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#Let's pretend they look good lol
emin-folly · 1 year
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When you show up to work late after barely remembering to put your pants on only to have forgotten to look in a mirror first lol
A commission for my wonderful friend @stewolf7~!! They requested Barry (either comic or CW version) in a bowtie, they left his expression and the rest up to me and so, I decided to shower him with kisses, naturally~
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hiding-in-the-vault · 4 months
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isnt this whole wilbur thing a huge warning sign against getting too attached to ccs, because we can never truly know them? why are we celebrating a few fans putting /150/ dollars + whatever the commission fee for the artist was into a birthday present for a guy who just.. doesnt know them? its not like merch or supporting a creator, its literally money in the wind. between this and merch dropping like clockwork but sapnap being the only one actually doing content (and hes clearly just doing it for the kick quota.. sorry but the streams are so lackluster), im getting really disillusioned with the dream team. theyre literally just coasted by because of a hyperdedicated fanbase they dont really seem to give a shit about. people talk about how amazing and kind they are but are they really? we dont know. why are we monetarily supporting millionaires its literally just charity but for rich people at this point, they dont provide any value in exchange. i think people should really consider why theyd rather drop ~180 dollars on a billboard for a rando instead of charity or buying something they want or need. sorry idk i just feel fed up with how much time and money and love i poured into these guys and in response were getting nothing. sapnap didnt even bother to denounce the abuser he used to interact with. i could have donated and actually helped someone instead of buying a fucking hoodie i cant even wear to school because id get bullied.
I don’t think there’s anything wrong with a little wake up call. They are just some guys that stream and make videos. You’d think the last few Situations™ would teach people to simply not put cc’s on pedestals and expect perfection from them. But you must realize that if you’re going to argue against people giving cc’s money, then you need to go all the way back to every single sub and donation they’ve gotten through twitch as well. It’s always been a luxury some choose to do because they get something out of it. They were never forced or tricked into doing it. And I don’t know how the Sapnap billboard was funded, but I donated to the George b-day billboard. Gave up $5 because I thought it was a fun community idea, and it did not impact my ability to donate or buy things I needed. It doesn’t need to be any more complicated than that. It’s not a streamer's fault that you chose to spend money on them instead of donating.
If you’re upset by the lack of content, then entertain yourself with something else. People have been saying that for ages. If you think their intention is to continue promising content and never delivering just to squeeze money out of fans, then leave. I personally don’t believe that.
Dream believes he does owe us content, but we don’t get to decide when it comes. And you don’t have to give them a dime for it.
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kay9leo · 14 hours
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Mean Girls x Hogwarts Legacy x @myokk 's fanfic
*Ominis: "Gods, Imelda. Can't you give the poor girl a break?"
*Sebastian: "Just Ignore her. It's what we've found works best. I'm Sebastian Sallow and this is Ominis Gaunt. Two people you will actually want to spend time with."
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Sebastian: Now where you sit in the cafeteria is crucial...
...
*Actual lines from the story.
This is for @myokk. You should read her fanfic, Before It Felt Like a Sin. These two drawings were inspired by a scene in chapter 2 that reminded me of this Mean Girls lunch table scene and I had to stop reading after nearly waking the house up at 2 in the morning because Sebastian was so cheeky 😂
Anyhow, I couldn't help myself but to draw this today with these two lines* inspiring me.
Thank you @myokk for giving me a great fanfic for my 2am readings 🥰😁🥰
...
BONUS:
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Trial run of practicing how to draw Eloise. I don't know why she looks so worried. Probably because of some future event I didn't get to yet.
(Also shout out to @tamayula-hl for creating a guide on how to draw Ominis' hair! Made drawing him a whole lot easier! 🥰)
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mumintroll · 2 months
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accidentally spent £23 on clothes :(
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dishsaop · 2 months
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does anyone have recommendations for fictional media that has like. actual lesbians in it. not like supergirl Two White Skinny Girls, One Blonde and One Brunette Kiss media, or "its implied lesbianism!!!" but just regular fucking lesbians
#i say lesbians but i guess i mean sapphic#im just like. tired of gnawing#and of men also. sorry men in my life i love you but on god if i have to pretend one more man is butch just to get#content that isnt m/m or m/f im going to turn into a horse and run into the wilderness until im saved from the glue factory by a plucky#young woman except instead of letting her have her formative summer where she trains me and bonds w me and wins a competition w me#im going to commit horse suicide in front of her & change her life forever. just because im so tired of bland CW-marketable women kissing &#digging for scraps in a refuse bin while brushing aside 7002993829292929939292929399394 gay and het romances#m text#i will also take nonfictional lesbians if its like a story#not to be whiny on main but one of the hardest hurdles i had to jump wasnt realizing i was a lesbian. i came out to myself and to friends a#lesbian multiple times. but i would always walk it back when a friend would express doubt or a male friend would ask me out#bc i dont and especially then didnt know very many lesbians in person. and so i had to turn to examples#and all i fucking had were fictional women who liked men. or fictional lesbians who were so cleaned and sanitized and prettified#(you all know what i mean right. the 2 skinny white girls one blonde one brunette. im not crazy right)#and i would be like. i dont feel things when i look at these fictional lesbians so i guess i belong back here#(this is also bc my gender ended up being fuckier than i realized but shhhhh)#I WAS GOING SOMEWHERE WITH THESE TAGS but theyre too long and im lost.#anyway the point is if people werent so fucking weird abt fictional or onscreen lesbians maybe thered be a lot more people comfortable bein#out as lesbian#like sorry but this awful ouroboros of 'all lesbians onscreen have to be cute and sanitized' meaning that people write and believe wlw has#to be cute and pure and sanitized (OR a 'badge of honor' bc good for u u doodled two women together or had it as a background in ur fic)#meaning that therefore all portrayals of lesbianism continue to be like this. is just#and im also gonna be honest theres probably a lot of good sapphic media im just in the wrong circles to have stumbled into lol. so#yknow. personal viewer bias here#but i still like swing wildly between overly brandishing my dykeness as a badge to feel like im proving im lesbian#and like. backing up under a blanket bc i dont wanna be weird or annoying or freak people out#but if people just Saw Normal Ass Lesbians. aough.#im going to watch revolutionary girl utena one of these days even if i struggled w the writing style the first few episodes#I JUST WANNA SEE AN OLD BUTCH ONSCREEN GET SOME PUSSY.#like it also doesnt help im mostly femme4butch so seeing 2 femmes on screen is like. okay cool so what. but only femmes are 'marketable'
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trans-cuchulainn · 5 months
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hi! we dont know each other but ive stumbled upon your posts in which you describe your anxiety brain and borrowing trouble from the future and i can totally relate to that. and it sounds a lot like ocd, which i know i have... idk if this would be helpful
sometimes i do see things about ocd that i relate to. i think a lot of the underlying thought patterns and fears are probably similar. i don't think i respond to them in the way that somebody with ocd does, though -- i don't experience compulsions and don't find any relief from behaving in certain ways or performing certain rituals, i just experience profound dread and physical discomfort until i'm able to forget about the thing that triggered the anxiety or i move on to something else
my sister has ocd, which i only learned recently (we don't live together and aren't super close), but again, although i see overlap between our experiences, i think we respond to those triggers differently and find different things helpful/harmful. obviously everyone is different so that doesn't rule out the possibility that i'd also have it, but i think it makes it less likely
generally i think my issues are largely attributable to generalised anxiety disorder, some kind of brainweirds (not sure if autistic or have adhd or both), and a solid dose of complex trauma that contributes a fair amount of hypervigilance and fear to the proceedings which make standard anxiety tactics less helpful
i think all mental health diagnoses are labels we give to certain groups of symptoms rather than like. firmly grouped Conditions between which there can be no overlap, though. some aspects of anxiety and ocd are very similar, and some are different -- the same stars in different constellations. i think i score more points in the anxiety chart, so that's where i am for now, but doesn't mean i'm not experiencing some of the same things, if that makes sense (and it also doesn't mean that some coping mechanisms designed for one condition won't work just because i don't think i fit under that label -- sometimes they do)
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jula483 · 1 year
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gmm out of context is my favorite gmm 😂
(x)
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snowflop · 5 months
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I want to be a hater about the cyl results so I'm making my own post so i can bitch in the tags about it. The tags will get long so the tldr is BOOOO everybody but Alfonse.
#man. MAN!!! after all the hexes and curses I tried to set upon her Bern sure did win huh.#like on the one hand i'm impressed on the other i hate her!! i hate her i hate her and I'm tired of pretending I don't!!#when i was playing 3h i could appreciate her good moments in between being insufferable and i liked her alright. she was fine#but like. we're 5 years out from 3h at this point and i'm just fucking sick of her. i don't understand her lasting popularity. i'm tired#Felix... should have been Sylvain.#i like him fine. he grew on me. but he certainly is not one of my enduring favourites from 3h. he fades into obscurity for me.#that said i don't hate him. i'm happy for his fans. you guys worked hard (clearly) deserved i just#i love 3h!! i do! but like. the accident was 5 years ago it's time to let her go.#and out of all the guys in 3h! if it had to be one of them! him? fr? whatever.#i've just never cared for f!robin. i feel nothing looking at her. less then nothing.#so i guess her winning isn't. bad per say. i guess it's a non issue.#that brings us back to MY MAN!!! ALFONSE!! lets goooooooooo#i'm so happy for him. always really liked Alfonse he's so <3<3#i know i don't post about him that much but#it's just that me and feh itself have a tumultuous relationship so i don't see him as much as i'd like >_>#he's the one i'm going to pick and i'm not going to bother rolling for the others#also the fact we have to wait til the 31st for the full results is agonizing#i wanna know if Rein survived. he didn't make ton 20 but i have to know how bad it is#if it's horrible the reason is obvious. he got an alt the week before cyl#can't imagine that'll put him at the top of anybodies list for needing at alt (except mine lol)#but still. at this point i'm just hoping for top 50 orz#snow blogging
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munamania · 2 years
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he reacted to the bereal go best friend!! 🤩
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racingmiku2018 · 7 months
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how do u even begin to get into the meat n potatoes of a deeply inconvenient personal flaw with someone who isnt used to u being a flawed person in their presence
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angelfic · 10 months
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— THE WAY I LOVED YOU
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pairing: theodore nott x reader
summary: in which theodore nott will do anything to get you to go out with him, but you’re just as stubborn rejecting him
warnings: swearing, kissing, dangerous stunts and theo being stupid (ryan gosling in the notebook style), unedited since i wrote this in the middle of the night on no sleep again lol. enemies to lovers if you squint a bit
author’s note: since everyone loves theo i’ll pretend this isn’t just for my own selfish needs <3 (especially the notebook reference) also surprise surprise mc is a gryffindor as always, you’d never know i was a slytherin my bad guys… as always let me know what u think! enjoy, angels 💌
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The first time Theodore Nott asks you out, you spill a pot of ink directly into his lap.
It’s not like you meant to do it. But when there’s a Transfiguration worksheet to be getting on with, the Slytherin boy seated next to you by Professor McGonagall asking you out would surely take anyone by surprise.
The second you twist in your seat to look at him in shock, your arm slides the pot right off the desk and directly onto his grey trousers, instantly staining them with the black liquid before you have a chance to speak.
Your hands fly to your mouth to stifle your gasp and you look up at him, anticipating an angry glare in return. Instead, he looks mildly surprised at the ever-growing stain on his crotch, but mostly… amused?
“A simple ‘no’ would have sufficed, darling,” he says, raising an eyebrow and suppressing a smile.
You begin stuttering out an apology and scrambling for your wand to wave away the stain before you can do something stupid like attempting to rub it off with your sleeve. Your cheeks instantly heat up at the humiliating image now plaguing your mind and you barely contain a sigh of relief when you realise the lesson has finished.
It’s a miracle your shoes haven’t left scuff marks on the ground in a cartoonish trail with the speed at which you leave the classroom. Godric knows why Theo Nott of all people wants to ask you out, but since it can’t possibly be for any good reason, you’d rather not think about it too much. This, however, isn’t helped by Hermione pestering you about why you look so flustered for the entire walk to the Charms classroom.
Twenty minutes later, her attention is finally diverted. On the other hand, it’s because she’s berating you for accidentally burning the end of her left eyebrow off with a charm gone wrong.
The second time Theo asks you out, there are thankfully no ink pots around.
“Hey,” he whispers from behind you, making you jump within an inch of your life despite his low volume. You swivel in your chair to glare at him, incredulous. Seeing that he’s startled you, Theo grins. “Sorry. What are you doing?”
“Baking a cake,” you deadpan, once your heart has started beating at a normal pace again. Holding up your Potions book, you feel the annoyance start to seep in when Theo continues looking at you, undeterred. “What does it look like I’m doing?”
Apparently unfazed by your sarcasm, he drags out the chair next to you and spins it around to sit on it backwards. Settling his arms on top of the backrest, Theo rests his chin on them to look at you. “You never did answer my question.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mumble, eyes scanning the page in front of you but taking in nothing. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to study-”
“Are you going to make me ask you again?” he sighs. You panic a little at his bluntness and continue pretending to read, not knowing what else to do. Theo takes your silence as encouragement and shuffles his chair closer to your own. “Go out with me.”
The arrogance practically drips off his voice, and the pit of anxiety in your stomach immediately turns into irritation instead. “No,” you grit out, slamming your potions book shut to scowl at him. “And I don’t hear you asking anything.”
“Okay,” Theo says slowly, nodding as though he understands. It’s clear that he doesn’t though, because the next words out of his mouth have you stunned. “Please, oh please, will you do me the absolute greatest honour of going out with me?”
”Merlin,” you exhale, pinching the bridge of your nose. Dropping your hands into your lap, you see no solution other than gathering your things to return to the common room. “You’re having me on…”
“I can assure you, I’m not,” Theo says quickly, stopping you from leaving by gently grabbing your elbow. You stop in your movements to catch him looking more unsure than you’ve ever seen, and you’ve never been more perplexed. “I’m completely serious right now. Go out with me?”
“Wh- I don’t even-” you sigh, cutting your senseless muttering off to cross your arms over your textbook. “Whatever happened to a simple ‘no’ sufficing, darling? Aren’t there a million other girls for you to go and pester? Godric knows you’ve got an entourage following you half the- What are you looking at?”
Amazingly, Theo’s expression has lost all trace of vulnerability and now displays a slightly faraway look, his signature lazy grin in full effect. “Sorry, I didn’t hear a word after you called me ‘darling’.”
Resisting the urge to hit him over the head with your textbook, you take a deep breath and grasp the potential weapon tighter in your hands before speaking. “As hard as it is for me to believe that girls actually fall for this rubbish, your history with them shows that they do. Don’t think for a second, I’m going to let you use me like they do.”
Theo considers your words for a few seconds, mulling them over as carefully as though he’s trying to solve a brain teaser. Eventually, he seems to come to a satisfying conclusion, because he tucks his hands into the pockets of his trousers and tilts his head. “So you need me to prove I’m serious about this… and then you’ll say yes?”
“Oh, for the love of-” Huffing, you turn on your heal without saying another word and storm out of the library. Theo doesn’t follow you, allowing you to clear your head and think about the incredibly odd interaction.
You’re climbing through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor common room when you realise you never actually refuted Theo and his theory to make you go out with him. Whether or not it was on purpose, you can’t quite decide.
Over the next few weeks, you start wishing you had stopped Theo before he could start trying to prove himself to you.
You can’t go a single day without the question of going out with him popping up. Much to your bewilderment, it isn’t always him asking. Sometimes it’s his friends, sometimes it’s students at the Gryffindor table who are sick of the multiple owls every morning flocking to your table with a note in their beaks. Sometimes it’s even your friends.
“I mean, really,” Hermione says at breakfast, huffy as always when reprimanding someone. “It’d be benefiting everyone if you just went out with him. Why don’t you, anyway?”
“He’s a Slytherin,” Ron butts in, talking to Hermione as though he’s explaining something to a child. He takes a gigantic bite of his toast before speaking, his next words coming out muffled. “Surely that’s reason enough.”
“No, that isn’t reason enough,” Hermione says sternly, furrowing her brows. “A good reason would have been all the girls he’s always with. Of course, that’s flown out the window recently. He’s also never given them as much attention now that I think about it.”
“He’s definitely not the worst of the group either,” Harry adds, leaning in as nosily as Ron. “Not like we’re talking about Malfoy…”
“Don’t you two have Quidditch tactics to be discussing?” you snap, exhausted by the subject already. The two boys hold up their hands in surrender, before shuffling down the bench. Whether that’s to be closer to the Quidditch team, or to get away from you before you start throwing hexes - you aren’t certain.
The fact you’re awake early in the morning on a Saturday isn’t helping your sour mood, and the Quidditch match being between Gryffindor and Slytherin only adds to this.
“We’d better go and get a good seat at the front, so we aren’t on our tiptoes for the whole game like last time,” Hermione says, already sliding off the bench. You give your cup of coffee one last longing look before you allow yourself to be dragged away.
You haven’t even made it onto the Quidditch pitch before you’re already wishing for that cup of coffee to give you strength, because you find none other than Theo standing outside the Great Hall in his green and silver Quidditch robes.
As soon as he spots you, Theo plasters on that charming smile of his and opens his mouth, no doubt to ask you if you could talk privately.
Hermione interjects before he gets the chance. “Don’t bother, I’m leaving.” She simply sighs when you look at her, betrayed. “He’d have convinced you anyway! I’ll save you a seat.”
You watch her leave, helplessly before turning to Theo and crossing your arms. “Yes?”
“I have a proposition for you,” he says simply, getting to the point. The proposition has, without a doubt, got something to do with you and him and a trip to Hogsmeade, but you gesture for him to continue nonetheless. You can’t deny it’s been entertaining watching Theo come up with new ways to ask you out these past few weeks. “I’ll throw the match and let your lot win if you go out with me.”
This startles a laugh out of you, something between a chortle and a gasp. “Oh, you cheeky bastard,” you exclaim, but you can’t help grinning. That was quite possibly the last thing you expected him to say. “First of all, I think my lot is perfectly capable of winning on their own. And secondly… as funny as it would be, I’d rather not have your death and Malfoy’s subsequent imprisonment in Azkaban be on my conscience.”
You only realise just how wide your smile is when it starts to fade under Theo’s unwavering gaze. His lips twitch up into a smile and you immediately frown as an automatic response. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“You’re bantering with me,” Theo says, grinning as though he’s extremely pleased with himself. You realise with a jolt, that yes you were bantering. “One step closer to agreeing to go out with me.”
“That’s not happening,” you protest, but it sounds fairly weak, even to you. “Like I keep telling you, I’m not going to be one of those girls.”
Theo shrugs. “And I think you already know you’re not one of those girls. It’s fine, I can wait.”
The relaxed manner in which he says this has you flabbergasted to say the least. Truthfully, you aren’t completely sure why you haven’t just agreed at this point. No one in the whole school is used to witnessing such extravagant displays from Theodore Nott, so you’ve accepted the fact you’re an outlier in this particular subject area. You’re starting to think Hermione’s right, and it’s pure stubbornness that’s keeping you going.
“You’ll be waiting a long time then,” you say, giving Theo a bland smile.
“Nah,” is all he says, the smile still gracing his unperturbed face. “Keep an eye out for me in the Quidditch stands.”
Theo winks at you before walking away in the direction of the pitch and you linger in the castle for a good few minutes before snapping out of it and walking in the same direction.
You find Hermione quickly at the front of the Gryffindor stand and you’re about to ask how long until the game starts when Lee Jordan’s voice begins to boom from the commentator stand.
“Strong start for Gryffindor with Katie Bell taking the Quaffle and- nope, Vaisey’s taken it and passed it onto Urquhart, his fellow Chaser and the new Slytherin captain.” You’re thankful for Lee’s commentary as it’s easy to follow and you probably wouldn’t have a clue if it weren’t for him. Surprisingly, he keeps it professional enough for a while. “Ginny Weasley tries to take the Quaffle after a near hit there to Urquhart, thanks to new Gryffindor Beater Jimmy Peakes and that very solid Bludger over there. Unfortunately, he missed-”
“JORDAN.”
“Sorry, Professor McGonagall, I meant fortunately. Slytherin Chaser Mattheo Riddle now has the Quaffle and seems to be aiming to score and- oops! He’s missed, thanks to Gryffindor Keeper Ron Weasley. Good on you, Weasley,” Lee says, unable to be impartial as shown by McGonagall’s glare. “As for the Slytherin Keeper, Nott seems to be distracted by something in the Gryffindor stands. Or should I say someone.”
Laughter echoes in every stand, much to your utter humiliation and some people even start whooping and cheering in your direction. Theo’s antics are common knowledge at this point, but it doesn’t make the laughter any less embarrassing. You try and maintain a shred of dignity by standing still and glaring as hard as you can at Theo. Horrifyingly, he starts to fly in your direction.
Lee looks at McGonagall before speaking, but she merely shrugs helplessly, looking flustered herself. “Er, well it seems Slytherin are open for Gryffindor to score. No one seems to be taking advantage, however, as I think I can speak for everyone when I say we want to know what’s going on with Nott and Y/N.”
Glancing at the others, you realise Lee is right and all the players are hovering in place, making no move to continue the game. They look partly confused, but mostly nosy.
Theo stops just outside the Gryffindor stand, his attention focused wholly on you. You raise both eyebrows in question, waiting for him to speak. “Go out with me.”
“Unfortunately, I can’t quite hear what Nott is saying, but I think we can all guess he’s asking her out again,” Lee says, causing a few more cheers and even a couple groans. “Take the hint, mate.”
“Theo, get back to the game!” you hiss, wrapping your arms around you as if it’ll shield you from everyone’s eyes. “You’re embarrassing m- What the fuck are you doing!”
Theo swings a leg over the side of his broomstick so that he’s sitting completely facing you, legs dangling dangerously off one side. Lee sits up a little in his booth and McGonagall looks positively horrified. “For unknown reasons, Nott is balancing precariously in a position no Quidditch player wants to- Merlin, he’s hanging off his broomstick!”
Everyone in the crowd screams and shouts when Theo slips off his broomstick, but they quieten down and watch with fright when they see he’s still holding on with both hands. You think you’re going to faint.
“Theo,” you plead, with the same voice you’d use to coax a bloody kitten out of a tree. “Get back on your broomstick. Please.”
“Only if you go out with me,” Theo says, eyes determined despite breathing a little heavier. The broomstick is thin and despite his strength, it’d be hard for anyone to maintain a grip for long. “Say you’ll go out with me and I’ll get back on.”
“Just say it!” Hermione grabs you by the shoulder to shake you.
Professor McGonagall seems to have shaken out of her previous daze and begins scrambling around for her wand while Lee narrows his eyes to better assess the situation. “Godric, Y/N. Just say ‘yes’ and end everyone’s misery already.”
“But…” you trail off, hands shaking as you keep your eyes on Theo’s white knuckles still gripping the broom. “I don’t want to encourage this stupid behaviour.”
Theo rolls his eyes as though he can’t believe you’re still objecting. He shakes his head at you, though his chest is shaking with laughter. “Go out with me, and I swear I’ll never do anything stupid again. Fucking hell, I’ll quit Quidditch altogether if you want.”
You open your mouth to say something, you’re not sure what, but before you can get a word out, Seamus Finnigan pipes up from beside you. “Personally, I say let him fall off the bloody thing.”
Tutting, you turn to Theo just to find the idiot raising an eyebrow challengingly. His left hand begins to loosen on the broomstick, deliberately.
“Theo, don’t you dare.”
He drops his left hand completely and you scream, the noise drowned out by everyone else’s yells.
“OKAY!” you yelp, heart in throat as you watch Theo dangling from his broomstick with one hand, clearly struggling. “Okay, I’ll go out with you, you stubborn idiot!”
The Gryffindors that hear you, begin to cheer, setting off the other houses and once McGonagall sees Theo begin to pull himself up on his broomstick, she visibly relaxes, slumping in her seat as she clutches her chest. Lee soon gets the message. “Finally, after a good month of watching Nott pine pathetically, Y/N has agreed to go out with the poor bast- Er, beggar. Sorry, Professor. By the way Nott, you’ve got detention for a week.”
Now sitting normally on his broomstick, Theo grins at you like the cheeky bastard that he is, with elation clear as day on his face. You struggle to fight off your own grin and you can tell by his expression you’re not doing a very good job at it. “Pull something like that again and I’ll push you off your broomstick myself,” you warn him, though it lacks any real threat. You were more worried than angry, and it definitely shows. “Okay?”
“No more stupid behaviour,” Theo promises, sounding sincere as he nods, messy hair falling into his eyes. The wind blows it out of the way almost immediately and you find yourself wanting to do it with your fingers. “After this, though.”
You furrow your brows as Theo flies close enough to the Gryffindor stand to get off his broomstick and hop right into the crowd, landing next to you. Broomstick in hand, Theo doesn’t take his eyes off you when he holds it out to Hermione. “If you don’t mind, Granger.”
Clearly baffled, Hermione gingerly takes the broomstick from him and watches the two of you, as enraptured as the rest of the school.
You face Theo properly, looking up at his eyes to see them glittering with pride and achievement. You tilt your head in question, wondering why he hasn’t yet returned to the game.
Theo answers you by gripping your waist to pull you into a stupidly dramatic, dizzying, wonderful kiss. His lips are soft against your own and cold from the wind, but the shiver that runs down your spine has nothing to do with the temperature and everything to do with the way Theo is pressed against you.
You could go on forever, but the cheers and claps and hollering around you remind you that you’re surrounded by all your peers and, Godric, your teachers.
Pulling away, you clear your throat and attempt to gain back some of your dignity by keeping a serious face. Theo attempts nothing of the sort as he’s still wearing a silly grin. You try and avoid his eyes for the sake of your nerves and you mutter the first thing that comes to mind. “Erm, good luck then. I hope you win.”
This is the wrong thing to say surrounded by your fellow Gryffindors as a few of them boo at you.
Theo rolls his eyes at the dramatics, while you simply scowl, pointedly at Seamus who seems to have boo’ed the loudest. Hermione is beaming at you when she hands Theo back his broomstick, though she also gives a little frown directed at Seamus.
Getting back on his broomstick, Theo hovers near you outside the stand. You lower your voice to a whisper that only he can hear. “I still hope you win.”
Theo shrugs, looking more relaxed than you’ve ever seen him during a Quidditch game. “I’ve already won, darling.”
© angelfic 2023.
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jirachuuu · 11 months
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A lil family 👨‍👩‍👦🫶🏼
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osaemu · 7 months
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GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ FINDERS KEEPERS, LOSERS WEEPERS! ❜❜
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.ೃ࿐ streamer!au: the user "gojoslittleslut" tries to make a move on your boyfriend, but she doesn't stand a chance
contents: fem!reader. it's not too serious, nobody gets angry/jealous (except the comments lol). if u haven't already read the other streamer!gojo works u probably should so u understand the dynamic between satoru and his commenters !
author's note: reader is actually a mature person who doesn't pick fights with random ppl on the internet and i think we should all be more like her ꨄ︎
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satoru leans back in his chair, idly chatting with people who pop up in his comments after he finishes his last round of the co-op game. his viewers are eager to chat, and some even shoot money satoru's way to draw his attention. whenever someone donates money, he gives them a quick shoutout and has a small back-and-forth with them, and he does that for everyone.
that is, until a user with a questionable username donates to his stream.
gojoslittleslut has donated $100.00!
gojoslittleslut: notice me pls
"shit, a hundred dollars?" satoru says, raising his eyebrows in mild surprise. "thanks, gojoslittl— oh, fuck, what is that?"
you look up from your laptop and see the way your boyfriend's cheeks have gone bright red. satoru laughs a bit nervously, so you get up and walk over, making sure to stay out of sight of the camera. you sit on satoru's desk beside his computer and peer at his screen curiously.
gojoslittleslut: im ur number one fan~
satoru's eyes flicker to yours for a second before he looks back at his monitor. "ah, well, thanks for the donation!" he replies, completely ignoring the user's advances.
suguru-geto: he has a gf ...
gojoslittleslut: yeah
gojoslittleslut: me
you cover your mouth to suppress a giggle, scrunching up your nose at satoru to let him know that you really weren't taking it too seriously. after all, it's just some random person on the internet—they don't stand a chance with your boyfriend. 
satoru reaches over and takes your hand, twining his fingers with yours off-camera. he ignores the sudden burst of comments that litter the corner of his screen, instead watching you intently. in response, you roll your eyes playfully and blow him a kiss, snickering when satoru pretends to faint.
eventually, he turns back to his screen, cerulean eyes doing a quick once-over of his new comments.
toji-fushiguro: ill take his gf any day
inumaki: we know gtfo
gojoslittleslut: toji i get gojo and u take his girl. deal?
toji-fushiguro: bet
"alright guys, settle down," satoru huffs, rolling his eyes. "for the record, i still have a girlfriend and i don't plan on changing that anytime soon," he clarifies, addressing the current feud going on in his comments. 
satoru's a good streamer—he does his best to keep things cordial and lighthearted with his audience, but he also knows his limits. one of his limits involves people trying to separate you and him, his one true pairing (of course satoru's otp is his own relationship).
your boyfriend leans closer to the screen and scowls good-naturedly, holding up the hand still wrapped around yours. "this isn't gonna change, so don't even think about it!"
satoru says his goodbyes and then ends the stream, turning to you with a sigh. "how down bad do you have to be to name yourself 'gojo's little slut?'" he grumbles, clicking through his stream analytics and finding the user. he opens gojoslittleslut's profile and studies it for a moment before hovering his mouse over the block button.
he leans back in his chair and tilting his chin up at you. "she just gave me a hundred dollars, so i kinda feel bad about blocking her," satoru muses, tapping his foot on the floor. he looks up at where you still sit on his desk, twirling a strand of hair around your finger. "c'mere," he mumbles, slipping his hands around your waist and hoisting you into his lap with a soft grunt.
satoru rests his chin on your shoulder and nudges his face into your neck, breath tickling your skin. "you know that i'm all yours, right?"
"of course i do," you murmur, settling into his arms. he's warm and comfortable, like always. satoru smiles warmly and kisses the side of your face, letting his lips linger.
"good. 'cause no fan account's ever gonna change that."
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mysicklove · 5 months
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CW: reader sucking nanamis dick lol, me playing up nanamis old manness bc i am picturing him as a middle aged man, no power dynamics, nanami cums on your face n realizes he may have a kink, reader is ":3" coded, unedited for now bc i need sleep
a/n: wrote this cause im down bad. not written well tho LOL
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"Are you sure you like this? I dont want your jaw to hurt..." Nanami questions, furrowed browed as he gently traces the skin near your temple.
You were kneeling in front of him, hands placed on his thighs and grinning at him. "I want to. I really, really want to. Been thinking about it all day."
"You are quite eager."
"Arent you?" Your eyes trail to cock in your hand, completely hard and flushing a shade of red. His work attire was still on, and you just unbuttoned his pants enough so that only his dick was free. You had a thing for the work attire - you couldnt help it, he looked incredibly good in a suit.
In return, Nanami just rubs at his mouth, not denying it. Then he pets your hair, settling in his chair. "Okay, but I wont be mad if you grow uncomfortable."
You rolls your eyes at him, pressing your cheek against his cock. "You coddle me too much. I will not die from sucking dick, Kento."
He stays quiet at this, just silently brushing your hair back into his palms, holding it away from your face. It was polite, all things considering. You smile at him, while your tongue drags from the base of his cock to the tip.
You continue to prep yourself, licking and gently kissing the shaft, while Nanami watches in silence. Then, you put your mouth over him and begin to suckle the tip. A sigh is let out from the man, and he resists the urge to shut his eyes, wanting to watch the lewd sight.
Your head find a steady motion - bobbing up and down until you gag and pull off. He pretends that the sound doesnt turn him on, feeling bad that something uncomfortable for you sends blood rushing to his groin.
When you pull away, slightly panting, he rubs at your lips, now coated in saliva. "Are you okay?"
"You're doing it again, Kento. I am not a child - I've sucked other mens dick before."
He blinks at this, before frowning and forcing you back on his cock by your hair. But, when he heard your giggles from below, he realized quickly that you only said that to tease him. He sighs at that, shaking his head. "Do you like making me upset?"
You hum around his cock, letting drool purposefully fall from your mouth and down till it reached his balls - it was always bettter when it was sloppier, or so you have heard. But, you pull away quickly to answer him, tilting your head to the side so that you can continue to lick his shaft.
"Kinda fun to - you get this look in your eyes. Its weirdly sexy seeing you mad."
His non dominant hand goes back to caressing the skin on your face and his eyes soften. "I would never actually be mad at you."
You make eyecontact with him as you stick your tongue out and swirl it around the redden tip, ignoring the salty taste of pre. Then you give the head another kiss, pressing your nose against it. "I know. You're too soft around me. Its cute, I dont mind it."
"I'm glad," he breathes, and then he pauses, gulping, and looking away, "Then if you dont mind, can you go a little farther down? If its not too uncomfortable, of course."
You obey with little hesistation, mouth coming closer to the dark patch of hair on his lower abdomen. This time he groans out, and cant help but shut his eyes at the warm feeling of your throat. You try your best to focus, but seeing your lovers face contort with pleasure was too pretty to not watch.
His hips move from his chair, slightly bucking into your mouth like he couldnt control them. It makes a lewd noise in the back of your throat, and he groans hearing it. You continue your movements, and with each moment, his cock gets wetter from the amount of saliva coated on it.
Large, callused finger tips run over your neck, feeling the way his dick creates a small bulge, and he lets out a shaky breathe. "Fuck. Wow, you are something. Doing so well, thank you, thank you, fuck."
Tears are beggining to prick at your eyes from the lack of air, but still you try your best to nod at him, even if the action sends him groaning out again.
He was growing overheated from the whole thing, and you watch as he removes his tie and unbuttons the top part of his shirt. The sight makes you slightly moan, and it sends a vibration up Nanami's spine.
When you pull away for another breathe, he lets out a noise close to a whine, and you hold back a chuckle. "Looks whose the one eager now." You tease, and his cheeks pinken slightly as he looks away.
"You really treat me so well."
"You think I am good at sucking dick?"
A lewd way to put it, and Nanami wouldnt phrase it like that, but alas, he nods his head, before guiding you back onto his cock. You in return laugh, and immediately go back to work.
With each bob of your head, he gets more into it, now slightly pushing you down farther by your hair. You don't mind it, and Nanami begins to pant from the pleasure, deep and breathlessly. The sound only spurs you on.
It doesnt take much longer for his abdomen to tighten up, and the feeling of his orgasm to approach. You could tell he was close to coming, even without a warning from the way his grunts seem to grow louder. So you continue your pace, trying your best to hold out without a breathe until he cums down your throat.
But, to much of your suprise, he pulls you off from him by your hair. You try to protest, wanting him to cum in your mouth, but he simply grabs at his cock with his other hand and pumps it a couple of times before aiming it at your face.
Cum shoots out of the wet head, and you are forced to shut one of your eyes as the white liquid lands on your upper cheek and eyelid. The rest lands on a multitude of places on your face, causing you to squint your one opened eye. He groans the entirity of it, and so you let him cum all over your face, finding the noise cute.
But when he is done, you simply wipe off your eyes, leaving the rest for now, and blink up at him with a small frown. "You know it would be alot cleaner if you would have came down my throat."
Nanami just stares at you, eyes scanning your face. Then, you notice the tint of red that danced on his cheeks and ears. Your face lights up at the realization. "I knew you had some sort of kink. You're not as vanilla as I thought, Kento! Who would have thought cumming on my face would do it for you."
"You just look...so pretty like this." A laugh falls from your lips, as your eyes travel back to his cock that was beginning to harden again. Now, it was time for the real deal - you almost squeal in excitement as you drag him to the bedroom.
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roosterr · 5 months
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if ur requests are open, could we have like 141 falling asleep on the reader??? like different scenarios for each of them like price falls asleep accidentally and so does ghost while gaz and soap are like cuddling or laying on the reader :) i love ur writing so much <333
the 141 falls asleep on you
wc: 2.1k
hello!!! been struggling to love my writing for like the last month so i really hope you enjoy, and i'm sorry in advance lol its mostly fluffy but i just couldn't help myself with a lil bit of angst :)
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price
✹ when you hear the front door open in the middle of the night – or, technically, early morning – the first thought your sleep-addled mind comes up with is that you're being robbed.
✹ with your heart in your throat, you sit up in bed and stare wide-eyed at the bedroom door, but your fear is short lived when a dull thud meets your ears, followed by a familiar curse that has you breathing a sigh of relief.
✹ your husband, coming home at last from a night of drinking with the other members of the taskforce, presumably stubbing his toe on the sofa that hasn't moved an inch since you put it there all those years ago.
✹ with a deep yawn, you get back under the covers and let your eyes fall shut again, the knowledge that it was john downstairs and not a burglar putting your racing heart to rest.
✹ you don't react when he clumsily slips through the door, fighting the laugh that threatens to give you away when you hear him swear under his breath after bumping into yet another piece of furniture.
✹ the cold air sends goosebumps rippling across your skin when he lifts the covers to clamber in beside you, but the chill is quickly chased away by his hands bringing you into his chest and his enveloping warmth.
✹ "and what time do you call this?" you tease in a whisper, opening your eyes to see his guilty ones looking back at you. the slight flush in his cheeks and his half-lidded gaze gives him a boyish charm that you can't even pretend to be mad at.
✹ "sorry darlin', didn't mean to wake you..." he murmurs in return, a sheepish smile pulling at one side of his lips.
✹ "well, i'm glad you had a good time," you punctuate your reply by placing a light kiss on the bridge of his nose, which prompts his smile to grow wider as he hugs your body to his own.
✹ "i'm havin' a better time now, love." he ghosts his lips over yours as he whispers, earning another tiny chuckle from you, his fingers tracing patterns into the skin of your back under your shirt.
✹ you can smell the whisky on his breath as he leans even further into you, and taste it when he closes the distance to devour your lips in a passionate, if slightly messy, kiss.
✹ he sighs into your mouth, his lips falling from yours when he rolls you onto your back to lay his head on your chest, and like a switch, he's dead asleep.
✹ "john?" you whisper, in a sort of disbelief that he was actually asleep just like that, but he doesn't even flinch when you gently poke his cheek. "oh my god…"
✹ once the morning rolls around, you both share a laugh about his drunken state from the night before, and he makes you promise not to tell the boys he passed out in the middle of kissing you.
✹ you just laugh and file it away for future blackmail.
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gaz
✹ the two of you were watching a movie late one night, the first time you've had time to yourselves in months thanks to the never-ending workload you both seem to be under.
✹ the dim mood lighting of your flat combined with the comforting feeling of finally being alone with kyle is nearly enough to send you to sleep already, but your want to spent time with him keeps you awake.
✹ kyle watches you stifle a yawn as he presses play on the movie, and tugs you to lean against him with an arm around your shoulders and a teasing grin. "promise you won't fall asleep this time?"
✹ you look up to him from where your head rests against his collar and huff, a smile of your own playing on your lips as you nudge him lightly with your elbow. "maybe i should be the one asking that."
✹ the bags under his eyes leave no question about how tired he really is, but he was the one that insisted the two of you spend time together tonight, despite the exhaustion you knew he was hiding.
✹ "and leave you all by yourself?" he chuckles, "never, love."
✹ a comfortable quiet settles over you while you watch the movie together; kyle's choice, something action-y you've never seen before, but you know he's seen it a million times. he occasionally adds commentary to make you laugh which he, naturally, manages to do every time.
✹ as the movie plays, you gradually migrate to laying on the sofa on your back with kyle between your legs and his head on your sternum. you absentmindedly run your nails over his scalp, gently massaging his head while he hugs your waist.
✹ it's about two-thirds of the way through the movie that you realise kyle hasn't said anything in a while. you pause your ministrations, smoothing over his curls as you turn your gaze from the screen to where he lays on top of you.
✹ a soft smile lights up your face when your eyes land on his blissfully relaxed features, sound asleep and breathing in time with the steady rise and fall of your chest.
✹ you continue to watch the movie in silence, occasionally petting kyle's hair when he grumbles in his sleep. he deserves the rest, you muse, and something about how peaceful he looks means you can't even entertain the idea of disturbing him. and you would definitely tease him that he fell asleep like he said he wouldn't.
✹ even once the movie has finished, and your back has started to ache from the position against the armrest, you still don't dare wake him. tomorrow was an off day for both of you, so there was no need to go anywhere – as if you would ever want to, intertwined with your boyfriend and surrounded by his warmth.
✹ you close your eyes, give him one last squeeze, and whisper into the silence, "sweet dreams, kyle."
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soap
✹ it wasn't supposed to happen like this.
✹ everything was supposed to go smoothly, you'd get what you came for, and you'd be home in time for dinner.
✹ but it hadn't happened like that  of course it didn't. you were on your way out, with johnny by your side, when a sudden noise from behind you caught your attention.
✹ you spin around to see a dishevelled soldier aiming their gun at you, but you noticed just a second too late. you can do little more than watch as they pull the trigger, a sick sense of horror travelling up your spine as time seems to slow down.
✹ there's a split second where you brace to feel the bullet lodge somewhere in your body, but that impact never comes.
✹ with a speed you didn't know he possessed, johnny tackles you to the ground and out of the path of the bullet, landing on top of you and pushing the air from your lungs.
✹ you lay winded underneath him, the sound of him returning fire vaguely reaching your ears but it takes a second for your mind to catch up.
✹ it’s quiet by the time you come back to your senses, johnny already pulling you to stand with a strained grunt.
✹ "johnny?" you frown, taking note of how he favours one side when he urges you to start walking again, "you okay?"
✹ "fine, darlin’, let’s just–" he winces, stumbling ever so slightly and trying to play it off by pushing you in front of him, "let’s just get home, aye?"
✹ your frown deepens. you turn around and stop him with your hands on his shoulders, and it's then that you notice how laboured his breathing has become.
✹ "you're not fine, soap!" your heart sinks as you watch the patches of blood on his leg grow steadily darker, "why didn't you tell me you were hit?"
✹ he doesn't flinch at the anger in your voice, or when you haul his arm over your shoulder and resume dragging him the rest of the way to the helo. he mumbles incoherent that sounds like an apology, but your only focus is getting him to safety and stopping the bleeding.
✹ the others are already waiting for you as the exfil site comes into view, and the moment they spot you shouldering johnny's weight they spring into action to help you.
✹ johnny is dragged up the ramp and made to lay on the floor as gaz and ghost make short work of packing the bullet wound in his thigh with gauze.
✹ you lift his shoulders and head to rest in your lap, grimacing at the pained groans he lets out when ghost puts his weight on the wound.
✹ "why didn't you tell me?" you utter, tilting his head back with your hands on his cheeks and meeting his distant gaze with your brows knitted together in concern.
✹ he musters a weak smile and lets his eyes flutter shut, the muscles in his face visibly relax. "i’m fine… ‘slong as yer okay, bonnie…"
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ghost
✹ sometimes you wondered if ghost ever slept.
✹ he would always volunteer himself for the first watch, and he was up before you without fail every morning. on base he always seemed to be in the gym before everyone, and in his office after everyone else has left. he was frustratingly elusive.
✹ it worried you, that perhaps he had trouble sleeping. it made sense, however saddening, that someone like him wouldn't sleep well, but it was even worse that he brushed off your concern for him with practised ease.
✹ he made sure to take care of others, but wouldn't let you try and do the same for him. perhaps he thought you were joking, or that you were only being courteous, but your mind always goes back to one thing; the theory that, for some people, it's only possible for them to fall asleep when they feel safe.
✹ you wanted to be that for him, like he was for you.
✹ you do your best to forget about your rejected concerns for him, and the thought all but slips your mind until a mission two months later.
✹ it was long, drawn-out, and gruelling, and all you wanted to do was get home and have a shower hot enough to melt your skin. it had been almost a week since you've had a moment to catch your breath, and you were more than thankful to be on the way home.
✹ even if that meant being squashed into the back of an suv with soap passed out on your left and ghost on your right. gaz called shotgun and wouldn't give it up for anything, so here you were, shoulder to shoulder with the lieutenant you may or may not harbour feelings for.
✹ the five of you have been on the road for a couple of hours now. the conversation has died down by now and and the quiet hum of the radio was the only sound, besides soap's intermittent snores.
✹ you're on the verge of passing out yourself when a weight drops onto your shoulder, and you have to fight yourself not to jump with the start it gives you.
✹ your tired eyes look to the source and to your utter surprise, they find the dark fabric of ghost's balaclava resting against you, and when you tilt your head you can see the blond of his eyelashes against his cheeks.
✹ the sight brings a smile to your face. as subtle as possible, you shift as much as the limited space of the backseat will allow so his neck isn't bent at such an awkward angle.
✹ he fell asleep on you. perhaps it was just because of the exhaustion this mission left him with, but you like to think back on your theory from weeks ago as you admire the restful expression he wears.
✹ your stop fighting your own exhaustion and let your eyes fall shut, and with your last thread of consciousness you file this memory away for later, and hope that it really does mean that he feels safe with you.
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skzdarlings · 2 months
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the ride ; skz ; chan x reader
original ask: requested by @rosequartsz : chan with the prompt ❛ i want to fuck you so badly. ❜ like the reader is the same age as jeongin so chan kinda feels bad but at the same time he wants to corrupt the reader so bad cushsisjsis
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original ask: requested by anonymous : Chan and ❛ please. make me feel good. no one else can like you. ❜ ❛ have a little trust in yourself, i know you can take it. ❜
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pairing: bang chan/reader content info: friends to lovers, chan is a little older than reader, reader is not actually that innocent but pretends to be and they both get off on it lol. some not very safe driving lol keep ur eyes on the road. car sex, dirty talk, teasing, corruption play, puuuuure smut. word count: 2400 words.
masterlist. part of the valentine’s day stories series. credit to prompts. requests are closed.
enjoy!
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“That’s not fair,” Jeongin says.  “I called dibs.”
“Too bad.”  You stick your tongue out at him.  “Learn to run faster, loser.”
Jeongin scowls, once more relegated to the backseat of Chan’s car.   You are sitting pretty in the passenger seat for the fourth day in a row and Jeongin is playfully annoyed about it. 
You and your twin brother have been racing into Chan’s car since high school.  You are both at university now, but Chan still offers the occasional lift.  With storm season making public transit a bigger hassle than it’s worth, Chan has been offering more rides. 
Just because of the weather.  Not any other reason.  Of course.      
You smirk, casting a side-glance into the driver’s seat.  Chan is smiling at Jeongin through the rearview mirror, looking less like Channie, the boy of your teenage fantasies, and more like Bang Chan, the man of your adult dreams.  He is wearing a baseball cap and leather jacket, his whole demeanour oozing an effortless masculinity, the bearing of a competent man who knows he can do anything. 
And still, despite his well-earned cockiness, he has an undoubtedly shy side.  When he looks at you, the tips of his ears flame an embarrassed, fiery red, and his dimpled smile is almost boyish in its sweetness. 
“Right then,” he says.  Then, like the endearingly cheesy goofball he is, he adds, “All aboard, ready for takeoff!” 
“Jeongin,” you say, blinking innocently at your twin through the mirror.  “You have your presentation notes, right?  You don’t want to forget them.”
Jeongin double-checks his bag but you already know he won’t find them.  You deliberately took them out and placed them on the kitchen counter.
“Damn,” he says, quickly unbuckling his seatbelt.  “I thought I put them in here.  Sorry, I’ll be right back.” 
Jeongin practically flies out of the car and up the driveway, leaving you and Chan.  It happens quickly, before Chan can even compute it.  You can see the gears turning in his head, but you are faster, sighing melodramatically while gathering the hem of your skirt. 
“Silly boy,” you say.  “What should we do while he’s gone?”  You draw your skirt up your thighs just enough to tease the skin of your upper thighs. 
Chan is staring there with his mouth open, his words evaporating on his tongue.  He clears his throat after a second, ripping his gaze away.  He looks across the dashboard and laughs, a shy, awkward laugh. 
“Your brother will be back in a second,” Chan says.  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, yeah?”
He is white-knuckling the steering wheel, like all his restraint is being poured into that physical grip.  Even so, it is not hard to pry his hand off the wheel.  You know a stronger, more belligerent shove could not bend a determined Bang Chan, but the softest touch from your gentle hands will have him breaking in seconds.   
You are slow, casual despite your racing heart, guiding his hand onto your knee.  He makes a little noise that turns your whole body to pure, liquid heat.  You make a similar sound, a faint whimper in the back of your throat, as you slide his hand up your thigh. 
“Channie,” you say, your too-sweet, too-innocent voice part of your acting, but your breathlessness undoubtedly real. 
“Don’t—”  His voice breaks and he clears his throat.  “Don’t say my name like that.  You know—”  
“What do I know, Channie?” you ask, blinking at him with wide eyes while you curl his fingers around your thigh.  You bring your legs together, holding his hand between them.
He visibly swallows, throat bobbing.  The redness has spread from his ears down his neck. 
“We’ve talked about this, baby girl,” he says, his tone stricter, taking on that darker edge that makes your heart – and everything else – gush.   “We’ve been good so far, okay?”   If stolen kisses, open zippers, and groping touches count as good.  “You’re my – you’re my friend.  You should be like a little sister or something to me… yeah?  Yeah… Yeah!”  He shakes his head, pulling himself out of the distraction caused by you unzipping your jacket.  He squeezes your thigh, a firm, warning grip.  “Don’t make this so hard,” he says. 
“What’s hard for you, Channie?” you ask, reaching into his lap and touching his thigh, then higher, finding the evidence of his words.  A shiver moves across his shoulders, his breath catching as you cup your palm around the bulge in his jeans.  “Is it something I can help you with?”  You lick your bottom lip then smile. 
“Oh,” he says.  His eyes crinkle with amusement but there is a score of different emotions on his face, all of them smoldering.  “You really wanna play that game, huh?” 
There is no chance for an answer because Jeongin returns, hopping into the car with his notes.  You and Chan separate, looking out the dashboard window.  You pat your hot skin and try to slow your racing heart. 
Sensing the oddly silent tension, Jeongin narrows his eyes and looks between you.  Eventually, his expression sours like he smells something bad. 
“Oh my god,” he says, then punches Chan in the shoulder.  “Are you fucking my sister!”
“What!” Chan says, getting redder by the second.  “Jeongin, how could— I wouldn’t— I don’t—”
“What, you don’t fuck?” Jeongin asks, then laughs until he is wheezing.  “You can do better, man.”
“Jeongin, shut up!”  You reach back to smack at him, rubbing your hand all over his stupid face and messing up his hair while he wails in protest.   
“All right, all right!”  Chan says, breaking you up.  “Let’s just… let’s just go, okay?  Okay.” 
“Yes, daddy,” you say, mostly out of spite. 
Chan squeaks. 
Jeongin pretends to gag then slumps against his window.  
“I’m gonna need to start taking the bus,” he says, morose.
-
Fortunately, thanks to the impromptu revelation of your shenanigans, it does not take much convincing for Jeongin to find another ride home.  When Chan pulls into the campus parking lot to pick you up, you approach his vehicle with a grin and a wink.    
You slide into the passenger seat, smoothing down your skirt while he sighs.  It sounds more amused than frustrated.    
“Where’s your brother?” he asks. 
You shrug with theatrical exaggeration. 
“Right,” Chan says, starting the car.  “Got it.”
He puts a hand on your headrest to leverage himself, looking out the rear window as he reverses the car.  That proximity alone gets you hot, the temptation to grab him already strong.  You play a patient game, as always, stealing glances and suggestive smiles while he drives. 
Halfway home, you put a hand on his knee.  At first your touch is innocent, tracing slow circles on the denim, then you get a little more brazen, fingertips brushing up his thigh. 
“Baby,” he says in that warning voice, eyes on the road.  Holding the wheel with one hand, he uses the other to stop your wandering ascent. 
“Yes?” you ask with all that faux-innocence.  Rather than fight his touch, you guide his hand to your lap, placing it on your knee. 
Unlike this morning, he does not play nice.  You make a startled, high-pitched sound when he immediately dives under your skirt, his rough palm pressing down where you are already aching.   Your thighs slam shut out of instinct but his hand is where it wants to be, his fingers curled around your pussy in a proprietary touch. 
“What’s wrong?” he asks, his voice playfully mean.  He grinds the heel of his palm against your throbbing clit.  He never takes his eyes off the road.  “Isn’t this what you wanted?”  
“I don’t know what you mean,” you say, though you cannot help but rock yourself against his hand. 
“Mmm,” he says, patting your pussy then stroking your thigh, guiding your legs open again.  “We’ll see about that.” 
You keep your eyes ahead too, pretending not to notice when he glances at you.  Then you gasp because he reaches out and tugs the zipper on your hoodie.  You instinctively clutch it, wearing nothing but a bra underneath, having taken off your other layers to surprise him.  He is the one surprising you, a secret sexy menace under all that shy sweetness.  He unzips the hoodie halfway then reaches past the material to squeeze a handful.  Your body practically sings under his touch. 
“Channie,” you say, breathless again. 
“Don’t worry, baby,” he says.  “Channie’s gonna take care of you, yeah?  Always.” 
“Take care of me how?”  Your question toys with that false innocence, the little game that gets you both hot, but there is genuine curiosity there too.   This game has been escalating slowly over time.  You want more and you are starting to get desperate. 
Chan looks at you.  His gaze moves over your mouth then your body, your skirt rucked up and breasts practically spilling out of your hoodie.  He swears, looking back at the road with that red blush on his ears again. 
“Fuck,” he says.  “I want to fuck you so badly.  You have no idea.” 
His words have a raw, honest edge.  He swallows, hard.  You feel like one tightly coiled ball of tension, ready to snap apart. 
“Please,” you say in that breathy voice.  “Make me feel good.  No one else can like you.” 
You do not make it all the way home.  There is a nearby lookout point at the park, a shrouded parking area that has undoubtedly seen its fair share of hook-ups.  Chan parks there and you dive at each other like randy teenagers.  You climb into his lap, bumping everything on the console on your way, the honking the horn with your backside for good measure.  It makes you both giggle.
Then your laughter is swallowed by hot, desperate, open-mouthed kisses.
“Mmm,” you hum against his lips.  You push his hat off his head and sink your fingers in his curly hair.  “Channie, please,” you say. 
He cups the back of your neck, holding your head where he wants it so he can kiss you thoroughly.  His ravishing touch leaves you shaking with need, rocking against him to no relief. 
“Poor baby,” he says with a little laugh, squeezing your neck then drawing his hand down the curve of your chest.  He unzips the rest of your hoodie.  His mouth follows the same path as his hands, down your chest and back up again. 
He is working you up, deftly and swiftly, using just a few well-placed throat kisses, a few flicks of his fingertips across the sensitive peaks of your breasts.  He seems so composed under you, other than the flush to his complexion, the heat to his skin that has him shedding his leather jacket.   You feel completely undone, half-naked and writhing in his lap.  Your hands tangle together, fumbling around his belt. 
“Let me,” he says.  He gets his belt open and his fly undone, then his hands are on you.  He doesn’t just tug your panties to the side but rips them apart, snapping the seams like they’re nothing.  Then those strong fingers are inside you, finding just how wet and ready you are for him.  He makes a low, guttural sound, thumping his head against the headrest.  “Fuck, baby girl,” he says.  “You know what you do to me?” he asks. 
“I dunno, Channie.”  You pout and bat your eyelashes.  “You better show me.” 
He laughs.  He holds your hips and moves you, positions you where he wants you.  You are pressed so close together, chest-to-chest, so you cannot see when he finally enters you.  But you feel it, hot and hard and filling you, stretching you, almost painful but burning so good.  You slap a hand to the roof of the car, eyes closing as you moan. 
“S-so much,” you say, because it feels like you have been sinking forever and he is still not all the way inside. 
“Yeah, I know, baby,” he says.  His thumb is expertly circling your clit while your whole body seems to soften, changing to fit him, like you were made for this moment.  “That’s it,” he says.  “Have a little trust in yourself.  I know you can take it.”
His thrusts are small, his hands guiding your hips over him, grinding him deep inside you.   Then you are clutching his shoulders, moaning into his neck as he fucks you slowly and steadily.  It is everything you needed and not enough, only spurring more desire.  You know you will need him again, the way he needs you.  Just the way he says your name as he holds you, as he fucks you, as he takes you apart and puts you together again.   It feels like that when you come, when he fucks you through it, saying your name and praising you. 
“Good girl,” he says, barely above a breath.  “That’s it, baby. Just like that.”
When he gets close, he pushes the seat back.   You get on your knees between his legs and take him in your mouth.  He comes with a low groan and another breathless slur of your name.  Then you are back in his lap and his hands are everywhere, clutching you possessively to his chest.  You are both breathing hard, riding the slow come-down of your frantic desperation. 
“Fuck,” he eventually says.  He seems shy again, giggling as he looks at you with a blush on his face.  “We, uh, we just did that, in the car, uh wow, yeah, I, uh—”
“Channie,” you say with a laugh of your own, grabbing his face and kissing him.  He smiles into the kiss, returning it with the same tender softness. 
You kiss for a long time, ignoring the world around you.  Eventually you have to crawl back into your seat and mostly redress yourselves, still smiling and giggling at each other the whole time.  Your phone was buzzing in your bag so you finally check it, rolling your eyes at the message there.   
You show it to Chan who laughs, blushing again, but nods. 
“Right,” he says, “We should probably go get him.”
You laugh too, sending an emoji with its tongue sticking out in response to Jeongin’s message that reads:  My ride fell through.  When you are done not-fucking each other, can you come back and get me?  Thanks.  Sluts.   
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