#it just makes it a bit more effort to hold you accountable

[dawn-the-rithmatist]

Common Tumblr Myths

I’m seeing some information go around rn that’s true in spirit, but not entirely correct and I want to make a few little reminders

“Likes don’t do anything, they’re just so you can find things again later in your liked posts.” This one is usually fired off as part of encouraging people to reblog instead of/in addition to liking things. It’s a good thing to encourage, because reblogs are the most EFFECTIVE way to show support and share posts, but they’re not the ONLY way. Likes do things!! They help posts be more visible outside of people’s dashes in search results, the “for you” page, and things like “in your orbit” and “based on your likes” (assuming you have those enabled- you can turn them off in settings).

“Tumblr doesn’t have an algorithm.” Also usually seen as part of the reblog-not-like posts. Tumblr does have an algorithm- it’s just not forced on you like it is everywhere else. Your dash (the main screen when you open the app or website) is curated on follows and reblogs, but the “for you” page, search results, and anything that shows up on your dash because of tags you follow and your/your friends’ activity, that’s tumblr’s algorithm! You can avoid it completely if you want, and sometimes it does some Weird Shit, but if you’re new here and struggling to find blogs to follow, browse some tags, reblog and like a ton of things, and then check out the for you page. It’s actually a pretty good way to find new people!

“It’s rude to block/unfollow people.” Full honesty, this is maybe not a universal opinion, but on a website where your experience is almost entirely defined by who and what you follow, you need to block and unfollow people. Sometimes your interest changes and you don’t want a fandom cluttering up your dash. The “toxic side” of a fandom can be nothing but a myth to you if you block liberally. No one can know if you’ve blocked them unless they specifically go to your blog, and even then it looks the same as a loading error. The strength of tumblr is the ability to control your own experience, so take advantage!

“There’s no way to know who sent an anon ask.” That is um. Not true. There are ways to figure it out. I will not detail them here because you can Google that and I don’t want to hand people that power, but just. If you are going to be shitty to someone on anon, please keep in mind that people can figure out who you are fairly easily, even if most folks don’t know how or won’t go to the effort of doing it. Also, anon asks can be a really lovely thing, so why,, use them to be a dick

This isn’t a myth but it is related to that last bit: you can answer asks privately! If you get an ask and you want to respond but don’t want it on your blog, answer it privately so only you and the asker can see it. It’s a good way to handle asks that are maliciously targeting someone or potentially trying to start drama. Highly recommend. Don’t be a cyberbully’s platform.

That’s all I’ve got right now (whoops got a bit off topic) but if I see more going around I might reblog this with some more for the new folks. Also! Hi new folks, glad you’re here :)

[fluffyartbl0g]

FUCKED UP BEETLE

PROBLEM

So you're having a totally fine day by all accounts and then it instantly goes to shit just because you pass by a fucked up beetle hidden in the grass. You've seen bugs dead all the time, so what. So what if its torn up wings and cracked shell definitely mean that some random kids fucked it up before it died. So what if your dad was drunk and high all the time and screamed at you and you fucked C over and you fuck everything up. SO WHAT. No amount of therapy or 'healthy coping mechanisms' or 'unpacking of trauma' will ever erase the ultimate truth underneath. You are intrinsically, hopelessly fucked.

-3 Volition: Fucked in the head

SOLUTION

You're going to wake up the next morning totally fine again. In fact, Harry's probably going to put some extra effort into making breakfast nice to cheer you up--which will actually kind of annoy you, but in a way that makes you feel all fuzzy and warm. Sure, you still get stuck in your head sometimes about sad shit, but you're dealing with it better and better, and the days where you actually feel like someone are beginning to far outnumber the days you don't. For now, you hug him a little bit tighter. You're safe now.

-1 Composure: Permanently a little bit fucked

+2 Volition: You're going to be okay

_

transcript under read more

VARIOUS CANDY WRAPPERS SPLAYED OUT ON THE TABLE: The label reads 'BLUE DREAM'. Unlike what its colour may suggest, it is not flavoured a blueberry or bubblegum, but vanilla.

[A red orb appears above Harry's head]

SHIVERS [Impossible: Success] - The air has been shifted ever so slightly. He's trying to breathe correctly, but blurs of thought keep flickering through his mind. This continued for the entire thirteen minute trek home.

PERCEPTION [Medium: Success] - A loud thunk rattles across the room as Cuno closes the door, he looks out of breath

EMPATHY [Easy: Success] - He's barely holding it together

CUNO - He looks up at you with a yelp, "Fuckin hell! Wasn't the pig supposed to be out investigating some shit?"

SUGGESTION [Medium: Success] - He didn't want you seeing him like this, answer his question, he'll leave if you ask him about it first.

1. "Did something happen?"

2. "You look like you ran a damn marathon kid, what's up?"

3. "I had to quickly come back to snag some important evidence for the case" (point to various candy wrappers)

CUNO - He scrunches his brow "That mean you're getting your ass outta Cuno's face soon?"

DRAMA [Easy: Fail] - Wow. He didn't even ask about the wrappers!

EMPATHY [Difficult: Success] - He doesn't want to be alone

1. "Did something happen?"

PERCEPTION [Difficult: Fail] - Cuno's hands tremble as he mumbles out a whisper of words you can't make out

1. Cuno?

[Harry reaches out to comfort him, but Cuno sees this and snaps at him]

CUNO - "NOTHING FUCKING HAPPENED ALRIGHT? THINGS HAVE BEEN FUUUCKIN PEACHY TODAY"

"CUNO GOT A FUCKIN A ON HIS ESSAY, ABSOLUTELY WENT DOWN ON A DELICIOUS FUCKIN KEBAB YA HEAR?

CUNO - He pauses. "Nothin fuckin happened today. It's all me. Cuno's the one thats all fucked up"

He starts choking up by the end of that,

(a yellow orb is seen above Harry's head as he looks at cuno breaking down [it's reaction speed])

Harry hugs him

CUNO - "Fuck"

KUUNO - He hugs back tightly

[heich0e]

Touya's not usually one to check his text messages.

Never has been, ever since he got his first cellphone when he was 13. He finds it more of a nuisance than anything, the way people always want to get ahold of him. Always expect a response from him over the most mundane shit. He barely likes talking to anyone as is, let alone during his private time—therefore, as a general rule, he doesn't respond to texts.

Especially not ones that pop up on his phone on a lazy Saturday afternoon with the contact name 'Bird Brain' listed as the sender.

But when these particular message previews appear, rudely interrupting him in the middle of watching a cake decorating video while he lays sprawled across the couch, Touya can't help but click through to the conversation to give them the response that they deserve.

His response is about as succinct and unamused as he is.

Three telltale dots appear at the bottom of the conversation before Touya can click away, and he finds himself waiting to see what Keigo comes back with—for reasons not even he quite understands.

Touya pushes himself up off the couch in an instant, stomping into your bedroom.

He finds himself hesitating once he makes it to the doorway, his body having moved relatively of its own accord, realizing only once he's standing at the threshold that he's not even really sure what he's going to say.

You're laying across the bottom of your bed on your tummy with your sock-clad feet lifted in the air behind you. You have one headphone in your ear and your laptop propped in front of you with that stupid romantic drama you like so much playing—the one Touya pretends he hates but always gets a little pouty when you watch an episode without him. You turn when you spot him in your peripheral vision, popping your headphone out of your ear and hitting the spacebar to pause your show.

"I'm almost done," you tell him, glancing back to your screen where the male lead is paused mid-confession—his mouth still open in the middle of his ardent monologue. You peer back at him again over your shoulder with a slightly smug look. "If you hadn't watched ahead without me we could be watching it together, y'know."

"That was an accident," Touya grumbles, sniffing a little indignantly. "It started playin' automatically when I turned the TV on."

"Sure, sure," you chirp, turning back to your laptop. When you realize Touya's still lingering there, you face him again, this time pushing yourself up on your elbow so you can twist around to look at him more fully. Your brow furrows. "What's wrong?"

Touya sucks in a breath of air and holds it in his cheeks, narrowing his eyes slightly.

"Can I see your phone for a sec?" he asks.

The pinch of your brow slackens as one of them lifts in surprise.

"Yeah," you say, though your tone is still a little wary. You nod towards your bedside table at the head of the bed. "It's plugged in."

Touya shuffles towards you, rounding the end of your bed frame and approaching the device in question. He sit down at the edge of the mattress, and it dips under his weight. Beside him, you shuffle a bit closer to him as you resume watching your show, one of your feet brushing gently against his back as you kick them idly back and forth.

Touya knows your passcode, just like you know his, so it's no effort to unlock the device once he has it in hand. Finding the app in question is another story entirely.

He turns to you.

"Which one of these is Instagram?" he asks, holding the device in front of your face with the home screen open.

You pause your show again.

"This one," you say, pointing to one particular app icon, but your voice is notably perplexed.

Touya's never had any interest in social media. He had a couple of accounts when he was a teenager but hasn't properly logged in for years. As new social networking sites have risen and fallen, he's never bothered to even sign up, seeing no need in signing away his personal data to a platform he'll never use anyway.

Touya taps his thumb against the icon that you pointed out, waiting for the application to launch. His leg jiggles impatiently while he waits for it to load.

Beside him, you don't unpause your show.

When the screen finally loads, Touya is immediately accosted by an unfamiliar interface. There's some photo of a girl he doesn't know taking up most of the screen, and a few bubbles in the upper right hand corner that he can only assume are notifications you haven't checked. Touya may not use social media, but he's not an idiot either, so after clicking around the screen for long enough he finally manages to pull up what he recognizes as your personal profile.

"Touya, what are you doing?" you ask, thoroughly bewildered now, having just watched your boyfriend visit just about every corner of the Instagram app.

He sucks in a sharp breath.

Slowly, he turns to look at you.

"Did you just post this?"

He doesn't really need to ask, considering the baggy t-shirt you're wearing in the photo—his t-shirt, he recognizes immediately—is the same one you currently have on as you lie stretched across your bed. It's all you have on, save for the frilly little socks on your feet and the edge of the panties he can see peeking out where your shirt's hem has ridden up.

The photo blessedly has left those out.

You clear your throat, almost like you're embarrassed, reaching out for your cellphone. "Yeah, a little while ago."

Touya holds the device out of your reach, and a little sound of indignation slips from your lips. He keeps scrolling.

Your profile is full of photos of you that are just as charming as the first one he'd seen. Some are of friends, or food, or places you've visited. Many are even of him, or the two of you together. The collection is like a series of little snapshots into your life—of all the moments you wanted to save or share. But every so often there will be a photo just of you.

You with your lips pursed coyly, or maybe quirked with the ghost of a smile. You wrapped in a skimpy little dress you bought for a special occasion that Touya is all too familiar with. You with your eyes bright, or maybe one where they're heavy lidded in a sultry expression that makes something possessive and primal scrape against Touya's ribs.

His face feels hot when he looks at those ones. Hotter still when he realizes other people have seen them too.

"I think you should delete your account," he says suddenly, turning to face you with a completely serious—and markedly insistent—expression.

"W-what? Touya!" You exclaim plaintively. You push yourself up onto your knees and scrabble for your phone. Touya doesn't fight back to any real degree. He lets you crawl into his lap and wrestle it out of his hands, though the two of you do go tumbling back across the bed in the process. Once you've safely tossed the phone down to the other end of the bed out of his reach, you turn back to him with an irritated pinch to your features.

Touya meets your gaze easily, like a man without guilt.

"What's gotten into you?" you ask him softly, still straddling his lap. Your hands rest over his sternum, fiddling idly with the strings of his hoodie.

Touya sighs, reaching up and tugging you down to his chest before snaking his arms around your waist to keep you pressed against him. You don't try and wiggle out of his grip like he thinks that you might, instead you let him hold you, nuzzling your face into the collar of his sweatshirt.

"You're being weird," you mumble.

"No, weird would be me asking you to throw your phone away and never leave the house again so I'm the only one who gets to look at you," Touya replies, his fingers dipping under the hem of your—his—shirt and creeping up along your spine. "I'm actually being pretty normal, all things considered."

You huff out a little laugh and Touya feels the warmth of it break against the skin of his throat. You lift your face so you can look at him, and Touya admires the view of you from so close up. The curve of your lips, the colour of your eyes, the tip of your nose. He could look at you all day, he realizes then. Every part of you. Every inch and dip and curve that makes you up. He could study them. Map them out with his eyes closed, long committed to memory.

You make him feel kind of insane, sometimes. More insane than usual, anyway. He worries that he likes you too much.

"What are you thinking about?" you ask him quietly.

You.

Touya purses his lips.

It wasn't his intended goal, but he's happy to accept the little kiss you press against them anyway, a laugh slipping out of his mouth and into yours before you pull away. He shuts his eyes, letting his head tip back against the bed again, letting out a long, exhausted breath.

"Wanna help me set up an instagram account?" he finally mutters after a long stretch of silence.

You push yourself up overtop of him, and when he cracks one eye open he finds you looking down at him excitedly.

"Really?" you ask him incredulously, but undeniably pleased by the prospect.

He nods a bit, pulling you back down against his chest. He lets his eyes shut once more.

If deleting your account is out of the question, he might as well have his own so at least he gets to admire it.

You wiggle comfortably in Touya's hold, your TV show long forgotten at the other end of the bed, content to just let your boyfriend trace lazy circles into your thigh as your legs tangle together with his.

Touya's eyes pop open again suddenly, an unpleasant and not-so distant memory rushing back to him.

Your gaze meets his own, a quiet concern swimming behind it.

He takes your face in his hand.

"How do you block someone on Instagram?"

[steviewashere]

I want to write something sort of meta, hear me out on it. Sorry, if this hits too close to home. The idea came to me and I needed to get it out of my system. And...would you look at that, another half-written fic.

Steve ends up getting really into Star Wars after Dustin shows him to it. Like, so much that he gets himself involved with conventions, cosplay, collecting anything and everything he can. He's involved in a fandom space. Learns the world of fan fiction. And let's say that maybe, during his time figuring out where he wants to go with life, he picks up writing fanfic as a hobby.

It encourages him to get an English degree. Encourages him to lean more into that hobby, but then expanding upon it to write original short stories and small novels that go published. But he holds strong to Star Wars and fandom and finding his spot cemented in it. He's been a fan for...nearly forty years at this point (set in 2024, ugh I know).

And maybe he dabbles in online spaces here and there. He ignores the insufferable adults in the Star Wars fandom (the "um, actually..." guys, btw). Indulges the effort of typing out his handwritten fan fiction, ones he used to bring and pass around at conventions, ones he'd let Eddie read with a shy look in his eyes. And he posts them online, has a Tumblr account, maybe does a few short things on Twitter, definitely is on AO3 (albeit newer, having never attempted online fan work before).

But then...then he gets his first little bit of hate. Vicious, gross comments on his work. Sometimes in private messages. Even publicly, once, on Twitter. It irks him. He holds strong, he does. But then it gets worse and worse and somehow, worse. Younger people claiming he's too old, others claiming that he can't write for certain characters because they're out of his age range, that he can't ship certain people, he can't say that a character would do this or that, that Star Wars is media for a younger audience (despite being somebody who saw it "back in the day"). But that he...That he's not supposed to be there.

And that last little comment sticks with him for a long time. It makes his effort and his attention and his love for writing fanworks falter. He stops. Thinks about the characters he loves, of Leia and Han or even Luke and Han or Lando and Han (listen he loves writing Han). But then he wonders if it's even worth it, to indulge this interest anymore. Yeah, maybe he's older than the source material. Sure, maybe he was introduced to it a little later than most, but that doesn't mean he doesn't love it. Yet, his attention towards Star Wars completely falls away.

He stops watching it. His DVDs going dusty and unused. Starts putting away all his action figures, because what if he posts a photo one day and somebody sees them and claims that that's not for him and—

Then, he goes completely offline from fandom. Even if he still gets the emails from users who actually enjoy his stuff, ignoring them completely. Focuses on using the internet for work. For his novels, for the little stories he actually gets paid to write. But his work just isn't the same. The passion, despite being an original story and original source material, is completely dwindled.

His hobby has been stripped from him. His interest has been knocked straight out of his hands. And he just...moves on.

Even if it hurts to go down into the basement of he and Eddie's home, eyes catching on the see-through bins of original action figures, Lego sets, comic books. Even if it makes something strangle in his chest when he opens up the browser on his phone and it immediately opens to a new ship he'd been getting into: Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker—because he finally picked up The Mandalorian, because he was finally talked into watching it when he had the free time.

And then it all bursts over when Eddie finally approaches him about it, when they're enjoying a night-in, sitting around lazily on their sofa.

"There's a convention coming into town," he comments, "supposedly, Hayden Christensen is going to be there. We should go, try and meet him."

Steve just grunts in response.

"Oh-kay...or we could just stay home and watch the movie?" Eddie suggests. "Been a while since I've seen Darth on screen, telling Luke about"—

"I don't want to," Steve cuts in quietly, "isn't really my thing anymore."

Silence then follows. For a beat. Then two. A third.

"Not your thing?" Eddie asks him incredulously. "Not too long ago you were raving all about that new show that's coming out! That you saw they were doing lightsaber whips and you were excited to see how they worked! What do you mean it's 'not your thing'?"

Steve shrugs. "Grew out of it or whatever. Got more important things to focus on now." He sniffs, trying to keep himself held together, grumpy and firm in his decision.

Eddie's stare drills into the side of his face. Scalding, just like that lava was in Revenge of The Sith. "Baby," he speaks softly, "did something happen? You haven't even...you don't read your beautiful little stories to me anymore. In fact, now that I think about it, I haven't even seen your lightsabers around here. What's goin' on?"

He fiddles with the hem of his shirt. A ratty plain white t-shirt that he wears now when he's lounging around the house. It used to be one with the Millennium Falcon on it, but that's tucked down far in his dresser. Not for him anymore.

"Steve," Eddie presses, "did something happen?"

His stare stays down at his lap, still fiddling with his shirt. Fingers flexing unfamiliarly in the strings, unlike the loose ones on his Star Wars shirts. "I just"—Steve heaves a deep sigh—"it's time I grow up. It's...not for me anymore. Too old for it now, I guess."

"You guess or you know? Because nobody's too old for anything. Unless, y'know, you're like eighty-nine and in terrible health and trying to hike Everest, then..."

Despite everything, Steve finds himself chuckling. A giddy little sound here and gone in a breath. He shrugs again, albeit smaller this time. Crumbling within himself. Quietly, honestly, he admits, "People were being mean to me about it online. About my writing. That I'm doing it wrong, that I—that I'm too old for it. That I don't belong because of my age." He finally brings himself to look at Eddie, blearily because his eyes are aching and wet. "I got to thinking and I...maybe I've just been too caught up in my own bliss to realize that those people are right. They're right and I shouldn't be into kids stuff anymore."

Eddie makes a soft, sad cooing noise in the back of his throat. "Oh, baby," he breathes. "Baby, those people don't know a single damn thing about your love. But...but I do. I know that you've seen every single Star Wars movie more times than I've probably eaten in my entire life. And what about all those Halloween costumes over the years? I didn't dress up like Leia for nothing, Mr. Solo."

Steve scoffs wetly. Goes to protest, but—

"And...and that handshake! The one with Dustin? You guys have had that for nearly forty fucking years! So, why bother indulging any of these...these hardasses on the internet? Did they sit next to you on the sofa as you fucking curled yourself like a shrimp and wrote every little intricate detail of a kiss between Luke and Han? Have they read your work while you blushed all shy, while you tucked your hair behind your ear and asked for the most earnest of feedback, to make sure you spelt things correctly or put a comma in the right place? These people, did they get to see you blossom and grow like a fucking bushel of roses over your hobby?

"Because I know I did. And even though you were nervous about your words on the paper, you still came to me. You still wrote and wrote and wrote until I had to bully you into breaks, just so you wouldn't ruin your poor wrists. If they had even an ounce of the passion that you do, they could write their own stories. They can make their own endings and make the characters the way they imagine them.

"They choose, instead, to—what—make fun of you because you have a space to express yourself? Because you found passion and turned it into something so beautiful, even I—a dungeon master, someone supposed to be amazing at storytelling—can't put into words? You found a way to do that, Steve. And you do that with kindness. You do it for free, mind you. If their only passion sits within sending you vitriol over people who aren't even remotely close to real, then they're the ones who don't belong.

"If I've learned anything, fandom is a space to share and bounce off each other's words. It's community and it's belonging and it's sharing what you love because you just love it. Fandom isn't bullying. Bullying is just bullying, Steve.

"And everything you've ever done in your life, in regards to fandom and outside of it, is so much better than hate. You may be a nerd or...or a little bit overzealous or whatever, but at least you aren't hateful. I think being hateful, that's worse—don't you think?"

Steve can only stare in response, fast tears down his cheeks, hands shaking in his shirt. Mind reeling. Because, yes, Eddie's right. And he maybe should've talked about it initially, but the hurt festered and festered and tangled and grew until he was nothing but an unhealed scab. And Eddie, he's the antiseptic to his uncovered cuts—the ones deep on his heart, where all his love is—even for things considered mundane, like movies, like TV shows.

"Steve," Eddie carefully murmurs, wrapping Steve's hands with his own, "you don't have to do something right to love it. You don't have to be a certain way to be happy. If Star Wars made you happy, then why give it up?"

He sniffles and chokes back on a sob. Because, again—damnit—Eddie's right. "I miss it," he admits quietly, "all I've done is miss it."

Eddie gives him a small smile. Something achingly soft that reaches deep within Steve. "Then open your arms and welcome it back, baby," he whispers, "even if you can't be online anymore, do it for yourself."

"I...I want to try it again, I'm just...scared. What if people hate it all over again? What if they're just nasty to me and shut me down and push me to the side and"—

"But what if they love it? What if your readers have missed you just as much?"

"You think?" he meekly asks.

Eddie's eyes widen and his eyebrows shoot up his forehead. "I know, actually. Your emails keep coming in on the computer's desktop because I keep forgetting to log you out. And, baby, you would not believe how many people have been eager for updates, for your return." His thumbs work into the backs of Steve's hands, warm and sure. "And, if it helps, maybe I can moderate your comments before you look at 'em? I'll read them to myself and if they're mean, I'll delete them."

Steve blows out a breathy little chuckle. "You'll just get mad at them," he gently teases. "But that doesn't sound too bad. Maybe I should try again. Not yet, though. I'm not ready."

"That's okay," Eddie assures, "take things slow. Maybe we start with watching the movies again? Getting your lightsabers back on display?"

"Can we go to the convention, too?"

"We can do whatever you want, Stevie."

For the first time in a long while, Steve finds himself smiling. "I love you," he whispers.

"I know."

[ramonathinks]

AITA for telling my best friend the only want for me to forgive him after i found him smelling my underwear is by eating me out? — REINER BRAUN

note: i couldn’t think of a title ?? lol so i might change it at some point idk but since @honeybleed wanted me to post what i sent in the gc 🙄🙄❤️ & for my pookie @pinkmirth because reiner is her man

content warning: (18+, no minors, no blank accounts) oral fixation, oral (f), panty sniffing, male masturbation, reiner is a bit touch starved orrr whatever

reiner made it a habit to lay his head on your lap. it wasn’t something he did when he was particularly moody but it was just something he needed every once in a while. he’d lay there with his eyes closed and you’d stroke his face and rub his scalp, occasionally he’d ask for a “friendly” kiss to his forehead, and that would be it. he needed that comfort; craved it. leaned into your touch and inhaled deeply. with how close he was, he always caught a whiff of what was between your legs. he didn’t mind it; he wanted more than just the scent of it, he wanted to be coated in it. sometimes when you were deep into your phone or whatever movie was playing, he’d slide his face just a tad bit closer to your cunt and do a quiet inhale. he’d do anything in his power to not get hard, fighting his thoughts and fighting the smell. he could just chalk it up to morning wood or something, he knew that.

reiner also knew that he shouldn’t be doing what he’s planning right now. you were only friends, best friends, and best friends didn’t do this to their best friends. but he couldn’t help his self. you always smelled so good and your panties were so cute. frilly pink and a cute little bow on the top; they were sitting on your washing machine and he was counting the seconds until he heard your shower turn on. he gulped, picking them up and holding them in his hand. one sniff wouldn’t hurt would it? he pressed his nose deep into the pink cloth and groaned out: “fuck,” he inhaled again, feeling his pants tighten.

as cock grew harder, he pushed the panties harder into his nose — the smell overwhelming his senses. pulling his pants down, he bites his lips. “wish i could just…fuck, wanna have you to myself.” he swallows, pulling his boxers down. the cool air making him hiss as he wraps his hand around his throbbing cock and jerks himself a bit. with sticky coated fingers, he does one last sniff before he wraps the panties around his cock. sliding them up and down on his leaky cock. “ah fuck, that’s it.” he squeezes his eyes shut. “that’s it, that’s it.”

“reiner, what are you-“ you gasp. eyes wide. he’s quick to put his cock up, but he knew you already saw it.

“it’s not what you think.”

“it’s not what i think? you were… jerking off with my panties rei and it isn’t what i think?”

he gulps, “i just… i can’t explain myself.” he sighs, finally allowing himself to put the panties down. “you just always smell so good and i couldn’t help myself.”

“so you’re a pervert?”

he grimaces but hangs his head low, “yeah..? just… i don’t want this to ruin our friendship, i never thought i’d get to this point and i just… please forgive me.” he pleads, finally looking your way.

“i don’t know rei…” but your clit was throbbing, a new rhythm all on its own. you pushed your thighs apart in an effort to clear your mind. but reiner was always handsome, too handsome for his own good.

you couldn’t lie and say that you didn’t have a tiny crush on him, he was always snuggling into you, spending the night and he had always been there for you. he treated you better than all the men in your life. maybe you should forgive him.

maybe if he…

it was your turn to swallow gulp and turn your head away, “i could forgive you…if you…” his eyes big as he awaits your answer. you were too embarrassed to even say it. “eat me out.”

you could see the way his cock twitched in his pants. “you’re…sure? i mean…” he thought about it time and time before but never did he think you’d ever want him to do that to you.

“nevermind—“

“no. no. it just caught me off guard.” he moves closer to you and takes your hand. “i want to.”

you were fresh out of the shower and the soapy smell on your skin was embedded. but when you spread yourself, he was salivating.

pretty and pink insides with wetness sticking your lips together. the more you spread yourself the more the strings of wetness broke apart. he groaned, “fuck, so pretty.” the smell overwhelming him, he loved it.

this was better than the panties.

he met your eyes before he did a small taste, licking a long stripe up and down your folds. your back arched a bit and he smiled.

he slurps and digs his face in, wetness on his tongue as he spreads your thighs apart even more. opening his mouth, he presses deep sucks into your slit — tongue exploring the center of your sweet creamy center before he works his way up.

he lays his tongue on your clit and sucks. he sucks once and groans, he sucks twice and then he opens his mouth wider — trying to lick at your slit and suck on your clit at the same time. “can’t get enough of you.”

he pulled back, letting your clit go before diving back in and swirling his tongue all over your swollen bud. you’re whining and thrusting your pussy more into his face. rolling your hips into his face, he lays his tongue down flat, small licks all around, watching your body flinch with every tiny touch of his tongue.

“don’t stop—!” your toes curl.

but he wasn’t planning on it.

[kissedsuns]

i adore your account & writing style 🫶🏼 i'm thinking reader who is low-key obsessed with charles' hands but not necessarily in a sexual manner (optional) at all but just always wants to hold his hand, public & private aka. physical touch as a love language, and he notices? lot's of love <3

you absolutely adored your boyfriend.

everything about him was flawless. his luscious, brown hair, his dazzling eyes. that charming smile of his and his little dimples that show up occasionally which makes your heart do somersaults. but most especially, you fucking loved his hands.

sure, it might sound weird, but they were so long and delicate. you can't help but stare when he flexes his hands, his veins practically bulging out.

and yes, he does notice.

"charles!" you call out from the kitchen, and his head instantly perks up at the sound of your voice.

"yes, baby?" he comes rushing in.

with a jar of strawberry jam in your hand, you push it towards him, hinting that you need some help opening it.

he giggles, shaking his head before taking the jar from your grasp.

for just a second, you got to see those veins pop out. those slender, alluring fingers curling around the jar, gripping the lid, and using almost no effort to unscrew it.

you quickly scramble to take the jar from his hands, your face heating up. although charles couldn’t feel the warmth, he definitely sensed it.

and he certainly caught you staring.

"thank you," you smile at him, placing the lid on the counter. "did you want some jam tarts? i'm making some in honour of the monaco grand prix. afterall, red is your colour."

charles' lips twist into a genuine smile. "jam tarts sound great," he leans down and presses a small kiss to your temple. "thank you."

to top it all off, he reaches forward and brushes a stray strand of hair out of your face, making it even more intimate by tucking it behind your ear. his index finger then trails down the side of your face, tracing your jawline before his hand drops to his side.

he knows exactly how much you love his hands—the way you melt at the lightest touch of his fingertips, or how you instinctively reach for his hand whenever you're walking together in public. it's almost as if your hands are magnetically drawn to his.

and he doesn't mind at all because he absolutely loves it.

his smirk widens as he watches the corner of your lips twitch into a loving smile. "need any help with making them?" he asks.

you shake your head. "that's alright," you say, taking his hand and interlocking your fingers, pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles.

before charles leaves the kitchen, he gazes into your eyes lovingly, with that same grin on his face.

it doesn't fade, and you start to wonder what could be so amusing that he can't wipe that smile off his face.

"..something you want to say?" you ask, an embarrassed grin tugging at your lips.

"oh, nothing. it's just.." he reaches out and tips your chin up with his finger. "did you want to kiss me anywhere else or just my hands?"

you roll your eyes, feeling a bit flustered that he has finally caught on.

charles leclerc isn't clueless when it comes to understanding his girl and the way she expresses her love. and if that means drooling over his hands, then so be it.

you press a kiss to his lips before pulling back, and his hand comes up to gently tug at your cheek.

"your hands are so warm," you hum, holding his hand against your face.

he laughs, patting your cheek gently before eventually pulling away.

and only then does he leave the kitchen. with that same smirk from earlier, of course.

© kissedsuns

[tsumuus]

first date headcanons | my hero academia

a/n these are just some ideas on how i personally think these characters would ask you out on a date + the actual date. not proofread

characters izuku midoriya, katsuki bakugou, shoto todoroki

masterlist

izuku midoriya

spend a while preparing before asking you out

seeking advice from friends like uraraka or iida

they would encourage him to just be himself

he'd want the setting in which he does to feel special but not too overwhelming

determined yet still a bit nervous

lowk see him just writting a letter

it would be neat and you can tell how much thought went into it

for the actually dtae

he'd take into account your interests and preferences

super organized

it would be something casual yet fun

like a walk in a park

or visiting a cafe

any kind of place with a relaxed environment in which the two of you could both talk and get to know each other better

like prepare a small picnic at a nearby park

he'd bring homemade sandwiches and snacks

he;d be slightly embarssed but proud of his effort

pick a spot in the park in which you could lay a blanket down and just watch the sunset

he loves to make you smile

and all the little things he does like pick up a dandelion for you to make a wish, tuck your hair behind your ear, or just the sweet words can;t help but make you smile

once the suns set he'd suggest a quick stroll through the city, enjoying the lights and the atmosphere

he'd more at ease by this point

and holds your hand if youre comfy w it

on the walk back he would immediately ask if you guys could hang out again soon

katsuki bakugou

honest and straightforward

doesn;t beat aroudn the bush

he's confident, and if theres any ounce of nervousness in him you wouldn;t be able to tell

but his usual brash demeanor would slightly soften

but he's still direct

he'd do it when youre alone

he'd pull you aside, away from others, to avoid making a scene

makes it clear that he's serious about this

his way of thinking is simple

he likes you and wants to spend time with you, no need to complicate it

would prefer a lowkey setting for the date, rather than flashy activities

like just hanging out in one of your dorms would be enough for him

but he knows you deserve more than that

but he still focuses on just spending time with you

getting to know each other in a relaxed setting

given his competitive nature, maybe go to a small and lowkey bowling alley with a small arcade

preferably one thats not well known and popular

he'd enjoy the challenge in the activities and the chance to see your playful side

don't think he'd let you win, he'd a try hard and will attempt to beat you at everything

throughout the date, he would show subtle protective gestures

like walking on the side of the sidewalk thats closer to the road

ugh what a man

while he may not be the best with words, he would engage in all your conversations with honesty and openness

during quiet moments, where he lets his gaurd down, you get to see a glimpse of his geniune personality

on the way back to the dorms, as he asks to see you again, he'd be less gruff but still determined and direct

hes serious about you

as you say goodbye, he can;t help but linger outside your dorm for a little

his expression soft with a small smile

shoto todoroki

would take him a while to even realize he liked you lol

but when he does

he's calm about it

yet he still takes some time to reflect on his feelings

ensuring that he truly does want to take this next step

he wants to make sure that this is 100% the right move for the both of you

would choose a quiet, private moment to ask you out

he values sincerity and wants to ensure you are comfortable

he'd appraoch you with gentleness that reflects his sincerity

he would be calm and genuine, showing his true intentions

his idea of a perfect first date is simple get elegant

he'd suggest starting the date off with a walk in a garden or park

someplace that would likeley have no distractions that takes away his time with you

after the walk

he'd take you to a charming little tea place

the calm atmosphere allowing for deeper conversations between you both

he wants to learn everything about you that he doesn;t already know

whether thats going on for hours about your favorite books, music, hobbies

he wants to share parts of his life that are meaningful to him ofcourse, but would rather learn about you first

there would be quiet moments throughout your date, but he enjoys those

he seems to enjoy your presence more than anyone elses

if its chilly he'd offer you his scarf or jacket

his actions speaking volumes about his caring nature

he's the best listener

he values your guys connection and is eager to learn more about you

as the day comes to an end and you two walk back to the dorms, your conversations continue

what he has with you is completely new to him

he's never wanted to get to knwo someone more than he has with you

and he expresses this clearly when asking about your availability for future dates

[catcze]

Making out with wriothesley in a dark corner in the fortress of meropide 🤭

👀👀 ooh

Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!

「 CWS : 」 Kissing ! Lots of kissing lmao— but nothing too heavy that it warrants a warning or age restriction afaik

"Wrio!" You exclaim, muffled by the hand that Wriothesley places over your mouth, practically kidnapping you as he pulls you into a hidden little corner of the fortress. He peeks behind the wall, ensuring that no one saw— but promptly brings his attention back to you at the sensation of something wet and slimy on his hand.

"What the hell—" he grimaces, pulling his hand away from your mouth, and you smirk victoriously at him. He frantically wipes it on his pants, cringing. "Did your crazy ass just lick me?"

"Well, your crazy ass kidnapped me!" You shove him with a little huff, leaning back against the wall with your arms crossed over your chest. Your eyes are trained on him, narrowed. "So? What gives?"

And really, you expect him to tell you something important. Some top-tier, need-to-know insider information, maybe. Perhaps the contents of some important and incredibly classified filed from Palais Mermonia. Why else would he go through all this effort to pull you away from everyone else, after all?

But Wriothesley just grins, eyes gleaming, and places his hands on your waist, getting a good hold of you and swaying you a little as he sidles into your space. His face is close to yours, so much so that you can feel his exhale on your lips. "Just want a kiss, sweetheart. Need to recharge a bit."

And when you sigh, fixing him with a dry stare, the corners of his lips just curl up more. "And it couldn't have waited until we got back to your office?"

"Mm. Too far of a walk."

You sigh again, and he knows he's got you hook, line and sinker. You cup his face in your hands, feeling the warm rush of blood under your palms, and tug him closer until his lips meet yours. It's soft and, by all accounts, chaste. A simple press of the lips, a smooch that merely lasts a second or two, but it already has Wriothesley's heart racing.

"One more," he asks when your lips disconnect, breath slightly hitched and already leaning back in. "Just one more, please."

And who are you to deny him? You tug him back, and this time when you kiss, there is more purpose to it. The press of his lips is harder against yours, and he squeezes you with the hands still on your waist, making you jump a little. It's almost like he's trying to kiss the breath from you, humming into the kiss and keeping you close. Eventually, you push him away and he goes, a flush high on his cheeks now.

"Okay." You're a little breathless yourself, but you still manage to stand on your own two feet. "Okay, that's enough to tide you over. C'mon, we had business to attend to, right?"

He nods, voice failing him as he tries to swallow heavily. Nevertheless, when you take his hand and go back on your merry way, he easily falls in step behind you like a lovestruck puppy, smiling all the way.

[15minlatewithbatbucks]

It's forty minutes into the latest state of the company press conference and Bruce has had to mute his mic entirely to avoid being turned into a meme AGAIN for sighing too much at his own event. For all that he's spent almost 20 years coaching his own children on not making scenes, he's really not much better. It's hot and he doesn't want to be here. His ribs hurt. He's tired. He's hungry. He's every excuse Dick or Jason have trotted out over the years.

(Tim understands company manners and can almost always be trusted to stick it out as long as he's allowed to vent his frustrations afterwards. He's recently taken to smashing ugly thrifted dishes. Stephanie and Damian have been collecting any ceramic not entirely pulverized and turning them into pavers for Alfred's garden.)

(Bruce gave up after Tim. He really only needs one kid to tag along to social events. If the kid start to outnumber him they start getting IDEAS.)

His distraction is why it takes two very rude repetitions of his name for him to take notice at the young reporter pushing his way to the front. Lucius stands, cutting off the project manager currently presenting and speaks into the mic.

"Please keep hold all questions until the end of the presentation, thank you."

"Mr. Wayne," the reporter tries again and Bruce waves away Lucius's further protests.

"Can I help you?" He asks, smiling with the full force of Brucie Wayne's charm behind it. It's been awhile since his last scandal, but if the press is inventing drama then it's less work for him.

The man holds up a photograph almost accusingly. He reeks of gotcha journalism.

Bruce squints towards him, unable to fully make out the contents of the photo. Dick may have been right when he gently suggested Bruce add glasses to his Brucie Wayne persona but that was a hill Bruce was still willing to die on. It was bad enough he had to have a prescription COWL.

"What do you have to say about the presence of your adopted son, Timothy Drake at the illegal mob in Robinson Park last Saturday?"

"Drake-Wayne," Bruce corrected because Tim hyphenated, damn it. He was the first of his children to let Bruce tag the Wayne name on and it mattered, damn it. "Wait do you mean-"

"How about reports of him kissing a man while there?"

"A blond man?" Bruce asked, finally giving up and crossing to take the photo for himself. "Oh. No, that's his boyfriend."

There was a beat of silence before Bruce realized his mistake. Just as the reporters began to squall, he dropped the blurry photo and began to speed walk off, phone suddenly in hand.

Through the podium's microphone, the gathered reporters heard one thing as Bruce evacuated the immediate vicinity.

"Tim? Don't be mad."

---

Despite Bruce's best efforts, he becomes a meme.

---

Immediately following the bombshell that Timothy Drake-Wayne had a boyfriend, social media blows up, clamoring for more information. They're ravenous for it, desperate. Tim doesn't have a personal social media presence but they stalk his professional accounts religiously. Bruce does have personal social media, but he maintains radio silence.

In the end, a Gotham based "influencer" stumbles across Dick Grayson and Damian Wayne getting donuts at Kosher Donuts and Co. Dick is personable, as always, and stops to speak with the young woman briefly.

"Yeah, Tim wasn't mad," he laughs when asked. "Just disappointed. But man, he knows how to milk it."

"Bruce is in the doghouse, huh?" she asks, full of false sympathy.

"A little bit," Dick says as Damian mumbles, "Titus would never share."

"But," Dick continued. "Tim's spun it so Bruce is on the hook for like, half a million in donations for local LGBT charities. Tim says it would hurt less if he sponsored a new shelter too, so that's something to look forward to."

"That's a lot of money! Where's it all going?"

"Oh you know," Dick says and gestures vaguely. "A lot of different programs."

"Yeah? Anything you personally want to see done with the funding?"

"Drag story time," Damian answers before Dick can. He looks intense. "But not for children. For dogs. In the shelter."

---

A day later, Tim breaks the silence. He goes live on Bruce's Instagram.

"So the problem was that Bruce thought the reporter was saying I was being unfaithful," Tim explains. "He totally forgot I wasn't out to everyone yet. Bruce was just worried because he's already told me if I break up with my boyfriend, he's not uninviting him from any future family events."

"Luckily, I was in fact just kissing my boyfriend at PRIDE. Just because people got shifty with the permits at the last second because of protestors doesn't make it an illegal mob. If you wanna hear about Wayne's and illegal mobs, talk to Dickie about his younger years. Nothing I do can compare."

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Monster, Inc. 3

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your boss is an asshole, you know this. But what happens when he turns his wrath upon you? (plus!reader)

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, this reader is known as Missie.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼

Monday's are always difficult. Especially as you cling to the good vibes of a girls' night out. The mood was a bit spoiled by the presence of few unexpected bosses but Elfie and Billie kept you all on track. Still, it wasn’t enough, you’re not ready for another week. 

You might not be but you make sure Mr. Hansen is. You have everything on his desk waiting. His coffee is in a travel thermos keeping warm, his daily itinerary is ready for him, and when he gets in, you’ll go to get his breakfast so it’s hot and fresh. 

You yawn and uncrinkle a pleat in your dress skirt. The brilliant shade of green is as bright as an emerald with a trim of yellow at the collar, belt and hem. It's loud but you don’t mind a bit of boldness. 

Mr. Hansen rushes by so quickly he catches you by surprise and your barely catch sight of him over your monitor as you snap your teeth down around another yawn. He’s so quick, he’s a blur. His door shuts behind him sharply and you stand as you go rigid as a pole. Oh no, what now? 

You don’t linger to figure it out. What you know about Mr. Hansen is that it’s best to let him simmer down on his own. The time it takes you to get his organic wrap should be more than enough. You head off with your purse and a bounce in your step.  

It feels good to be moving around. If you’d sat any long, you would risk an ambush nap. You can’t imagine your boss would appreciate that. 

You get to the bistro and put in your usual order. They know you there. They have a ticket ready to ring up and you pay with the company card. You step aside and chatter with the girl at the till about her film class in college. She’s sweet and very passionate about independent movies you’ve never even heard of. 

You claim your order and the complimentary iced tea Kamila made you. You thank her extra and head out, making note to return the favour the next time you stop by. You rush back to the office building a block over and barrel into the elevator. You smile at a man from the eight floor and wait for yours to ding. 

You carry on through the ritual of readying Mr. Hansen’s breakfast. You zap it in the microwave just to make sure it’s still warm and set out the porcelain plate. You lay it out with the little side of greens and tomato salad and leave your iced tea on your desk. 

You knock on Hansen’s door. No answer comes but you know better than to let yourself in. You knock again and put your ear to the door. A third time gets you a response. 

“Fast,” he demands from the other side. 

You open the door and declare your purpose, “Breakfast, Mr. Hansen!” 

You bound over as he keeps the back of his chair to you. You can see the top of his head over it despite his efforts to hunch down. Is he hiding? You put the plate where you usually do as he angles away from you. Is it Mr. Hansen? His hair isn’t that dark... 

“Mr. Hansen, is everything okay?” You ask tenuously. Silence. You hold your breath as he doesn’t move. You gulp and take a step back. “Sir...” 

“Fine,” his hits the armrest and spins around. 

You let your breath out with a gasp. Oh god. His hair is pitch black. The box dye has that blueish tint to it and is less than complimentary to his skin tone. Not to mention he didn’t touch the mustache. You do your best to control your expression and your. 

“Oh, wow, Mr. Hansen, did you get a new tie--” 

“Shut up!” He roars, “it’s not funny.” 

“Nothing’s funny, sir, I didn’t laugh.” 

“I can see your cheek...” he wiggles his finger tersely, “don’t.” 

“Sir, really, I’m not,” you assure him, evening out that ripple in your stomach and your breath. “You know, when I was in college, I killed my hair with bleach and died it green.” 

“Yeah, because green looks so good on you,” he chirps as he scowls at your dress. 

“Thanks, sir,” you smile, “but there is a point. I hated it. I got colour remover and managed to get to a decent brown.” 

“Colour remover?” He narrows his eyes. 

“Not as harsh as bleach but it stinks like rotten eggs. I think you could probably get at least a few shades lighter. And since it’s not green, you won’t go greener. Shouldn't.” 

He shifts his glare to the wall and his forehead pinches. His nose crinkles by his nostrils and he pokes his cheek with his tongue. He clucks and shakes his head. 

“Fine, go get it.” 

“Oh, uh, me? Sir--” 

“No one else is seeing me like this so go fucking get the remover,” he rolls his chair towards the desk and snatches up the wrap, “that shade of green makes my eyes bleed.” 

You give another gentle expression. You truly pity him. You’ve been there before. He was only trying to feel better about himself. To try something new. It happens, but you’re not so sure he should trust you to fix this one. 

There’s not much of a choice. You go back out to your desk and grab your iced tea and purse. Off to the pharmacy. It's kind of fun. An unexpected adventure to keep yourself from falling asleep. It’s exactly what you need. And who knows, if you can help Mr. Hansen get the inky dye out, he might lighten up. Literally.   

[rosesdrop]

Pick a pile

Messages from a loving source

(The loving source can be anything you feel loved by: angels, your guides, fs...)

Pile 1:

They want you to worry less about the things that bother you. Try and get more relaxed cause you may be a little bit more anxious these days. Spend more time alone, try to get more used to hearing your thoughts and listening to your heart, you need this more than anything currently. Maybe the fact that you're trying to control everything is taking from your power, they need for you to know that you should learn how to let everything roll the way it is, you have nothing to lose anyways. They know that deep down you are someone who is sure of themselves the same way that you are sure of this source's love for you and support, so they need you to put away the worries and embrace this loving energy fully.

Pile 2:

They recognize how accountable you hold yourself for everything, and that sometimes you surpass your limits to prove your point. You want to grow and sustain the good in you. You try to help everyone, sometimes you go out of your way to do that. You fight the bad aspects in you and they are proud of your effort. You have a fiery soul, a soul that can sometimes become aggressively persistent to express and reveal how raw and true it is for everyone to see. They want to tell you that you have the ability to do whatever you want, you have the strength to rule over your demons but persistence is needed, don't stop searching for answers, they will be revealed if you are eager enough.

Pile 3:

If you feel misunderstood by others, they want to let you know that they understand you, and they are protecting you from many storms. You may be a soft and fragile person, and you probably get drained easily from almost everything, you tend to let your emotions get to you. But this source has got you, you can turn to them whenever you want. Even the bitter acquaintances and unpleasant experiences you have with people/situations are actually some sort of protection shield around you. They want to make you learn how to be more balanced in your interactions (with pretty much everything not just people) to not get hurt or disappointed. They are a helping force to you, even when things seem bitter they are always next to you. They don't want you to be sorry or regretful about anything that happens at all, and that if you want it, everything can be at your favour.

[astroboots]

Every You Every Me | Issue #7

COLLABORATED WITH @thirstworldproblemss

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader

Summary: You finally get some answers out of Miguel about who you are to him.

Word count: 5,700 words.

Series Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist | Astroboot’s Masterlist | thirstworldproblemss' Masterlist

[Previous] [Next]

"So let's take it from the top," you tell him, as you sit down and put down the Trenta-sized caramel flavored hot chocolate with extra whipped cream and chocolate syrup in front of the man named Miguel O'Hara.

The two of you are sitting across from each other at a small booth at the nearest Starbucks you were able to find, seeing as you're homeless now, and there's nowhere else you could think of to go.

He's dressed in a large fitted hoodie that drapes down to his thighs. Where he's managed to find something that is oversized in length on him, you don't know because he's not exactly short.

"I'm from a dimension known as Earth-928," Miguel says.

Before he can continue, you raise one hand, and you can see his right eyebrow twitch unhappily at the interruption. 

"Yes?"

"Just to clarify, so we don't have another ‘coffee cake’ misunderstanding. When you say Earth-928, do you mean a different version of the Earth we’re on now? Or is this a habitable planet in another galaxy that happens to be partially named Earth?"

"It's a parallel universe characterized by distinct physical parameters and initial conditions, accounting for the diverse manifestations of our observable universe. So still Earth," he says, sweeping his gaze across the café, nose wrinkling the way one does when there's something off-putting in their vicinity. "Just a little bit less primitive."

Of course he would say that, wouldn't be able to resist the jab would he.

You peer up at him across the table. He is very technical and thorough with his explanations. But as grateful as you are for him finally being willing to answer your questions, you hadn't expected those answers to be quite so information dense. You need to pick your questions more carefully or you are going to have to go down the street to buy yourself a notebook in order to keep up.

"How did you end up on this Earth?" you ask.

"Where I'm from, I'm a scientist, a researcher. One of the things I studied was the theory of physical cosmology and the existence of the multiverse. My work was concentrated on the theoretical ability to navigate between distinct universes within a hypothetical multiverse–”

Ah shit, you should've been more narrow in your question. Should have asked him to simplify it a bit more for you. Because now you're sitting here blinking up at him, pretending you understand half of what he's saying. 

It makes sense that he’s STEM. He speaks like the type. Smart as hell with none of the social skills to gauge whether the other person is following the conversation. 

Listening to him reminds you of that time in college, when you'd walked into the wrong lecture hall, wound up in advanced chemistry instead of your math class, felt too awkward to leave and just sat there drawing doodles with an attentive expression until the class was over. 

And he’s still at it, “– employing advanced mechanisms that manipulate or transcend conventional spacetime frameworks, enabling exploration–"

"Okay, wait, hold on a sec," you interrupt, once it becomes obvious he’s not going to stop any time soon on his own. "Can you... simplify, please?"

He stops mid-sentence, taking a deep breath as he looks up at the ceiling and considers your request, with a serious expression as if he's thinking really hard on it. "I’m a scientist. I study the multiverse. I built a parallel universe traversal device, it allows me to visit different dimensions." Your brain feels insulted that it clearly took more mental effort for him to dumb it down for you than to just give the supergenius version.

“So… a machine that allows you to jump between alternative universes?” 

“Yes.” 

There’s a pause between you as you run through the questions in your mental list you want to tick off now that he’s turned cooperative and talkative. But with everything that’s happened in the last handful of hours, a lot of the questions you previously had seemed outdated. The one question, the most important one, you’ve wanted to ask from the start though remains. 

"Who am I to you?"

Miguel takes the large sized drink in his even larger hands and somehow this big paper cup still manages to look tiny in his grip. "You and I were... involved," he says.

You frown. ‘Involved’ is such a vague term. It belongs in the trash with other useless terms to describe relationships: “situationship”, “complicated”, you hate them all. 

"So I was your girlfriend?"

"Yeah, something like that," he concede, fidgeting with the thin gold chain looped around his neck, his eyes not quite meeting yours, like he's embarrassed to use the term.

‘Something like that,’ you chew on his answer unhappily, sympathizing with your other dimensional self and how the other you seemed to have snagged a commitment phobe. 

Other-you, who isn’t here in this dimension with Miguel. You wonder why that is. 

"What happened to me?" you ask.

His eyes are glued to the table,  not looking up at you as he answers you in a voice so quiet you can barely hear it. "She died."

"Oh."

The revelation shouldn’t take you by surprise. 

Every time Miguel’s brought up your other self, it’s been tinted with earth-shattering sadness. It's not hard to put one and one together and come to the conclusion that whatever happened to you in this other dimension didn't end happily.

Still it's an odd feeling to know that out there, somewhere, a version of you has died. A version of you that was clearly very important to the man in front of you.

"I'm sorry," you tell him.

It feels silly to say. It's bizarre to give your condolences over your own parallel death, but Miguel looks so heartbroken. He’s slumped in his seat, large shoulders rounded until his frame looks so much smaller than you're used to, and you don't know what else to do.

"So what is happening to me now," you start, not sure how to word what the phenomena that you're going through is, "these continuous near-death experiences, is that how she died?"

"Yeah."

"And do you know why that... kept happening to her? Why is it happening to me?"

"I don't, and I don't know how to stop it. Believe me I tried."

He cradles the paper cup in his hands, the grip a little bit tighter now until he's creasing the paper and the caramel liquid oozes and leaks from the top.

"What I do know is that the universe isn’t going to stop trying to kill you, no matter what you do. And with every near death incident you manage to survive, these incidents will escalate in nature, until..." he stops, eyes flickering away from the cup to meet yours, but it's like he loses courage and doesn't want to say the last part.

"Until, what?" you prompt.

"Until your dimension collapses."

The blood freezes in your veins. "Wait, collapses!? What do you mean?"

"I can't guarantee it will happen again. But that's what happened last time. When the other you kept cheating death, the universe eventually started to collapse in on itself."

You slump back in your chair, trying to process what you've just been told. What does that mean? That even if you managed to defy all odds to survive, doing so would doom the rest of this universe as you know it?

"When will that happen?" you ask, and you're surprised you manage to get the words out because there is a hard lump in your throat that makes it hurt to even swallow.

"Judging from the trajectory and escalation of events, you have about three months give or take."

The two of you sit in heavy silence, for the moment you're not sure what else to ask him. Because it feels like you are trapped in a building looking for an exit sign, but all that’s tacked onto the brick wall is your death certificate, waiting to be signed and formalized.

There’s no way out. Nowhere to go.

"Give me your hand," he says, breaking the silence. 

You give it to him without hesitation, watching, puzzled, as he takes off his watch and secures it around your wrists.

"Why are you giving me your watch?"

"It's not a watch," he says, then he presses something on the face of it, and an image of a young woman flickers into existence in the space above your wrist, vaguely see-through. A hologram!

"This is Lyla," he introduces.

Wait, wait? Lyla? As in your mom Lyla? You watch the tiny woman floating above your wrist. Short bob-cut, and flashy heart-shaped sunglasses, with a twinkle in her eye. 

The hologram looks nothing like your mom. You part your mouth, about to ask about the name but you're interrupted by the energetic buzz of a female voice greeting you.

"Boss-girl! Long time no see. Want me to catch you up on the latest multiversal gossip? I compiled an edit of highlights set to Despacito."

"Lyla," Miguel warns, tersely. "Not now."

"Ruuuuude! You're the one who woke me up you know."

"Lyla, go back to sleep."

The female avatar grumbles, but then her image flickers away and the watch turns back into, as far as you can tell, just an ordinary watch.

"Why did you name the watch Lyla?"

"It's not a– " He cuts himself off, sighing with exasperation. "Lyla is an advanced A.I. she's going to be with you at all times. She's an added layer of security, built to protect you."

He didn't answer your question. Completely sidestepped it as if the two of you are having two different conversations.

Built to protect you, he'd said. Does that mean he still intends to do that?

"So you're not going to leave?" you ask him.

He leans back in his seat, eyes drifting towards the table. "No."

You look up at him, stumped. Not sure you're understanding what he's saying. Because not even a few hours ago, when the two of you were in your apartment, this man was adamant there was nothing to be done to save you. That he was going to leave and you were never going to see him again.

Right now though, his actions seem to be contradictory to that. You can't make heads or tails of him. Hot and cold doesn’t even begin to cover it. 

"Why not?" you ask, "I mean, not that I’m not grateful, but you seemed pretty set on the whole ‘I can’t save you’ thing. What changed your mind?"

“You did.” His eyes narrow as he looks down at you, crossing his arms ever his chest, "You told me you wanted to live. Have you changed your mind already?"

“Wha– NO! I just want to know why you changed yours.”

“I–” He hesitates, another wave of sadness passing over his face. “I’m a superhero. I save people… or try to. It’s what I do. I’m not gonna just leave you to die after you tell me you want to live.”

It’s a good answer, even if you don’t buy that it’s the whole truth. 

You look down at your wrist, and the shiny chrome of the not-watch he's just gifted you winks back up at you. "Do you think I have a chance of surviving all this?"

"It's pretty hopeless," he says, and there’s no break in his expression as he continues. "Your chances of making it out alive are pretty much mathematically impossible."

It's odd though. Even though he's outlining the futility of your situation, basically telling you to raise the white flag and surrender, there's something contradictory in the tone of his voice. 

"What do you want to do?" he asks you.

It’s a challenge, you realize. An encouragement. He has faith in you. It's all of these things rolled into one. As if he's telling you to prove the universe wrong.

"I want to live," you answer. "If the universe collapses in three months, then please stay with me. Give me time to solve this and find a way to stay alive."

His mouth curls into a hint of a smile. The very first you've seen from him since you've met. It's bright and boyish, erasing the harsh lines of his stern expression until it gives way for something much softer underneath that makes your heart leap in your chest with triumph.

You grin, a strange elation of happiness buzzing in you as you stretch out your hand to him, in an invitation for a handshake to seal the deal.

"Deal?"

Miguel leans over the table, clasping your hand in his much larger one as he squeezes it back gently.

"Deal." That small smile from before is still there. "So what's next?" he asks.

The thing you never realized, being an ordinary person bereft of super genes or other superhuman powers is just how convenient commuting can be if you have them. 

No longer do you have to brave the Lynchian nightmare that is the NYC subway system. Half-naked manic street preachers giving sermons as you’re held hostage, with nowhere else to go in the carriage. Being chased down by a drunk trumpeting Mariachi band. Instead, all you need to do to get from point A to point B (A: being the Chrysler building and B: the building formerly known as your home) is to hold on tight to Miguel as he swings you both above the city gridlock.

You imagine that this is what paragliding must feel like, except it's so much better because here you don't have to do the safety training beforehand or pay $3,000 for the privilege.

The city skyline is a dark evening blue, dotted with the sparkling lights of office buildings, cab roof lights and street lamps, as the wind ruffles through the fabric of your clothes.

It's such a different sight when you're flying above instead of walking on the streets below, that you don't even clock that you're in your neighborhood, until you see a building with a collapsed wall that's been blocked off, looking like a crash site. Only then do you realize... you're home.

Miguel carefully sets you down on your feet on a small patch of concrete that is clear of the rubble and destruction.

"Why did you want to come back here again?" he asks. 

It’s a good question. Now that you're here, standing in the middle of charred debris and cracked bricks, you're not sure either. You had some vague plans of seeing what you could salvage, hoping for some clothes, maybe your electric toothbrush, or really just any of your stuff. Something that’s yours, no matter how small, to hold on to after the events of today have ripped away life as you know it.

But there’s nothing left. The furniture, all your books and knick knacks, and even your dirty laundry piles have been demolished. Your home as you know it is gone. There's only piles and piles of rubble and traces of white fire extinguisher foam on the ground. The fire has been out for hours, but the pungent smell of smoke and sulfur still pervades the air. 

"You okay?" Miguel asks.

He's still standing at the outer edges of the apartment, close to where your window would have been if a helicopter hadn't crashed through it.

"Yeah... I guess the silver lining is that I didn't have anything expensive. Though it'd been nice if I could've saved my mom's Le Creuset set or at least the nanny-cam so I could return it and get a refund," you joke glibly. 

You nudge aside some concrete rubble with the cap of your shoes. There's nothing under there, no treasured memorabilia that's still miraculously intact. Just more burnt concrete and rubble.

"Why did you have a nanny cam?"

You turn around at his question, to see him hovering close to you, one eyebrow raised with an unhappy set to his jaw. 

From the displeased expression on his face, he's probably misunderstanding something here. Probably thinks you're operating a very unlucrative Onlyfans business, when what you've really been doing is spy on him and his nightly visits. You don't know which is worse to confess to, so you don't confess to anything.

"No reason," you say, ignoring the way his already raised eyebrow twitches with irritation at your lack of an answer.

"Come on, let's go," he says, and he waves towards you in a come hither motion like he's commanding a dog.

"Go?" you ask him. "It's past midnight. My place, as you can see, is wrecked. Go where exactly?"

Miguel shoots you a strange look. "A hotel," he says, like it's the most obvious thing, and– okay, he's not completely wrong in that assumption.

Problem is, you didn't have time to pick up your wallet or phone before your impromptu interdimensional visit. They’ve been incinerated along with all the rest of your worldly possessions, which means you don't have any way to pay for a hotel.

Plus Manhattan hotel prices average $400 a night. Even if you still had access to your debit cards, your budget’s pretty tight right now after all the capital you invested in your unhinged quest to trap the superhero before you. 

"In the city? I don't have that kind of money and it will take months for any insurance payouts to come in."

You should know. As an insurance claims adjuster, you know you’ll be lucky if your claim is processed before the end of the year. And, ugh, just the thought of the paperwork you’ll have to fill out is enough to give you an anxiety migraine.

"I’ll cover the room," Miguel says casually before holding out a hand to you, "Come on, let’s go."

When Miguel said he’d cover it, you expected a reasonably-priced room at one of the Days Inn across the river or the like. Hopefully a place with no rats or bed bugs, and maybe clean bedding over a somewhat comfortable mattress for you to pass out on if you were lucky.

You didn't expect this.

Standing in front of the Midtown Four Seasons, you find yourself on sleek marble so polished you can see your own reflection. You haven't even stepped a foot inside yet and there are two old fashioned doormen, wearing immaculately fitted suits, with an even more impressive posture opening the majestic double-set doors for you as you approach.

It's swanky as hell, and you can’t help gawking like a tourist, eyes glued to the decadent carved ceilings that must be at least 30 feet tall, soaring above you. Honey-colored limestone that looks like it’s been looted from Ancient Rome.

You feel more than a little bit out of place. This is way outside of your budget. You could probably work your job for a lifetime, and not have enough disposable income to stay the night at a place like this.

"Uhm, Miguel... this place is way too–" you start, turning towards him.

But as you were busy lamenting the state of the housing market, he's already walked away from you (for such a bulky guy, he moves swiftly and silently) and as you whip your head around to find him, he's already standing in front of the receptionist.

Damned antelope legged man, would it kill him to wait up for you once in a while? You run up after him and have to tip-toe in order to see over his shoulder because the giant mammoth is blocking the check-in counter.

And wow, even the receptionist here is of a different caliber than the ones you'd find at Holiday Inn. A fashionable bob-cut with razor sharp edges, looking like a model cut out from a Vogue cover.

"Do you have a reservation, Sir?"

You half-expect him to say no, and that the two of you would have to tuck your tail between your legs and walk out of here to the backdrop of a sad trombone playing.

To your astonishment he says your name. The receptionist tip-taps away at her keyboard and then she nods and smiles gracefully at you both. 

"Yes of course. After reviewing your reservation details, I am pleased to inform you that all necessary arrangements have already been made, including advance payment and verification of your identification. Your room is ready for you, we trust you will enjoy your stay."

She flashes you a pearly white smile so shiny it's almost blinding and hands you a hotel key card. 

When you turn around, to your confusion Miguel is no longer next to you. How does he keep disappearing like this? 

"Cielito," Miguel’s voice calls. The nickname doesn’t register at first. It doesn't even occur to you that he’s referring to you, until he barks it out a second time. 

Your head darts up to see him standing by the elevator, tapping his feet impatiently as he waits for you to make it over to him.

"How did you do that?" you whisper loudly to him as you step into the elevator. "Where did you get my ID? How did you make a reservation? How did you--"

He takes your hand, mid-sentence, turning your wrist upwards and taps the watch.

"The computer systems in this universe are child's play for Lyla to manipulate. Reservations, money, ID, she can take care of all of that easily," he explains.

"She can do that?" you ask, and Miguel merely nods at you as the elevator closes behind the two of you.

You tip your head down to inspect your gifted watch. In awe of this technical marvel that would make Siri look like it’s from the stone-ages. You wonder if she can boost your credit scores. She could probably hack any wi-fi password so you'd never have to worry about data throttling again. She could get you table reservations for Libertine! The possibilities are endless!

You turn to Miguel. "Can Lyla get me Beyoncé tickets?" you ask. 

He just shakes his head at you with what almost qualifies as an amused smile.

The room upstairs is massive. 

It’s easily three times the size of your little studio apartment, and the ceilings are twice as tall, with a hanging glass chandelier that’s sparkling bright enough to blind you. It looks like one of those places featured in Architectural Digest. 

Everything is in an art deco style, with expensive looking furniture and even more expensive art hanging on the one spare wall that isn’t covered in floor to ceiling windows. There are large shelves and a sleek looking kitchen, complete with an opulent looking velvet lounge chair of emerald green that looks like something a Roman emperor would be fed grapes on. 

In this colossal space of a room, there is only one bed. One colossal, plush-mattress-topped, goose down duvet and probably 1,000,000,000 thread count sheet covered bed.

You tense up, not sure what the arrangements Miguel had in mind. Did he want the two of you to sleep in the same bed?

Miguel did pay for the room, so you’re not going to start voicing objections. After all, it wouldn’t be the first time in the short time span that you two have known each other to do that. This bed is also a lot wider than your tiny double bed, so it wouldn’t be the cramped disaster it was last night. You’d just have to make sure to use the bathroom before bed this time so he doesn’t jab your full bladder in the morning again. 

Without saying anything, Miguel strides across the length of the room with impatient and determined steps. His hand reaches for the balcony doors and slides them open. 

"Wait wait, where are you going?" you ask him as you run up to the middle of the room. 

“I’m sleeping outside,” he says over his shoulder, and your mind boggles with that. 

“Why? Isn’t it better for you to stay here?”

"This is the 62nd floor. That’s about as safe as you’re going to get. I’ll keep a lookout to make sure no more helicopters come crashing in.” 

You’re not sure if he means the last part as a joke or not, but as you watch his broad back retreating as he walks away from you, a sickening sort of the deja vu twists through your chest. 

I can’t save you, he’d said back in your apartment, Nothing can. 

The feeling clawing at your chest feels alarmingly like panic. It screams that he’s leaving you. That he’s never coming back. That you’ll never see him again. 

You’re being irrational, and you know it. You remind yourself that he wouldn’t have done this much for you only to bail in the middle of the night, but that doesn’t stop the fear that’s festering, sharp and urgent, under your skin, or the way your heart races, your whole body flashing hot and cold at the same time. 

You want him to stay. 

“Miguel,” you call out, and he immediately stops and turns to look back at you, one eyebrow raised in a skeptical question. 

Please stay. 

You open your mouth, but the words won’t come out. You can’t ask this man—this big, sarcastic, rude hulk of a man—to have a sleepover with you because you’re scared to be alone in the dark. He would laugh you out of the hotel room.

“Uhm… thank you,” you say instead, but it’s no less sincere, “For everything.”

His eyes soften, the sharp narrowness of them easing up. “It’s fine,” he mumbles, and despite the cold chill of the evening, you think you can see a faint flush blooming in his cheeks, before he quickly ducks his face from you. “I’ll be right outside if something happens.” 

He turns back around and walks out, closing the patio doors with a gentle click behind him, leaving you by yourself. 

It’s quiet. 

You survey the empty room you’re in. Without Miguel’s large frame taking up space, it seems even bigger than it did before. 

It’s a beautiful room. Something that you’re pretty sure you’ve seen in a movie set. You don’t know why you’re not as excited as you were before. This is you living your Pretty Woman moment. You should be filling up the big jacuzzi tub you saw with bubbles. Heck, maybe ask Lyla to order you a bottle of champagne from room service. 

Instead, your eyes linger on the glass patio doors leading to the balcony terrace. You walk over to the bed, perching yourself down on the edge of the mattress, then flop down. 

Might as well try to sleep, you think to yourself as you climb under the covers and switch off the light. The best thing you can do right now is catch yourself some rest so you’ll be alert while trying to figure out your next steps tomorrow.

3 months… That’s what Miguel told you.

That’s all the time you have left. 

That means you don’t have time to waste, but you also have no idea where to start. The local library doesn’t exactly carry any resources on how to stop the universe from trying to kill you. 

The Universe. 

An infinite cosmos, grander than any human being can possibly comprehend. This vast space containing all the galaxies with its billions of stars and planets, where an individual being does not even register as a speck, and it wants you dead. How can you possibly fight against those odds? 

You lie wide-eyed and awake staring into the dark of the room, and the feeling of dread gnaws into you. 

You don’t want to be alone right now. Turning in the bed, your eyes find their way back to the blank slate of the pitched night outside the balcony doors. 

You really wished he had stayed with you. 

Sitting upright in the bed, you consider your options. You can lie back down. Suffer insomnia and the existential horror of knowing the universe is trying to murder you. Or you can man up, swallow down whatever tiny morsel of your pride you have left and ask Miguel to come back inside and stay with you. 

Flinging the duvet from your body, you get up to walk over to the balcony. You hesitate for a moment before tapping the window pane the way you might knock on a door, giving a polite head's up before you slide the balcony patio open. But when you poke your head out, turning your head left and right, Miguel's nowhere to be found. 

Okay, that’s weird. He said he’d be right outside if you needed him. You walk up to the ledge of the balcony terrace, leaning over the rail and peer down to see him dangling upside down, from the ledge of your balcony. The sight nearly makes you scream. 

"Miguel!” 

At you calling his name, he pulls himself up, one clawed hand gripping at the concrete wall as he climbs his way up and over to you. He makes it look easy, as if gravity does not exist for him, and it’s only a moment until he’s perched on the ledge of the balcony, facing you. 

“What’s wrong?” he demands, eyes concerned, and you’re suddenly aware of how very close he is. His face mere inches from yours, your noses nearly touching.

“What’s wrong? You’re hanging upside down from the 62nd floor! What are you, a bat?!"

“Why did you come out here?” he clarifies, and his words give you pause. You try to gather your thoughts after the bizarre sight you just walked into and remember what you came out here for. 

He’s still looking at you with his full and intense concentration that makes your skin prickle with warmth.

God, it’s embarrassing to ask. You feel like you’re five years old, asking your parents to turn the nightlight on, even though you know you’re a big girl now and aren’t supposed to be afraid of monsters hiding under your bed any more. 

You look down on your hands, where you’re wringing them together, then back up at him, and make yourself spit it out, "Could you… maybe… stay with me tonight?" 

His eyes widen at your question, but he doesn’t actually answer you and gives you no physical indication one way or the other. 

"I feel safer when you're with me,” you admit. 

“I am with you out here,” he counters, because of course he can’t make this easy for you.  

“I can’t see you out here.”

The line of his shoulder eases, and he ducks his head down with a resigned sigh. "Fine. Get back inside, Cielito. You're going to catch a cold like this."

You shuffle back inside to your bed, watching out of the corner of your eye as  he follows you inside and settles himself on the lounge sofa. He’s so tall that his feet are sticking out over the armrests, like a long-legged stork. 

Hiding a smile, you climb back into bed, wrapping the bedding all around yourself.

“Good night,” you call out, and he makes a grumpy noise of acknowledgment. 

Your head drops back onto the soft pillow, and you close your eyes, ready to sleep. It’s such a nice bed. The sheets are cool and soft against your skin and smell of fresh eucalyptus. The mattress is the most comfortable you ever remember resting on, firm but somehow soft at the same time. You feel like you’re sleeping on a cloud. 

Moments go by, and you revel in the sumptuous bed, waiting for the best sleep of your life to claim you. 

Except it doesn’t. 

Somehow… you still can’t fall asleep. Is it… too soft maybe? You turn in the bed, twisting your torso to get into a position you can comfortably sink into, but something doesn’t feel right. There’s no lumpiness like at home, but that should be a good thing. 

Except… despite the decadent softness of the bed. Despite the fact that the sheets probably have a thread count with more zeros than your checking and savings accounts combined. Despite all of the luxury that surrounds you, you still find yourself tossing and turning and wide fucking awake.

The bed is too big. You don’t know what to do with all this space. Your body is not accustomed to this sort of decadence. What if you suffocate sinking into this soft fluffy pillow in your sleep? What if you toss and turn until you fall off this massive bed and break your neck? Maybe that’s how out of all of the universe’s attempts to kill you, you end up dying? 

Fuck! 

You can’t sleep. 

You turn to your side and stare into the velvet lounge chaise on the opposite side of your room, where Miguel is. 

Quietly, you pad up to his still form until you’re standing in front of him and hunch over, trying to decide how rude it would be to wake him up again when there's nothing he can do about your stupid insomnia anyway.

In the dim light, you spot something glinting at you. Looking closer, you notice that the thin chain looped around his neck has escaped his shirt to pool on the fabric of the sofa cushion under him. You gently drag the loose end of the necklace toward you, and find a smooth golden band threaded onto it.

Picking it up cautiously, you flip it in your hand and find that there's something engraved on the inside.  It's hard to see in the darkness, but when you lean closer and squint your eyes, you can just make out what it says.

'MO'—undeniably the initials of one Miguel O'Hara.

Twisting the ring slightly, you find a tiny plus sign followed by your own initials, and your heart drops into the pit of your stomach.

Oh.

The memory of sitting across Miguel at Starbucks returns to you, when you had asked him who you were to him. You think of the avoidant gaze and how he couldn't look you in the eye.

‘Something like that,’ huh?

Guess the other you wasn't just his girlfriend after all, you think, chest drawn so tight it’s painful.

Holding the wedding band in the palm of your hand, you slide down to sit down on the floor with your back pressed against the chaise lounge.

Your heart aches for the man in front of you and everything he's lost.  You really, really hope you're not going to end up as just another regret on his list.

~ Next Issue

Dedication & Credits: As always to my best friend @thirstworldproblemss I am half asleep and running on fumes. I'm wording things poorly but I just want you to know that I am very happy I have you. Thank you for being my friend and for the time we get to spend together. I have the most fun when I'm with you.

Also to @guruan who is my muse, my source of inspiration. This chapter is dedicated to her because have you seen this beautiful piece of artwork she did for EYEM?!

[bunniwords]

໑ৎ ׁ ׅ♡ ALIBI 🌀

part xxiv - masterlist - part xxvi xxv. skipped a few chapters

bunni speaks — tasldkfjadslf icb this but i think the next chapter is the last one… i’ll probably do an epilogue and a few side chapters because i love them so much, but it’s almost the end… im gonna cry

︶︶ 　 ˚ ᡴꪫ synopsis — you are known for your brain rot anime content on twitter. so much so that you caught the attention of txt’s soobin on his secret stan account and became mutuals. what will become of this new friendship?

more under the cut!

the rest of the week probably went by a little too fast for you. although you made the effort to see him after both your work schedules, the day he had to leave was anything but easy. 

“you’re leaving tomorrow,” you pouted. 

“i know,” he pouted along with you, “i wish i could take you with me.”

“you’ll text me everyday, right?” 

you could feel yourself cringing at yourself, asking that kind of question. never did you ever see yourself being clingy for a boy, but you can’t really say soobin was just any boy. 

“don’t i already do that?” he chuckled.

“okay, well, don’t feel like you have to text me throughout the day if you’re busy. i’m starting to feel bad about all the times i’ve probably bothered you,” you mumbled. 

soobin frowned and pulled you into his lap.

“you could never bother me,” he said as he tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear, “i still expect daily calls.”

your eyes lingered on his face even longer, trying to memorize every single bit of detail you could. it felt unfair that he had to leave already. 

“is there something on my face?” he asked. 

“no… i just want to make sure i remember what you look like this close,” you explained.

“i already wish i could be here again with you,” he muttered and stared at your features.

“stop looking at me like that. my heart is going to burst,” you chuckled while putting your palms over his eyes. 

“well, as long as i’m the only one making you feel that way,” soobin’s grin grew and even without his sight, he could tell how flustered you were. 

“were you always this smooth? i read your tweets! you were simping for me,” you tried teasing him, but he seemed to be shameless at this point. 

“you think i’m smooth?” 

“i’m leav—“

“no, you’re not!”

you squealed when you felt soobin’s strong arms hold you back down on his lap. your body toppled over his. soobin knew he had to savor these moments because it won’t be for a while before he could enjoy your presences again. 

[entername322]

Obsession

Irene (Red Velvet) x Male Reader

Length: 12860 words

Next part

Cool, calm, and collected, that's the three main thing Irene always remind herself to keep.

Navigating through the idol life she has to keep herself from losing hold of her emotions.

Keep a facade, use a mask, make sure nobody sees what she feel or think. These are the main thing she always try to do when it comes to interacting with other people off camera.

She hates men, it's not because they've done something to her. It's just that she find all the men that have tried to flirt or make a move on her has been thoroughly pathetic and frankly, disgusting.

After years of navigating through the idol's life she's been very adept at hiding her feelings.

The nickname ice queen doesn't particularly mind her by any means. However she would also be lying if she said that the nickname doesn't hurt her sometimes.

She does have feelings, she just finds that showing it off would be a bad idea.

That being said, the name has done nothing but skyrocket her popularity, and help her build an image for herself.

Her cold expression and attitude has help her deter some people from coming on to her.

Although that just means the people that do came on to her is the stupidest or the most arrogant of the bunch.

"Unnie come on, Yun is a great guy"  

That didn't stop her own friends and member to try and hook her up with someone though.

"Seung-ah, I'm thankful, I really do, but I'm really not looking for anyone right now"

Her own member, Wendy has tried to hook her up with some people recently. Irene hates this, she despise people who try to do that for her.

Wendy however, is her own member, so her motherly and loving side for her and the hatred for such actions leave Irene in turmoil on how to escapes this situation.

"Come on, one dinner, if things goes bad then I'll swear I'll never pester you about this ever again"

Irene's mind raced quickly, on one hand she's afraid accepting it would enables her other member to do the same. On the other an unpleasant night for a life time, well, a few months or year of peace isn't so bad.

"Fine"

She concluded that if others try to do the same she'll just bring up this incident. After all, if Wendy, one of the best at judging characters and the most sociable of them all, can't find someone who could match her taste, who else would?

Despite the consent she has gave her, on the night of the dinner, she felt a little regret.

This is gonna be a bad dinner

Of course, she tried to keep an open mind. She wouldn't want to ruin her own friends effort with prejudice.

She did her research, looking at the man online. His social media, his occupation, okay maybe it's a little to creepy, but she can't help herself.

On paper, everything is fine, he's an accountant to a big law firm. Late 20s, been in a few relationships. He keeps his exes photo on his Instagram, and seeing his recent post he seems to still hangout with them.

Most of the pictures is group photo so it most probably means that he still hangout with the circle of friends without any issue.

Looks wise, he's average. Irene doesn't have a high standard by any means, she just hangout with some of the most beautiful idols around her work. Compared to them, he's average, which means he's pretty good looking for the general public.

So what's the red flag? Irene doesn't know herself, it's just, she doesn't have any interest in him.

Most of the thing she find about him just leave an 'oh' in her mind. Not bad 'oh' or a good 'oh' just 'oh'.

Nevertheless, she went to the dinner, a reservation at the 2 Michelin star restaurant. She enjoys this kinds of food, not that she's materialistic, she just have a taste for expensive things. Okay she might be a little materialistic, a bit more than what she would admit.

"Hello, I'm David, it's nice to meet you"

The man was waiting for her at the reserved table already.

Quite and secluded place at the corner of the room, away from the windows that the paparazzi could use.

This is a two Michelin star restaurant, even the worst seat is better than the one in most places.

"Hello, Seung talk alot about you"

Give a little smile, shake his hand, sit at your seat. Don't try to be hostile or too friendly. Observe him.

"I must say, I'm a big fan of your work, it's very surprising that Wendy would offer me this opportunity"

A genuine smile, no signs of nervousness. Irene, doesn't have any strong feeling about that confidence, but it does leave some impression for her to note.

"Well, Seung is, very social, she likes introducing her friends to each other"

Perhaps that trait of her have left Irene in some awkward and uncomfortable situation. Of course Irene would never say this out loud.

"So, should we order?"

Chatty, this man is chatty. It does bring a little relive for Irene. She prefers someone who would take over the conversation and alleviate some burden from her.

It also means he might slip up and say more than what he meant, which is perfect for her since she's observing him.

"..... And it was pretty funny actually. How about you? Did Wendy ever brought you to an awkward situation like that?"

He was talking about how Seung once tried to hook him up with a distant cousins of him.

"Not really, although I'm not really good at meeting new people"

"Well, I used to as well, but being dragged into a lot of social gatherings I've been.... Forced to adapt. There's this one time...."

The dinner was fine, things has been going well, Irene was surprised herself that he was pretty charming.

"Sorry if I talk alot, I tend to do it if I was nervous"

"It's fine, sorry if I didn't talk much either"

"Of course, it's my pleasure to, you know, have a chance to sit here with you-"

His phone buzzed.

"Sorry, just a moment"

Picking it up, he opened his newly received text. It was a nude picture of a woman.

Irene saw it and raised her eyebrow, how does she saw it? Well, the little painting behind him gave a little reflection.

Not a noticeable one, but her eyes is one of a hawk, never missing any small detail.

He answered the text, something Irene can't see, before looking back at her.

"Sorry, work stuff"

Hmmm, off putting, but since she doesn't see his response she wouldn't mind putting the benefit of the doubt, slightly.

"It's fine, you were talking about your first year at the law firm you're currently working on?"

The conversation continues smoothly, almost like the little hiccup from before never happened.

In fact, Irene was throughly surprised that things went well.

"So, that was a nice dinner"

"Yes, it was"

"It's been nice talking with you Irene"

"Me too"

The two gather up their thing and ready to leave. As they walk out, David did the sinful and unforgivable act in Irene's book. He put his hand on her shoulder, almost leading her.

"How about we continue our talk at my place, it was fun, and the night is still young"

Confident, so much so he thinks that he could bring me to his place after the first date? On a blind date on top of that?

"Sorry, I have an early schedule"

Irene smiled again, unlike the others one she gave ro him during the dinner, this one is an annoyed smile. Not that he would notice it.

"Oh come on, you're a senior already, just break the rule a little bit"

"I'm, really sorry, it's an important meeting"

"Come on, not even a kiss?"

Men.

The next day Irene came to work in a bad mood.

"So, how does it go?"

Wendy said the moment she saw her leader.

"Morning Seung"

"Come on, spill, I told you he's great"

"He was, until he tried to talk me into spending time in his place"

"He did?"

"Things are fine until the end of the dinner"

"Oh shit, sorry unnie, he's not Korean, things are, different in the-"

"Seung, I don't, I don't like the vibe he gave me at the end"

Wendy frowned, from disappointment, although she's not sure it was directed to Irene or David.

"I'll.... Okay, I understand"

"Sorry Seung, he seems like a great guy, but he's too aggressive for me"

"Yeah, I get it"

"Anyway, what's the plan for today?"

"Well, beside the photoshoot at noon me and Seulgi-unnie is going to meet some of the trainee that we have. There's some promising people our produce said"

Checking in on the trainee is something a lot of the idols do in SM. Even Irene has done it a few time before.

"Can I come with you?"

"Sure, come on"

The two of them went to meet up with Seulgi at their designated dressing room.

"Unnie is coming too?"

Irene nodded.

"Well let's go, I'm gonna be the dance instructor for today"

The group of three went to the trainee practice room.

As soon as they got in the rowdy buch of kids got quiet. Entranced by the three women.

"Morning everyone, I'm Seulgi from Red Velvet, today I'll be your dance instructor"

Seulgi's word cause a wave of panic between the trainees face.

"Don't be nervous, I'll try my best to help you all. As you may have know these are my members, Irene and Wendy, they will be watching us today. Don't panic, they are simply watching us"

Irene's eyes scanned the room,watching and observing the expression. None seems to stand out for her, until she saw you.

You, were not by any means an outstanding person. Not the most handsome, not the prettiest or the cutest. You do standout a little due too your absurd height, not that it shown when you sit down.

Was she looking at me? No, come on now man, don't get your hopes up, that's Irene.

But she did in fact, looking at you. Long enough for her to get into a trace, short enough to where nobody's watching pick on it.

Irene was, stunned, she wasn't sure why. Her eyes was just locked in place as she saw you.

Thankfully Wendy nudges her, waking her up from her daze. Wendy pulled her to the side, a nice place so they can watch the trainees.

"Okay, come on, stand up, let's start"

Irene's eyes is locked to you, watching your every movement.

Tall

That's the first thing she thinks about the first time she saw you stood up.

Her heart was racing, what are you doing to her? You didn't say anything, you didn't even acknowledge her more than you should.

Yet, somehow, you caught her attention.

She was too entranced to hear the instructions Seulgi is giving.

She did realised it when you started dancing along the others. Your movement was stiff, not unsalvageable. Your expression is one of full focus, something that does nothing but daze her even more.

"That's great, now, let's do individual test"

While others are panicking you were looking straight at Seulgi with contemplative gaze.

You looked away for a second, to gaze on Irene. Just a second, but it's enough to cause Irene's heart to skip a beat.

"Now, let's go, who want to start first?"

One particular trainee seems excited and enthusiastic, he raised his hand.

The others moved back, now facing Irene and Wendy, watching one by one getting called out to do a dance routine.

Wendy was cheering and giving words of encouragement every now and then to each participant. Seulgi gave a polite yet stern comments.

Irene was, well, she's busy watching you.

Enough for you to feel a little uncomfortable.

"What's up blue?"

"I don't know, I'm just nervous, that's Irene bro"

"Fuck I knew, I'm gonna embarrass myself in front of my favourite idol"

"What about me man, I was in the zone before and I still look like a dancing stickman"

"You'll do fine man, just, be confident"

"Yeah, you too bro. Do you, do you feel like Irene is watching at us?"

Your friend took a quick glance to Irene, however she was watching the trainee that's dancing right now.

"Nah man, but I know what you mean, she's definitely watching all of us"

That's, not what you mean at all. You look back at Irene, seemingly busy watching the one being tested right now.

Was it just your imagination?

It wasn't, Irene read your lips, realising you might caught up with her intense stare she looked away to make sure you didn't get suspicious.

She still watch you from the corner of your eyes. Not until you look away did she turned to continue watching her.

Suddenly, this becomes a cat and mouse game where both of you tried to look at each other without being noticed by the other.

You, failing miserably, there's like 6 times in 5 minutes where you were looking at her only to find her gaze at you back before you could look away.

Irene was cool, calm and collected, even in the event of stalking someone. Not a single time you realise that Irene was watching you. Even though she has watch you more than you watch her.

When your time is up, anxiety and fear take over you. Nervously you walked to the front.

"Let's go blue"

Your bro have your back thankfully.

"Don't be nervous"

Seulgi smiled to calm you down, doesn't help.

The music kicks in, and you start your dance.

While you were haphazardly dance, Irene was having a little joy in her heart. She now can watch you throughly without having to avert her gaze every now and then.

Your movement wasn't terrible, just bad. That doesn't seems to bother her the slightest. In fact, she find it cute.

Wait, hold on, cute?

Really?

Irene ws confused, how those those words come up at her mind. During her confusion you managed to finish your dance.

"Well, that was a good effort, but I can see you're still a little awkward at dancing. Is it perhaps due too your height that you are less flexible?"

Irene decided to put it at the back of her mind so that she can focus back on you.

"Y-y-yeah, it was, a bit hard for me to do those delicate move"

Your stuttering seems to sent a rush of alien feelings in Irene.

"It's okay, you memorize the dance already and you seems to know when you messed up yet you still have the clear mind to continue on with your moves. Do a little more flexibility training and you will fix it"

Seulgi's word of encouragement put a smile on your face. A smile Irene is not enjoying.

"Yeah, you did good, keep up the hard work"

Having two encouragement from your future possible senior put you in a good mood.

"Thank you for the instructions and the encouragement"

You bowed, again giving smile to Seulgi who returned it beautifully. Irene does not like your smile. You then glanced at Wendy and her. Irene loves that smile.

As you sat back, stunned by the newfound motivation. Irene is stunned, having your smile imprinted in her brain and memory.

"Hell yeah blue"

Your bro gave you a fistbump before getting ready for his turn.

You glanced back to Irene, this time she wasn't hiding her gaze.

Your eyes meet, at that moment, time seems to stop. Both for you and Irene.

Your mind raced at a few million miles an hour, your heart stopped alongside the time. Irene, is looking at you, with a..... Best described as longing look.

Holy fuck she's dangerous, how did I managed to stay focus during the dance? Gosh she's pretty, is she prettier then when you saw her on screen? I should look away now

.

.

.

Why am I not looking away?

Irene was having the similar thoughts. Enthralled by your gaze, your eyes seemingly to be a bottomless abyss that drawns her. Her breathing got heavy, her heart thumping faster than she ever felt before.

What are you doing to me?

Then, just like it never happens, you two both look away.

You stare blankly to the wall, trying to keep your brain from coming up with impossible imagination.

Irene was staring at the floor, trying to keep her heart from going wild and burst.

In your stuppor, your friend managed to finish his dance and got a compliment by Seulgi and sat back with you.

"Fuck I thought I was gonna faint"

Yeah, you too, you stood up and went to the exit. You need to wash your face.

Irene was in a panic as she saw you leave. A weird unknown panic.

She stood up, following you soon after.

While you were washing your face and try to clear your face, Irene was waiting outside the practice room.

Your steps and heavy and loud, it's given due to he fact of how tall you are. Despite your lean stature your body still weights enough to make some loud foot steps.

The moment Irene hears your footsteps she slowly walked to the bathroom. Trying to make it look like she's going to the bathroom as well.

You were stunned again the moment you walk out, seeing Irene walking to the bathroom from a distance away.

Awkwardly you walk back to your room, once you were close enough Irene took away her eyes from her phone and look at you.

With a nervous smile you bowed to her. However as you wanted to continue walking Irene stop, next to you, looking at you.

Subconsciously, you stopped as well, again, meeting your gaze with her.

Irene wasn't sure herself why she stopped. She even put her hand behind her, hiding her phone and her nervous finger that keep jolting around.

"Blue? Is that your name?"

Her mouth moves before her brain can think.

"Ehmmm, y-y-yes, that's what everyone call me"

Your attempt to smile only made you look like a grimacing in pain.

"Don't be so nervous"

Irene however find this cute, your nervousness is amusing to her.

"I'm sorry, it's just that....."

"That?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, it's just that, I was a big fan of you and Red Velvet, so seeing you here feels..... Surreal"

The smile on Irene's face seems to grow even larger.

"Really? A big fan huh? So who's your bias then?"

Is she crazy? How could I say anyone else but her at this moment?

"Ehm, it's you"

Oh god, your nervousness, your shy smile, your blush, your words. It dragged Irene, deep into a dark place that she doesn't know she have in her heart.

"Really?"

Her voice raise a few octaves, not that you realized, you're busy trying not to faint out of embarrassment.

"Yes"

She loves it, she loves your demeanour.

Irene has met countless idols and fans that stammered and stunned the moment they see her. She have grown accustomed to it. Yet you, above thousands of encounters that she has, managed to leave such an impression to her mind, forever.

"That's good to hear, don't be so nervous, I'm not gonna bite"

She wants to, she really, really, really wants to do it, but it's not like she has lose control of herself.... yet.

"Oh sorry, I'm just, not good at handling my nervousness"

You reached to the back your neck. There was, a small, feeling, barely noticeable. A voice saying this nervousness is not just a simple nervousness.

You didn't realise it, it was barely noticeable in the first place. With the ice queen herself standing in front of you there could be a fire happening and you wouldn't even react to it.

Irene, was watching you, as you bring up your hand, the long sleeve of your sweater falls down.

Your exposed forearm made her eyes locked to it. Of course working out a little you have a decent body, but looking at your, somewhat impressive forearm, Irene was enamored.

"I'm sorry, thank you for spending your time to check in on us, it really means a lot"

You smiled again, and for Irene, it broke her heart to a million pieces before it brought itself back together and got inflated so big that it burst.

"It's fine, I'm sorry I didn't put in any comments. I.... Have a lot in my mind"

You, you were in her mind.

Irene tighten her grip on her phone, thankfully her slender and delicate fingers is not strong enough to break it.

"Oh, no, not at all, don't be sorry, it was more than enough to have you, spend some time to watch us. It was an honour for us"

You raised both your hand in front of you waving it to make sure it's okay. This cause Irene to watch both of your forearm. Remember that thing about self control? Yeah, it's slipping away slowly.

"Really? You mean it?"

Irene stepped forward causing you subconsciously stepped back.

"Y-y-yeah"

Irene felt her heart thumping so loud it might cause her to be deaf.

"Then, do you mind if I watch you again so I can help guide you?"

Just like a black hole you keep pulling Irene to come closer. Unlike a black hole you stepped back again. This time your feet meets the wall.

"O-o-of course, if it w-w-won't bother you"

Not wanting to look like a weirdo you try to stand straight.

"Oh, really? Are you sure?"

Irene coming even closer doesn't help though.

"Yeah"

While you were trying to keep your wits, Irene is trying to keep her self control.

Getting closer she smells the slight body odour you gave off from doing those dances. Your body heat seems to radiate to her, giving off warmth that she never felt before.

"Then let's exchange number, so I can give you a time and place for tutoring"

Your brain short circuit for a little. Along with your heart, and your lungs, and your, well, your whole organ.

This is Irene, of course you're having a full organ failure when she ask for your number.

"Sorry?"

You managed to squeak out.

"Your number, for tutoring"

Irene pulled out her phone from behind her before quickly opening her contact.

She then leaned forward while offering her phone to you.

Despite being a head taller, you felt like a little mouse in front of her.

You glanced at the phone, ready to take it, then something else caught your eyes.

She was wearing a loose sweater today, her little forward lean is enough for her to expose her clevage.

You, might stare longer than you should. It is mind boggling that she didn't say anything.

Irene didn't say anything, becuse she likes it.

That's right, Irene, one of the idol, maybe the number one idol who hate being sexualised, is enjoying your eyes.

He's checking me out? Oh yeah, the sweater is loose. Is he watching my clevage? Don't react Irene, don't let him realise that you realized his gaze.

"Of course"

Quickly you take her phone and put in your number. Double, no, triple, no, quad checking the number you put in is the right one before giving it back to her.

"Thank you"

Irene smiled happily, one for your number, two for your eyes that's showing your lustful desires.

"Y-y-yeah, thanks sunbaenim"

No, that's not quite right, she doesn't like that name you have for her.

"Don't be formal, call me Joohyun-noona"

Call me that, now.

"I, okay, thank you Noona"

Hmmmmm, Irene's heart has stopped yet again.

"Well go on, you should go back"

She doesn't have to tell you twice. You quickly scurry of the the practice door.

Irene watches your back, even from the back she can't help but be enticed by you.

I want you.

You can't believe it, you simply can't believe you just gave Irene your number. In fact, you can barely believe Irene is here watching you.

Take a deep breath. Calm down. Focus on the lesson.

"You seems happy unnie"

Nothing can escape Wendy, as soon as Irene walked back in, the little smile she had on her face has not escape Wendy.

"Oh? It's nothing"

Irene glances back at you, who is busy watching your fellow trainee performance.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I just found something interesting"

"Someone?"

"You could say that"

Irene would love to stay here watching you the whole day. Unfortunately she has a schedule that she need to follow.

With a heavy heart, she followed her friends to say goodbye before leaving the place.

She has send you a text so that you would keep her number. She also knows that you can't use your phone until lunch.

That doesn't stop her from checking her phone every few seconds, hoping for you to answer her text.

When lunch come around Irene can't focus on her food. She keeps wondering what you were doing, and why you're not answering her.

Of course the answer is simple, you forgot.

Only until around the sun down when you finished your training for today did you saw she has sent you a message.

With a little hesitation you answered it.

Surprisingly for you, she read it instantly. Of course, Irene has been locked to her phone every since she sent you the text.

Despite all the anger that she have for you, there's still a glimmer of happiness seeing you answer.

She asked you what took you so long to answer.

You panicked, hurriedly saying sorry and told her it's been a long day and you were busy working out.

"Working out? Does he use the companies gym?"

"Companies gym? That's off limit for trainees, if only I can use it, I don't have to spend money for gym membership"

"I want to see him workout, I can give him an allowance to use it"

"She's giving allowance? But why?

"Why? What should I say here? Oh right, I just want to help him build up his flexibility"

"My flexibility? Is it so bad that she has to oversee me herself? Is she overseeing me?"

"Yes, of course I'm overseeing him, who else?"

"Whoa, that's, I don't know what to say"

Stunned by the message you took a minute to digest what she is offering you.

Unfortunately for Irene that minute is one minute too long.

"Why isn't he responding"

"Oh shit, what do I say? Thank you for the offer? I don't deserve it?"

"Why did he say that? Stop saying that, just take the offer and workout with me"

"Oh shit, did I piss her off? Sorry, I'll take it if she insist then"

"Good, I want to see him again, I need to ask his schedule"

"My schedule? I guess I can send her the screenshot for it"

"That's too restricting, ahhhh, I don't think I can just ask them to change it"

"What do you mean it's too restricting? Doesn't she went through this"

"I did, but I don't like it. Can he workout in the morning?"

"Morning? Like 5 AM? She wants to workout that early?"

"5 AM is too late, he starts at 8 AM. Can he starts at 4 AM?

"4 AM? Bruh that's like my unemployment schedule when I can just workout before sun rise and chill for the rest of the day"

"Too early? How do I convince him? Oh right, it's for his stamina"

"Ahhhh, she really want me to start at 4 AM? Fuck it, I don't get any more chances to do this"

"Good, I'll see him tomorrow morning, I wonder what I should wear tomorrow"

While Irene is filled with enthusiasm and struggle to find the best outfit for tomorrow you went to prepare 5 alarm to wake up early tomorrow.

The next day, you went to the company building, the security seems to have been informed for your arrival and send you up to the gym.

In the gym, there's nobody, except for Irene. Sitting there waiting for you.

Her ethereal beauty made you hold your breath, her gaze that's locked on to you made you feel uncomfortable, as if she's dissecting your whole body with her eyes.

Irene was struggling to keep herself from running to you. She held her breath, dug her nails into her palm, doing everything that she can to stop herself.

"Come here, don't be shy"

Too caught up in her beauty, you didn't realise her voice crack.

"Good morning Noona"

Irene love it when you call her that, the name, the tone, the deep raspy voice you have.

As you get close Irene felt the warmth that rejuvenate her yesterday, the warmth she never realised how much she enjoyed your presence.

"Good morning, so, let's start with a little briefing, how do you usually workout?"

You started of with some stuttering, but you did managed to smooth out your words and eloquently tell her the details for your workout.

Irene is happy, you didn't use much weight lifting at your workout, she prefer a lean body type in a person.

"Well, let's go, do a warmup, I'll follow you for now"

Do you feel nervous working out with Irene around? Yes, definitely yes.

"Come on now, go all the way"

It was when you do some stretching, opening your leg out in a split while trying to lower your body to reach forward as far as you can did Irene see an opening.

She went and put her hand on your shoulder. The touch cause a sudden thrill for both of you.

"Relax your back, take a deep breath"

Irene managed to keep her composure as you were panicking. You did managed to calm down and follow her instructions as she pushed you further.

Unfortunately for Irene, the move doesn't last forever and she reluctantly take off her hand off your shoulder. Feeling somewhat contempt for feeling up your back.

"Now, go start your workout routine"

She doesn't like your routine as much as before. That is simply because she doesn't find any more opportunities to touch you.

She craves it, she craves you. It's slowly driving her mad, the sight of you has become a full feast for her desires. The touch that she felt still lingers in her hand. Your warmth, it's comforting, so much so she can't help but get close to you during the whole workout, never letting herself further than one meter away from you.

As the workout progress your body start sweating up, your body odour is something you've been self conscious about. A source of insecurity that forces you to wash yourself multiple time a day.

For Irene, the smell is addicting, it was something she want to turn into a candle and light it up all around her house.

Needless to say she got more and more restless, she wants to touch you.

She wants to run her hand through your sweat stained t-shirt, she wants to dig her face to your neck and inhale your scent so it will imprint itself in her mind.

"That's enough, now we need to work on your flexibility"

She snapped, she can't hold it any longer.

"Go down on the mat"

As you sit down she walked behind you, putting both hand on your shoulder.

You felt, scared, intimidated. You wrote it off as a normal feeling, one of a junior when their senior is watching them very closely. If you were in the right mind you would've notice it was much more than that, it was the feeling when a prey felt when they have been caught in the hand of their predator.

"Now, let's start with the basic"

You have fail the basic, much to your dismay. Feeling the shame and embarassment rise in you, you grit your teeth and look up to her.

Only to find her faint smile while her eyes is filled with imagination and, hunger.

Irene is happy, you're terrible at this, so much so that she can spend alot of time teaching you for it.

"It's okay, we can still improve"

Her words of encouragement felt like pity for you.

"Now, it's my turn to workout, help me for a second"

Once again, anxiety fill you up.

"Come on, hold my leg"

She find a few manuvers where she could force you to held her close.

She felt fulfilled after feeling up all your body from before. Now she wants something else, she wants you to touch her.

Your big rough hand can be felt clearly through her tight thin outfits. She ejoy the gentleness you put on your touch.

She ejoy your meek expression as you held her.

She enjoys your shyness and attempt to look away from her only to fail and check her out every now and then.

Once she's satisfied she ended the training.

"That's was good, it is a productive first day. It's still 7 AM, why don't you get a shower so we can enjoy breakfast together"

Of course, that doesn't mean she's done with you.

You slipped off to the shower, taking a bath and clean up every inch your body.

Irene sneaked into the locker, she heard the shower noises so she ran to your gym bag. Taking out your t-shirt.

It's wet from your sweat, although it's not drenched like before since you had time to cool down as you help her stretch.

As she took out you t-shirt, the smell attacked her nose. Without thinking she stuffed it to her face, taking a deep breath, inhaling the scents.

"Oh god~~"

Moans escaped her lips as her pants is slowly developing wet spots. She doesn't wear panties, hoping that you would be brazen enough to get a feel of her ass.

Of course, you were to scared for your life to do so.

Then the shower stopped, Irene was woken up form her daze, she ran to the exit before escaping to her locker room.

She pull out a plastic bag from her gym bag, carefully putting your t-shirt in it before zipping it close. Your t-shirt will be out to good use for the next week or so.

You waited for her at the gym, she has make it clear that she wants to eat breakfast with you.

Not long Irene walks out, looking fresh and proper. She wore a white shirt along with a black pencil skirt. Awakening the teacher links you have in you.

"Come on, let's go"

Her smile is blinding you.

She took you to her office, seemingly already ordered a breakfast for two from the two take out box on her table.

"So, this was fun"

Irene is never been the one who started a conversation, however, it's been established that you, are different for her.

"Y-y-yeah, thanks for today noona"

You nervously look at her curious gaze.

"Of course, I have a question, why did your friends called you blue?"

"Well, it was during the audition, there was a little written test. Well not a test, there was just a few questions about me and my dreams and they want us to write it on paper. They gave me a pen, but then, it broke, somehow. Spraying blue ink all over myself and my hand. So, I finished the whole audition with a blue staint on my hand, face and shirt. The interviewer doesn't really think much of it, it was an error for their part. I don't mind it much either since they said it won't be a problem. The confidence u show even though I looked silly with the ink made them accept me. Some of the trainee was there as well, they called me blue man. I find it funny and just roll with the nickname"

Irene frowned for a second, noting to get to the bottom of this. Finding the person responsible to humiliate you like that.

"Where do you audition in?"

"Japan, Tokyo, I had a few Korean friends and have been, well somewhat talented in singing. So I just took the audition and got accepted"

Irene's warm smile and friendly demeanour distract you from finding out it was an interview by her.

Needless to say, you pass with flying colours. In her eyes, you went from an object of desires and lust to a perfect icon for her ideal type of men.

"Well, thank you again for today Noona, I'm not sure how to repay you"

You've grown accustomed to her presence, which is something Irene noticed and took joy in.

"It's okay, go work hard today okay? I'll see you tomorrow"

"Tomorrow? We're doing this again?"

"Hehehe, of course, we'll be doing this until you pass my standard"

"O-o-o-okay then, see you tomorrow?"

She smiled and nodded. As you walk out of the room, Irene is staring at your back.

Slowly she cursed you, making her feel this way. She's Irene, the queen of kpop, the one who have rejected many men, all of which is much more accomplished than you.

Yet now, somehow, she's in love with you.

That's right, she can no longer deny it, she loves you, and she wants you. Whatever she wants, she get it.

Irene doesn't hate men, she knows that now, she's helplessly in love with you.

This new routine has drained you slowly.

After the first week you felt like you want to die. You're probably dead actually, you just didn't realise it.

Every morning you will find Irene waiting for you in the gym. You could've sworn she keep picking the most revealing outfits she have.

Everyday, Irene is getting bolder and bolder. She would start to caress your back as you were doing your early stretching.

When she made you stretch your leg on the floor she would openly feel up your chest, disguising it as a way for her to keep her balance.

When you help her with her stretches she will keep suggesting for you to touch her even more, much to your dismay.

You kept your respectful, touch though, much to her dismay.

At day 4 or 5, you realized she's not wearing any panties. Her white tight yoga pants has show her perfect ass to you when she was facing away from you.

This doesn't go unnoticed by Irene, which excite her even more.

Unfortunately for her, you never do anything more than staring when you think she wasn't watching. She's always watching.

You did realised your shirt occasionally went missing, only to find it the next day.

Organized is not what you are, so you just wrote it off as your clumsiness or lack of attention to details, which is ironic.

The things you hate the most, is Irene keep buying you breakfast. Everytime you always insisted for her to let do that.

Everytime she will win the argument, a gentle smile, a little caress on your hand, and then you'll be a blushing mess, to shy to say anything else.

The new routine is perfect for Irene, she loves it, but slowly, she realised it's not enough.

Every night she would suffocate herself using your used gym outfits while masturbating.

The first time she did it was heavenly, the best orgasm she ever had.

Irene is not a pure girl, she has her own sexual needs. She knows how to keep it down though, never realising that her drive, is way too high for normal people.

All those years of controlling herself is out of the window now, because of you.

She have your pictures, she took photo of you time to time during the workout.

She has videos of you, masking it as a way to explain your form to you.

Every time she got the chance she would open this pictures and videos. Revering your body, your movement, all of you, is something she can't get enough for.

She wants more.

She needs more.

She needs you.

"Hey blue, you want to get some ramen"

Your friend invited you for a lunch.

"No bro, I'm poor"

The life of an unemployed, well, technically a college student.

"Come on, I'll pay"

You felt yourself cringe for a second before quickly hiding it.

"No, I can eat at the cafeteria, they have nice chicken"

Nobody like the cafeteria food, they felt, bland. Not that you care, they tasted better than the trash food that you used to eat.

"Ahhh, fine, we'll buy you something nice"

They quickly scurry off leaving you alone in the practice room. For a few moments you were contemplating should you go out and eat or should you continue practicing.

However, the choice was made for you, by a beautiful pale beauty walking in the empty practice room.

"Oh Noona, good afternoon"

You hurriedly stand up and bowed to her.

"I was looking for you, why didn't you go out to eat?"

She managed to hide her aggravation with the tone of curiousity.

"Oh, I was thinking to practicing a bit more. Beside I'm not hungry"

Irene looked at you, with the cold, angry eyes. Silently she started walking to you.

"Noona?"

Her aura seems to grow so much so you felt your whole body shivering.

She didn't say anything until she got in front of you.

"You, are, eating, lunch"

She crossed her arm and the coldness in her eyes is gone, leaving nothing but anger.

"I, I'm really fine Noona, I don't nee-"

Your argument is sound and flawless, unfortunately she shut you up by grabbing your shirt and pulling you out.

"Okay, Noona, can you let me go now?"

Seeing no way out of this, you sighed and compromise with the current situation.

She stare at you for a second before letting go of your shirt. You sighed with relief but then she grabbed your hand. Interlocking her fingers with yours before she continue walking.

"Noona? I don't need to be held-"

Yet again, your argument was indisputable, but do you really want to finish it? Especially when Irene turned around, giving you a glare that could pierce your heart and slice it to a perfect 1 cm³ cube.

You shut your mouth, wisely. Irene continue walking in front of you, hiding her bright smile from your gaze.

Without caring she pulled you to the elevator and clicked the basement floor.

You felt nervous, what if someone sees you? Subconsciously your hand start to press on Irene's and your finger start caressing her hands.

Irene loves it, your grip was hard, so much so she felt bone being squeezed together. Your rough fingers also sends tickling sensation to her heart everytime they grind themselves again the back of he palm.

Then suddenly the door opened, and an employee walked in.

Your anxiety went through the roof, in an instant you squeezed Irene's hand even harder. The pain was intoxicating for Irene, she had to bite her inner cheek to remind herself not to squeal right there and then.

The employee looked at your intertwined fingers, then they looked at your nervous face, then to the glaring Irene.

They slowly stepped backward as the elevator door closes again. Much to Irene's joy her little paradise is kept pure.

The basement was empty, Irene immediately dragged you to her car, putting you on the passenger seat.

"Where are we going Noona?"

"Some place nice"

"I, I don't have much money Noona"

"It's okay, I'm paying"

You grimaced feeling uneasiness well up in your body.

"You, really don't have too Noona, you already payed for all our breakfast earlier. I can eat at the cafeteria, I promise I'm gonna eat"

Irene saw your face contorted for a second, something she will throughly research later in the day.

"No, I insist"

She turned on her car and start driving. You swallowed your uneasiness and tried to focus on something else.

Her perfume is nice.

Okay, not that one please.

The car is cool.

You, don't like cars.

Her fingers seems so hot.

Okay this not working at all.

Irene on the other hand, has embraced your presence. She is struggling to drive while her body keep screaming to throw herself on to you.

She wants to hold your hand, she wants to run her fingers through your fluffy hairs, she wants to taste your lips.

The 15 minute drive felt like an hour for both of you.

"Come here"

Irene once again held your hand to lead you to the reserved seat.

"You like French food?"

If I say no I feel like she still wouldn't let me go eat in the cafeteria.

"I never tried it"

"Good, this is the perfect place to start"

Lady, I can barely afford to buy water from this place, don't make my food palate become higher than my own financial capabilities.

"Why do you not like being treated?"

"You mean getting people to feed me out of pity?"

"Is that what you think I'm having? Pity?"

"I mean, no offense, I don't think I have much selling point to make you feel anything otherwise"

"That's not true, I like you"

"I.... thanks Noona, that's very kind of you"

"You don't get it"

"Yes?"

"I like you, romantically"

So, remember that little organ called heart? Well it's a very important organ to help your body functions, and keep you alive. Well, you lost it, unfortunate.

"Yes?"

You managed to squeak out after god knows how long.

"I like you"

"Yes?"

"I want to go out with you"

"Yes?"

"This is our first date"

"...... Yes?"

"Good, from now on we're going out"

"Uhmmmm...... Yes?"

Your timidness has grown Irene's interest in you, thankfully you kept quiet after this or else she would pounce you and start kissing you all over.

Everything else felt like a blur for you, things just went pass you, without even thinking you start eating the food.

The confusion you had overpowered the taste the food has given you.

"Be my boyfriend"

You stare at her in a catatonic state.

"Good, we're official from now on"

Do you even speak Korean? That language seems alien for your since you can't understand a single word coming out of Irene's mouth.

Irene left you to your demise, as she was enjoying the sight of a lost bunny right in front of her.

Even as you finished your lunch you didn't say anything. Not when Irene grabbed your hand and wrapped her arm around it. Not when Irene put her head on your shoulder as you got in the car. Not when Irene got to your company building and pulled you to her embrace and start playing with your hair.

"Baby, do you want to stay with me for the whole day?"

Her whispers in your ears woke you up. Her tone is so cute yet also, lustful. Her breath tickling your ear making sure you know how close she is to you right now.

"I-i-i-i need to go"

You stuttered trying to get off her hug.

"Ssssshhhhh, let's leave you a memory, for today's date"

She yanked your collar down, exposing your chest.

As you were frozen she leaned in, giving your peck a kiss, long enough to left her lipstick imprint on your chest.

"Aghhh, Noona don't do that"

Irene pulled herself back, leaving a thin trail of saliva between her lips and your chest.

You glanced down to see the red imprint on your chest was contrasting to your pale white skin.

As you tried to wipe it Irene grabbed your hand while glaring at you.

"Leave it"

"What? Noona, I can't just-"

"Leave it"

Her eyes is stern and firery, her grip is weak, but since her nail is sinking to your flesh you can only winced in pain.

"Okay"

You can only sighed in defeat, Irene nodded happily before pulling your hand. She watch the faint mark of her nails on your hand before gently caressing it.

"You're my boyfriend now, so I have to make sure you don't get preyed upon by others. Just do as I say okay baby? Then I won't hurt you"

Everything suddenly flood back to you, all those feelings in the back of your head all banded back together telling you it's too late.

You can't run.

"Okay Noona"

She smiled again before grabbing your chin.

"I've wanted to do this the moment I met you"

She leaned forward, your head screams to run, but your instincts screamed back that it would only lead to your death.

You leaned forward as well, taking her lips with yours.

The kiss was, pleasant for you, she seems to be more driven by lust making it one of the most aggressive kiss you've been in.

For Irene, the kiss was heavenly, she wants more, she wants your lips, your spit, it all taste like the sweetest nectar made for the gods.

Her whole body tensed up as she tried her best to stop herself from devouring you, yet your godly taste was just too enticing for her.

However, she's not a god, she got reminded of that by her own lungs screaming for air.

"Haaaa, Haaaa, I love you"

Between her panting she gaze into your eyes, her iris is dilated, in a shape of -it's impossible but you swear you see it- a heart.

Her lips is twisted to make the widest smile she has ever had in her life.

Her tongue slitehered out, licking her lips trying to take more of your taste.

She's drunk out of you.

"I, love you too"

If you can hear her organs you will go deaf from the squeak they just let out. Irene can't let go of you, unfortunately for her, she have to.

"I'm picking you up after your practice okay baby?"

Her gaze leave a chill in your spine, yet it also arroused you.

"Okay, babe"

This time, she let out a happy squeal while her hand is shaking.

"I love you"

She leaned in again to give you a peck on your lips.

Just a peck, she still have some self control so she knows if it's any longer than a peck then both of you won't be able to leave this car with your clothes on.

She escort you back to your training room, this time there's other people in the elevator.

You're happy you are off the hook from the hungry wolves that's holding you by the arm right now.

They gave you a weird and surprised look, but Irene doesn't mind, why would she? She have her eyes to one man, and one man only.

She escorted you to the front of your room.

"I want you to call me once you're done, and I want you to wait here until I pick you up"

Is she my mom or my girlfriend? Why the fuck am I asking this question about the Irene of Red Velvet.

"Okay.... Babe?"

She squealed again before kissing your cheek.

"Keep up your hard work"

You can't, how could you? You're having a relationship with Irene. God damnit you just made out with her in her own car 5 minutes ago.

Thankfully for you, nobody notices the red lipstick mark on your chest.

"Blue you're zoning out a lot"

"Oh yeah, sorry, I, don't feel so good"

"Is it the kimchi again? That's it dude, you're not eating in the cafeteria again"

"No, I'm fine, I...... Got a text from an old friend....... He took me out for lunch today"

"Oh? Your friend take you out on a lunch is okay but we're not"

"Come on man, I haven't seen him in so long, and I payed for my lunch"

"That's the thing dude, we don't want you to, we know your situation so just let us help you okay?"

"I, listen I am grateful for your help, but, I don't like owning someone something"

"Just, take it as a debt, you can pay it back once you debuted"

"I, thanks, but, I think I have a way to get lunch from now on"

"Fine then, but if I see you in the cafeteria again I'm dragging you to the McDonalds"

You almost die. By that it means you almost forgot to call your..... Girlfriend....?

Your call didn't get picked up, because you saw Irene waiting for you by the elevator.

Stern pose, angry glare, crossed arm, she's furious.

"Come here"

She pulled you the elevator, her aura is enough to deter any of your fellow trainee to jump in with you.

"I, sorry Noona, I was just about to call you"

"Oh is that so? Do you want to wait until you walk home to call me?"

"No, I was just tired from today's practice. I'm still adjusting to the new sleep schedule remember? I feel tired"

"You can't be tired, we need to do our second date today"

"T-t-t-today?"

"Yes, do you have a problem with that"

Irene is furious, she is holding herself from jumping you right now and you know it.

"I, just think we should rest for now"

"No, I'm having a second date with my boyfriend right now"

Her roar could probably be heard from outside of the elevator.

"Then, what if, we have a date, in my place"

Immediately you see her whole body relaxed. Her furious expression turned to one of happiness and relief.

"Okay, then, good"

More than good, I can go to his place. I was trying to take it slow and go there tomorrow but he jumped in to offered it for me himself. He really does love me. We are meant to be babe, we will be the greatest couple to ever live.

She can't contain herself and gave you a kiss again.

"I love you"

Her whispers is almost as deafening as her roar from earlier.

"I, love you too Noona"

Irene can't decide if she loves Noona or babe more, but again as long as it's from you she will love it either way.

She dragged you to the car, practically sprinting to it before she drive to your place. How does she know where you live?

"Come on, move"

She even knows your apartment number.

Fear is enveloping you as you slowly unlocked the door to your apartment.

She hops in the moment the door is opened, you walked behind her before locking the door behind you.

Suddenly as you turn Irene slam you to the door, she grabbed your collar and pulled you to make out with her.

His fragrant is so addicting, his taste is heavenly, what's a 3 Michelin star food compared to this. Even his little moan- Haaaa, he's moaning, oh my god, I'm getting wet. He's so perfect, and even more than perfect now, he's my boyfriend.

She practically dry humping your leg that's between hers right now.

"Noona"

You pulled away, making her frown deeply.

"We should, move to the bedroom"

Her eyes lights up again, she dragged you inside, holding you by your collar.

The destination is the bedroom, the pit stop is everywhere.

She pushed you to the wall and made out again.

She pushed you to your couch and dry hump your crotch while sucking on your tongue.

She draged you to the door only to jump up and kiss you again, as you held her by the thighs.

Finally she got to your bedroom, pushing you down before taking off your shirt.

"Noona, you're so.... Hot"

Fuck your mind, how can you say no to Irene. Fuck the logic, fuck the instinct, fuck survival, you want her.

You craved her, as much as she craves you. Within just a few minutes you've fallen with her, deep into the abyss.

She dives to her favourite meal, your mouth. Her hand is practically feeling up every inch of your torso and arms.

You let go of your primal instinct and grabbed her ass.

"Ahhhh, squeeze it babe"

That's your intent, giving some firm squeeze making her let out a moan. Raising your hand, you then drop a slap on her ass cheek.

"Aghhhh, again"

She stopped kissing you and held you by the back of the neck. Her head is digging deep into your neck while bitting it.

"You're. Such. A. Succubus"

With every word you deliver a hard slap to her cheeks.

"Baby, I'm cumming, I'm cumming"

She moans as her teeth is holding on to the skin on your neck.

"A slut"

You slapped both of her ass and grabbed it, hard.

"Babbyyyyyy"

Her screams was loud and the pitch was enough to make a dog deaf. You didn't care, you bite into her neck.

Her body that's squirming is going in to a full on seizure as she reached her climax.

"I love you, my slutty, beautiful Noona"

You whispered in her ears as she was fighting for her life in your embrace.

After what seems like hours she stopped spasming, her breath got heavy as she seems to lose her energy.

"Tired already?"

"Never"

She sat on your lap before taking off her own outfits.

Her pink bra seems so cute enveloping her breast. Almost like an invitation for you to drown yourself in it.

An invitation, that you take.

Sitting up you used both of your hand to take it off and started bitting her already erect nipple.

"Baby"

Her moans and squeal sounds so defenseless, the polar opposite of the image she always gives off.

She put both hand around your head, hugging it and pushing you to dig deeper to her.

Her leg is locked to your stomach, hugging you like a baby koala hanging for it's life.

"Baby, I'm cumming"

Your hand grabbed her body, pushing her on to you. Your mouth is sucking on to her nipples greedily.

Her hand and leg tightened themselves on you as her climax came again.

This time, it's much shorter, but not less intense than before.

"Tired?"

You can't help but to tease her.

"Never"

She got off your lap before taking off your pants.

Your already erect member was mesmerising to her.

Your tip was leaking precum, using her hand Irene wipe it before licking it.

"You taste so good"

Her body shake before she took your member into her mouth.

Jesus her lips is so attractive. The way it wrap itself around your dick, the red, plump lips was a vacuum to your dick.

She can't take it all in, but that doesn't matter, because even with half inside you still feel her magic is working.

Then she took it our of her mouth before jerking it with both hands. Her mouth then travel down to kiss your balls and suck on it as well.

"Are you coming baby?"

Her high pitched whine push you even harder. She kissed your balls, and the bottom of your cock.

Your cock and balls was ridden with red lipstick smudge all over, something that arouse you even more.

She put your dick back to her mouth, this time, by the power of sheer will she managed to take all your member in her mouth and throat.

As her lips reaches the base she turned it in to leave another fine red imprint on it. She read your mind, she knows how to push you over.

"Noona I'm coming"

Hearing your moans she stopped giving you a deep throat, leaving only your tip in her mouth.

With the help of her saliva she used both of her hands to jerk you off.

Your cum sprayed into her mouth, undoubtedly turning all of it's inside to a white mess.

Her eyes rolled behind her eyes as she took a deep breath with her nose.

Then, as your climax ended she took the tip off her mouth.

She look at you with pride, then she opened her mouth and sticks out her tongue, showing your cum pooling inside her mouth.

Her lips is smudged all over, her mascara is runined with her tears, her mouth is practically over filled by your sperm.

A sight even the gods can only dream off, is right in front of you right now.

She closed her mouth back and then gulp it down. You can hear the sickening yet arrousing swallowing sound from her mouth. She opened her mouth back and sticks out her tongue to show nothing remains in her mouth.

Her eyes is filled with pride and happiness, almost, pure, a pure happiness of her own accomplishment.

You grab her by the thighs before picking her up and put her in the bed.

"Take it off baby, I can't wait for you anymore"

Pulling down her skirt you see her panties is practically drenched and even dripping some of her juices.

You pulled it down as well, giving you sights for the main course.

"Put it in baby, I want to feel you inside, make me yours, fill me up, pleaseeee"

She's whining and begging you like a spolied kid.

Any other time you would slow down and teased this ice queen, but not now, now, there's only one thing you wanted to do.

"OH MY GOD~~~~"

She screamed as her body convulsed yet again as you put the whole length of your member in.

You waited as she was orgasming. Wanting to remember this view for the rest of your life.

As it ended you realise there's a red stain coming out of her vagina.

"You're a virgin Noona?"

She nodded, without any shame.

"I'm waiting for you"

God she's a psycho, I love it. Wait, what?

You started thrusting, slow and hard, making her breat jiggle everytime you sink your dick deeper into her.

Moans and moans keep escaping her lips.

"Baby, I love you, I love you so much, baby faster"

She let out a high pitched whine as you continue thrusting into her.

"Oh god you're breaking me baby"

"Aghhhh, so deep, you're so deep inside me"

"Faster baby, break me apart, tear me into two GODDDDD........"

"I can't hold it anymore, please, faster"

"Baby, I'm cumming"

"You can't cum yet"

"Baby pleaseeee"

Oh god, the sight of Irene whining and begging in front of you is to hard for you to resist.

"I'm coming too"

You grunted and lay forward to be on top of her.

"Inside baby, fill me up, fill me up with your seeds"

She whisper before she kissed you again.

Your thrust is getting faster, her walls is getting tighter. Then, you felt your dick squirmed, she must've felt it too since her leg went to lock you in place.

"I'm cumming"

She screamed into your mouth as her body was sent into another seizure.

You're drained, your breath was heavy and slow. As you finished depositing sperm in her untouched womb you got off her and lay next to her.

"I, love you"

Tears starts to pour down her eyes, a joyful tears.

"I love you too, my ice cold Noona"

You kissed her again, and as you do, there's only one thing in her mind.

I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.

You're fucked mate.

"Baby, hug me"

Irene whined as she envelopes her limbs around you.

"Okay, babe, let's, get in the right position to sleep first okay"

She grunted as you drag her so she can lay on the bed with you. Irene nuzzled up close to you, her nude body is pressing up against you, making you feel every inch of her perfect skin that has become sticky from her sweat.

"I love you, I love you so much baby"

Irene's small whimper is the devil's whisper that keep pulling you deeper and deeper into her.

"Okay, Noona"

Why would you say that?

"Say it back"

She spat as she pinched your neck.

"Awww, I love you to Noona, I told you earlier"

She doesn't seems satisfied.

"I want to hear it from you every moment in my day for the rest of my life"

Fuck, what do I do now? Why the fuck did I succumb to my own dick?

"O-o-o-okay Noona"

She smiled again, letting go of your neck.

"I like it when you stutter like that, you're so cute, my baby boy is so perfect"

She rubbed her face all over your cheek.

"Let's go to sleep Noona"

She squealed.

"I love you, good night baby"

"G-good night, Noona"

It's been a long day, you went through a lot. The moment you closed your eyes you feel your consciousness slowly sleep away.

The next morning you woke up with the heavy weight of someone on top of you.

"Morning babe"

You were still blinking your eyes trying to wake up when you felt Irene's lips pressing up against yours.

"Noona"

You pulled back, making her let out a growl.

"I-i-i-i need to w-w-w-wash my teeth"

Opening your eyes you see Irene is looking at you with dissatisfaction.

"I don't care, I want to kiss you"

She tried to kiss you again but you close your mouth making her face turned to anger.

"Noona please, let me wash my teeth first okay? You can kiss me all you want after"

She frowned but nodded anyway.

You stood up, trying to get out of bed, which is hard when Irene is clinging on to you.

"Noona, I can't move"

She just looked at you with a cute puppy eyes.

"I, love you?"

She smiled and kissed your cheek before letting you go.

"I love you too babe"

You went to your bathroom, with Irene following close behind you.

"Noona, I need, to take a shit"

She frowned yet again.

"Once you're done, I'm making out with you for an hour"

Was it an ultimatum? A promise? You decided to not think about it before you locked the bathroom door.

"Fuck"

You went to wash your face.

"What the fuck just happened"

You were hoping that your reflection would answer you, thankfully it didn't.

You do your morning duty before washing your face yet again hoping you would wake up in this weird dream.

When you go out you see Irene is waiting for you in your couch.

Crossed leg, crossed arm, cold eyes, she returned to the old Noona you know. Although, it was only for a moment, she smiled to you, a warm yet sinister smile.

"Come here honey"

You, awkwardly sit next to her.

"I love you"

She grabbed your hand, both of them.

"I love you too Noona"

You tried your best to be earnest.

"I want you to be honest with me"

"Okay"

"Do you have any relationship before me?"

Her eyes turned cold and sinister, you felt her hand pressing up harder against yours.

"I.... Do"

A few bones in your hand might broke off from the sheer force of her ire.

"You...."

Her growl made your body tremble.

"They're, just in the past"

She grabbed both of your head before pushing you to lay down on the couch.

"I don't care, I've waited so long for you and you can't even do the same? You're even a decade younger than me but you don't have any patience? For me?"

What? What is she talking about? What am I walking into right now?

"Noona, we just met, a week or so ago"

"I don't care, you should've waited for me"

Your face was wet, from her saliva and some tears. That's right, she's crying.

"I-i-i-i'm sorry Noona"

Good news, you felt her hand lower down from your face. Bad news, it's resting on your neck.

"You, fucking, cheater"

It tightened around your neck making let out a choked gasp.

"Noona"

You gurgled out.

"I hate you, I hate you so much"

Is this it? How you gonna die? Was it worth it for a night with Irene?

"Who's the bitch"

She suddenly let go of your neck and grabbed your head again.

"WHO WAS IT"

She screamed at you as you were coughing hard.

"My ex?"

You managed to squeak out.

"Yes, the bitch who seduced my man"

How do I get out of this? Fuck it, let's flirt our way out.

"Baby, it's nobody important, I already forgot about them"

You slowly wrapped her arm around her.

"They're bitches who almost succeed in getting you from me"

She's still mad, but her body atleast responded to your touch.

"They didn't, and even if I met you while I'm still dating them I would still choose you. We were made for each other right?"

Your forced smile is enough to calm her down a little.

"I don't want you to ever meet them again"

You nodded, obviously.

"And I want you to marry me"

You didn't nod, obviously.

"Say yes"

Fuck how do I get out of this. Uhmmmm, think fast brain, think.

"I, want to be the one who proposed"

She looked at you with discontent.

"Then propose to me"

What now smart guy? You felt your leg started to shake nervously.

"I need to buy a ring"

She snorted.

"I don't need a ring, I need to hear you say it"

Go all out? Fuck it I don't want to die.

"I, want to buy it, for you. I want to make it, romantic"

She frowned, cutely this time.

"You don't need to do that"

She can blush?

"I have to, we only get to, well I only get to propose once right? And we get married once, so I want to put all my effort on it"

Oh my god, Irene is blushing, hard. She looked away from you shyly, a very cute view, if only she didn't try to strangle you to death earlier.

"You're such a flirt"

You were stunned by her words, but recover quickly.

"For you, I have too, because..... I love you, and only you, forever"

She dug her face to your chest before letting out a shy shriek.

"Baby?"

She immediately attacked your mouth. Her hands is holding you from behind and work as your head pillow.

You felt your cheeks getting wet, her little moan and squeal also tells you, she's crying.

"I love you, oh god I love you so much it hurts. Hold me tight babe, don't let me go, never let me go"

She pulled away showing her tearful face.

"Okay babe, I love you too"

She took of your shirt.

"I want you, I want you again inside me babe"

She whined as she took of her's as well.

"I, am tired"

She kisses your cheek.

"I know, I'll do all the work this time. Just lay there okay baby?"

She pulled down your pants before ditching her panties and start grinding her already wet pussy on your dick.

"Hold my hand baby"

She reached out to you. You pulled up your hand and she immediately took it, interlocking your fingers with each other.

With the support from your hand she continues her grinding until your dick became hard.

Without waiting any longer she put it inside her.

"Aghhhhh, baby"

Her hands squeezed yours as her leg was quivering.

"You're, so tight Noona"

You can't help but groan feeling her inner walls is squeezing your dick, ready to milk it until it ran dry.

"I'm the best right baby, I'm better than those bitches? I have the best pussy you ever tried?"

Her eyes is filled with madness and a crave for your praises.

"You're the best one Noona, nothing come close to you"

You let go of her hand and reached to grab her ass.

"Yeah baby, my pussy was molded for your cock, it's perfect, we're perfect, I love you, I love you so much"

Losing it's support she drop down to you and start to nibbling on your neck as her hips start to pick up the pace.

"I love you too Noona"

You moaned feeling her teeth is biting on to your collarbone.

"You're so big, I'm breaking baby, do you want to tear me into two?"

Fuck this succubus is insane

Your hand starts to spank her ass making her moan louder and louder.

"Break me baby, fill me up, I want to feel your cum inside again. Come on, fill me up baby, fill up your Noona with your cum"

Your hip started moving, matching her pace. Every thrust you send made her thighs and ass wiggle. Her moans and screams start to shake matching her body's trembles.

"I'm coming baby"

She moaned as she sinked her teeth to your chest.

"No Noona, you don't get to cum"

You have to do it, how can you pass up the opportunity to dominate Irene?

"Baby please"

She raised her head showing her teary eyes and begging expression.

"If you cum, I will hate you"

You see her face was riddled with shock and fear, those two expression was then mixed with arrousal and lust as you start thrusting her faster and faster.

"Baby pleaseeee"

Her tears ran down her cheek. You almost feel sorry, almost.

"You cum when I cum, understand?"

She bite her lower lips, her tears running down her face.

"Babyyyyy"

Thankfully her whines help pushed you over the edge.

"Cum with me babe"

Your dick start to twitch, then as she felt your cum tainted her inner walls she let out a deep guttural groan as her body went to another seizure.

You felt, tired, drained, you lay on your couch panting as Irene was having an orgasm.

Finally it passed and she dropped to your chest. You hear her sobbing as her tears wet your chest.

"I'm sorry baby"

You decided to caress her head, she let out her cries as she hugged you.

Do you feel sorry for her? Maybe

Do you regret doing it? Fuck no

Finally she stopped crying and raised her tear stained face and her red eyes is looking at you timidly.

"Oh baby, I'm sorry, I just can't.... Stop myself when you're.... Being so cute"

Her tears falling again as she start to kiss you.

Her hands is hugging your neck, her leg is resting quietly between yours.

The kiss was, actually you're not really sure, probably 30 minutes or more.

"I love you baby, I really do"

Finally she finished and just whimper weakly in your ears.

"Okay babe, fuck it's already 7, I need to go"

She shake her head and just lock you in place.

"You're free for the day baby, cuddle me"

Even though her voice sounds so weak and tired you know resisting her now will only make your suffering greater tomorrow.

"I, need to contact my trainer at least"

She shake her head again.

"I don't want you to talk to other woman"

Fucking hell lady.

"Please?"

She then raised her face, it looked tired, but her eyes have some cold fury in it.

"Did you have her number in your phone"

Oh shit, here we go again.

"Yeah, I nee-"

She slapped my chest, it felt weak, but the emotional damage, well it's also weak since you're not that into her yet.

"Delete it"

You felt nervous, trying to make some excuses in your head.

"Why are you hesitating? You want to cheat on me again?"

You winced as she say that, knowing full well, what's gonna come for you for the rest of this relationship.

"I need her contact in case something happened"

She shake her head again.

"No, I don't care, delete it. If you want to say something then tell your friend to relay your message to her"

"Baby please"

"No, I lose you before I'm not losing you again to some scrawny whore who's going to seduce you. No baby, I'm not losing you again, not when I already have you in my arms"

What now? What will your brilliant mind come up with?

"I need it for my career"

She snorted.

"You only need me, if you want to debut just say it and I'll make you debut"

Sugar mommy is a pretty rare thing to have, especially someone this hot.

"Baby, I, need to earn it"

She growled again.

"You, can let me ask her right? I'm just telling her I'm sick"

Her face contorted as she grabbed your chest.

"Fine, but I want to see your chat history. In fact, I want to see your phone and check every single girl you tried to cheat on me with"

Well this is it, it's your life now.

[natalchartnurtures]

PAC: How can you wear your "Big Boy" pants right now?

Sometimes we need reminders that we can in fact, be "big boys" in our lives and take responsibility to change what we don't like about our lives. Happy reading!

_________________________________________________________

Pile 1:

There's a lot you CAN do. In fact, you have been doing a lot by yourself, weathering proverbial storms all on your own. Unfortunately, you haven't been conscious enough to acknowledge all the effort you've been putting in to simply push through. Let me be the one to give you the kudos you deserve, Pile 1. You've been doing way more than you think, albeit these are mostly internal efforts (like maintaining a headstrong attitude in the face of a challenge). You currently feel challenged to take active steps in your external life, though. You might find it hard to apply things you learn to your life or simply lack the discipline to see your (quite excellent) plans through. You need to be reminded that you do have the free will to choose to make all your plans come to life :) You have what it takes, sweetie; you really do.

Bonus - How do you need to go about it? One thing that can EASILY help you execute your plans is to bring in help (trigger warning though). You all seem Independent AF, and I get it, sweets. With everything you've been doing, of course, you can handle anything, but you definitely need some support too right now. Especially if you struggle with something like discipline (or whatever challenge you're facing right now). Bringing in even just ONE person (or multiple) to help hold you accountable to your plans, with compassion, would help you a lot (that person/people don't have to be real too; you could bring in a bot from an app or AI, I don't care) as long as you feel like you have a buddy, you know? Somebody who makes you feel like your plans matter. It's an excellent way to pour into yourself right now and show yourself some TLC ✨️ You deserve to make your plans a reality and have a bit of fun on your path towards it.

Love, light, and hugs!

_________________________________________________________

Pile 2:

Doing things your way and rejecting convention might be a BIG step for you, to be honest, but it's well worth it, Pile 2. Celebrate yourself, basically. Slow down and enjoy yourselves a little bit. Maybe you've been living your life BY THE BOOK so far, and now you're going to put your big boy pants on by letting loose and doing things differently for once. You're not abandoning yourself and your needs nearly as much anymore, and so you're quite stable in your own skin as a result. That's really impressive, Pile 2! You have lived in fear (possibly a fear of failure), and I'm sensing some mommy wounds maybe? This is where your fear stems from, and this fear has kept you from really truly living. You might identify as a workaholic too. Maybe you prefer to keep yourself busy as a coping mechanism to ward off any feelings of anxiety. This has a direct correlation to childhood wounds of yours. So put your big boy pants on and put an end to conforming to standards that don't respect you and what you stand for, Pile 2.

Bonus - How do you need to go about it? I feel like this pile needs extra guidance on how to exactly wear their big boy pants. Start by acknowledging that you do have wounds from childhood, specifically those from female (motherly) figures, if not your mother herself. Take a radical approach to your healing journey right now. Look into the concept of mothering yourself and come up with customized ways to do just that. You got this, Pile 2 :)

Love, light, and hugs!

_________________________________________________________

Pile 3:

It seems like you've already been wearing your big boy pants, Pile 3. Good job! Looks like you've been on a healing journey, and you're now at a point in life where you can reap the benefits of all the inner work you've done. You've reached a level of mastery over the mind, and now it's time to make room to tend to your heart. You need something that your authority figures couldn't give you readily, and that's unconditional compassion. Show yourself kindness even when things don't go as you'd like them to. Hold yourself through the thick and thin of life, as you would a child. This should open up a brand new way of living and viewing life that you never thought possible. It has always been waiting for you and your attention. Nurture yourself on a whole new level and be ready to receive 10X from the universe. You're going to feel so spoiled, I love it, haha! 😄

Love, light, and hugs!

_________________________________________________________

[st4rwon]

enhypen followed you !

13) shorter than me - wc: 0.6k

synopsis - jake, being the clumsy guy he is, accidentally follows you from the official enhypen account on twitter. this leads to your life taking a full 180 and having to deal with being in the public eye.

it was around 6, the time when the cafe you worked at closed. jake stood outside the door pacing by the front door. jake’s idea wasn’t feeling real smart at the moment. he had planned on showing up around closing hours since he didn’t want to cause a big commotion. the reason for jake being there? well yet again he wanted to apologize. at least that’s what he told himself. in reality he had tried to suppress his attraction to you and thought that seeing you once more would make him stop thinking about you so often. he was only thinking about you because he felt guilty, right? that was besides the point.

jake took a deep breath before entering the cafe. it was rather quiet, there was some lofi music playing and the chatter of a small group of people that were getting ready to leave. jake nervously approached the counter and greeted the barista.

“hi there” jake said with a smile

“welcome sir, we’re just about to close up so im afraid that i can’t take your order.” said the male. he looked a bit suspicious of jake but that was a given considering he was wearing all black with a mask and hat.

“oh, im actually not looking to get anything, is yn here?”

“yn? what do you want from her?” said the male, getting oddly defensive.

“i just wanted to talk with her about something”

“who exactly are you?”

jake froze at this question, he wasn’t expecting this worker to be so wary in telling him where you were, but he was a bit desperate, so he decided to be honest. “im jake”

“jake? you’re jake?” the worker asked, seeming a bit shocked

“yeah…?”

“why do you need to talk to yn again?”

‘again? this guy must be close yn to be able to know that she spoke with me that one time’ jake thought to himself. “well i just wanted to apologize for everything that’s happened…”

“i don’t think you need to be talking to her again” the man said harshly

“please, i know i’ve been a bother, but could you please let me reach out to her and apologize. i promise i won’t do anything to get her in trouble.” jake said, the words stumbled out of his mouth. he wasn’t even sure as to why he was putting in so much effort just to speak to you again.

“fine, but you better not go back on your word. she’s been through a lot because of you.”

jake quickly grabbed a napkin and scribbled down his number on it. “here. I really appreciate this, thank you.” he said with a small smile

“you’re welcome”

and with that jake left the cafe and headed back to the dorms, but he couldn’t help but think about the way the man was so protective once he mentioned yn.

back at the cafe, beomgyu walked over to the counter. “who was that? you seemed to be having a pretty long conversation.”

“it’s that guy yn talks about, jake” soobin mumbled, still a bit put off by the interaction. he could tell jake was sincere in his intentions, but he didn’t want to risk yn getting into another scandal.

“hold up, that guy was jake? jake is shorter than me?!”

“is that really want you’re gonna focus on here?”

“yeah!”

soobin sighed and stared at the napkin with jake’s number, should he give it to her? he crumpled it up and shoved it in his pocket before getting ready to close up.

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