i currently have two wips and i kinda wanna know if anyone would be interested in them:
1. hanni x reader enemies-to-lovers, slow burn, highschool!au series (probably 20+ chapters) that contains cheating, angst, a lot of drama and just kinda like complex relationships whatsoever.
2. a one-shot/short series that is star wars inspired and it's probably gonna be hanni x reader too.
if you have any curiosities or suggestions feel free to share!!! 💕
haven't made an actual post here in forever. i kinda have a few fanfics ideas brewing but nothing 100% sure... i reallyyyyy like one of my wips and i hope i manage to make it reality and post it!!! 😭😭😭
crazy that gravity falls was like, hey what if we made twin brothers, and one of them is the worse one. he gets bad grades, he likes to punch his problems, everyone thinks of him as “the other one.” he’s engulfed in a shadow that’s shaped like him. he doesn’t even have his own name—it’s derived of his brother’s name, the only one his parents planned on having and using. everything about him is derivative—imitative of another person (his twin brother) (the one everyone likes and wants) and is disapproved of for that reason (he isn’t just “bad at this thing,” he’s “not as good as his brother”). and then he ruins his brother’s science fair project (the one next to his own—no one noticed it because it’s not good, it’s almost stupid next to a “perpetual motion machine” made by a high schooler) (he tried to fix it) (he doesn’t know how; he’s not as smart as the guy who made it) and he gets kicked out. the potential of the money his twin could’ve made is enough to throw him onto the street, and he can’t go home until he makes that money back (the money that was never gained and therefore was never lost. he never had a chance of making enough). he took every job he could (his brother went to school). he got banned from multiple states (his brother bought a house). he traveled internationally and went to prison and had people try to hunt him down and kill him because he couldn’t make enough money (his brother’s house has three basements. he made them himself, as secure as can be). and when his twin finally summons him for help, things go wrong (he messed up this machine like the last one) (he doesn’t know how to fix it. he isn’t as smart as the guy who made it) (he tries to fix it) (he was never any good at reading and these blueprints are impossible, coded and fragmented and in a science that he didn’t know existed) (he tries to fix it). the townspeople ask who he is, and he doesn’t even say his own name (it was hardly his to begin with). and he invites them to a house that isn’t his to show off experiments that aren’t his because he needs to make money that can’t be his. everything he does for the next 30 years is in his twin’s name, for his twin’s sake. he had two funerals for himself and it isn’t even his body in the casket; he had to wear his brother’s name to both of them. if he had died before he fixed the portal, that funeral wouldn’t have been for him. we meet him as a funny and unique character, but in-universe, he’s only ever been defined by someone else.
and then they went, this is entirely in the background btw. most of that is going to be revealed in one episode and won’t be addressed again. he’s a primary comic relief, even. I’m ill about this.
"Life Line", by David Svensson (2017).The work is based upon the pulse of the artist's son before his birth, curiously similar to the radio pulsar graphic by Peter Saville that became the cover of Joy Division's "Unkwnown Pleasures".
· . BETTER THAN ME ⋆ you gon' figure out you lost one and that's me ⸝⸝
# in which— you and karina broke up, but neither of you really moved on... or moved out at that.
౨ৎ [ 𝙱𝙴𝚃𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝚃𝙷𝙰𝙽 𝙼𝙴 ] ‘ — yu jimin x gp!reader. 3.1k words. exes to ? ⊹ 18+ smut, p in v (unprotected), sub!reader, dom!rina, nipple sucking, cowgirl, she really wants to slap u vro, and um cliffhanger kinda lol haha.
─── authors note. where’s all the angst requests. why is everything smut. i am not built for this. i hate my writing 💔 augh. sigh. k. bye.
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you could just hear it now.
"why on earth would you move in with a girl you dated for six months?"
fair question. really solid. probably the kind of thing your friends said behind your back. probably the kind of thing your mom would've said if you hadn't lied and told her you and karina were just roommates from the jump.
but when people were bold enough to ask you the question to your face. you gave them the same analogy every single time.
dating karina was like a rollercoaster. the excitement you got when everything was just starting, the stomach-dropping terror and exhilaration of the first drop, and the wild, out-of-control twists and turns. even the slow crawl and the pause at the top, the momentary reprieve. the end that came just a little too quickly.
then you had the aftermath, the afterglow, the dopamine rush, and the blissful comedown.
and like any good ride, the second it was over, you wanted to do it all over again—even if your head was spinning and your chest still hurt.
so when the lease came up and karina didn't move out… you didn't ask her to. you didn't think it was a problem… because the actual problem was that you still loved her.
you still notice how she folds her laundry with perfect corners and how her keys always jingle twice before she opens the door. how she hums when she washes her face. how she still wears that stupid oversized shirt you left in her room months ago, back when you were allowed to touch her.
you pretend not to notice.
you pretend a lot these days. like how it doesn't bother you when she comes home with her hair tousled and her lipstick smudged. like how your chest doesn't ache when you hear her laugh through the bathroom door, phone pressed to her ear, someone else on the other end.
you act like you're over it. because you should be. because you shouldn't have broken up with her. because it was your fault. because you should have let her go, you should have done a lot of things.
tonight was supposed to be nothing.
a girl with kind eyes and soft lips. someone to distract you. you didn't take her into your room. you didn't even kiss her for long. it didn't feel right. it never does.
you showered the second she left—hot water, hard scrub, hands on your face like you could rinse away the shame. then you threw on your old hoodie and dropped onto the couch because your body was too heavy to carry anymore.
you're not sure how long you sit there, staring at the tv screen, but eventually you hear her door creak open.
she doesn't say anything at first.
just walks into the living room like a ghost you summoned.
she's barefoot, leaning against the wall, arms crossed, legs bare under a shirt you haven't seen since—fuck, since before the breakup. one of your shirts, oversized and faded, hanging off one shoulder. her face is calm in that terrifying way only she can pull off.
she says nothing. just stares.
you don't move. again, you pretend. pretend as if her presence isn't affecting you.
then she walks over and stops right in front of you, blocking the glow from the screen. what a fucking ass.
"i smelled perfume earlier," she says. her mouth moved immediately afterwards. "was she pretty?"
you glance away.
"i didn't sleep with her."
karina hums. "did you want to?"
"no."
a beat. she takes another step closer.
"did you think it'd make me jealous?"
you're silent.
you truly don't have an answer. if you did make her jealous, it wasn't in an active, conscious way. a way to shove it into her face and say, "watch me move on," but you remember how you glanced at the door before it closed. how you stood a little taller walking back to your room, knowing karina was home.
karina scoffs under her breath. as if she's sifting through the bullshit in your silence and pulling the truth straight out of your thoughts.
"cute," she muttered. "real subtle, by the way. real mature."
you shift on the couch. "karina…"
she takes another step, standing between your legs; her knee brushes your thigh. her fingers lift, and then she's grabbing your jaw, just like she used to. fingertips pressing into your skin, forcing your face upward so she can look at you.
"do you miss me?" she asks. it's quiet… but the way her eyes dance around your face, they seem loud.
your throat tightens. you should lie. you always do. you've been doing it for weeks, months—hell, since the day you broke up.
you try to look away again, but her grip tightens just enough to keep you there.
"i asked you a question," she says, a little rougher this time.
your voice barely makes it out. "yeah."
karina doesn't react—not right away. she watches you, lips parted just slightly, her chest rising and falling.
"i miss you," you repeat, your hands slide up, gentle on her hips, and you rest your forehead on her stomach.
she exhales.
it sounds a lot like relief.
her fingers comb into your hair, and her other hand comes up, cupping the back of your head, keeping you close.
"you don't get to do that," she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper. "you don't get to try to fuck someone else and then say you miss me."
you squeeze her waist gently, holding her like you're trying to keep her from slipping out of your grasp again.
her nails scrape lightly against your scalp.
the sound that slips past your lips is almost pitiful.
"i'm sorry." it comes out choked, your voice muffled against her. "i didn't mean to—"
you cut yourself off, unsure of what to say next.
karina hums, her fingers tighten, pulling your head back, forcing you to look at her.
she studies you for a moment, trying to figure out if this is worth it—if you're worth it. and god, the part of her that misses you is louder than the part of her that's angry. but just barely.
"i should slap you," she murmurs…but she's already moving, already climbing into your lap, considering it's second nature, this is her place, well it was at one point. and some twisted part of her still believes it is only hers.
your breath hitches when her thighs settle on either side of yours, her hands sliding to your shoulders, grounding herself. you shift slightly, letting her settle, your palms sliding up her back, memorizing the curve of her spine.
it feels a little like the first time.
back when your hands were nervous and shaky and she was too good to be true. back when she was this bright spot in your life that you didn't know how to handle.
fuck, you handled it so fucking wrong.
karina leans in—closer, closer—and you tilt your head up to meet her, lips parting, desperate for it, aching—
but she pulls back just barely. enough to make you chase it. enough to make you curse under your breath.
karina smirks.
there is nothing gentle about her. not like this.
her lips press to the corner of your mouth, and then her teeth are nipping at your bottom lip, tugging just enough to make you gasp, and her tongue is hot, sliding into your mouth, curling against yours.
karina kisses the way she fights. with her whole body. with her soul.
you hold onto her like a drowning man, like you need her, because you do. because the second she breaks away, you realize that no one can kiss you like her. no one can touch you like her.
her hips roll down, hard, and your moan is muffled by her mouth, the sound swallowed down, greedily consumed. she pulls back again, just to catch her breath, and her hands are in your hair, pushing the hood off, and her lips press to the spot under your ear, her nose brushing along the curve of your jaw.
you inhale sharply, your hands sliding down, groping at her ass, pulling her harder against you, desperate, desperate, desperate.
she groans, the sound low and soft, her hips rocking, her teeth nipping at your throat.
your brain knows this is bad. that this isn't real, that you're going to wake up tomorrow morning, and she's not going to be there. it'll be worse than any hangover you've ever had.
but the rest of your body couldn't care less.
it feels good. it feels right. like you're both exactly where you're supposed to be.
karina lifts her head, her forehead resting against yours, her breath fanning against your lips.
"i hate you," she whispers.
you swallow.
"i know."
her eyes flutter shut, and you kiss her again, trying to say everything you never could. trying to make up for all the things you said with words that aren't even half as pretty.
the angle is a little awkward, but karina doesn't seem to notice. her hands are cupping your jaw, holding you in place, kissing you like you're oxygen and she's dying. she pulls back, panting, and before she can speak, you're lifting her shirt—your shirt—over her head, throwing it somewhere behind the couch.
karina doesn't bother hiding the way she stares at you.
you try not to preen under her attention, but it's hard when she's looking at you like that. like you're everything she wants, everything she's ever wanted.
"i need you," you breathe out, hands on her waist, her hips, squeezing just enough to feel the way her skin dimples under your fingers.
"then have me," she says, leaning in, her mouth hot against your neck.
the sound that slips out is downright filthy—you tilt your head to the side, giving her better access. karina's nails scrape against your scalp before they slide down, dragging hard down your back. your breath stutters, your back arches slightly, and your teeth sink into your lip hard enough to draw blood.
"rina—" your voice cracks. "i—please, i need…"
her laugh is low. it's wicked.
"you're lucky i missed you." her words are hot against your throat, punctuated by the sharp nip of her teeth. "because this doesn't mean shit."
"okay." you try to catch your breath. "yeah—whatever, okay. you—you can slap me, okay, i fucking deserve it, okay, i know—fuck…"
karina lifts her head. "shh," she murmurs. "i'll slap you later. but put that pretty mouth to a better use, yeah?"
you nod. you think you nod. you can't be sure. her hands find yours, trailing them from the bottom of her rib cage up to her chest. she hums softly. "do you want me to show you, baby? want me to walk you through it?"
"no—no, i remember, i can… fuck, i can do it…"
she presses her lips against yours. it's more gentle than the kiss from earlier. a soft reminder to breathe, a reminder that she's still there.
her hand moves to the back of your head, leading you, guiding you, and then your hand pushes up your shirt—yours—her back arching, her head dropping back as your mouth moves, teeth scraping, tongue swirling.
"that's good," karina says, her voice quiet. "fuck… you were always so good…"
her other hand rests on the back of your neck, and it's a comforting weight—but also a reminder that you're doing this because she's allowing you to, not because you're entitled to it.
you take your time—kissing and biting and sucking, red blooming under your tongue. karina's hips move against you, seeking out pressure, her body remembering every place to rock against yours, especially over the tent in your sweats. she gasps softly when you pull away, eyes meeting hers, a question in the way you stare.
she nods, just slightly, and your tongue flicks against her nipple, your hand squeezing the other one gently, just enough pressure to make her shiver. she groans, fingers tangling into your hair, keeping you close, and her breath comes in sharp bursts when your lips close around it, teeth nipping, her chest pressed to yours as her head drops forward.
she doesn't say anything.
her words have always come through actions, anyway.
a sharp tug at your hair—more—another gentle press to the top of your head—enough—and her head falling forward, lips pressing to the top of yours, fingers gentle—perfect—
it's a silent exchange, a secret language only the two of you understand.
"baby." her voice is hoarse, fingers combing into your hair, pushing it back, trying to keep it out of your face.
your eyes lift up.
"need to feel you," she says, almost a demand, but there's an edge of desperation that betrays her.
she knows as well as you do that this is the last night. that the second the sun comes up, she'll be gone again. that tomorrow, things will be just as bad as they were before. that tomorrow, you'll both wake up and pretend none of this ever happened.
tomorrow, you won't remember how soft her thighs are. how good it feels to touch her.
tonight is a luxury that neither of you can afford.
but karina doesn't like waiting.
she slips her fingers under the hem of your sweatpants, and her breath is warm against your face, and her chest is red and splotchy, and her mouth is swollen—and you know you have no choice.
her fingers are hot, curled around your length, her hand stroking up and down—and you almost choke on your next breath.
karina watches you through her lashes. she knows how good she is. how she's ruined every single girl that came after her—that none of them could ever come close to the way she feels. how the only touch that makes you squirm anymore is her own.
but she never gloated about it. she never threw it in your face, either. it was just something the two of you both knew.
but now with her body straddling yours, her hair a dark curtain falling over you both as she smiled against your mouth, a smile that basically said, "remember how good i can make you feel?"
the reminder never hurt.
her thumb swirls against the tip of your cock, smearing the bead of pre-cum leaking from it.
your hands slide down to her ass, fingers squeezing. your hips jerk, your lips parting with a soft whimper.
"fuck."
she smirks.
"i think," she murmurs, pressing her lips against the corner of your mouth, her fingers squeezing just enough to make you twitch in her grip, "we can skip the condom tonight."
your throat tightens, and you nod.
she lifts her hips, obviously too far into it to remove her underwear, so she goes for the easier option, just shifting them to the side. her hips lower, her fingers wrapping around your cock, holding it steady as she slowly lowers herself.
and then—
"holy fuck."
karina hums in response, a quiet sound in the back of her throat that's just enough to tell you to shut the hell up.
you watch her closely, trying to memorize the look on her face, the way her eyes squeeze shut, the way her bottom lip is tucked between her teeth, the way her nose scrunches, and the way her eyebrows furrow. the soft groan that slips out.
"shit," she says, her head dropping forward. "you're…"
she trails off, not bothering to finish the thought.
her eyes open, and she glances up, catching you staring. you look away, and her hand is on your jaw, forcing you to look at her.
"watch me," she murmurs. "be good."
"yeah—yes, okay, i will. i'll be good, promise."
she rolls her hips slowly, adjusting, and then she's leaning forward, pressing her mouth against yours. your hand rests on her hip, and the other slips behind her neck, holding her close, kissing her like it's the last time you'll get to do it.
she starts moving.
she rides you slow, taking her time, and her moans are quiet, her breathing soft, and her hips are grinding down, chasing the pressure. her hands rest on your shoulders, and she moves, her thighs flexing with each movement.
"look at me," she breathes out, her hand cupping your cheek.
you blink, your eyes focusing.
"i want you to watch," she says, her words barely making it out as she moves faster. "wanna you to see when i cum. you're gonna make me cum first, right? because you're good for me, aren't you?"
your throat tightens.
"i can… yes, okay, i can do that, i'll be good, please—fuck, let me touch you…"
"go ahead." her lips brush against yours.
your hand slides between her legs, and she moans, her head falling forward, lips parted, eyes squeezed shut, and the sound that comes out of her throat is something that's barely human.
you press your thumb against her clit, and she curses.
"faster," she orders, her hips rocking. "more, baby, c'mon…"
you obey, and then she's moving faster and harder, and the hand on your shoulder is gripping onto you like you're a life raft, like if she lets go, she'll fall overboard. her body arches against yours, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she reaches the edge. you feel her muscles tense, her nails digging into your skin so hard it'll probably leave marks.
who were you to complain?
"fuck, baby, i'm so close," she whispers.
"good," you murmur, pressing a kiss to her temple, and then her forehead, and then her cheeks.
it doesn't take much more.
a few circles of your thumb, and her eyes roll back, her voice breaking, a cry slipping past her lips, and her body tensing, and her walls clamping around you, and her chest pressed to yours.
"oh, oh, god, holy shit, fuck."
her eyes soon lock onto yours, her gaze not leaving you, watching the way you react to her. how you bite your lip, the soft grunts, the way the tendons in your neck stand out, the way your brows knit together, and the way your arms wrap around her waist and pull her closer, and the way your hips jerk upwards, and the way the moan rumbles in your chest, and the way the warmth spreads through her, and the way her name slips off your tongue.
her arms wrap around your neck, her head resting on your shoulder. her hips roll, riding out the last waves, and you can feel her pulse against your tongue, beating just as fast as yours. your hand rubs her back gently; you don't want her to leave the circle of your arms.
