturally he adds a few scoops extra of each ingredient without even thinking; caring for you and making sure you have food to eat is something he does subconsciously.

calling you "my" when talking to other people, as in "my baby," "my y/n," "my darling"

you overheard him talking to jungwon while referring to you as "my y/n," and you felt your heart skip a beat. "my y/n baked me a cupcake the other day!" or "my darling studied all night for their exam, i hope they aren't too tired."

the way you both know that he is yours and you are his is something that incorporated itself into his daily life and daily conversations.

jake

seeing you in every little thing, from the clouds in the sky to his eyes naturally spotting your favorite snack

his members are tired of hearing "oh y/n likes this!" "this looks like y/n!" "this reminds me of when y/n..." jake cannot get you out of his head, he is so down bad for you that every little thing reminds him of you.

somehow he will connect the color of a random car to the time when you went to the movies together and the commercial that played had the same shade of gray somewhere in it. romantic?

saying "i love you" literally every waking moment

when you wake up, in your sleepy eyes and messed up hair, he can't help but express the love he holds for you. seeing you shove a cupcake into your mouth: he's never seen anything more perfect in his life. you scored a 50% on your final exam: it's completely fine!

everything from your strengths to your flaws about you is so perfect, mesmerizing, lovable to him, and so he finds himself saying the words "i love you" every hour, every day. every time he feels grateful to have you in his life, he says a quick "love you," which is much more often than you would think.

sunghoon

playing with your fingers whenever you were next to him

like in iland where often he found himself fidgeting with the hand of the person next to him, your hand is always in his once he mustered the courage to grasp it the first time. rings, fingers, nails, anything on your hands becomes his personal fidget toy: all anxieties gone, all pressures relieved, everything perfectly fine. sometimes he will crack your knuckles, pinch your skin, earning a playful slap on his shoulder from you; the different ways he plays with your hands are endless.

asking questions like "did you sleep well?" or "was the food good?"

is this him being awkward and not knowing what to say to fill up silence, or is this him being a caring boyfriend? neither of you know, but you do know that he still genuinely wants to know in order to check up on you and make sure everything is good. his "did you like the chicken" translates to "i love you and i want everything to be just perfect in your life."

sunoo

attentively studying the hair stylists to learn how to do your hair when he gets back home

whenever his stylist tries something new on him, a different idol from another group, or one of his members and he finds himself particularly liking it, he studies it to the best of his ability to best replicate it when he sees you again. the way the straightener moves, the type of products to use: he memorizes it all.

he will see a certain style and think about how good it would look on you, and how he needs to see it on you asap, so learning from a real professional would be the best way to do it.

saving saturday nights for dates and building his schedule around it every week

"wait, saturday night? i can't, i have plans." he did not have plans.. yet. but! every saturday is saved for you, no matter what. therefore, on the way home, he picked up some face masks and candles for a self care night.

he finds himself saving every single saturday night just for you, no matter what may come up. he loves spending time with you, so having this time together means a lot to him.

jungwon

taking selfies everywhere to send mini updates of literally his entire life

you're his personal diary at this point, with the number of selfies and pictures he takes and sends to you. you thought he takes a lot of pictures for his fans? while that is true, he takes double the amount for you.

he makes up for all the time you guys are apart by updating you on things like his meals, practice ending, going to sleep, his member leaving his sock on his bed, etc. does it get too personal sometimes? yes, but you love it.

watching for your safety whether you are known for your clumsiness or not, his hands always ready to grab you

whether this means walking on the outer side of the sidewalk or hovering over you when you walk down the stairs, your safety is his priority.

when you bend down to grab something, he walks behind you so you feel safe, covered, and nobody bumps into you. when your head is dangerously close to the corner of a table, his hand gravitates between your head and the edge to prevent any potential injuries.

he can't bear to see you hurt or in pain, so he'll do his best for that not to happen.

niki

always sleeping with something by his side, and he can't sleep without the feeling of another presence right next to him

his members have been replaced by you at night sleeping next to him. twiddling with your hair as your eyes began to close, snuggling into that crook in your neck: all flows right into his nightly routine. after a while, he got too used to your warmth that whenever you are absent, he can't fall asleep.

this is where weighted stuffed animals, heated blankets, and such came into play; he really could not sleep without you, or at least a subpar replica of you.

dancing, singing, and trying to look his best whenever you're around to impress you and earn words of praise

"y/n look over here!" he'd do a quick but fancy dance move that he learned in the middle of your living room.

"wait, watch this." he'll play a video of him that heeseung took of him shooting a basketball into the hoop from afar.

"did you see our new performance? wasn't i just so cool in it?" he will say anything to hear praise coming from your lips: of course, he hears it all the time from his fans, but hearing it from you has a different meaning, so he makes sure to always look his best and impress you with all that he does.

he wants to look ultra cool and awesome in front of you, but can you blame him? he's just so in love with you.

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sebscore · 1 year

Note

Hello! Same anon from the charles x sister ask (not the dentist one). I love the recent fic! I cant think of anything specific that I would love to read, maybe just some cute sibling fluff between charles and reader, if not all the siblings? Thanks, you’re doing great!!

A SILVERSTONE WEEKEND | LECLERC BROTHERS

pairings: charles leclerc x sister!reader / lorenzo leclerc x sister!reader / arthur leclerc x sister!reader / pierre gasly x leclerc!reader / ollie bearman x leclerc!reader / isa hernáez x leclerc!reader

warnings: reader is a teenager. mention of flying. swearing.

author's note: thanks for the leclerc!sister resurrection on my blog! I hope you enjoy this fic and let me know what you think of it!

• • • • • • •

Silverstone was the first race of the new racing season the youngest Leclerc sibling attended. Her summer break had just started and a small trip to England seemed the right way to celebrate the end of the school year.

Since her brothers were already in England, she had to travel on her own as her mother had to stay in Monaco for work. It had been an anxious experience, but Lorenzo would pick her up at the airport and right away they would drive to the circuit to watch Arthur's sprint race and Charles' qualifying.

''Did they take care of you on the plane?'' The eldest brother hadn't been too keen on his little sister traveling alone without any kind of chaperone to accompany her.

Y/N nodded her head, handing her suitcase to her brother. ''Yeah, they were very nice to me,'' she eased his worries, ''but can you tell Charles that I'm fine with flying coach? I was the only person sitting in first class, it was embarrassing sitting there all alone.'' She was grateful her brother had gotten her a great seat on the plane, but she found all the luxuries a bit unnecessary.

Lorenzo laughed at words, imagining his sister sitting all alone while stewardesses attend to her every need. ''He wanted to be sure you had people there to help you in case you needed it,'' his hand moved to hold his sister's, ''by the way, at first he wanted to put you on a private plane, so be grateful you got to fly commercial.''

They made their way out of the airport and into his car, on their way to Silverstone. It would take them about an hour to get there, maybe with some extra traffic. ''How did Arthur's qualifying go yesterday? I didn't check it.'' She asked him, after sending their mother a message that she had arrived safely.

''P2, so today he starts P11 and tomorrow he's on the front row.'' Lorenzo answered her, explaining Arthur's starting positions. ''That's great.''

''Have you eaten anything?''

Y/N shook her head. ''No, I woke up too late and didn't have time to eat breakfast, and I didn't eat anything on the plane, because I was scared everything would, uh, come back up again.''

''You still get sick on planes? How many times have you flown now.'' Lorenzo chuckled, surprised his sister still got motion sickness while on planes.

She shrugged her shoulders. ''It's not like I have control over it, Enzo.''

''We'll eat at the track then, they have a lot of good stuff there.''

Eventually, they arrived at the circuit and walked to the Ferrari hospitality. It was Y/N's first time at the British Grand Prix, so she attentively observed the F1 paddock. The oldest and youngest sibling ran into an old family friend, Pierre Gasly. ''Enzo and Little Leclerc.'' He greeted them, hugging Lorenzo and giving Y/N a peck on the cheek.

''It's been a while since I last saw you, Y/N!'' Pierre said, not even being able to recall when he last saw the young girl. ''I know, it's good to see you.''

She was quite close with the Frenchman as their families were. They had been on vacations together and of course she would see him when she came to support Charles. Her brother and the Alpha Tauri driver even used to be in charge of babysitting her when she was still a toddler, although that didn't always go as planned.

''She finally has a break from school.'' Lorenzo explained to him, his arm going around her shoulder. Pierre nodded, forgetting sometimes that the girl still went to school.

He ruffled her hair. ''I have to go, but root for me, alright? I'm still your favorite driver, I hope?'' Pierre joked, referring to the time Y/N had teased Charles by saying that Pierre was her favorite Formula 1 driver.

''Yeah, of course,'' she jokingly rolled her eyes, ''bye, Pierre!'' They bid him goodbye and wished him luck in the qualifying later.

After a few more minutes of walking, they made it to the Ferrari hospitality where they could already see Arthur, Joris, Andrea and Charles waiting for them at one of the tables. As soon as the latter saw his younger sister, he stood up and embraced her in a hug. ''You're finally here.'' Charles sighed.

She smiled up at him and walked around the table greeting everyone else. ''I for sure thought you would step on the wrong plane and get lost.'' Arthur teased her, ruffling her hair like Pierre did earlier.

Y/N took the seat in-between Charles and Arthur, wanting to sit near her brothers as the new environment and people made her a bit uneasy. ''Yeah, you wish I got lost.''

Lorenzo offered to get himself and his sister some food, to which she protested saying that she should at least help him with it. ''No, no! You catch up with everyone, it's no big deal.'' She hesitated, but ultimately gave up and let him go alone.

''Maman send us your grades, they were really good!'' Charles spoke up, the picture of her school results popping into his mind. Y/N nodded, proud of herself for the great results. ''Thank you.''

''She send them to everyone in her contact book.'' Arthur commented, getting a laugh out of everyone. ''I even got a message saying how you had the best results in your class.'' Andrea added, the youngest Leclerc's grades had been the topic of the week.

Charles sat up straight, suddenly remembering something. ''Oh, yeah! We got you something, to congratulate you!'' He rummaged through his bag, pulling out a crumpled white envelope.

He handed it over to his sister, letting his arm hang around the back of her chair. ''It's from your lovely brothers.'' The grins on Arthur and Charles' faces gave her some trust issues about this ''gift''.

''If it's another signed picture of Arthur, I don't want it.'' She pretended to hand the envelope over again. The brothers laughed but shook their heads, that joke had become outdated after the countless times the youngest brother had pulled it. ''It's not that! It's actually something serious this time.'' Arthur assured her, coming across as genuine.

Y/N hesitantly opened the envelope, revealing multiple gift cards for several luxury fashion brands like Chanel, Dior and Versace. She observed the cards with wide eyes, in disbelief her brothers would actually get her a useful gift.

''Oh, thank you so much!'' Her arms first went around Charles, giving him a kiss on the cheek and afterwards doing the same with Arthur.

Bright smiles appeared on the brother's faces, delighted that their baby sister liked their gift. ''You can go shopping with Maman or Charlotte when you're back home.'' Charles suggested. ''Or Carla?'' Arthur added, including his girlfriend.

Lorenzo made it back to their table, holding a plate of pasta for the young girl. ''Oh, you already got your gift! You like it, Chérie?'' It had been a last-minute kind of situation to get her the cards, having to wait whether her grades were good or not.

''Yeah, thank you so much, Enzo!'' Just like before with Charles and Arthur, she gave her oldest brother a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

''Eat up now!''

''Arthur Leclerc crossed the line to take the win!''

Y/N proudly watched her brother take the checkered flag, already making her way to the barricades with her siblings to congratulate him on the victory. Much to her surprise, the first person Arthur ran up to was his sister instead of his engineer or other two brothers.

Normally she would push his sweaty form away, but this time she reciprocated the firm grip he had on her. ''You looked so cool, Thur! It was awesome!'' She practically yelled, not sure how much he could actually hear of it.

Arthur was semi-relieved he had his helmet on, knowing his sister would have teased him for a long time if she had seen the big smile that appeared on his face. He felt a hint of pride in himself as it was the first time Arthur was called ''cool'' by his younger sibling, at least the first time he had heard the words come out of her own mouth.

''Can we get a picture with the four Leclercs?'' One of the photographers asked them, holding his camera up. The three brothers glanced at their sister, knowing she isn't used to getting her picture taken like the rest of them. Y/N slowly nods her head, putting her arm around Charles' waist.

Arthur took a step back, taking off his helmet and balaclava for the photo. ''Do I look fine?'' He asked no one in particular.

''No, but it will do.'' She teased him, resulting in a slap on the arm from him.

The Formula 3 champion of the day wiped some sweat from his face before reaching his arm over his sister's shoulder. The four of them smile for the camera and wait until the photographer gives them a thumbs up.

''Arthur, you stink.'' Y/N tried to take a step away from him, but he pulled her back into him and rubbed his sweaty face all over the top of her hair. ''Ew! Get away from me!'' She pushed him off of her, her disgusted expression amusing her brothers very much.

''Leclerc, get on the podium!''

Y/N couldn't help but take out her phone and film as her brother took the top step, proudly lifting his trophy in the air and spraying the champagne around. She sent the video to their mom, who couldn't have been more delighted for her son's first F3 win of the season.

''Oh, this bitch.'' Y/N mumbled to herself as Arthur was nowhere in sight.

Not too long after his podium ceremony, she had to use the bathroom. Arthur had suggested she used the one at the Prema hospitality as it was the closest one to them. Charles had to go get ready for his own race and Lorenzo joined him, telling the two youngest to meet them at his Ferrari garage.

Arthur said he would wait for her outside the bathroom and that they would go together, since the youngest Leclerc was unfamiliar with the space and their mother would kill the three brothers if they lost her. Yet, no Arthur in sight.

Y/N stood frozen in her place, not wanting to snoop around looking for her brother and potentially walk into the wrong room.

''You okay there?'' A thick British accent interrupted her internal panic, slightly flinching at the sudden appearance of someone.

She turned around and was met with a guy she guessed was around her age, and towered a bit over her. He looked familiar, she just couldn't seem to place him. ''Uh, yeah, uh, my brother- he was supposed to wait for me here and now he's gone…'' She managed to stutter out, feeling nervous under the young man's gaze.

''Arthur was called down by one of the team members to discuss the race, that can take while actually.'' He explained his absence, pointing at one of the rooms where Arthur seemed to be.

Y/N nodded, understanding. ''Ah, wait- you know my brother?'' She frowned, she didn't even tell him it was Arthur she was looking for.

The guy nervously chuckled, realizing she had no idea who he was. ''Yeah, we're teammates! I'm Ollie, Ollie Bearman.''

''Oh my god, of course! You were on the podium as well, congrats.'' Maybe she should start to pay more attention to the jobs of her brothers. ''Sorry, it's the first time I've been to a Grand Prix this year.'' She apologized.

''It's okay, really,'' Ollie brushed it off, ''you need to get somewhere or?''

She nodded her head. ''My brother is racing and I need to get to the Ferrari garage, but I have no idea how I'm supposed to get there.''

''Well if you want I can get you to the F1 paddock? I don't have a special pass, so I can't show you where the garage is, unfortunately.'' He suggested, a soft smile settled on his face.

His offer to help her brought a red blush to her cheeks. ''That would be really sweet, thank you so much.''

''Don't worry about it.'' The walk to the entrance of the F1 paddock hadn't been too long, but long enough so the young pair could get to know each other more.

In the beginning it was a little hard to get the conversation going as this was the first time the two ever met, but soon enough Ollie was sharing stories about his young karting days and his little sister's show jumping. ''My mum didn't want her to do karting.''

Y/N chuckled. ''Mine was the same! My dad always tried to persuade her, but it never worked.'' Pascale had seen the bruises her son's would come home with, there was no way she would let her daughter have the same.

''You've never karted then?''

''I've done it a few times with my brothers, but they always make it into a competition and it's not fun that way.'' She explained, recalling the few times she did go karting and ended up almost being pushed off the track by Charles and Arthur.

''I get that- oh, here we are.'' They had arrived at the entrance, both of them a bit disappointed that they had to part ways already. ''I don't think it should be too hard to find out where the garage is once you're inside.'' He assured her.

''Thanks, Ollie,'' she smiled at him, ''I really appreciate it.''

His face mirrored hers. ''No problem, uh, I'll see you around then?'' He hoped to see more of the Leclerc girl, she was very charming and unlike Arthur had claimed to him and Jak, she seemed greatly intelligent.

''Yes, I'll see you, bye!'' Y/N offered a small wave and turned around to make her way into the paddock, hoping that one way or another she would find her brother's garage.

Ollie's assurance that it wouldn't be too hard to find was the biggest lie she had heard all day. She already doesn't have the best sense of orientation and the large amount of people roaming the paddock, weren't making it any easier.

An idea popped into her head, one that she should have come up with from the beginning.

Phoning up her brothers.

Charles wasn't going to pick up, that was a given. So then she tried Lorenzo whose phone must have either died or put on silent since it didn't even go through. The last option was Arthur and like she thought, that man was never going to answer one of her calls ever. At least they couldn't say that she didn't try.

But someone must have listened to her prayers. ''Y/N?'' A voice next to her pulled her out of her thoughts, a hand laid on her shoulder. ''You okay?''

Y/N glimpsed to her side and saw Isa, Carlos' girlfriend, looking at her with concern in her eyes. ''Oh, I- I can't find my brothers.''

Isa's concerned expression changed to a relieved one, glad nothing too bad had happened to the young girl. ''I know where they are, come on.'' The older woman held out her hand, which Y/N immediately took.

''I haven't seen you since last year! How have you been?'' Her and Isa had met on a few other occasions ever since Carlos became Charles' teammate. She was very fond of her and the Spanish woman always complimented the girl.

''School just ended, so I'm doing really well.'' She nervously grinned, flustered about holding hands with her.

Isa laughed at her words. ''Oh, yeah! Charlotte said something about it, smartest girl of the class?'' She teased, quoting the words her friend had told her.

Turns out that the Ferrari garages hadn't been too far and she had been going the entirely wrong way as she and Isa were already making their way through the halls that would lead to Charles'.

''There you are!'' Lorenzo exclaimed upon noticing his sister walking in with Isa, running up to her and taking her into his arms. ''Thank you so much!'' He told Isa, who brushed it off and bid them goodbye to go support her boyfriend.

A guilty-looking Arthur appeared from behind Lorenzo. ''I'm so sorry! I wasn't away for that long, but when I got back you were already gone.'' He apologized, genuine regret audible in his voice.

''It's fine, Ollie helped me and I ran into Isa as well.'' She wasn't too mad about it, this was one of those things that she could blackmail him with for a long time.

''Ollie? My teammate? He helped you?'' The puzzled expression on Arthur's face caused a chuckle to escape.

Y/N nodded. ''Yeah, he brought me to the paddock! Very nice guy.'' The shy smile that played on her lips wasn't amusing to the youngest Leclerc brother.

''You made sure to thank him, right?'' Lorenzo didn't seem to mind that a young man her age had spent time with her, he was just relieved she had somehow found her way to them. ''Of course, Enzo.''

''What did you even talk about with him?'' Arthur continued asking, confused as to why his teammate wanted to help his sister in the first place.

His sister gave him a glare. ''One more question and I'm telling Maman you left me all alone, alright?'' The protective older brother act didn't suit Arthur at all.

''Let's focus on Charles now, okay? You two have had your moment to shine.'' Lorenzo interrupted.

''Hey! I could have been kidnapped or something!''

''Too bad you weren't- Auw! Enzo, she hit my arm!''

''You deserved it, Arthur.''

#f1 fic #f1 fics #f1 x reader #formula 1 fic #charles leclerc x sister!reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #arthur leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fic

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himbocoups · 2 years

Text

˗ˋˏ YUCK! ˎˊ˗ | 18+ Only (Part One)

synopsis: how can you remain friends with benefits with someone who turns his plushies around during sex, pouts when you don't kiss him goodbye, and spends his time occupying your mind?

pairing: lsm x yn (gn afab)

genre: fluff, romance | m, smut

tags: food, character is drunk in a flashback, cursing, domesticity, fwb, sexual innuendos, university au | car sex, degradation/dumbification, dirty talk, exhibitionism, fingering, games, pet names, switch dk/reader, spitting, pnv, unprotected sex

wc: 7.62k

a/n: some grumpy x sunshine dynamics inspired by my favorite song off charli's crash album. deciding to drop this fic in 2 parts instead of one bc the length of this vs my old laptop is e***** my a**. I literally had to delete the sims 😔 kind of excited and scared bc this is my first fic on this blog so comments are deeply appreciated -nu ♡

yuck! - part two

lipglossjun's masterlist

Bare legs intertwined and arms wrapped around each other, DK brings his head closer to yours so that your noses are only a few centimeters apart. He whispers good morning and gently kisses you on the forehead. However, instead of greeting him back, you decide to ruin an otherwise sweet and heartfelt moment by reaching above your head for the closest thing you can find and slamming it onto his body.

“Stop being cheesy. You can’t ‘Good Morning’ me after sex,” you grumble, turning your body away from his.

DK’s large and deformed bumblebee plush he frequently uses as a backrest bounces off his body and plops onto the cold tiled floor where it joins a menagerie of different plushies and discarded clothing items. DK doesn’t do anything in retaliation and only snuggles into your back, wraps his arm around your side, and pulls you closer to him.

“Fuck aftercare. I’m still horny,” he mumbles into your neck while leaving warm kisses on your shoulder. He moves his right arm to your hips and massages your waist with his thumb, pressing deeply and drawing circles into your skin.

The action is enough to make you think about going another round with him, but the scattered sounds of metal doors opening and closing in the distance tell you that it’s almost time for your morning class. You reach to the side to grab your phone from his nightstand to double-check the time. There’s a text from your friend who lets you know he has your lab coat. There’s a follow-up text from him telling you to stop fucking DK so that you don’t get a grade docked for missing lab. As much as you want to laze in bed with DK, you detangle yourself from him and sit up. He whines at the lack of warmth, but you ignore him and make your way to his private bathroom where your overnight bag hangs on one of the metal door hooks.

You can still hear him whining about his horniness as your hand reaches for the toilet paper roll beside you. Not wanting him to continue complaining, you tell him very loudly that you are peeing. You hope it’s enough to get him to leave you alone. At the same time, you hope your voice doesn’t travel through the bathroom vent duct to the other dormitory restrooms.

His whining stops.

You think he’s starting his usual clean-up routine, plugging in his white shell-shaped socket air freshener – the same linen scented one he bought once and then over and over again simply because you complimented it once in passing. He would pick up all of the fallen stuffed animals he’s collected over the years, probably apologizing to them one by one for dropping them and for having sex in front of them. It’s just who he is, and you never understood how you became friends with someone like him in the first place.

You’re blunt, a no-bullshit kind of person. If Eeyore and Squidward had a baby, that baby would be you. So, usually, people like Dokyeom would piss you off. Dokyeom is the type of person who wakes up as refreshed as the type of people in those instant coffee commercials after they have had their morning cup of dark roast. He’s bright and bubbly and too kind for his own good. He’s stopped many roommate disputes simply by tearing up while listening to his “children” – as he likes to refer to them – argue in front of him. He can’t walk to class without waving at or bumping into somebody he knows. Hanging out with people like DK sucks the energy out of you, but DK's miraculously somehow your friend.

Also, part of you knows you lucked out when you became friends with benefits with a dormitory resident advisor a few months ago. It’s convenient for the both of you – because of his single bed and bath suite, you always have a place to stay if you are still on campus late at night. Both of you two never need to worry about being too loud because his room is basically soundproof. However, that luck also meant having a partner who doesn’t understand his boundaries, has an overtly positive mindset, and treats and takes care of you like you are one of his Freshman residents.

“I swear if I get a UTI…” you mumble to yourself while you lock your phone and place it on the sink counter before you wipe. You make a mental note that you still have a few minutes before you have to head to your morning class or else you would be way too late.

When you leave his bathroom, you see he’s making his bed. The resident advisor is fully dressed and happily fluffs his pillows as if you didn’t use them to stifle his moans while riding him just a few minutes ago – not because he was too loud, but because it was seven in the morning and all you wanted to do was fuck. As you predicted, his stuffed animals are all back in place, including the ones that toppled onto his floor. The air freshener is plugged into the socket with its intensity on the highest setting. His curtains are pulled open, and the calm morning breeze gently brushes against the bright green string of pearls plant sitting on his windowsill. In his trashcan under his desk is the tied and disposed of used condom tastefully covered by empty snack wrappers and dirty lint roller sheets. It’s like he lives a double life – one that only you know and one that only his residents know.

You find a small water bottle and a granola bar on your backpack that you left on his desk chair when you arrived last night. Confused, you point at the items and turn to the man sitting on his bed. There is a big dumb smile plastered on his face despite you looking at him with a blank expression.

“What’s this?” you move the water and snack onto his desk so you can swing your backpack over your shoulder. You lean over his wooden desk to double-check and fix your hair in his table mirror.

“Some snacks,” he sings while reaching over to pull a stuffed animal onto his lap. It’s the one he often hugs when he sleeps alone. “You didn’t eat this morning,” he pouts.

“What did I say about not needing to be taken care of?” You frown while grabbing the water bottle and hesitate while looking at the bar you put on his tidy desk. “I hate granola,” you grumble, but you decide to pocket the bar before leaving.

He grabs the paw of the large brown bear he’s cuddling and uses it to wave goodbye, “Study hard.”

You flip him off before closing his large metal dormitory door behind you. His keypad whirs and clicks its automatic lock into place, and you make your way to the hallway elevators.

With each navy blue carpeted step you take towards the dormitory elevator, the wrapped granola bar crinkles annoyingly in your sweats pocket. The more you’re aware of the crinkling, the louder it rings in your ear – and it’s driving you insane. You hate the awful bright green dormitory doors, the sound of the foil wrapper, and the way DK tries to take care of you when all you want is sex. Sure, you can’t say you’re not attracted to him. You’re not the type to be friends with benefits with somebody you don’t have an emotional connection with. Yet, the man doesn’t even have a car. How can he take care of you if he can’t even drive on the freeway? To you, friends with benefits is like a drive-thru – you enter, you exchange for goods, and you exit. For a man without a car, the concept of his drive-thru just seems abstruse.

Even more annoying is DK’s stupid laminated smiling face stapled onto his large classroom bulletin board. DK’s face stares you down front and center while you wait for the elevator to stop on your floor. Below his face are hand-cut expensive cardstock letters shaped in a wavy curve spelling out A Baa-ginner’s Guide to Sleep. Under the title are several large sheep with sleeping facts glued to their centers that leap across a fence in a green pasture. You doubt anybody really pays attention to his bulletin board, but you quickly read through the facts on each sheep to pass the time while you wait for the elevator to arrive on your floor.

On the right side of the bulletin board is a tiny suggestion box nailed to the wall with a washable marker attached to the side of the box. You decide to uncap the black marker and quickly draw facial hair on DK’s face. You think he wouldn’t mind the hair – it’s nothing compared to the number of phallic pictures he had to erase on the whiteboard on his door the first month of school. If anything, he could wipe it off whenever he wanted. You cap the marker and look at his fresh goatee. The corner of your lips turns upwards and then quickly falls back to its resting position.

Your phone in your other pocket coincidentally buzzes when the elevator dings. You pull out your phone while stepping into the empty elevator and press the elevator button for the first floor. You see it’s a text from DK. He sent you a selfie of him and the same brown bear plush he was cuddling earlier. He wants you to know he’s still horny, but he misses you. A lot.

You sigh and unhook your backpack from your shoulder so you can access the front pocket of your backpack. The elevator stops at the floor below you, and you make your way to the side to let other students onto the elevator.

The weather is finally nice outside after a week of consistent fog and overcast skies, so you thought it would be a great idea to study together under the sun. However, about half an hour into studying, Jun is about twenty chapters into a webcomic on his phone, Chan is busy flicking stray ants off the thin bedsheet, and you are about to resort to using ideas from your 2014 costume party Pinterest board you archived into the depths of hell a few years ago.

“It’s giving either pick me or middle school boy whose entire personality is him being a class clown,” Chan says while laying back down on the makeshift picnic blanket you made from an old yellow bedsheet you pulled from your closet. He crosses his arms under his head for support.

Jun grabs the laptop from Chan’s lap and clicks through the options you’ve opened in your different tabs. He squints his eyes at the screen and winces at every single one while he drags his finger across your touchpad, wishing he never saw your options. He shakes his head and pushes your laptop back to you, immediately going back to scrolling on his phone.

You take back your laptop from Jun and frown while clicking on your different open tabs to peruse your options again. You thought it would be funny if you wore the themed costume you were currently going for, but your friends think it’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever come up with – and you’ve come up with a ton of stupid ideas in the past. But you couldn’t see how this simple costume gives off a “pick me” vibe.

“I just think it’d be funny,” you grumble while closing your current tabs to look for more options.

You’ve noticed that you’ve been hanging out with DK more than usual. Sometimes it wasn’t even to hook up with him. You would stay at his place to study for midterms, and the two of you would often end up having dinner or breakfast together. You’ve been in the dorms for so long that his residents often mistake you for another resident. But it’s true, DK is only a friend – albeit one who’s starting to grow on you – but he’s only a friend. What’s the use in trying to find a costume that he would laugh at anyway?

“What did I tell you? You can’t just be friends with benefits with somebody like DK. People like him want long relationships. They like holding hands while walking. They like sending goodnight texts with a cute moving sticker from a sticker pack they paid for attached to it. They consider taking you home to their parents as a date,” Chan quickly sits up to try to see your laptop screen, but immediately lays back down when his vision gets blurry. He uses it as an excuse to skip the gym today.

“You, on the other hand,” Chan turns to his side so he can see you more clearly, “just want his dick in you.”

The other friend tries to stifle his laughter after hearing the word “dick.” You groan and push Chan’s chest, causing him to fall flat on his back again. Although you have to admit, you don’t disagree with him. Getting dicked down by your friend after meeting up with him to try new dessert places he found on Instagram is an amazing experience. You could taste the remnants of his frozen yogurt flavor on his tongue while he kisses you after eating you out. Visiting new places and hooking up afterward? It’s like an extended BOGO deal that doesn’t seem to have an expiry date.

“You say that like wanting dick is a bad thing,” the other friend, Jun, who swapped his phone for your backpack, opens the front pocket to look for something fun to play with or eat that would better interest him.

He pulls out the granola bar you shoved in your backpack that sat untouched since DK gave it to you. He quickly reads the label to look at the flavor and decides to pocket the bar.

“No,” you tell him when you hear the familiar crinkle of the foil wrapper. You reach over to snatch your backpack and your granola bar back from your friend. “It’s mine,” you emphasized.

“You don’t even like those,” Jun grumbles while leaning his elbow on his knee. He huffs very loudly, making it very obvious he is sad he wasn’t able to take the snack for himself.

You roll your eyes and launch the granola bar straight at his chest. It hits him with a hollow-sounding thunk and lands on his lap. Bullseye.

“Jesus,” Chan exclaims, now sitting up. He points at the poor boy who is rubbing the sore spot on his chest with a smile on his face, “What’s with you and chests?”

You shrug, your face void of any expression. You were more of an arm person.

“But going back to Yn and DK, I honestly don’t see anything wrong with them. They’re just friends who hook up,” Jun, who is completely fine, tears the corner of the foil wrapper and pulls it downwards. He moves the remaining end that covers the sticky bar to the side, revealing the snack that lost its original shape after being tumbled and bumped in your backpack. “My last friends with benefits hated my guts. We had absolutely nothing in common too. I literally had to fuck in silence because if we talked, we would only fight. But it only lasted a while because they were only visiting the area, but damn, I definitely wouldn’t do it again.”

He takes a bite of his granola bar.

“Hate fucking can make you grow stress acne,” he casually adds while his mouth is full.

The two of you turn to him in surprise, never knowing about his revelation despite years of being friends. Jun shrugs, unbothered by your expressions, and continues to snack.

“What? I like getting my dick sucked,” he nonchalantly tells the two of you. A tiny piece of oat flies out of his mouth and onto the blanket. You flick it away before the ants can get to it, but Jun doesn’t seem to notice and continues to talk, “You gotta do what you gotta do.”

Crumbs fall out of his mouth while he speaks with his mouth full. Only after he finishes his sentence does he take time to swallow his mouthful and shove the remainder of the bar into his mouth. He swats the crumbs off the blanket and his clothes and crumples the wrapper, looking around for the nearest trashcan.

His eyes land on a group of people moving carts and setting up for an event in the distance. He could recognize the outfits anywhere from the navy blue polo with the university crest embroidered on the left chest to the regulated sand-colored khakis every worker has to wear. He’s seen someone wear that uniform more often than he would have liked. Every time he complains about how ugly the polyester polos look, his friend who regularly wears the uniform only laughs at him and waves goodbye.

Why would RA’s need to wear sports wick fabric? Jun thinks to himself. Do they get sweaty from doing dormitory checks at midnight?

You notice Jun silently frowning at something in the distance instead of getting up to throw away his trash. You turn your body to look at who he’s frowning at, and you see a bunch of students setting up for some university event later in the afternoon. Your eyes land on a familiar silhouette who carries a clipboard in his left hand while pointing at different places to tell his coworkers where to place the different banners and tables. You know it’s him from the crisp khaki pants he refuses to stain to the way he carries himself – the bounce in his step and the way his open hand always falls onto the shoulder of the person next to him to use as support while he’s laughing.

He’s the same person who’s too kind for his own good. You think about the time you went shopping at the mall with him and how he couldn’t bring himself to decline the offer of getting a free scrub from the skincare kiosk. You had to stare down the man into applying the product on the back of DK’s arm, but even then, DK spent the next week rubbing medical-grade hydrocortisone cream on his rash without complaining. DK still wonders about where the man is every time he visits the mall to this day. On the other hand, you would never admit to secretly taking matters into your own hand by writing angrily worded reviews on their Google page under Chan’s abandoned elementary school email he uses to sign up for free trials.

“You’re drooling for a man in khakis,” Chan suddenly disrupts your thoughts. “Check yourself.”

You blink your eyes and look around you. Jun is already long gone, Jun's trash tossed in a trashcan. Now, he’s leaning against a tree while chatting up a poor girl who wanted to read her novel in peace. The funny thing is, he seems to be doing pretty well.

Chan, who doesn’t want both you and Jun to go to the party with a date, excuses himself so he could leave to annoy and embarrass Jun. He thinks if he has to go to the party alone, then he’s dragging one of you down with him. In this case, it’s Jun.

Your mind wanders back to the costume party. You can’t do a couple’s costume because one, you and DK are not a couple; and two, DK always shows up as a slutty fireman. It was his thing. He would show up to parties already a little tipsy from pregaming. He would hug a liter bottle of chase in one arm and have a coiled prop hose hanging from his shoulder on the opposite side. His firefighter costume would hang from his waist while DK walks around dapping up his friends in a white sleeveless cotton tank with streaks of grey ash. And the drunker he gets, the more lopsided his firefighter helmet sits on his head, eventually falling off when he crashes on the couch.

To Jun, dressing up as a firefighter is probably one of the sluttiest things DK could ever do. The first is respecting women. You’re number six on Jun’s list.

Someone comes up behind you from where you’re sitting and holds a cold water bottle in front of your face. He turns it upside down and quickly flicks it upright so the water inside the bottle whirls around in a whirlpool.

“Water tornado,” DK laughs while twisting open the white cap and handing the plastic bottle to you.

His lame party trick makes you snort. Instead of complaining about already having your own iced water, you gladly accept his water. You put the cap back on and put it on top of your backpack knowing very well that his booth would be selling refreshments for triple its wholesale value.

He sits next to you on the bedsheet that’s slightly damp from touching the grass. He stretches his legs across the blanket and makes himself comfortable by laying on his back. He asks you where Chan and Jun are, and you point at the two of them pushing each other in front of the girl. You stare at them in defeat.

“Poor girl,” he tsks.

He moves his head onto your lap and you hover your hand over his eyes to shield them from the sun. He quietly stares at you while you use your other hand to open your university login page on your laptop, not really paying attention to him.

Just then, someone calls for DK from the event area. DK immediately sits up but accidentally slams his forehead into your palm. You let out a soft laugh, and he playfully glares at you.

How dumb.

“Just saying ‘hi’ to a friend,” he yells back.

A friend.

“Give me a kiss before I leave?”

“No,” you frown at him while looking away. You were trying to get him to go back to work. It also wasn’t like you called him over. Albeit there is a part of you that is the tiniest bit of upset after hearing DK call you his friend so easily. How dumb of you.

He pouts but gently squeezes your shoulder before he jogs back to where he was setting up.

In the distance, Jun and Chan sigh while they pull out their phones to transfer money into the hammock girl’s bank account. Hammock girl bet that he wouldn’t kiss you even if nobody was near the two of you. She was right. Although, the three of them could agree that a shoulder squeeze is just sad.

He giggles when he sees your face contort in disgust after he holds the body wash under your nose, squeezing it gently so you can smell the scent. He takes it back and flips the cap closed before putting it back on the store shelf. He takes the bottle from your hand when it’s your turn to pass him your pick, but he quickly passes it back to you after he smells the scent. He shakes his head “no.”

“You don’t like this one?” you cap the bottle and place it back where it belongs. You thought the scent was fine with you.

“It’s too sweet,” DK reads the label on another product, “I feel like it would attract ants.” He shudders at the idea of a line of ants trailing in his bathroom but continues to swing his shopping basket by his side while he browses the bath products aisle.

You don’t know how DK managed to convince you to drive him to the retail store and help him with his next bulletin board design. You think it’s because he knows you drew the mustache on his face, but he suggested you shop with him for a body wash that you would also prefer using because you’ve been staying over at his place more often. You were going to decline his suggestion, but you remembered you were almost out of trash bags and condoms for your place. Because there were only so many times you could visit the health center free condom bowl without becoming one of their regulars, you agreed to his request.

Yet here you are, trailing closely behind DK under the bright fluorescent store lights where the first bottle on mostly every shelf is just a little crooked. The two of you have spent the last few minutes trying to find a scent that works for both of you. To be honest, you couldn’t care less about the fragrance he chooses, but he insists on finding the perfect one – stressing the “t” in “perfect” to the point where it came out of his mouth in a clicking sound. You were more or less focused on how his bicep bulges the heavier his basket gets – practically drooling when his rolled shirt sleeve pushes up just a little whenever his arm automatically flexes every time he adds an item to his basket. You hope he thinks you’re staying quiet because your nose is congested from smelling all of the products and not because you’ve been staring at his arms the entire time.

He taps you on your shoulder when you’re skimming the ingredient list of a 3-in-1, and you look over to see him smiling widely at you as he holds a slim opaque bottle in his hand.

When you smell the body wash he holds under your nose, you give him a tiny nod in agreement. He immediately caps the bottle, drops it in his basket, and heads toward his next destination. The bottle rolls over in the red basket, and you briefly see the scent name while you trail behind its future owner. Its scent fits the man humming in front of you perfectly, and you can’t deny that you’re quite fond of it yourself. You decide to grab one for your place before catching up to him.

About half an hour later, you’re still staring at his arms while he reaches up the grab the hood of your car trunk to slam it shut after helping load the shopping bags. He seems to notice you staring as he wastes time by looking into his tote bag, pretending to look for something.

You hate him, that little minx. Of course, he knows you’re staring at him. He knows exactly how you’re feeling. He didn’t purposely press against you while reaching up for items on higher shelves for nothing. The t-shirt he’s wearing? It’s a size too small, but by god do you think it fits so tightly and so well around his body.

Between stressing about midterms and working on top of taking classes with a full-time course load, your sex drive has been out of sync with how it used to be. You and DK haven’t had proper sex in a while, and you’ve been caught thinking about sex during geology lab (out of all places). Jun was pretty sure you were harder than all of the rocks on the lab table. If one more sex scenario came into your mind, you were pretty sure a diamond would fall out of you the next time you open your legs.

DK knows how to push your buttons and rile you up – subtly and in multiplicities. But in your favorite retail store? Where you go to de-stress and bask in the free air conditioning? The same one that welcomes you with the scent of fresh buttery popcorn when you walk through its large revolving doors? Leave it to DK to ruin the one good thing you had going for you, but if you’re going to fuck DK in your car, then you are going to make him pay for it in the process.

When you shut your car door, the hanging pine tree shaped air freshener clacks with the acrylic figurine keychain Chan brought back for you when he visited Japan during the winter. DK is sitting in the middle seat in the backseat of your manual, already visibly hard and palming himself. He grabs your hand while you move towards him to straddle his lap. Your knees sink into the cushions on the sides of his thighs, and you grind yourself on his arousal, feeling him grow harder and harder under you – days of pent up stress immediately leaving your body. He places his hands on your hips, guiding your movements, groaning when you find your pace – feeling the pool of arousal between your legs leak onto his crotch.

You grab his chin, thumb stroking the stubble along his jaw. He looks back at you with his big dark eyes, and your head dips so your lips can meet his. Your lips are hard and impatient as yours collides against his over and over – mouths working in tandem as he matches your pace and fervor as you continue to grind against him, digging your hips deeper into him when your back arches. You can’t help but smile against his lips and he moans in response, against your mouth. You fill the tiny opening by taking his bottom lip between your teeth, tugging and running your tongue against his lip.

However, he pulls back to catch his breath. His hands have traveled to your ass, and he asks you in the most innocent tone while kneading them between his fingers, “But what about the cars waiting for us?”

You roll your eyes and verbally scoff at him. You point his chin upwards so he’s looking up at you. He gulps while you stare at him, your eyes burning holes into his eyes. He knows you’re mad. But his dick twitches in excitement just thinking about how you’re going to punish him.

“Don’t play dumb with me fucking slut,” the way you jeer at him sends shivers down his spine. He looks up at you with glassy eyes, staying silent while you continue to berate him. “What? Purposely riling me up and then playing innocent when you think about a car waiting for us?”

He continues to stay silent while his breathing gets harder. He can feel his pre-cum leaking out of his dick, wanting desperately for you to sink down on him.

You tilt his chin to the side so you can whisper in his ear, “I’m going to make them watch you fall apart under me until they forget why they’re waiting for us in the first place. You understand?”

He nods his head quickly, thinking about how hot you look at that moment. You reach down to stroke his arousal with your other hand still secured around his chin. He whimpers at the feeling of your hand around him, eager to do anything you tell him to.

“What was the theme that you came up with for your bulletin board?” you pout at him, faking innocence. Of course you knew his theme. It’s all he’s been talking about since you picked him up from school. The concept is a little abstract, but you don’t push him because it’s not your board in the first place. You remove your hand from his chin and slowly trace it down his chest while looking at him with playful eyes.

“S-Simon says,” he hiccups as you unbutton his pants. He bites his lip when you reach his hard-on.

You see he’s red, hard, and throbbing in the palm of your hand. There’s enough pre-cum to drip down the sides of your fingers. You languidly stroke him, relieving some of the tension built up in his stomach. He hisses in response, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the headrest.

“Simon says to tell me what you’re thinking.”

DK draws in an unsteady breath and groans while you continue stroking him up and down, slowly adding speed. “I’ve been so horny,” he breathes. “I think about you at night. How you’ll kneel in front of me, naked, and in between my legs. How you’ll slowly kiss up my thighs, leaving wet kisses the way I like them while spreading my thighs apart because you always treat me s-so well no matter how b-bad I’ve been,” he babbles while gripping onto your shoulders, anything that he can grip onto his vicinity.

You rub your thumb over his smooth head while he spreads his thighs a little wider in his seat. You feel your core begin to throb when you hear him shamelessly groan, the sound alone stimulating you further. However, you try to keep your composure while he’s literally in the palm of your hand.

“And…” he trails off for a bit, turning his head and not meeting your eyes. You see the tips of his ears glow bright red as he tries to avoid your stare. “I had wet dreams about you spitting in my mouth,” he mumbles while trying to hide from you despite the fact that you’re still sitting on his lap.

The mere thought of spitting into Dokyeom’s mouth continues to feed the flame burning inside of you, so you decide to continue your game with him.

“What was that hmm?” you dip your head so that you’re hovering right above his lips. He has nowhere to turn except to face you. And when he does, you can tell his eyes are frantically darting between your eyes and your lips. You’re close enough to him to feel his breath on your lips, how his breath hitches as you continue to build his high. “What did you want me to do to you?”

He quickly shakes his head and looks up at you as if to tell you he’s being a good boy by playing the game by the rules. You didn’t say “Simon Says” before your last question. You smile and nod at him while slowly pulling your shorts and panties down, placing yourself on top of his dick. He whimpers upon contact.

You trace him along the inside of your soaked folds, and he immediately bucks under your lap. He’s sweating and very close to becoming overstimulated at this point, but he’s surprisingly enjoying it.

“Simon Says to tell you what you want Simon to do to you,” you taunt him calmly. You align him at your entrance while keeping eye contact with him.

“Please...” he mewls, so desperate that he can’t even properly tell you what he wants. It’s frustrating, and he’s frustrated. He throws a mini fit by huffing after pleading.

“Please what?” you kiss along his jawline while he tries rutting up into you. “Did my dumb slut forget how to speak?”

You frown at his action and lift yourself higher so he can’t reach you. You cock an eyebrow at him, trying to get him to tell you want he wants you to do to him. Because, fuck, even you were getting desperate at this point (even though it is mostly your fault for prolonging it for so long).

He finally fesses, “P-Please fuck me so hard that your car ah–”

So caught up with everything, you forget about his size, and loudly moan while you bottom out on him, immediately clinging onto him while you bury your face in his neck. He doesn’t even get to finish his sentence, but he lets out a choked scream as he feels you take all of him so well and so quickly. He feels so tight, so full in you. It reminds you about how much you needed him in you these past few days. He curses under his breath, automatically pulling you into him. He kisses you with so much ardor, running his tongue around yours, that you temporarily forget that you’re only friends.

His large hands find their way to your ass again, sizing you up and guiding it up and down over and over again, making you bounce up and down on him. He groans out loud while he drowns in the feeling of him stretching you open and you clenching tightly around him, hearing the sounds of your ass slapping against his thighs. You feel so good around him, a lot tighter than usual that he has to stop himself from coming immediately. His lips temporarily leave yours with a thin line of saliva still webbed between your mouths when he breaks your kiss. You take the chance to tell him to open his mouth wide, and he quickly obeys. You grab a fistful of his hair and pull it backward. His eyes roll to the back of his head, and you spit on his extended tongue, watching the transparent liquid slowly slide down his tongue. He swallows it and sticks his tongue out again, begging for more.

“Aww,” you coo at him while he tugs on your shirt, a little habit of his when he’s needy but too fucked out to verbally beg. “Dumb baby. Did you forget you’re still being punished?”

You lift yourself from him so that only his tip remains in you. He tries angling his hips so he can be in you again, but you only shake your head at him while trapping his waist between your knees. At this point, he can only whine your name. Your name escapes his mouth in a high-pitched rasp, slowly removing one of his hands from your ass to knead himself. He slowly rolls his balls between his fingers, tugging and releasing the prettiest moans while you watch him slowly get off by himself.

“Fine. Go ahead,” you remove yourself from his lap when you realize what he’s doing. You sit on the seat beside him while you watch him touch himself despite your pussy aching without his touch. “I was going to ask you to choose between me spitting in my dumb whore’s mouth again or ride him to completion, but it seems like he doesn’t need me anymore.”

He pauses what he’s doing to look at you with big glossy eyes. His face is hot and flushed, and you can still smell his musky scent from where you’re sitting. You almost cave when you see him look at you, your heart fluttering a little. No matter how much you love playing with DK, you will have to admit that you have such a soft spot for him. He reaches over to tug your shirt sleeve, but you only shake him off. You can’t allow yourself to swallow your pride no matter how much you want to baby him.

You think he’s going to beg for you to forgive him, but he does the complete opposite. He takes matters into his own hands by leaning over you despite the cramped space. He spreads your legs while he leans in between them.

“What are you doing?” you gulp.

He hovers his hand over your core and looks at you. You immediately nod, and he rubs your nub with his thumb, slowly inserting his ring finger in your cunt. He hooks it at the right spot, immediately making you buck against his hand in response.

“A- Ah. Baby please,” you mewl at him, begging for him to pump his finger. When he only stares at you, enjoying watching you beg underneath him as you fuck yourself on his finger repeatedly, your pride thrown out the window.

“I’m not even moving my finger and I can feel you creaming around it,” he smirks while tapping the inside of you by hooking and unhooking his finger, causing the coil in you to snap as you wail his name while riding out your orgasm.

Now it’s his turn to cock his head in amusement while he watches you desperately cling onto his arm as you continue to come on his single finger. Your eyes are squeezed shut, and your mouth can’t help but hang open while he inserts another long finger into you while you’re trembling under his touch. He continues to rub your nub in figure eights while he slowly scissors your aching and swollen cunt, knowing you’re about to cum again based on how tightly you’re clenched around his fingers, calling out and mindlessly babbling his name over and over again like it’s the only word in your vocabulary.

He feels your juices leak onto his fingers and he pulls them out of you just before your climax hits, holding it up to the large rearview window to see them well-coated with your slick and glistening in the sun. He brings the same fingers into his mouth and licks them clean when he sees a customer walking past the car. He shoves them into your mouth before you can complain, and you close your lips around his fingers, sucking on them and running your tongue around each digit.

“I’m fine with playing Simon Says,” he sighs at you while you continue sucking on his fingers while looking into his eyes. “But if you say you want to fuck me so hard that other people will see, then fucking do it right Yn,” he sneers.

He realigns himself at your entrance, slowly pushing into you. His new angle allows him to drive himself so deep into your cunt that you wail out a choked sob. There are no agonizingly slow strokes as he repeatedly pounds into you, hard, giving you no time to adjust. He ruts himself into you like you’re his toy and grunts while allowing the nastiest words to come out of his mouth, making up for all the time you lost between studying up until that moment. He’s so deep in you that you can feel him in your throat so that you can’t even utter a word, incoherent, as the springs of your car squeak to the rhythm of him relentlessly pounding in you. You’re so cock-drunk that you don’t even notice you’ve came again, this time sopping wet and onto your leather seats. You wail while struggling to keep your lips around his fingers. But they slip out of your mouth with a trail of your saliva and latch around your throat. He’s intoxicating, and you can't seem get him out of your mind.

“Was that too much?” you ask DK while you trace a heart around a plastic stencil he borrowed from the RA from the floor below his.

The two of you are sitting on the white tiled floor of his dormitory room, tracing letters and shapes on the construction paper he picked up at the store. Pop music plays from his laptop speakers, and he has his Pinterest board pulled up on his phone. After much brainstorming and a much-needed shower, the two of you finally came up with a new bulletin theme after scrapping the last one.

“It was the first time you called me ‘baby,’” there is a certain playfulness to his voice.

He proudly holds up the four-leaf clover he made by tracing four hearts on his green construction paper for you to see.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize to him.

Your hand accidentally slips while tracing the figure when DK crawls over to your side to look at your progress, creating a jagged line around the stencil.

“Did that cross the line?” your voice soft yet uneasy. You’re not sure if DK enjoyed the experience in the car. Maybe it was too much, you think to yourself. Maybe, it would’ve been better if you waited until the two of you got to his dorm.

“No…” he sits down on the space next to you and hugs his knees loosely. He thinks about it for a while. “It wasn’t what I expected, but don’t think I hated it,” he confesses while looking at you.

He takes a stray pencil on the floor and fixes the uneven line of the heart that you stenciled. You lean over to pick up his finished clover to compare it to yours. You frown at your crooked stenciled heart, but DK pats your head and reassures you that it’s fine the way it looks. Still, you think you should’ve volunteered to help him type his bulletin board information instead of volunteering to help him do something artistic like stenciling.

“Thanks for helping me with my board today,” he tilts his head to his side while beaming at you. You can smell his new body wash on his skin and the ocean-scented laundry softener beads he uses for his clothes.

It’s your turn to bow your head to avoid his eyes. “I told you I’d help you today,” you mumble while tracing another heart. “And I kind of ruined your original plan.”

“Yn, it’s okay. It didn’t make sense anyway,” he leans over to quickly peck your cheek. He smiles at you and lightly pinches your nose between his thumb and index finger. “Did I ever tell you that you make me the happiest?”

Someone knocks on his door, and he immediately gets up from his spot to greet his resident. You’re left sitting cross-legged on his floor, trying not to make yourself known as the resident advisor talks to the freshman with his door open. You don’t even know why you try to hide yourself. You keep reminding yourself that you’re only his friend and that there’s no shame in being his friend.

But feeling of his lips against your skin lingers a little longer than it should. It’s just a simple peck on your cheek, but it feels like your skin is burning. And for the first time in your life, you don’t complain about his kiss.

###

part two

#seventeen smut #svt smut #dk smut #seokmin smut #dk x reader #seokmin x reader #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #dk imagines #seokmin imagines #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #✏️ ━ himbocoups

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junekissed · 1 year

Text

goodnight moon

member — boyfriend!jun x gn reader genre — fluff word count — 1.1k synopsis — jun comes home from a bad day at work and he just wants to cuddle. warnings — established relationship, pet names (baby, my love), lots of kissing & cuddling, some humor bc it's literally impossible for me to write jun without making him a little silly, they are soo disgustingly in love notes — requested by @rainbowhao on my nsfw blog @onlyhuis! this request was so sweet it only inspired fluffy thoughts so i wrote about it here on my sfw blog instead :) rereading this ask i think i may not have written it like how you wanted akshdgfj v sorry but i hope you still enjoy!

you’re on the couch, scrolling through social media as the tv plays in the background, commercials quietly advertising the latest phone and new fast food restaurants in between episodes of your show.

it’s later than usual, and you yawn, glancing at the time on your phone. your boyfriend often works late, but you always stay up to greet him when he gets home. your job allows you to make your own hours, so on nights like tonight you have no problem staying up a little later so that you can fall asleep at the same time. but that doesn’t mean the late hour makes you any less tired.

you’re just about to get up and get a snack from the kitchen to help keep yourself awake when you hear keys rattle on the other side of the front door, signalling that your boyfriend is home. you look up as he walks in and slips his shoes off, throwing his bag on the counter with a groan.

you turn around, leaning your arms on the back of the couch. “what’s wrong, baby?”

“long day. too much work. tired,” he whines, and you hum sympathetically.

“i didn’t make anything for dinner, but i can now if you want me to,” you say, trying to hold back another yawn as you stand up from the couch.

he shakes his head as he starts to shrug off his jacket. “just wanna go right to sleep,” he pouts. he wraps his arm around your waist and brings you closer, leaning in to give you a quick kiss on the cheek. “i’ll meet you in bed, just… give me a couple minutes.”

you smile and head to the bathroom to wash your face. when you’re done you sit down on your side of the bed, checking your phone one last time before you set it aside for the night.

jun walks in not far behind you, flipping off the light when you give him a thumbs up.

he flops facedown on the bed, bouncing the mattress and wrinkling the comforter as he lands with an ‘oomph!’.

“junnie, you’ll mess up the sheets!” you giggle at him.

he rolls over onto his side, brown hair falling across the pillow. “don’t care. we’ll mess it up anyway.” he reaches out towards you and you yelp as he tugs you across the bed into his side. “c’mere, i wanna cuddle.”

before you can do anything he’s wrapped both his arms around you, holding you tight against his chest with his head in the crook of your neck. he sighs as you immediately melt into him, and his breath is warm on your cheek.

after a moment, you pull on his arms and he whines but loosens his grip, letting you move away. but you don’t move away; instead, you shift around, pushing him to lay on his back so you can crawl on top of him.

once you’re situated laying on him, he puts his arms around you again, rubbing one hand up and down your back in gentle circles. you sit up a little, putting your weight on your elbows as you reach to play with hair, twirling his soft locks between your fingers before moving to massage his scalp.

he sighs and his eyes flutter shut, lips unconsciously parted in a relaxed smile. “feels so good, baby, thank you,” he murmurs. you can practically feel the tension dissolving from his body, and it makes you smile.

he slides one of his hands up beneath your shirt as his fingertips begin to draw shapes on your back, and your skin prickles with goosebumps at his touch.

“let me take care of you,” you say with a smile as you lean down, leaving a feather-light kiss on his lips. “you wanna tell me about your day?” you ask, brushing strands of hair out of his face as he lifts his eyes towards you again.

“don’t wanna talk about work. want you,” he whines, and you giggle at how he clings onto you with his long limbs.

“i’m right here, my love, don’t worry.”

he lifts his chin up, puckering his lips to ask you for another kiss in his own silly way that you love so much. you give him a quick peck, just to tease him, knowing it’s not what he wants.

“babyyy,” he pouts, his brows knitting together as he sticks out his bottom lip.

“what is it, junnie?” you say, unable to hide the grin on your face.

“you’re being so mean to me,” he says dramatically as he continues to pout. “won’t even give me a nice kiss, and after the horrible, awful day i’ve had, too…”

“you’re such a dork, jun,” you say with a roll of your eyes, but you lean back down to kiss him again. this time it’s slower and gentler, his soft lips pressed against yours, drinking each other in.

after a while he pulls away, his eyelids heavy as you kiss his forehead. “love you so much, junnie,” you sigh, running your fingers through his hair.

he smiles lazily. “i love you, too, baby.”

he leans his head back against the pillow and you move away from his face, letting your mouth wander across his skin as you leave little wet kisses all down his neck. he giggles and he complains about how much it tickles, but you know he loves it.

there’s a laziness in the atmosphere as you nip at his collarbones, warm and tender like you have all the time in the world.

he hums and tugs on your arm, bringing you back up so that you’re nose to nose with him. “missed you so much today,” he says, tilting his chin a little to meet your lips.

you smile against his mouth. “i missed you too, baby. love you so much,” you mumble into him as you kiss him again and again.

eventually you rest your head in the space between his shoulder, letting your eyes close as you absently brush your fingertips over the soft skin of his cheek.

you’re so tired and so relaxed that you barely hear jun whisper “goodnight, my love.” but in your half-asleep state you feel your chest warm, your body registering the words even if your mind doesn’t. though you told him you would take care of him, somehow it’s always you who ends up being comforted by him as you drift off to sleep, laying tangled in each others’ arms. and no amount of horrible, awful work days can take him away from you.

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shima-draws · 7 months

Text

POKEMON FUSION GIJINKA ADOPTS 2 ELECTRIC BOOGALOO!!

Just like last time this is an auction! So please read the rules below so you know how to bid <3

Also these are on DeviantART as well! Might be easier to go over there and bid under the comment chain.

Everything is under the cut ;)

RULES

◆ Please make sure you have money before placing a bid! You can’t back out once you’ve bid so please be aware of that. Bid responsibly <3

◆ Going off of that, if you win the auction, payment must be sent within 24 hours. Otherwise, I will release the adopt to the next person in line.

◆ Payment is through PayPal only. If you don’t have a PayPal account and want to buy one of these adopts, I suggest you get one!

◆ The auction will run for 48 hours from the time an adopt is first bid on. In the case of an AB, the auction will end for the specific adopt immediately.

◆ I do not do holds. This is a first come first serve auction.

◆ You will receive the full-sized image without the watermark once payment is confirmed.

◆ I will not give refunds! Once it’s bought, it’s yours!

◆ These adopts are for personal use only. Since they’re based off of Pokemon, I cannot sell them for commercial use.

◆ The design is yours to change/do whatever you’d like with once you purchase it! However, please DO NOT STEAL OR RESELL it. If you didn’t buy the design it’s not yours!

◆ If you buy one and would like to repost the art elsewhere, that’s fine. Just please, if you can, credit me! (This blog specifically if you’re not sure what to credit.)

◆ Using my artwork to train AI is NOT permitted.

SB (Starting bid): $35

MI (Minimum increase): $5

AB (Automatic buy): $100

Shiinotic + Polteageist (SP): OPEN

Roselia + Drampa (RD): OPEN

Togekiss + Xurkitree (TX): OPEN

Cobalion + Volcarona (CV): CLOSED

Ralts + Bewear (RB): CLOSED

Please reply on this post to bid! (I'll also be replying with updates on the bids.)

i.e. RD SB, CV $45, SP AB, etc.

If you have any questions feel free to DM me <3

#Pokemon #Adopts #Adoptables #Auction #Shima arts #OC #Original character #Character art #Gijinka #Pokemon fusion #Pokemon gijinka #shima-draws

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milktei · 11 months

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Woah I'm new here in Tumblr but I'm glad I came across your blog! Not sure if you're accepting requests but thoughts on Angst/Comfort where trust issues comes after Atsumu (or Kageyama 🙇‍♂️) does something that upsets their s/o??

Man of Many Words

Miya Atsumu x gn!Reader

Genre: Angst with some fluff at the end

Warnings: none(?)

Requests: Closed for now :|

not edited

a/n: First of all i’m so sorry this took so long anon but I hope that this somewhat fulfills your request ;-;. Writers block is crazy I was pumping out one shots so easily and then bam I hate everything I write. The ending of this one in particular was difficult for me but i hope it suffices :’). anyways requests are still closed for now but i’m hoping to write something that will help the creative juices flow again

It is well known among Atsumu’s friends and family that he tends to talk. A lot.

It was something you found endearing about him when you first started dating. Whenever you were with Atsumu, awkward silences were few and far between. There was always something he could talk about it.

For the most part you were happy to listen and talk about whatever it was he rambled about that day. His limitless passion was part of why you fell in love with him.

Still, the habit of his had some drawbacks.

“Oh, congratulations by the way!”

You turn your gaze away from the restaurant window and look at your friend in confusion.

“Congratulations on what?”

It was your friend’s turn to look confused, “On the big promotion silly!”

There was a pause as you took in their words. “How do you even know about that?” You spluttered. “I just got the news a couple days ago. I was planning a big announcement and everything.”

“Oh I ran into Atsumu at the grocery store yesterday and he told me!” their gaze softened when they saw the defeated look on your face. “I’m sorry I thought he would’ve told you”

You waved your hands in front of you, “no no it’s not your fault… I’m not very surprised at this point. I was just hoping to wait for all the paperwork to go through before telling anyone.”

“Well if it’s any comfort I’m proud of you y/n.”

The smile you gave them was bittersweet, “thanks.”

———

Needless to say, you were a bit peeved when you got home that day, though your boyfriend didn’t seem to notice.

“Hi babe! how was lunch?” He called from where he sat on the couch.

You stared blankly at the back at his head for a moment, “fine.”

“That’s great! I was thinkin’ for dinner we could order out ya know? This commercial came on and-“

“Why did you tell f/n about the promotion?”

He paused and finally turned to look at you. Taking in your frustrated state, still, he shrugged, “it seemed like a good time.”

You let your bag fall to the ground before fully stepping into the living room “Atsumu I told you that I wanted to wait, it would have only taken another week.”

Now standing up from the couch, the confusion that was evident on Atsumu’s face only served to fuel your anger.

“But this is such exciting news y/n! There’s no time like the present!”

“Atsumu that’s not for you to decide! That was my news to tell!”

“Like you said, you were gonna tell them eventually!” He raised his hands up in surrender, “I’m sorry but you know that this is just how I am! I was just so excited for you I couldn’t help myself.”

You left that fight defeated that night, unable to think of any comeback, because yes, you did know Atsumu. You knew how your life was never your own being with him. You knew the extent of just how stubborn he was and how ignorant he could be to the world around him. Trying to wrap his mind around something could feel like pulling teeth sometimes.

After managing to get through a tense dinner, life went on. You did end up celebrating with your closest friends and family and soon after you began to take on your new responsibilities.

Unfortunately, Atsumu continued to act as if he hadn’t completely crossed a boundary you had set. He continued to talk about your lives with his friends it seemed that you couldn’t go a full week without somebody asking you about something you never told them about.

The pure helplessness you felt that day remained lingering within you as you carried on with work. You found yourself almost dreading going home, and contemplating not telling him anything.

But how could you when everyday without fail he would grace you with that smile, oozing with love and fondness before sweetly asking you, “So how was your day?”

You were in a bit of a mess with yourself, trying to figure out how to get your concerns through his thick skull. The new role you had taken on further adding to the stress you had been feeling. While you loved your job You were both physically and mentally exhausted.

It was only a matter of time before everything became too much.

To the horror of you colleagues, you had ended up fainting at work. You had finally succumbed to everything in your life that had been piling on top of you.

Luckily, it wasn’t long before you regained consciousness, surrounded by your colleagues you sat up and slowly and rubbed the back of your head sheepishly.

At that moment some paramedics had rounded the corner and while you insisted you were completely fine, you allowed them to check you for injuries and give you some fluids, it wasn’t until they were sure you were stable and didn’t need any further help that they left.

As embarrassing as the entire situation was, you were glad that your boss let you have the rest of the day off, it was near the end of your shift anyways. So you grabbed your bag and left, still mortified at what had just transpired.

As you rode the train home, the events leading up to you losing consciousness replayed in your mind, you thought about everything that had led up to that point. How your coworkers reacted. As you sat in the quiet train, your mind still struggled to process what had happened.

Even with your spiralling mind, everything led to one conclusion.

You couldn’t tell Atsumu about what happened, at least not today.

Because you knew him. You knew exactly what would happen.

It would start with the texts from worried friends, calls from both of your families, and end with people mentioning off handedly, “I heard you fainted the other day. How are you feeling?” and you would be left to do damage control as your boyfriend continued to live his carefree life.

You could tell Atsumu “don’t tell anyone this” but you knew better. You knew better than to trust him and his big mouth. How could you have any other option when he’s never proven that he could listen?

So you would stay quiet. Long enough for you to recover from your lingering headache, long enough for you to process everything that had happened and figure out how to prevent it from happening again.

Long enough to be able to finally relax without worrying who you were going to get a text or call from.

Even with your mind made, the universe seemed to laugh down at you, and make life much more difficult for you than it needed to be.

You nearly cursed out loud when you saw his car in the driveway. He was home early too.

You sighed as you slowly unlocked your front door. The sounds of the TV growing louder as you stepped in.

Atsumu turned back and gave you a look of confusion as you took off your shoes. “Hey babe, wasn’t expecting you ‘til later.”

You smiled at him “I could say the same for you.” you slid your feet into your house slippers “I got a lot of work done today and my boss let me go home early, why are you home?”

Atsumu shrugged “Practically the same as you. Been makin’ a lot of progress at practice lately.”

You walked in front of where he sat and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. even with how your relationship had been going, at least this was something you hadn’t lost.

Atsumu wrapped his arms around your waist and looked up at you, “did you eat yet?”

No. I was so busy at work that I kept postponing my break. You thought to yourself bitterly.

“Not yet, I decided that I might as well eat at home if I was leaving early.”

Atsumu hummed, “I haven’t either. We could order something and then watch some movies? Take advantage of our free time.”

You smiled down at him, a relaxed movie day with him was exactly what you needed. “I would like that a lot ‘Tsumu.”

You pulled slightly away and he whined, causing you to laugh softly.

“I’ll go take a shower and you can order whatever you want, ok?”

His pout grew back into the loving smile of his as he nodded, “Can I use your phone? You always have coupons.”

You nodded and he allowed you to fully pull away. Reaching into your bag you pulled out your phone and handed it to him before making your way to your shared bedroom.

It had been maybe 20 minutes of Atsumu scrolling through the various restaurants (he’s very indecisive when it comes to food) before a text from who he recognized as one of your coworkers popped up.

“Hey! Hope your feeling better. We managed to get everything done so there’s no need to worry for your next shift.

Also remember to seek medical attention if anything feels off. I know you were cleared but you hit your head pretty badly.”

He froze as he read the text over and over. He didn’t even realize how much time had passed until you came walking out of your bedroom with a relaxed smile on your face.

“Soo, you decide on a place yet?”

You were met with an extremely uncharacteristic silence, your brows furrowed as you looked at your boyfriend staring intently at your phone.

“Atsumu?”

The next thing you knew, Atsumu flipped the screen to you.

“y/n what is this? Medical attention? Did something happen?”

Your eyes skimmed the message and you froze.

“…O-oh there was a bit of an incident at work that happened before I left. No need to worry!” you tried to wave his hand away and mustered the calmest smile you could.

He looked unconvinced.

“y/n…”

You felt your resolve crumble where you stood. The accusatory look he gave you full of worry, and worse, anger.

You sighed shakily, “ever since the promotion I’ve been finding it hard to find time to really relax so…” you looked away, unable to look him in the eye due to your guilt. “I ended up fainting.”

Atsumu shot up from where he sat, “You passed out?!” his hands frantically grabbed at your shoulders, trying to get you to look at him “You should have told me right away! I could have picked you up! Who knows what would have happened if you fainted again on the subway. I can’t believe you lied, you were just going to keep this from me? Why? Why didn’t you tell me-“

You pushed yourself out of his grip, “Because I didn’t want to!” you huffed, tired of his tirade, “I admit that I was fully content with not telling you.”

His hands dropped from your shoulders and you almost broke at the sight of his crestfallen face “Why?”

You took a deep breath, “I was…scared that you were gonna tell someone.”

There was a moment of tense silence. “You…you could’ve just asked me to not-“

“Could I Atsumu? Could I really? I’m not sure if I believe that, especially after you told me that that’s just who you were and that it was unavoidable.” You paused as you realized you were raising your voice, you looked away in shame. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell. It’s just that sometimes I wish that our business could be our own Atsumu, even for a little bit.”

You took his silence as a cue to keep explaining yourself.

“I needed time today to finally relax for once and process everything. I can’t do that if I have someone new calling me every five minutes to make sure that I’m okay. I want to be able to worry about my own wellbeing, without having to manage other people’s. I can’t do that if you tell everyone you know what’s happening in my life.”

Atsumu’s continued silence began to worry you. “Atsumu?”

Without warning you were pulled into the familiar strong arms that could only belong to your boyfriend.

“I’m sorry y/n.” he mumbled into your hair “I thought I was being supportive. I just love bragging about to to everyone and letting people know how we’re doing. I never really thought about how that would affect you. I’m sorry I made you stress out so much.”

You smiled into his chest and hugged him back “I’m happy that you understand ‘Tsumu. There’s nothing wrong with gushing about me, I just need you to understand my boundaries.”

You felt him nod “I’m sorry again I’ll do my best.”

You could already feel yourself relaxing again into his arms “that’s all I’m asking for Atsumu, thank you.”

You let out a sigh of relief as you held each other. It felt as if a massive weight had been lifted off your shoulders.

The tender moment was interrupted by the sound of a stomach growl. There was a stunned silence before the two of you burst into a fit of laughter.

Atsumu looked down at you with a gaze that filled you with an indescribable warmth, laughter still evident in his face. “How ‘bout we order and finally relax for the night? Just the two of us?”

You smiled fondly up at the man and nodded “Just the two of us.”

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu angst #miya atsumu #atsumu x reader #atsumu angst #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu x y/n #atsumu x you #haikyuu #haikyuu oneshot

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