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fireinmoonshot · 1 month ago

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plus one | joaquín torres x reader

Pairing: Joaquín Torres x Reader Summary: You help Joaquín get ready for a gala that he and Sam are attending – though because of the 'no plus ones' rule, Joaquín would rather stay with you instead... and he intends to convince you to let him. Warnings: I don't think I use any pronouns or gender specific terms in this (please let me know if I do and I'll fix my warnings) but it is mentioned that reader has hair long enough for Joaquín to tangle his hands in. There are references to nudity. It's also slightly suggestive at times but nothing specific. Word Count: 3.2k A/N: Surprise! It's been a whole month since I last wrote for Joaquín, and then this morning I woke up to those photos of Danny at the Mission premiere and he is so Joaquín in them that I was inspired. I was literally plotting this out at work cause I couldn't stop thinking about how good he looked in that outfit and then I started working on this the second I got home. I'm actually so happy with how it turned out considering I haven't written for Joaquín in a month, but I have missed writing for him so much. I really hope all of you will love this! 💗

“Angel, I really don’t think that Sam would mind that much,” Joaquin calls from the bathroom, fresh out of the shower. He hooks a towel around his waist and moves to stand in the doorway so he can see you, sitting cross legged on the bed, staring down at your phone. “I seriously think he’d be cool with going alone.”

You look up from your phone, eyes falling on your half-naked boyfriend, and forget how to speak for a moment. His hair is still wet and so is his chest – he’d clearly forgotten to dry himself off properly, wanting to talk to you so badly and attempt to convince you to let him stay home again.

Ever since he’d found out that there were no plus ones allowed at the gala he and Sam had been invited to, he had decided that he didn’t want to go. Sam was going to be there too, so it wasn’t like he was going alone, but for some reason, the simple fact that you couldn’t go made it so that he didn’t want to go either.

“Are you listening to me, angel?”

You blink, tearing your eyes away from his chest where you’d apparently been staring, and nod. “I am, but you’re still going to the gala, Joaquin. You made a promise to Sam.”

Joaquin pouts a little and walks across the room towards you. You try not to focus on the fact that the towel around his waist is tied incredibly low and instead, look at the wet footprints he’s leaving as he walks.

“Baby, you’re gonna get the carpet wet!” You scold him, standing up from the bed just as he reaches you. You place your hands on his chest and start to push him backwards towards the bathroom. “Dry yourself off before you come out here. You know better.”

Joaquin’s pout turns into a grin as he’s pushed backwards by you. He finds it adorable when you get so frustrated over the small things like that, and the fact that your hands are on his bare chest is just a bonus. “Well, stay with me in the bathroom while I dry off, then, cause I don’t wanna have to yell at you just to talk to you,” he says, allowing himself to be pushed back to the bathroom.

“Fine,” you sigh, moving to take a seat on the toilet lid.

You try your best not to stare as Joaquin undoes the towel around his waist and gets to work drying himself off. It’s nothing you haven’t seen before – the man does have a habit of wearing nothing or very little around the house – but it still has the same effect on you every time. You make an effort to look at his face instead.

“I can just text Sam and tell him I’m sick or something,” Joaquin suggests, trying to get back to the topic of the gala. “He wouldn’t know if I’m lying or not.”

You groan and lean back against the cistern. “Baby, you are not lying to Sam about being sick. It’s just a few hours. You’ll probably really enjoy yourself when you’re there. It’ll go so fast and then you’ll be home.”

Joaquin picks up his boxers and pulls them on, frowning to himself as he does. He’d really thought that maybe, you watching him dry off after his shower might give you a reason to finally relent and let him stay home… he’d clearly underestimated your ability to stay true to your word. “You won’t be there, though. It’s not going to be as fun if you’re not there with me.”

“So you never had fun before you met me?”

He turns to look at you, a cheeky smile on his face. “Never.”

You roll your eyes and pick up his dress pants, sitting beside you on the vanity, and throw them at him. “Just get dressed, silly.”

“I’m just saying,” Joaquin says, catching the pants and pulling them on. “I’d have so much more fun if I stayed home with you. I’m sure I could could come up with something we could do. There are so many options.”

He does the button on the pants up and looks at you, eyebrows raised. You can tell by the look on his face exactly what he’s thinking and shake your head, trying not to laugh.

“C’mon, angel. What do you say?” He hums, taking a few steps closer to you and reaching down to tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear. This is definitely going to work. He knows that you’ve always been susceptible to his touch.

Joaquin almost smiles as you stand up and place your hands on his chest. He places his own hands on your waist and tugs you a little closer to him.

“Baby,” you start, and Joaquin nods at you, his eyes wide and full of hope. “I love you, but I swear if you don’t pick up that dress shirt right now, put it on and finish getting ready, I’m never touching you again. That means no hugs, no kisses, no–”

Joaquin groans and steps back away from you. “You’re killing me here, angel.”

“You’ll live,” you laugh, sitting back down on the toilet lid.

He picks up the dress shirt from the vanity and pulls it on, maintaining eye contact with you the entire time. The pout on his lips is so cute that you almost stand right back up and kiss him, but you know that if you do, there’s no way Joaquin is leaving the house.

“I might not,” Joaquin huffs, starting to do the buttons up on his shirt. “It’ll be hours without you. I’ll be all alone in a giant room full of strangers.”

You watch as he does the buttons up all the way to the top and can’t help yourself from standing up and taking a few steps towards him. The pout on his mouth stays in place.

“You’re the most social person I know, Joaquin. Since when do you fear a room full of strangers?” You ask, reaching up to the top button of his shirt. “Anyway, I’ll be eagerly waiting for you to come home if that makes you feel any better.”

Joaquin’s hands find your waist again as you unbutton the top button of the shirt. His breath hitches. Has he finally won you over just by being fully dressed and pouty? His grip tightens on your waist as you unbutton the next button. Then, you drop your hands.

“Angel.”

“There, all done,” you smile, leaning up to peck his lips. “Now, come on. I’ll dry your hair and style it for you and then you’ll be all ready to go. Sam will be here soon anyway.”

You move to step away from him and walk out of the room but Joaquin is quick to pull you back to him. Before you have a chance to object, his lips are on yours. You moan a little at the contact which only spurs Joaquin on more. His hands slip underneath the fabric of your pyjama shirt as he manoeuvres you up and onto the vanity behind you. He uses one hand to push your legs apart so he can stand between them. The other hand moves to tangle in your hair.

It takes every ounce of control not to start unbuttoning the rest of Joaquin’s shirt as he kisses you. You can’t even fist the fabric in your hands, not wanting to crease it when he’s about to leave for a fancy gala. His hair, though, is open territory. Despite the fact that it’s still damp, one of your hands weaves its way into it and you can’t help but tug a little. The noise he makes into your mouth is one you wish you could hear over and over again.

Reluctantly, Joaquin has to pull away to breathe soon. His forehead falls against yours, his breathing heavy. One of his hands rests on your thigh, the other one that had been in your hair now gently holding the back of your neck.

“You ready for me to dry your hair now?” You ask, voice a little teasing.

Joaquin rolls his eyes and stands up straight. “You can’t seriously expect me to still go to the gala after that, can you?”

Smiling, you put your hands on his chest and push him back a little, just enough for you to stand up off of the vanity. His hands stay firmly on you, the one that had been on your thigh now resting on your hip instead.

“You say that as if I’m the one who initiated that, baby.”

He can’t help but laugh a little at that. You were right – he had been the one to initiate the kiss. He just hadn’t expected you to get quite as into it as you had. “Okay, fair call.”

You reach down to take one of his hands. “C’mon, baby.”

Joaquin allows himself to be dragged out of the bathroom by you and smiles a little at the fact that only minutes ago, you’d been pushing him back into the bathroom and now you’re dragging him out of it. He allows you to dry his hair, enjoying the feeling of your fingers running through it and the warm air from the hairdryer. He especially enjoys the fact that you lean down once it’s all dry and kiss him just behind his ear. He almost turns around and tugs you down onto his lap then and there. He’s surprised he manages to stop himself.

It’s not too long later that you’re standing beside him just inside the front door of your house. There’s a limo outside waiting to pick up Joaquin to take him to the gala. Sam’s already waiting inside, probably very impatiently.

“You sure it’s too late to back out?” Joaquin asks, his arms wrapped around you, hands resting on the small of your back. “I could still pull the ‘hey, I’m feeling sick all of a sudden’ card.”

“No, Joaquin,” you shake your head. “You’re going.”

He groans and throws his head back. “Ugh, fine.”

You take advantage of the situation to stand up on your tip-toes and press a kiss to his neck, right above his Adam’s apple. You can feel him tense up at the sudden contact and feel satisfied that you’ve succeeded in your intentions as you see the look in his eyes.

“What was that for?”

“I’m just giving you another memory to think of when you’re out tonight,” you shrug your shoulders. “You look so handsome that I couldn’t help myself. You should wear shirts like this more often.”

Joaquin chuckles. “Thank you, angel. I think I need another memory though.”

He leans in and kisses you again. It’s only a quick kiss, even though he’d like nothing more than to make it more than that, but it’s good enough for him.

As soon as you break away, there’s the sound of the car horn honking outside – Sam’s way of telling Joaquin to hurry the hell up.

“Now, you really have to go,” you laugh, pulling yourself out of his arms to open up the front door. You shiver a little at the cool evening air and it makes Joaquin want to wrap you up in his arms all over again. “Baby, come on.” You reach out and grab his hand, pulling him forward until he’s finally out on the doorstep.

Joaquin smiles at you, just enjoying the feeling of holding your hand.

“Okay, you go out and have a good night, okay? Text me when you’re on your way home. I’ll try and stay awake for you as long as I can,” you give his hand a squeeze and then let go.

“I won’t be late, I promise. I don’t wanna keep you up,” he says. Joaquin isn’t going that easily, though. He steps forward and gives you another quick kiss. “I love you, angel.” The words are murmured against your lips. “I want more kisses when I’m home, okay?”

Laughing, you gently push him away from you. “Hurry up, you’re keeping Sam waiting!”

“Only when you say you love me too!”

“I love you too. Now go!”

Joaquin grins and finally turns around, starting to walk down the path towards the car. He’s about half way there when he turns on his heel and starts running back to you. You watch him, amused, as he makes his way back towards the house. Unsurprisingly, he meets you with another kiss – this one a little longer and a little rougher than last time.

Instead of being interrupted by a car horn honking this time, it’s the sound of Sam’s voice that makes Joaquin pull away from you, his hand still resting on your back.

“I swear if you don’t get into this car right now, Joaquin, I’m replacing you as Falcon!”

Joaquin’s eyes widen almost comically, but even though a part of him really believes that Sam would do it, it doesn’t stop him from leaning in to peck your lips again before he turns back around and starts running towards the limo.

“I love you, angel!” He yells as he’s running.

“Love you too,” you call back through your laughter.

You watch as he gets into the limo and then notice the window rolling down. He waves to you until the house is no longer visible and then finally looks at Sam for the first time since he’d gotten in.

“Next time, we’re negotiating for plus ones.”

~~~

It’s late by the time Joaquin comes home – much later than you’d anticipated. You’d attempted to stay up as long as you could, but when you hear the key in the front door, you’re half asleep in your bed, the room only lit by a lamp on your bedside table.

“Angel, are you sleeping?” Joaquin’s voice wakes you up a little.

Stifling a yawn, you push yourself into a seated position as the door to your bedroom opens and Joaquin walks inside, a smile on his face the second he sees you. His hair is a little messy, likely from a night of dancing or other tomfoolery, and his shirt is creased like you’d expected it to be when he came home.

“Hey, baby. What time is it?” You ask, rubbing your eyes a little. You’re pretty sure you’d fallen asleep for at least a little bit there, but you have no idea when or for how long. “Did you have a good night?”

Joaquin crosses over towards the bed and is about to sit down on it when you stop him.

“No outside clothes on the bed.”

He chuckles and starts to undo his belt. “You just trying to get me naked, angel?”

“If I wasn’t about to pass out, I’d say yes.”

He removes his dress shirt and pants, leaving them in a pile on the floor and leaving him in only his boxers before he climbs up onto the bed beside you, his phone in one of his hands. He slides underneath the covers and wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him so he can lean in and press a kiss to your cheek.

“It’s like… one a.m., I think,” Joaquin starts, answering your earlier question. “And I had the best night. You were right, angel. I really enjoyed myself once I was actually there.” He pauses for a second, then his eyes light up as he remembers something. “Oh, they had a whole room full of ice sculptures! Have you seen them before? It was so cold in there, like a giant walk-in freezer. They even had a sculpture of me! Wait, I took a picture…”

You smile, leaning into his side as he unlocks his phone and opens up the camera roll. He swipes past about ten selfies of himself before he gets to the ones he wants to show you – the ice sculptures. You’re definitely gonna be asking for copies of the selfies tomorrow.

“I took photos of everything so I could show you,” he explains, stopping on one ice sculpture that is unmistakably Falcon. “How cool is that! I’m an ice sculpture. I mean, not anymore. I’m probably just a puddle of water now but still.”

It’s sweet, the way he’s so excited about how much he’d enjoyed his evening. Even though it’s one in the morning and you wish you were fast asleep, you’re glad to be experiencing the wonder in his eyes and the joy in his voice. How he can be so energetic so late at night though, you don’t understand.

“That’s super cool, baby,” you hum, no longer looking at the photo but up at him.

Joaquin locks his phone and sits it on his bedside table. “Honestly, I think it might’ve been one of the best nights of my life,” he admits.

You raise your eyebrows. “Oh, that’s funny coming from the man who didn’t even want to go in the first place,” you chuckle, amused. You’re a little more awake now, simply from seeing how happy he is. “So, you don’t need those kisses you asked for anymore, then? I can just go back to sleep then.”

He looks down at you. “Okay, so I didn’t say that.”

One of his hands moves to cup your jaw, his thumb gently swiping over your cheek, as he leans in to kiss you again. Despite the fact that he had had a really great night at the gala, it would’ve been made a million times better with you there. And after the kisses you’d shared while he was getting ready, he’s been waiting for this one all night.

The kiss is different to all the ones you’d had before. It’s slow, soft and gentle. It doesn’t last very long, though. Joaquin can tell how tired you are and the last thing he wants is to keep you up any later, especially when he’d been out later than he’d intended on.

“That was nice,” you mutter after he pulls away from the kiss.

“It was,” he agrees, then tilts his head downwards to briefly capture your lips in his again. His teeth nip at your bottom lip, unable to help himself. “But you should get some sleep now, angel. It’s late and you were falling asleep when I came in, I could tell.”

You stifle another yawn and shake your head. “No, I wanna stay up with you longer. I missed you tonight.”

Joaquin’s heart clenches in his chest. You’d been so adamant for him to go, but all this time you’d been at home missing him. You’d even tried staying awake until he’d come home and had barely achieved it.

“I’ll be here when you wake up, angel,” he says, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips. “I missed you tonight, too. Every second that I was at that gala I wished you were with me.”

You smile sleepily as you shuffle down so you can lay down in the bed. Joaquin moves to lay beside you, putting his head on his own pillow, the hand that had been on your face moving to rest on your hip.

“You looked really handsome tonight, baby,” you murmur.

“Thank you, angel,” Joaquin replies softly.

“Next time,” you yawn, unable to stop yourself this time, and shuffle closer to him, burying your head in his chest. “You should negotiate for a plus one.”

Joaquin can’t help but chuckle as he wraps his arm around you. “One step ahead of you, angel.”

~~~

Joaquín Torres Tag List (Please let me know if you’d like to be added!)

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ms-demeanor · 1 year ago

Note

You posted about adhd and I was hoping to follow up to clarify something. I’ve explained to my partner a million times about how the borderline-hoarding mess of his space is very mentally draining to me, and he understands but we’ve both essentially accepted he won’t clean his mess because he can’t because of his adhd. You’re saying he’s actually being a shit head?

This isn't necessarily an issue of him being a shithead, but it also isn't a sustainable situation. It's not good for you and there's a level of clutter that's probably not good for him either.

Large bastard is a lot more clutter-y than I am. The solution we've come to is trying to keep our messes at least isolated from one another; he can have his messes and I can have mine, but he can have those messes in his spaces, not all over the place. Sometimes those messes migrate, and that's when it's important for him to make the effort to rein them in rather than trying and failing to make a daily effort to keep our entire shared space tidy.

I think when you say "we've both essentially accepted he won't clean his mess" what I'm hearing is resignation; you're not happy about this but you don't know what to do so you've thrown up your hands and he feels helpless and unsure of what to do to improve the situation. This is the kind of "it's fine" that isn't really fine.

I think it would be worthwhile for you to each separately think about the mess and talk about it together. Are there areas that YOU *need* to have not-messy? Both for utility and your mental health? Are there areas where you can tolerate more mess than otherwise? Are there areas that are going to be harder for him to keep the mess out of than others? Are there things he doesn't *know* about cleaning up the mess?

I'm obviously a big "communication communication communication" person so I'm going to recommend a lot of talking about stuff, which is probably going to mean a lot of thinking about and interrogating stuff. I'm going to say "talk to him about why the mess bothers you" which means you also have to really articulate to yourself why the mess bothers you (for instance I'm not actually *bothered* by a messy kitchen, but I know it's going to reflect badly on us - and me specifically b/c of presumed gender roles - if someone pops by and the kitchen is a disaster, AND a messy kitchen is going to be harder to use). Genuinely, sometimes knowing *why* something is a problem might make it easier for someone with ADHD to do something. And it's not that he doesn't care that it upsets you, it's just that "Oh if I don't wash my breakfast dishes Anon won't have clear counterspace to make lunch" might be stickier in his brain (and less hard to look at emotionally) than "this thing I forget to do upsets my partner so I should do it."

For the record, I think that people with ADHD should read up on Demand Avoidance and see if it might explain some of the issues that they have in their day-to-day life; I've seen some really unfortunate situations with friends where trying to do things that their partner needed became the subject of demand avoidance. *I* have experienced negative outcomes of demand avoidance. The solution to that, however, isn't to stop making attempts to do the thing OR to simply try harder to do as they're asked/told (which reinforces the demand), it's to work on setting up a situation where the partners' needs are not interpreted as a demand. This is fuck-off difficult and requires a lot of patience and care and many attempts to succeed and will be different for each person and relationship.

(Also for the record demand avoidance isn't *super* strongly linked to ADHD and it's not a definitive symptom; like Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria, it is something that occurs in some number of people with ADHD and can be a useful lens through which to examine various behaviors; you don't need to have DA or RSD to have ADHD, and having DA or RSD also doesn't invalidate your diagnosis; they're symptoms. For me, DA often feels like "if I don't look at it, it can't get me" - If I ignore all the messages I've got they aren't real and don't have real consequences so I'll just ignore my texts. If I don't look at the vendor email about the order, the problem with the order isn't real and it won't get added to my task list. If I don't look at the requests in my inbox I can't let people down when I don't do them. It's a self-protective coping mechanism but it's *maladaptive* and I can't just ignore the vendor email or all my texts. I need to work on a way of doing the stuff that I'm avoiding in a way that makes it less stressful and doesn't hurt the people relying on me. That takes a lot of effort, personal insight, trial and error, and )

But before I dive into specifics I want to be really really clear about one thing: sometimes people are simply incompatible. Sometimes one person has such a low tolerance for "mess" and the other person has such a high threshold for "mess" that it can't be reconciled. It sucks that this can end up being a thing that people break up over, but it is MUCH better to acknowledge incompatibility as early as possible instead of spending years and years building resentment.

There used to be a great forum called MiL's Anonymous that I spent a lot of time on. It had a lot of people in a lot of difficult situations struggling to get by and hold their relationships together. The question that was used as a litmus test to approach each situation was simple: If you knew today that everything about living with this person would be the same in five years, would you stay?

Because you can't control your partner. You can't control the future. You can only control yourself and your proximity to situations that are harmful to you. If you knew, 100%, that things wouldn't get better in five years, would you be okay with staying in this relationship? If the answer is "no," then that's that. Don't worry about questions of whether or not your boyfriend is a shithead, start the process of ending the relationship because there's a good chance the situation is going to be exactly the same in five years.

If the answer is "yes," and you'd stay in the relationship regardless of whether or not things changed, then it's time to take actions to improve your life within the context of the relationship.

(No judgement on that yes or no, btw. If you would hate living like this for another five years, and you would feel like you'd wasted your time and hadn't done the things you wanted to with your life, get out. Bail. Go. It will be better for you and better for your partner if you split instead of spending half a decade building resentments and and problems that you'll have to spend another half a decade healing from.)

Also, a note: you describe your boyfriend's mess as borderline hoarding - is the issue *mess* or is the issue *clutter*? I have friends who are very tidy, but whose homes are very cluttered. They like things, they have many things, they keep many things around, but their houses are always clean and well-dusted and orderly, just with a tremendous amount of *stuff.* I am addressing all of this as though the issue is mess, not clutter. If your boyfriend's situation is clutter (the space is busy and packed with things but it is functional and clean) and your issue isn't with *mess* (things out of place, things not having a place, things that need to be cleaned up gathering in stacks, falling behind on regular chores like laundry and dishes and taking out the trash) then you definitely need to assess whether or not you are compatible.

For instance here's a room that is messy but not cluttered compared to a room that is cluttered but not messy:

That first room is a *mess* but it would be very easy to clean up in under an hour. The second room is fairly tidy, but would take significant effort to pare down and declutter. BOTH of these can be difficult to live with but the second one is not dangerous or threatening to anyone's health. (The second one is QUITE cluttered and if every room in a house looks like this it can be overwhelming to live with; this is actually harder to deal with in a relationship than the first one in a lot of ways. I don't have a lot of advice for what to do if your partner is a high degree of tidy-but-cluttered because I don't actually think it's a problem or wrong to have thousands of books or bins full of lego or a million kitchen appliances as long as you have the space and can keep it safe and well-maintained; this is a really significant compatibility issue)

Okay, all that out of the way, here's the hard work.

Talk about this shit

Talk to your partner and define "mess." Make sure you are on the same page about what you mean when you're talking about what a messy room looks like versus what a tidy room looks like. Gather reference pictures. DRAW reference pictures.

Explain not just that the mess upsets you, but *why* and *how* it upsets you. In this context don't think of it as your boyfriend's mess, think of it as an unpleasant roommate. Discuss this using "I-statements". "When I have to pick up laundry all over the apartment, I feel like a parent more than a partner." "When there are piles of miniatures all over the table, I feel like I don't have anywhere to do things I'm interested in." "When there are dishes in the sink, I feel frustrated because I have to clean before I can feed myself."

Discuss, frankly and openly, whether he knows how to clean. I'm not trying to make excuses for him here but a lot of people with ADHD have a lot of stress and avoidance around cleaning because they spent a lot of time getting yelled at for not knowing how to clean properly.

Discuss your needs, be firm about what you require but willing to compromise. You *need* some spaces to be clean, and some spaces may be harder for him to keep clean than others. It may be MUCH harder for him to keep a bedroom tidy than it is to keep a kitchen tidy; if you need a clean and empty bedroom with everything put away and he simply cannot do that, that is a compatibility issue. But perhaps you need *your* side of the bedroom to be very orderly and can tolerate a moderate level of mess and clutter on his side. Maybe you're really really bothered by a messy kitchen, but it doesn't bug you if the dining table is covered with projects and papers. Figure out something more workable than "his mess goes everywhere and i live with it because he's incapable of cleaning" because he probably is not incapable of cleaning and you deserve to have places in your home that are comfortable for you.

Reduce friction for cleaning

Sometimes the problem isn't cleaning, the problem is the many many steps before cleaning, or not knowing where something should go when you are done cleaning. One of the absolute best things I've done for myself for cleaning my space is getting a broom holder and mounting the broom to the wall. Sweeping is now essentially thoughtless. I don't have to find the broom or pull it out from a pile of fans or go scrounging around for a dustpan it's right there on the wall, frictionless. So here are some ways to reduce the barriers to cleaning:

Make sure you and your partner both know how to use your cleaning supplies and know where those supplies are. When I switched dishwasher soap I had to re-show Large Bastard where I was storing it and how it was used, because to him what happened was the dishwasher tabs just vanished one day and he didn't know what I was putting in the machine or the process I used. He sometimes puts tools away in places that I can't see (he's more than a foot taller than me) so sometimes I can't get started on a maintenance project until he shows me where he put the battery pack for the drill.

Consider making a how-to chart to or having him make a how-to chart to keep someplace accessible so he can reference it while cleaning. Goblin.Tools Magic ToDo is great for this. Basically a lot of the time people with ADHD have trouble knowing what to do from step to step even if they've done something before, so having a step by step guide can make it easier (I have notebooks full of step-by-step guides for everything from paying for my tuition to removing licenses for my customers to weeding my yard)

Remove obstacles; don't keep cleaning chemicals in the garage in a box that's behind a stack of parts, keep them in the room you'll be cleaning. Don't keep the cleaning supplies that you use to clean the bathroom in the kitchen. Sometimes this means buying two bottles of bleach solution and two scrubbers and two sets of cleaning gloves but having fewer steps (fetch the windex, fetch the paper towels, fetch the gloves) is often the key to getting things done (open under-sink cabinet and grab windex, gloves, and paper towels that are there instead of in the kitchen).

This sort of overlaps with the next category, which is:

Create Dump Zones

One thing that I've found that seems very different between people with ADHD cleaning and neurotypical people cleaning is that neurotypical people are good at getting to a point where the cleaning is "done." They have checked off their tasks and they have finished and it is over. There are *SOME* chores that are like this (taking out the trash is a binary state, the trash has been taken out or it has not) and some chores are perpetual (horrid cursed dishes) but I think with people with ADHD, some chores that are binary for neurotypicals are actually perpetual chores. For instance "clean off the counter" is not a one and done for me. "Clean off the counter" may involve a three day reorganization project. "Clean off the counter" does not mean "wipe down the tile and put dishes away" it means assessing whether or not I need to make vegetable stock and bleaching three tea containers and reconsidering whether or not the sharps container should live somewhere else and going through the mail and figuring out what needs to be responded to and taking out the recycling and on and on and on.

We have had company at the house for the last two weeks, so I asked large bastard to clean off the dining room table, which is largely a project zone for him. Cleaning off the dining room table meant putting away his meds (and since he's a transplant patient that involves a 30 gallon rubbermade tote), throwing away some trash, and totally reorganizing his workshop. It also incidentally involved picking up a table from facebook marketplace and moving my plants, which has now involved moving my former plant rack outside (moving buckets, finding and organizing planters and gardening tools) and taking the former table to the thrift store (not done yet) and cleaning the rug that was under the former table. So "either the table is clean, or it isn't" isn't really true for us.

HOWEVER "hang on we can't eat until the table is clear so let's drive to Pico Rivera to get that console table right now" isn't a workable plan, so you create dumpzones as areas of holding between the start and the finish of the chore.

A dump zone can be a laundry basket. It can be a craft bin. It can be a back room or under your bed. It is a place to put things that you are going to deal with later because if you deal with them now it is going to derail the thing you are actually trying to do, which is set the table for dinner.

Dump zones are vital to cleaning with ADHD and I recommend them for day-to-day cleaning as well. The day-to-day dump zones might be more for you than for your boyfriend. For instance, Large Bastard works with bullets and he sheds bullets all over the house. I used to get stressed when I found bullets when I was cleaning because are these work bullets? Are these recreational bullets? Are they in testing? Do they need to be pulled? Do they go in the workshop or the office or the garage or does he need these today so they have to stay on the counter? And the answer now is "that's not my problem naughty bullets go in the jar." Which is perfectly sensible because he gets to say "mystery yarn goes in the bin" and "art supplies go in the bucket."

I feel helpless when cleaning a lot of the time. I'm frustrated and lost and I don't know where stuff goes and everything I pick up spins off into three projects in my head and every step feels like a wall to scale. Dump zones help me with that when there's pressure or a reason for cleaning beyond day to day home maintenance. People are coming over? The bedroom is a dump zone, I'll deal with that later. I'm just cleaning up because I need to? Okay I can find a permanent home for this new dish soap.

AS A VERY IMPORTANT COROLLARY TO THIS:

Active projects do not go in dump zones while you or your partner are cleaning. This may mean designating a project sanctuary area like a corner of the table or one particular chair in your main room where a project can be placed so as not to be disturbed. (if my current crochet project ends up in the yarn bin, that may mean that I don't pick the project up for another three months, it lives on the windowsill behind the couch because that's where it'll get worked on)

Do not put things away for your partner, put them in the dump zone for your partner. Your partner has to be the one to put their own stuff away in a way that works for them. I tend to find that this naturally puts a limit on the time stuff sits in the dump zone, because eventually you'll go "hey where's my thing?" and will put stuff away. If that doesn't happen, it's still generally better to have stuff in a dump zone than all over the home.

Do not decide you know what things go together from your partner's stuff and try to "put like things together." The neurotypical urge to put like things together is the mindkiller(j/k). You do not know which things are "similar" in your partner's organization schema and attempting to organize things on your own is going to end up with all of the things "organized" being functionally lost forever from your partner's perspective. Large Bastard's mom would do this and it was infuriating, she'd say "oh I put all the electronics stuff in one box" and she would mean soldering irons, transistors, ham radios, HDMI cables, and cellphone chargers. We are *still* going through boxes of stuff that she "tidied up" when he was hospitalized in 2020 and 2021.

To prevent the need for quite so many dump zones over time, you can work on setting up landing zones and "homes" for projects and tools.

Landing Zones

Landing zones are places where things go when you come inside from doing various things. Sometimes your landing zone only needs to be a tray for your wallet and keys, sometimes your landing zone needs to be a place to take off muddy boots and put a trowel and gloves down before you shower.

To make an effective landing zone, consider what behaviors you're trying to minimize and whether the people using it are ACTUALLY going to use it. For instance I was tired of the corner of my hearth getting cluttered with random junk so I hung up some hooks and put a shelf and a basket there and it became a really effective landing zone for my bag and keys and the mail, but it was VERY ineffective for Large Bastard because it's by a door that isn't the primary door he uses to enter the house. As a result I always know where my keys and bag are but he has trouble finding his keys and wallet. He tends to enter the house through our bedroom and has an overloaded valet next to the door and that's usually where his wallet ends up. Mounting a shelf to the wall above the valet and putting a basket and a hook on it will be a better place for his stuff to land. It's not that he's not using the first zone because he doesn't know that it's there, or because he doesn't care about lost time when I'm searching for my car keys after he borrows them, he's not using it because it's not by the door he uses. That's all.

I have a landing space for when I come in for gardening that's different than the one when I come in from grocery shopping. I have a landing space for when I walk into the dining room instead of the kitchen when I get home.

Landing spaces prevent stuff from piling up all over the place because they are a limited functional space that should be used frequently. Mail ONLY goes in the landing zone. If you have mystery mail or if you're not sure it's safe to toss, you put it in the landing zone. You can't let the mail get piled up too high or you won't have a space for your keys. You can't let the change in your wallet tray get too deep or your wallet is going to slide off, etc., but you also don't just put change on the coffee table or your nightstand because the landing zone is right there.

Homes for items are just what they sound like. They're the place the item goes. It lives there. My meds live on my nightstand. You would not believe how poorly I did with taking my meds on my vacation because they weren't on my nightstand. A while back large bastard lost one of his sets of sorted meds and we tore the house up looking for them because he couldn't find them in his nightstand, which is where they live. *I* found them in his nightstand because I emptied out the entire top drawer (he had only looked on the top layer) and found them underneath a radio and a hammock. Even though they were *hidden* they were in their home, so they were findable. I recently needed ink for an art class. Art supplies live in a dresser by my desk. Ink lives in the art bin or the top left drawer. The ink was not in either of these places (it was on a cabinet in the dining room behind a teacup) so it took me weeks to find it.

Sometimes the reason that ADHD spaces are so messy is because objects have been assigned homes in places that are visible and if they get moved they get lost. This is a genuinely difficult problem that requires a lot of effort to solve and can involve a lot of trial and error for creating a tidy living space. For some people, open shelving and visible storage might be a good solution. For some people, assigning a VERY clear home and inculcating that location by habit is the only way to clean up a space. For some people one very cluttered corner to at least isolate the chaos does the trick (for me and large bastard open shelving doesn't work because anything in one place for too long becomes invisible; that means that I rely on assigning things homes and large bastard relies on having contained chaos and a general idea of where to search but what that DOES NOT mean is that he is clean or tidy. His spaces look like an explosion. But he can mostly find his stuff and do what he needs to do and as long as that's limited to specific places in shared spaces I can live with it; the dining room table can be a disaster, the kitchen cannot).

People organize things differently. It often takes a while for neurotypical adults to settle into an organizational style that works for them and ADHD adults may need to settle into a new system every few months for it to continue working. The cleanup and declutter is most likely going to be a permanent project that is always going to demand some level of attention from everyone in a shared space, but "my ADHD means I can't do it" is not really going to fly. Maybe his ADHD means that he can't keep his space tidy, but it doesn't mean you can't move stuff from shared spaces into dump zones or that he can't do stuff around the house.

If he's insisting that his ADHD means that he can't clean it is possible that he's not being a shithead, he just feels helpless and doesn't know where to start and has adopted the belief that he's a useless piece of shit who can't even keep a tidy space like a grownup because he's internalized a lot of shitty attitudes (hello, my internal monologue about keeping a clean house). But it's also possible that he's just being a shithead.

It's something that's worthwhile to investigate with him. If he's unwilling to make an attempt, then he's being a shithead.

It is also not your responsibility to rehabilitate another person. If he wants to clean and it's something he feels bad about and needs some help and support with the way that someone might need help or support for learning to use a mobility aid, that is fine but you don't have to be the one who gives him that support if it's detrimental to your health, and you don't have to be the one to teach him that stuff if it's not something you're capable of. And if he is NOT interested in working on making your shared living space more accessible for you, that is not your suitcase to unpack and you just have to ask yourself the question from the start: would I stay with this person if I knew the situation was never going to change?

IDK, I'm sure a lot of this reads like "anon you must take on the emotional labor of training your partner to be an adult" but it's really meant to be more of a way of assessing yourself and your relationship. If you created landing zones do you think he'd use them? Would he get angry if you assigned a laundry basket as a dump zone for his stuff while you tidy the living room? Is living with him long-term going to be comfortable for you if nothing changes? Do you have enough of a shared definition of "mess" that you're at least in the ballpark for what counts as a clean house?

anyway good luck, and a reminder to folks that I'm compiling a bunch of adhd resources and other information on my personal website, ms-demeanor.com. It's coming along slowly but it will eventually include stuff like ADHD cleaning tips and how to tackle a hoard, so maybe keep your eye on that space.

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wqlfstqr · 3 months ago

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◟𖥻 sleeper build : percy jackson

▰▰ pairing: percy jackson x fem!reader

Four times Percy showed off his strenght and had y/n swooning over him.

mari talks! i'm so weak for sleeper build sorry i literally woke up to write this.

warnings: slight mention of percy being taller than reader, use of petnames, protective!percy, use of y/n, i think that's all.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

the time he moved her bookshelf

It's not like she didn’t know that Percy was strong, she wasn't dumb. Of course he was. She had seen him wield Riptide like it was made of air, lift entire pieces of debris off wounded campers and, you know, survive and come victorious out of battles against gods.

But somehow, she always saw him as just Percy. Cute, funny— infuriating sometimes, but undeniably cute. His messy dark hair and those ridiculously pretty sea-green eyes, the way of carrying himself that made him look effortlessly cool and how he always had had a comment that never failed to make her laugh. That was what made her fall for him.

But she had never stopped to think about his strength outside of those battles, on his day to day he was only percy, who sometimes tripped over his own feet and wore hoodies and tshirts that hung loosely on his frame. It was hard to think about him any other way.

That is, of course, until she asks him for help to move her bookshelf.

"Are you sure you don't need help?" She asks, still shy about having to bother him.

"No, I've got it." He sends her a small, reassuring smile before crouching to grab the bookshelf.

Still, she is about to offer her help when he suddenly hoists the entire bookshelf up like it weighs nothing. And y/n—

She forgets how to breathe.

Because she is suddenly aware of how strong he is, not only because he is carrying that damn bookshelf as if it's nothing to him, but also because his forearm flexes, his biceps pulling against his sleeves, the shirt that is supposedly loose on him now seems too small for his arms.

"Where do you want to put it?" He asks but— gods forgive her, she is not thinking about where to put that bookshelf at all.

He must have noticed her lack of answer, because he looks over his shoulder to find her gaping at him, he raises an eyebrow. "Are you okay?"

She doesn't reply, simply blinking at him. Oh, the gods are being cruel with her. His shirt has ridden up slightly and she's able to see his toned stomach and those arms. He looks like one of those Greek statues on Mount Olympus, all effortless strength and power. Not fair at all.

"y/n?" he tries again, actually worried because she has gone pale white and is definitely not breathing.

"Yes?" she blinks dumbly at him before she realizes he is waiting for an answer. "Oh! um— I wanted to move it to that corner."

Oh. she is dooomed.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

the time he picked her up

She's in the weapons closet, trying to pick up a bag of arrows that's on the top shelf. She can usually reach things herself, but the last person to clean the closet was clearly taller and didn’t stop to think about putting the damn arrows so high that she couldn't reach.

"Need any help, doll?" She would've been scared if she didn’t recognize Percy's voice right away, and turning her head, she found him resting against the doorway and smiling at her.

Going back to looking at the shelf, she shakes her head. Ever since he helped her with that bookshelf, she has been avoiding him because the only thing she can think about when looking at him is him carrying that bookshelf and the way his shirt hugged his arms. Gods, she's probably red already.

In her sudden distraction, she doesn’t notice Percy stepping towards her until suddenly he's hoisting her on his arms, his hands wrapping around her waist as he raises her without any effort, and— yes, she can die already.

"Well? can you reach what you wanted now?" He asks, as if this is an everyday occurrence.

She's short-circuiting, and it takes her a long minute to actually remember what she was trying to get on the shelf before she finally reaches for the bag of arrows.

Then Percy sets her down on her feet again, she's afraid he'll be able to see how flustered she he is, but if he does, he doesn’t show it as he simply smiles at her. "Alright, need anything else?"

And when she shakes her head, he simply nods and walks away, not even noticing that he left her speechless and blushing furiously while she hugged the bag to her chest.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

the time he used her for push ups

it's briefly after they start dating, and she has pretty much forgotten about the other two incidents, or at least she has tried to. Sometimes, it's hard to stop herself from shamelessly checking him out, especially when he's training.

Right now, when she finally finishes with her training, she goes to find him and he jogs towards her once his eyes find hers, pressing a kiss against her temple when he's close. "Hey, pretty girl. I'm almost finished here."

she nods, and she's about to suggest they go do something together after training, when Clarisse's voice cuts through the moment. "Hey, Jackson! whoever does push-ups for longer?"

They do this often after training, always competing against eachother in whatever way they can think of. So it's no surprise when Percy immediately accepts. "Oh, You're on."

And then, he's dropping into a plank position with ease, as if it's just another part of his training routine.

y/n rolls her eyes playfully while Clarisse and him start doing push-ups at an absurd pace. But she goes to sit down with the other campers that are watching, her eyes never leaving Percy— totally not paying attention to the way Percy's shirt sticks to his back or how his arms flex everytime he pushes himself off the ground. Nope. Not at all.

Clarisse is strong, she's probably the only one that's able to match Percy's energy, so she manages herself just fine for a long moment. But being exposed to that much sun and the pace of those push-ups, it's no wonder her arms start shaking slightly even if she's still not giving up.

But Percy notices she's growing tired and he smirks, barely winded. "Honestly, La Rue, this is way too easy." He tells her, and y/n knows he's already plotting something just by the look of amusement on his face.

And that's when his gaze shifts to her, and she's already looking at him because— come on, of course she was looking at him while he did those stupid push-ups, can't blame her.

But Percy's smirk widens when he notices the way her eyes drop to his arms as if she can't help it. She really can't.

Clarisse, completely oblivious to this exchange, snorts while she tries to push herself up again. "What? are you going to do them one-handed?"

Percy's sea-green eyes are fixated on y/n, twinkling with something very dangerous as he briefly replies to Clarisse. "Have a better idea." and then, he supports himself with one hand to pat his back with the other. "Come here, pretty girl."

She blinks rapidly, suddenly surprised. "What?"

"You heard me, doll, I need the extra weight." He replies simply, patting again as if he doesn’t find anything odd with his request.

This man is about to make her combust, she's sure of it as she takes a sharp breath and moves to straddle his back. Because, let's be honest, there's no way she can say no to him.

Percy barely reacts to the added weight. Like at all. Even Clarisse is surprised, panting and trying to keep up with the push-ups. "What the hell, Jackson?"

And y/n? she is losing her mind.

And Percy knows this, because he simply laughs, voice enterely too smug. "Impressed, doll?"

She's, in fact, extremely impressed but she won't admit it. "No."

But obviously, she remains impressed through the whole thing, especially when Clarisse finally drops to the ground and he's able to do five more efortless push-ups before he finally stops.

Yeah, she's definitely impressed. And flustered.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

the time he scared some boy away

Even months after, after they had finally started dating, she still finds herself utterly surprised in those moments where he shows his strenght. She just never got used to it.

Right now, for example.

They are spending their day at Central Park. She's chatting with Piper while they wait for the guys to come back with their coffee orders, when a guy suddenly walks towards them.

"Hey." he smiles confidently at her, not even acknowledging Piper. "You're very pretty and uh- I was wondering if I could get your number."

Alright, straightforward— she blinks at him, surprised while trying to process his words. He's at most decent-looking, tall and broad shoulders but he is no Percy. And her only interest is Percy.

"Sorry, I have a boyfriend." and of course the dude looks at her in disbelief, as if he's expecting her to say she's lying. She fights the urge to roll her eyes at him as she points at Percy.

The guy follows her hand towards the coffee cart where Percy stands, chatting with Jason while they wait for their orders. Her boyfriend is casually slouched against the cart, looking effortlessly relaxed with a cap over his messy hair and a loose shirt he had thrown on in a hurry in the morning.

Gods, he's so effortlessly handsome.

Piper has to actually nudge her with her elbow because she's already so distracted staring that she forgets about the weird dude trying to get her number.

"That guy?" He sounds almost pitying, y/n can almost see Piper rolling her eyes. "Come on, pretty, you surely can do better than that"

She immediately furrows her eyebrows, Who does this guy thinks he is? he did not just—

Before she can even think about a surely offensive reply, a familiar arm wraps around her shoulders, tugging her back against a solid, warm chest. Percy. She knows him by scent alone, and when she tilts her head back to look at him, she's able to catch the glint of amusement in his beautiful eyes.

"Everything good around here, pretty girl?" He asks, pressing a kiss against her temple before he looks at the guy in front of her, an underlying shine of challenge on his eyes.

And, oh— oh! he's flexing.

It isn't too obvious, but she can feel it, the subtle kind of flex that makes the veins on his forearms stand out a little, the fabric of his sleeve tightening slightly as the firm biceps wrap around her shoulders, his other arm sneaks around her waist. She could die happy right there.

The stupid guy in front of her definitely notices too, because his eyes drop towards Percy's forearm curved protectively around her, his smirk slowly disappearing as Percy's own grin only gets bigger.

"Need something, man?" Her boyfriend asks, acting completely innocent as if he doesn’t know exactly what he's doing.

The guy barely manages to shake his head before he's walking away in defeat, his friends are already waiting for him while they snicker and tease him about his fail on getting her number.

"Percy, man, I think I've fallen in love with you." Jason tells him, blinking at him in amusement.

y/n is inclined to agree with him, but she's not going to admit it out loud, instead she turns to him with an almost accusatory look. "You did that on purpose."

Percy shrugs, passing her a cup of coffee as he tries to hide his mischievous smile. "Maybe, a little."

She groans, covering her flustered face with her hands. "Gods, you're so hot." she admits quietly, only for him to hear.

Percy chuckles delighted, wrapping his arm around her waist again, strong arms pushing her closer to him as they walk behind Piper and Jason.

"I think I need to sit down. My legs feel weak." she tells him before she can process her words.

"That's the caffeine hitting, doll." he presses his lips against her temple once again, sweet and comforting.

"No, that's your fault."

Percy only laughs, and yes, she's definitely blushing.

#𐙚 mari's fics #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson #pjo #pjo series #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson oneshot #one shot #percy jackson imagine

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deonsx · 5 months ago

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Hello! I would like to request any bllk boys with a athletic girlfriend who also plays a sport! How are they supportive/react at their games/events, etc!

Ps. I’m a new bluelock reader and i’m loving your stuff! 🩵

Heya!! You are so cute, I'm glad you like my stuff ʕ༼◕ ౪ ◕✿༽ʔ +Sae,Nagi,Kaiser

Sae Itoshi

♡ Sae would always make time to attend her games or events whenever possible, sitting calmly in the stands. He’d analyze her performance with the same sharp eye he uses for soccer, appreciating her skill and dedication. While he might not be the loudest cheerleader, his presence alone speaks volumes

♡ Post-game, Sae would offer feedback, not in a condescending way, but in a way that acknowledges her strengths while subtly pointing out areas she could improve. He values excellence and would want to see her reach her full potential, just as he pushes himself to do the same

♡ If she ever feels down after a loss or a bad performance, Sae’s calm demeanor would balance her emotions. He might not be the most overtly comforting person, but his quiet reassurances like “You’re better than this. You’ll bounce back” would mean a lot to her

♡ Their shared athleticism could lead to some playful one-on-one matches in their respective sports, each pushing the other to improve. Sae’s competitive nature would shine through, but he’d still enjoy seeing her best him in her field of expertise

Nagi Seishiro

♡ Nagi isn’t the type to make a big deal out of things, but he’d always find a way to be there for her games or events, even if he doesn’t seem overly enthusiastic. He might slouch in the stands with his phone in hand, but his focus would still be on her, occasionally muttering “She’s so cool when she does that”

♡ Nagi’s simple compliments like “You looked awesome out there” or “That was a crazy good play” might seem offhanded, but they’d mean the world because he doesn’t say things lightly

♡ If she’s feeling the pressure, Nagi’s relaxed attitude would help ease her nerves. He might say something like “It’s not that deep. Just do your thing it’s easy” which could help her find a sense of calm before competing

♡ While Nagi doesn’t put in a lot of effort in general, he’s a genius at figuring out shortcuts and unconventional strategies. He might offer her advice or tricks for her sport, phrasing it like, “I’d probably do it like this. It seems easier”

Kaiser Michael

♡ Kaiser would be her biggest supporter, showing up to her games dressed to impress and making sure everyone knows he’s her boyfriend. He’d cheer loudly, often calling attention to her accomplishments with phrases like “That’s my queen out there!”

♡ Kaiser would shower her with confidence before her games, saying things like, “You’re going to destroy them today, no question” or “No one stands a chance against you. you’ve got the Kaiser seal of approval” He’d always make her feel like she’s the best

♡ If anyone on her team or an opponent tries to flirt with her or compliments her too much, Kaiser would get noticeably possessive. He might say something like “Yeah, she’s amazing, but don’t forget she’s mine”

♡ After a victory, Kaiser would insist on celebrating in an extravagant way dinners, gifts, or even throwing a party. He’d treat every win like it’s a world championship

Enjoy!

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captainreecejames · 1 year ago

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fired by a thirst trap || my ex is a footballer LH44 Edition

summary you date footballer kylian mbappe, that is until a lewis hamilton thirst trap hits the timeline

pairing ex!kylian mbappe x reader, lewis hamilton x reader

faceclaim bruna marquezine

warnings mbappe slander

notes first, please pretend that mbappe to real madrid was announced in april of this year, second please pretend that the golden doodle on the yacht is actually roscoe. thank you for the suspension of disbelief (or however the phrase goes).

part 2

twitter ----------

ynusername posted--------

liked by lewishamilton, mercedesamgf1 and others

ynusername before, during, and after the miami gp

load more comments

yourmanager that's right she's hot and she knows it ↳ ynusername 😘😘

mercedesamgf1 loved having you yn, come again soon ↳ ynusername thank you so much for having me!!

yourstylist from Miami to the met gala! ↳ ynusername light work 💪🏼

username12 she's so pretty it makes me want to die og

username13 that post break up glowup really is hitting

username1 how childish to break up with someone over what they wore to a date, yn your a bitch ↳ ynusername *you're 😉 ↳ username2 LOL SUCKS TO SUCK username1

lewishamilton you're gonna kill it on the carpet later ↳ ynusername you + me = slaying the met gala carpet ↳ lewishamilton you 🤝me = killing it on the dancefloor

username14 yn what have you done with my weird ass uncle?? you're making him cool

username15 I'm crying yn is really making lewis enter his active era again ↳ username16 if a woman as beautiful as yn was talking to me you bet your ass I'm refreshing my phone to see if she said something ↳ username15 you 🤝 lewis simping after yn

twitter --------

ynusername posted ----------

liked by lewishamilton, roscoelovescoco and others

ynusername but it's the monaco grand prix

load more comments

lewishamilton is it? Who's playing? ↳ ynusername no one's playing. its the grand prix, I never miss the Monaco grand prix ↳ lewishamilton 😂😉

roscoelovescoco we loves yous ❤️❤️ ↳ ynusername Roscoe 🫶🏼😭 ↳ username26 not Roscoe using a red heart ↳ username6 next thing we know roscoe's account is locked by merc 😭

username27 forget the red heart yn's got lewis participating in memes. merc admin is screaming crying throwing up rn ↳ username28 mercedes social media team has been begging lewis to do content, meanwhile he's over here giggling kicking his feet with yn

username29 fuck all y'all, who got yn the roses ↳ username30 idk probably the man who's yacht she's on ↳ ynusername 🤐🤐

username35 when her and lewis treat the paddock as their own personal fashion show, you won't catch me complaining ↳ username36 I know the French man is crying right now, she upgraded so fucking hard ↳ username37 she's just a gold digging whore, glad he left her ↳ username36 idk, maybe if he made an effort SHE wouldn't have left him

charles_leclerc was lovely meeting you yn! ↳ ynusername HEY get off your phone and go enjoy your win!!! 😠 ↳ charles_leclerc okay mom ↳ username31 someone update the f1 family tree, yn is now Charles mom via her relationship with lewis ↳ ynusername I'm too young to be a mom, let alone a grandma. 😂😂

twitter ----------

post note: also, in my head this was going all the way past the canadian grand prix and going to feature some of the mercedes social media admin debacles, but it got too long and i really don't want to pile on to them when I think they got fired.

#lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x fem!reader #lewis Hamilton smau #formula 1 imagine #read #formula 1 smau #kylian mbappe x reader #my ex is a footballer series #danielle writes

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art-by-jas · 2 months ago

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(18+ only) nsfw alphabet– John Carter

A/N: This is only about s1-mid s4 because I'm only that far into ER, but I wanted to write this. So my views might change after S4, and I'll have to redo this. Enjoy; hopefully, this is spot on. Don't be afraid of dming me or commenting.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Carter is really fucked out exhausted after having sex, regardless of what you two do. It takes him a moment to come back to earth before he gets into action to clean you up and fetch you a glass of water. You find it so adorable how his hair is so unruly after fooling around. Which leads you to press soft kisses along his freckled cheeks and nose.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His favorite body part on himself would be his eyes, given how much you compliment him on them. Every time you mention his eyes, he blushes deeply and smiles, making the creases around his eyes more pronounced, which you, of course, comment on.

His favorite body part of yours is probably your tits, which he would jokingly answer. However, if he’s being honest, he would say it’s your smile. He adores the way your smile lights up your face, and he loves that he can make you smile with a silly pun or when he clumsily knocks into something, sending it crashing to the ground.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He loves coming inside you; sometimes he can barely hold on before the end, so he has to think of procedures and surgeries to hold off on his orgasm. He doubles his efforts to make you come, playing with your clit, playing with your tits, and sucking on your neck. Anything to get you to come first or at the same time, so he can time it.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He’s been thinking about pegging, but whenever he wants to bring it up to you,. He’ll just look at you, and his face heats up imagining it, and he loses his confidence.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

(S1-4!Carter)

He’s been around the block quite a bit so far, so I’d say he’s pretty experienced. Now, do I think he knows everything? No. He knows the basics, I would say, but hey, I’m sure you can teach him new things he’ll never forget anytime soon.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Cowgirl. He goes feral when you’re riding him. Just the feel of you on top of him, he’ll grip onto your thighs and waist and toss his head back. He’s in heaven. He also likes doggystyle; he loves the way your ass jiggles every time his hips slap against it.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Carter is adorable and such a goober, unless you are right about to come. At the start, he’ll keep doing little things to make you laugh, but when your climax is near, he’ll talk you through it or just let out a series of punched out sounding moans.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

I don’t think he’s hairy at all; he’s very smooth. Shaves frequently, keeping it nice and neat.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

His face is buried in your neck, puffing hot breath against your skin. His arms are wrapped tightly around you or gripping you. Anyway, the more he can touch you, the better he feels.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He’s fine at work; he wouldn’t have to jerk off. He can be an adult and wait until he’s home. Now, if you come to visit him while he’s on shift. Oh, you better believe he’s hitting the bathroom and rubbing one out.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Praise Kink

Loves tights/fishnets

Dirty Talk

Exhibitionist (Slightly; when you two have a quickie in the hospital, HE LOVES SAYING, “Oh, you better keep quiet; or do you want them to hear you getting fucked hard?”

Biting

Scratching

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

At home. So he can lay you out and take his time, and for you and him to be as loud as you guys want.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Literally anything with him. He’s like a teenager; anything you do will have him biting his lip, and his cheeks are red. He notices your oral fixation every time you’re writing; you bite the top of the pen, and it has him zoning out.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

No is no. If you are not comfortable with it, then neither is he. You two will have a talk if either wants to try something new to make sure you are both on board.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He’s pretty 50/50 on this, where he loooooves receiving, but that doesn’t mean he thrives in making your thighs shake as he’s eating you out.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He’s a slow starter, but once he gets going, he’s fast and relentless.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

If you’re visiting him at the hospital, it almost always ends with him taking you by the hand and trying to quickly find an empty room so you two can have a quick fuck.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Carter will act surprised when you suggest something more kinky, but he is always down to try anything at least once. He got low-key into choking, not BIG into it, but feeling your hand around his neck made his heart flutter and his eyes roll back.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

I’d say he can go about 2 rounds before he has to stop fucking you, but he has a mouth and fingers for a reason, so if you want to keep going, he’s not going to stop just because he’s still recovering.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

You introduce him to toys in the bedroom; I don’t think any of his previous girlfriends were into toys. You have a few toys inside your bedside table. One time, you leave it open, and Carter sees it and asks about them. It leads to you teaching Carter about pressing your little vibrator right to your clit and slowly circling it. The result has you arching your back and Carter looking at you with an amazed look in his eyes while his face feels like it’s on fire.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

You are the one who teases and torments him, he would claim. Always saying dirty little things to him right before you leave him after visiting him at the hospital. One time, you told him you were wearing the expensive lingerie set he bought for you for your birthday under your outfit. You kissed him goodbye and left County, leaving Carter stunned, standing there, eyes widening.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Pathetic whining, moaning, grunting, and broken sentences.

“Oh. oh, fuck, yes, y-yes… Please, please… Oh, you f-feel so good. You’re so tight. I’m not gonna last.”

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

I feel like he’d have a checklist of every room in the hospital you two fucked in. He’s making it his mission by the time he finishes residency in the ER to have fucked in every room.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He is PACKING. The man has a great dick. It’s part of the wonderful package that is Carter; he’s smart, funny, clumsy, and has a big dick.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

I think you guys match. There are days he just wants to snuggle, and then there are days he can barely keep his hands off of you. Vice versa.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

After he takes care of you and makes sure you’re okay and cleaned up. He gathers you close and has you lie on his chest or spoons you and just nods off.

Masterlist

#ER #er 1994 #er nbc #dr john carter #john carter #john truman carter iii #john carter x reader #reader insert #headcannons #i blacked out when making this #fan fiction

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tetsumie · 11 months ago

Note

Love your writings so so much!!! Pretty please can i ask for angsty to fluff sunarin to heal my broken heart

𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

pairing: suna rintaro x reader

genre: hurt/comfort

content: suna's been playing the argument the both of you had on repeat in his head and he decides it's time that he proves to you that he wants to make this work

a/n: hi bby <3 ofc i can write angsty/fluffy sunarin i hope u like it and this could meet your expectations! i hope that this helps mend your broken heart love u always and if you ever need anything i'm always here to talk <3

suna is staring at the ceiling in his apartment.

his vision shifts towards the bright red numbers "3:07" glaring at him menacingly.

he shifts his body to turn away from the clock as he coddles a pillow next to him, holding it as if it's the most precious thing he has.

i destroyed the most precious thing in my life. the overthinking demons begin to plague his conscience.

he wonders what you're doing right now. he hopes that you're asleep but he knows you're probably cramming last minute for that midterm you have for your class tomorrow.

he sighs.

he opens his phone and presses your contact, thumb hovering over the call button.

he just wants to hear your voice. at least once.

ah, fuck it.

his finger presses the call button and it begins to ring. and ring. and ring. and ring. and ring.

he's beginning to lose hope as the ring continues to go on until he hears his favorite sound in the world.

"rin?"

rin.

"hello? rin?"

he clears his throat, realizing he's just been lying there, not speaking a word.

"hi baby."

"what's wrong? why are you up? don't you have pract-" you start questioning him.

"don't worry about it hun. it's all good," he sighs into the phone. "just wanted to hear your voice right now."

you hum in response.

the hurtful words he said to you a couple nights ago are playing on loop in his mind and he's unsure of what to say now.

"did you need something rin?" you begin. "you don't usually call me.. voluntarily."

he knows he doesn't. he's always been the nonchalant one in the relationship, always waiting for you to make the first move. you've always been the one to suggest going out or planning a night in. he became so used to you always being there. he never thought you wouldn't be there anymore.

you were never supposed to get out of the picture.

"i really miss you."

you're silent.

"i know you don't believe me but i really miss you."

suna knows you're having a tough time believing him. every time you would try to bring up how you wish he'd put in just a bit more effort, he always brushed it off. but when you had brought up again for the nth time a couple days ago, asking if he could at least plan something for just the two of you, he gave out on you.

"i don't have the time for this shit. i have a professional career i'm working towards and i don't have the extra time to get distracted."

he remembers the words like they were written on the back of his hand. god, he can't forget the way your beautiful features etched into a look of pure heartbreak.

god, he can't that look out of his head.

but the worst thing plaguing his mind was your response.

"rin, i just want you to act like you at least care about me. i feel like you don't care about us anymore."

god, if he could express into words how much he deeply cares for you, your relationship, and everything that has to do with you. he wants you wholeheartedly but he can't seem to express that properly.

"right," your voice is curt. sharp. it cuts like a blade into him.

he gulps.

you're hurting and he can feel it from miles away.

and the silent treatment that you've been giving one another has not been helping to heal that pain ever since that horrid dispute.

"i realized how shitty of a boyfriend i've been to you."

you're silent, waiting for him to continue.

"you wanted me to reciprocate the time and effort you put into making this relationship work and i didn't do that. it was the least i could have done; you're right."

"rin i-" he interrupts you.

he's sitting up now in his bed, staring out the window of his bedroom.

"no, wait please let me finish."

you're silent and he takes it as his cue.

"the fact that you felt like i never cared about you — about us — this entire time truly shows how much of a shitty person i've been to you and to our relationship. i'm supposed to be the one there for you yet i never was. your absence in my life for the past couple days has affected me in ways that i don't even know could be possible"

he continues although he hears what could've been a sniffle.

"i don't know how else to put it into words but i miss you so bad, y/n. you don't have to forgive me — i wouldn't blame you — but i just want you to know that if you don't want to do this anymore with me, i understand. i'll love you no matter what your decision is."

"you love me?" your voice comes to life on the other end of the line completely caught off guard.

oh my god.

he smiles to himself as he stares at the vast dark room in front of him. "yes i love you. i always have."

"from the moment you walked into the sports psychology lecture late to the time you spilled coffee all over my brand new jersey to the time you had your sickly chicken pox. i've loved you ever since and i won't let you go."

you're silently digesting the information that he threw at you all in one sitting.

it's dead silent and suna is nervous. he wants to know what you're thinking, how you look like right now, how you're feeling.

he really wants to see you right now. to be there with you right now.

the overthinking demons begin to make their entrance in his mind as he begins to speak. "i'm sorry, i shouldn't have done this over the phone. i should've done this in person. i'm just too nervous to even say a word because what i want to say gets lost and then-"

"rin," you stop him before he can continue his ramble.

"yes?"

"i love you too."

oh my god.

his heart is beating out of his chest and he's stuck. his mouth is slightly agape, stunned by your confession. after everything he's done with you, you still love him?

"are you sure?" he asks to confirm.

"why are you literally trying to deny my confession to you right now?" you give a watery chuckle which he can instantly hear through.

"i don't deserve you," he states and he feels his eyes water a little bit.

"yeah you don't," you laugh in hopes of lightening the mood but the laugh dies down in your throat.

a comfortable silence holds between the two of you.

"i'm sorry for keeping you up so late. please get some rest-" he begins but is this time interrupted by you.

"can you come over?" your small voice interrupts. "obviously if it's not a bother... i just want to, um, see you right now. if that's okay."

his heart beats faster.

"are you sure?"

"yes please," you sound so frail. "please come over rin. i really need you right now."

"i'm there, baby."

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bloggerspam · 3 months ago

Text

Lost in Grave Dirt

You've forgotten your name.

You've forgotten a lot of things, actually.

But you keep getting stuck on the fact that you do not know your name.

Maybe John? No, that doesn't seem right. Jane? You've forgotten if you're a woman or man, which feels like it should be important, but doesn't seem to be right in this moment.

Tom? Richard? Harry?

None of these feel right.

"Hello?" You blink. Right, forget the name—someone else is here and has been calling you for a while. "Can you hear me?"

"Yes, I can hear you." You call back, looking down at yourself. You're sitting in a ditch, legs half-buried in the ground. You're disheveled and covered in dirt, but you seem to be okay overall besides that. "Sorry, I was a little distracted. What were you asking me?"

"I asked if you were alright." The person standing at the top of the ditch you're in replies, cautiously, as if they are not sure if you are crazy or not. Which is fair play, really, considering where you have woken up.

"Right." You say, wondering if you should pick yourself up and dust yourself off. "I'm not sure. Would you happen to know who I am?"

The color drains from the person's face, eyes straying to the side, voice trembling a bit as they seem to read off of something. "Uh, does the name Daniel J. Fenton ring any bells?"

"Hm." You think on that for a moment, surveying the ditch and shaking your legs a little to free them. You don't feel like a Daniel, but then again, you don't not feel like a Daniel either. You tell them so, before looking back up in confusion. "Maybe I went by a nickname?"

"Like, Danny?" The person tilts their head, biting their lip. "Probably?"

You consider this, feeling out the possibly-not-new name. "Danny does feel more…right."

"So you don't remember who you are?" The person crouches, leaning more closer. "Or why you're sitting in…uh. There?"

"I have no earthly idea." You admit, to which the person snorts.

"Earthly. good one." They chuckle, reaching a hand down. "Do you, uh, maybe need help getting out?"

"That'd be nice." You take their hand, climbing out of the ditch with surprisingly little effort. You think you've been down there a while, but again, you can't quite remember. Still, you have a lot less aches and pains than you thought you would.

When you are successfully out, you start dusting yourself off, pausing when you see your new companion fidget uncomfortably. You're about to ask what's wrong when you catch sight of the small slab of stone at the head of the ditch you were in.

It's a tombstone, crudely made, with a name and years written on it as they usually do.

Daniel J. Fenton. April 3, 2004 to December 24th, 2023.

"Huh." You say, words slipping out as you carefully make your way over. "That's…interesting."

"I'll say. If I had a nickle for every guy I've seen rise out of his grave," your companion laughs, disbelieving and almost depressively, "I'd have two nickles."

You hum, something not quite sitting right. Your clothes are covered in dirt beyond belief, but beyond the normal wear and tear you're relatively clean. No out of place rips or tears, not even a speck of blood, on your once white teeshirt and blue jeans.

"Which isn't a lot," your companion continues, oblivious to your conundrum. "But it's weird that it's happened twice, right?"

You turn to look at the ditch, inspecting it for a moment, leaning over before your companion grabs you to yank you back.

"Whoa, what—" your companion turns you around, hands clamped around your biceps as if to keep you there, "we just got you out, why are you trying to get back in?"

"I'm not trying to get back in," you try and wriggle your way out, but your companion is not budging. You crane your neck as best you can, before giving up and staring into your captor's blazing eyes. "I just thought it was strange is all."

"Strange?" They finally let you go, moving over to look over the ditch themselves, as if to block your path. "What is?"

"Well," You make a face down at your beat up sneakers. "The grave looks very…machine dug. It's not really what you'd expect from someone crawling out of their own grave, right?"

Your companion freezes, turning slowly too look you up and down in a new light. Their entire countenance changes, as if a switch has been flipped.

"Come to think of it, you don't have a suit," They stalk back to you, taking your hands carefully into theirs. "And your fingernails are too clean to have dug yourself out."

"In the first place," You venture, as they let your hands drop,"Where's my coffin?"

That seems to puzzle them as well, both of you leaning over to peek at the empty grave. It truly looks too clean to have been done by human hands, the walls of it oddly straight. It's about 6 feet deep, with only the side you used to climb out looking slightly lopsided.

"…Huh." Your companion says. And really, what else were you expecting? "Should have noticed that first."

"Can't really blame you." You shrug, looking around and realizing you're also not sure where the missing dirt is, "I'd be more concerned about the amnesiac too."

"I think," Your companion finally decides, having also looked around and found nothing, "that maybe I should take you to my friends so we can sort this out."

"Sure." You agree, amiably. You have this vague notion like you should be more cautious, second locations and all that, but you also have this weird certainty that there's nothing that you can't really handle.

Do all amnesiacs have this kind of cockiness? Or is it just you? You eye your companion up and down as they take out their phone to contact their people, suddenly realizing that maybe you should have taken note of this before.

He's of African descent, skin a smooth and oddly comforting umber color. His eyes are cocoa brown, bright and rounded almond, reminding you of a chocolate Labrador. His hair is in beaded braids, some golden rings decorated here or there.

He's a handsome man, buffer than you are, though only slightly shorter than you. You think, in normal circumstances, that perhaps you would be in trouble. Your own arms are toned but slim, and though you seem to have some abs, you are more of a lean variety.

Still, you somehow know you could take him.

Strange.

"Alright," he says into the phone, "I'll see you at Leslie's."

When he hangs up and gestures for you to follow him with a smile, you realize that maybe you have forgotten something else important.

"So," You say as you trail behind him, "my name might be a mystery, but will yours stay one too?"

The man jolts, twisting around suddenly to a stop. "Right! Sorry," he holds out a hand, sheepishly smiling, "I'm Duke. Duke Thomas."

"Nice to meet you Duke." You smile as you shake his hand, feeling oddly warm. "I guess for now, you can call me Danny until proven otherwise."

"Nice to meet you too, Danny." Duke laughs, tugging you along, both of you walking side by side towards a motorcycle parked just outside the graveyard. "Let's get you sorted, yeah?"

You hop onto the bike behind Duke, feeling a little guilty about dirtying up the spare helmet you were given. The drive from there is smooth, refreshing on your skin—the sights slide by in technicolor and you lean back to flow with it, hands tight around Duke's waist.

You've forgotten your name, though you seem to have a lead on it.

You've forgotten a lot of things, truly.

But somehow, you remember this: this feeling of flying through a city, wind whipping around you, a kind of lightness to your body that feels like gravity is only an occasional visitor.

You find solace in that, this strangely familiar feeling and the warmth that seeps from Duke in front of you.

Somehow, you know:

All is as it should be.

#im not saying i got inspired by graves again #but im not NOT saying that either #this is meant to be a mystery genre dukexdanny #continuations adoptable #because i have no intentions of explaining myself or continuing this #i apparently love making danny an amnesiac #ghost light #dead light #whichever is the shipname for #dukexdanny #danny phantom #duke thomas #dpxdc #dcxdp #dp x dc #dc x dp #danny fenton #dcu #my writing

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quarterlifekitty · 2 months ago

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Which obsessed! 141 character is most likely to harm their kidnapped partner? Is the harm minor like a smack or broken bones? I'd like to see a most to less likely scale👉👈

cw: kidnapping, dark fic, physical violence, emotional manipulation, serious wound/blood, minor amputation, description of parental abuse (does not occur in writing, just a personal anecdote). Also sorry I did the scale in reverse!

So I'm gonna say Soap is at the bottom tentatively. It depends on how well you can handle pain. I think he's almost overly empathetic-- he's the type who will cry if he sees someone crying, and wince when he sees someone in pain. So if you're easy to reduce to tears, he won't do very much, if anything. However I can also easily imagine a scenario... Stay with me here.

(So there's a style of corporal punishment, which I'm not going to say is good, but I can see Soap subscribing to it. My grandfather used to put his hand on the top of my fathers head and hit that. This is so that whenever he was giving him corporal punishment, my grandfather hurt himself as well, maybe more so, and wasn't able to forget how much force was being used. Again, not gonna say it was a good thing to do, but there's an amount of logic behind it.)

Anyways, I can see Soap doing that. Any injury he inflicts on you, he'll do to himself. It's almost like he's making his own soulmate style bond. It's another effort on his part to build up a connection between you-- a sort of camaraderie.

I think John cares too much about image to be able to hurt you very much. He won't do anything that will leave marks-- I also think he's the one most likely to take you on outings, so he can't exactly have you looking like an abused spouse. Anything he does is open palmed, nothing that leaves cuts or bruises.

Gaz prefers not to resort to violence, but he's not shy, either. He's more likely to put you in scenarios where its up to you not to get hurt, so less of the burden is on him. Things like holding a knife to your skin so you have to stay completely still. Also in situations where he'll grab, and tell you to say what he wants you to say or he'll just keep twisting.

Ghost is fully willing to hobble you. Not in a permanent way, but if you like running, like fiddling with things you shouldn't be fiddling with-- he will break bones and cut tendons. It is not in a way that causes more pain than needed. He isn't cruel, he doesn't want you to hate him and associate him with pain. So he'll dutifully care for the wound, make sure everything is setting correctly and that you have everything you could ever want while you recover. But it's possible he's only making sure it heals well so that he'll be able to do it again later if needed.

Nikolai's physical punishments will come without warning, without gradation. He'll basically let you rack up sins, offenses, bad behavior-- all while you don't know he's keeping a tab and fully intending for you to pay up when he's ready. And he will do permanent damage. Nikolai will have never once laid a hand on you in violence, and suddenly one day one of your tirades of screaming and calling him a monster ends with your pinky wedged in his bolt cutters, right at the middle knuckle, all while the look on his face doesn't change. And he makes you beg for him to help. Tell him you need him, that you always needed him, that you were being stupid and you didn't mean what you said. If you tell him what he wants to hear? Suddenly he's like a big cuddly bear again, doting on you and cooing poor thing while he neatly bandages and cleans everything, feeds you your favorite meal, doses you with plenty of painkillers and cocktails.

If you refuse to beg? Well, he won't let you die of gangrene or anything. He'll pour the nearest bottle of liquor over a kitchen knife and hold it on the stove for a minute before cauterizing the wound.

When all's said and done, months and months from now, he'll probably get you a decorative silver cap for what remains, finely engraved, with you new last name, perhaps?

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hoshifighting · 1 year ago

Text

Crush on Music Student Jihoon

"So, I couldn't help but overhear something at lunch today," he says, his voice tinged with amusement. Your heart skips a beat as you try to recall what you might have said that caught his attention. "Oh? What did you hear?"

Jihoon chuckles softly, a blush creeping onto his cheeks. "Well, it sounded like someone might have been talking about me..."

— Synopsis: Where you have a little crush on the music student Jihoon. He definitively is not like the jocks from the campus, his quiet demeanor between his loud friends, calls your attention, and your friends tell you to let go of this crush once and for all. But Jihoon shows up to show you that your admiration for him was worth it. — WC: 5.8k — WARNINGS: Smut, dirty talk, praising, overwhelming, fingering, blowjob, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, public kiss, their friends having a heart-attack when they kiss, tears and sobs of pleasure, g'spot stimulation and etc.

So, here you are, finally in college. No more high school drama, no more teachers breathing down your neck, and no more petty cliques. It's like a whole new world, and you're loving every minute of it.

College is different. People here have their own inspirations, their own goals, and their own quirks. It's refreshing to be surrounded by so much diversity. You feel more mature than ever, like you're finally coming into your own.

But then there's Jihoon. Your friends won't let you forget about him. He's a music student, from the same campus, and apparently, he's got you feeling all sorts of things. They tease you mercilessly, saying you're acting like a girl in high school with a crush.

"Ah, Jihoon. He's always been the quiet type…" They say. You've noticed it too. While his friends are loud and outgoing, he's content to stay in the background, quietly observing the world around him. It's one of the things that drew you to him in the first place.

But your friends don't seem to understand. They keep trying to push you towards guys like Dokyeom or Seungkwan, who are the complete opposite of Jihoon. Dokyeom, with his extroverted personality and vibrant energy, always seems to be the life of the party. And Seungkwan, well, he's practically a celebrity on campus with his charm and athleticism.

But as much as you appreciate their efforts, your heart just isn't in it. While your friends are off drooling over Mingyu at the football games, you prefer to sit quietly in the back of the university theater, listening to the sweet sounds that emanate from Jihoon's fingers as he plays guitar or piano.

You're sitting with your friends at lunch, trying to enjoy your meal while Jihoon's group of friends acts loud and rowdy as usual. Jihoon himself is sitting nearby, quietly changing papers, which you assume are lyrics for his music.

"So, when are you going to talk to him?" Hyeson asks, a mischievous glint in her eye.

You roll your eyes, knowing exactly where this conversation is headed. "I don't know, maybe when I feel like it," you reply nonchalantly, taking a bite of your sandwich.

Your other friend, Seungjun, chimes in, "Come on, you've been crushing on him forever. He's probably too shy to come and ask you out. Or maybe he's too busy burying his face in those ridiculous scores."

ou shrug, trying to play it cool. "I don't know what you're talking about. I just enjoy his music, that's all."

But your friends aren't buying it. They exchange knowing looks before turning back to you with raised eyebrows.

"Come on, you can't deny that there's something there," Hyeson says, leaning in closer. "Why don't you just go talk to him? What's the worst that could happen?"

You hesitate, chewing on your lip as you consider the idea. "I don't know... What if he thinks I'm weird or something?"

Your friend rolls her eyes, shaking her head in disbelief. "You've practically had the whole college eating out of the palm of your hand since you started to study here."

You feel a flush of embarrassment creep up your neck as she lays it all out there. "I don't know if I'd say that..."

But she cuts you off before you can finish. "Come on, Y/n. Let's be real here. You've practically dismissed every other guy in this place because you only have eyes for Jihoon. And you're worried about him thinking you're weird?"

The conversation about Jihoon continues to flow at the table, with your friend passionately expressing her opinions. But then, out of the corner of your eye, you spot Mingyu approaching. Your friend doesn't seem to notice, her mouth still going a mile a minute about Jihoon.

Quickly, you reach out and wrap a hand around her mouth, effectively cutting off her words. She widens her eyes in surprise, shooting you a confused look as Mingyu stands next to your table, likely coming over to talk to you all.

Mingyu starts talking about the upcoming football game this night, mentioning that there's going to be a frat party afterward. Your friend's ears perk up at the mention of Jihoon, and she can't help but blurt out, "Is Jihoon going to be there?"

Mingyu furrows his brow in confusion, glancing over at Jihoon who is still engrossed in his papers at the other table. "I don't know," he replies honestly. "It's been a long time since he appeared at one of our parties."

But then Mingyu's gaze returns to your friend, a puzzled expression crossing his face. "Wait, why do you ask? Does someone here have a crush on Jihoon?" he asks, his voice a little too loud for comfort.

You widen your eyes in alarm, shooting a panicked glance at Jihoon and his friends who are now looking over at your table, clearly intrigued by the mention of Jihoon's name.

Your friend's eyes widen in shock, realizing that his question may have been a little too loud. "Um, well..." she stammers, searching for an excuse.

But before she can come up with anything, Mingyu's gaze returns to Jihoon's table, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "Looks like someone has some explaining to do," he says, loud enough for Jihoon to hear.

"Oh my god, I fucking hate y'all…"

[...]

As you make your way to the promised frat party tonight, your friend nudges you gently and says, "Come on, Y/n-nie, don't be mad at us. We're just having some fun."

You shoot her a playful glare before sighing and shaking your head. "I know, I know. I'm not really mad. Just a little nervous, that's all."

But your other friend chimes in, unable to resist poking fun at the situation. "Seriously, though, I still don't understand why you like him that much. He doesn't even look like he fucks."

You roll your eyes at her crude remark, feeling a flush of heat rise to your cheeks. Brushing away the thought of your recent fantasies about Jihoon, you try to play it off coolly. "Oh, please. You don't know anything about him."

But deep down, you can't deny the truth in her words. Jihoon may seem shy and reserved on the surface, but there's a fire burning beneath that quiet exterior. And just the thought of him touching you, of him fucking you, sends a shiver down your spine.

How is Jihoon's cock? Could he really fuck you like you've been fantasizing about? The image of him moaning beautifully as he sings, his fingers dancing effortlessly across the strings of his guitar, sends a wave of desire crashing over you.

You squeeze your legs tight together, trying to ignore the pulsing ache between them as you continue towards the party. Each step brings you closer to the possibility of seeing Jihoon again, of finally making your move.

But as you approach the frat house, the thumping bass of the music growing louder with each passing second, you push those thoughts to the back of your mind. Your friend's little black dress that she lent you, hugs your curves in all the right places, a departure from your usual style, but you can't deny that it looks amazing on you.

She had insisted that Jihoon would love it, teasing you about your "Jihonnie" and the potential for a romantic encounter tonight. You couldn't help but laugh at her antics, secretly hoping that she might be right.

But as you glance around the crowded place, your heart sinks a little. Jihoon is nowhere to be seen. You try to push down the disappointment, reminding yourself that there are plenty of other people to talk to and enjoy the party with.

You lean against the bar, swirling your punch in your hand as you chat with your friend. Her eyes suddenly light up, and she says something that makes you furrow your brow in confusion. Glancing over your shoulder, you spot Mingyu walking towards you, with Jihoon by his side.

Jihoon walks with his hands in his pockets, his black shirt hugging his muscular arms perfectly, while his hair falls in his face in a way that makes your heart skip a beat. Your friend takes the hint and excuses herself, leaving you alone with the boys.

Mingyu gives you a sly grin and nudges Jihoon in your direction. "Go on, hyung," he says encouragingly. "You've been wanting to talk to her all day."

Jihoon's cheeks turn a faint shade of red as he leans against the bar with a sheepish smile. "Uh, hey," he says softly, his voice barely audible over the music. "Mind if I join you?"

You feel a rush of excitement as Jihoon starts a conversation, his shy demeanor only adding to his charm. "Of course," you reply with a smile, motioning for him to take a seat next to you.

As the conversation continues to flow between you and Jihoon, you find yourselves laughing and exchanging stories about your time at college. You're pleasantly surprised by how easy it is to talk to him, and before you know it, hours have flown by.

Suddenly, Jihoon pauses mid-sentence, a playful glint in his eyes. "So, I couldn't help but overhear something at lunch today," he says, his voice tinged with amusement.

Your heart skips a beat as you try to recall what you might have said that caught his attention. "Oh? What did you hear?" you ask, feigning innocence as you take a sip of your punch.

Jihoon chuckles softly, a blush creeping onto his cheeks. "Well, it sounded like someone might have been talking about me," he admits, his eyes meeting yours with a shy smile.

You can't help but scoff at his comment, feeling a surge of embarrassment wash over you. "You mean Mingyu mentioning your name out loud?" you reply, trying to play it off coolly.

Jihoon laughs and nods, his smile widening. "Yeah" he says with a nod. "I guess I've been on your friends' minds lately."

You chuckle, feeling a rush of embarrassment wash over you at the thought of Jihoon overhearing your friends teasing you about your crush on him. "Yeah, sorry about that," you say sheepishly, scratching the back of your neck. "My friends can be a little... outspoken."

But Jihoon just shakes his head, a smile playing on his lips. "No need to apologize. It's actually kind of flattering," he says, his gaze meeting yours with warmth. "And to be honest, I've been wanting to talk to you for a while now."

Your heart skips a beat at Jihoon's confession, and you feel a rush of excitement as you muster up the courage to admit your own feelings. "Yeah, I've been wanting it too," you confess, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jihoon's face lights up with a genuine smile, and he leans in closer, his eyes shining with curiosity. "Oh yeah? What have you been wanting to talk to me about?" he asks eagerly.

You feel a pang of panic shoot through you as you realize you hadn't prepared an answer to that question. You stutter for a moment, trying to come up with something to say.

Finally, you blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. "Um, your music project! It sounds awesome," you say, mentally kicking yourself for not being more prepared.

You can tell by the look on his face that he knows there's more to it than just his music project. And as the silence stretches between you, you can't help but feel a sense of unease settle over you.

"I was expecting something else," Jihoon says with a small, teasing smirk, his voice laced with mock disappointment.

A strange tension hangs in the air between you, and you can feel your cheeks flush with embarrassment. You wish you had been more honest with him, you can't help but wonder if this awkward moment has ruined your chance with him. With a heavy sigh, you take a sip of your drink.

You feel the unease settling in, a knot forming in the pit of your stomach as you realize the gravity of the situation. Are you really going to lose this chance? Are you really going to ruin this opportunity?

Hell no.

Your hand clenches around the red cup with more force as you weigh your options. Taking a deep breath, you muster up the courage to speak, determined not to let this moment slip away.

"That's not what I meant," you say, meeting Jihoon's curious gaze with determination.

Jihoon raises an eyebrow in confusion, waiting for you to continue.

"No, I mean, your songs are really awesome," you clarify. "But I have one more thing to say."

You lean in closer, your lips hovering just inches from his ear as you whisper softly, "I've been wanting to do this for a long time."

Before Jihoon can react, you close the gap between you, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss. The world fades away as you lose yourself in the heat of the moment, your bodies pressed together in an electrifying embrace.

Jihoon responds eagerly, his hands finding their way to your waist as he pulls you closer, deepening the kiss with a hunger that matches your own. In that moment, there's no awkwardness, no tension, only the undeniable chemistry between you and Jihoon igniting into something fiery and intoxicating.

You break the kiss, your lips still tingling with the remnants of his touch, feeling flushed, satisfied, and breathless. A sweet taste lingers on your palate as you lean against Jihoon's chest, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist.

Jihoon's breath is ragged as he pulls back slightly, his eyes locked on yours with a mixture of desire and adoration. "Let's get out of here," he says softly, his voice husky with emotion. "Before our friends have a heart attack."

You glance over at Mingyu and your friends, who are practically collapsing with shock after witnessing your kiss. Your cheeks flush with embarrassment, but Jihoon's hand intertwining with yours brings you back to the present moment.

You nod in agreement, grateful for his quick thinking, and allow him to lead you away from the crowded room. As you step outside into the cool night air, a sense of freedom washes over you, and you find yourself smiling up at Jihoon.

"Sorry about that," you say, a hint of amusement in your voice as you squeeze his hand. "I didn't mean to cause a scene."

Jihoon just chuckles softly, his thumb stroking the back of your hand as he leans in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. "No need to apologize," he murmurs, his voice warm and reassuring. "I'm just glad I finally got to kiss you."

"You should have kissed me before," you tease, nudging Jihoon playfully as you walk together across the campus, heading towards the dorms.

Jihoon chuckles, his arm wrapping around your waist as he pulls you closer to him. "Oh, really? And risk giving our friends a heart attack sooner?" he replies with a smirk, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

You roll your eyes at his response, but a smile tugs at the corners of your lips. "Fair point," you concede, leaning into his side as you continue to walk. "But you could have at least hinted that you wanted to kiss me earlier."

Jihoon's smile softens, his gaze turning tender as he looks down at you. "Oh, really? And here I was thinking you were the one making all the moves," he says softly, his thumb tracing circles on your hip.

You roll your eyes in mock exasperation, swatting at his arm playfully. "Hey, I can't do all the work," you retort, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "It's about time you stepped up your game."

Jihoon chuckles, leaning in closer to press a soft kiss to your cheek. "Well, consider this me stepping up," he says, his voice low and husky as he pulls back to meet your gaze. "And trust me, I have plenty more where that came from."

As you and Jihoon approach his dorm, the air is charged with anticipation, and you can't help but feel a flutter of excitement in the pit of your stomach. The conversation flows effortlessly between you, filled with laughter and teasing banter as you navigate the familiar paths of the campus.

"So, you're telling me that you're going to make up for lost time?" you ask with a playful smirk, nudging Jihoon's side as you walk.

Jihoon chuckles, his eyes glinting mischievously as he glances over at you. "Oh, you have no idea," he replies, his voice low and husky, sending a shiver down your spine.

As you reach his dorm door, Jihoon suddenly stops in his tracks, turning to face you with a wicked grin. Before you can react, he slams you against the door with a sudden force, his hands grabbing your ass firmly as he leans in to kiss your neck.

A gasp escapes your lips as his lips trail along your skin, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. You can feel his warmth radiating against you, his strong arms holding you tightly as you cling to him, your hands gripping his biceps desperately.

With a sense of urgency, Jihoon grabs the door handle and swings it open, pulling you into his room with him. The moment you step inside, the door closes behind you with a soft click, and you find yourselves enveloped in darkness, save for the faint glow of the moonlight streaming through the window.

Unable to detach your bodies from each other, you stumble forward, your lips locked in a passionate kiss. Jihoon's hands roam freely over your body, igniting sparks of desire with each touch, while your own hands explore the contours of his chest, tracing the lines of his muscles beneath his shirt.

Jihoon's eyes search yours, filled with desire. "Tell me," he says softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You furrow your brow in confusion for a moment before he repeats himself, his tone more insistent this time. "I want you to tell me, with words."

You feel a thrill run through you at his words, and you hold onto him tighter, your lips still brushing against each other as you melt into his embrace.

For a moment, you're lost in the sensation of being so close to him, your heart pounding in your chest as you try to find the right words to express how you feel.

And then, before you can respond, Jihoon speaks again, his voice teasing and playful. "Come on, Y/n-nie," he says with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I want to hear you say it. Tell me how much you want me."

You can't help but chuckle at his bold request, feeling a rush of heat spread through you at the thought of indulging his playful banter. "Why?" you ask, raising an eyebrow in mock innocence. "Are you planning to use this in your songs?" you ask breathlessly, your voice barely above a whisper as his hands slip under the fabric of your little black dress, hands find their way to your breasts.

Jihoon laughs at your response, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he shakes his head. "Who knows?" he replies with a smirk. "But I think I'd much rather hear it from your lips than write it in a song."

You roll your eyes playfully, a smirk playing on your lips. "Fine," you say, leaning in closer to whisper in his ear. "But you're going to owe me for this."

With a sly grin, you reach down and find the waistband of his pants and underwear, pulling them down in one swift motion. Jihoon gasps in surprise as his pink, big cock springs free, standing shiny and eager in the dim light.

You can't help but let out a low moan at the sight, desire coursing through you as you gaze hungrily at him. "God, I wanted this cock so bad," you whisper, your voice dripping with desire. "I've been dreaming about it for so long."

As Jihoon holds back the urge to roll his eyes at your words, you lean in closer, your breath hot against his skin as you lick a stripe from the base of his cock to the tip. He lets out a low groan, his hands gripping the hem of his shirt as he tries to steady himself against the overwhelming pleasure coursing through him. "Hmm Y/N yes!"

With a hungry desire, you take his cock into your mouth, filling your cheeks with his hardness as you work him with eager enthusiasm. Jihoon's hands tremble slightly as he holds onto his shirt, his moans growing louder and more desperate with each movement of your mouth.

Feeling your own arousal building with each passing second, you can't help but reach down between your legs, pushing your panties to the side as you slide your fingers into your dripping wet pussy. You can't help but moan around Jihoon's cock as you pleasure yourself.

Jihoon's moans grow even louder at the sound, his hips bucking involuntarily as he struggles to hold back his release. "Fuck, I'm cumming, I'm cumming," he says, head thrown back. With each thrust of your mouth and each stroke of your fingers in your pussy, the tension in the room grows thicker, until finally, with a loud cry, Jihoon reaches his climax, his hot cum spilling into your mouth.

As you swallow eagerly, relishing the taste of Jihoon's release, you feel a surge of ecstasy coursing through you. But before you can fully enjoy the moment, Jihoon's voice cuts through the haze of pleasure, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

"Stop," he says, his voice hoarse with desire.

You reluctantly remove your hand from between your legs, your fingers still slick with arousal as you look up at Jihoon with glazed eyes. He takes your hand in his, pulling you to your feet and guiding you towards his bed.

Your dress is now bunched up around your waist, the fabric clinging to your skin as Jihoon manages to remove his shirt with trembling hands. You can feel the heat radiating off his body as he presses you gently onto the bed, his hands roaming over your exposed skin.

With a sense of urgency, Jihoon leans down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue dancing with yours as he explores every inch of your mouth. You moan softly into the kiss, the sensation of his lips making you feel rewarded.

As Jihoon's hand finds the fabric of your panties and tugs them down your legs, throwing the piece away, you shiver with anticipation, your arousal pooling between your thighs. His fingers find your sopping wet cunt, and you moan at the slight touch, your body trembling with desire.

With a wicked grin, Jihoon leans in close, his voice low and husky as he begins to dirty talk to you. "You know, Y/n-nie," he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. "I saw you all those times you sat in the auditorium, watching me play."

You gasp at his words, the memory of those moments flooding your mind as you feel a surge of heat spreading through you. "I loved knowing you were there, looking at me, wanting me." Jihoon continues, his voice dripping with desire. "I couldn't help but wonder what was passing through your little filthy mind as you watched me."

"Did you imagine me touching you, pleasing you, making you scream my name?"

His words send a surge of desire rushing through you, and you can feel yourself getting wetter by the second. With a desperate need, you arch your hips towards him, silently begging for more as you lose yourself in the intoxicating heatness of Jihoon's dirty talk.

s Jihoon's fingers sink inside your pussy, you let out a gasp of pleasure, the sensation overwhelming your senses. Your mouth opens to answer him, but all that escapes is a string of expletives as pleasure washes over you.

"Fuck!" you swear, your voice strained with desire as Jihoon's fingers move inside you. The sound of your arousal fills the room, loud and squelching as his fingers slide in and out, your wetness coating his hand with each delicious thrust.

His movements are slow and deliberate, each stroke driving you closer and closer to the edge. You squirm beneath him, your body writhing with pleasure as ragged gasps leave your lips. With each movement of his fingers, you feel yourself spiraling out of control, lost in the intoxicating heat of the moment.

And as Jihoon continues to drive you wild with his fingers, his voice fills the air with a mixture of desire and frustration. "Fuck," he breathes, his words heavy with longing. "Everyone told me to take action, but..."

But what? You find yourself holding your breath, waiting for Jihoon to finish his sentence. But he doesn't say anything else, leaving the words hanging in the air between you, tantalizingly unfinished.

You can feel the tension mounting, the anticipation building as you wait for Jihoon to speak again. But instead of words, he leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "But now that I have you like this, begging for more," Jihoon continues, his voice dripping with lust, "I never want to let you go."

The admission sends a thrill of excitement coursing through you, knowing that Jihoon has been thinking about this moment just as much as you have.

As Jihoon pumps his fingers inside you, you grip his forearm tightly, feeling the muscles flex beneath your touch. Your head spins with pleasure, and your stomach flutters with anticipation as he drives you closer and closer to the edge.

Every sensation is overwhelming, from the scent of his cologne to the intensity of his gaze, to the sound of his voice saying all those filthy things that send shivers down your spine. You're lost in a whirlwind of ecstasy, unable to think about anything except the pleasure coursing through your veins.

And then, just when you think you can't take any more, you feel yourself tensing, your pussy throbbing and clenching around Jihoon's fingers. He senses your impending release and curls his fingers inside you, sending you over the edge.

"And I promise," Jihoon murmurs, his lips brushing against your skin, "I'm going to make you feel so good, Y/n-nie. You won't be able to think about anything else but me."

You arch your back, a pornographic moan escaping your lips as you cum around his fingers, your juices coating his hand and forearm in a sticky mess. The intensity of your orgasm is overwhelming, leaving you breathless and trembling in Jihoon's arms.

"You're amazing," Jihoon continues, his voice low and sensual. "The way you moan, the way you tremble beneath my touch... It's driving me wild."

You can't help but blush at his words, feeling a surge of arousal coursing through you at the thought of Jihoon being so captivated by you. His praise is like a drug, intoxicating and addictive, and you find yourself craving more with each passing moment.

"Can I fuck this pretty pussy, hm?" Jihoon asks, his voice low and filled with desire, as he flips your clit with his thumb.

You gasp at the sensation, your breath catching in your throat as pleasure shoots through you. "Yes, please," you whisper, your voice thick with need.

Jihoon chuckles softly, a teasing glint in his eyes as he leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "Are you sure you can handle it?" he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin.

You whimper at his words, feeling a surge of desire coursing through you. "Yes," you moan, your voice barely a whisper. "I want you to fuck me until I can't take it anymore."

As Jihoon's tip presses against your slit, you quiver with anticipation, feeling the wet folds parting to welcome him inside. His lips meet yours in a searing kiss, his tongue teasing yours as he guides his cock deeper inside you.

You moan into his mouth as he enters you fully, his length stretching you deliciously as he fills you completely. A gasp escapes Jihoon's lips as he sinks into you, the sensation overwhelming both of you with pleasure.

With his cock buried deep inside you, Jihoon opens his mouth in a gasp of ecstasy, his breath hot against your skin. You whimper at the sensation, feeling a surge of desire coursing through you as he bites your chin lightly, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you.

As Jihoon moves inside of you, his hips rolling with a rhythm that drives you wild, you can't help but cling to him desperately, your hands finding purchase on his back as he fills you up so perfectly. The previous orgasm has left you sensitive and achingly aroused, making it easy for him to slide in and out of you with ease.

You look into his eyes, lost in the depths of his gaze, feeling a connection that transcends words. His necklace brushes against your face with each thrust, a reminder of his presence, grounding you in the reality of the moment.

Tears stream down your face, mingling with the pleasure and overwhelming sensation of having him finally inside you. It's not a dream – Jihoon is here, fucking you with a passion that leaves you breathless and shaking.

Your mouth hangs open in a silent cry of ecstasy as you surrender yourself completely to the pleasure, every movement of his hips sending waves of pleasure crashing over you. You hold onto him desperately, your nails digging into his skin as you ride the wave of sensation, knowing that this moment will stay with you forever.

As Jihoon's cock hits your G-spot, you arch your back in ecstasy, the pleasure overwhelming you as you cling to him desperately. He watches your reaction with a smirk, clearly enjoying the effect he's having on you.

But then, a sob escapes your lips, the intensity of the sensation bringing tears to your eyes. Jihoon hears your sob and responds by thrusting in the same way, driving you even closer to the edge of pleasure.

You sob even louder at the sensation, the pleasure so intense that it's almost unbearable. But Jihoon is there for you, cooing softly as he continues to move inside you, his touch bringing you both pleasure and comfort.

You call out his name, your words babbling as you try to express just how good it feels. "Jihoon, it's too good," you whimper, your voice thick with desire. "Too good..."

"Shh, it's okay," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your skin as he holds you close. "I've got you, Y/n-nie. Just let go and feel it."

As Jihoon turns you around and pushes your head onto the pillow, you let out a scream of pleasure, the intensity of his thrusts overwhelming your senses. With each movement of his hips, you feel yourself weakening, surrendering completely to the pleasure coursing through you.

Jihoon's thrusts are intense, his cock driving deep inside you with a ferocity that leaves you breathless. His hands tremble as he grabs onto you wherever he can, his moans mingling with yours.

And then, just when you think you can't take any more, you feel it – the tightening in your stomach, the trembling of your muscles as your pussy walls hug Jihoon's cock tight. He spasms with pleasure everytime you clench around him.

As you feel the wave of pleasure building inside you, you grip the sheets and pillows tight, your body convulsing with the intensity of the sensation. Jihoon continues to thrust into you with the same relentless rhythm, driving you to the brink of ecstasy with each movement of his hips.

And then, it happens – you cum on his cock, your entire body trembling with the force of your release. A long, exasperated cry escapes your lips as you convulse around him, your pussy gushing with wetness as you ride the waves of pleasure.

Jihoon watches you in awe, his own desire reaching a fever pitch as he sees you spasming and creaming around his cock. He holds himself back with every ounce of willpower he has, determined to wait until you're fully satisfied before allowing himself to succumb to his own release.

But as he feels you tightening around him, the sensation driving him to the edge of control, he knows that he won't be able to hold out much longer. With a guttural groan, he lets go, his own climax crashing over him in a tidal wave.

As Jihoon rides out his climax, his cum mixing with yours as it drips from your pussy, the sound of the messy aftermath echoing around the room. You both collapse onto the bed, spent and breathless, the intensity of your orgasms still coursing through your veins.

The room is filled with the scent of sex and sweat, a tangible reminder of the passion that has consumed you both. But as you lie there together, wrapped in each other's arms, you feel a sense of contentment wash over you.

As Jihoon plays with your hair, breaking the comfortable silence that has settled between you, he asks softly, "Are you going to continue watching me play in the auditorium?"

You smile up at him, your heart fluttering at the thought of seeing him perform again. "Of course," you reply without hesitation. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

Jihoon's eyes light up with a hint of mischief as he leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin. "Good," he says, his voice filled with determination. "But this time, I want you to be in the front row, not on the last chairs."

You can't help but blush at his words, feeling a surge of excitement at the thought of being so close to him while he performs. "I'd love that," you murmur, your heart pounding in anticipation.

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