#// shes emotional pls excuse | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

prodbyton · 9 months ago

Text

into you ☆ l.at

lee anton x fem reader

your mom and her best friend set you up with your old friend from childhood, and you two pretend to date in order to keep them happy. but what happens when feelings start to brew, and the past gets revealed?

college!au, fake dating, ex friends to semi friends to lovers, slowburn, mutual pining, fluff, a bit of angst, smut 18+ MDNI, anton is a self sabotaging idiot.

🎀 cw. smut (ofc), dom!anton, fingering, not really a size kink but anton's size is mentioned a few times, overstimulation, unprotected sex (pls wrap it up,,) creampie, little bit of dry humping, cum eating

⭐️ wc. 15.7k

🎧 into you . tamia • sycamore girl . rex orange county

"i feel like it's so humiliating having my mom set me up on a date." you hold the phone in between your cheek and your shoulder, trying your best to find a good enough outfit.

your best friend, sky, was your emotional support through this whole situation. "it's kind of cute though, like she's looking out for you in a way" she says over the speaker, and you roll your eyes at her comment.

"right, because nothing is cuter than your mom saying 'you're so lonely i'm going to take matters into my own hands'," a hard sigh leaves your lips.

"well when you put it that way, i guess you're right. but this could be nice! what if he's nice, what if he's hot-"

"please, i don't really have a lot of hope in whatever nice guy has picked out"

speaking of the nice guy, you heard the doorbell ring and you sigh again knowing that the next few hours you could be spending rotting in bed, you will now be spending with a mystery man who's probably some secret asshole that's masked as an angel by your mother.

you get off the phone with sky and make your way downstairs towards the door, slipping your shoes and sweater on. you look to your side and see your mom walking down the hall with a bright smile on her face. as you open the door, you see someone you never expected to see.

lee anton.

he has this near fake smile on his face when the door opens, making eye contact with you and then smiling at your mom who was behind you.

"hi y/n, hi mrs.l/n" he starts and you have to fight your eyes from rolling so hard. why was he here? surely he wasn’t… no. no way

"hello anton, you look so handsome, come in, come in!" your mom now is pushing you to the side to drag the boy into the house.

"now y/n, i didn't tell you before because i wanted to make sure you wouldn't freak out, but anton here is your date!"

and that's when a piece of your soul died.

"excuse me?" you try your absolute hardest to not yell, but the confusion and slight anger is building up.

ever since you were little, your mom and antons mom always wished that you two would end up together. you two were friends up until high school, but with new friend groups and new interests the two of you went down different paths. it happens and there weren't really any hard feelings, at least until he started completely ignoring your existence. you didn't hate him, but you were not pleased with his past behavior. and you definitely were not pleased right now.

"don't be rude y/n, this is a great thing! you're a beautiful girl, and anton is a handsome boy. you two have known each other since you were kids and you both go to the same university! it's a perfect match. now you two hurry up and go so you don't miss the reservation i made. have fun" she shoves you two out of the door before you could protest any further and anton is saying goodbye to your mom in his fake sweet voice he's always used with her.

if only she knew that you two haven't spoken since junior year of high school.

you fold your arms across your chest while you walk towards antons car, him rushing to catch up to you so he could open the door.

"how nice of you" you taunted, giving him a fake smile before stepping into the passenger's seat of his car. he gives you that same fake smile before closing the door, not saying a word to you. he walks around the car and gets in, putting on his seatbelt and starting the car.

"you want aux?" he finally speaks, pressing the bluetooth options on his car to connect your phone if you'd like. you happily oblige, not wanting to listen to whatever he wants to put on. even if you two had very similar taste in music, you would always argue that your taste is better. once you press shuffle on your main playlist, he pulls his car out of your driveway and starts the drive to the restaurant your mother picked out for you.

you shift in the seat so you're leaning towards the window, and you open your messages to text your friend sky about the insane situation you were in,

you: oh my fucking god you: its anton you: lee fucking anton!! my mom is sick sky: omg you two haven't talked since highschool! sky: please don't kill him you: no promises sky: maybe you two will fall in love now you: over my dead body sky: if you are gonna be in the same space as him for the next few hours, maybe ask him to put me on with wonbin you: do not use my pain and suffering as a way to get dick sky: i'm trying to find ways for us both to benefit from this! sky: i shouldn't have to suffer because you don't want to talk to anton sky: plus anton is hot! as fuck! i say give it a shot, and if it works out then i can have a shot at his sexy friend you: you are evil sky: update me later babes

aside from the music playing in the car, the ride to the restaurant was silent. anton wanted to talk, but he just couldn't find the right words to say. not like you would want to listen to anything he'd say anyways. but it was just for the car ride, he told himself he'd talk once you two were seated.

pulling into the parking lot, anton parks the car and turns off the ignition. he got out of the car and did a slight speed walk so he could open your door to let you out, and this time the smile was genuine as you got out of the car.

he's not an asshole, you think. i guess i could try and make the most of this date.

he was never an asshole to you, even throughout the years you haven't spoken. of course, avoiding you and acting like you don't exist at events could be taken as being an asshole, but it's not bad compared to the way you've been treated by other men. he's always been a sweet, well-mannered, soft spoken boy.

you two weren't best friends back then, but it still hurt when the two of you drifted apart.

as you two walk into the restaurant, anton talks to the host about the reservation your mother made and you two get seated at a nice booth near the back.

"so, did you know about this? like, did you know that i was the person you were getting set up with?" you start, not looking at him but looking at the menu to get a feel of what you'd want once the waiter comes around to ask for drinks.

"well not at first, but my mom kept hinting at things that traced back to you. wasn't surprised though, they've been trying to set us up since we were in elementary school." he says it almost with no emotion, and you react with a small laugh that makes him smile.

"what kinds of things did she say?" you're intrigued once you really process what he said.

"well" he starts, and you lean into the table with interest. "it wasn't anything out of the ordinary. she was just like 'you should come to visit this weekend, there's a girl i think you would really hit it off with. you actually know her and you two would make a great couple blah blah blah.' things she's already said to me before trying to set me and you up. your mom really didn't give you any hints about today?" it was his turn now to be intrigued, remembering how shocked you were to see him at the door earlier.

"i had no idea. i was scared she was setting me up with some ugly asshole that she would think i would like, when she really has no idea what my type is. she just told me to come for the weekend and was like 'oh he's a sweetheart you're going to love him!' and that was that." you mock your moms swooning voice and anton laughs.

the next hour and a half at the restaurant went well, you two were able to break the awkwardness and catch up from the past years. it felt good honestly. the relief of getting a friend back was always the best feeling.

once you two finished eating, the waiter came around to hand you guys the bill. you figured you two would just split it, this was technically a date but you didn't really think of it that way. and you didn't want anton spending his money on you, you both were forced on this 'date' and it wouldn't be fair in your eyes for him to pay for you. you quickly turn to grab your wallet out of your purse, but once you get your card out the waiter is already walking away with antons card.

"dude, you didn't have to do that!" you whisper yell at him, and he just chuckles.

"don't worry about it. date or not, if you pulled your card out it would look like i was some broke asshole trying to split the bill" he says in his soft voice and you nod, understanding where he was coming from.

the waiter comes back around with antons card, and you guys make your way out of the restaurant and back to his car. he opens the door for you again, you step in and make yourself comfortable this time, adjusting the seat to your liking.

the ride to your house was silent, but it was a comfortable silence. you didn't really know what this meant for the two of you. were you guys friends again? was this really a date and there were more in the foreseeable future? was this just a one time thing?

to be completely honest you didn't want to date anton. not that he wasn't attractive, you would be living a lie if you said he wasn't. he was definitely one of the most attractive guys you've ever seen, but it would just be weird to date him. you guys were friends and it was still a semi-mystery on where you two stand in terms of friendship. and did you really want to date someone your mom set you up with? you're still in college and honestly you don't know what exactly you want yet.

"so um, i'll walk you to the door" suddenly the quiet was awkward again as he got out of the car to let you out and walk you to the front door. and now here you two were, standing awkwardly in front of the door both trying to think of something to say.

why was it so weird now? you were both fine holding a conversation not even an hour ago.

"sorry that our moms pushed us into doing this, but it was nice to uh- it was nice to talk to you again" anton puts his hands in his jean pockets and looks down at you with a sheepish smile, and you look up at him and smile back.

"yeah, it was nice seeing you. you're not gonna go ghost on me again after this are you? cus i know where you live, and i'll tell your mom" you threaten him, and he puts his hands up in defense. if there's one thing you remember about your friendship with anton, it was that his mom did not play about you. if even a scratch got on you when you and anton were together, he would get an earful about being too reckless. even if you were the reckless one

"there's no need for all of that! i won't go ghost on you, it's nice to get a friend back"

"well then, i'll see you on campus?" you look up at him, and he nods.

"see you on campus"

and with that, you put your keys into the door and make your way into the house, giving anton a small wave goodbye before closing the door and taking off your shoes. as you make your way through the house and pass the living room, you see your mother sitting on the couch with a smile so wide her face probably hurts.

"next time you ask me to come home for the weekend to go on a date, i'm blocking your number" you joke, and she rolls her eyes before getting up and walking towards you excitedly.

"how did it go? isn't he just the sweetest boy? are you guys going out on another date? did you kiss?" she wiggles her eyebrows and you nearly gag.

"mom! oh my gosh, no i did not kiss anton! what kind of girl do you think i am? i don't kiss on the first date" she lets out a small pfft at your response.

"so you’re saying there's a second date?" the tone in her voice is teasing and expectant, and you shut her down again.

"that's not what i meant... and i wouldn't even call that a date. we had a nice time though"

"i think you should give him a chance y/n" her hands run up both your arms, giving them a small squeeze when she reaches your shoulders. she gives you a look that almost makes you want to give into her, but you have to stand on your own words.

"i think that, i'm going to go upstairs and go to sleep and forget today happened"

the next day you're making your way back to campus, leaving earlier in the day so you can hang out with sky before she's too tired to listen to your rambling.

"i can't believe you didn't text or call me last night to give me all the juicy details about your date with anton!" sky whines, plopping next to you on the couch with a frown on her face.

"it was not a date, and i wanted to tell you in person that's why i didn't tell you anything! you should be thanking me for being such a thoughtful and considerate friend"

"yeah yeah, now let's hear it. how was it? what was he wearing, did he smell good, did you guys kiss-"

"what is up with people thinking i just go around kissing everyone? i did not fucking kiss anton, and i didn't smell him! you weirdo..." you playfully slap her shoulder, and she giggles. "but it was fine. it was more like catching up with an old friend than a date."

"so are you guys friends again? it's been how many years since you've talked?"

"like 3 years now... it's so weird! it was so awkward at the start too, like i didn't know what to say to him and then it being a date that our moms planned just made it even worse"

"this is good though! now that you two are friends, i can stop trying to avoid his friend." she’s smirking now, and you give her the meanest side eye. she’s been crushing on wonbin for months now, but she didn’t want to date one of antons friends for your sake. You did have some mutual friends, but you wouldn't go past the line of friendship with anyone who was associated with anton because you didn't want to cross paths with him more than necessary.

"i really can't believe you would take advantage of this situation to hook up with wonbin!"

"i'm just putting it in the air that i would totally fuck antons friend if given the opportunity. and with your little situation you give me the perfect opportunity to shoot my shot" she says matter of factly, and you know that you can't stop her once she has her mind to something so you just sigh.

"you're unbelievable"

after debriefing your saturday with sky, you two were still hanging out on the couch watching tv. truthfully, the tv was watching you both since you were both on your phones. while you were scrolling through videos, an unexpected notification pops on the top of your screen.

it was anton. what was he texting you for? technically you two were friends again, but you didn't know you two would be back on a texting basis so soon.

ant: are you back on campus? ant: this is anton btw you: i knew it was you you: but yeah i'm on campus, what's up? ant: can you meet me in the dining hall you: right now? ant: if you're not busy right now, then yeah you: i'll be there in 10

“i'm gonna go to the dining hall to get some snacks, you want anything?”

“just a soda pleaseee”

you go to your room to change your sweatpants to jeans and throw on a hoodie, then you make your way out of your apartment to meet anton. luckily, it wasn't a long walk from where you lived. it was a small apartment off campus that you and sky split. as you’re nearing your destination, you see the boy standing outside on his phone while he waited for you. he looks up and sees you, waving you over once you notice him.

“hey” he breathes out once you reach him, and you put your hands in your hoodie pocket while you look up at him.

“hi” you give him a small smile, following him as you two walk into the dining hall.

“you weren’t busy or anything, right? i didn't mean to interrupt your afternoon” he finds a nice table for you two to sit, and you watch as he fidgets with his fingers.

“no, no don't worry i wasn't doing anything. but what's up?”

he lets out a sigh and runs his fingers through his hair. he seemed nervous, which was making you nervous. you literally saw him yesterday, what could have happened in the last 24 hours?

“don’t be mad, okay?”

“you can’t tell me not to get mad anton, now i'm preparing to be mad.” you roll your eyes, the concern you had turning into a lack of patience. he should know by now how much of an impatient person you were, never liking suspense or surprises.

“well um, after yesterday my mom was really happy that we went on a ‘date’,” he puts finger quotes over the word date, and you raise an eyebrow “...and she kept going on and on about us being a couple”

“you told her we weren’t dating, right?”

silence. it was your time to sigh now, already knowing where this was headed.

“anton…” your voice drifts, and he jumps to defend himself.

“she was just so happy! i didn't want to let her down. so she’s kind of under the assumption that we’re dating.” he puts his head down, probably because he expected you to start yelling at any moment.

“dude! you can't just do that without telling me, now my mom’s gonna think we’re together too” it was your time to sigh now, confusion and a tang of anger brewing through you.

“i'm sorry, really. but thats why i needed to see you, i think i have a solution for this”

“the solution better be you telling your mom that we’re not together, anton” your voice is serious, and you fold your arms over your chest.

“well not exactly, we could just let our moms think we’re a couple whenever we are around them, but we don't have to really be together! that way we can still be friends and they can be happy” he says it like it's the greatest idea in the world, and you stare at him blankly for a few seconds.

“are you insane? i am not doing that.” a scoff leaves your lips, and he gives you a defeated look before he tries again.

“it's just for our moms! no one has to know” it’s honestly comical at this point how he was borderline begging you. but you understand where he’s coming from. if you told your mom that you and anton really weren’t dating, you would never hear the end of it and she would keep trying to get you two together.

“i'll think about it. but you're buying me lunch”

you spent the night in your room thinking. it really wasn't a bad idea, but fake or not, did you want to date anton? just for the sake of your moms, and no one else had to know. it would be believable in the eyes of your moms, since you two were friends again you two would be hanging out.

i guess i could pretend to date him for a little bit. how often would we be around our parents for it to be a problem? if we’re always on campus, they won't expect to see us that much. you were mumbling to yourself, weighing your options before you decided to text anton your decision.

you: i thought about it ant: so? you: it's just for our moms you: and you're buying me food for a month! ant: deal

you have your head in your hands while you try to keep yourself focused for the last 20 minutes of class, bored out of your mind while your professor talks at the slowest pace known to man. you're spacing out now, twirling your pen between your fingers and staring straight forward. letting your eyes drift, they fall on anton. he was sitting in the row in front of you, and from where he was sitting you were able to see his side profile. it almost looked like he was sleeping, which wouldn’t surprise you since you were also super bored.

how do you go back to being friends with someone after years of not talking? the two of you were cool but you can't help but think that it would be awkward for a little bit until you two were comfortable again. how much has he changed? how much have you changed? what if you have nothing in common anymore, and it was the universe's plan for you two to drift apart?

stop overthinking things, you guys are just friends. there was nothing to overthink, right?

after a few more minutes of arguing with your inner monologue, class is finally over. you're packing up your things when you notice someone is standing over you. you look up to see anton.

“do you want to get lunch? if you don't have any classes after this, of course. it'll be me and some of my friends, you can invite sky too if you want since i know you’re not very familiar with all of them” he says to you softly. You were kind of hungry now that he’s brought up food, and who would you be to deny a free meal?

“thank god you asked me, i'm starving. let me text sky to see if she wants to join” You get out of your seat and follow anton out of the classroom and to the dining hall.

you text sky to come to the dining hall, and that you'll be having lunch with anton. You tell her that wonbin will be there too knowing that she’ll get there faster than the speed of light. and you were right, once you and anton were turning the corner you could see sky out of breath as she came up to you.

“y/n!! no matter what i do, i just can't get my grade up higher than a c in chem! i don't know how anyone is passing that class, i swear i'm going to kill my professor- oh, hi anton!” sky is ranting to you while barely catching her breath, and then she realizes that anton was standing next to you. she gives him a smile, and then gives you a look.

if anton wasn’t right there, you would hit her and tell her to cut it out. You knew her look was a ‘he looks good’ type of look, and you didn't want him to pick up on her nonsense.

“hey sky, and who’s your chem professor? i heard mr.jung was a pain in the ass, one of my friends has him for chem too” you all make your way to where antons friends are sitting now, eying the group to see if anyone else you know is there.

“i have mr.jung! i swear im gonna kill myself if he doesn’t raise my grade.” sky pouts, and you all stand before the table, anton going to introduce you and sky to the group.

“guys this is y/n and sky” he raises his voice a bit so everyone can hear him, and everyone waves and says hi to you both. “y/n, sky, this is sohee, wonbin, sullyoon, and seunghan”

You already knew sohee and sullyoon, you all were partners in a project for bio last semester and got kind of close. and you didn’t know wonbin aside from sky thirsting over him for the last two years, showing you every little thing he posted on social media like he was some celebrity crush. and seunghan you weren’t too familiar with, could be simply because you don't have any classes with him in it and you don't know much of the friends anton has made since you two talked last.

you finally take a seat next to anton, sky and sohee sitting across from you. his friends are cool, you admit as you make good conversation with everyone at the table. you didn’t have a real friend group on campus, you mainly only talked to sky along with a few other people but they were all a part of different crowds. so it was nice that anton let you join in with his group of friends.

“do you want to get your food now? i can get it for you if you want to stay here,” anton leans over to talk to you, loud enough for only you to hear.

“no its fine ill come with” you turn to face him and you two let the table know you’re getting food and you’ll be right back.

you two grab trays and fill up your plates, now going to the line to pay for the food. You decide now you should quickly run over some rules about how this fake relationship is going to go, since you’re hanging out with his friends you don't want any suspicions about what your relationship with anton was.

“we’re keeping this whole thing a secret from our friends, right? ” you ask him, and he takes a moment to think before he responds.

“if you want to keep it a secret then sure, it might be weird to tell people that we’re faking a relationship, and that way we don't have to fake it in front of our friends” he lets out a soft laugh, and you nod in agreement.

“that’s true, telling sky that you’re my boyfriend would raise all kinds of hell”

Unfortunately, neither you or anton realized sohee was walking up behind you both and was able to pick up on the last bits of your conversation. intrigued, he butts in to stand in between you two. “hey guys, what's all this talk about boyfriend and girlfriend? You two dating?” he smirks, and you and anton stare at him and then at each other in shock.

this cannot be happening.

“What?” you let out a nervous chuckle “no, we’re not” it comes out faster than you can process, and you look at sohee with a smile hoping that he believes you. but he doesn't. not even a little bit.

he squints, giving you a look and then giving the same look to anton and then looking back at you. “You were just saying that anton was your boyfriend though.” you look past sohee to look at anton, he was paying for your food while you were being interrogated by sohee. Your body is heating up with anxiety, realizing nothing you say could get this boy to drop the topic. curse him for being so nosey.

“We just haven't told anyone yet, we didn’t want to make it a big deal.” anton chimes in before you could think of a reasonable response, and now you and sohee were looking at anton with wide eyes.

“this is great! we all thought there had to be something going on with you two,” he’s teasing you two now, and all you could do was sigh. this entire situation taking a sharp turn and you know that sohee was going to tell everyone, and there was no escape from being antons fake girlfriend.

Why did he have to tell sohee that you two were together? again, doing things without letting you know first. and he’s a bit of a loudmouth, so you know when he’s walking away that he’s going to tell the table that you two were together.

“What the fuck anton? Why did you do that” You whine, grabbing your food tray from him while you make your way back to the table.

You honestly don't even want to talk to him right now. You were annoyed, you were just agreeing that you two would keep it a secret?

anton follows close behind you, understanding your anger since he didn’t realize what he was saying until he said it. truthfully, his mind went into fight or flight for a moment. the easiest thing he could think of to get sohee to leave you two alone was to just give into what he was saying. obviously, he didn’t realize the gravity of his words until after the fact.

as you two approach the table, everyone is looking at you guys and smiling. You want to scream. this seriously cannot be my life.

“the love birds are back!!” Wonbin cheers, and the rest of the table follows along with whistles and cheers.

“y/n, why didn't you tell me! you had me thinking we hated him” sky pouts as you sit down, and antons ears perk up at this. you hated him? he took note in his mind to ask you about that later.

“you guys could have told us, y'know. we would have figured it out anyways. the tension is definitely there” sullyoon comments while she takes a bite of her food. the rest of the table nods in agreement, and you let out a small scoff.

What tension are they talking about? the few encounters with anton that you’ve had with him before this weekend were definitely tense, but only because it was awkward. Whatever tension they thought they felt was out of pure delusion.

You don't know how much more of this you could put up with.

the week went by slowly. almost too slow for your liking. it was finally friday, and your mom is texting you to come home for the weekend again, and to bring anton with you.

truthfully, you’ve been ignoring him all week. after that little stunt he pulled on monday, after you finished your food you lied and told everyone you had to get ready for your next class. it wasn’t a full lie since you did have a class, but it wasn't for another hour and a half. You just couldn't bear being at that table, and being around him. he texted you once you left to ask if you were alright, and you just gave him a simple ‘im fine’. he texted you again on tuesday, and then yesterday but you ignored them. You probably should respond, before he starts asking sky or sullyoon about you. and it would probably be a good idea to stop avoiding antons friends as well when you pass by them on campus. it wouldn’t be a good look for you or for anton, and you don't want to come off as rude to anyone

as you were packing some clothes along with your basic necessities to go to your moms house, your phone starts to ring. You walk over to where you set it to look at who was calling, and of course it was the person you were thinking about. You thought about declining it, but you decided to answer.

“What do you want, anton.” your voice was monotone and feigning annoyance, not really in the mood to talk to him.

“Um, are you doing anything right now?” he sounds nervous, and you decide maybe you should relax and talk to him calmly.

You might be upset with him right now, but you can’t be mean to him even if you tried. he was always sweet to you, so it wouldn’t be fair to talk to him like that if he wasn’t going to talk back.

“i’m just packing up some stuff to go to my moms. you’re going too, right? she wants to have a dinner or something, with us and your parents”

“yeah, that's why i called. im actually here to pick you up, it would be better if we showed up together than separately” he chuckles nervously and you hum in response.

“oh! okay well… i should hurry up then. i'll be outside in a few minutes.” you say quickly, and he lets out a soft ‘okay’ before ending the call. You shove everything into your little bag, not needing a lot since you already had things at your moms and you were only going to be there for the weekend. saying bye to sky, you put your shoes on and walk out to meet with anton outside.

once you push through the front doors of your apartment building, you see anton leaning on the door of his car while he waits for you. he sees you, and hurries to catch you and help you with your bag. it wasn't even a heavy bag, but the gesture was nice. and of course he’s opening the door to the passengers seat for you, making sure you’re fully seated before closing the door and making his way into the driver's seat.

he’s putting his seatbelt on when you decide to break the silence. “sorry for ignoring you all week. i was just kind of shaken by everything that happened monday” your voice is soft, playing with your fingers while you talk.

he doesn't say anything for a few seconds, and you start to wonder if he was mad at you. You couldn’t blame him, you would be mad if someone ignored you for a week too.

“it’s fine, i figured you wanted some space. i’m sorry i told sohee that we were dating, i kind of panicked and i didnt know how else to get him to leave us alone. and i didnt think he would go and tell everyone, so i’m sorry.”

“it’s okay, anton. i can't really be mad at you, because i don't even know if i would have said anything better than you did. it just caught me off guard” you’re looking at him now, shifting in the seat a bit so you weren't turning your neck too much. he looks at you and smiles softly, going back to looking at the road.

a comfortable silence fell between the two of you as he drove, the dreaded talk about monday relieving the awkward tension in the vehicle. as he turns into the neighborhood, you sigh knowing what's going to unfold once you step foot through the front door of your mothers house.

With the combination of your mom and antons mom being crazy about you two being together, you were glad that his dad was the only normal one. he was completely fine with you two just being good friends and you were so grateful for that. often, he would have to be the peacemaker in the room telling mrs.lee and your mom to calm down and let you two be.

“i think we should make some… ground rules for this whole thing. for now and for back on campus.” you state as he pulls into the driveway, and once he parks the car he shifts so he can face you.

“i agree, anything you have in mind?”

You two come up with some standard rules, some things are a hard no and some are subject to change.

rule #1- don't let anyone know its a fake relationship: it would be embarrassing if anyone knew that rule #2- keep it believable, but nothing extreme rule #3- adding onto number 2, keep the pda and flirting to a safe minimum, and no kissing rule #4- no dating/flirting with other people: fake or not, if people think you’re in a relationship do not try to get into another one. rule #5- anton owes you food for 3 months for putting you into this situation. its only fair! rule #6- the most important, do not catch feelings. You guys were just friends! two friends, pretending to date in front of your family and friends. it was all pretend though, no feelings were actually involved, right?

dinner went well, sitting next to anton while the adults talked about their own things and occasionally asking questions to the both of you. luckily not a lot of relationship topics were brought up. You two were able to have your own conversations throughout dinner, which reminded you of the dinners you all would have throughout your childhood.

once everyone was finished eating, anton helped your mother in the kitchen while you sat in the living room with his parents.

“y/n, i am so happy that you and anton are finally a couple! i feel like i’ve been waiting for this all my life” mrs.lee cheers, and you smile along with her. “isn't he just the sweetest boy?”

“he’s very sweet, probably the sweetest i’ve been with” you tell her and she's cheesing so hard. honestly, making the relationship believable wasn't going to be hard around mrs.lee and your mom, because you have no complaints about anton. he truly was the sweetest boy. even if you two weren’t really dating, he was respectful and very gentlemanly.

“We have his father to thank for that,” mrs.lee nudges at her husband, and he just gives a small chuckle at the comment.

“ i always taught him to be respectful. but truthfully the reason he’s so sweet to y/n is because he likes you” mr.lee starts, and you have to remember to not reject his words since you were trying to keep up an act here.

all you could do was let out an awkward laugh, not sure what to say to add onto the conversation. “maybe, but he’s sweet to everyone” you try to act humble, and mr.lee gives you a look that tells you that you were wrong.

“he may be nice to everyone, but i don't think you realize just how differently he treats you than anyone else. even when you two were younger and friends, he was always the nicest to you. and don't tell him i told you this, but he had a little crush on you back in middle and highschool.” he whispers the last part, and you feel your heart drop to your feet.

“h-he did? i had no idea…” words coming out soft now, you drop your head to stop the blood from rushing into your face.

“he would always come home and tell us about something you did that day. he got over it after a while, but i bet he’s so happy that you two are finally together!” mrs.lee swoons, and you suddenly feel lightheaded.

this is all too much. anton used to like you? how come he never said anything? You excused yourself from his parents, and made your way to the kitchen.

“hey mom, i’m a little tired so im gonna head upstairs.” You walk in to her drying and putting away dishes, while anton washes them. he looks over you, noticing the tone in your voice along with the look on your face wasn’t because of fatigue, but that something was wrong.

“okay baby, let me know if you need anything.” she walks to the end of the kitchen island where you were standing, giving you a hug goodnight. “anton, why don't you go with y/n upstairs? it's getting late, and i can finish up in the kitchen.” she turns from you to look at the boy scrubbing away at a pot, and he stops dead in his tracks at her words.

“i was just going to head back with my parents once we finished,” he starts, looking at your mom and then at you, not wanting to intrude. he did want to talk to you, but he didn’t want to be in your space if you didn't want him there.

“don't be silly, anton! You two are a couple and are old enough now, i don't have to separate you two” she laughs, and you and anton just stare at each other awkwardly. You were going to tell her to let it go, but because of the unique situation you two were in it was probably the best idea to follow your moms orders. You motion for him to follow you, you both saying goodnight to your mom and then to his parents. You’re walking towards the stairs to go to your room, when anton tells you that he’ll be back to get his bag out of his car.

While he grabs his things, you make your way up to your room. You leave the door open, just in case anton doesn't remember which room was yours. Walking to your window, you open it and stick your head out so you can get some fresh air.

What a night, you’re thinking to yourself. You need to calm down. With what happened on monday and what antons parents were telling you earlier, you were just too in your head. too much was happening too fast. Why was this affecting you so much? and with that you hear footsteps coming into your room and then a door closing.

“are you alright? You looked a little flushed downstairs” the soft voice calls to you, and you know that its anton.

You take a deep breath before turning to face him. “i'm fine. i am now, at least. i just kind of felt bad for lying right in my mom and your parents' faces. i had to get away from them” your voice is low while you speak, looking to the floor once again to avoid his eyes. he takes note of your body language, seeing that you’re a bit tense and awkward now but he doesn’t want to pry.

“if you want i can sleep on the floor,” he’s placing his bag on the chair by your desk, grabbing something to change into for bed.

“no, that's too uncomfortable. You can sleep on the bed” you say it in a way where its clear there's no room for debate, and he nods.

anton would never admit it to you, but he found you severely intimidating. even when you two were younger, he was always intimidated by you. You carried yourself well, you didn’t take bullshit from anyone, always got your way, and you were stubborn. he was surprised your personalities didn't clash, he felt like you wouldn't want to be friends with someone like him. but truthfully that's what brought you two together. it was like fire and ice, you were the fire and he was the ice to cool you down.

but with being the ice, he was too scared to touch you in fear that he would melt.

another week passes by, and you feel like you were going insane. You don't know what it is, but every time you see anton, your heart starts racing, your face heats up along with the rest of your body.

When he holds your hand or rests his hand on your thigh when you two were out with friends, you had to keep your composure to the best of your ability. especially when he would subconsciously graze his thumb across the back of your hand, the action small and going unnoticed to the naked eye, but feeling too intimate for you and you would pull your hand away.

the days that he would come over to your apartment or you would go to his dorm to hang out after classes, you found yourself feeling nervous. especially when you two were at your place, seeing him in your room and in your bed had you feeling like jelly. sometimes he would fall asleep before you, and you wouldn’t wake him up. it would be late, and you would feel bad for waking him up and making him go back to his dorm. You were comfortable enough around him anyways to tell him to move, and he never slept too close to you throughout those nights. a deep part of you wished he did, though. but you don't want to think about crossing that path yet.

a few more days passed, and on wednesday, you went with him to his swim practice so you two could go back to your apartment and order takeout once he was finished. You brought a book with you since you didn’t know much about swimming, and you wanted to keep yourself occupied while you waited.

an hour of practice goes by and lets just say, not a single page of the book you brought with you was read. not like you would be able to focus on reading anyways, seeing how he swam in the water was a lot more entertaining than you thought. along with how he looked when he pushed himself out of the water, full body on display. his broad shoulders, his toned arms and stomach, the droplets of water dripping from his hair down his back, the way he throws his head back to move his hair out of his face-

Wait a damn minute.

You needed to leave, feeling hot suddenly. Were you really sitting here thirsting over anton? of course, you always found him attractive. You would be silly if you didn't. but you never had any thoughts about him. and you don't want right now, in the campus pool, to be where you start. You walk down the bleachers, trying to think of an excuse of why you’re leaving the building.

“y/n? are you leaving?” anton catches you before you could find him, you turn around to see him speed walking towards you and you almost let out a giggle seeing he hasn't taken his goggles off.

“it’s just kind of humid in here. i'm gonna sit outside until you finish, okay?” you clutch your bag a bit tighter, him standing wet and shirtless in front of you is making you nervous. he’s peering down at you, smiling lightly before he lets you know he’ll be out in around 30 minutes.

You nearly trip on your way out, feeling refreshed once you finally escape the pool room air. You take your phone out of your pocket, debating on texting sky. she didn’t know that you and antons relationship was all a facade, so what exactly could you tell her? should you just tell her the truth? You couldn't do that, that would be breaking the rules. and who knows what she would do if she found out. You had to mask it with something else in order to get your feelings off your chest.

You: sky You: sky pls You: i'm going insane sky: what what what You: okay so… yk me and anton sky: i’m aware You: well we’ve been together for about two weeks and some days You: and there's been some tension You: that wasn't there before sky: like sexual? sky: you havent fucked that boy yet? You: omfg You: no! we haven't gotten there yet… sky: so ur telling me, you've been dating a fine ass man… sky: and you havent fucked him… for what reason? sky: better than me y/n… i would have been jumped his bones You: sky you are so unserious You: but help me out here! do i tell him? or do i just go for it sky: i say talk to him first because what if he isn't ready You: ur so right sky ily sky: lyt babes ;)

Using sex fantasies as a mask for your feelings was definitely a choice, but it helped you out regardless. of course, now you have more things to think about. did you really want to date anton? You told yourself you didn't before, but now you weren't so sure. he was the full package, everything you could ask for in a guy. so there was really nothing stopping you. but you two were friends.

he also used to like you back in grade school. key word: used to. What if he completely got over you and wouldn’t even think about dating you now? this was a tough situation, and you don't know how much longer you could keep this up with repressed feelings.

after 10 more minutes of overthinking, you can feel a presence behind you so you quickly turn your body to see anton right behind you.

“You ready?” he’s looking down at you again, hair slightly covering his eyes because of the beanie he wore. his body once again covered up by the baggy hoodie along with the black sweatpants he wore. You would never be able to guess how built he really was under the clothes he chose to wear.

You realize you might be staring a little too hard for a little too long so you give him a nod. “Yeah, let's go” and he’s taking you by the hand while you follow him to his car.

he drives you two to the nearest food place you guys could agree on. You two agree on getting wings for tonight, and then make your way to your apartment. once you enter, you see sky sitting in the living room. she gives you a look only you two would be able to understand, with anton right behind you.

sky greets you two, and anton greets her back while you take off your shoes and then make your way into the kitchen. You grab two sodas, and walk out to where anton was standing. he was usually a bit awkward around your apartment if you weren’t telling him where to go, too scared that he would touch something he shouldn’t.

following you to your room with the food, anton shuts the door softly behind him. the boy was already in comfortable clothes, taking a shower before he left the locker rooms after practice and made sure that he brought something he wouldn't be uncomfortable in. You were still wearing a pair of jeans and a cute crop top under a zip up hoodie.

“i'm gonna change in the bathroom, you can pull the food out and put something on the tv,” you tell the boy sitting on your bed, and he hums in response while you leave the room. Walking over to the bathroom down the hall, you take this time to relax yourself.

You quickly change into a pair of sweats and an old tshirt, and you walk further down the hall to the living room to quickly talk to sky.

“are you fucking him tonight? let me know so i can put in my headpho- ow!” you pinched her arm before she could finish her sentence.

“i am not fucking him! i just came out here to tell you that i'm gonna talk to him about it”

“okay, but if there's a change of plans let me know!”

truthfully you were going to tell him about your feelings, just not tonight. maybe friday, you got invited to a party that sohee was throwing at his frat and you know that anton will be there too.

You walk back into your room now, seeing the food laid out and a movie ready for you as you get situated next to anton on your bed. he put on some action movie, which was a genre you both equally enjoyed. being around anton was comfortable. You two were able to sit in silence, laugh, and talk without any judgments.

this could either end really good or really, really bad.

it was friday. the day you would tell anton about your feelings. Was it a good idea to tell him at a party? probably not, but the influence of alcohol might help you build up the much needed courage. What could possibly go wrong though, right? the worst he could say is no, and you two could just go back to being friends and drop the fake dating act.

You put on your best party dress, it was black and had the right amount of cleavage and rode up just enough for it to not be too skimpy. knowing how crazy sohee’s parties get, you wanted to make sure that you were dressed for the occasion along with getting antons attention.

sky calls you over, letting you know she’s ready to go. You ride in her car to the party, she’s known as the designated driver for you and your friends since she was the only one who didn't like to drink. What would you do without her?

right as you walk into the house, seunghan is at the door handing you a shot glass. You down it without question, making a face at the liquid burning down your throat. You would love to get absolutely shitfaced right now, but you want to find anton. You’re pushing through the crowd of people before you see him, he’s standing close to the patio window, red solo cup in hand while he talks to sohee and some other guys you’re not familiar with.

“hey anton,” you look at him happily, and he doesn’t even glance at you while he continues his conversation. Weird, he’s never blatantly ignored you like that, but maybe he thought you were someone else. You call him again and he finally looks at you. he glances at your outfit and then back to your face, little to no reaction to your presence.

“hi y/n” he looks at you with a look you can’t quite decipher, and you feel a slight tinge of pain in your chest at this. why was he suddenly so emotionless around you? was he drunk? “can i talk to you, it'll be quick?” he says loud enough for just you to hear, and he excuses himself from his friends while he leads you to a quiet, dimly lit hallway.

“What's up?”

and that's when he lays it on you.

“i think that we should end this.”

You nearly drop to your knees when you hear those words come out of his mouth. “huh?” is all you could muster up, playing it off as you couldn't hear him due to the party.

“this whole fake dating thing, i think we should end it. We’re just friends, right? not like we have feelings for each other or anything… and it’s just too much work and pressure to keep up with a fake relationship” he’s not looking at you now, and all you can do is stand there in shock.

it takes a minute for your brain to start working again, finally able to process your own thoughts and words.

“right. You’re right. i guess it’s for the best if we end it. i’ll um, i’ll see you around” and you’re walking away so fast anton didn't have a chance to say anything else and to stop yourself from crying in front of everyone at this party. You quickly find sky, interrupting her flirt session with wonbin to tell her you guys need to go. she’s holding your hand tight through the crowd and out the door, and once you’re in her car you’re letting it all out. the sobs are uncontrollable now, everything you held in 3 minutes ago just coming out.

You tell sky everything on the way home, feeling like there was no reason to keep anything a secret anymore. “that asshole! i’ll kill him, i really will” sky is heated now, she couldn’t stand seeing you like this and she couldn’t stand knowing who made you like this.

“he’s never talked to me like that. even when he’s annoyed at me! he’s never looked at me with absolutely no emotion… i don't understand what happened” you start to think out loud once you two are inside your apartment, tears dried and the confusion settling in. you’re pacing around the living room and you feel your phone vibrate in your purse. You pull it out to see anton calling you, and you press decline.

Whatever he has to say, you don't want to hear it. You should have known not to say anything. maybe if you had just waited until tomorrow. but if he wanted to end things, what would he have done if you confessed?

sky's phone was ringing now, she picks it up and is nearly yelling into her phone the second she presses answer.

“hello?... Yes, we’re fine. What the fuck is up with anton, man?…okay… i don't think that's going to happen for a while… okay bye.” she sets her phone down, and her eyes soften as she watches you continue to pace the living room. “that was wonbin on the phone, he said anton was a little drunk and he wants to talk to you when you can. they’re trying to sober him up now because he started drinking more after we left. What an idiot,” she’s next to you now, rubbing circles on your back while you stare at the wall.

Yeah, what an idiot. the both of you were idiots, it seems.

another week goes by, and you’ve completely shut everyone out. You ignore texts, you skip classes, you don't even leave the apartment to get food. thank goodness for doordash.

You check your phone, looking at all of the missed calls and messages from the people worried about you. one name sticks out the most, but that's the one name you don't want to talk to right now. avoiding him like he was the plague, along with any of his friends to make sure that he doesn’t hear about you.

Unknown information to you, but sky was out. she was out with the enemy, to be more specific. she had seen anton in the courtyard with wonbin and seunghan, and she made a beeline for the boy. he noticed her almost instantly, preparing for a well deserved lashing or maybe even a slap to the face, but she grabbed him by his forearm and dragged him to a quiet side of the courtyard where she could talk freely.

“You really fucked up, anton.” she's speaking softly. “she hasnt left her room in 5 days. i don't know what to do to get her out.”

“i’ve tried texting and calling her every day, but she doesn't respond.” his voice quieter than usual as he tries to explain himself.

“well can you blame her? you shut her feelings down before she could even get them out!” she’s quick to your defense, which was one of the reasons you loved sky. she always had your back.

“i… it's not like i don't have feelings for her, because shit, i’ve liked that girl since we were 13. but i didn't know that she felt the same way and i was too scared to ruin our friendship” he wanted to cry, ruining something that he wanted so badly with his own thoughts.

he knew that the fake dating would resurface old feelings, but along with the feelings came the other emotions that come with liking you. he was nervous around you, he was too scared that you wouldn’t like him back and that you were only doing this because he put you in this situation. Which was another reason he was too nervous to confess, because this relationship was fake. You two were friends who were just pretending to date. and neither of you were getting anything out of it, so why would you develop romantic feelings for him? he didn't think you liked him, and to protect his heart he had to let you go. but the moment he saw your face drop at that party with tears threatening to fall, he knew he made a mistake. he never wanted to see you make that face again, especially not if it was caused by him.

“You could have maybe asked her how she felt about you two before you just acted on a made up scenario in your head? like do you even think before you say things…” her voice is filled with confusion and annoyance, not understanding how someone could sabotage their own relationships the way he was. and you’re her best friend, so she felt obligated to get some answers for you.

“i was in panic mode! i couldn’t handle being her fake boyfriend anymore when i wanted to be with her for real. do you think she’ll hear me out?” if he had to get on his knees and beg you to give him another chance, he would. he couldn't bear not being with you, and he felt like he’d rather crawl into a corner and die than living his life without you again.

“i don't know, she’s doing everything in her power to avoid you right now. but you better fix this mess or i'll have your head on a stick” she smiles at the end of her threat, reaching to pat anton on the head before walking way.

he was going to make things right.

With a deep breath, anton is knocking on your front door. You were eating some leftovers from some food you ordered the day before, not bothering to order food today. sky must have forgotten her keys again, you think as you walk over to the front door.

“sky you can't keep forgetting your ke- oh.” the one person you dreaded seeing is standing at your door with a bouquet of flowers, and a bag of your favorite candy. if you weren't so upset right now, you probably would have swooned over him coming over unannounced.

“can we talk?” he takes in your appearance, you were wearing a hoodie along with a pair of shorts and slippers. You wouldn't say you looked a mess, but you would have put yourself together a bit more if you had known that anyone other than sky would see you today. his eyes are soft, filled with hope that you’ll let him in.

“i don't really want to talk to you right now” your face is blank, not wanting to show any sort of emotions. You could honestly cry, but you had to stay strong for yourself.

“please? it's really important,” it almost comes out as a plea, and you nearly drop the cold act. seeing him at your door like this, maybe you should let him in? not that you wanted to hear whatever he has to say, but he came all this way.

“fine, but make it quick” grabbing the flowers and candy from him, you let him in and you go to the kitchen to put the flowers in a vase. he sits on the end of your couch, and he's tapping his fingers on his knees while he waits for you to walk into the living room.

When you’re seated on the other end of the couch, you peer your head over to look at anton, who was almost visibly shaking from nervousness.

“okay, what do you want?” the cold act is back, wanting to hear him out before you fold. the gesture of him coming with flowers kind of gave away what was coming from him, but you didn't want to get excited too fast. he hurt your feelings last week, and you weren’t going to let it run past you that easily just because he came to you pleading with flowers. You could, and hell you definitely wanted to, but you were stronger than that.

something about anton made you so weak. normally a strong stubborn person, melting and giving in to whatever he says. You don't know how he could have this effect on you, no one else is able to make you putty in their hands the way anton does. but you can't let him know that. not now, at least.

“i need to apologize for everything. not just for last week, but for putting you into this situation in the first place. when this all started, our moms setting us up like that, i didnt think much of it. but then hanging out with you that day brought back so many memories and i didnt want to stray away from you again. so i lied to my mom, and then i brought up the fake dating idea to you. You probably never knew this, but i’ve had a crush on you since we were in middle school. it went away in junior year when we stopped talking, because you had gotten a boyfriend and i was so upset that you were with someone else. i was too scared to confess to you then, and even now i'm terrified. talking to you again resurfaced all of my old feelings for you and i thought that us being in a fake relationship would bring us closer together. and then i panicked, because i thought you wouldn't like me back. We were getting so close and i was too scared of rejection, i couldn’t tell if you had any feelings for me in that way, so i thought ending it now would stop me from getting hurt” he pauses, and you take in everything he’s saying.

tears that you tried to fight back were falling, you couldn't stop them while you listened to every word the boy beside you said knowing that he was being completely genuine. You could barely look at him, seeing that he looked like he was fighting back tears himself.

“and seeing you at the party, i was planning on talking to you after the party but you looked so pretty i knew i wouldn't be able to stick by your side as a fake boyfriend when all i wanted was to be your real boyfriend. i didn't mean to hurt you, seriously. it nearly killed me when i saw you look at me so heartbroken. i never want to make you upset like that again.“ he was crying too now, and somehow the two of you were no longer on either side of the couch but right in the middle. not touching, but close enough to feel each other's presence. after a minute of calming yourself down, you try to find the right words to say to the boy next to you.

“You’re an idiot, lee anton” is all you could muster up, almost laughing. You sniffle, and you look at anton while he still has his head down. “You’re really an idiot, because how could i not like you back? i’ve never been around a guy as sweet as you, and i might not have seen it a couple years ago but i see it now. Y’know, the other weekend when we were at my moms and you were helping clean up… your parents had told me about your old crush on me. that’s why i was so shaken up, because i was starting to realize my own feelings for you.” he’s finally looking at you now, tears wiped away and an almost smile on his face.

“they told you about that? i wanted to be the one to tell you” his face was a bright red from embarrassment, his parents exposing his past crush on you was not something he would expect from them. And the fact that you weren’t repulsed by his old crush caught him off guard. Of course, you have feelings for him now, but knowing that he liked you when you two were cringey teenagers? You should be laughing at him and calling him crazy.

“ after all the times i friendzoned you during that time? i don't know how you did it. i guess i deserved the rejection last friday as a payback from all the times i shut you down.” humoring the situation was the best thing you could do to ease the tension in the room, and you both chuckle softly at your comment.

he takes your hand into his, shifting his body so hes completely facing you, and you look down at your hands before looking back at his face. he was back to looking serious, with those soft pleading eyes burning into yours.

“y/n, i want you to know that i like you. i like you so much, it physically hurts. i never want to be away from you, and i never want to hurt you. and i want us to be together, for real this time. no bullshit, no rules, no more confusion. You’re the most amazing girl in the world and i can't imagine living a life without you in it. if you’ll let me, can i be your boyfriend?” you want to cry again, this was the cutest confession you’ve ever heard. You take a little bit too long to respond and his mouth is slowly turning into a frown, thinking he's about to be rejected.

“Yes, anton. You can be my boyfriend” you squeeze his hand and now he’s tearing up again. he feels like the happiest person on the planet, finally getting to be with you in the way he wanted. Happy tears stream down your face, and you pull anton into a hug, holding him tightly. He holds you just as tight, breath hitting your neck as he breathes in the scent of your neck.

“We need to go out and celebrate! I wanna take you out, on a real date, and then we can tell everyone that we’re officially together, and-” He had pulled out of your hug so he could list off everything he wanted to do with you, and you had to put your hands on his shoulders to keep him grounded. Even though you love his rambling, his words were coming out quicker than his thoughts and you had to calm him down.

“Woah, let's just hang out tonight? We can go out tomorrow. And we should wait to tell everyone, sky probably still wants to rip your head off and we don't need sohee or anyone else talking” he nods, and he’s still smiling from ear to ear while he looks at you.

“You’re right, i'm just so happy.” he has his hands on your knees now, and his eyes go from where his hands lay, your lips, and your eyes. You trail your eyes to his lips and to his neck, then back at his lips. It was like you both wanted the same thing, but both were too shy to say something. Subconsciously you were slowly closing the gap, his body leaning into yours as well. Noses almost touching, you look into his eyes and give his shoulder a small squeeze to motion him to make a move.

“Can i kiss you?” you can feel the words leaving his lips on your own, and a small desperate please leaves you before the gap is finally closed and his lips are on yours. It was a soft kiss, the both of you getting used to each other. His lips were so soft, and they molded perfectly with yours. You felt his tongue swipe your bottom lip, and you let him into your mouth while you kissed him harder. His hands that were on your knees have moved, one hand resting on your hip while the other made it up your body and cupping the back of your neck to keep you on him. Your hands also snake into his hair, playing with the strands while you two softly make out.

Anton felt like he was in heaven. Kissing you was a dream come true, and it topped anything he could ever imagine. He kissed you softly but full of desperation, like you were going to vanish out of thin air. His grip on your waist got tighter, slightly pulling your body into his and you gasped into his mouth. Pulling away, you look at how dazed anton was. he’s breathing hard, lips swollen and hair disheveled. You didn’t mean to work him up so much from just kissing you, but you can't deny that you weren’t a little worked up yourself. Kissing him was like something you’ve never felt before. A kiss filled with love and desperation was something you haven’t felt before, and it was something you hope you never get used to. You want to kiss him like that every time, all the time.

“Do you want to go to my room?” you breathe out, and he nods his head happily. You stand up, grabbing his hand to bring you to his room.

Your body was heating up, feeling slightly nervous. He’s been in your room before, but as your boyfriend? It was like something in the air shifted. A new tension filled the room once you two stepped inside your room, you closed the door softly before antons hands were on you and pressing your body to the door. You gasp at his sudden control, looking up at him and you see how dark his eyes have gotten. With one hand on your waist and one on the back of your neck, he pulls you in for another kiss. It wasn’t soft like before but still filled with desperation, like he was starved of your lips. Your hands move to his hair and onto his bicep, gripping his arm to hold yourself up while he kisses you eagerly.

He’s strong enough to keep you up himself, but you feel like if you don't hold tightly to him you would melt. The hand on your waist pulls you into him some more, and he’s moving you both from the door to your bed. It was a bit of a struggle getting there, neither of you pulling away to see where you were going. Stumbling on each other's feet, you finally make it to the bed. Only pulling away so he could let you down softly, and you move back to the end of the bed before he’s climbing on top of you. Slotting his own legs between yours, his lips are attaching to your neck and you move your head to the side so he has better access.

You can't ignore the way his thigh is right on your core, not moving but you feel the heat between your legs with how he’s sucking and biting little marks on your neck. His hands rest on your waist under the hoodie you wore, and you lift them just slightly to get a tiny bit of friction going. With every gasp and whimper you let out, it goes through his ears and straight to his dick.

Anton feels you moving, and your own leg that was between his was just right below his growing hard on. He shifts so both his legs are between yours, pressing his core into yours and you let out a moan at the pressure.

You pull at his hair, taking your other hand to run it down his chest and down to his stomach. When your hands stop by his waist,tugging at his shirt indicating that you want it off. “Anton, take your shirt off” you groan out, noticing how he’s too lost in you to notice.

He quickly pulls away, lips and hands leaving your body. You almost felt cold, not having his body heat on you for those quick seconds. He’s sitting up so he can remove his shirt and you stare him down intently as you watch his muscles flex. Biting your lip, you run your hand down his bare chest, taking in the body above you.

“Can i take this off you?” he’s tugging on your hoodie now, and you nod before he helps you sit up slightly to remove the clothing off you before laying you back down. He gasps when he realizes you didn’t have a bra on this whole time, and he instantly attaches his hands to your breasts and gives them a squeeze. You would think this was his first time seeing a woman naked the way he gawks at you, but he’s just so in awe of how beautiful you were.

Leaning back down, his lips are back on yours. It's hot and messy, you can barely breathe the way he touches you. His kisses are trailing back down to your neck, and then his lips find your nipple. You whimper feeling his tongue flick the sensitive bud, one hand tweaking the other. His other hand makes its way down to the hem of your shorts, slightly dipping into your shorts but not enough. Like he was waiting for you to tell him what to do, he left his fingers right there even if you rutted your hips into his hand as a way to get him to touch you. He still wasn't letting up, and you knew that he really wasn't going to touch you unless you told him.

“Anton,” you whine, and he takes his lips off your nipple. His breath on the bud making you shiver, and you whine out again.

“What's wrong, baby?” You couldn’t tell if his voice was laced with fake or genuine concern, and it was killing you. You were probably fully soaked through your panties and shorts, the ache between your thighs getting almost unbearable.

“Want you to touch me” a whine slips past your lips, and you move the hand that was on his chest over where his own rests under the hem of your shorts.

“Yeah?” he teases, finally putting his hand fully down your pants to rub you through your panties. You let out an eager mhm along with a fast nod, his fingers lightly grazing over your clit. You try to lift your hips up, but he takes his free hand to hold your hips down. “Gonna take my time with you, baby”

Moaning at his words, you moan again when his fingers finally slip past your panties and run through your slit. Collecting your arousal on his fingers, and he lets out a soft chuckle. “You’re so wet,”

“Stop teasing, ton. Need you” you swirl your hips around his fingers, trying to get him to use them. He might be putty in your hands outside the bedroom, but it was the complete opposite right now. He likes seeing you like this. Weak under him, begging for some type of release. He finally obliges, his thumb circling your clit softly while he slips two fingers into you. You moan, the ache in your core slowly subsiding.

He sits up so he can see your reactions fully. Your eyes were fluttering shut, mouth open slightly from the pleasure he was giving you. He moved his fingers a bit faster, and adding a bit more pressure onto your clit which made you moan. Your hand that was on his wrist gripped him tightly. He was making you feel so good, and he looked so good while doing it. With your half open eyes, you could see him focused on your cunt. His eyes were glossed over, looking from his hand that was in your pants, your face, your tits, then back to his hand.

He could honestly cum in his pants from the sight. Your breathing was labored and you were clenching on his fingers tighter, and he could tell that you were getting close. You usually last longer, but he made you feel so good it was overwhelming. And with how hot he was, it was hard for you to hold out.

“Cum for me, y/n. Make a mess on my fingers” His words were so vulgar, but his voice was so soft. With a few more harsh circles to your clit, your back was arched off the bed while your orgasm hit you. Nails digging into antons wrist while he continued thrusting his fingers in you to help you ride out your orgasm. Other hand was in the sheets, grabbing onto whatever your fingers could pick up.

When your breathing goes back to normal, anton pulls his fingers out of you and out of your pants, taking them into his mouth. It was so messy, and you moan watching him taste you on his fingers. He hums, pulling his fingers out of his mouth with a pop before running his hands down your thighs.

“You okay?” for a quick minute the soft boyfriend you knew was back, checking to make sure you were okay and if you wanted to continue. You give him a weak nod, eyes struggling to stay open. Your hands are pulling at the hem of his pants now, and he’s stepping off the bed to rid himself of the last of his clothing.

Through your half hazy gaze, you watch him taking off his pants along with his boxers. Your eyes nearly fall out of their sockets when you see his cock spring out of his pants. Holy shit, he was big. You knew he would be because he was just so big everywhere else, but it still took you by surprise. He gets back on the bed, settling between your legs once again.

“How do you want me?” you ask him sweetly, and he bites his lip at the question. He hadn’t thought about it, and now he was thinking of all the possibilities of how he could fuck you right now. He placed his hands on your legs, lifting them so they could wrap around his waist.

“Just stay like this,” he leans down so he's a bit closer to your face, but not close enough for you to kiss him. His lips were slightly parted and his breathing was heavy, and you wanted to kiss him so badly. He almost seems nervous. Which would be insane with the way he made you cum just a few minutes ago. You grab him by the back of his neck to pull him to your lips, and you can feel the way he softens in your hold.

Your other hand snakes its way between the two of you, grabbing onto his cock softly. He tenses up again, a choked moan comes out before he can process the noises coming out of him. You stroke him slowly while he struggles to kiss you back, and you bite his lip as you pull away.

“Need you now, toni” you whisper on his lips, and you look into his eyes before he’s sitting up once again. He groans while he pumps himself a few more times, and then he’s pressing his tip into you.

The both of you let out a moan while he’s pushing himself into you, and you bring both arms up to wrap around his forearms. It takes a minute before he's fully sheathed into you, and when he is you feel so full.

“let me know if it's too much, okay?” His hands grip your waist, and all you nod in response.

“Dont worry. I can take it.” you say confidently and he gives you a sly look before he pulls out almost completely, and then thrusts back in with a slow but deep thrust. He hisses, your pussy clenching around him so tightly. One of his hands moves from your waist up your chest, stopping at your breasts to play with one of your nipples while he finds his rhythm inside of you. The stimulation in both areas makes you cry out, your grip on antons arm getting impossibly tighter.

He was still processing the fact that you were under him. It was an unreal situation. Never did he think he’d be able to get the girl he’s always wanted. never did he think he would be in her room. Never did he think he would be having sex with her.

His pace picks up, your body jerking forward with each thrust. You could barely keep your eyes open, but the view in front of you was too good to miss. The way the muscles in his arms flexed when he drove his hips into yours, and you could see how his stomach contracted with each thrust. His eyes were focused on where the two of you connected while you stared at him, and your moans got increasingly louder with every touch and with every thrust.

You bring a hand down to your clit, drawing circles on the sensitive area while he fucked you. He was moaning louder now, soft whimpers leaving him every time you clenched around him.

“You’re so tight, baby” he’s leaning over you now, moving your hand from your clit and pinning it to your side. He swiftly takes his other hand and places his own fingers on your clit, and you nearly scream, the amount of pressure and speed he adds has your eyes rolling back.

He couldn’t get enough of you. If he put his hands somewhere, it would only be for a few seconds before he was moving them to a different part of your body. The hand he used to pin you down was now grabbing onto your thigh, hiking your leg up so he could put it over his shoulder.

The new angle had his cock hitting a spot deep inside you that you didn’t know existed, and you bite your lip to stop another scream from coming out. His other hand was still in between your bodies, rubbing your clit with a swiftness. Your hand goes to his chest, subconsciously pushing him from the stimulation.

“thought you could take it, baby. need me to slow down?” He teases, and his thrusts falter just enough for you to feel it and beg for more. Fingers still on your clit, pushing hard on the bud but not moving them. You could barely think of words to say, but the loss of stimulation was helping you gain consciousness.

“n-no! feelsso good… gna cum” tears swelling up in your eyes, you slur your words trying to tell him that he could keep going. you were so close, and you didn't want his teasing to rip the feeling of your orgasm bubbling going away, so you hoped he would continue the pace and send you over the edge soon.

pushing you into the mattress, he thrusts hard and the tears that glossed over your eyes were now falling down, the pleasure was so overwhelming. with the way he was pressing into you, the way he looked into your eyes with each thrust and you struggled to keep them open, the way his fingers expertly handled your clit while his lips hovered over yours, and the sweet words on how good you felt while you could only whine and babble incoherent words, you were so close to hitting your peak.

“cum for me baby, i got you” and with that your body almost caves in on itself, your orgasm hitting you like a truck. your legs were shaking and your back would have arched completely off the bed if it weren't for anton above you, still fucking you sensless to help you ride it out. a choked sob leaves your lips, too breathless to let out any moans. it quickly became overstimulating, pushing at whatever body parts your hands could reach. He wasn’t letting up though, chasing his own high now and was lost in the feeling of your pussy squeezing him deliciously.

“toni, s’too much! too much,” you whine, and the boy removes his fingers off your clit to lift himself up. he brings your leg down from his shoulder, and keeps it around his waist with your other leg. he’s still fucking you, and its still a lot but without the abuse to your clit you could tolerate the feeling of his cock fucking into you some more until he cums. His eyes were shut now leaning back down to bury his face into your neck. your hands wrap around him, running your fingers through his hair and leaving gentle tugs which elicit loud moans out of him

“tell me where to cum, baby. where do you want it?” his voice is rushed, and you know you’d have to think fast because he was a ticking time bomb.

“wherever you want toni,” your hands leave his hair so you could move him from your neck and cup his face, giving him a loving look before pulling him into a heated kiss, teeth clashing and lip biting. you slip your tongue into his mouth, swirling around with his while you two moan into each other. with a few sharp thrusts, he’s cumming inside of you. his hips still for a moment, your pussy milking his cock of every last drop of cum. he lets out a weak whimper, body feeling weak as he fucks his cum into you.

you moan, body feeling warm from his body heat along with the fullness of his cock and his cum inside of you. the both of you let out small groans when he’s pulling out, his body still on top of yours. he gives you a soft kiss to your forehead, and you give him a weak smile.

“did so well for me baby. was it okay?” his soft persona was back in full effect now, sitting up so he could help you get cleaned up.

“more than okay, anton”

he gives you a quick kiss before he’s hopping off the bed and finding his clothes on the floor. he puts his boxers on and his pants, then leaves your room quietly to go to the kitchen. When he turns the corner, he’s met with sky. she has headphones in so she doesn't notice him at first, but once she feels his presence she nearly jumps. then her startled face turns into disgust.

“you two are fucking nasty. when i told you to fix things between you two, i didn't mean come here and break the sound barrier.” she rolls her eyes, going back to fixing herself a snack.

“sorry,” an awkward chuckle leaves anton, and he quickly grabs a water out of the refrigerator and leaves the kitchen, slightly embarrassed by the confrontation. he makes his way back down the hall to go to your bathroom, and he rinses his face with cold water, still warm from your little activity just a few minutes ago. he runs one of your washcloths under warm water, and then he’s back in your room to clean you up. sitting down in front of you, he wipes you up in the places you were most sweaty, and then wiping your thighs and carefully wiping up the cum that was dripping out of you. you were still sensitive, wincing at the contact. he helps you sit up, and you run a hand through his hair. you reach over the edge of the bed to grab your hoodie off the floor, slipping it back on. suddenly feeling a little too bare in front of anton since he at least had on a pair of pants.

You admire the boy in front of you. He was the same, but different to you now. a sweet, beautiful boy, who was now all yours. a sweet boy who just fucked you to oblivion. a beautiful boy, who could put up with your attitude. who was weak for you, who would do anything for you. it makes you smile, the most perfect boy liked you and only you. and he was there your whole life, you two just had to figure it out on your own.

“i ran into sky in the kitchen,” his voice was low as he handed you the water he brought, and your eyes widened in shock that your friend was home. you didn’t think she would be home by this time, usually staying out until nighttime at the library before she came home.

“oh god, i didn't know she would be home this early. we’re never going to hear the end of this.” you whine, head in your hands. anton laughs, finding your reaction adorable. as embarrassing as it was to have someone hear you from the outside of your bedroom, he didn't have that much shame. the fact that you were loud enough to disturb the peace in the other room filled him with pride.

“she’ll be okay. this won't be the last time she hears anything come out of this room anyways” he gives you a cheeky grin, and you scoff before slapping his shoulder. who would have thought he would be so dirty?

“don't say that!! we’re gonna have to keep quiet if she’s home,”

“we’ll see about that. you talk a big game but you crumbled the second i put it in” he’s still grinning at you, saying it with such pride and you slap his arm again, face heating up at his words. now you have two things that you’ll never be able to live down.

“you’re sick, lee anton” you whine, and he just laughs before pulling you into a bear hug and laying the two of you onto the pillows. you two get comfortable fast, your back resting against his chest while his arms rest over your body after he pulls the covers over you two

“you like it though” he nuzzles into your neck, spooning you and rubbing soft circles on your stomach under your hoodie.

“maybe just a little”

while spending the rest of the night cuddling, you think that both of your moms were right about setting you two up. you’re suddenly grateful about that surprise ‘blind’ date, and that your mom was right about giving him a chance. laying with him just felt right. and you hope that you can lay with him forever.

A/N: let me know what you guys think !! i kind of half assed the editing, so i apologize if there's any errors + i know the capitalization is a little wacky throughout the fic. i hope you guys enjoyed this fic as much as i enjoyed writing it :)

💋 nav

#anton riize #riize smut #riize x reader #anton imagines #anton smut #anton x reader #riize anton #riize imagines #riize fanfic #riize fluff #lee anton #anton fluff #lee anton x reader #lee anton smut #lee anton fluff #lee anton imagines #toniiswrld #riize

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prettiedup · 5 months ago

Text

prettiest thing cont ❀˖°

pls do excuse any typos !

you would’ve stopped her, honestly. if it wasn’t for her moving at the speed of light and practically teleporting in front of him. you could only watch with wide eyes as your cousin, who’s just as short as you, lifts her hand and punches onyankopon right in his jaw.

a series of gasps escapes not only your throat but others also. you can’t tell if someone paused the music or if you just managed to tune the music out due to shock. your feet feel planted to the ground, you don’t know if you should hold back your cousin or check on him. your ears ring as she begins to swing her arms wildly.

“yo, zi, chill!” someone screams. instantly, people are trying to pull the two apart. more so, zinnia away from ony.

ony isn’t exactly fighting back if anything he’s trying to grab her wrists to detain her.

as the scene unfolded, you felt your chest tighten, and your breathing became short. the room seemed to spin around you, and the voices of your friends and strangers became distant echoes. panic surged through your veins like a tidal wave, threatening to engulf you in its overwhelming grip.

there’s so much going on, you feel sick. the urge to throw up courses through your body.

you clutch at your chest, trying to slow your racing heart, but it only seemed to beat faster. your thoughts spiral out of control, a mixture of fear and uncertainty. you struggle to make sense of what was happening, but the panic consumes you, clouding your mind with irrational thoughts.

then, in a moment of clarity, you recognize the familiar signs. this wasn't just nerves or stress—it was a full-blown panic attack. the realization hit you like a ton of bricks, sending a fresh wave of terror coursing through your veins.

the panic was relentless, its grip tightening with each passing moment. tears stung your eyes as you struggle to hold back the rising tide of emotion.

“yo itty bitty’s trippin’!” someone screams. you feel woozy and uncertain on your feet. everyone is packed so tightly, there’s barely any room to just breathe. you struggle to make sense of anything.

everyone froze in their spots when a sudden series of three shots rung through the air. for a moment no one in the house moved until one girl let out a gruesome scream and bolted towards the front door. and like the domino effect, everyone began rushing towards exits. panic ignites like wildfire, spreading through the room in a frenzy of desperate flight. you couldn’t find zinnia or sasha, not even ony. your legs struggle to keep up with the rapid running and rushing. Panic ignites like wildfire, spreading through the room in a frenzy of desperate flight. you close your eyes and just move with the crowd.

the night air gushes against your face the second you get outside. desperately, your lungs begin sucking in the much-needed air. you’re stumbling around, trying to find your cousin, a friend, an acquaintance, anything.

as you struggle to look around outside, you’re suddenly pushed onto the ground by a strong force. a deafening scream escapes your throat as you fall face first onto the ground. you instantly ball up into a ball and begin sobbing. you regret coming, you should’ve just told zinnia no and stood on that. your face is both burning and aching, you can’t think clearly, and you’re still trying to recover from a panic attack. you began pleading for any god that’s listening to you to give you the strength to get up and walk, but it feels impossible to do so.

you don’t know if seconds or minutes pass but suddenly you’re picked up into strong arms. you continue to squeeze your eyes shut, you refuse to open your eyes and accept that what was happening is your current reality. you try to fight out of the person’s arms, hitting whatever you can.

“chill, mama. ‘s me. it’s your ony.” instantly your eyes are snapping open and you’re looking at the familiar brown eyes you fell in love with. his chocolate brown eyes are laced with concern. “fuck, we needa go.” you can’t tell if he’s talking to you or himself.

a heartfelt sob spews from deep in your chest. it’s so loud and powerful that it makes even ony stumble a bit.

he begins walking, he never once loosens his grip around your body. he speeds walk you to his car, looking behind his direction every other second. truthfully, he’s not worried about his own safety. he wishes someone would pull out a gun on him. it’s your safety he’s stressing about. even though he can try with all of his might to protect you, life is spontaneous, and he doesn’t know what could happen in the next few seconds.

he sets you down in the passenger seat, he would’ve usually made sure you were all the way strapped in your seatbelt but with the uncertainty that you were safe he just closes the door and makes a straight line to the driver’s side. he doesn’t waste time pulling his car away from the house, he speeds down the street, going way over the speed limit.

you’re still crying, with your face burning, you’re hesitant to look at yourself in the mirror. your shaky hand reaches for the mirror but ony quickly stops you by grabbing your hand and mixing his fingers with yours.

“stop. just chill. we’ll worry about that when we get to the crib.” he tells you. his voice is steady, and he hardly looks affected by being punched.

you look down at your entwined hands with widened eyes. it’s been days since you felt any sense of affection from him and it all feels foreign in a way. you don’t know if you want to push his hand off of yours or welcome it with relieved tears.

“jus’ keep breathin’ for me. ‘mma get you straight.” he promises.

you don’t say anything. you plop your head against the headrest. you feel utterly exhausted. along with exhaustion, you feel guilt. you know you’re safe with ony but you have no idea where sasha or zinnia is.

the realization knocks the wind out of your chest, and you perk up instantly.

“i don’t know where they are.” your voice is hoarse.

ony doesn’t need you to clarify who you’re talking about because he already knows. “they’re safe.” he tells you simply.

“how am i supposed to know that?” you snap back.

ony squints his eyes at your attitude. he doesn’t comment on it nor does he respond back to you. the two of you weren’t exactly on good terms and with what just happened he knows you’re talking with emotion and not logic.

even while snapping at him, you don’t let his hand go. if anything, you squeeze it a little tighter as you try to calm your nerves.

minutes later, he’s pulling up to his apartment complex.

“i wanna go home, not here.” you tell him stubbornly.

“your face is fucked up, you really wanna scare your momma by coming home all bloody?” he asks sarcastically. dropping your hand from his. “‘m not gonna touch you. i jus’ wanna make sure your mental is alright.” he tells you before turning his car off and opening the driver’s door.

he helps you out of his car. he makes sure you can actually walk and not stumble. he makes quick work of guiding you through the lobby and into the elevator. you two ignore the worried look the receptionist gives you two. while not knowing the backstory, it does look fucked up from an outside perspective. the two of you are deathly silent as you stand beside each other. there’s a look of irritation on your face while ony looks like he’s barely concealing his stress.

you’ve been to his apartment a plethora of times, so many times that you don’t wait for him to guide you to his doorstep. you walk in front of him, making sure to stomp your feet a little. you make it to his door before he does. you stand in front of it with your arms crossed, a look of impatience is etched onto your bruised face.

while you should be thanking him for picking you up instead of leaving you to die, memories of what he’s been doing and what he’s been putting you through flutter through your mind. days prior, you had daydreamed how you were gonna approach him and apologize, and hopefully get back onto good terms with the male. it all felt good in your head but as you stand beside him you can feel nothing but hate and resentment.

your face is on fire, it still hurts to even frown. you don’t even have to look at it to know it’s bruised. it takes everything in you to not cry again.

ony finally unlocks the door, he allows you to walk in first before following you in.

it’s almost robotic, the way you step out of your shoes and place them beside onyankopon’s expensive shoes. just like you have many times before. the two of you move through his apartment in silence, a hurtful but obvious factor that things aren’t the same. just three weeks ago you were here, laughing and joking with him. just three weeks ago, this apartment was your safe place whenever your parents got too overbearing, just three weeks ago your moans were ringing throughout the rooms as he brought you to mind-buzzing orgasms over and over.

you let out a breath as memories begin hitting you like bricks. you shuffle into his living room, it looks exactly the same it did weeks ago. even down to the lego set you begged him to buy so that you two could build it together. you continue walking through the apartment, there’s no confidence in your steps like previously, only uncertainty. you walk into the bathroom and cut the lights on.

finally, you’re able to get a good look at your face. your heart skips in your chest as you observe the bruises. your entire left eye is swollen and irritated, there’s a bit of skin missing on the tip of your nose, and your lips are bruised with hues of blood still remaining. there’s some skin missing around your lips, and minor scratches littering your face in general. at the sight, you burst into tears. you took your appearance extremely serious and to see something so horrifying on your face一something everyone could see has you feeling sick.

it almost hurts to cry but you can’t stop the pity tears from escaping. what were you going to tell your parents? how could you manage walking out in public looking so bruised? you struggle to catch your breath as self deprecating thoughts flutter inside your head. you can’t stop looking at yourself. you’re almost struggling to accept that this is your face.

onyankopon rushes into the bathroom when he hears your wails. when he sees you looking at yourself he automatically sighs and reaches for you. he takes you into his arms and holds you against his chest. he lets out soft “shhs’” and “i knows’” in an attempt to calm you down. he knows you, he knows that you would have reacted this exact way the second he saw your face at the party.

“i told you to chill, mama.” his voice, devoid of any anger. it carried a tone of genuine empathy rather than resentment. it holds a warmth that seemed to embrace rather than accuse. there was softness to his words.

you can’t respond to him due to how hard you’re crying. whatever he’s saying goes in one ear and out of the other. all you can think about is the current state of your face, and the events that took place before it.

“n-need to make sure zinnia ‘s okay.” you sniffle into his shirt.

“i need you to trust me when i tell you zinnia is safe, a’ight? i watched her with my own two eyes get somewhere safe, baby.” he reassures you.

“what about sasha?”

“she’s with connie.” he responds. he keeps his voice steady and every word he says is full of certainty.

you stay quiet at his responses. knowing that your girls are okay does take a little edge off of your shoulders. your mind feels less clouded and you can breathe just a bit better, now.

he continues to hold you, not letting his grasp go. it feels good to have you in his arms again. it sucks because it’s under unfortunate circumstances, but he’d be lying if he said he hasn’t been needing this一needing you. there’s so much to discuss with you, so much to apologize about, so much to own up to. those things can wait, though. so much has happened to you and he somewhat suspects the adrenaline is still pumping through your veins just a bit.

he wants to fuss at you for coming to the party anyway, but he knows that it wasn’t your idea to come. you’re too much of an anxious person to suggest coming to a party. the likeliness of the two girls dragging you with them to the party is higher than you dragging them. he doesn’t even know if it’s his place to get on you for coming anymore. he hates knowing that you were in a circumstance that a stray bullet could have hit you, and not to mention your face connecting with the ground and bruising you. he doesn’t know if it’s a good thing or not he didn’t see the person that pushed you because he probably would have acted with emotion rather than logic at that very moment.

“let’s put somethin’ on your pretty face, mama.” he’s pulling you from his chest and guiding you to sit down on the toilet seat.

he washes his hands before squatting in front of you. the bathroom becomes silent besides your occasional sniffles. he softly rubs the cream on bruised spots on your face, you bite down on your lip as you examine his face. flawless mocha brown skin, his skin seemed to glow with an inner radiance, as if kissed by the sun itself. his fox shaped eyes, a mesmerizing shade of chocolate-like brown, held a depth that drew you in, they reflected a world of untold stories and hidden emotions. his full, pink lips, delicately glossed from the habitual swipe of his tongue. he looks like he was personally crafted, as if god took his time shaping and mapping every area of him. even just his natural resting face is fierce and attractive.

as his fingertips grazed delicately around your eye, a sudden involuntary twitch rippled through your body, a sharp intake of breath escaped your lips, along with a hiss of discomfort spilling into the air. he withdrew, his gaze flickering with concern as he studied your face intently. lines of worry furrowed his brow.

“can i continue?” he asks after a few seconds of waiting for the pained look to etch off of your face.

you nod your head and he resumes to softly apply it on your face. occasionally, you jolt or let out a soft when he touches a spot that’s still burning. once he finishes doing so, he drops his hand and just takes a moment to look at you. your eyes flutter as the two of you make eye contact. time seems to still as you two wait for the other to do something, anything.

nothing happens. he looks away a few seconds later, and stands up to walk out of the bathroom. he quickly comes back with a towel and two rags for you.

“‘mma set some clothes on you on the sink. they’ll be there before you get out.” he tells you as he turns on the shower head and adjusts it to the temperature that he knows you prefer.

he’s quick to walk out again and you’d be lying if you said a pang in your chest didn’t come to you. usually, he would have undressed the both of you and coaxed you to get into the shower with him. but that's the past, and you have to remind yourself of that.

you undress yourself and step into the shower. your eyes widen when you realize onyankopon kept all of your products inside of his shower. you blink back the tears and instead focus on washing yourself.

it’s a struggle to not think about everything that has happened to you so far. you have never felt so stressed in your life. with you and onyankopon going through an undeclared break up, zinnia punching him, you having a panic attack, and you getting pushed and bruised. you quite frankly feel you’re on the verge of going insane. it feels like bad things keep happening over and over, not giving you the time to recover from what happened previously before something else happens.

you find yourself standing within the confines of the apartment you once envisioned as a sanctuary, now transformed into a box of discomfort and unease. the air feels heavy with unresolved tension, each corner of the room echoing with the weight of unspoken words. every familiar object seems to taunt you with its silent witness to the downfall in your relationship. everything feels different and awkward and it makes you want to scream and pull out your hair. you two keep skipping over the elephant in the room instead of being adults and just discussing what happened.

you lose time on how long you stay in the shower. you scrub your body until it burns. by the time you step out, the water is no longer as hot and your fingertips have wrinkled. just as he promised, there’s clothes sitting on the sink, waiting to be used. you dry yourself off and use the lotion that he keeps on the counter.

once you’re clothed, you step out of the bathroom. you follow the sounds of shuffling and rummaging in the kitchen. ony is standing there, eating something out of a tupperware bowl. when he sees your figure coming closer to him, he looks up from his phone.

“you good?” he asks, observing your face for any signs of uncomfort.

“yeah.” you nod your head as you come closer to the island top. “‘m thirsty.” you comment.

ony is quick to move from his spot and grab a glass cup. he fills it up with cold water before handing you the glass. he watches you as you practically drink it all with three gulps. “wan’ some more?” he asks, an amused smile finds its way on his lips. when you nod your head once more he fills it up and just watches you.

you don’t finish it all like you did previously. you drink a good amount before you’re pushing the glass away. now that you're hydrated and less sweaty, it feels like you can actually think and make sense of things.

“what time is it?” you ask him.

onyankopon looks down at his screen, “12:27.” your eyes widened, you didn’t realize it had gotten so late so quickly. “you hungry?” he asks, gesturing towards his food.

“‘m okay. i wanna sleep.” you tell him. you stand there awkwardly, unsure of where to go. do you sleep on the couch? his bed? maybe he’ll even book you a room.

“i got my bed ready for you.” he goes back to eating his food.

you freeze up in your spot. you weren’t sure if you were ready to share a bed with him at the moment. too much has happened today, also you two are practically broken up. you suppose he could see the discomfort filling your body because he begins explaining his words.

“i’m sleepin’ on the couch.” he explains. “my door has a lock on it too if you feel the need to use it.”

you blink at him. once, twice, three times before you’re nodding your head at his words. “goodnight.” you say. you don’t walk away for a few seconds. you just stare at him, in total disbelief that this is how you’re treating each other now. you have so much to say as well as so much to ask. the words die quickly in your throat just as fast as they ignite.

the second your back touches the soft, black silk sheets that adorn his bed; you immediately relax. your shoulders slack and you can’t stop the little yawn from escaping your mouth.

you look over on his nightstand and you’re surprised to see your phone sitting there charging. you’re quick to pick it up. hundreds of notifications sit on your notification bar, you decide you’ll look deeper into those in the morning. you search for zinnia’s contact and when you finally find it, you press it.

the line rings for a few seconds, you assume she isn’t going to answer until it suddenly picks up.

“snookie.” she says the second it connects. you could hear the relief in her voice.

“it’s me.” you confirm. “you alright?”

“yeah. i just—i fuckin’ blacked out at that party.” she’s chuckling like it’s the most humorous thing in the world. “i bet his ass ain’t never been punched like that.”

you can’t stop the giggle from escaping your throat. zinnia has always been a wild card, especially when she thought with her emotions. that’s how she became known in your city, she was always fighting at one point in middle school and up until her junior year in high school. she had a bad habit of spazzing out whenever someone told her what to do, or when someone messed with someone she loved. while people outside of your family just saw her as a troubled instigator, you and your family knew she was an aggressive person, she’s just big on respect.

“i.. i kinda wish you didn’t punch him.” you admit. you could hear her smack her teeth through the phone. you’re sure she’s also rolling her eyes too. “i don’t want things to be bad blood between you and ony. you guys have known each other for years.”

“snookie, you’re my cousin. you’re basically lil sister. i would never put a nigga before you. and i know how the game goes, i won’t allow some random ass boy to play in your face.” she tells you. her voice is sincere. she wants so much for you. she knows you were sheltered and haven’t had much of a chance to actually spread your wings and fly without someone looking over you. she also knows how possessive ony get, it doesn’t take much to see that he has you wrapped around his finger. it bothers her in a sense. she’s afraid you’ll continue to fail to set boundaries and allow him to do as he pleases.

you bite down on your lip as you listen to her words. “i know. i just—” you’re cut off by her loudly sighing.

“just nothing. i punched that nigga in his shit and i’d do it again if i need to.”

you know how zinnia gets. instead of arguing with her or begging to change her mind, you just accept it. “i hear you.” is all you can say.

the two of you sit in silence for a few seconds. you can’t think of anything to say to keep the conversation going. after such a draining day, you just wanted to sleep for months. your mind goes back to your face, which is still aching a little. you should’ve just told zinnia no, you wished sasha didn’t call and wake up zinnia. if none of that would have happened, there wouldn’t be a wedge between zinnia and ony, and your face wouldn’t be bruised.

“where are you?” she asks.

you hesitate on your answer. she’s going to be pissed when you say your location, you can feel it. you stare at the wall ahead, trying to think of a coverup. when nothing comes to mind, you sigh in defeat.

“onyankopon’s house.” you admit.

“girl.” she practically yells into the phone. “how the hell did you get with him? how-what.. girl. i’m about to come get you.” you could shuffling in the background and the faint sound of the mattress crinkling.

“no! zinnia, no. your voice trembles with urgency, reverberating through the phone. “i’m safe. way safer with him than anywhere else right now.” you try to explain, your breath quickening as you search for the right words. The silence on the other end is heavy before she lets out a breath.

“bullshit. i knew something was up when i asked eren if he saw you. i fuckin’ knew it, he was too calm when he said you’re good.” she begins rambling on how she’s going to punch eren next and onyankopon again.

“z, i was literally having a panic attack when he found me. he’s been patient and careful with me this whole time. it’s just one night and then i’m goin’ right back to my house.”

zinnia sighs as she stops in her tracks. she could hear the begging and sincerity in your voice and it crushes her. you’re grown, she has to remind herself.

“alright. snooks. alright. just.. just stay safe, okay?” zinnia plops back down onto the bed.

“i will.” there was no one safer than ony. even if you guys were going through an unofficial breakup, you’re positive he still wouldn’t let anything happen to you. “where are you?” you ask when you faintly hear a voice in the background.

“eren’s.” she says quietly.

“and you’re mad at me?!” you exclaim with a laugh.

her and eren have been on and off for years now. most of the time their relationship ends because zinnia gets irritated or overwhelmed by eren and calls it quits. there little breakups barely last a week before they’re seeing each other again. this time’s no different.

“i think the line is breaking up. i-oops-bye!” she says before hanging up on you. i stare at your phone in shock, did she really hang up on you? you can’t do anything but laugh to yourself.

you decide to call sasha too, who answers on the first ring.

“about to get dick. i’m safe, are you safe?” she asks hurriedly. you could hear r&b music blaring in the background and the sound of connie’s singing.

“yeah, just was calling to make sure everything was alright.” you explain to her.

“more than alright. i’ll call you tomorrow, snooks. gotta go.” you usher her a quick bye before ending the call.

there’s no one to distract your thoughts, now. you’re forced to look around in the room you lost your virginity in, the room it felt like you were just in. memories of you and onyankopon stumbling through the door, his hands planted on your waist as he guided you to his bed. other times you two would be laughing while carrying a bag from your comfort fast food place. you’d be discussing the new episode of the tv show you two enjoyed watching together. you don’t even realize your eyes were watering until one of your tears ran down your cheek. you let out a huff as you wiped it away only to hiss in pain when you accidentally touch a bruised spot.

there’s no telling how long you lay in bed staring blankly at the walls and ceilings. your thoughts are so loud that you can’t even find it in you to get on your phone. there’s memories of him there too. thankfully, you doze off and the stress from today is something to worry about when you wake up.

₊˚⊹ ♡ ʚ🎀ɞ ♡ ⊹˚

“you sure you're straight?” onyankopon asks. his brown eyes take in your bruised face. even through all of the marks and bruises, you’re still so beautiful. he had made sure you were fed and that he put cream on your face before you two made the journey back to your house.

you stare out of the passenger window. your heart feels heavy, you’re worried that this will be the last time you two officially talk. even though you were so sad and mad at him, you love him. he’s your first everything, and everything he did felt genuine. it was hard to throw something so meaningful behind you. your bottom lip trembles as you try not to cry in front of him.

“i’ll make it.” is all you say. you try to keep up your disdained front, but onyankopon sees through it. he always does.

“i put the cream in your purse.” he tells you. he had made sure to drop it in while you were finishing the breakfast he bought you.

“thanks.” you basically whisper out. you should be screaming at him, you should be telling him you hate him, you should be disrespecting him just as much as he did you at the party. but none of those emotions could be forefront at the moment. you’re sad, scared, and confused. you truly don’t want to lose him but you couldn’t just pretend you didn’t see the video and accept the disrespect.

the two of you sit in silence. after what feels like an eternity, onyankopon lets out a long, weary sigh, breaking the awkward stillness that had settled between you. “i know i fucked up. ‘nd i know we need t’talk some shit out. i got some plays to make today, ‘nd ion wanna rush you t’talk to me if you don’t want to.” he’s careful with his words, he doesn’t want to say anything else that would upset you and make you hate him more. “when you’re ready, call or text me.”

finally, you look over at him. your eyes connect with his instantly and the familiar butterfly feeling returns in your gut. “alright.” you mumble. you pick up your purse and then open the door. you close it and without looking back like you usually would, you walk to your front porch. you could feel his eyes on you as you walked. it took almost all of your willpower to not look back.

you busy yourself with searching in your purse for your house key. he doesn’t pull off until you’re all the way in your eyes and the door is closed behind you. you don’t know how to feel. your relationship could possibly reconcile on your terms. you didn’t know if you wanted to reconcile. you’ve heard zinnia mention many times that she goes to eren’s for closure before they break up permanently, but she never comes back actually single. is that what’s going to happen with you and onyankopon? you’re sure he’s more mature than eren, so what if he decides to end things.

you’re so stuck in your thoughts you don’t realize your mother is calling you until she’s directly in your face. you had meant to rush into your bedroom and show your parents your face hours later. you’re sure your newfound state will be the talk of the house for the rest of the day now. her eyes are wide as she takes in your bruises, without a word her hand grabs your jaw. she assesses how bad things are with sharp eyes. you hold your breath as you wait for her to begin her lecturing.

“daughter.” she says as she drops her hand.

“hm?” you pretend you don’t notice her mood drop or the fact that you can practically feel the anger radiating off of her.

“before i trip the hell out, you’re an adult. and in a very adult manner, without beating around the bush, you’re going to tell me what the hell happened to your face.” she leaves no room for argument, every word spoken is stoic and firm.

“ma, can i tell you later?” you’re sighing with deflated shoulders. “i need to just be alone right now and think.” you try to explain yourself.

“this is why i’m so protective. i let you go out, and this is how you come back! have you seen your face? do you know you have to go out in public like that?!”

“please, ma. not right now.” your voice cracks as you plead with her to relax. the last thing you feel like dealing with is her fretting. “i’ll tell you, i just need some time alone.”

“did that damn boy put his hands on you?! tell me now so we can go to the police!” her accusation has your heart thumping a little faster in your chest.

you quickly grow defensive on onyankopon’s behalf. “he would never! i fell.” you tell her simply. you could tell from the way she rolled her eyes that she didn’t believe you which only irritated you further.

“you think i haven’t heard that before? that’s what girls always say to protect their boyfriend’s. i refuse to allow you to see him if一”

“he didn’t hit me! i fell! i was at a party, a fight broke out, it escalated into something further, and everyone got scared and started pushing. no one hit me, i was pushed and fell face first.” you make sure to leave out the fact that it was zinnia who got into a fight.

your mother’s sharp eyes eye you from head to toe. there’s a frown on her face that screams that she still doesn’t believe you. you feel the urge to cry, you were being truthful and telling her what happened from start to finish, and for her to not believe you made you want to scream.

“you’d tell me if he一no, anyone, put their hands on you. right?” her voice is calmer. you assume she’s trying to piece together your words.

“yes. you know i would. i know how crazy you and dad can get.” you try to slip in a joke to ease the tension that was brewing between the two of you. it seemed to work because a small smile cracked onto her lips as she nodded her head in agreement.

“mhm. everybody know we don’t play about our baby.” she chuckles. she gazes intently at your face for a few more seconds, her eyes searching yours as if looking for something unspoken. finally, she lets out a deep, weary sigh, her shoulders slumping slightly with the weight of unvoiced thoughts. “that’s how i know you’re my daughter. still pretty with scratches and shit on your face.”

you can’t stop the laugh from escaping past your lips. “i learned from the best.”

“your daddy’s upstairs. gone and show him you face so that he can get his shock out the way too.” she tells you.

you groan in annoyance at her words. “ma一”

“gone on.” she repeats firmer.

with hesitant, slow steps you take your time walking up the stairs. you knew your father was going to absolutely lose his shit. and you’re more than positive that he’s going to overreact before you can explain to him what happened. the walk to their bedroom is too short for your liking. you knock twice before you put your hand on the knob and slowly open the door.

“hey babygir一what the hell?! go get the gun!”

a heavy sigh escapes your lips as the realization hits you. you’re going to have to explain everything and soothe his worries, just as you did with your mother. the weight of the impending conversation settles on your shoulders, and you mentally brace yourself for the emotional rollercoaster ahead.

₊˚⊹ ♡ ʚ🎀ɞ ♡ ⊹˚

it’s been a week since you’ve talked to onyankopon. since the, you’ve been forcing yourself to go out more, regardless of what happened to your face. sasha and zinnia have doing wel on keeping you and your mind occupied. the three of you have been going on many nature walks, shopping trips, and road trips. it seems as if love was no longer in the air, as your two ‘sisters’ complained about their failing love life as well.

you three were walking a popular trail in your city. the path was lined with a diverse array of vibrant plants, their leaves rustling gently in the breeze. every so often, a flash of color would catch your eye as various birds and delicate butterflies flew by. all three of you were wearing pink pilates workout sets that you begged them to wear with you.

zinnia wiped off the sweat that formed on her forehead. “shit! it’s hot.”

“i miss my man.” sasha pouts as she lets out a dramatic fake cry.

“bitch, don’t we all.” zinnia rebuttals. she takes a gulps out of her water bottle while sasha begins ranting about connie.

“i didn’t even do shit to him this time! i think he’s on his boy period or something.” sasha groans.

“eren told me, i’m and i quote, ‘too crazy’.” zinnia’s lips tug into a frown “‘m not crazy, just sensual.” she defends herself.

“nah girl, you’re crazy. but eren is crazy too, so y’all are made for each other.” sasha tells zinnia.

“didn’t you chase connie down when you saw another girl in his car?”

you zone the two girls out. even though you’ve been going out more. it would be a lie to say you haven’t been missing ony, it’s gotten to the point where you find yourself tearing up a little and have to quickly mask it. you absolutely love spending time with your girls, the both of them together always make sure to make you laugh. but there were traits of ony that the two of them didn’t carry and couldn’t make you forget.

the urge to text him and possibly reconcile has been begging you to give in. you should hate him, you should absolutely despise him, but for some reason you don’t. you feel the urge to sit down with him, and simply ask him why. you had never done anything to disrespect him, ever, so why did he feel the need to disrespect you?

your mind races with a whirlwind of thoughts, each one pulling you in a different direction. part of you craves the closure that a conversation might bring, the chance to understand his actions and perhaps find some peace. yet, there's an undeniable fear that talking to him could reopen old wounds, making it even harder to move on. you find yourself questioning everything—did you miss the signs, were there red flags you ignored, or was it all just a cruel twist of fate? the uncertainty gnaws at you, leaving you torn between the need for answers and the instinct to protect your heart from further pain.

“snookie.” zinnia’s voice calls you out of your thoughts. you slightly flinch and look over at her. “you talked to ony recently?” she asks curiously.

“uh, no. we haven’t spoken since he dropped me off last week.” you tell the two. “he told me to call or text him whenever i’m ready.”

“are you ready?” sasha asks you.

you think on your words. you find yourself at a loss of words which causes you to shrug your shoulders unsurely. “i-uhm.. i think i’m kinda ready.” you say hesitantly.

“don’t be in a rush to talk. let him be without your presence for a little.” sasha tells you.

“that’s the thing, we’ve been going without talking for a while. and honestly i miss him, so much, maybe too much.” memories of what he did at the party flashes through your mind which causes you to internally shudder. “i think i might talk to him soon.” you huff.

the girls give each other a look before they give you any sort of vocal response. “you sure?” zinnia asks worrily. “i don’t want him to just sweet talk you and you instantly give in. we know you, snooks.”

you take in her words. what people don’t understand is that he’s your first everything. he holds a place in your heart that no person will ever compare to. regardless of if you end things with him or not, you’ll forever have love for him.

“i don’t know how it’s going to go, honestly. i’m just ready to talk to him and have a final answer.”

“well, just know we support whatever you choose.” sasha tells you while giving you a genuine smile.

₊˚⊹ ♡ ʚ🎀ɞ ♡ ⊹˚

the sound of partynextdoor's voice fills onyankopon's car. the smell of weed and a mixture of his strong cologne fills your smell. it's two merged smells that you've grown to miss. you feel strangely nervous to be around him, as if he wasn't just your boyfriend some weeks ago.

you're nervously typing in the three out of three group chat. you're updating the girls about every minor detail that happens. you were beginning to regret agreeing to meet up with him, you thought you would have been more confident and assured but just a lazy glance from his brown eyes had butterflies floating around inside your stomach.

you look down at the cupholder where his phone rests. that's what started it all. him leaving his phone and you taking it upon yourself to pick it up and go through it. you quickly learned your lesson, you probably will never touch anyone else's phone except yours for the rest of your life.

you wouldn't have had time to do it again, anyway. seconds later, onyankopon is approaching his car with both vanilla sundaes in his tattooed hands. he hands you yours before sitting down and making himself comfortable.

"thank you." the words leave your lips stiffly, lacking the warmth they once held. just weeks ago, you might have added a playful nickname, something intimate that rolled off your tongue with ease. now, the air between you feels thick with unspoken tension, making such casual familiarity feel out of place and awkward.

he mutters out a stilted “you’re welcome” before he’s putting his car in reverse and backing out of the parking lot.

he drives in silence, and you make no attempts to spark up a conversation. you have no clue of what to say to him first. occasionally, words bubble in your mouth and as you’re ready to vocalize them, you stop yourself.

the drive isn’t particularly long. quicker than you expected, ony is pulling into a secluded spot that overlooks the river running through your city. the location is perfect, offering an unobstructed view of the sunset. the sky is awash with warm orange hues, casting a gentle glow over the water, the scene feels almost surreal, the calmness of the view displayed to you wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. it’s short lived when he puts his car into park and turns it off, only the music is running. your heart drops as you realize the inevitable is about to happen.

you focus intently on your sundae, trying to distract yourself. your stomach is doing flips, making it nearly impossible to swallow the sweet, creamy bites. each spoonful feels like an effort, the sugary treat almost too much to handle the turmoil inside you.

“how have you been?” his voice makes you flinch a little. you thought he was going to stay just as quiet as you.

“i’ve been good.” terse and short. you’re not even doing it on purpose, it’s just all you could provide. “how about you?” you add on to seem less rude.

he takes a spoonful of his ice cream before he responds to you. “life has been lifing.” he chuckles but it seems forced.

“oh.” is all you can provide. admittedly, hearing that he’s been going through things and not everything has been peaches and cream for him fulfills some insecure part in your brain.

“snookums.” the nickname he used to call you had your eyes suddenly watering. you pretend to not be affected by his words by inhaling a restricting amount of ice cream. “i’ve never felt like this about anyone, ever. i want us to work, forreal. i don’t think i can continue livin’ my life without you in it. you’re all pink ‘nd glittery ‘nd shit. you deadass walked into my life and brightened shit up. i love it. i love you.” ony finishes off his words with a heavy inhale. the sound of the water clashing against each other fills the silence as you try to collect your words.

tears continue to threaten to spill past your eyes as you stare out of the windshield window. you feel so overwhelmed, there were hundreds—millions of. things you wanted to say to him when you were mad but now that you’re calm and thinking, you have nothing to say. deep down, past your rapidly beating heart, you knew that you didn’t want your relationship to end. but it’s choosing between fighting for your relationship and accepting his wrongdoings or ending things now and keeping some sort of morals.

you don’t even realize tears are dripping down your face until ony’s fingers wipe under your eyes, catching a few stray tears. you turn your head to look at him, his chocolate eyes are only on you. there’s a restless look on his face. was no contact hurting him as much as it was hurting you? you honestly hoped it was.

your words die in your throat every time you try to form a sentence. you could only sniffle and rub at your eyes.

“w-why? just.. why? why’d.. you let her dance on you? why’d you go an-and embarrass me like that?” you barely manage to get everything out without bursting into tears. your voice is wobbly and cracked. you hate feeling like this.

“i was high ‘nd drunk as fuck. but that does not at all excuse my actions. i’m genuinely sorry for my actions and i hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.” his voice sounds sincere, and the way he's gazing at you, with his eyes practically begging for a second chance, makes it clear how much he means it.

you take a deep breath, feeling the weight of his words. the hurt still lingers, but so does the memory of the good times. now’s the time to be an adult, to communicate thoroughly, to set boundaries and not just go with whatever he says.

"what you did.. really hurt me.” you sigh out before continuing. “and it's going to take time to rebuild that trust. but i can see how sorry you are, a-and i want to believe that you can change. i need to know that this won't happen again." you say quietly, your voice trembling slightly. you look into his eyes, searching for the sincerity you hope is there.

“i swear on everything that this won’t happen ever again, i’ll deactivate what ever account, i’ll stop goin’ to parties, all of it. you matter more than any social media page or party, i’ll forever choose your love.” he tells you sincerely. his voice carries a blend of determination and vulnerability. timidly, he reaches for your left hand, his fingers trembling slightly as he gently lifts it. when you allow him to grasp it, he envelops your smaller hand in his larger, warmer grip, a gesture of his earnest plea for forgiveness.

₊˚⊹ ♡ ʚ🎀ɞ ♡ ⊹˚

“and yeah.. i took him back.” you finish recalling the events that took place to zinnia and sasha. the three of you are lounging on your bed, spiraled in different positions so that all three of you could fit. the two girls were hanging onto every word you said, nosily. “i know i’m stupid or naive but一” you’re cut off by zinnia talking over you.

“none of that, snookie. you’re young and in love. no one knows you better than you know him and if you want to give him another chance then so be it. don’t block yourself from love worrying about what everyone else is going to say or think.” your cousin’s words are firm and she’s looking directly into your face to let you know she’s serious. “it’s your first serious relationship, not everything’s gonna be perfect.”

“literally. have you seen how many times we went back to these damn men? we might not like them right now, but we do love them.” sasha backs up zinnia’s words.

“well, i wouldn’t say i love eren, but he’s real chill y’know? zinnia's voice trails off as both you and sasha exchange an unimpressed glance. sasha raises an eyebrow, and you stifle a sigh, knowing exactly where this conversation is heading. “what?! i’m serious!” ainnia insists, her tone defensive, but her attempt to convince you falls flat. “

your cousin’s a liar, maybe you shouldn’t listen to her advice.” sasha side eyes zinnia some more.

the girls begin bickering while you think back to onyankopon. he has been trying to do better and also get the relationship back to how things were before the argument. he’s constantly checking up on you, making sure you’re still applying cream to your fading bruises, and sending you money whenever you mention the slightest things. the awkwardness that manifests sometimes still lingers between the two of you, but you both try to work around it and adjust.

he’s been having an uproar of clients which means having to stay on the go constantly since he also delivers. he still makes sure to find time to call you and talk about your day and plans. you feel like a giddy teenager having their first crush.

“when’s the last time you and connie talked?” zinnia asks sasha.

“while i was driving over here. i had him on bluetooth, and asked him if he still hates me. he told me i ‘ruined his life’. like okay mr.dramatic.” sasha recounts while rolling her eyes and shrugging her shoulders.

“he might be onto something.” zinnia comments.

“oh, please!” sasha responds defensively.

these two girls have made sure to keep you content and entertained this entire time. they’ve never judged you or made you feel left out and confused. and you’re so grateful for them. you don’t even realize you’re crying until their attention is placed onto you and they’re both gazing at you with confused curiosity.

“snookie, what’s wrong?” sasha asks worrily. “is it cause i brought up connie? his vibe is negative right now but he’s not that bad of a person.”

you huff out a laugh at her words. with the end of your shirt, you use it to dab at your eyes. “no it’s not that. i just一i’m so grateful to have you both. y’all have been so supportive and understanding. and i’m so thankful.” you finish off your words weakly. instead of successfully wiping at your tears you’ve only managed to multiply them.

“awe, snookie! you’re gonna make me cry!” zinnia exclaims while wiping at her eyes. “you’re our lil’ sister why wouldn’t we be here for you?” she sniffles.

“you mean the world to us. and you were going through an extremely vulnerable situation, of course we were going to make sure you stayed level headed.” sasha adds on, her voice filled with empathy and concern.

all three of you find yourselves caught in a chorus of sniffles, a harmony of shared vulnerability while comforting each other. the scene is both comical and beautiful. three women that have each other as a solid support system. all three of your personalities are polar but they still manage to successfully merge and create a beautiful sisterhood.

after the three of you calm down and go back to your usual selves, you decide to spark up the conversation again. “ony wants me to come over his crib tonight.” you tell them nervously.

they both look up from their phones and look at you. zinnia has a look of hesitance while sasha has a smirk on her lips.

“snookie’s trying t’get freaky!” sasha laughs. with a sly smile on your lips, you cover your face in embarrassment. she isn’t exactly wrong. it’s been a while. you went from getting some almost everyday, including multiple times a day, to none. late night when it was just you in your room, you get wandering thoughts and memories that are too extreme to ignore.

“it would be nice.” you giggle shyly.

“don’t think you have to have sex with him, okay? just ‘cus y’all are together again doesn’t mean he needs to be inside you.” zinnia lectures. she really does just want the best for you, and she’s aware that you just want to go out and live. she doesn’t want to be sheltering like your parents, but she does want you to be safe.

“okay.” you nod your head. you’re aware that she just wants the best for you.

“don’t end up having a mini ony.” sasha warns you.

₊˚⊹ ♡ ʚ🎀ɞ ♡ ⊹˚

“ohmygod!” you squeal. your legs are spread open with onyankopon’s broad figure in between them. everything about him is so big, including the fingers that are rubbing at your clit. “baby.” the word escapes from your mouth weakly as your hands clench at the messy covers.

onyankopon busies himself with kissing at your jaw, his full lips leave trails of wet kisses. you felt so full, if you concentrated enough it almost felt like he was going beyond the confines of your walls and into your stomach.

“missed you, baby.” his tone is soft as he continues his trailing. the sound of his lips smacking against your skin and your body’s merging together to create a lustful harmony echo’s through his bedroom.

“missed you too.” you heave out. he’s taking his time to fuck you. his thrusts are articulated and rhythmic, he never skips a beat as he fills you up over and over again. the sound of his heavy balls slapping against your ass almost embarrasses you.

your pussy’s a sputtering mess, gushes of your arousal continue to coat his dick every time he pushes his thick dick into your warm walls. the only time he’s ever fucked you so slow and sincerely is the night he took your virginity. there’s something about the slow pull of his hips that has you going crazy. he’s moving so slow but it’s enough to fill you up and have you muttering words of love.

“you missed getting fucked like this, baby? hm? missed the way i filled you up?” he moves to your ear to whisper sweet little praises. everything he’s muttering to you sounds good. he hasn’t fucked you to the point that you could feel yourself going dumb. instead, you feel an infinite amount of love for him, with the way he’s slowly moving and talking to you, is this what making love feels like? you wonder to yourself.

“yes, ony, missed it so much.” you moan.

“jus’ love you s’much.” ony mumbles to you. his tongue darts out to trace the shell of your ear. he’s going even slower it feels like.

“faster, ony.” you whine. you were absolutely enjoying his slow languid thrusts but you were beginning to grow more needy. you wanted him to fuck you like he usually did. rough, unforgiving, and nasty.

“y’asking or telling, baby?” he taunts. he stops his thrusting all together which draws another whine out of you, this time more frustrated than the other.

“asking.” you’re pouting and grabbing at his shoulders. you look so small under him, it makes him want to be mean. he knows you can take it, you always do.

ony moves back to your lips, he doesn’t rush to connect his lips with yours. instead, he lets his linger by yours while looking deeply into your eyes. even after talking and forgiving him, there’s so much left to be said. he knows it’ll take time to rebuild the trust you had in him and plans on making sure to never put you in a predicament like that again. slowly, he leans into you and presses his lips yours.

you get so caught up in the steamy kiss, you don’t realize he had begun to move his hips again. not until, he gives you a particularly hard thrust that has you pulling away from the kiss so that you could moan freely.

he plows his dick into your aroused cunt causing soft mewls to escape from your mouth. you had begun biting down on your lip, he realizes. ony smacks his teeth and stops once again. wordlessly, he had leaned up and placed one of your legs on his shoulder.

a loud moan frees itself from you when he suddenly starts pounding your pussy. the rough, firm rhythm is back, just faster.

“‘m sorry.” he repeats to you. he’s letting out moans and huffs himself as he loses himself inside your tight, wet pussy.

“mmm!” is all you can groan in response. your brain can’t handle words at the moment. your eyes zero in on where the two of you are connected. there’s a thick white coat around his dick and some splatters on his pubic hair.

“gonna make it up t’you. i love you.” he promises with a desperate whine.

his finger goes back to fondling with your sensitive clit. your back arches up, which only gives a better view at your chest. “love you too—love you more.” you gasp out.

that night, he makes love to you over and over until the two of you are extremely exhausted. he makes sure to apologize, to make promises he guarantees he’s going to fulfill, and to never hurt you like that ever again.

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bratbby333 · 7 months ago

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your beauty never scared me ˚➶ ｡˚ ☁️ suguru geto

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ synopsis: after having your heart broken, your best friend helps you pick up the pieces ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ content + warnings: nsfw + mdni !! fem!reader x suguru, reader was in a toxic relationship + cheated on, fwb!suguru, angst, comfort, smut, unprotected sex ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ word count: 5k (+ a smau!! woo!!) ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ author notes: pink indicates reader's pov, orange is suguru's...inspired by Will Grayson, Will Grayson by John Green <3 also this was not beta read so pls excuse any typos xx i hope yall enjoy !!

Heartache has its own special way of ruining someone…

...stripping away every ounce of self-respect you work so hard to accumulate. That’s the trouble with letting people in. The outcome is almost always undecided, left in the hands of fate or whatever the hell you believe in. Perhaps it's a moment of weakness, letting a stranger entangle themselves with every fiber of your being, see every inch of your skin, explore the darker parts of your mind– even the things you hide from yourself. Putting trust in the wrong things, the wrong people. Never knowing someone’s true intentions until you discover them in bed, in your bed, with another. When something breaks inside of you, something cynical puts the pieces back together. You are a shell of who you once were. Blame it on soul-crushing character development.

It’s hard to watch the woman you love destroy herself…

...for the sake of holding on to someone who has only ill-intent in their heart. Perhaps it’s best to remove yourself. It’s agonizing, knowing you have the ability to save her from all this. You could relieve her of the heartache, free her from the suffering. Bring her nothing but joy. She has changed, evolved, and is nearly unrecognizable now. You watch as he withers her down into nothing. That man broke her, leaving her to pick up the pieces. And the woman you see now isn’t the same one you knew all those years ago.

The cold air of December flurries around outside as your chest erupts in warmth at the sight of her name illuminating your lock screen. She asks to see you, and you’d be a fool to decline. As she’s sat before you, you take in every part of her that you missed. But she’s different now. Dull eyes, sloping shoulders, her cheekbones are sunken in as her clothes hang from her figure like it's two sizes too big. But it isn’t, you remember the day she bought that t-shirt. The soul that normally inhabits her body has been replaced with something…unrecognizable. You know it’s her, but your mind tells you otherwise. The way her voice lilts from her lips, how chillingly different she sounds while delivering the news, it’s heartbreaking.

She informs you she won’t be around much, mentioning that it will take time for her to heal from this. You pretend to be supportive of the distance she wants to place between herself and her loved ones, even though it absolutely crushes you.

There’s something peaceful about loneliness…

…only relying on yourself for company. It can be draining of course. With the few friends you do have, you make the most of it. It’s a serene feeling, private even. People perceive you however they please, but only a few trusted individuals know your ins and outs. It's refreshing.

God forbid you have to cater to someone else, especially when dating. It's hard enough having to take care of yourself. You make sure your friends know they’re loved and appreciated, of course, but the idea of inviting another person into your life; someone who demands your time and attention in order for it to work out? No thank you. It’s backfired for you many times before, you aren’t willing to go through it again. Your friends have watched you heal from heartbreak after heartbreak, each one more damning than the last. No one blames you for your cynicism, it’s understandable.

Plus, the emotional upkeep of a romantic relationship is exhausting. And the idea of meeting someone, falling for them, and it not working out in the end? Torturous. Why put yourself through all that?

“You just haven’t found the right one!”

“They’ll come around when you least expect it!”

“You gotta put yourself back out there!”

Blah, blah, blah. Not interested. There’s no room for hopeless romance in this ill-fated world. You’re not dealing with that pain anymore. Not if you can help it.

The trouble with love is that it’s cruel…

…discriminatory, even. Picking and choosing who gets to rejoice in its bliss and simultaneously alienating the unfortunate souls who suffer in its unyielding grip. You attempt to find peace in the silence of her absence, telling yourself that she’s okay, but knowing all too well that her precious heart is still shackled to someone so undeserving. You hold on to the irregular check-in’s you get from her. You hope she’s healing, and you prepare yourself for the outcome; that when she finally returns, she will not be the same person she was.

Betrayal has a pesky habit of sticking around…

…a lingering feeling that still eats away at you. The night you caught him in his infidelity, something deep within you broke. It wasn’t your heart, no, that would be too simple. It was your psyche, the core of your being. The day he left, a part of you left with him. The chemistry of your brain changed, your atomic makeup shifting toward nihilism.

So you move through life differently now. Every positive outlook you once had now cast to the wayside, replaced with unyielding suspicion in attempts to keep your heart guarded from the outside world. Hope has finally run out, the idea that there’s good in everyone proven to be a goddamn lie. You shove your desire for love into a padded safe and hide it away on a forgotten shelf in your mind. Hell, you’d burn that obnoxious feeling if you could. Run it through a meat grinder, chuck it into a volcano, nuke it. Doesn’t matter. Anything to stop it from tearing you apart. It’s not like it’s done you any good. Besides, who would want someone as damaged as you?

Part of you feels guilty…

…for sitting idly by, knowing your dear friend was hurting so deeply. But there wasn’t much you could do. You grant her space, knowing she wasn’t given that same courtesy for four years of her life. You pray she returns soon, aware that she doesn’t do well on her own. Her own mind is acting like a prison, holding her hostage, forcing her to relive her pain day in and day out. But, god damn it, you can’t take it anymore. You have been without her for so long. So you reach out, demanding she spend time with you. Self-isolation can only get you so far. It had been months since you’d seen her last. And to your surprise, she agrees.

A spring evening, 65 degrees, the setting sun…

…a gentle breeze that laps at your warm skin as you sit cross-legged on a checkered blanket. The beautiful flowers of May decorate the ground in colorful clusters. The cicadas sing while the bees are busy buzzing around. It’s a strange feeling; coping with the fact that your life has reached rock-bottom, a total stand-still as you work to heal yourself, yet life continues to move, to grow, to thrive. It’s inspiring in a way. You are accompanied by Suguru. He managed to get you out of the house after weeks of rotting away inside, anchored down by the gut wrenching feeling of heartbreak.

Laughter echoes through the park as the two of you revel in the serenity. Life feels…good. Whole. Worth living. It’s been a while since it has felt this way. It shouldn't feel strange, but it does. Happiness has become a foreign concept to you.

Sitting before you is the woman you love…

…the color in her cheeks has returned, the fullness of her face present once more. After suffering through the many months of thunder and unrelenting downpour in her mind, she has bloomed once more. Finally. You couldn’t pull your attention away from her even if you wanted to, your body and mind drawn to her in the most spiritual way. Even though she’s deep in thought, working to take in her surroundings, her beauty is still very much evident. She isn’t even aware of the power she holds– utterly entrancing. You would do anything to live in this moment forever. You’d do anything for her.

But in this moment…

…with a forgotten feeling of fulfillment creeping its way into your chest as the soft rays of the sun dance across your skin and the sounds of nature swirl through your ears, you realize something. Something so beautiful, yet so fucking terrifying. You love him. Suguru. Maybe it was just your heartache talking, connecting dots that had no business associating.

You brush it off, hide it away, and chalk it up to just being in a vulnerable moment. Your heart had been torn from your body only a few months prior. Anger still rips through your chest when you think about it. Four years wasted on someone you had placed on the highest pedestal, far higher than you placed your family, your friends…yourself. You were blindsided. In an instant, everything you had come to love, the home you felt safe in, the person you thought you knew…ripped away. Like it was nothing at all.

Suguru has done what he could to mend the wounds for you, knowing good and well that if you are left to your own devices you would spiral past the point of return. And as renewing as this spring evening is, you know you will never be the same again.

But you can’t help but fixate on the way he makes you feel. And as hard as you try to push those feelings away, they continue to bubble up. What happens when it finally reaches its boiling point?

You’re only human. You have wants, needs, and desires…

…so who do you turn to for that release? Suguru, of course. Isn’t that what friends are for?

Some would say it’s an evil thing to do; to use someone for pleasure, your own personal gain. A part of you understands that, too. Sure, it may have started out that way, but it’s shifted. And that scares the shit out of you, how you find yourself searching for his validation, the sadness you feel when he leaves in the morning after a night full of fun. So why not tell yourself that you’re just doing what you need to do, rather than what you want to do. Ignoring the fact that deep down you really fucking love it.

It’s not like you’re taking advantage of him and the bond you share…not really, anyway. The two of you are very close, having known each other for ten years. Side by side, maneuvering through a decade of emotional ups and downs; personal dilemmas, weird family dynamics, terrible relationships, fluctuating hormones and unexpected cast changes within your friend group. But the two of you have always stayed consistent, the main characters. Your personalities mesh well, constantly riffing off one another. Never ending laughter and smiles. He's seen you at your absolute worst and vice versa. The true definition of unconditional love. So why not get a little more from him? After all this time, it feels warranted, well-deserved, even. Ignoring what you feel for him, it just makes sense that this is how it should go down. Plus, if it was such a bad idea, why would he agree?

You would accept her…

…in any way she chooses to present herself to you. After years of watching her hurt, you finally have your friend back, and there isn’t anything you wouldn't do to make her happy. Especially with guilt that you still feel, knowing there was nothing you could have done that would’ve saved her from her suffering. So when she suggests the idea of being friends with benefits, you’d be insane to deny her that. Is it a bad idea? Perhaps. You refuse her offer? She slips away, seeking refuge in the arms of another, someone who could hurt her…Never again.

You crave her so deeply that this arrangement seems perfect. Even though you dread the morning after, not wanting to leave her side…jumping on every opportunity to see her, showering her in praise every time you’re nestled deep within her warmth– the way her eyes light up at your word makes you melt. Is it possible she feels the same way? The more you think about it, the less crazy the idea seems. Would she leave you in the dust if you told her the truth? You don’t want to risk losing her. Not if you can help it. But you can’t confess your underlying intentions. Even though a deep part of you hopes for more, it doesn’t even matter at this point. Hide it. You get to be with her in a way that you never have before, and that’s enough for you…right?

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

It all transpired after one drunken night playing a confessional card game with your friend group. You were shit-faced and horny, and he wasn’t any better off. You’re honestly surprised his dick still worked that night, but god did it work. You didn’t expect it to go any further after that, assuming it was a one-off occasion. The two of you never really addressed what happened, either, didn’t take the time to have a real conversation about it. Just a quick “hey, do you wanna…” followed by an indifferent “yeah, why not?”, and that was that. Which is probably a good thing, because any more talking would have most likely resulted in your true feelings coming to the surface. But it happened, and is still happening, so who are you to complain? It’s perfect.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

Your friends and random on-lookers alike say you’re compatible, and yeah, they might be right, but fuck that. Why risk the friendship you cherish so deeply for a title? That's idiotic. It's borderline insanity. The minute you put a label on something it all comes crashing down. So, why ruin a good thing?

Don’t overthink it. It’s nothing serious, and it never will be. You refuse to open yourself up to somebody else, someone new. No more getting hurt. You’ve let Suguru into your life in a more meaningful way than you have for anyone else. And that’s far enough.

Does he know every little thing about you? Sure.

Does he care for your well-being? Yeah.

Is he attentive, thoughtful, and supportive? Of course…it is Suguru after all.

But so what? That's what friends are for.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

You and Suguru see each other frequently, at least three times a week, whether it’s just a normal hangout or…a hangout. You just get what you need and go; a good laugh, dinner and a movie, casual drinks, or a heaven-sent dick appointment. You both seem content, enjoying one another’s company and…bodies…and minds and souls.

Fuck.

It’s hard to ignore your totally natural, human need for deeper intimacy. But you try to, and damn do you try hard. It would probably be best for you to stop hooking up with Suguru and just go back to how things were.

You can’t go through this. Not again. You’ve already shifted the perfectly normal dynamic you once had into something deeper. Something…real. There’s no turning back now. So you continue to hide behind your ego, fighting off every demon known to man in hopes that this will all just go away.

You’ve been somewhat successful in suppressing your feelings, molding them into something more manageable. You are best friends, with the addition of benefits. Simple. Nothing more, nothing less. You pretend to be ignorant of Suguru's awe-inspiring beauty. How his energy is absolutely addicting, the way his lingering touch burns your skin so beautifully. He makes you feel seen for everything you are and appreciates you for everything you’re not. That sentiment alone propels you through the unexplored cosmos, crossing the line between reality and nirvana as starlight dances across your skin.

Not to mention, when you two are actually fucking? It's like two parts of the same soul finally meeting after centuries of arduous searching. You don’t know where your body stops and his begins, entangled in the most profound way.

God. You sound insane. This is no way to view a friend…your best friend, at that. Get it together.

What would you even call this? Touch starved? No, he touches you plenty…and in all the right places, too. Is it desperation? Your insatiable need for love? Karmic punishment for all your failed relationships? The corny trope where you end up falling for your best friend? As much as you want to fight against the feelings you have for him, it’s too late.

Whatever. Just play it off. You refuse to let your walls down. And you’d hate to give Suguru the satisfaction of being the one who commandeered heavy machinery and sent a wrecking ball toward your emotional fortress.

If you don’t acknowledge your feelings they’ll just cease to exist, right? Yeah, that’s how it works. And it’s a super healthy coping mechanism, too.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

All this deep pondering and emotional soul searching has got you worked up. You decide to see if Suguru wants to come over. Not because you miss him, or anything. It’ll be nothing more than a casual hook up. Dick only, no feelings.

You catch yourself giggling at his messages. Gross. You brush it off with a shake of your head, a violent wave of self awareness washing over you.

I'm not going through this again. I refuse.

You read the messages over and over. Do you seem desperate? Do your texts carry the perfect amount of indifference? Whatever. It doesn’t matter, it’s just Suguru, anyway. He's stuck around this long, it would take a lot to scare him off, now.

The plan’s in motion, and you’re going to have a good time tonight. You feel your heart rate spike at the thought of seeing him. That's a totally normal reaction for someone who has no feelings involved, right? Just friends…right?

Suguru chuckles as he reads your response. Excitement floods through his body in anticipation. Is it finally time to confess? His own eagerness catches him off-guard. He can’t. It’s too soon. He takes a few deep breaths to calm his nerves. Keep it together.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

It’s been so long since the feeling of joy has drifted between these barren walls. You take a swig of your drink, exhaling happily through your nose as the sweet juice dances with the sting of the liquor, warming your chest as you swallow. Leaning back on the couch with one leg kicked up on the coffee table, you absentmindedly swirl your glass as you gaze at Suguru.

“I’m really happy to see that you’re doin’ better,” he muses, taking a sip before setting his cup down. You offer him a small nod paired with a gentle smile, looking back at the drink nestled between your fingers; the ice that’s creating condensation on the outside, the way the sun seeps between the half-open curtains in your living room, the cooing of birds just beyond your window panes. Quite frankly, you’re trying your hardest to focus on anything but him. Ignoring the thrum of your heart every time you look into his eyes, pretending the smooth cadence of his voice doesn’t make your body tremble.

Say you do confess? What then? Is that really something you want, anyway? Or is it just nice to lust after someone? No, it’s not that. You really do love him. You haven’t even considered the possibility of him reciprocating these feelings, and odds are if he does, you’ll just run for the hills, not willing to open your heart up again. Your last relationship destroyed you. There’s no way you’ll allow someone to fill that void. Not with the possibility that it’ll all be a farce.

After a moment of silence, you finally speak up. “Me, too. And it’s all thanks to you, Sugu.” You finally meet his gaze, and it’s as if his eyes are attempting to pierce through you with how intently he’s looking at you. His expression quirks as if to ask what you mean. You decide to test the waters a bit. Fuck it.

“You…you’ve made me feel…whole again,” your words come out a bit choppy and drawn out, still battling with your decision to come clean. Your eyes dart around his face before looking away once more. You fiddle with your fingers, unsure of if you want to elaborate. Even if you stop here, it’s okay. That’s a totally normal thing to say to a friend who helped you in your time of need.

Your head snaps toward him at the sound of your name. More is said, but you focus on the way he addresses you. He says it so softly, so gently, like the very syllables of your title grace his tongue as they sway from in between his vocal cords. For four years, your name was used against you, weaponized with anger and hatred. But his words are relayed to you with nothing but love behind them.

Your ears are ringing as you stare at him blankly. You shake your head in hopes to clear the thoughts that are clouding it. “Wait…wha? What did you just say? The last part?”

“I said, it’s because I love you,” he smiles as he watches your face flush. Time slows as your heart rate speeds up. You brows furrow a bit, trying to piece together what the hell is going on. A million thoughts spin through your head as you stare at him. “You…love…me? Like, in a ‘best friends’ kinda way, right?” You’re shocked as he shakes his head. “No. I love you, and I have for a while. In a more than friends kinda way,” he laughs a bit before leaning forward, reaching for your hand. “You love me, too. Don’t you?”

“I-” your words get caught in your throat as his fingers rub against the back of your hand. As calm and collected as Suguru seems on the outside, he is spiraling on the inside. He isn’t sure where this newfound confidence is coming from, but he decides to roll with it. His heart thrums in his chest as he anxiously awaits your response. He has reached his tipping point, wanting nothing more than to finally be able to call you his.

You look down, staring at the place where the two of you meet, the feeling of electricity coursing through your body. A chill runs down your spine before you look back at him. “I-I do. I love you.”

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

You’re laying on your back, your hair fanned out across the bed. Your arms are wrapped tight around his neck as he gently thrusts into you with slow, deep ruts of his hips. His head is tucked into the crook of your neck, his warm breath brushing across your sensitive skin.

He leans back, looking down at you with a sweet smile, “You are so beautiful.” His eyes run up and down your body, taking in every dip and curve of your figure, before fixating on where the two of you meet. His lips part as he watches himself disappear inside of you, a deep moan breaking through his chest at the sight of your sweet juices coating his length. He rubs intricate circles into your clit, loving the way you sound as your body writhes under his touch.

Tears begin to pool behind your eyes as you gaze up at him, entranced by the way he manages to stimulate every sense in your body. This is what love truly feels like, bestowed upon you by a man who wants nothing more than to fulfill every facet of your life.

He presses his forehead against yours as he continues to pump into you, his movements influenced by nothing more than pure adoration.

The sun bounces off your features, illuminating your face in such an ethereal way. His breath catches in his throat as he watches the way the light makes your eyes glow. You are angelic in every sense of the word. Someone too pure for this realm, unfathomably delicate; sent to this world to be worshiped and protected.

“I love you. So much,” he groans. Every ounce of devotion he has for you is being pumped into your body with every plunge. It’s overwhelming for him. He's nearly bursting at the seams as he makes love to you, moving his hips so tantalizingly slow, but wanting to thrust into you with fervor, to pound the message into you that you are deserving of all love in the world, and that he will be the one to give it to you. But he takes his time, wanting nothing more than to savor you.

Small whimpers break through your throat. “I…ahh!– I love you, S-Suguru,” you moan, whining as his head brushes into your sweet spot, making your back arch off the bed as your chest presses into his. The pleasure raking through you is immeasurable, every neuron in your brain firing off at once. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, desperate to feel every single part of him.

He cups the sides of your cheeks, brushing away your tears before placing two soft kisses over each eye. “Why’re you cryin’, my love?” he coos, concern evident on his face as he rubs his thumbs against your face. His hips pause as his eyes dart between yours.

“Just…’m just so happy,” you whisper, scrunching your nose up with a small sniffle before placing a kiss on his lips. He smiles deeply before returning to his original pace.

“You deserve it...just wanna make you feel good, baby,” his hips press him into the deepest parts of you, rubbing against your sweet, gushing walls, but his pace remains deliberate. “You deserve all the pleasure in the world,” his teeth grit ever so slightly as he feels you clench down on him. “F-fuck, baby… fuck. You are just... incredible,” he groans, angling his hips to keep brushing against your g spot.

Even though you’ve had each other many times before, no other instance compares to the way you feel right now. Your body brimming with love, fulfillment…with him. His touch makes you feel reborn, like no one has ever hurt you before. His hands glide across your skin, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake, his unyielding passion evident in the way he clings to you, and you to him.

“Sugu…” you gasp as he bottoms out once more. Short pants leave your lips as you feel the tightness in your stomach intensify. “P-please, keep goin’...I’m…gonna cum,” you mewl. His hands reach underneath your body, palming each asscheek as he lifts your lower half off the bed. The new angle makes your eyes roll as stars begin to dance around your head. “Me too…y’feel so fuckin’ good.” The fiction of his pelvis against your clit shoots ripples of pleasure through you. Your nails drag down his back in an attempt to ground yourself, but to no avail. This feels otherworldly. His pace picks up a bit, pushing you to unravel, your body succumbing to bliss. The warmth that engulfs his lengths makes him reach his peak right after you, his hips stuttering as he works you both through your orgasms.

He props himself up on his forearms, making a conscious effort to not collapse on you and crush you with his body weight, though you would most definitely welcome it. He watches as your chest rises and falls, every soft pant that leaves your lips like music to his yearning ears. He can’t bring himself to pull out, loving the way your walls are still spasming around him. You stare into his eyes for a moment, running your fingers down his spine. A gentle moment of silence settles between to two of you. No words are spoken, but they don't need to be.

He begins to get up, but your legs lock around his waist immediately, resheathing him inside of you. “Baby–”, he begins to object, but your arms wrap around his shoulders once more, pulling him down as you kiss the spot below his ear, “Jus’ a few more minutes. Love having you like this.”

A deep chuckle rumbles from his chest as he smiles into the crook of your neck. “You keep this up and we might just have to go again.”

And you do. For hours and hours, attempting to make up for all the years wasted. Your two souls engaging in the most mesmerizing dance. He is determined to replace all the heartache you feel with pleasure. And he does. You feel nothing but him. And he can’t focus on anything other than you. Rolling around together until the golden hue of the setting sun shifts into a light pink as it rises above the horizon. But it feels like no time has passed at all.

Suguru draws soft circles into your skin, holding you tight against his sweat-glistened chest. Your body trembles from the copious amount of pleasure coursing through you. A gentle peck is placed on the top of your head before he looks toward the ceiling. A sense of contentment washes over him, dancing with the soft pulse of his many orgasms still reverberating through his body. After years of waiting, you are finally his, and he is determined to grant you your well-deserved peace.

Dawning a robe, you sit on your balcony, listening to the birds sing you their habitual 'good morning'. The door slides open behind you, and Suguru takes a seat, presenting you with a cup of tea. A quiet thank you leaves your lips as the two of you take in the scenery before you.

“We should probably get some sleep now, huh?” You ask, turning to him as you take a sip, smiling at the fact that he knows exactly how you take your tea. But, of course he does. It’s Suguru.

He grins, “No…I don’t want to leave this moment behind just yet.” You blush, reaching your hand out to grasp his.

“Me neither.”

In his eyes, you are precious, the most important person in his life. The deep-rooted fear of not being worthy of love is disproven in the form of Suguru’s undying loyalty to you. He has waited years to be with you, and he would have waited years more. And as the two of you sit together, with your fingers intertwined and heartbeats in sync, you know there is nowhere else you want to be…no one else you want to be with. An unfamiliar feeling of safety creeps into your chest. You’re in good hands now.

Maybe opening yourself back up to love wasn’t such a bad idea, after all.

author notes: this fic is incredibly self-serving...but i really needed this. i just want a pretty boy named suguru to save me from the heartache i feel rn ugh

my reqs are closed at the moment, but thirsts and chats are always welcome !!

alsoooo !! i just wanted to send out a big big thank you for 700 followers...im literally in shock i cannot believe it. im spinning around my room rn just thinking abt it. yall are amazing n i appreciate every single one of you 🫶🏼

tag list: @anxious-chick @call-memissbrightside @the-weeb-of-the-uchiha @sadmonke

likes, reblogs, and comments are always greatly appreciated !!

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chrisevansonly · 1 year ago

Text

𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨’𝐬 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥? | 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐬

✯social media au

✯lando norris x female reader

✯you love your bf, so much so that everyone knows you as lando’s girl or are you….

✯not requested, i wanted to get something out today though, im not really feeling like myself and really struggling w my mental health again, so bare with me while i try and get things going again, i’m sorry i’m advance<3

y/ninstagram

liked by landonorris, vogue, alexandrasaintmleux and 674,000 others

lando won’t pick up my call so i did a photoshoot instead 😁

see 65,000 comments

username she is everything to me

username y/n looking stunning as USUAL

alexandrasaintmleux the most beautiful😍

>y/ninstagram can’t wait to see you this weekend gorgeous ❤️

landonorris I LITERALLY ANSWERED WDYM😭

landonorris i’ll stop answering more calls so i get new pics of you though 🤤

>y/ninstagram pls don’t i miss you too much🥹

liked by landonorris

danielricciardo he literally paused our game to answer your call, i hope you’re happy

>y/ninstagram oh extremely 😁

username how norizz bagged her? i’ll never understand

landonorris

liked by maxfewtrell, y/ninstagram, wagsoff1 and 789,000 others

fyi i did answer her call and now we’re out on our weekly date, stop harassing me on twitter 😑

tagged y/ninstagram

see 78,000 comments

username 💀💀💀

username his ass got blasted on twt it was so funny

y/ninstagram i love you lan!!!!! 🥰

y/ninstagram not sorry for my loyal fans holding you accountable 😁

>landonorris you’re so lucky i love you 😃😃

username HAHAHAHA

maxfewtrell way to girlboss y/n

>y/ninstagram why thank you max 😌

username please these comments r gonna get wild😭

y/ninstagram

liked by mclaren, landonorris, lilyhme and 876,000 others

it’s dutch gp weekend and i’m just here to wish my very animated and emotional boyfriend good luck. i love that i never know what version of you i’m getting going into a new day, can’t decide which is my favourite but grumpy lando (slide 1) and romeo lando (slide 2) might just be the top 2 favourites, good luck baby!😘

tagged landonorris

see 89,000 comments

username WHY IS THIS SENDING ME

username romeo lando😭

username lando cannot catch a break

landonorris hmm don’t know how i feel abt this caption…

landonorris i love you though, thank u for being my good luck charm🩷

>y/ninstagram i love you more!!!

maxfewtrell personally i like lando when he has 0 going on in his brain 😁

>danielricciardo so 24/7 lando?

>landonorris OKAY THATS ENOUGH

y/ninstagram added to their story!

*comments disabled*

landonorris added to their story!

*comments disabled*

y/ninstagram

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, landonorris, charles_leclerc and 997,000 others

when our boys are away, the girls come out to play ❤️‍🔥

tagged alexandrasaintmleux

see 101,000 comments

username okay but these two together?!

username charles and lando better keep one eye open

charles_leclerc okay but can you come back now? i’d like to hang out with my gf :)

>alexandrasaintmleux we are a packaged deal char

>landonorris hmm i don’t think so

>y/ninstagram yes we are😁

username QUEENS

alexandrasaintmleux my girl😘

>y/ninstagram 🩷🩷

username idk if i wanna be y/n, alex, charles or lando😵‍💫

y/ninstagram added to their story!

*comments disabled*

landonorris

liked by y/ninstagram, danielricciardo, quadrant and 889,000 others

just so we’re clear, she’s mine😁

tagged y/ninstagram

see 99,000 comments

username lmfao lando doesn’t wanna share w alexandra🤣

username pls we all know she’s yours 💀

alexandrasaintmleux i feel like i’m being attacked???

>y/ninstagram i wouldn’t let that happen baby🫡

danielricciardo TRUST ME MATE WE KNOW

>landonorris good, don’t get it twisted 😁

y/ninstagram i’m all yours baby 😘

>y/ninstagram except when alex calls🥰

>landonorris EXCUSE ME!!!!

username so lando’s girl or alex’s girl….?🤔

y/ninstagram

liked by landonorris, cosmopolitan, wagsoff1 and 1M others

lando’s girl.❤️

tagged landonorris

see 104,000 comments

username oh i’m crying now

username HOT TAMALE

username my favs

landonorris my girl❤️❤️❤️

>y/ninstagram forever and always baby🥰

alexandrasaintmleux it’s okay, i know who’s girl you are behind closed doors

>y/ninstagram 😉😉😉

>charles_leclerc 😦

>landonorris😧

username HAHAHAH CHARLES AND LANDO😭

mclaren ahh now this is the entertainment we asked for🤣

liked by landonorris and y/ninstagram

alexandrasaintmleux added to their story!

landonorris THIS ISNT OVER!!!

>alexandrasaintmleux YES IT IS!

charles_leclerc mon dieu

>alexandrasaintmleux je t’aime tellement charlie😘

y/ninstagram love you baby!!!❤️‍🔥

>alexandrasaintmleux love you more babe❤️‍🔥

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cherrielatte · 3 months ago

Text

POV: You're Sora

This is a WIP I've been working on for the past few...idk weeks? I decided to practice working on CSP and I figured what better way than to try an animation. Especially, since it requires multiple passes over my same work over and over. This is no where near the end of the intended loop. I want it to go on - and show a wave of emotion evolve from fondness, jealousy, anguish, anger, to coldness & distance. In the POV of Sora kinda recollecting Riku's emotional evolution that (he feels) he neglected till now. And to no one's surprise, this was all inspired by music. Pls listen to this song and imagine the melodrama with me. Whenever I hear this song I always wanted to do something soriku with it.

( the song ) - The Nutcracker, Op. 71, Act II: No. 14a, Pas de deux. Andante maestoso.

I hope to finish this eventually. Im revising it little by little as I go. But im not used to working with a screenless tablet and im also relatively new to animation, so please excuse my slow work.

Unrelated, but related, I once had an art teacher tell me I was too ambitious. At the time, I told her "oh, thank you!" not realizing until idk 300 years later that she was trying to temper me back to reality. lmao. Well, I kinda get it now.

#soriku #kingdom hearts #riku #lattes'art #lattes'vids

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kicxvu · 5 months ago

Text

NOT ALLOWED ! izumi miyamura x reader

summary : bumping into the boyfriend of a really really jealous girlfriend would make your life hell

warnings : bullying, emotional distress, loneliness, confrontation, negative self-perception, crying/tears, conflict, physical anger.

word count : 3.4k

a/n : first fanfic of my bby ! luv him, and sorry it’s quite hate on Hori… if you don’t like it leave kindly pls !!

-> pt1 -> pt2 -> pt3

The final minutes of lunch break ticked away as you made your way back to the classroom. Your stomach felt hollow, not just from lack of food, but from the emotional toll of the day. The bento box in your bag was now empty, its contents disposed of in a moment of quiet desperation.

As you approached the classroom door, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the inevitable discomfort of returning to a room full of people who either ignored or misunderstood you. But nothing could have prepared you for the sight that greeted you as you stepped inside.

There, perched on your desk as if it were a casual meeting spot, sat Hori and two of her friends. Their laughter rang out, echoing in your ears like a taunt. Your eyes widened as you noticed their careless postures, their bodies sprawled across your carefully organized notebooks and textbooks.

For a moment, rage flared within you, hot and bright. Your father's voice echoed in your mind, reminding you of the self-defense moves he'd taught you "just in case." Your hands clenched into fists at your sides, fingernails digging into your palms.

But you caught yourself, forcing a slow, deep breath. 'No,' you thought. 'That's not who I am. That's not who I want to be.'

With deliberate calm, you approached your desk. The girls' chatter died down as they noticed your approach, but they made no move to vacate your space.

"Excuse me," you said, your voice quiet but firm. "I need to get to my desk."

Hori looked at you, a flicker of recognition crossing her face. "Oh, it's you," she said, her tone dismissive. "We're kind of in the middle of something here."

You felt your jaw clench, but you maintained your composure. "Please," you said, "my things are there. I need to prepare for class."

Reluctantly, the girls slid off your desk, moving aside with exaggerated sighs. You approached, your eyes taking in the disarray of your usually neat workspace. Pencils rolled to the floor as you set your bag down, and you noticed with a sinking heart that the corner of your math notebook was bent, the pages crumpled.

With quick, efficient movements, you began to straighten your belongings. Your hands trembled slightly as you smoothed out the creased pages, a lump forming in your throat.

As you worked, you were unaware of the pair of eyes watching you intently from across the room.

Miyamura sat at his desk, his gaze fixed on your every movement. He noted the tension in your shoulders, the careful control in your actions that spoke of suppressed emotion.

'She's upset,' he thought, watching as you meticulously reorganized your desk. 'But she's trying so hard not to show it.'

He observed the way you gently caressed the bent corner of your notebook, as if apologizing to it. The care you took with your possessions struck a chord with him, reminding him of how he treasured the few things that were truly his own.

Your movements became more agitated as you searched through your bag, eventually pulling out the now empty bento box. Miyamura's brow furrowed as he watched you tuck it away with sharp, angry motions.

'She didn't eat,' he realized with a pang of concern. He remembered seeing you sitting alone during lunch, but he'd assumed… what? That you preferred solitude? That you were okay?

As the final bell rang and other students began filing back to their seats, Miyamura found his gaze still drawn to you. He watched as you took a deep, steadying breath, squaring your shoulders as if preparing for battle.

In that moment, Miyamura felt a strong urge to reach out, to say something, anything that might ease the obvious pain you were trying so hard to hide. But before he could act on the impulse, the teacher entered, calling the class to order.

As you sat down, your eyes briefly met Miyamura's. Then you looked away, your face resuming its carefully neutral expression.

Miyamura turned to face the front of the class, but his mind remained on you. He couldn't shake the feeling that something significant had just happened, though he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was.

As the lesson began, the classroom settled into its usual rhythm. But for Miyamura, and unknown to him, for you as well, something had shifted. The air seemed charged with unspoken words and unrealized possibilities.

The final bell of the day rang, signaling the end of classes. You gathered your belongings slowly, watching as your classmates rushed out, eager to start their after-school activities or head home. You took your time, preferring to leave once the hallways had cleared a bit.

As you made your way through the now-quiet corridors, your mind wandered, replaying the events of the day. The confrontation with Hori, the loneliness of lunch, the frustration of finding your desk occupied - it all swirled in your thoughts, leaving you feeling drained and hollow.

You were so lost in your musings that you almost missed the voices coming from a classroom you were passing. The door was slightly ajar, and as you approached, snippets of conversation drifted out.

"Did you see that weird girl today? The one who bumped into Miyamura?"

Your steps faltered as you recognized your own description. Against your better judgment, you paused, listening.

"Oh yeah, what a freak. Who does she think she is?"

"I know, right? Always so quiet and creepy. No wonder she doesn't have any friends."

"Bet she did it on purpose just to touch Miyamura. As if he'd ever look twice at someone like her!"

The words hit you like physical blows, each one cutting deeper than the last. You stood there, frozen, as tears welled up in your eyes and began to silently roll down your cheeks. Your expression remained oddly blank, shock overriding your ability to react outwardly to the pain you felt inside.

You were about to hear more when suddenly, everything went muffled. Warm hands gently covered your ears, blocking out the cruel words. Startled, you gasped and jumped slightly, turning around quickly to face whoever had approached you so silently.

Your eyes widened as you found yourself face to face with Izumi Miyamura. He stood there, hands still raised from where they had been covering your ears, a look of surprise and concern etched across his features. His eyes locked onto yours, and then widened as he noticed the tears streaking your cheeks.

"I… I'm sorry," he said softly, lowering his hands. "I didn't mean to startle you. I just… I didn't want you to hear that."

You stared at him, unable to form words. Your mind raced, trying to process this unexpected turn of events. Why was he here? Why did he care?

Miyamura shifted uncomfortably under your gaze, clearly unsure of what to do next. He glanced at the classroom door, then back at you, his expression a mix of anger and sympathy.

"Those girls… they don't know what they're talking about," he said, his voice low but firm. "You shouldn't listen to people like that."

You blinked, more tears escaping as you did. You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out. Instead, a small, choked sob escaped your lips.

Miyamura's face softened. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, offering it to you hesitantly. "Here," he said. "Um… do you want to go somewhere and talk? Or… or I could walk you home if you'd prefer?"

You stood there, frozen in indecision, the handkerchief clutched in your trembling hand. Miyamura waited patiently, his presence a stark contrast to the loneliness you'd felt all day.

In that moment, standing in the quiet hallway with Miyamura, you felt something shift. It was small, barely perceptible, but it was there - a tiny spark of hope in the darkness that had surrounded you for so long.

You looked at the handkerchief in your hand, then back at Miyamura. His kind gesture had caught you off guard, leaving you feeling both grateful and uncomfortable. You took a shaky breath, trying to regain your composure.

"Thank you," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. You dabbed at your eyes with the handkerchief, the soft fabric absorbing your tears. "But… where's Hori? Shouldn't you be with her?"

Miyamura's expression shifted, a mix of surprise and something else - was it sadness? - crossing his features. "Hori had a student council meeting," he explained. "I was just heading home when I…" He trailed off, gesturing vaguely towards the classroom where the girls were still talking.

You nodded, understanding. A moment of silence stretched between you, filled with unspoken words and uncertainties.

Finally, you mustered up the courage to speak again. "That's very kind of you, Miyamura-kun, but I… I should go home." You held out the handkerchief, intending to return it.

Miyamura's brow furrowed. "Are you sure? I really don't mind walking with you. After what those girls said…"

You shook your head, cutting him off gently. "No, it's okay. Really. I wouldn't want you to be seen with someone like me. And if Hori saw us…" You let the implication hang in the air, remembering the morning's confrontation all too vividly.

Miyamura fell silent, his eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made you want to look away. But there was something in his gaze that held you there - a deep understanding that you couldn't quite fathom.

In his mind, Miyamura was transported back to his own past. Your words echoed his own thoughts from not so long ago: "Don't be seen with someone like me." "You shouldn't hang out with me." He remembered the fear of dragging others down, of being a burden. The pain of isolation and the belief that he wasn't worthy of friendship or kindness.

As he looked at you, Miyamura saw a reflection of his former self - the quiet, withdrawn person he used to be, always trying to fade into the background. He felt a strong urge to reach out, to tell you that you were wrong, that you were worth so much more than you believed. But the words stuck in his throat, held back by the memory of how hard it had been for him to accept such truths about himself.

Instead, he took a deep breath, his gaze softening. "I understand," he said quietly, the weight of unspoken experiences heavy in his voice. "But… are you sure you don't want company on your way home? Just… just as far as you're comfortable with?"

He didn't reach out, didn't push, but something in his stance conveyed an openness, an offer of companionship without pressure or judgment.

You stood there, caught off guard by the unexpected kindness in Miyamura's eyes. Part of you wanted to retreat, to stick to the familiar safety of solitude. But another part, a part that had been quiet for so long, whispered that maybe this was a chance worth taking.

As you looked at Miyamura, you found yourself at a crossroads. Whatever choice you made next would change things, for better or worse. The question was, were you brave enough to find out which?

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. "Okay," you said softly, your voice barely audible. "Maybe just… just to the school gate?"

A small smile touched Miyamura's lips, a mix of relief and something warmer. "Sure," he nodded. "To the school gate."

As you both were about to take a step, a loud voice suddenly echoed through the corridor.

"Miyamura!"

You froze, recognizing Hori's voice immediately. Your heart rate spiked, panic setting in as you heard quick footsteps approaching from behind.

Miyamura tensed beside you, his eyes widening slightly as he glanced over his shoulder. He turned back to you, conflict clear in his expression.

"I…" he started, but you were already shaking your head.

"It's okay," you whispered, taking a small step back. "You should go."

Miyamura opened his mouth as if to protest, but Hori's voice called out again, closer this time.

"Miyamura, there you are! Who were you talking to?"

You could hear the curiosity and slight edge in her tone. Without waiting for Miyamura's response, you turned and began to walk away, your steps measured and deliberate despite the urge to run.

"Oh, no one," you heard Miyamura say behind you, his voice casual but with an undercurrent of something you couldn't quite identify. "Just thought I saw someone I knew, but I was mistaken."

You felt a pang in your chest at his words. 'No one.' That's what you were, weren't you? No one of consequence, no one worth mentioning. Even though you knew Miyamura was trying to protect you, the words still stung.

As you rounded the corner, you heard Hori's skeptical reply fading behind you. "Really? I could've sworn I saw you talking to someone."

You didn't stay to hear Miyamura's response. Instead, you continued walking, your pace quickening slightly as you made your way down the stairs and out of the school building.

The cool afternoon air hit your face as you stepped outside, a stark contrast to the warmth that had briefly blossomed inside you during your conversation with Miyamura. You clutched your bag tighter, realizing you still held his handkerchief in your hand.

As you approached the school gate, you paused, looking down at the small piece of fabric. It was a tangible reminder of the brief moment of kindness in an otherwise difficult day. Part of you wanted to run back and return it, to see if that spark of connection could be rekindled. But the memory of Hori's voice, the fear of another confrontation, held you back.

With a deep sigh, you tucked the handkerchief into your pocket and pushed yourself through the gate, starting your solitary walk home. The weight of the day's events pressed down on you, but somewhere, buried deep beneath the hurt and loneliness, was a tiny spark. A spark of something that felt dangerously like hope.

As you walked away from the school, you couldn't help but wonder what might have been if Hori hadn't appeared. Would you and Miyamura have talked more? Would you have found a friend in him? Or was it all just a fleeting moment of kindness, never meant to last?

These thoughts swirled in your mind as you made your way home, the school and Miyamura fading into the distance behind you.

The walk to Hori's house was filled with her cheerful chatter, but Miyamura found his mind wandering. He nodded and hummed in response at appropriate intervals, but his thoughts kept drifting back to the girl he'd encountered in the hallway - her tear-stained face, her quiet resignation, the way she'd walked away without looking back.

As they entered the Hori household, the familiar routine began. They called out their arrival, slipped off their shoes, and made their way to Hori's room. The house was quiet; Hori's younger brother was still at his after-school activities, and her parents were at work.

"Make yourself comfortable," Hori said, gesturing to her bed as she set her bag down. "I'll go grab us some snacks."

Miyamura nodded, settling onto the edge of the bed. He looked around the room, taking in the familiar posters, the neatly arranged desk, the photos of Hori with her friends. Everything was as it always was, and yet…

Hori returned with a plate of cookies and two glasses of iced tea. "Here we go," she said brightly, setting them down on the small table. "So, what should we do? Study? Watch a movie?"

Miyamura shrugged, forcing a small smile. "Whatever you'd like," he replied.

Hori tilted her head, studying him. "Is everything okay? You've been quiet since we left school."

For a moment, Miyamura considered telling her about the girl, about the cruel words he'd overheard, about the way it had stirred up memories of his own past. But something held him back. Instead, he shook his head. "Just tired, I guess. It's been a long day."

Hori nodded sympathetically. "I know what you mean. That student council meeting dragged on forever." She launched into a detailed account of the meeting, peppered with complaints about certain members and jokes about others.

As she spoke, Miyamura found himself watching her, really looking at her. He took in her animated expressions, the way her hands moved as she talked, the passion in her voice as she described her ideas for upcoming school events. She was beautiful, vibrant, full of life. Everything he'd always admired about her.

And yet, for the first time, he felt a disconnect. A small voice in the back of his mind whispered, 'Would she understand? If I told her about the girl, about my past, would she really get it?'

The thought startled him. Of course, Hori knew about his past, about the bullying and the loneliness. But did she truly understand? The memory of her angry outburst that morning, the way she'd pushed the girl, flashed through his mind.

"Miyamura? Are you listening?" Hori's voice cut through his thoughts.

He blinked, realizing he'd completely lost track of what she was saying. "Sorry," he mumbled. "What were you saying?"

Hori sighed, a hint of frustration in her voice. "I was asking if you wanted to help with the cultural festival planning. The committee could use some extra hands."

"Oh," Miyamura said, trying to refocus. "Sure, I guess. If you think I'd be helpful."

Hori beamed at him, leaning in to plant a quick kiss on his cheek. "Great! You're the best, Miyamura."

As she pulled away, Miyamura felt a twinge in his chest. It wasn't the usual flutter of happiness he associated with Hori's affection. Instead, it felt almost… hollow.

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur of homework, idle chat, and shared snacks. But through it all, Miyamura couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted. His responses felt mechanical, his smiles a bit forced. And all the while, his mind kept drifting back to the quiet girl in the hallway, wondering if she'd made it home okay, if she was as alone as she seemed.

As the sun began to set, Miyamura gathered his things to leave. Hori walked him to the door, wrapping him in a tight hug before he left.

"See you tomorrow," she said, smiling up at him.

"Yeah," he replied, managing a small smile in return. "See you tomorrow."

As he walked home in the fading light, Miyamura found himself grappling with unfamiliar emotions. The warmth and comfort he usually felt after spending time with Hori was muted, overshadowed by a growing sense of unease. For the first time since they'd started dating, he wondered if there was a part of himself - a part of his past - that Hori could never truly understand.

And with that thought came another, more troubling one: was the love he thought he felt for Hori as deep and unconditional as he'd believed? Or was it possible that, like the fading sunlight, it too was beginning to dim?

now you suck

taglist :

@ilovecandys2010 @zhvakinnn

#໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა‎ coraa just finished !#horimiya x reader #horimiya fanfic #horimiya #izumi miyamura fanfic #izumi miyamura x reader #miyamura x reader #miyamura izumi #izumi miyamura #hori san to miyamura kun

289 notes · View notes

spookyserenades · 9 months ago

Text

Trouvaille - Chapter Fifteen (M)

Pairing(s); BTS OT7 x Reader

Genre/Themes; Hybrid!AU, themes of the supernatural and the occult, religious themes, violence, hurt/comfort, horror, romance

Rated; 18+ for swearing, violence/gore, future sexual themes. Reader discretion is advised.

Word Count; 21.3k

Trouvaille Masterlist

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Updates on the 7th of each month

HI HI HI! Thank you all for your patience for this update while I was recovering from my cold! I'm excited to share this chapter, it's jam-packed with emotion, some uncomfortable confrontation, fluff, and of course, some more depraved smut LOL. I hope you enjoy this chapter, and thank you again for everyone wishing me a speedy recovery and your unwavering support. (also pls excuse any typos fdskafdjf) Love from Dana 💜

As an additional warning/reminder, for the smut: the scene is explicit, and is only intended to be read by those over the age of 18. Please practice safe sex, and readers please have discretion!

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

“I know you’re mad at me, but you know why I had to break that up, right?” Yoongi watched Y/N though slitted eyes as she poured a rather large glass of white wine for herself, scoffing.

Ignoring him, she took a swig of the chilled wine and turned on her heels, returning to the stove to stir the onion she was in the middle of sauteing. Even she could feel her irritation and anger coming off of herself in vicious waves, perhaps stirring the thyme into her mixture of onion, celery, and carrot with too much aggression.

“Y/N, come on. The silent treatment is really childish,” Yoongi’s deep voice had an edge of grit to it, Y/N snorting humorlessly.

The sounds of the leopard hybrid storming over to her side filled her ringing ears, and when he gently grasped her wrist to pry the wooden spoon from her grip, she spun around to face him, gritting her teeth when he turned off the stove.

“Childish? That’s rich,” Y/N eyed the way Yoongi’s spotted tail was flicking back and forth in agitation, hating having to argue with him at all. “You can’t just prevent me from talking to the others, Yoongi.”

A muscle pulsing in his jaw, Yoongi took a deep breath while pushing his hair out of his face, taking a better hold of Y/N’s hand and squeezing it once.

“I get why that’s how you probably see it, but that’s not what that was,” Yoongi replied evenly, appearing to exercise his unending patience.

“Okay, then explain! You know I’ve been trying to talk to Tae for days! Now he’ll probably never want to open up again,” Y/N had hysteria welling up in her, unable to decide if she was jealous of the way Yoongi always seemed to be so calm and collected.

“Yes, I know, sweetheart,” Yoongi’s jaw tensed again, thumb brushing over her wrist bone. “But not like that. He’s never been that drunk, at least since we’ve known him. I was trying to prevent him from doing something he might regret once sobering up.”

Y/N blinked, reading the sincerity on his face, her shoulders relaxing down a couple of inches.

“You know, the kid’s kind of grown on me in the last few months. I know that he’d be humiliated if things escalated further, that’s why I intervened. Besides, I didn’t want him to put you in a tight spot. I’m aware of how much you care about him,” Yoongi continued, the pinch between his brows loosening up when Y/N seemed to cool off.

“Sorry…” Y/N murmured, suddenly embarrassed that she was so quick to lose her temper on Yoongi.

“Nothing to apologize for. Just don’t clam up on me like that, and we’ll be good,” Yoongi softened, lifting her hand to his mouth to place a kiss on the back of it. “Let him sober up, sleep it off. Talk to him in the morning.”

Cheeks burning, she nodded, Yoongi letting go of her and swiping her wine glass, taking a sip with a purr. He took up the task of stirring the base ingredients of the tortellini soup Y/N was making for dinner, Y/N sighing and leaning up to stamp a kiss on his jaw, his still-damp hair tickling the tip of her nose.

“You’re right. I wouldn’t have wanted things to escalate like that… thank you, my angel,” Y/N hummed, reaching up to give one of his ears a scratch, his posture stiffening then dissolving into shivers as her fingers stroked through the short fur.

“You’re gonna take advantage of that weakness all the time from now on, aren’t you,” Yoongi’s voice was feathery, Y/N chuckling and mercifully releasing his ear. “Chop up that fennel, we’ll add it to the soup to bulk it up.”

Stealing her wineglass back, Y/N did just that, glad that her and Yoongi didn’t have to have an explosive argument over jealousy. However, as her knife sliced down into the bulb of fennel, her thoughts turned to Taehyung– reeking of booze, cornering her to a wall, unfamiliar flames in his eyes. She knew that the next morning, Taehyung would probably be avoidant and perhaps even embarrassed, and pinning him down to talk to him would be no easy feat. She had no doubt that the Kodiak hybrid wouldn’t be present for dinner, which heightened her concern– all that booze and no food didn’t add up to a hangover-less morning.

“I’ll bring him up some of this later, in a thermos. Don’t worry,” Yoongi once again read her mind, Y/N using the flat of her knife to slide the sliced fennel into the Dutch oven the leopard hybrid was standing over. “He’s definitely passed out, at the moment.”

Nodding, she gave Yoongi a pat on the back, getting to work on prepping some of the other ingredients for dinner. The silence was amicable, comfortable, so the sound of the slider door scraping open had her squeaking in surprise, nearly dropping the loaf of garlic bread she was putting into the oven.

“If you don’t get out of my face, fox, I’m going to take my Zippo to your running sneakers,” Jeongguk’s gruff voice bounced off the walls of the kitchen, brushing snowflakes off of the shoulders of his leather jacket.

“What? I just asked if you had feeling in your antlers,” Hoseok defended himself, a thin sheen of sweat coating his skin as he returned from his evening run. “You don’t have to be so accusatory all the time.”

Y/N stifled a laugh, looking over her shoulder to take a better glance at the spectacle, Jeongguk scoffing sharply as he hung his jacket on the coat rack by the door. Apparently, it had begun to snow outside, both his and Hoseok’s hair dusted with powdery clumps of it.

“And you don’t have to be such a nosy, irritating son of a bitch all the time, but sometimes we’re just created a certain way,” Jeongguk replied, Hoseok frowning as he caught a bottle of water Yoongi was tossing his way.

“Forget it, I’ll just Google it later,” Hoseok muttered, collapsing heavily into the breakfast nook, his ears drooping. “Cold as shit outside, by the way. Y/N, you’re sure we can’t move to Florida?”

“What’s with you and Florida, Foxy? Got a secret past there or something?” Yoongi inquired, wiping his hands on a dishtowel after bringing the soup to a simmer.

“Not particularly. It’s just warm and pretty there all the time. Didn’t you mention February can be even colder than January up here, Y/N?” Hoseok expertly dodged Yoongi’s line of questioning, redirecting his attention to Y/N.

“Sometimes. Judging by all the snow we’ve been getting lately, it’s looking that way,” Y/N admitted, still put off by the idea of living through Floridian summers. “I guess I’ll have to look into booking a trip to Disney a bit more seriously.”

“Ugh,” Jeongguk was disgusted, usually the one to turn his nose up at a Disney movie Seokjin or Hoseok would put on during movie night. “At least they sling excessive booze there, so I’ve heard.”

“Yeah, we can drink around the world in EPCOT,” Y/N put a finger to her lips, trying to calculate how much park tickets, souvenirs, a villa, and transport would run her– she shuddered at the figure she came up with roughly. To boot, the three hybrids in the room stared at her blankly, like she started spontaneously speaking French. “It’s a park in the resort. You know what, I’ll tell you all about it if I can scrape up the funds for a trip in the fall or whatever.”

The slider was pulled open again, this time bringing Jimin and Namjoon in from the cold, Jimin with only sock-clad feet, his muddied boots stowed beneath a covered section of the patio to prevent tracking mess into the house. Namjoon had a stack of thick books tucked under one of his arms, his denim-sherpa jacket damp with snow, nodding once at Y/N before heading off in the direction of his bedroom, likely to deposit the materials. Ever since she gave the wolf hybrid the information about their upcoming consultation, he had been burning the midnight oil tearing through all of the books he had in order to prepare himself.

“Hey, Jimin, how are the babies?” Y/N inquired about the animals, tuning out Jeongguk and Hoseok still bickering about his antlers, and whether or not they had feeling in them– secretly, Y/N was curious, too. “Oh shit– are you bleeding?”

Y/N dropped the knife she was using to shave parmesan slices for the soup with alarm, eyes bugging out of her head noticing the blood on his wrist. She flew over to him at lightning speed, hands outstretched to examine the damage. Jimin exhaled slowly, handing over his forearm, Y/N’s face settling into a deep frown.

“I’m alright, now, Y/N. It was just Bandit up to his old tricks when I went to give the chickens their supper,” Jimin’s voice had amusement coloring it, a half-smile on his face when Y/N dragged him to the island to dab a paper towel over the minor wound.

“That cocksucking rooster. We should just sell it,” Hoseok squawked from his spot on the breakfast bar, looking up from the noisy Tik Tok he was playing aloud. “I think it’s evil.”

Jimin rolled his eyes at the comment, one of his sandy ears twitching, before he placed his hand over Y/N’s tenderly.

“It’s just a nip. I’ll go disinfect it and come right back,” Jimin assured her, Y/N’s stubbornness coming to a head.

“Let me help,” Y/N tailed the coyote hybrid, reminded of the time he tended to her injury, and wanting to give a little bit back. “Bandit… appropriately named. Or perhaps Lucifer would have suited him better.”

Jimin snorted, letting Y/N grab a hold of the thick corduroy button-down he had over his tee shirt, dragging her down the hall and into his bedroom. The room, as always, had a sereneness to it. Dark blue colors, neat and tidy, and smelling like calming lavender and the crisp outdoors.

“Okay, sit,” Y/N took control, pushing Jimin onto his bed by his biceps, his tail slightly thumping against his mattress as determination set the shape of her mouth. Making haste for his bathroom, she was easily able to locate his basic first-aid kit, one she had in every en-suite in the house under the sink, dragging it out to the awaiting coyote hybrid.

Sitting beside him, Y/N held out her palm expectantly, Jimin placing his forearm into her grasp with a gentle sigh of resignation. Wincing at the torn skin, Y/N quickly loaded up a cotton square with alcohol, dabbing at the site gingerly. Jimin, to his credit, didn’t wince or flinch away, simply studying her actions with his lip tucked between his teeth.

“Sorry, it probably stings,” Y/N mumbled, reaching for the soothing ointment in the kit blindly, applying it on the bite.

“‘S alright,” Jimin shook his head, his hand curling into a fist before his digits relaxed, Y/N wondering if it was an attempt to get past the pain. “It’ll probably be healed up by the morning.”

Humming, Y/N smoothed a Hello Kitty bandaid over his skin, recalling how quickly hybrids recovered from injury.

“I’m sure something like that happened from time to time when you worked on the ranch,” Y/N mused, reluctant to let go of the coyote hybrid just yet.

“Yeah, perks of the job,” Jimin chuckled, making no move to peel himself away from her as well, Y/N feeling the brush of his tail against her lower back. “Thank you for patching me up. Beats my buddies telling me to rub dirt in it or threatening to kiss it better.”

Blinking at that tidbit of information, Y/N watched Jimin’s eyes go far away, a tiny smile on his full lips. Without thinking, and while he was distracted, Y/N ducked, pressing her puckered lips to the pink bandage. All she heard was a sharp, quiet, gasped intake of breath, Jimin’s strong forearm going limp in her palm as soon as she kissed him.

“A kiss is better than dirt, no?” Y/N straightened back up, finally letting his arm go and pushing that pesky strand of honey hair over his forehead back to join the rest of his slicked-back locks.

Jimin was stunned, effectively pulled out of his reminiscing, his butterscotch eyes wide as he stared down at her. In the distance, she heard Hoseok hollering about dinner being ready, Jimin’s downturned ears twitching, Y/N leaping from her spot and motioning for Jimin to follow. She was halfway through the door when Jimin replied, though she didn’t end up catching what he said.

“Much better.”

The next morning, a Sunday, would have typically been lazy and domestic. Usually, her and her hybrids went about their own business; watching movies, playing board games, and attending to their hobbies. However, that particular Sunday morning, Y/N had left Jimin in charge of making sure no one got into petty arguments, and was carefully ascending the stairs with a plate of hot, greasy breakfast food.

Much like Yoongi had predicted, Taehyung had not joined the rest of them for dinner, which nobody else saw as odd. Taehyung was still rather introverted and not so keen on befriending anyone besides Yoongi, and the others were of course happy to ignore him. The Kodiak hybrid hadn’t hauled himself downstairs for the Sunday morning fry up, and Y/N figured it was as good of a time as any to get their uncomfortable conversation out of the way.

Reaching his bedroom door, Y/N balanced the plate of food on her forearm, a large glass of water in her grip, and used her free hand to knock on his door as quietly as she could. She heard a gruff groan in response, Y/N rolling her eyes and making her way inside the room, shutting the door behind her.

The room was dark, all of the drapes pulled shut a little haphazardly, and Taehyung was slumped on his bed, his arm dangling over the side of the mattress and one of his cheeks squished on a pillow. His wild curly hair was matted and sticking up in several directions, and as Y/N held back a giggle when he moaned again, his eyebrows knit together and his nostrils flared.

“Morning,” Y/N whispered, placing the plate of food on his dresser, putting a lid over the fried eggs, mountain of toast, and breakfast sausages so they wouldn’t get cold. Though she uttered the greeting only above a breath, Taehyung groaned, pretty much planked on his front on top of his quilt. “Oh, honey…”

Fishing around in her pocket, she pulled out a packet of Advil tablets, crouching down in front of him and offering both the medication and the chilled glass of water, one of his carmine eyes cracking open slightly.

After a beat, Y/N watched the hybrid sluggishly turn onto his side, propped up on an elbow, his lips chapped as they parted slightly. Moving at glacial speed, Taehyung refused to meet Y/N’s eyes as he accepted both the pills and the glass, eagerly taking the medication and sucking down half the glass of water.

“Bit too much to drink last night, huh?” Y/N began, planting her ass on the ground and wrapping her arms around her knees. Taehyung’s throat bobbed as he swallowed the Advil capsules, Y/N following the movement with rapt interest. “I brought you some breakfast. It’ll soak up some of that gin. You should take it easy today, Tae, I can bring up my laptop and you can do a little photo editing in bed or something.”

Taehyung sat up more fully, although the movement was clunky and lacked the typical brawn and speed that he usually operated at. Clutching his forehead, one of Taehyung’s sharpened incisors bit down on his lower lip so harshly he drew a bead of blood to the surface of the flesh. Sighing, Y/N got to her knees, reaching up and back for the plate of food, placing it on his bed in front of him. The Kodiak hybrid’s complexion turned a touch green, a large hand slapping across his mouth and nose, and Y/N swore she heard a guttural gag from the back of his throat. She’d been there.

“I know the smell is probably making you nauseous, but you’ll feel better if you eat. I promise,” Y/N encouraged, Taehyung’s round ears pressed flat against his skull, an animalistic grumble vibrating his chest. “I… wanna talk to you, Tae.”

Appearing to catch him off guard as he poked at one of the fried eggs with his fork, Taehyung blinked at her, his expression blank. Y/N suspected, judging by the vacant expression, that he might have blacked out the previous night and couldn’t remember anything that happened; including but not limited to him pushing her against a wall and letting Yoongi spoon-feed him tortellini soup (or so her leopard hybrid had revealed to her over her morning coffee).

“Do you remember anything about last night?”

“No… No, I don’t,” Taehyung set his fork down promptly, unease turning down the corners of his mouth. “Did I do something wrong?”

Y/N shook her head immediately, though she knew that Yoongi– and the others, if they knew, would beg to differ. Unfortunately, the silent denial did nothing to make Taehyung’s alarm go away.

“You definitely drank way over your limit, but you didn’t do anything wrong. Nothing I’ve ever done that drunk, anyways,” Y/N picked at the fringe on his rug, mind going to the memory of drunkenly pushing Yoongi against a wall and demanding his phone number. “Actually, I’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while. I haven’t managed to corner you until now.”

“What did I do?” Taehyung ignored her latter statement, stiffening when Y/N leaned forward, plucking up a piece of toast and raising it to his lips with a cocked eyebrow. If he didn’t get any food into his system, he’d feel like garbage the rest of the day, hybrid healing skills or not.

“You seemed angry with me. I came home, you were listening to some jazz on Youtube in the parlor, and you had finished about half a bottle of gin. With no chasers,” Y/N only began speaking when Taehyung reluctantly took a bite of the toast, chewing robotically and staring at his hands tangled in his lap. “I think you were trying to tell me something, but Yoongi interrupted before you could say anything… and then you ran up here.”

Taehyung was quiet, his dark eyebrows pulled together as Y/N fed him toast, apparently lost in thought. While disheveled and still dressed in his cargo pants and hoodie from yesterday, Taehyung was nothing short of effortlessly handsome, even if Y/N could smell gin on his breath.

“Angry with you?” Taehyung mumbled, tongue flicking out to catch some jam on the corner of his mouth. “I don’t remember. I’m sorry…”

“It’s alright, Tae. Keep eating,” Y/N encouraged, placing the fork back into his hand. “I don’t know if you’ve heard of this anecdote, but people often say that drunk words are sober thoughts. If there’s something on your mind, I want you to be able to talk to me about it. I care about you a lot, and miss having you around all the time. I don’t like… the distance.”

Y/N surprised herself by being so honest, stopping just short of spilling her guts and revealing her feelings for her elusive Kodiak hybrid. As she spoke, Taehyung made it about halfway through an egg before he pushed the plate away on top of his quilt, a frown on his face but the guarded look in his eyes softening exponentially. Looking down at her through his eyelashes, Taehyung heaved a great sigh, head tipping backwards and collapsing on his pillow.

“I’ve been acting immaturely, huh?” Taehyung breathed, his forearm draped over his eyes as he chuckled humorlessly, seemingly talking to himself more than anything else. “There’s no use in avoiding you, anyways. Stubborn and persistent.”

“So, you were purposefully avoiding me. Wanna tell me why? Does it have to do with… Yoongi and I?” Y/N probed, nearly whispering the last question. The corner of Taehyung’s mouth quirked up into a sardonic smirk. “Okay, I’m guessing that’s what it is.”

“I just,” Taehyung peeled his arm off of his face, sitting up and joining Y/N on the floor, pushing curls out of his eyes with annoyance. “Like Jimin. Wish you just told me.”

Y/N swallowed, looking down at her lap, shame filling her. Taehyung returned to his breakfast, munching on another piece of toast, leaning against his bed. She could hear him taking sniffs of the air delicately, probably smelling the emotions coming off of her, and Y/N couldn’t help but notice how he sat several inches away, rather than pressed up against her like normal.

“I’m sorry,” Y/N’s voice was scratchy, picking at the rug once more. “You’re right, I should have told you.”

“That night, when I told you about how I ended up here, you said you trusted me. I trust you,” Taehyung admitted, Y/N slouching so low in response, she felt like she was curling in on herself. “I meant what I said, and I know you did too. But I couldn’t understand why you felt like you needed to hide your feelings for Yoongi from me.”

Not wanting to cry in front of the hybrid, pride somehow welling up in her and mingling with her shame, she willed her lip to stop wobbling, peeking at Taehyung out of the corner of her eye. While difficult to hear, Y/N could tell it took a great deal of courage for Taehyung to confess that to her.

“I didn’t know how to bring it up to any of you. I felt like everyone was finally getting comfortable here, and I was worried about disturbing the peace. Of course, I managed to do that anyways,” Y/N stared out of one of Taehyung’s windows, keeping her vision on the horizon so tears wouldn’t spill down her cheeks. “I trust you, of course. It wasn’t about me not trusting you, but trying to protect everyone’s… peace, I suppose. Comfort.”

“You can’t protect us from everything, Y/N,” Taehyung told her softly, Y/N all too aware of that truth. “There are going to be times where shit gets rough or uncomfortable, but we’ve all been through tough situations before. We can handle the truth, even if you think we can’t.”

Y/N was stunned by Taehyung’s sage advice, even if he was scolding her slightly. Nodding, she swallowed thickly, Taehyung reaching out to place a hand on her shoulder heavily. The contact had her spine going rigid, as Taehyung hadn’t so much as glanced at her recently, let alone give her a friendly touch.

“Is he… treating you well?” Taehyung’s low voice was barely audible, even right in her ear. The question made her cheeks burn, heart racing. Whatever she was expecting him to say next, it wasn’t that.

“Um, yes, of course,” Y/N mumbled awkwardly, twiddling her thumbs. “He loves me, too.”

“I know,” Taehyung removed his hand from her shoulder, getting to his feet and beginning to rummage through his dresser. “He’s loved you from the start.”

Gawking at Taehyung, looking at him from head to toe while his back was turned, Y/N was at a loss for words. Taehyung spun on his heels, offering a broad palm to help her up, a change of clothes tucked under his other arm. With a shaky grip, she took it, trying to catch eye contact, but the Kodiak hybrid avoided it.

“Tae…” Y/N began, feeling like the conversation wasn’t quite over, and she refused to let go of his hand even when he tried to pull away. “We–”

“Thank you for breakfast, you were right, it made me feel better. I’m going to shower, though,” Taehyung cut her off, squeezing her hand tightly before releasing it. “I’ll come down after… I’ll quit hiding, so stop worrying about me, please.”

“Oh, Tae–!” Y/N wasn’t fast enough, Taehyung’s hybrid strength and speed apparently returning to him, and he disappeared into his bathroom with a click of a lock, leaving her reeling in his bedroom, her palm tingling from his touch still.

Absently, she collected Taehyung’s half-eaten breakfast, and when she heard the shower turn on, it prompted her to leave the room, wondering if anything was accomplished by that conversation, if he truly would stop avoiding her, and how he knew about Yoongi’s feelings for so long. Humming sadly, she set her destination to the kitchen, thoughts still occupied with the flash of hurt in Taehyung’s eyes.

“Are you sure you know how to drive this thing, wolf?” Jeongguk shouted from the booth in the back of the old van, Y/N cringing in the passenger seat beside Namjoon, who had very sharply turned onto a side street. “Judas priest, try not to hit the curb.”

“Be quiet,” Namjoon barked back, pushing the pair of glasses he was wearing up his nose bridge. Y/N had gotten him blue light glasses so he wouldn’t burn his retinas while he was crouched over her laptop researching for hours on end. “You can’t even drive in general, so can it.”

Giggling into her palm, Y/N admired her wolf hybrid while he glanced at the GPS on his phone. His silver hair was parted and swept back neatly, and was wearing Y/N’s favorite sweater he owned, a cream cable-knit scoop neck. She tried her best to not ogle him too much, but the sight of his strong, tanned hands wrapped around the steering wheel and perched on the gear shift had her slightly squirming in her seat.

“Are we almost there?” Jeongguk, in fact, did not shut up, the sound of his thumb flicking a lighter making Namjoon’s bitten ear twitch.

“Excited, sweets?” Y/N tossed over her shoulder, adjusting the hem of her plaid skirt, Jeongguk snorting, though Y/N caught him twirling a pen between his fingers and tapping his foot eagerly. Jeongguk had also gone out of his way to look nice that afternoon, opting for a loose charcoal button-down and normal dress pants rather than his usual casual gothic attire.

“Please,” Jeongguk muttered, his voice muffled by the cigarette pursed between his lips. Y/N felt her mouth water, the elk hybrid’s hair beginning to grow in a way that made him look like a 50’s style greaser, complete with the shiny gel. “The possibility of interacting with paranoid humans all afternoon isn’t exactly enthralling.”

Rolling her eyes, Y/N focused back on the road in front of her, not taking Jeongguk seriously at all. Jeongguk talked a big game, and certainly appeared intimidating with his glare, tattoos, and piercings, but deep down he was just as passionate about his interest in the paranormal as Namjoon was.

“You guys will get your first paycheck by the end of the week, isn’t that awesome? I mean, if we can wrap up the investigation and cleansing by then,” Y/N changed the subject, rolling her window down (manually, with a crank) to filter out Jeongguk’s cigarette smoke, Namjoon grumbling about the frigid temperature.

“Are you sure it’s legal for us to get paid?” Jeongguk asked incredulously.

“Uh, good question,” Y/N admitted, watching Namjoon’s hands tense around the steering wheel. “One for Ben.”

“Says we’ll be there in three minutes,” Namjoon pointed to the GPS, Y/N leaning forward in her seat to get a good look at the suburban street they were driving down.

It was just an average looking neighborhood in Newton, about twenty minutes from their own home, the houses sleepy Victorians and sidewalks studded with ancient trees. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, even when Namjoon parked his van outside of a little blue house shrouded by great oak trees.

“Is this it?” Y/N leaned across her armrest to check out the front of the building, squeaking out an apology when Namjoon jerked in his seat from the proximity, her cheek smacking into his chest. “Shit, sorry Joonie.”

“No, it’s the post office. Why else would he park here?” Jeongguk flicked the back of her head, Y/N flinching when one of his icy silver rings made her scalp smart. “Let’s go, we’re late.”

Muttering, Y/N massaged the back of her head, hearing the elk hybrid rummage around behind her for his bag, Namjoon unfastening his seatbelt with an apologetic grimace. Ever since she had scolded the wolf hybrid for speeding, he began going under the speed limits. The man was never really one for gray areas, moving from one extreme to another.

Pulling her coat closer around her body, Y/N jumped out of the old van, clutching her notebook to her chest and expelling a deep breath. While Namjoon locked up, she tucked the dangling wires to his Walkman deeper into his bookbag, snorting softly at the excited twitch to his tail.

Once in front of the door to the home, Y/N rang the doorbell, feeling the delicious heat of her two hybrids behind her like a solid wall. She hadn’t been that excited for an event in a while, even though it involved the unknown and people in trouble– the chance to spend one-on-one time with Namjoon and Jeongguk had her bouncing on her toes while she waited for the door to open.

Moments later, the heavy door creaked open, a thin, short woman appearing in the darkened threshold, a screen storm door separating her from the three lingering on her porch. The woman took in the sight in front of her with darting eyes, which had purplish circles beneath them, her hair a bit unkempt and hands shaking as she placed one of them on the handle to the storm door.

“Are you… Y/N?” The woman asked, her voice small, scratchy, and weary.

“Yes, are you Ms. Sanders? I work for Judy, I’m taking over her home consultations. She sent me all of the information you gave her about the situation in your home,” Y/N hoped that the woman would invite them in soon, the wind was biting and she could sense Jeongguk’s impatience without having to look at him.

“Please, come in,” Ms. Sanders– Erika, Y/N remembered her first name from the packet– pushed the remaining barrier between the outside and the apparently haunted house aside, Y/N promptly stepped into the house once the woman moved. “Also, please excuse the mess. I haven’t had much time to, um, clean up, lately.”

Namjoon shut the door behind him once everyone was inside, Y/N sneaking a peek at him sniffing the air with a thoughtful expression, Jeongguk looking awkward and unconfident, for once. Contrary to what Erika said about the state of her home, things seemed tidy, eerily so, and in the small den that they were led to, nothing seemed out of place, just lonely.

“I’d like to introduce you to my two hybrids, they’re here to help, as well. This is Namjoon, he’s very knowledgeable about all things paranormal, actually, all things in general,” Y/N gestured to her wolf hybrid, who exuded the confidence that Jeongguk seemed to be lacking. “And this is Jeongguk. He’s worked with a paranormal investigative group and has years of experience. Both of them successfully helped me rid my own home of an entity.”

“Y-yes, Judy mentioned that she’d be sending a team here for me,” Erika eyed the two hybrids standing behind Y/N like bodyguards, Y/N comforted by both of their contrasting scents in an unfamiliar place; floral honey and leathery smoke. “Make yourself comfortable. Can I get anyone anything to drink?”

Y/N shook her head, the two hybrids following suit, sitting on her either side on the lumpy sofa in the living room. Y/N had to admit, there was a hair-raising, peculiar feel to the energy in the home, one that set her teeth on edge. Definitely different from the way it felt in her own house, Y/N could tell Jeongguk could sense it too, his dark eyes narrowed as he scanned the room.

“So, Ms. Sanders–”

“Please, just Erika is fine,” she sat on the sofa across from Y/N and her two hybrids, her frame sagging tiredly. The woman watched Namjoon methodically place his Walkman onto the coffee table, feeding a blank tape into the device. “Should I get the kids?”

“Actually, we were thinking that getting your explanation of what’s been going on first would be best. That way we can compare each family member’s experience to one another,” Y/N held her hands up, Erika halting her movements to rise from her seat, definitely a little bit jittery.

“Would it be okay to tape the interviews so I can review them later?” Namjoon addressed the young mother suddenly, his fingertip hovering over the record button and ears forward and alert.

“I’d let you film and broadcast on national television if it gave you an edge over whatever has been tormenting my family,” Erika insisted, Namjoon raising a brow but pressing down on the record button anyways, angling the device closer to the woman so the microphone would better pick up her voice. “So, where should I start?”

“How about when you first noticed things were becoming out of the ordinary. Nothing is too insignificant, so speak freely,” Y/N encouraged, Jeongguk leaning backwards on the couch beside her, ankle over knee, his journal opened up to a fresh page.

“Well, we moved here a little over a year ago. From Colorado. I separated from my husband and the kids and I needed somewhere safe to stay, far away… he’s an alcoholic, you see. My family is from Massachusetts, so I wanted to be near my folks god forbid my ex ever tried to come and find us…” Erika’s eyes became glazed over, Y/N trying not to react to her hybrids shifting and coiling in alert when a thump-thump-thump came from a wall behind the young mother, who apparently didn’t notice or was all too used to the sound. “Everything was normal, at first. The first six months here were perfect, idyllic, even.”

“When did that start to change?” Jeongguk spoke up for the first time, the tip of his pen tapping his lower lip. Erika glanced at Jeongguk, pulled from her reverie, and her expression became sharpened as if icy water was dumped over her head.

“It happened gradually. My son, Thomas, is non-verbal, but he started having nightmares eight months ago. He’d come into my room and climb into my bed, shaking. While he’s non-verbal, he’s always been quite independent and brave, so this struck me as odd– especially when the nightmares became a nightly thing. Unfortunately, I don’t know what his nightmares are about, because he’s refused to even write anything down about them, but I know they terrify him. That was the first instance of strange events, and he still has them almost every night.”

Y/N nodded, the sounds of Jeongguk hastily scribbling his notes down on the linen page of his notebook, and the crackling of the Walkman, filling the sad silence of the home. Y/N was reminded of her own nightmares that came with the haunting she experienced; the creature that chased her in her sleep, and the fear that crept down the notches of her spine had Namjoon scooching an inch closer to her subconsciously.

“After that, my Jules… She's always been a sort of flower child. But ever so slowly, that bubbliness has gone away, she’s been more introverted, edgy. I thought maybe it was just because she’s entering her teenage years, but she’s made some new friends at school. Ones that I’m not sure have the best influence on her.”

“How do you mean?” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, wondering if there was some kind of entity Namjoon had learned about that was summoned when one makes shitty friends.

“They’re older than her, and whenever she hangs out with that group of kids, she’s out all hours of the night, ignoring her curfew,” Erika sighed, tearing her eyes from Jeongguk and shaking her head. “I’m not usually like this, I mean, my brother was goth growing up, so I’m more than used to the culture. But these kids are bad news, I know it. They’re less about music, politics, and fashion and more about teenage riot. Property destruction, drinking on the train tracks. Jules was never like that, so her sudden change in personality concerned me.”

“So, your daughter made a couple of friends who turned out to be punks, and her whole personality changed?” Jeongguk confirmed, though his usual condescending tone was absent. In fact, Y/N was very impressed by how much the elk hybrid reined in his attitude.

“I know what that sounds like, like I simply don’t care for her friends. But the more she hangs out with them, the darker her personality becomes,” Erika’s voice went rather quiet, now refusing to look towards Jeongguk at all.

“Sometimes, what ends up happening in a haunting involving children, particularly young teens, their moods are influenced heavily by whatever has attached itself to the teen’s home or even the teen themselves. There’s a chance that your daughter acting out, especially in a way that you disapprove of to provoke a reaction, is not due to her new friends, but instead, it’s something above her control entirely.”

Namjoon’s insight had Y/N blinking in surprise. Instantly, she felt a little sheepish about that shock, as she knew he had been doing extra research for the past several days– not to mention his lifetime of knowledge he was already sitting on– but it was impressive to hear him relay information like that. Y/N recalled how Seokjin had mentioned Namjoon was different in group settings outside of the home, more vocal. Perhaps that’s what her wolf hybrid was like at the book club, take-charge and confident. Y/N thought that Jeongguk would be more like that, but she was equally surprised by the elk hybrid’s quiet observations.

“So, you think the… ghost, or whatever, is what’s causing Jules to behave so differently?” Erika chewed on her lip, the thump-thump-thump sound returning, this time overhead, Y/N trying her best not to react. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jeongguk jot something down urgently. “I mean, she won’t even talk to me. I don’t even know if she’d be willing to talk to you.”

With that, Jeongguk sat forward, unbuttoning his shirt cuffs and rolling the fabric up over his forearms. Raising an eyebrow at him, Jeongguk’s eyes flickered playfully in her direction, sticking his pen behind his ear.

“Is there any chance Julie’s friends look like me?” Jeongguk drawled, again, without any judgment, miraculously. Erika appeared embarrassed, nodding slightly.

“I–I mean, without antlers, of course b-but I didn’t mean to insinuate–”

“It’s alright, Ms. Sanders,” Jeongguk held up his tattooed hand indifferently, rising to his feet. “Julie might be more willing to open up to someone who shares a similar… aesthetic. The wolf, here, is too granola-crunchy, and Y/N certainly has more questions for you.”

Namjoon growled lightly beside Y/N, staring at the elk hybrid resentfully. To her wolf hybrid’s dismay, she was once again agreeing with Jeongguk.

“You think she’d be…? I mean, if you can get anything from her, please, try. I just want to know if she’s, um, as scared as we are. Her brother and I. If she’s seen things like us,” Erika, too, stood, her movements wobbly and frail. “I can show you to her room, ask if she’s up to meeting you. She knows that I’m having this consultation, anyways.”

“Ms. Sanders, Y/N and I are going to take a quick walk around the property while you and Jeongguk speak with Julie. When you return, I’d like to ask you about specific instances of activity,” Namjoon hooked a large hand around Y/N’s elbow, manhandling her to a stance, pausing the tape recording. Without even glancing his way, Jeongguk caught the Walkman Namjoon sent hurtling towards his head, the two of them having an unspoken plan already, apparently.

The young mother nodded, ushering Jeongguk up the narrow staircase to the second level of the home, Y/N spluttering as Namjoon dragged her outside, his grip strong as always, but tender and steadying. Heart racing, she grit her teeth at the nasty wind chill that greeted them once they were on the lawn, and naturally, Y/N clung as close as she could to Namjoon’s side without him growing uncomfortable.

“Why are we–?” Y/N began, Namjoon leading her to his van, letting go of her elbow once he yanked open the passenger seat, rummaging through his disorganized glovebox. “Joon.”

“Hold on, Y/N,” Namjoon mumbled, barely noticing that she was stuck to his back like a jetpack to shield from the bitter cold, teeth beginning to chatter. “I have an idea.”

Finally, he turned, his burnt honey eyes the only whisper of warmth amongst the gray of the sky, holding an array of objects in his arms; what appeared to be two, long, L-shaped pipes, a spool of red fabric ribbon, and a couple of packets, by the looks of it.

“Whatcha got there?” Y/N snorted, loving how much Namjoon was getting into the whole situation.

“Here,” Namjoon ignored her question, shifting everything but the little packets into one arm, taking one of her wrists, and aggressively shaking the pouches with a concentrated expression.

In the palm of her gloved hand, Namjoon placed a hand warmer in the center of it, promptly manipulating her wrist into the pocket of her coat, and repeating the same process with the other hand. Stunned, she stared at her wolf hybrid and registered the out-of-character action like she was a third party looking on, and Y/N wondered if the pink hue of his human ears blossomed because of the wind or bashfulness.

“Have you ever heard of dowsing rods, or people using them during paranormal investigations?” Namjoon asked after clearing his throat, turning again to lock up his van and break eye contact.

“Um, vaguely. I might have seen them use them on Ghost Adventures,” Y/N managed to choke back, the hand warmers keeping her fingertips toasty in her pockets. “Is that what those poles are?”

“Yeah. I figured we could just take a quick walk around the house with these, and we can mark areas that show any sort of reaction with the ribbon tied around a tree. While I handle the rods, you can try and read the energy beside me,” Namjoon motioned for her to follow him back up the driveway, thoughtfully reading her skeptical reaction. “I know you’ve been working on your energy readings lately, Y/N. You can do it, I believe in you.”

It was Y/N’s turn to be bashful upon hearing those words from her wolf hybrid. Namjoon’s approval was something that was hard-won, so the encouragement and praise had her floating straight up into the clouds. With those words, she thought she could probably scale a mountain if he was by her side.

Without hesitation, she trailed after Namjoon, curiously watching him shift the metal rods in his hands, and when they reached the side of the house where a large window looked into the living room, the wolf hybrid paused. Shivering, Y/N felt unease well up in her gut, the sensation of one thousand ancient eyes on her causing her skin to crawl. There was definitely something there, lingering around that window, perhaps in the brush, and judging by the movements of the rods in Namjoon’s hands and the frown on his face, he was coming to the same conclusion.

Saying nothing, Y/N simply sticking close to Namjoon as they made a slow circle around the yard, she concentrated on opening herself up to the energies of the backyard as much as she could, without risking attachment or harm. Namjoon was right, her practice was paying off, because she was starting to get a better sense of the types of entities that were lingering in the yard alone.

“Okay, get anything?” Namjoon asked, once they had landed back to the side of the building they first began canvassing, using his sharp teeth to tear a strip of red ribbon from the spool he was holding. “This window here seems to be the hotspot, but the house feels like it’s almost shrouded in something…”

“I think we’re dealing with more than one entity here,” Y/N admitted quietly, while Namjoon tied a knot around a little sapling under the window. “I felt a few different energies. Only one, in this particular spot, made me uncomfortable. Like I’m being watched. The others felt more organic, human.”

“And that’s just out here,” Namjoon added, but it sounded like he was talking mostly to himself. “Come on, let’s head back in. Jeongguk is done talking to the girl already.”

Absently, Namjoon reached backwards, one of his hands still adjusting the ribbon on the sapling, his fingers wiggling as he searched for Y/N’s grip. Mouth dropping open, she automatically slid her gloved hand into his, listening to his chest rumble as the residual heat from the hand warmers melted into his chilled skin. Never one to deny Namjoon his rare moments of actively seeking out any sort of affection, Y/N soaked in the moment as best she could.

“You still have that list of questions to ask?” Namjoon held her hand tightly as she walked up the ice-slick concrete steps into the house, so she wouldn’t slip.

“Uh-huh. We’ll probably be able to wrap up the consultation afterwards, schedule the investigation. With the energy I’ve felt so far, I think it’s best we get in here as soon as we can to clear it out.”

Back inside, Namjoon let her go, and the first thing Y/N registered was the teenage girl that was now sitting in the living room, beside Jeongguk, her hands tangled in her lap. Exchanging a sideways glance with Namjoon, she hurried into the room, taking a seat next to Erika and her son, Thomas, who had also chosen to join the consultation. Y/N noticed that the young boy was holding onto a plastic toy robot tightly, like someone was going to take it away from him.

“Tommy, this is Y/N, she’s going to help us,” Erika smoothed a hand down her son’s back, the kid blinking at Y/N in acknowledgement, similar dark circles under his eyes that mirrored his mother’s. Her heart broke, in consequence. “That’s the wolf hybrid I was telling you about, too, honey. Namjoon is his name. Tommy loves wolves.”

Tommy, indeed, was staring at Namjoon with stars in his eyes, squirming in his seat, Erika affording all of them a tender smile for the first time Y/N and her two hybrids had stepped foot into the home. Namjoon, embarrassed, sat on Jeongguk’s free side, offering Tommy a little wave, one of his sharp incisors biting down on his plush lower lip.

“Alright, kiddo, she’s probably got a few questions for you. She’s cool,” Jeongguk set Namjoon’s Walkman back onto the coffee table, Y/N’s eyebrows shooting into her hairline as the elk hybrid used the nickname he usually saved for her on the teenager that only seemed to be at ease because of the burly hybrid beside her.

Getting a good look at Julie, Y/N felt herself take a step backwards in time, the girl looking quite a bit like she did as a teenager; dark eyeliner, graphic band tee, chipped nail polish and holes in the knees of her skinny jeans. Julie regarded Y/N carefully, only after shooting a doubtful look at Jeongguk, then a resentful one at her mother, the girl’s dark eyes narrowing a tad.

“She’s how you described her,” was all Julie said, the corner of her mouth curling up in amusement as Y/N tried not to clench her fists– leave it to Jeongguk to offer up a sarcastic caricature.

“Hey, Julie, nice to meet you,” Y/N ignored Jeongguk’s smug, shit-eating grin, clearly pleased with himself that he was able to get Julie to be comfortable around them. “I do have a few more questions before we go ahead and plan the investigation. Which, when the three of us do conduct the investigation, you and your family will be safe and sound staying at a nearby hotel.”

“You’re not planning on instigating angry spirits, like those quacks on TV, are you?” Julie crossed her arms across her chest with a scowl, several brightly colored rubber bracelets around her wrists. Namjoon was busying himself with straightening out spare blank tapes on the table– he was always a little bit awkward around children.

“No way. That’s all Hollywood, anyways,” Y/N resisted the urge to stick her tongue out at Jeongguk, who was biting down on his fist to prevent laughing, which Y/N found both unprofessional and annoying as a gnat in her ear. “We just want to help get rid of whatever is bothering you. I’m sure Jeongguk told you a little bit about what was hanging around our house a few months ago… we were able to banish it permanently. I, and I’m positive my teammates as well, have no interest in provoking spirits for any kind of viral recognition.”

Y/N tasted the word “teammates” on her tongue like a saccharine hard candy, after all, it was the first time she was using it in reference to the sort of operation she had created with Namjoon and Jeongguk. Neither of them seemed to notice the significance, but both of them sobered with her words, nodding in agreement. Jokes aside, the situation was serious, and helping the family was top priority– thirst for knowledge and experience aside. Julie seemed to relax in response to Y/N’s promise, and without further ado, Y/N waited for Namjoon to start up the tape again, and she launched into her list of questions.

“Has the spirit ever shown itself physically to any of you?”

On the way back home from the Sanders’ residence, Y/N felt her frame sagging into the worn leather seat beside Namjoon, the tense of the house energy dissolving the further Namjoon drove from the address. She was ready for a hot bath and some mindless television, having more than enough of the paranormal for one day. A bit loopy, Y/N focused on the air freshener hanging from the rearview mirror, the shape of it a cartoon flying saucer.

“So the mother has seen a shadow in the hall at night, usually when she gets off from work. Then we had the kid point at the window, which Y/N mentioned feeling like an entity watches the family from there–”

“Jeongguk, you can take notes silently,” Namjoon sighed, probably sensing how exhausted Y/N was, even over the folk tape he was playing quietly and Y/N’s attempts to stay awake by pinching her thigh periodically.

“Fuck off,” Jeongguk muttered, but lapsed into silence anyways. Y/N stole a look at him over her shoulder, and he was lazily propped up on his side in the booth, a pen cap sticking out of his mouth while he scanned his notes.

Namjoon had cleaned up the van in preparation for their journey to the Sanders’, stacking his books neatly and moving most of them up to the loft where the mattress was, considering it was not being used. He even brought in a few blankets and pillows to make things a little more comfortable, one of the throws currently over her lap. Y/N, as well, added her own touch to the van– upon the wolf hybrid’s insistence– and taped little battery-operated fairy lights around the ceiling of the vehicle. In the short few days the three of them made the van ready for longer trips, Y/N had grown quite fond of spending time in there, and her and Hoseok had coined it the “mystery van”.

“Joonie?” Y/N spoke suddenly, her voice definitely weary but catching the wolf hybrid’s attention nonetheless, his ears perking up cutely even with his eyes still trained on the road.

“Mmm?” Namjoon pushed his glasses up his nose again, turning down the radio.

“How did you get this van?” Y/N dared to ask. She hadn’t done much prying into Namjoon’s past, heeding the advice in her wolf hybrid guidebook to let him present information when he’s ready, but since he had softened up so much, she figured asking wouldn’t do too much harm.

“It was given to me,” Namjoon replied cryptically, though Y/N was pleased enough that he actually answered her to not pout about how little that was revealed. “Shortly before you adopted me. In Wyoming.”

“Did you teach yourself how to drive?�� Y/N figured she might as well go along with it if Namjoon was okay with that line of questioning, and didn’t seem peeved she was being curious.

“No, someone taught me,” Namjoon’s lips were twisted up in amusement, casting a brief look in her direction. “Some things can’t be learned from books.”

“Ah, I see,” Y/N didn’t want to push her luck, wiggling further into her seat to get comfortable. She had about one thousand follow-up questions, but she had all the time in the world to get answers from Namjoon.

“I lived alone most of my life, in the woods, abandoned cabins. I never liked to stay in one place, mostly because I avoided running into humans… I came across this van deep in Yellowstone park one night in the spring a few years back, the awning was out, and an old woman was sitting in a lawn chair in front of a campfire. I’m not sure how she managed to spot me, but she did,” Namjoon shocked Y/N by actually launching into a story, her mouth agape and even Jeongguk’s furious notetaking had ceased. “I hadn’t had a real meal in… well, ever. She offered me some dinner. At that point in my life, I didn’t trust humans as far as I could throw them. But I could smell her sincerity.”

Y/N had no idea what to say in response. An innocent question turned into a whole lot of background on her wolf hybrid, and she didn’t know whether to begin recording him or stay statue-still.

“Her name was Joan. Most of the stuff in here is hers, she had quite an interest in UFOs and ‘mythical’ creatures. Over the next few weeks, I’d check in on her… she was quite old, and by herself, and I suppose having access to real food was tempting to me as well. I’d listen to her prattle on about things she’s seen in the woods, I’d share things that I had experienced in the wilderness over the years,” Namjoon continued, turning the windshield wipers on when a flurry of snow began to fall. “After a few weeks, I trusted her enough to take her up on the driving lessons, joining her on her trips to town for provisions. I didn’t live with her, but I’d spend time there every few days.”

“Did you steal an old lady’s camper van?” Jeongguk exclaimed from the backseat, a throaty growl coming from Namjoon in consequence.

“No, you asshole. There were a couple of weeks where I’d go to the van, but she wasn’t there. It was confusing, like she had just vanished, but I wasn’t so attached to her that I was overly concerned. While she was old, she was still a decent hiker. I guessed she had just taken a tent and gone for a little trip,” Namjoon turned off the highway, taking the ramp that would bring them back into their town.

“I was wrong. The last time I went to check on her, the van door was open, but there was someone else inside. Thinking it was an intruder, I took a look inside, but I recognized the younger woman from pictures Joan had, it was her daughter. Her daughter told me that Joan had checked herself into the hospital following up on her heart condition, but it was too late. She died within three days of being in the hospital, heart failure,” Namjoon frowned, ears flattening to his skull. “The daughter said Joan mentioned me. Wanted me to have the van. The daughter had no use for it, anyways… She was just collecting some photos. She said I could have it, gave me the keys, and I never saw her again. It was convenient, so I just started living in here.”

Ears ringing, Y/N couldn’t believe how much she had gotten from Namjoon with just a few questions, and she felt somewhat guilty that she hadn’t tried to get closer to him in that way, blindly following advice from a stupid guidebook. That aside, her heart swelled a few sizes; if Namjoon felt comfortable enough to share all of that with her and Jeongguk, he had really come a long way since his initial adoption.

“I’m sorry about Joan,” was the first thing Y/N could think of as any sort of coherent reply, putting her hand over Namjoon’s that was resting on the gear shift and squeezing. “She must have liked you quite a bit to leave you this van.”

“I suppose,” Namjoon agreed, letting Y/N keep her hand on top of his, navigating his way through the town square. “She probably just preferred someone keeping all of her stuff safe after she died.”

“What made you want to come all the way to New England?” Jeongguk’s voice was suddenly right beside Y/N’s ear, making her flinch and push his shoulder. He was squatting between her and Namjoon, staring out the windshield with boredom, and a piece of gelled hair sticking to his forehead. The elk hybrid ignored Y/N’s pleas to sit down for safety, much to her chagrin.

“History,” Namjoon shrugged, shutting off the GPS once the familiar streets of their suburb were in view. “I wanted to see what a city was like. New York City seemed too big, and Boston is certainly historical. Plus, I had never seen the ocean before.”

“Weren’t you originally from Los Angeles, Jeongguk?” Y/N changed the subject, emotions welling up in her. As time went on, it was clearer and clearer to her that she and her seven hybrids, by some cosmic intervention, were destined to be together, considering they had come from all over the country at the same time.

“Yeah. Shithole,” Jeongguk rolled his eyes, using a wrist to smack a fresh pack of cigarettes against. Before she could ask him what he meant, Namjoon pulled into the driveway, the sky turning lavender as the sun disappeared over the bare willow trees. “I’m starving. Want a drink.”

Jeongguk straightened up, snatched his notebook from the booth he left it on, and with a flick of his lighter, was jumping out of the van and into the snow.

“Guess he had enough of us,” Namjoon remarked, unfastening his seatbelt and stretching his arms upwards, his shoulders popping with the movement. Snorting, Y/N shook out her stiff legs, folding the blanket over her lap and gathering her tote bag.

“He’s bratty when he’s hungry,” Y/N smirked, waiting for the wolf hybrid to lock up the van before heading to the house. “Maybe I should order pizza tonight, unless Yoongi made something already.”

Namjoon sniffed the air, shaking his head.

“No, nothing’s cooking. Just the fire in the living room is going,” Namjoon matched his stride with Y/N, his tapes and Walkman tucked under his arm. “Order pizza, I can tell you’re tired. The energy work must have taken a bit out of you.”

Preening under Namjoon’s observation, she stared at the snow-dusted grass, feeling closer to him than ever.

“Yeah, I think I’m going to take a bath before dinner. Put some cleansing herbs and salt in the water just to make sure nothing from the Sanders’ house is clinging to me,” Y/N watched Namjoon unlock the front door with the house key he kept in his pocket, her own hands reaching up to dust snow collecting on his shoulders.

“Good idea,” Namjoon let Y/N into the house first, Y/N sighing at the cozy heat and ambient lighting. “Thanks, by the way.”

“Huh?” Y/N spun on her heel, gawking at the wolf hybrid, who was blushing.

“For including us in these investigations,” Namjoon said simply, a faint dimple appearing on his cheek.

“Oh,” Y/N blinked, pausing in front of Namjoon’s bedroom door. “I don’t think I would, or could do it without you two.”

Namjoon’s ears were a vibrant shade of red by now, and with that final comment, he ducked his head, mumbling something about reviewing the tapes before dinner. She let him disappear into his bedroom, and in a sort of daze, Y/N found her way to her own room, opening up her notes app to find the pizza order document with a grin.

February had finally rolled around, and as Hoseok and Y/N both dreaded, it was colder than January. At the very least, the sun was staying up later and later, to her relief, but there had never been so much snow in recent years. She was up to her ears in shoveling the walkways, scraping ice off of the cars, and making sure there was plenty of salt and gravel on the well-walked areas of her yard. That particular afternoon, the first Tuesday of the month, Alice happened to have a day off from the newspaper, and offered to swing by for a bit to catch up.

“Where is everyone?” Alice accepted a hot chocolate from Y/N, sitting in the breakfast nook, glancing at the noticeably hybrid-free kitchen.

“Taehyung officially got his driver’s license recently, he took himself, Yoongi and Hoseok up to the rec center to sign up for the spring activities. Jimin’s out with the horses, Jeongguk and Namjoon I think are in the van researching some equipment we need to order for the investigation in a couple of weeks,” Y/N slid into the booth beside her friend, blowing the steam from her own hot chocolate. “Seokjin got roped into joining Hoseok. He pretty much got dragged out of here.”

“So what you’re saying is, no one will hear us if we talk shit?” Alice grinned, Y/N already knowing what direction the conversation was going to take before Alice said another word. “Spill. You have a glow, so things must have worked out with Yoongi.”

“Between him and I? Yeah,” Y/N grew a bit shy, even if Alice knew pretty much everything about her already. Except for the fact that she had fallen for all of the hybrids, not just Yoongi, and that fact was something she was ready to share with her best friend once and for all. “Some of the others? Not so much.”

“Oh no. Tell me,” Alice scooched closer to Y/N, her arm slung around her shoulders comfortingly.

“Basically, the rest of them caught Yoongi and I in the kitchen in a… compromising position, and that’s how they found out about us,” Y/N grimaced, Alice gasping.

“No way. You weren’t fucking in here–”

“Christ almighty Jesus! No,” Y/N squawked, blood pooling in her cheeks. “We were just kissing. I’m not that much of an adrenaline junkie!”

“Okay, I was gonna say, Y/N. Way to go,” Alice snorted, taking a merry sip of her hot chocolate. “So I’m guessing a handful of them weren’t stoked about walking in on that.”

“Actually, the ones I thought were going to be weird about it were totally fine,” Y/N chewed her lip thoughtfully, aware that Alice wasn’t too familiar with the nuances of each hybrid’s personality. “Jimin and Taehyung were really disappointed that I felt I couldn’t confide in them. Jimin has forgiven me, but Taehyung still seems a little off, even if he insists he’s cool with it. He asked me recently if Yoongi was ‘treating me well’.”

“Damn. He sounds jealous,” Alice leaned back with a wag of her eyebrows. “What I know about hybrids, especially the types you’ve adopted, they can get hella territorial. Maybe it's his instincts screaming at him to protect you.”

“Could be,” Y/N muttered, her cheeks getting even hotter at the thought. “Then there’s Seokjin. He hasn’t addressed it at all, it’s like he’s pretending it’s not even happening. He used to be the clingiest, but now it’s rare he’ll initiate any kind of physical contact at all.”

“Again, babe. Sounds like jealousy. I remember Seokjin, he stuck to you like a starfish and looked at you like you hung the moon. He’s probably in denial,” Alice frowned, watching Y/N’s expression become stormy. “What’s wrong? You have that look on your face like you’ve left something out.”

“Alice, it’s not just Yoongi I’ve fallen in love with,” Y/N rubbed her temples, deciding to just bite the bullet already. “It’s all of them.”

There was a beat of solemn silence, and Y/N could almost smell the wheels in her best friend’s head turning. Alice tightened her hold around Y/N’s shoulders, the smell of her caramel perfume wrapping her up in a deeper hug.

“I had a feeling,” Alice admitted quietly, squeezing Y/N once again. “That’s why you feel guilty that those three are keeping their distance.”

“Mm-hmm,” Y/N felt the hot chocolate go sour in her stomach, though she should have known that Alice had caught on by now. Y/N wasn’t exactly subtle with her heart-eyes around the boys, even with others present. “I talked to Ben about it. I know it’s high school for me to say, but I’m so uncomfortable with the idea of confessing to any of them myself. The possibility of rejection is scary, of course, but seeing how much the boat was rocked when they found out about Yoongi and I…”

“I don’t have to tell you this, babe, but this isn’t something you can run from forever. I think all you can do is take it one step at a time… if you were to sit everyone down at once and admit your feelings to the six of them in one breath, I have a suspicion not a lot of them will take that confession seriously,” Alice mused slowly, Y/N already holding the same opinion. The last thing she wanted was to lump every confession into one sort of sit-down conference, for some reason, the potential scenario came off as cheap and rushed, to her.

“I just. I don’t even know who to start with. Maybe one of the boys that aren’t avoiding me like the plague,” Y/N said miserably.

“You know, there’s a chance one of them may come to you,” Alice encouraged, wanting to cheer up her friend. “You never know. Yoongi felt the same, maybe a few of the others have feelings for you, too.”

Perking up a little bit, Y/N let herself believe that for a few moments, imagining how nice it would be to be past all of the drama and confrontation, and simply living in love and harmony with all of her boys– like a storybook. Unfortunately, Y/N existed in reality and not between the pages of a children’s book, and she shook away the vision dancing around in her head quickly.

“I suppose we’ll see… Yoongi and I are still navigating how we act around the others, anyways. It’s a little tricky,” Y/N changed the subject slightly, knowing that Alice would be interested in some of the spicier things that had been going on in her life, rather than the tangled and complicated.

“I’m sure. If my man was half as sexy as your Yoongi, you’d need a crowbar to pry me off of him at any given moment,” Alice deadpanned, Y/N choking on a sip of her drink, Alice’s throaty laugh filling the empty kitchen. “How does that work, by the way? I mean, with hybrid hearing… have you guys even…?”

“Uh… yeah, we have,” Y/N shrunk down in her seat, embarrassed. “The music room is soundproof.”

“Y/N, you naughty girl! Wait, so like. Is that going to become like the Red Room like in 50 Shades? Like, you’re only going to fuck in there?” Alice, true to herself, brought some humor into the situation, Y/N giggling despite herself.

“I mean, no, I don’t think so,” Y/N managed through laughter, relieved to have some time with her friend and talk about such things. “As hot as it was… I mean we’re probably going to end up sleeping together in a bed at some point. I think it’s futile to pretend we’re not going to be intimate, the others aren’t stupid. I suppose I’ll just have to keep my sound level in check.”

“Okay, so clearly he doesn’t suck in bed, if that’s your response,” Alice teased, poking Y/N in the cheek. “Lucky lady. You do deserve it though, after all those years of The Great Dry Spell.”

“He’s perfect,” was all Y/N responded with, trying not to let her eyes glaze over with the memories of their tryst in the music room. “God. I’m sweating. Let’s talk about something else before I start chewing on the table.”

“I have an idea,” Alice straightened up after several moments of the girls laughing at Y/N’s fluster, taking up one of Y/N’s hands with mischief in her eyes. “Before you shoot it down, think about A) how fun it would be, and B), the potential amazing rewards.”

Making a motion for her to spit it out, Y/N braced herself for something ridiculous.

“You’d do this in small doses, of course– the fact that some of them seem to be jealous is evident. Why not tease them a little? Give Yoongi a kiss here and there in front of them, bat your eyelashes… I’m not saying be a menace with the PDA, but I think well timed PDA might coax one of them into slipping. I know you, if you had more of an idea that one of them had romantic feelings for you, you’d feel better about confessing. Just a thought.”

Y/N mulled that over while draining the rest of her mug, furrowing her eyebrows. That was the exact kind of scheme her, Alice, and Laura would pull when they were teenagers with their high school crushes, and usually, it worked like a charm. Now, however, Y/N felt a little funny about it.

“I don’t know… wouldn’t that be manipulative? Wouldn’t I be using Yoongi?”

“Y/N. Do you seriously think your leopard male hybrid who is in love with you would be upset that you kiss him in front of others? Hello? They’re all about possession. You’re not manipulating, either. Just think of it as a gentle kick in the ass for the others to sort out how they feel,” Alice rolled her eyes, Y/N regretfully realizing her friend was right.

“I’ll think about it. If it blows up in my face, though–”

“If it blows up in your face, I’ll take responsibility. It won’t though,” Alice collected the empty mugs, standing from the breakfast nook. “Alright, babe. We need to catch up on some Below Deck, and I want some dirty details about your man.”

Snorting, Y/N nodded, ready to have a couple of hours to gossip and watch trash reality with a girlfriend. She felt lighter, truly, that she told Alice how she felt about all of the hybrids, and was grateful that Alice not only offered her advice from a different point of view, but made her smile, too. As Alice dragged her to the parlor, Y/N wondered who she was in her past life to not only deserve her boys, but her friends, as well.

“Come on, Y/N, try it!” Hoseok attempted to grab Y/N by the ankle, his russet tail wagging happily as he teasingly pressed the ‘on’ button to his Hypervolt. “You’re being a wuss.”

“Hoseok. I have tried it. Last time you pressed that against the back of my neck without me knowing, I thought I was having a stroke,” Y/N was able to wrestle her ankle free from her fox hybrid’s grip, her ass sore from sitting on the rough surface of the rec center’s indoor track. “I’m not the one about to run a mile. Focus on your own calves.”

“Oh, please, just a couple of seconds,” Hoseok was too quick for her to evade his grabby hands for long, his strong, nimble hands clasping around her ankle again with a cheeky grin.

“Ho-seok,” Y/N groaned as soon as the vibrating tool dug into the meat of her calf, and regretfully, she was eating her words– after a few days of being on her feet at work, the sensation was delicious. “F-focus, honey. It’s the first meet of the season.”

“Yeah, so? You’re the only one who came. Even Jinnie abandoned me, reading his stupid books,” Hoseok ignored her plea to focus on his warm-up stretches, moving the Hypervolt further up her calf, Y/N praying she wouldn’t melt into a puddle of moans and groans at the sensation.

“They’re r-reading a Murakami book this w-week. Hoseok, stop!” Y/N weakly pushed his hands away, pouting at him. “It’s like almost 1,000 pages. He wasn’t doing it to spite you.”

“He could have read it here!” Hoseok countered, though obediently put his Hypervolt back into his gym bag and began to stretch out his quads in front of her. “Whatever. I’m only doing one event tonight, we'll be outta here in like an hour or so.”

“What do you want for dinner? We’ll pick up something on the way home,” Y/N pulled Hoseok’s number from his gym bag, shifting forward on her knees so she could pin it to his jersey tank.

“Chinese. I want a bucket of fried rice,” Hoseok replied without hesitation, Y/N making sure his mahogany waves were suitably held back by the sweatband around his forehead.

“That can be arranged,” Y/N agreed, squeaking in surprise when one of the announcers reminded the mile runners that they had ten minutes before they had to be at the starting line, Hoseok perking up. “Couple of questions for you?”

“Darling?” Hoseok cocked his head, nose twitching in her direction.

“Your birthday is this month. What would you like to do, my social butterfly? Wanna throw a party, or go somewhere specific? A club, a bar?”

Any trace of sly humor disappeared from Hoseok’s face in a flash, astonishment replacing it, before he ever-so-elegantly recovered, a neutral expression taking over.

“That’s a lot to think about. It’s still a little ways away, can I think about it?” Hoseok responded carefully, his hands coming up to rub his lean biceps.

“Think about it as long as you need. Unless you actually want to go to a club, I’ll have to book that ASAP,” Y/N leaned back on her palms, praying that his event would go by quickly so her ass wouldn’t be scraped up any further by sitting on the rough concrete. “Gift ideas, too. You like clothes, but you have a bunch of those already… we could go to a sports game? Or we could go to a music festival, I know you’ve been interested in that. There’s one next month here in Boston, I heard The Foo Fighters are headlining one of the days.”

“Y/N, that’s a lot to give a guy to think about before he has to perform athletically,” Hoseok whined, but Y/N could see embarrassment plain as day in his mocha eyes. “I’ll let you know, alright? Whatever you do for my birthday will be more than enough, though, without a doubt.”

Mouth open to reply, Y/N was cut off by a whistle blowing, Hoseok nimbly hopping to his feet, his cheeky, gorgeous grin back in place. He looked like a young god in his uniform, full of life and vigor, one that governed over the sun and daylight. Before she could speak, Hoseok used his hybrid swiftness to bend forward, pressing a light kiss to Y/N’s forehead at lightning speed.

“Wish me luck, my darling! Order some egg rolls for Jinnie while you’re at it, too, alright?” Hoseok winked, whistled his trademark, and jogged off towards the starting line, leaving Y/N wooden and staring after him.

Of course, Hoseok ended up winning– he had a streak, at that point, and was considered the star of the team, especially for his particular event. It was a shame, truly, that the rest of her hybrids didn’t want to be there to support the fox hybrid– but Y/N supposed with the near-weekly meets, it interfered with their own interests and hobbies. Besides, Y/N never missed a track meet, a basketball game, or a photography expo. Hell, if there were oral reports during her mother’s book club, she’d be there an hour in advance to hear whatever Seokjin and Namjoon had to say about a book she had never read.

The next day, Wednesday, Y/N was beat from work, after Judy had her totally rearrange the store’s inventory for the spring. There was enough leftover Chinese food for her and the hybrids to pick at for dinner over a marathon of Curb Your Enthusiasm, and by the time she dragged herself to bed, her eyes were nearly crossed. The only thing that prevented her from drooling into her pillow immediately was the sound of her phone chiming on her nightstand, Y/N grumbling and blindly reaching for it, tapping on the text notification.

Yoongi 👼🏻: can’t sleep : (

Y/N: sorry, angel 😭 something wrong? Need some tea?

Yoongi 👼🏻: no, just u

Yoongi 👼🏻: come up, stay with me?

Suddenly wide awake, Y/N sat up in bed like she was electrocuted, her heart hammering in her chest. Bunching her quilt up in her fists, she was torn– there was nothing she wanted more than to sleep with Yoongi, but she dreaded the thought of sneaking out of his room in the morning and stumbling into Seokjin, Taehyung, or Jeongguk on the second floor.

“Fuck it. We’re going with Alice’s plan,” Y/N muttered to herself, and as if on autopilot, she made her way to the second floor miraculously without turning on any lights.

Yoongi’s door was ajar, and it appeared that he was the only one still awake, lamplight only coming from his room, fortunately. Promptly, she slipped inside, chest rumbling in satisfaction when Yoongi’s scent filled her senses powerfully.

“That was fast for a little human,” Yoongi emerged from his bathroom, Y/N trying not to drool out of the side of her mouth with his bare chest on display. His sweats were slung low on his narrow hips, spotted tail curled around one of his legs, and Y/N suddenly felt exposed in her own tank-and-shorts pajama set.

“Do you want me to stay or not,” Y/N hissed, hands on her hips. Yoongi rolled his eyes, tongue poking into his cheek. The leopard hybrid shuffled over to his bed, dramatically collapsing onto it, his arms behind his head with a smirk. “Are you trying to smize your way out of a smartass remark?”

Y/N swallowed, her throat completely parched, dragging her eyes over his strong arms; the veins mapping his forearms, the pink tint to his bent elbows, the dark hair of his armpits. Briefly, Y/N internally cursed Yoongi for making her so whipped for him, she was attracted to armpits.

“Is it working? Smells like it is,” Yoongi lifted a brow, tongue swiping over his lower lip and a free hand reaching up to fiddle with the silver chain around his neck. “Come here.”

“Yoongi. We’re just sleeping. You have a game tomorrow,” Y/N warned, though she lowered her knees to his mattress, crawling up the length of if so she could lay beside him. “Don’t seduce me.”

“Speak for yourself,” Yoongi accused, his eyes darkening as he watched her climb to his side. “Miss you.”

Y/N hummed, rolling onto her side, sticking her face into Yoongi’s neck, breathing in his cologne. Automatically, Yoongi began to purr, using one of his hands to grasp onto Y/N’s thigh, hooking it over his body. Her skin tingled where he touched her, especially when he began to trace shapes over her thigh, just below the hem of her shorts.

“Miss you too,” Y/N mumbled into his neck, planting a gentle kiss on the tender skin, Yoongi shivering beneath her. Already, her eyes felt heavy, tangled up with her lover, his soothing purrs like a sweet lullaby. “Turn off the light. Early morning.”

Grunting, Yoongi yanked on the chain to his lamp, plunging the room into darkness, Y/N sighing happily when he pulled his quilt up over the two of them. Y/N rested her palm over Yoongi’s heart, the steady beats of it beneath her touch comforting.

“Love you, baby,” Y/N whispered into the darkness, Yoongi’s tail wrapping around her waist, and she could tell he was already slipping into unconsciousness by the way he murmured the same sentiment back, slurred and heavy.

The next morning, Y/N pretty much had to push Yoongi off of her, his body on top of hers, cheek squished against her chest, his twitching ears tickling under her chin. He groaned and complained when she rubbed his back to wake him, and Y/N fought the urge to simply fall back asleep with him on top of her.

“Come on, you big kitty, gotta have some breakfast before the game,” Y/N wheezed as she managed to roll him onto his side, his long hair sticking up in the back. His eyes were still shut as he stumbled out of bed, making Y/N snort into her palm. Usually, Yoongi was one of the first hybrids up in the morning, but Y/N had never seen him before his first cup of coffee. “I’ll make something for you while you get ready.”

Yoongi frowned, not wanting to part with her yet, but she left his room with a grin as he shrugged on his jersey with a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth. No one else appeared to be up yet, all of the bedroom doors on the second floor still shut, so Y/N was able to tip-toe down the creaky staircase without a confrontation.

After a quick breakfast of scrambled eggs and toast, Y/N was writing a brief note to tell the others where her and Yoongi were that morning, they were off to the rec center, Y/N letting Yoongi drive there. The weather was cold and damp, but at least there wasn’t any snow coming down from the sky on their drive in, but Y/N barely felt the chill with Yoongi’s hand on her knee while he drove.

It wasn’t her first time in the rec center’s indoor gym, the floors buffed to a blinding shine and wooden bleachers surrounding the court, but because it was a new season, she felt like it was a different place. Once Y/N tied up Yoongi’s hair and pressed a kiss to his cheek, he was off to warm up with his teammates, and Y/N found a spot on the bleachers to watch the game. One eye on her leopard hybrid, she fumbled for her phone, which was buzzing away in her pocket. It was a notification of a reminder– in three days time, Valentine’s day, was the cooking class with Seokjin. Smiling a bit wistfully, she screenshotted the reminder, sending it to Seokjin over text.

Y/N: excited for our class!!

Seokjinnie 🌸: me too ≽^•⩊•^≼

Y/N: cute emoji omg! Is that supposed to be u?

Seokjinnie 🌸: ᡣ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶𐭩 ♡

Y/N flinched when Yoongi’s coach blew her whistle aggressively, promptly setting down her phone and getting ready to watch Yoongi play. He dropped into total concentration, listening to his coach with his lip tucked between his teeth, before getting into position and watching the coaches to a coin flip. She was getting lost in checking him out when she was rudely interrupted by someone saying his name– several feet from beside her.

“Number 54? Yeah, his name is Yoongi,” a high-pitched, girlish voice declared to her friend, and Y/N knew that she was gawking at them, but she wanted to know how she knew her leopard hybrid’s name. “Isn’t he hot?”

Y/N grit her teeth, realizing the two girls were actually hybrids, dressed in tennis skirts and both with canine sets of ears. Y/N recognized the uniforms they were wearing, belonging to the rec center’s tennis team, which means it was likely that they had seen Yoongi around before. Instantly, jealousy bloomed in her gut, and she had to tear her eyes from the two of them, fidgeting in her seat. She was pretty sure neither of the girls had noticed her staring at them, but she didn’t want to get caught, so she chose to discreetly eavesdrop instead.

“He’s super hot. Like a rockstar or something,” the second girl, the one with darker hair, agreed. “I heard he’s like the best player on the team.”

“For sure, that’s what Trixie said. She used to watch the basketball team practices last season just to see him play.”

Now, Y/N was absolutely positive she was filling the gym with the acrid scent of jealousy, but if the girls noticed, neither of them even looked in her direction. Y/N wasn’t stupid or blind, she knew how gorgeous and talented Yoongi was, but it was never fun to hear others fawn over one’s boyfriend. Gripping the bleachers tightly, Y/N tuned the hybrid girls out, focusing on Yoongi, who had already stolen possession of the ball.

Luckily, the game became a nail-biter, enough to distract her from the girls beside her. Y/N’s throat was hoarse from hollering Yoongi’s name, and she managed to get a pretty decent video of him scoring– by the end of the game, Y/N could barely speak, but Yoongi’s team had won. Before she could launch herself onto the court to give him a hug, he was pulled away by his teammates, who were thumping him on his back and pushing him towards the locker room. This made Y/N pout, but she knew that Yoongi would want to take a shower before they hit the road, so she busied herself on the phone, ignoring the giggles of the two hybrids beside her.

Hoseok 🦊: heads up, darling

Hoseok 🦊: we’re all heading out, taking the car. Errands to run!

Y/N: errands???

Hoseok 🦊: ye, ghostbusters need some equipment. Jinnie wanted to make something for dinner so gotta go to the store. The bear needs to pick up his photos while we’re there, and we’re dragging Jimin along so he can spend time with beings that AREN’T horses

Y/N: okay, thanks for letting me know foxy

Y/N: have fun, be safe, and think about plans for your birthday, pls!

Hoseok 🦊: i’ll make a list :3

“Ready to go?” Yoongi approached her, his hair damp and his gym bag slung over his shoulder, his footsteps echoing in the near-empty room. When he was in front of her, a smirk on his face, the two girl hybrids stopped whispering, and Y/N knew that they were checking him out, and she didn’t like that one bit.

Pocketing her phone, she recalled her earlier jealousy, and apparently catching him off-guard, Y/N launched forward, jumping up into his arms with an oof coming from the back of his throat. Wrapping her legs around his waist, Y/N held him tightly, hiding her face in his neck.

“Whoa, I didn’t win the NBA finals,” Yoongi chuckled, using one arm around her lower back to keep her supported, his chest vibrating with purrs. “Sweetheart–”

She cut him off, cupping his face urgently, descending her lips on his in a powerful kiss. He made a feline noise of surprise, his mouth parting, and Y/N took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, trying to inject every ounce of passion she had into it. After a split second, Yoongi recovered, kissing her back, his arm tightening its hold on her. Not wanting to draw it out too much, her jealousy melting into sheepishness, she broke away with one last peck to his lower lip, Yoongi’s eyes full of surprise and delight.

“What was that for?” Yoongi asked, breathlessly, Y/N giggling like a schoolgirl as he lowered her back to the ground.

“What? I can’t kiss my man?” Y/N replied, parroting his sarcastic remark he had once made in front of Taehyung. Yoongi blinked, stunned out of a response, Y/N tucking a lock of hair behind his ear before tangling one of her hands with his. “Let’s go home, angel.”

Y/N didn’t even look at the two girls that were gaping at the pair of them, but she knew that they were so caught off guard, they forgot to “congratulate number 54 when he comes out of the locker room”. Smugly, she left the gym with Yoongi on her arm, and she realized once they got to the car: Yoongi didn’t even notice those two girls, his attention had been on her completely.

“Where’s the other car?” Yoongi frowned, pulling into the driveway carefully, never once letting go of Y/N’s hand.

“Hoseok took it out with everyone to run some errands. On the bright side, I don’t think either of us will have to cook dinner, Seokjin wants to make something tonight,” Y/N hopped out of the car, suddenly struck by the fact that the two of them were alone, which had her pulse speeding up.

“Ah. Giving us space,” Yoongi read her mind, chuckling. She stuck her tongue out at him while his back was turned, dragging his gym bag out of the backseat, and ditched him in the driveway to unlock the front door.

Y/N headed straight for the kitchen for a glass of water, lamenting the fact that it was still too early for a glass of wine. Bouncing around in her skull were not only images of Yoongi jogging up and down the court, commanding the respect and admiration of his teammates, but the sounds of the two hybrid girls gushing over him. Embarrassingly, Y/N felt her jealousy return, hardly noticing Yoongi in the foyer as she stomped up the stairs, scooping up his gym bag as she went. She thought perhaps doing something as mundane and mind-numbing as a load of laundry would help her get a grip.

Grumbling, she tossed Yoongi’s sweaty uniform into the wash along with Hoseok’s, adding a few more articles of the boy’s clothes from the mountain of dirty laundry in the corner of the little room. Eyes glazed over as she tossed laundry beads into the machine, she stared at the little chart taped to the wall, the one that she and Seokjin had created so laundry duty was tackled by a different housemate every day.

“What’s the matter?” Yoongi startled her in the doorway to the laundry room, making her whack a knee against the dryer with a cry.

“Nothing,” Y/N composed an innocent expression on her face, folding a pair of Jimin’s jeans and stacking them on the shelf.

“Y/N,” Yoongi’s voice had a warning tone to it, Y/N cursing the hybrid ability to sniff out deceit. “You were fine just a second ago.”

“Why don’t you just take a whiff and guess,” Y/N grouched, Yoongi’s hazel eyes flashing. Without another word, Yoongi was pulling Y/N out of the laundry room with a tsk and a finger hooked in the pocket of her leggings.

“Fine,” Yoongi growled, pushing her against the wall in the hallway, pressing a knee between her legs and keeping her pinned with a hand flat on her hip. His face was in the crook of her neck, Y/N growing stiff as she felt his eyelashes brush her skin. “Ticked off. Insecure.”

Heart falling to her ass, Y/N squirmed against the wall, trying to get away from the leopard hybrid, humiliated beyond belief. Served her right for challenging a predatory male hybrid, in hindsight.

“Oh. Jealous,” Yoongi froze, drawing away from her throat, staring Y/N dead in the eye. “Why are you jealous, baby?”

Swallowing, Y/N shook her head, desperate to deny the accusation, but it was too late. She couldn’t weasel her way out of that situation, not with him pinning her down. Heart pounding in her chest, she shook her head.

“It’s nothing, Yoongi. Just forget it, I’m being stupid,” Y/N attempted to diffuse the situation, furious with herself that she had potentially spoiled the rare alone time that the two of them had.

“Is this about those girls sitting next to you at the game?” Yoongi asked incredulously, Y/N’s eyes widening a fraction. “Uh-huh. That’s a yes.”

“It’s dumb, but I can’t help it,” Y/N broke down with a whine, already feeling pitiful enough. “They were talking about how hot you are and how you’re the best player… ugh, it just triggered me I guess, you’re mine and I–”

Her words were stuffed back down her throat, because Yoongi’s mouth was on hers, hot and desperate, the force of the kiss causing her head to bump into the wall behind her. The hand that was on her hip moved, a forefinger and thumb pinching her chin to keep her in place, Yoongi already licking into her mouth with borderline abandon. Wide eyes slipping shut, Y/N released a ragged moan, her hands scrabbling to get a grip on his hoodie. Cocking his head, Yoongi bit down harshly on her lower lip, pressing his hips into Y/N’s before breaking away, his chest heaving.

“How could you think,” Yoongi began, interrupting himself by giving her another swift kiss, his eyes lidded. “That I’d even look at anyone but you?”

Y/N couldn’t respond; she was too distracted by Yoongi’s hand under her shirt, tracking a path up her abdomen, and his plush lips suckling the skin under her jaw. Gasping, she let go of his hoodie, hands pressing to the wall behind her, heat flooding through her system.

“If anyone should be jealous, it’s the other poor fucks who live with us,” Yoongi added roughly, bending to get a hold of her thighs, hoisting Y/N up into his arms, using his sharp incisors to nip at her collarbone. “They haven’t heard the noises you can make, haven’t tasted you…”

Y/N felt her head spinning as Yoongi carried her down the hallway, fisting a chunk of his long, inky hair tightly, the sound of Yoongi kicking his bedroom door open making her go limp in his arms.

Y/N yelped when Yoongi let her go, all but tossing her onto his bed, standing before her like a predator stalking its prey. In a wild turn of events, they both became possessed by lust, Y/N already feeling her core throb against the material of her underwear. Yoongi had a filthy mouth, she was already aware of that, but when he used it against her– she swore nothing was sexier.

“Don’t you know how I feel about you?” Yoongi rid himself of his hoodie, tossing it carelessly to the floor, swinging a knee over the mattress to cage Y/N beneath him. Y/N could only stare up at her beautiful leopard hybrid, his ears twitching with agitation, his silver chain dangling in front of her face. “Hmm? Love?”

“Y-yoongi,” Y/N breathed, overwhelmed. She reached up for him, hooking her hands around his neck, reveling in the quiet groan he made when she brought him down for a kiss, this one sweeter, more full of meaning, than the desperate lip-lock in the hallway.

“There’s my girl,” Yoongi murmured between kisses, probably smelling the love and affection she had for him rolling off of her in waves. Seizing the moment while he was lax above her, Y/N’s hands shot out, landing on his chest, sending the leopard hybrid sideways and onto his back, Y/N straddling his lap with a doped-up grin. “Fuck.”

Snickering, Y/N squirmed on his lap, watching his eyes roll back into his skull, his hands still on her outer thighs. Y/N couldn’t believe that she was as turned on as she was, trailing her fingertips over the smooth skin of Yoongi’s flushed chest, and further, she felt satisfaction fill her with the hardness she felt beneath her hips. Yoongi’s breath caught as one of her thumbs brushed over a nipple, his pupils dilating with pure want. Unable to help herself, she ducked down, mouthing at his chest, and experimentally, she grazed her lips over his nipple, Yoongi’s hips bucking up into hers with the action.

“Baby,” Yoongi’s voice came out strained, his hands squeezing her thighs painfully, one of them moving to tug on the back of her shirt, Y/N busy kissing a trail down his sternum.

“Yoongi,” Y/N returned, tracing the lines of his toned obliques, teeth scraping against his left pec.

Getting the hint once Yoongi yanked at her shirt once more, his other hand bruising the skin of her thigh, Y/N sat up, crossing her arms and pulling the material off of her torso, tossing it aside. She wasn’t exactly expecting to be in that position with Yoongi that afternoon, so regretfully, she was wearing a simple black bra, but Yoongi appreciated it with widened eyes nonetheless.

“Kiss me,” Yoongi requested, breathlessly, his hands trailing from her thighs to her bare waist, eyes nearly emerald with how much they had darkened. Not daring to disobey, Y/N fell forward, whimpering at the sensation of their torsos pressed together, cupping his jaw and giving him the kiss he asked for.

Not knowing where Yoongi ended and she began, she felt their legs tangling, Yoongi’s rough, jean-clad hips scraping against the soft material of her leggings, which were truthfully starting to become a little damp. Yoongi kissed the breath from her lungs, his tongue sensually rolling against hers, his purring chest pressed right up against hers.

“God, I–” Yoongi ground out, his form tensing beneath her when Y/N traced her tongue up the side of his neck, the taste of his sweat sweet on her tongue. “Fuck. Fuckin’ love you.”

“Love you more,” Y/N countered, directly in his ear, nipping at the shell of it, shuddering when his hands slid up her back, fingertips wiggling beneath the strap of her bra. With that statement, Yoongi grunted sharply, and before Y/N’s brain could process it, the world turned upside-down, the wind knocked from her lungs as she found herself underneath Yoongi again.

“None of that,” Yoongi smirked at her bewilderment, using a large hand to press over her mouth, his free hand ghosting over the center of her chest. A primal sort of glint took over his feline eyes, Y/N automatically opening her mouth to respond. Unfortunately, Yoongi was a step ahead of her. “Uh-uh.”

Y/N’s lips were pried open, two of Yoongi’s long, slender fingers pressing against her tongue. Two could play at that game, Y/N thought, her tongue swirling around the digits, hollowing out her cheeks. Frowning, Yoongi watched her expression grow coy, her legs wrapping around his waist.

“Smart mouth, should keep it filled,” Yoongi muttered acidically, pressing the pads of his fingertips more harshly into Y/N’s tongue, a tiny gagging sound coming from the back of her throat, making the tips of her ears burn. “Let’s get this off, huh, sweetheart?”

Unable to respond with his fingers stuffed in her mouth, Y/N watched helplessly as Yoongi slid a hand behind her back, unclasping her bra and pulling it off with a dark chuckle. One day, Y/N would learn not to provoke a hybrid, but honestly, the consequences didn’t seem to be so bad.

Finally pulling his saliva-slickened fingers from her mouth, Yoongi helped Y/N out of her bra, absently pushing the garment to the side so he could get a good look at her chest, a hand resting over her throat, feeling her pulse flutter erratically. Desperately, she was trying to pull him back down to her mouth with tugs to his belt loops, but Yoongi ignored her silent plea, both hands cupping her chest. Y/N arched into his touch with a soft cry, bringing his face down to kiss between her breasts, and in retaliation for earlier, used the rough pads of his thumbs to outline circles over her nipples.

“Hnngh,” Y/N winced, so sensitive his gentle touch was almost painful, Yoongi humming as he toyed with her chest, kneading the soft flesh in his hands, pinching one of her buds between his fingertips and pulling, rewarded by a heavy moan from Y/N. “Oh, b-babyy–”

Growing frustrated with the remaining barriers between himself and Y/N, Yoongi’s touch migrated to the waistband of Y/N’s leggings, using his strength to strip the article of clothing from her body, nearly passing out once he realized she wasn’t wearing panties beneath, her entire body bare beneath him.

“What are you doing to me,” Yoongi groaned, his jeans starting to choke the life out of his cock, and not in a good way. “Shit…”

“Need… n-need you,” was all Y/N could hiccup, completely exposed for him, but not feeling a single semblance of embarrassment about that. Tail curling behind him in mesmerizing shapes, Y/N gripped at his solid biceps pleafully.

“Needy thing,” Yoongi commented, sloppily kissing over the swell of her breast, enjoying the sounds of her helpless mewls. “God, I can smell you.”

Clumsily, Y/N tugged the zipper of Yoongi’s jeans down, yanking the fabric halfway down his legs, her breath coming out in pants as Yoongi laved his tongue over her nipple indulgently, hardly noticing she was trying to strip him. Gasping when he took the bud into his mouth, sucking and scraping his teeth over the sensitive flesh, Y/N felt her thighs get tacky with moisture, impossibly turned on and wanting.

“Please, Yoongi, please. Fuck me,” Y/N wasn’t above begging at that point, far past the point of no return, Yoongi distractedly shucking off his jeans and slotting himself between Y/N’s parted legs. The weight of his hips against her bare core had her clenching around nothing, and she arched upwards to seek out the hardness in his boxers eagerly for any kind of friction.

Yoongi simply hummed at her request, releasing her nipple with a lewd pop, one of his hands tracing over her hip bone before he mercifully ghosted his digits over her dewy sex, a low hiss coming from the back of his throat when he realized how wet she was.

“Always so fuckin’ wet,” Yoongi teased, batting her hand away when she reached for his wrist, a drenched forefinger swiping through her folds. “All for me?”

“Uh-huh,” Y/N canted her hips upwards, chasing his touch, whining thinly when he just missed grazing her clit. “Please. Want you, want you inside of m-me.”

“Wanna taste you first,” Yoongi smirked devilishly, Y/N beginning to protest, just wanting to feel him, but he moved too quickly, and all Y/N could do was sink her hands into his long tresses, his face now eye-level with her cunt. “All of this, and I’ve hardly done anything.”

Too caught up at staring at his fucked-out expression, Y/N didn’t have time to feel embarrassed, Yoongi using his strong grip to maneuver her legs over his shoulders, making himself comfortable between her legs. Whether or not he noticed that her thighs were coated in her slick was beyond Y/N, and due to the position he had manhandled her into, she couldn’t close her legs to hide the evidence of her overwhelming arousal.

Transfixed, Yoongi’s touch returned to her pussy, biting his lip when more wetness leaked out of her when his thumb brushed over her clit. She was so sensitive, responsive, tiny cries of pure want filling his ears, and it drove him absolutely crazy, paired with the scent of her lust. Wasting no more time, he locked eyes, her pupils blown out, eyebrows pinched, and kissed right above the hood of her clit, chuckling when her hips jerked in consequence. With a deft lick, Yoongi dragged his tongue through her folds, feeling Y/N’s legs shaking over his shoulders, a wail leaving her throat.

Y/N couldn’t help her spine from contorting off the mattress, yanking on Yoongi’s hair sharply, a muffled grunt coming from his lips as he wrapped them around her clit, humming lightly and making Y/N see stars. It was almost too much to bear, Yoongi’s sinful tongue dipping into her entrance, his forearm keeping her hips pinned down. Alarmingly, Y/N felt herself already hurtling towards her release, Yoongi’s mouth on her paired with the unbroken eye contact had her stomach tightening quickly.

“Yoongi,” Y/N whined, pressing herself into his face desperately, cheeks on fire when he raised an eyebrow, using the flat of his tongue to collect all of the wetness that had gathered between her legs, the erotic visual making her eyes roll shut. “Ah!”

Yoongi paused, assessing the mess he made of her, using a free hand to stroke through her folds, Y/N begging for more, for anything, and Yoongi didn’t want to tease her too much, so with one last breathy please, Yoongi sunk a finger into her cunt. Cursing at the tightness, he curled his finger, attempting to open her up a little bit, a second digit joining the first, Y/N writhing in his grip.

“Squeezin’ me, baby, are you gonna cum already?” Yoongi taunted, feeling her clamp down onto his fingers even tighter, her lip bitten raw as she cried out his name. “That’s it, honey.”

“Yoongi, want you,” Y/N managed to gasp, gripping the wrist that was between her legs, halting his movements. “Please, now, want you.”

“Yeah? Want me to fuck you?” Yoongi asked softly, pulling his fingers from her cunt, sliding the coated digits into his mouth, his free hand moving to the hemline of his boxers, Y/N’s eyes immediately dropping to the bulge beneath the fabric, her mouth watering. “Turn over.”

Blinking, Y/N shakily scooched up the bed, rolling onto her front, hearing Yoongi shuffle forward on his knees, his boxers tossed on the floor, Y/N turning her head slightly to get a good look at him, his sharp teeth prodding at his fleshy lower lip. Sighing blissfully when his hands caressed her hips gently, she squealed when he dragged them up, using his other hand to reach for a pillow, placing it underneath her, arranging her limbs so she was resting comfortably. Cheeks burning, she felt the pillow beneath her hips and lower abdomen, her ass on display as she arched her spine, leaning on her forearms.

“Look at you, waiting so patiently,” Yoongi’s touch returned, his palms landing heavily on her ass, making her shudder and keen, opening her mouth to tell him to hurry up. Before she could, however, Yoongi spoke again. “Ready, baby?”

“Please,” Y/N wiggled her hips, hoping to tempt him into picking up the pace, feeling sweat slip down her spine. She sounded wrecked, eager, and Yoongi groaned, holding the base of his cock in one hand, the other squeezing one of her cheeks.

Shaky breath rounding out into a moan, she felt him press against her weeping sex, running the tip through her folds teasingly, his own breaths coming out in labored pants, slowly losing control as he ground against her. Gripping Yoongi’s sheets for dear life, she huffed in annoyance at his teasing, feeling wetness dribble down the inside of her thighs in anticipation. After what felt like minutes, Yoongi stopped messing around, lining himself up, using a palm splayed across Y/N’s lower back as leverage and finally pushed in, only an inch or two, Y/N instantly clenching down on him with a broken whimper.

“Holy fuck,” Yoongi grunted, moving as slowly as he could, and when his pelvis was flush with her ass, he weakly collapsed on top of her, bracing a hand beside her head. Y/N felt her walls fluttering around his generous length and girth frantically, the position she was in making him feel like he was in her guts, and she was hardly aware of the pathetic sounds spilling from her mouth. “This pussy…”

“F-full,” Y/N stuttered, Yoongi’s breath on the back of her neck as he let her get used to the feeling, grazing his teeth along the junction of her shoulder and throat. “Hnngh–”

“Yeah? Stuffed full of me?” Yoongi’s voice was dark, dulcet, and in her ear, and Yoongi was all Y/N could feel– pressed against her back, scent clinging to the sheets, cock buried in her pussy. “Fuck. Stop clenching.”

“C-can’t help it,” Y/N replied, Yoongi wrapping his hand around her waist, giving his hips an experimental roll, Y/N choking on an intake of air with the movement. “Oh, d-don’t stop–”

Moaning into her neck, Yoongi snapped his hips forward, setting a strong, almost punishing pace right away, unable to hold back, and wanting to fuck the jealousy out of her. Yoongi was always more fond of showing, rather than telling, anyways.

“I’m yours,” Yoongi mumbled into the skin over her shoulder blade, sucking a bruise into the flesh, the sounds of flesh hitting flesh filling his bedroom, Y/N’s voice scratchy from the constant mewls leaving her mouth. “Got that?”

“Nn– ah! Oh,” Y/N felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes, the support from the pillow beneath her adding even more pressure to the way he was pounding into her, even the fabric of the pillowcase adding friction against her clit in the most delicious way. “Mine!”

“That’s right,” Yoongi peeled himself from her back, adjusting his position so he could fuck into her with greater strength, gathering up the hair along the nape of her neck and wrapping it around his wrist. “All for you, baby. Say my name.”

“Yoongi, oh my g– fuck, gonna cum soon,” Y/N wailed, the way he was tugging her hair back making her scalp smart, but between the pain and the pleasure, Y/N was nearly careening off the edge of sanity. “Please.”

“Please, what?” Yoongi spat through his teeth, not letting up on the pace one bit, kneading the flesh of her asscheek. “You’ve already got my cock, you need more?”

Contrary to his taunts, Yoongi gave her more, reaching underneath, using a forefinger to rub circles around her clit, Y/N’s vision going white as she came without warning, clamping down on Yoongi so hard he swore colorfully, hips stuttering against her ass as she writhed from beneath him. He let go of her hair, kissing down the length of her spine, helping her through her orgasm as best he could while keeping up the swift pace of his thrusts.

“Can you take a bit more, love?” Yoongi soothed a hand down her back, her body shivering with the aftershocks of her orgasm, nodding dazedly as she pressed her ass backwards into Yoongi. “Come here, roll over. Wanna see your face.”

Y/N was boneless, but Yoongi helped her flip over, tossing the pillow to the side. She whined when his cock slipped from her, but Yoongi was quick to remedy that, pushing back in as soon as her limp arms looped around his neck. Groaning at the new angle, Yoongi kept his thrusts slow, punctuated by a light grind to the spongy tissue of her G-spot, Y/N dissolving into a complete mess. The mood turned sensual, Yoongi leaning down to press his lips to hers, and even if Y/N wasn’t a hybrid, she could sense his love for her by the way he held the side of her face tenderly. Tucking hair behind his ear, Y/N crossed her ankles behind his back, feeling the way his cock throbbed inside of her– he must have been getting close.

“Come, Yoongi,” Y/N pressed her forehead to her lover’s, raking her nails down his chest lightly. “Wanna feel you come for me.”

“Y/N,” Yoongi gasped, Y/N feeling her gut tighten once again when he hit a sweet spot inside of her, and after two more strokes, she was coming again, gasping and moaning into the leopard hybrid’s mouth. “I–”

Without warning, Yoongi stilled, his mouth on her collarbone, teeth sinking into the flesh, heightening the bliss of her orgasm. She felt him spilling inside of her, sweet, filthy nothings falling from his lips as he came, tongue swiping over the bite he had given her absently. Hazy from the scenting, she let Yoongi roll the two of them onto their sides, his cock still nestled between her walls, the leopard hybrid cleaning up the wound on her neck in a way that was more primal, feline, than ever, his chest rumbling with loud purrs.

Limbs like jelly, Y/N closed her eyes, melting into Yoongi’s sheets as his tongue dragged over her neck lazily, the post-fuck and post-scenting haze having her so lax, she hardly noticed the mixture of their releases rolling down her thighs. She didn’t have enough energy to say anything, simply clinging to him like a baby kangaroo, fingers gliding along his sweat-dampened back.

“Still jealous?” Yoongi broke the content silence, tracing shapes along her ribcage lovingly, his purrs unbroken and strong.

“No,” Y/N replied meekly, hiding her face in his collarbones, suddenly embarrassed she entertained any feelings of envy at all.

“I know, can’t smell it anymore,” Yoongi snickered, Y/N rolling her eyes at the fact that he was back to his sarcastic, deadpan self. “Guess I just had to fuck it out of you.”

“You’re so vulgar,” Y/N lightly shoved his chest away, wincing when she felt him pull out of her, and the sensation of his cum dribbling out of her. “I never would have thought.”

“Gotta keep you on your toes,” Yoongi retorted, kissing her forehead gently, his lips bent upwards in a tiny smile. “Wanna get cleaned up?”

“Mmm,” Y/N groaned noncommittally, knowing that walking would probably be an issue. “Not really.”

“I can carry you,” Yoongi’s laughter grew in volume, clearly enjoying that he had completely ruined her, squeezing the meat of her ass in one hand playfully.

“Fine,” Y/N pouted, not ready to break free from their post-coital bliss, but knowing that it would probably be wise to bathe and attempt to look normal before the other hybrids came home.

Yoongi carried her bridal-style into his bathroom, and Y/N leaned on his shoulder while the water heated up, enjoying his warmth and presence. Once in the shower, the leopard hybrid supported her, her back to his chest as the hot water beat down on their skin. Hooking his chin over her shoulder, his wet hair tickling her cheek, Y/N gripped the forearms he had wrapped around her middle, sighing.

“I love you,” Yoongi said quietly, planting a kiss on the bite he had given her.

Turning in his arms, Y/N chose to respond by leaning up, brushing her lips against his softly, hands winding around his neck as steam filled the shower.

“Hope you didn’t fill up too much on the toffee,” Y/N unbuckled her seatbelt, making sure the parking ticket for the garage she parked in was stuffed in her wallet.

“I didn’t! I skipped lunch, too,” Seokjin was hurrying out of the car, glancing around the parking garage curiously, correcting his stride to match Y/N’s, pulling his wool coat tightly around his body.

“Aw, you didn’t have to do that. You must be starving,” Y/N pouted, her fingertips twitching to hold his hand. It was Valentine’s Day, and most of the day had passed by uneventfully, but that evening, she and Seokjin traveled into the city for the cooking lesson.

“I just didn’t know how much we’d end up cooking, wanted to be prepared to stuff my face!” Seokjin joked, a merry smile on his face. After she had given him his Valentine that morning, it seemed that goofy, fond Seokjin was back, and he could finally smile at her with it actually reaching his eyes. Progress was progress, she supposed.

“I think we’re making three courses,” Y/N grinned as Seokjin pulled the door to the mall for her. He looked gorgeous, as always, in black slacks and a powder blue button down, his wavy hair swept off his forehead. “Three courses, three different wine tastings. I’m excited!”

Seokjin’s sleek black tail flicked behind him, sticking close to Y/N’s side as they navigated through Copley Place, and when she felt him growing nervous with the amount of people clogging up the narrow aisles of Eataly, she hooked her hand around his elbow, pulling him into her side for comfort.

Fortunately for Seokjin, the actual classroom where they were going to cook in was spacious, at the back of the market, and there were only a few other pairs of people taking the class with them. Seokjin appeared to be the only hybrid, however, and naturally every pair of eyes in the room was on him as he draped his coat on the rack by the door, his ears fluttering excitedly as he noticed the station that had a card with Y/N’s last name printed on it.

The instructor appeared to be an older Italian man, one with a thick accent and golden skin, greeting everybody happily. To Y/N’s relief, the instructor didn’t greet Seokjin any differently than anyone else, simply handing the jaguar hybrid two red-and-white striped aprons for them to wear.

“Today, we’ll be learning about the cuisine of Rome, and cooking some of my favorite dishes from all over Italy,” the man began once all of the students were in their aprons and standing eagerly behind their stations. Y/N noticed that most of the people in the class were older, perhaps married, couples, with one pair of college students in the back of the room. “We’ll be making a bruschetta, linguine alle vongole, and saltimbocca for our three courses, all paired with a lovely wine.”

Seokjin was nearly shaking with excitement beside her, checking out all of the dials on the stovetop, the raw ingredients in front of them, and the array of kitchen tools available for their use. He paid rapt attention to the man explaining the origins of the dishes they were going to prepare, his ears perked up. Once the little history lesson was over, the instructor walked them through the steps to make fresh pasta for the vongole, and she and Seokjin exchanged smug smirks– they both already knew how to make fresh pasta, and while some of the other couples were struggling to assemble the dough, her’s and Seokjin’s was plastic wrapped and chilling in the mini fridge already. Seokjin positively preened under the praise of the instructor, his neck turning red, and Y/N snorted and shook her head as she sliced through some tomatoes for the bruschetta topping.

Meanwhile, Seokjin handled the veal steaks for the saltimbocca, using a mallet to pound the meat to a certain thinness, and the first round of wine came around, the glass they were to nurse while they cooked. Here and there, Seokjin would crack a joke or two, corny as ever, but they made her choke on her wine and laughter.

“When asked about his cooking skills, the sage replied, ‘I’m herbally gifted’,” Seokjin held up a sage leaf he was using toothpicks to attaching to the veal steaks, waving it in front of Y/N’s face with a goofy grin.

“Jin, stop, I’m gonna pee my pants,” Y/N whispered, cheeks sore from smiling so much. It had been a while since she spent such quality time with Seokjin, and she realized how much she missed him, with a painful twang of her heart.

Seokjin’s grin only grew wider, hand reaching up to ruffle Y/N’s hair affectionately, one of the first times he actually touched her since finding out about her and Yoongi. Delighted, Y/N took a happy sip of wine, getting back to work on the sauce for the vongole.

Once everything was cooked, chairs were brought out, along with the fruity pinot grigio to be paired with the bruschetta, all while the instructor answered questions about Italian cuisine, and told stories about his childhood in Rome.

“This is so good,” Seokjin sighed, munching on a piece of bruschetta, his orange eyes wide as he tasted all of the flavors. “We get the recipes after, right?”

“Yep! We can make this whole meal again for the others. I think Hoseok would really enjoy this, too,” Y/N clinked glasses with the older woman from the station behind her, Seokjin’s cheeks beginning to color with the alcohol, already.

“This is so much fun, Y/N. We should do this again,” Seokjin suddenly became serious, glancing around the room, before his eyes softened and he made eye contact with her again.

“Absolutely. I’ve missed spending time with you,” Y/N replied without hesitancy, Seokjin’s neck turning red again when she admitted that.

Looking away, their interaction was interrupted by the instructor telling them to finish off the sauce for the vongole, and Seokjin drained his wine glass urgently before hopping to his feet to turn on the burner.

After two more glasses of wine and two delicious entrees the two of them cooked, her and her jaguar hybrid were loopily weaving their way through the market with a packet of recipes, a bottle of wine Seokjin liked the most, and free Italian cookies in their arms. Seokjin, bolder now that he was tipsy, insisted on holding the bag with all of the items, and finally, he offered her a hand as they walked through the mall.

“Want to go for a little walk before we head back to the car?” Y/N asked, threading her fingers through his, Seokjin staring down at her through his eyelashes with that thoughtful expression she had seen on his face only once or twice before. Truthfully, she both wanted to spend a bit more alone time with Seokjin, and she felt like some cool nighttime air would sober her up enough to drive home confidently.

“Okay,” Seokjin squeezed her hand, following her down the escalator to the street outside of the mall, the sky already dark and the city lights keeping the streets illuminated.

Not too many people were out, everyone seemed to be having their romantic Valentine’s Day dinners in the multiple restaurants studding the sidewalks, and it was much too cold for a leisurely stroll for most people. Tummy full, she stuck close to Seokjin, who radiated heat like a furnace, and Y/N was grateful for the slight buzz from the wine that was keeping her warm as well. The two of them lapsed into a comfortable silence, only broken once or twice when Seokjin would ask her about a restaurant they would stroll by.

“Thank you for tonight,” Seokjin spoke out of the blue, letting Y/N hook her arm around his in an attempt to steal some of his body heat.

“You don’t have to thank me, honey, it was for your birthday!” Y/N insisted, reaching up to flick the dangling earrings that were threaded through his left earlobe– another birthday present from her. “I should thank you for letting me use the other ticket. I learned so much, got to hang out with you for a while, ate yummy food…”

Y/N paused, feeling cold and wet hit her forehead, stopping in front of an old church, the lights from inside making the colored stained glass glow and cast pretty hues over the sidewalk. Looking up, she made a soft noise of exclamation, clumps of snow falling from the sky. Letting go of Seokjin temporarily, she did a twirl, head craned skyways, admiring the way the snowflakes floated gently through the air. She didn’t realize Seokjin was repeating her name until his hand was on her shoulder, his lip tucked between his teeth.

“Ah, we can head back now. You’re probably freezing, huh?” Y/N held her hand out for him again, but this time, he didn’t take it.

“Y/N, I have something I want to tell you, but I’m not sure how you’ll take it,” Seokjin looked from her flushed face to the windows of the church, shades of blue, green, and red highlighting his features. A ball forming in the pit of her stomach, she dropped her outstretched hand, nervous about the seriousness of his tone, his whole voice going down a pitch.

“It’s okay, tell me,” Y/N, while nervous, was curious as well, freezing when Seokjin released a breathy exhale, gathering up her hands in one of his, the contact appearing to ease his nerves.

“I– I know you, um. You’re with Yoongi, you love him,” Seokjin swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing. Wine churning in her gut, she nodded, taken aback that that was the night he chose to first address the relationship. “And I’m happy for you, I am, Yoongi too. But…”

“It makes you uncomfortable?” Y/N murmured, heart beating painfully in her chest. Seokjin bit his lip again, shaking his head, but conflict flashed in his eyes.

“No. I mean, somewhat, yes,” Seokjin sucked his teeth, tugging her closer into his proximity.

“Is there a specific reason why, Seokjinnie?” Y/N would be heartbroken if Seokjin would push her away after such a wonderful night spent together, but she would deal with it if it came to that.

“I’m,” Seokjin swallowed thickly again, before squaring his shoulders with his ears flat to his head, lowering his face closer to Y/N’s like he was about to tell her a secret. “Because I’m in love with you, too.”

Taglist; @blancflms @grazysf @sbromp @jaxavance @sunderlight @ot7nem @mageprincess7 @wittyreader @drenix004 @mayla548 @skyys-universe @ddaeng-angmoh @trtlthts @exfolitae @kalala22 @xiusmarshmallow @bangtans-momma @zae007live @paigetj @singukieee @lilacdreams-00 @dreamerwasfound @ninjacups @osakis-gf @itwillbealways-d @xthefuckerysquaredx @momowantscats @molshole @gooooomz @uarmyhore @lopprhe @oopscoop @xicanacorpse @i-like-anime12 @hemziii @demarie04 @im-sinking-in-mud @talkyoongitome @bangtxnbxunch @primrose2507 @kihyunniesmonbebe @7evensin @lilmxchis @00ihatesnaku @neverthefirstchoice @missyoueverysingleday @cathy-1997 @prybts @doublebunv

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simpxxstan · 2 months ago

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cannn i request a bff! Wonwoo with lots of pining and emotional constipation pls 🤍 love ur writings

anon requested: hiii can i please request a f2l wonwoo trope? Luv ur writings<3

this is a part of my 550 followers event, but requests are now CLOSED.

genre: sugary fluff, gamer!wonwoo, high school au, friends to lovers.

word count: 6.9k words.

listening to his voice asmr audios and leftover while writing this- can't you tell i just love wonwoo's voice? he's just such a warm hug personified! pls note: i've combined two requests here because they're similar! thank you to both anons for requesting! i'm so sorry again for the delay T_T i rewrote this many times. i hope you like it!!

warnings: very shy reader, gaming references (likely to be inaccurate due to lack of personal experience, please excuse!).

it's the last year of your high school, and yet it doesn't feel like so. you may have turned 18 early this year, but it doesn't feel like the year you graduate from school and move on to a higher, more independent direction in life.

or perhaps you're just not mature enough. not ready enough to embrace adulthood. either way, the intense fear of what the future holds has you by the throat since the start of the year. it's not that you're trying to escape from responsibilities, but somehow it daunts you to no end that you'll have to leave this cocoon you've lived in all your life. step out of your comfort zone and into the real world.

perhaps it's not a maturity thing. perhaps it's just an introvert thing.

you're quite sure none of your classmates feel this scared of the future right now. most of them have their career goals defined, ready to sit for entrance examinations, or write applications to foreign universities. most of them have had experiences bordering on the edge of adulthood already- like their first kiss, their first date, their first relationship. most of them have already figured out where they see themselves three or four years from now- even if it not perfectly, it's brilliant that they even see themselves four years from now.

you? you don't even know if you'll be able to make it on time to the first day of class. it's literally the last year of school, and you've still not mastered the art of not getting late due to extreme social anxiety on the first day of class. somehow you rush into class, ankles burning from running through the campus, moments before the teacher arrives. you notice that there are only two seats left available in the class- one in the first bench, and another towards the back. you wonder if you should be sitting in the front to make a good impression on the teachers on your first day, but then your friends wave to you from the back, and your decision is made for you.

just as you finally settle down, your nerves easing out with the flowing conversation with your friends, the teacher walks into the classroom, creating pin-drop silence instantly, but she's not alone.

"good morning, class. welcome your new classmate for this year." on hearing her words, you look up from the new book your friend's been showing you.

the book almost drops from your hands.

"hello! my name is jeon wonwoo. nice to meet you all!"

in this moment, you're so, so glad you didn't choose to sit in the first bench. in this moment, you're so, so glad you always stick to your friends who generally do the talking for you whenever you're outside your tight-knit friend circle. in this moment, you're so, so glad you're the most ordinary-looking girl in the class.

because all of these ensure jeon wonwoo doesn't even spare a glance at you. and if you can keep yourself in check, he will not spare a glance at you for the rest of the eleven months of the school year. it's anyway just one year. if you keep out of his sight for long enough, he'll forget you exist.

as you walk home that evening, you wonder why must the universe be so cruel to you that it's now decided to make jeon wonwoo enter your class? wasn't it enough that he tormented you every day after beating you at games, that now you would have to see him daily in your immediate periphery? wasn't it enough that he'd already stolen your heart when you knew nothing of him except his voice, that now you would have to also know how devastatingly handsome he is in real life?

on reaching home, you slump down in your gaming chair and turn on your desktop.

2 messages from jeonwonubokdeongeori

you sigh before clicking the discord popup open, your annoyance increasing tenfold on reading the texts.

how was your first school day? going to a new school is so daunting T_T

daunting? with that face? with those charms? with that obvious intelligence sparkling in his eyes that no teacher can resist? what a liar. but at least he's telling you now that he's going to a new school. you can't ask him the name of the school because you don't want him to get curious about your school in return. so you keep it neutral.

i bet it wasn't as bad as mine lol wanna play and get the stress out?

wonwoo's message comes instantly, and you feel yourself melting. it does sound like such a tempting idea, especially with the way your body is still high-strung from all the social exposure and new worries of the final academic year. you want to say no- you want to start distancing yourself from him, you want to ensure your crush doesn't become serious. and yet, you can't keep yourself away from clicking on the yes button when he sends you a request to join a game.

seconds later, his voice rumbles in slowly through the other side of the game. his player is wearing a yellow outfit today, similar to your school uniform. "hey," it's a single syllable but it sends a shiver of comfort down your spine, and you can feel your body relax. it's online. he doesn't know it's you. it's just a game between friends.

"hi won," you voice is a soft whisper, almost afraid that he'll recognise you. you're sure he won't, because you've made sure he hasn't heard your voice throughout the day- but even if he does, he doesn't indicate it in any way.

he chuckles on the other end. "you sound so tired. you probably need sleep more than a game." "i've been drinking too much soda- no way i'm gonna sleep soon," you stifle a yawn to keep talking to him. "mhmm, soda's not good for you, princess." princess. you know it's not a nickname, or meant to be endearing. he's simply referring to your username, pretzel_princess, which you go by during games. three days ago, you'd wished you'd used your own name as your username, just so you can hear him say your name while playing, although princess sounds good enough. but in hindsight, it's been the best decision you've ever made.

"jeon wonwoo, are you just stalling the game?" you smirk, and you hope he hears it in your voice.

he does.

"well then, game on, princess."

after that, you can't keep your eyes away from wonwoo. the initial shock has now worn down- and suddenly the reality seems more stark in full HD. he's right here- literally ten seats away from you. in all likelihood, you could just whisper and he would hear your voice.

and identify you at once.

and yet, you can't keep your eyes off him. he seems so.... different in real life, and yet exactly the same. you start linking every tiny bit of character you've learned about him till now to his real self.

like how he's complained to you multiple times about his poor eyesight- and you've scolded him about his terrible gaming addiction and how he should stop immediately, only for him to laugh it off. you can see how thick his glasses are, and how he has to squint often even with the glasses- and you make a mental note of scolding him again tonight.

like how he doesn't like swimming during the physical education classes- instead opting for athletics. he's told you before he has a fear of drowning, and now you witness this with your own eyes too.

like how he's an introvert too- keeping mostly to himself, although everyone is trying to get a piece of him. with his looks and his natural charm, you can hardly blame the girls and the guys for swarming around him every day. although it's barely been a week since he's joined, he's already solidified a fanbase- people who are ready to give him homework, their lunchboxes and also their hearts. it's no surprise though- you're no different than them. you were just a tad bit more pathetic- at least they hadn't fallen for him after hearing just his voice.

it feels like you're leading a double life. you've never been more thankful for your introvertedness- perhaps the only time you've been thankful for it. but this is the only way to ensure wonwoo doesn't know who you are. you do your best to ensure your friends don't get curious about him, and even if they do talk to him, you stay away from the spot at that moment. it's even better because none of the teachers know you by your name (you've never given them reason to), hence no one in class draws attention to you. your friends call you by a nickname (not princess), so even if they're calling out for you from a distance, wonwoo could never realise it's you.

well. things are not as bad as you'd think they would be.

unless of course, one counts the worsening of your infatuation. it's already been a while since you've known each other as ... online best friends. well, you'd been gaming together on the same server for a year now, but it was only eight months since you'd dm-ed him, and initiated a conversation, ignoring your shaky hands. thankfully, he'd replied almost instantly- and that had sparked things off. too fast, you'd gone from strangers who game together occasionally to friends you share your feelings and thoughts with. wonwoo had been surprisingly easy to open up to. perhaps because he resonated with most of your experiences? with him being as introverted and shy as you see him now, you'd understand why. or perhaps because you'd always thought he would be just an online friend- a voice behind a screen. never more tangible than that. and there was a comfort in that. no fear of judgement. no insecurity about your looks. no worries about embarrassment. and even when you had your voice on, conversation had flown easily, and so had giggles and intimate moments.

you slam your head against the textbook you're reading as you remember that night when you'd messed up. of course, your crush was nothing new. you'd slowly and surely begun to develop feelings for the gentle-voiced gamer who had won his way into your heart with his gaming skills and the softness with which he treated you. like how he would immediately catch on to any exhaustion in your voice. how he'd remember the little details you told him about your daily life. how he'd remind you to sleep instead of playing another match, because you'd have to wake up early the next day. sometimes, with your headphones on and wonwoo's voice floating in, you'd escape from this real world, away from the fears of your life, into a world where it felt like you were sitting with him, on a swing, in a playground. and sometimes, your imaginary world took you to a rollercoaster, him holding your hand as you both screamed with the adrenaline rushing to your head. and eventually, your imagination would take you to a world where you'd picture a faceless wonwoo hugging you after a long day of studies, just as his words comforted you with the similar warmth of a hug.

well, faceless no more.

your face heats up as your mind strays to the thought of hugging wonwoo. knowing he was so much taller than you, and so beautifully built even in the hideous school uniform, his hugs would absolutely engulf you and drown you in his warmth. you shake your head as you focus on your book again. you shouldn't be daydreaming about your online best friend. not when you don't even have the guts to own up and face him in real life.

the next month is largely uneventful. the novelty of wonwoo's presence slowly wears off, although his fanbase does not. but you've grown smart at avoiding him. with your study pressure mounting up, you both have lesser time to play games anyway, but whenever you do, you're bound to lose your sleep. because after two hours of just you and him, your noise-cancelling headphones focusing on every breath he takes and curse he utters while playing, your mind feels like levitating. he frequents your dreams on those nights- and you dream about an alternate reality where you can sit next to him in the library and hear his gentle voice from up close instead of simply through your headphones. where his laugh shakes up your desk and you can actually see the beautiful smile you know he must have on his face whenever you crack a silly joke and he laughs for you. where you can solve his maths sums with him, after he complains about finding them too hard.

you know you're being stupid. you have your college entrances coming up really soon, and you should move on from this silly crush of yours when you're not even brave enough to do anything about it. but you simply can't distance yourself from jeon wonwoo.

"what are you thinking about, princess? you're very quiet these days." his question isn't probing, but caring. "it seems like there's a lot on your mind."

you sigh. "there is, but i can't tell you."

"no? wonwoo's upset on hearing that."

you double take on hearing that. "it's nothing serious. just silly worrying. i don't want to dump on you-" "you're not dumping anything on me. if you keep stuff from me, i'll feel even more helpless and sad." you try to understand if there's any hint of fakeness in his voice, but you cannot hear anything except the slow rumble of genuineness in his voice.

"i- i can't tell you, wonwoo."

"is it about me?"

"what? no. no, no. why would i be upset about you?"

"i don't know. why else would you hide things from me?"

"ummm-"

"i won't push you. but i really want to help. i like hearing you laugh often, princess."

he doesn't raise the issue again during that match, but his words linger in your mind for longer than they should. it ends up distracting you during the game, and he tsks into the microphone.

"i'm seriously going to abort this game if you don't tell me why you're playing so badly. i thought we were friends."

best friends, you remember telling wonwoo two months back. you're the closest thing to a best friend that i have, won. and he'd said it back, his voice shy, me too, princess. i'm so glad i found you.

"you're not going to let this go, will you?" your voice is vulnerable, as his caring words really seep into the layer beneath your skin. "if you want me to, i will."

"then i do want you to. i'll talk about it when i'm ready, wonwoo."

he sighs, and you feel the sound of his breath send a shudder through your spine.

"as you want, princess."

it's midterms week and you're neck-deep in assignments, when wonwoo's call request comes in. you don't think twice before accepting it, knowing he's a great study partner.

"hey! are you busy with exams?" "so right i am." "yeah lol, me too. 'tis the season, huh?" he chuckles, and you grin. if you consider the fact that it's almost the end of two months and wonwoo still doesn't know you, then it makes you feel ... kinda good on the inside. like you're in a detective movie. like you're in a spy film.

"my brother says he wants to meet you." you almost choke on your coffee when you ask him, "what?!" "yeah, he said that he's heard enough about you, now he wants to see if you exist at all." "you can just tell him i exist-" "he doesn't believe me. says that i'm too loser to have a sweet girl friend like you."

sweet girl friend.

pretty sure wonwoo doesn't intend it to sound like the way it does, but it does make your skin burn up with an unbearable blush instantly. all your sleepiness is gone instantly, his words acting quicker than coffee, and you sit upright.

"you're not a loser. and you have plenty of female friends, i'm sure." "no, and no. princess, i play games on my computer every day, barely have a social life, and haven't gone on a date with anyone in my seventeen years of existence. i don't think you understand my loser level."

"and your brother has done all of this?" "you bet. he has a girlfriend and he's just fifteen. seems kinda illegal to me." you laugh. "as long as he isn't crossing lines, it's not illegal i guess." "hmm true. the point is- we're really very different, my brother and i. and i admit i am a loser... in real life."

you coo at him, your voice becoming softer. you can't imagine him having confidence issues- not when you've seen how perfect he literally is. "i think you're just overthinking. firstly, gamers aren't losers. secondly, you do have a social life. you have me. and you have those other friends you game and hang out wit-" "yes but seungcheol and mingyu are also losers. seungcheol is literally in college but hasn't been able to get laid yet." wonwoo's dead-serious words make you burst out laughing, and he joins in.

"i think it's just because you're all shy. it's okay! you know i'm super shy too." there's a pause before he replies, and you almost think you've lost your internet connection. "i don't think you're as shy as me, though." "there's no comparative metric, won."

another pause. "maybe. but i wish i wasn't like this. you know, you and i live in the same city, but we've never even planned to meet up or anything."

your pulse flutters in your neck. "but that's the charm of online friendships! we connect so well, but just talking online is enough, isn't it?"

"yes... but don't you ever get curious?"

you're moments away from a meltdown. you want to confess your secret and run away from the desktop at the same time- because you're sure he's recognised you. but thankfully he replies before you do. "but then again, i wouldn't ever be able to face you because of how often you've beaten me in overwatch." and his laugh breaks the tension and you take a deep breath of relief. fuck. that was close.

"wonwoo, you were right when you'd told me you'll need some help in pre-calc. i understand that the curriculum in your previous school was slightly behind ours here, which is why your foundation is a bit weak. don't worry, smart boys like you catch up in no time." you'd barely paid attention to your math teacher's ramblings, eager to pack up your bag and leave for home. it's finally the end of the class day, and you're excited for the weekend. you also know wonwoo's birthday is tomorrow, and you've bought a new character for him on the game you're both obsessing on currently, and you can't wait to hear his excited, high-pitched giggle tonight when he receives his gift mid-match.

"y/n and seori, i want you to discuss amongst yourselves who would like to tutor wonwoo in his pre-calculus foundations for the rest of this term. you'll receive extra marks for this on my paper, so i request you to take this seriously."

your bag slips from your fingers, as you look up, an ashen look on your face. it's clear that your teacher wants you to take this up with the way she's got her eyes fixed on you even as seori has already stepped up to her. thankfully she speaks before you need to. "i'll do it, ma'am. y/n, i hope that's okay with you? i really need the extra marks," she whispers the last bit to you, and you let out a sigh of relief as you nod your approval. you look away from seori to see wonwoo's eyes on yours, and you panic for a moment. but there's no sign of recognition. just a mild curiosity and confusion flash in his pretty eyes, before you avert your eyes and walk out of the classroom.

it's probably a coincidence, you tell yourself as you walk back home, your heart still racing from the close escape you made mere minutes ago. it was bound to happen some time or the other, you console yourself, you're lucky to have avoided it for two entire months anyway. but as soon as you reach home and switch on your desktop, you see a notification flash.

4 messages from jeonwonubokdeongeori

what can he have to say? what if he has actually recognised you? you gulp, your palms sweaty as you click it open.

hey can we skip tonight's gaming session? i have a small gaming party with my friends tonight and then they'll be coming over for a sleepover

oh, must be a birthday celebration.

sorry if you were looking forward to it :(

you were looking forward to it. you've spent a solid bit of your savings from your pocket money to buy it for him, and you'd really looked forward to, well, hearing his reaction. but you wouldn't dream of barging into his plans.

ooh it's not a big deal at all! i hope you have fun, wonu <3

you see him come online instantly, and you're hit with panic. maybe you shouldn't have sent the heart. it was overstepping boundaries, wasn't it?

i'll make it up to you, princess ^^

god. he knows too damn well how to make your heart flutter.

or maybe you can come along and join the party? you already know seungcheol, right? it'll just be him and a couple of my other friends. jungkook and mingyu. they're really fun too hehe

the panic rises in your throat again. fuck. you remember exactly what happened the last time you joined a gaming party with wonwoo and seungcheol. and you've spent the entire last month trying to erase it from your memory, and if you could, really, from wonwoo's memory too. so you're pretty quick to turn him down.

nah i think i'll pass have fun tho!

and then you go offline to avoid spiralling into your thoughts, and get into studies. which is actually what you should be doing, instead of gaming with your crush anyway.

silence.

radio fucking silence.

there's just the pitter patter of the rain outside, but no replies from wonwoo.

i like hearing you laugh.

i'm glad i found you.

sweet girl friend.

it all feels like a lie when you stare for hours at the unseen, unread, unopened message that's staring back at you from your chat with wonwoo. it's almost night, one would think he could text back with a simple thank you after you'd spent half your pocket money on buying him the new character.

or maybe wonwoo is just like all the other boys. what did you even expect? that he'd be rolling over in gratitude after you buy him something he's been audibly craving for for weeks now? that he'd confess his love for you after you stupidly purchase something for him that has no real value?

get out of your damned imaginary world, y/n, you chide yourself mentally as you wipe the lone tear that has begun sliding down your cheek. but it doesn't make sense! after all these months of getting to know wonwoo, you simply can't believe it that he's this heartless that he won't even have the courtesy of replying back after almost an entire day of receiving the gift. and you know it's not an unwanted gift. and you also know wonwoo isn't the type to ghost you either! you'd think he's busy or caught up in something- but you can the little text next to his discord icon showing that he's been online today. then there's really no logical explanation left that can explain this kind of beha-

oh.

of course.

of course! he must have found out who you are. fuck. maybe during the delivery of the character, they must have shown him your email address or something to show them who's send him the gift. and that would be a total giveaway because your email address definitely contains your name. either he's put two and two together and matched princess with y/n, and naturally, instantly felt repulsed by you- hence the lack of response.

or.... (and this is honestly the worse option) he thinks you're just y/n who's sending him a birthday gift that miraculously coincides with something he really wants. oh my god. this really is much worse than the other alternative because now he thinks of you as a creep who can't even meet his eyes in class but must be stalking him and finding out about his gaming hobby.

another slow tear rolls down your cheek, and the phone drops from your hands and crashes down on the tiled floor, the screen cracking from side-to-side.

at this point, you should just drop out from school.

but of course you don't. monday comes round, and so does your period. you've never been more thankful for cramps before today. at least it saves you from the embarrassment of facing wonwoo. as you toss and turn in pain on your bed all day, trying fruitlessly to read your study material, your mind keeps going back to one face.

a single, delicately created face, with eyes that look alive. complete with a simple pair of metal glasses, shining against the spots of barely-there acne on two cherub cheeks.

you shake your head and dump your books on your lap. there's no point in this. it's a risk you've taken from the first day when you'd decided to hide from him instead of coming out as your true self. who knows, perhaps he wouldn't have rejected your friendship so blatantly then? instead, you try to sleep. maybe that'll help you feel refreshed.

but oh, you're not even left relieved in your sweet sleep. a single scene keeps replaying in your head as soon as you shut your eyes.

it was the first time you were in a live gaming party with voice unmuted. wonwoo, two of his friends, and two other friends from the common gaming server, smera and roy. he'd convinced you to switch on your mic because it was just friends who you trusted anyway. well, that was just the first mistake.

the second mistake had been, of course, to get comfortable enough with all of them to agree to play that silly truth and dare game. and then one thing had led to another, and a little bit of prodding from smera had ended up with you confessing that if there was anyone in this group who you'd kiss, it'd be wonwoo. if the mortification of that wasn't bad enough, smera had gone ahead and said that she'd even lowkey expected it. and within moments everyone else had forgotten your confession- it was as if they didn't even know how hard it had been to admit it- when rob confessed that he really want to kiss mingyu right now and the group started cheering.

the third mistake, and the worst one, had been staying on call with wonwoo after the party was over. "so you'd kiss me, huh?" he'd asked softly, his voice laced with a grin, as you'd blushed and thanked god he couldn't see you right now in your embarrassed live wire state. "among the others, yes. i don't know the others as well as i know you!" you'd rushed to explain, hoping your voice wasn't quivering as fast as your heartbeat. and then wonwoo had gone silent for a very long time, before saying, "and what if we knew each other outside this world, y/n? would you kiss me then?"

and then you hadn't been able to reply. you'd frozen in your spot, until wonwoo's shy laugh could be heard and he'd resumed the game.

you don't know if you could still reply today. perhaps it's the secret you'll hang for.

your excuse only lasts so long and eventually it's wednesday and you make your way out of bed. you've mentally lectured yourself enough times to know all the different things wonwoo might have to say to you and you've armed responses for most of them (although you think you're going to end up running away in almost all of them, forgetting your practiced response in the spur of the moment). your first class in mathematics, and you decide to arrive just a few minutes late so as to avoid any chance of conversation with wonwoo before class.

"oh y/n, you're finally here." your legs falter as you appear at the door of the classroom and find your teacher looking you straight in the eye. "sorry i'm late, ma'am!" "it's okay. i'd thought you'd be absent again." "i wasn't feeling well, ma'am, i'd mailed-" "yes yes i know," she nods her head impatiently. "it's good you came today. you'll have to start tutoring wonwoo from today itself. mid-terms are in two weeks, and i want his level to improve by then." "i thought seori...?" "seori isn't professional enough, from what wonwoo's told me."

it's only at this point that you realise that there's another pair of eyes focused on you in a piercing gaze. you know who it is, and you try your best to avert your glance.

not professional? you wonder what that may mean.

"fix up a timing for the sessions, and please don't disappoint me, y/n." she says the last bit with a pleading tone in her voice, and you wince. "alright, ma'am."

all through the class, there's only one thing playing in your mind on loop. you. wonwoo. in the tutoring room. alone. for the next two weeks. fix up a timing for the sessions. don't disappoint me. your lower lip wobbles and you can feel the tears inching in your eyes slowly. expectations. disappointment. aren't you just a disappointment to everyone? to your parents. to your teachers. to yourself.

even to wonwoo.

if you hadn't kept your head down for the entirety of the class, gazing at the sight outside the window, your attention completely unfocused from class, you would've noticed a figure turning to look at you whenever the teacher has her back to the class. but you don't notice him, so you don't realise his eyes fixed on you when you make a dash out of class as soon as the teacher leaves the classroom. you want to escape the inevitable for just another day- defer it, rather. you know it's going to be torture when wonwoo finally accosts you. as you make your way to a corner in the school, a secluded spot near the roof, where you've never seen anyone else going except yourself, a flurry of thoughts float in your head. all thoughts that should ideally deter you from running away. but you do it nonetheless, because you can't think straight. you feel the tangible cloud of these worries clog your throat as you hide in your favourite hideout corner and cover your face with your hands as you feel the fresh wind blow onto your heated skin.

he's going to hate you more now because you're delaying the academic help he deserves, simply because of your stupid nerves.

he's likely going to complain against you to the teachers, how you've taken academic responsibilities casually, and mar your good academic record and rapport with teachers. fuck, that's a further lower chance of getting the LORs you need.

he's also likely going to talk about what a creepy stalker you truly are in your mutual gaming circles, and you'll be ousted from the one safe space, your hobby, the one place where you've felt unjudged, the only place you can be yourself.

fuck. fuck. f-

"how long are you going to hide from me, princess?"

you freeze on spot. the voice is unmistakable, it's haunted your dreams long enough. you can feel a warmth in your periphery and you know he's right behind you. the hair on the back of your neck rise up into goosebumps and you know you've been caught.

you turn around slowly, your eyes fixed to the ground. you see wonwoo's sparkling white sneakers standing close to yours, and in the silence of this secluded spot, you can hear his breathing, slow and steady, completely contrasting your own shallow, frenzied breathing.

"i d- don't kn-know what you're t-talking a-about." you stutter through every word, your skin burning up with the keen awareness of wonwoo catching you red-handed.

"so that's how it going to be?" you can see his toes edge slightly forward, as if he's rocking in his shoes. and then you start to feel slightly less tensed. you start to focus on the tone he's using- it's not particularly menacing. in fact, it's not angry at all. which is surprising because-

"are you mad at me, princess?"

this time you look up, and you're hit with the force of wonwoo's beautiful eyes looking straight at you from barely any distance. with his height, he's easily towering over you, his glasses making his gaze more stern... and yet the way he's looking at you, it's so... soft? how odd that he's asking you if you're mad at him, when truly, it's quite the opposite.

"i sh-should be asking y-you that."

"me?" he tilts his head to one side in query, eyebrows furrowing. "i could never be mad at you."

your voice quivers as you speak the next words, "but you now know who i am."

"and?"

"that's why you're avoiding me!"

"that's true." you take a step back at his words. "so you do admit it, wonwoo?"

"i do. if you're referring to my lack of communication in this last few days, then it is true. i won't blame it on any excuse except my own conscious behaviour."

god. he's going to just say it like that. straightforward. no roundabouts. no sugarcoating. perhaps it's better like that. will save you the pain of hope after the heartbreak.

you look straight into wonwoo's eyes. "i get it, wonwoo. i've disappointed you. and you regret ever making friends with you. because i'm not popular, nor smart, nor attractive. you know how you'd wished if we could ever meet in real life? the truth is, now you're glad you didn't follow along that plan, otherwise you'd regret it terribly."

"i do regret it." he lifts his hand to brush your bangs out of your eyes. you almost jerk at his touch, but it's too gentle. when it gently wisps along your cheek, it feels... almost familiar. how cruel of him to do this before he's going to reject you outright. how cruel of him to give you a taste of heaven before leaving you heartbroken.

"why are you doing this, wonwoo? can't you leave me alone?"

his hand frames your cheek, cupping it barely, and you want to lean into his touch. when his cold palm slowly begins getting warmer through your touch, he speaks again. "i regret not meeting you sooner, princess. or rather, y/n. i regret not following up on that, y/n, because that way you'd never think such mean things about yourself. not just are you being mean to yourself, but also you're being mean to me!"

"to you?" your eyes grow wide, and a small smile plays on wonwoo's lips. "yes. you're not giving me a chance to explain myself. i'm sorry for disappearing on you after my birthday." he pauses, and you just raise your eyebrows, waiting for the explanation he's so desperate to give.

"yes, well. dumb move on my part. but then- i didn't know how to react after you sent that character to me!"

"how did you know it was me?"

"the mail id?"

"yes. damn, yes. i knew it."

he chuckles, "but i knew that you were princess long before that." "you did?" "seungcheol's sister goes to this school, you know? she'd recognised your voice immediately." you gasp at his words, "but you're still not letting me finish."

you take a step back, suddenly reeled back to reality. you try to move your face away from his hands, and his left hand drops from your cheeks, only to grab on to your wrist even as you step away. "i was stupid. i didn't know if you sending me the gift was... just friendly or something more. and just because i feel something more doesn't mean you will reciprocate it."

"what do you mean?" your voice is softer now, glazed with curiosity.

"the reason why i disappeared on you was because i needed time to think my way through with how i wanted to approach this with you. and convincing our math teacher to get you, her favourite student, to tutor me was the easiest way out ever." there's another chuckle, but your mind is spinning.

"approach what with me? wonwoo?"

he takes another step towards you, his hand slipping lower than your wrist and holding your palm now, inches away from locking his fingers around yours.

"i like you, y/n. don't you know that already?"

your mind whirls again, and you blink for a few seconds. "what?!" he blinks back at you, equally shocked. "i thought it was obvious, y/n. do you think i play games with any girl every night? share every life update with any girl every night? can't go to sleep without hearing the voice of any girl every night?"

"won-wonwoo..."

"so tell me now, please. spare me the heartbreak and tell me why you sent me that gift."

it feels surreal, but wonwoo's racing pulse against your fingers makes you realise that he's real. this is real. this is happening. wonwoo likes you.

"of course i like you wonwoo. i even told you i'd kiss you. wasn't that a giveaway enough?"

"you said that because i was the only one you'd kiss in a room full of other friends... but it didn't mean anything!" he's quick to protest, and your heart melts. maybe wonwoo is shier than you'd thought. so you take a step closer to him, and link your fingers into his finally. "well now you know what it means."

three bunked classes later, you and wonwoo make your way back to the main classroom area of the school. the rush of adrenaline in your body is insane right now, because you're holding hands with wonwoo. with wonwoo! you don't think you can believe it, so you keep looking down at your hands to make sure its real.

"i wish i'd met you before y/n. i was so desperate to know you more! it was so obvious," wonwoo's low giggles are music to your ears as he leans in to whisper his sweet words. "i thought that's why you kept running away from me." his hand slips out of your lock, and around your waist, pulling you in gently. you gasp at his move, and look around quickly to see if anyone's looking. but thankfully, there's no one in the corridors right now, so you let his hand remain there.

"i kept hiding because i was worried how you'd react on knowing the real me, won." "but i knew the real you already. sight isn't our only sense, you know." "yes, but i'm not-" "i don't care what you're not. there's so many things i'm not. and yet, you say that you like me. so what matters is you and me, don't you think?" you turn your head up to look at him, blushing at the fond look in his soft eyes. you want to hug him, pull him towards you and never let him go. but you settle for leaning closer into his body for now.

"i was promised a tutoring session, you know." he says slowly, as you realise you're both walking towards the isolated tutoring room of the school. it's empty right now, because it's still class hours. "do you want to be tutored now?" you raise your eyebrows, concerned at his wish to break out of this precious moment you're having and instead study. "i want to be in the tutoring room right now. there are no cctvs, see." you spin around to quickly check, blushing at the way he's whispering into your ear. but before you can turn back to him and reply, you feel a wet peck on your cheek, and your body bursts into flames.

jeon wonwoo just kissed you.

"wonwoo!"

"what? did you not like it?" he whispers, slightly alarmed.

"no! just! warn a girl before you do things like this, you know." you try to hide your blush furiously, but fail, as he wraps you into his embrace. "there are no other girls to warn. only you. and i don't need to warn you. because now you know i do things like this." and he leans in again, and before you realise, he's left a kiss on your nose. your heart races as you avert your gaze, and you're both erupting into giggles. "you're really a menace, jeon wonwoo." he cups your face with his hands, looking right into your eyes.

"and you're my princess, y/n."

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rodolfoparras · 1 year ago

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Pillow talk

Pairing: FTM! Peter B. Parker x Top Male Reader

Synopsis: In which Peter, a married man, gets off to the thought of being with someone other than his spouse

Content tags: 18+, MINORS DNI, emotional infidelity, cheating kink, pillow humping, masturbation, oral sex, Peter has a size kink, Peter being a bit of a pervert

A/n: as always pls excuse any mistakes I tried a new writing style here, also if you want you can listen to More Than Friends by Isabel LaRosa while reading this since it’s heavily inspired by it!

A tired sigh escapes Peter’s lips as his bones bleed into the sheets. The window’s cracked ajar, allowing cold autumn air to mingle with the smell of MJ’s perfume that’s lingering around in the room.

He’s stripped down to nothing but his tattered pink robe, searing skin exposed to the chilly sensation emitting from his wedding ring as it trails along the length of his body.

For the first time in a while Peter’s gotten some time alone.

MJ has taken Mayday for the day and left so that Peter could have the house to himself, claiming he’d been pent up for a while and supposedly needed a break.

Peter hadn’t argued against it but had instead taken the offer with grace since it’s true that he has been feeling pent up but not for the reason MJ thinks. Peter’s sure that if she knew the reason behind his recent behaviors she wouldn’t be so willing to help him.

For the last couple of weeks Peter’s been plagued with the realization that he didn’t hate his neighbor, not his next door neighbor because that man is a menace and Peter’s pretty sure the hate’s mutual.

Instead he’s come to the realization that he didn’t hate his neighbor on the floor below him, that neighbor being you.

At first he was sure that he hated you since you made his spider senses tingle, well at least that’s what he thought it was.

He’d first met you at a neighborhood block party. You had recently moved in or so he had heard and were more than eager to get acquainted with the neighbors for whatever reason.

You were lounging around in a lawn chair when he had first arrived with MJ and Mayday.

The poor thing threatened to give out under your weight but you paid it no mind as you entertained a conversation with a neighbor and nourished a beer in your hand.

When you rose to greet him, Peter noticed that you were a whole head taller than him so it was no wonder that you made his spider senses tingle.

He tried his best to ignore you but even when he couldn’t see you, he could smell you since you wore this stupid cologne that smelled stronger than anything MJ’s ever worn before and because of that he could always tell when you were lingering around.

If he thought that smelling and seeing you was bad then touching you was something else.

He’d purposely opted out of a handshake when you first greeted each other but that didn’t save his spider sense from going into overdrive after having your knees knock together while you were sat at the same table or having your elbows brush against each other while scooping up leftovers.

However even though you made his spider sense go off, Peter had quickly realized that you weren’t a threat, at least not a dangerous one.

You were friendly and always made sure to spark up a conversation with him, even when you'd be in a rush to something.

You’d go out your way to bring him any of his mail or packages that happened to be misplaced.

Hell you'd even baby sat Mayday a handful of times so it was safe to say you weren’t a threat. But for whatever reason Peter couldn’t seem to get you out of his head.

Especially after hearing your ever so polite voice protruding through his thin bedroom walls, your dirty words squeezing between his and Mj’s hushed conversations. Or seeing the way you basically engulfed whoever was in your arms but unlike the lawn chair they seemed to thrive from being in your embrace. And escaping the smell of your cologne turned out to be a hard feat since every other day someone would be prancing around in one of your shirts dozed in the smell of it.

He doesn’t even remember when he started making sure that he’d be the one to pick Mayday up from your house, just to see whatever lounge wear you’d be prancing around in that day and the bit of skin that always seemed to show through it.

He doesn’t remember when he started hoping that the mailman would misplace yet another letter or package just so that he could feel your calloused fingertips brushing against his as you handed him something.

He doesn’t even remember when he started biting his tongue just so he wouldn’t ask you who he had seen standing outside your door the previous night.

He shouldn’t be feeling like this. He has MJ and he has Mayday and as far as he knows he’s happy. He’s just pent up, like MJ had said.

It’s not like Peter and MJ don’t have sex. It’s just that she doesn’t do it for him, at least not anymore.

Every time they get intimate he’d have to fake an orgasm or jerk off after she’d gone to bed. Lately he’s even had to pretend to be asleep every time she tried to initiate something because he simply wasn’t up for it.

So he’d find other ways to entertain himself and one of the ways being with inappropriate thoughts of his neighbor.

And things kind of escalate from there not in the literal sense since you’re so fucking polite, wont even look at him twice, keeping a respectful distance to a man who has a kid and a wife.

But God Peter wishes that you did, so much so he imagines you pinning him to the bed, hip to hip, chest to chest, those strong arms and thighs caging him into the mattress

The tattered robe wrapped around his frame doesn’t compare to the way your body would feel on top of his. But he keeps it on anyway, closes his eyes and pretends that the hand leisurely dragging across his limbs is your body pushing down onto his.

He imagines the way your lips would slot together, hot breath washing over his cheek as you whisper dirty words to him.

A thumb finds his lips, teasingly tugging and taunting at the bottom lip. It feels nothing like your calloused fingertips but his tongue peaks past his lips, tasting the salty skin before sinking down on it.

He imagines how you’d tease and taunt him in that polite voice of yours that managed to whisper such dirty words, how you’d mock him for wanting to be fucked like a bitch in heat despite the wedding band digging into his skin, maybe you’d force him to say it just so that he hears it from his own lips or so that the whole neighborhood can hear how desperate he is.

He imagines you straddling his waist grinding into him while wearing nothing but your boxers, teasing him to point where he’s soaking through his own pair of underwear.

A hand slides down his chest, blunt nails dragging down his happy trail, only to stop at the fringe of curls atop of his cunt, tugging and taunting til he’s all worked up.

He imagines your long fingers thrusting into him , or making him finger himself while wearing his wedding band, prepping himself to be fucked by someone other than his spouse.

And God he’s already so wet, fingers easily coating in his arousal as he trails them up his cunt, and in that very moment he can't help but think how MJ never gets him like this.

But his fingers are not enough- this little fantasy of his is not enough but you’re too good to do anything about it so he rolls onto his stomach before propping the pillow between his legs, pretending it’s your face.

He imagines the bed creaking under your shared weight, and the way the smell of your cologne would engulf his senses. He imagines the way your calloused fingertips would sink into the supple skin of his thighs and the way your ever so polite voice would sound as you command him to properly sit down.

He starts moving slowly, rolling his hips cautiously, imagining the way your tongue would experimentally delve through his folds.

The pillow slides in between his folds, coarse fabric creating a steady pressure onto his engorged numb, not enough to overwhelm his senses but enough to send jolts of pleasure coursing through his body every time he moves his hips.

He imagines you wanting to take your time with him wanting to taste him, tongue licking a strip along his cunt up to his puffy clit where you’d continue to tease him until he’s begging and urging you to hurry before someone can find the two of you like this.

But you wouldn’t listen to him, wouldn’t care if anyone were to find you like this, hand slapping his ass in warning before you continued to do as you pleased.

His hand cups the globe of his cheek, much like the way you’d do it if you were with him, except his fingers feel nothing like yours. But the cold sensation from his ring as it slaps his searing skin sends sparks of pleasure coursing through his entire body and for one second it almost feels like you’re actually there with him.

The coarse fabric of the pillow case reminds him so much of your stubble and it’s so wrong but feels so right - the thought of being fucked by someone other than his wife as huffs and pants escape his lips, hips moving faster as he wanders back to his fantasy.

He imagines you having him so worked up to the point where Peter’s long forgotten about the fact that someone can just walk in on you two because the bed’s creaking and he’s loudly begging and pleading for you to stop teasing.

Eventually you'd take pity on him, showing him mercy by properly latching onto his puffy clit, eagerly suckling on it before tonguing his hole.

He adjusts his hips, and the angle in which the pillow hits his clit changes slightly, and intensifies the sensation along with it.

“Oh- oh fuck!” He squeals out, toes curling as he throws his head back.

He imagines the way you’d easily have him teetering on the edge of his release with Peter begging and pleading for you to let him finish.

He can almost taste it, can hear the Squelching sounds mingling with the sound of needy noises escaping his lips. He can even smell his arousal: strong and heady, knowing he’s probably stained the pillow under him and will need to wash it before MJ comes back but for now he can’t find it in himself to care.

He’s so close, needs just a bit more -and that’s when he picks up on the sound of your footsteps walking up the stairs, smells the scent of your cologne bleeding into the air.

You must be on your way to his apartment to bring yet another misplaced package.

And Peter knows it’s wrong but it feels so right, feels himself tip over the edge as you read what’s written on the parcel, out loud

“To Peter B. Parker, please handle with care”

#peter b Parker #peter b parker x reader #peter b parker x male reader #peter Parker #peter Parker x reader #peter Parker x male reader #top male reader #bottom male character #trans male character #into the spider verse #across the spider verse #I tried a new writing style with this one let me know what u think #*nervous laughter*#sometimes I wish this was like AO 3 in terms of writing titles for fics #bc I wanted to out #I know your wife and she wouldn’t mind #but it doesn’t fit the lay out #alec writes #Omg I never tagged this god

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moniheartsluffy · 5 months ago

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A DADDY’s GIRL

characters featured: crocodaddy, warlords, marines.

genre: fluff

notes: father!crocodile x daughter!reader, PLATONIC RELATIONSHIP, black!coded reader, crocodaddy and his baby girl🥹

grammar warning!! not rlly proofread…this been sitting in the drafts for a hot minute…

• mans love him some of his daughter.

• safe to say his world now revolves around you. he never thought he would want kids but when you popped out….oh he was bringing you everywhere.

• he thought the lady (your mother) was bullshittin when she said she was pregnant. he’s experienced many women trying to trap him before, so he just brushed it off wit a “yea ok”

• oh but when he saw that baby bumpppp. his whole mood changed. he started filling out paperwork to get full custody all ready😭 and ofc he won bc…it’s him. (pls. just work wimme here)

6yr old you waking up in an overly decent sized room due to the sun coming through your curtains and your TALL ASS father coming into the room. you’re trying to rub the sleep from your eyes as you sit up to look at him while he motions to pick you up.

“morning princess.” he says while placing a light kiss to your cheek. in response to his actions you simply place your head on his shoulder and allow yourself to be whisked away.

“still sleepy, hmm?” he says placing another kiss to the top of your head and watches as you nod, confirming his accusation.

now its a lot of things that crocodile has people do for him like his dirty work…but when it comes to you he allows them to do your hair, pick out outfits, feed you, etc. but he adores the simple things like getting you out of bed, tucking you in at night and other simple things that falls in between. other than that he leaves it to the maids he’s hired.

he takes you everywhere..and i mean everywhere. he has a meeting? he’s putting you in the cutest business outfit ever. the warlords are called together? he already got snacks and toys packed for you. anywhere this man is going he’s taking you and he doesn’t care about repercussions.

with that being said…a warlord meeting was called.

so..everyone walking in and taking their respective seats, meanwhile crocodile walking in with you in his arms and he’s late.

now we all know boa isn’t fond of men so as soon as crocodile puts you on the ground she’s swiping you away..immediately. she thinks he’s corrupting your mind or sum. but you cannot tell me boa would not love you. she’s turning you into the best feminist ever. (gotta start em off young!!) she even though about taking you to the kuja island… and never bringing you back. after a while, her and your dad start arguing so you go speak to some of the other warlords.

mihawk was just minding his business and wishing he had stayed home. you stumble over with a pack of fruit snacks, holding them out for him to take them. “you looked upset so here!” your tiny voice chirps up at him. he couldn’t bring himself to reject your offer, especially when you looked up at him with a determination to make him ‘feel better’. so he simply raised his eyebrow at you and took them while giving you this thanks and a smile that wasn’t too noticeable, but you saw it.

now…it’s two men in this entire room that you simply can’t express enough emotion for. doflamingo and gecko moria. now to be frank, you didn’t despise doffy like you did the other one but you weren’t exactly fond of him either. it’s like you tolerated him. he was kind to you but something about him just seemed off.

nevertheless your feet carried you to where doflamingo sat on a windowsill waiting for this excuse of a meeting to start. “hi doffy.” the pureness in your voice snapping him out of whatever unhinged things he was thinking about. “hello there little one. you look so adorable in your f/c dress.” he replied in a mellow tone. you muttered a small “thank you” before asking him about the whereabouts of kuma, at the last meeting he asked you what your favorite flower was and you finally had an answer for him but much to your dismay the blonde haired man had no idea. (not like he cares but hey)

ultimately choosing to ignore the presence of the other being in the room you swiftly made your way over to jinbe and had a short conversation with him regarding the sunflower drawing that adorned your dress, the fishman states how much he loved the design. after that ended you made your way back with your father and the warlord meeting began shortly after.

warlord meetings were always a pain but having you there always made it seem a little bit better for everyone—even the marines thought you were adorable although, they never showed it..except for garp. he’s a grandpa, ofc he’s gonna act like one towards a child. so every time the meeting truly starts garp takes you away and you two walk around the marineford gardens. he also takes you to sengoku’s office so you can see his goat and eat snacks while he annoys sengoku.

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luvrseung · 1 year ago

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𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐚 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬

## pairing(s)! motorcycle driver heeseung! x yn!

## synopsis! yn's life takes an unexpected turn when she catches her boyfriend cheating on her and she meets the mysterious Heeseung, a captivating man on a motorcycle. After a brief yet memorable encounter, he vanishes, leaving her longing for more. Months later, they cross paths again. Yn's mixed emotions and Heeseung's determination do they have a happy ending?

## genre! not too bad angst, fluff at the end ! Idk dude I just work here

## wc! 8.9k

## warning(s)! cursing, and not much else?? but if u feel like there should be a warning for anything else, please let me know asap!!

## a/n! THIS IS MY LONGEST FIC EVER EVERRRRR. its currently 4:15 am as i post this and i have class at 11! hahaha.. anyways. inspo hit me like a truck... well, like a motorcycle HEHEHE. ahem.. okay. i hope you guys like this i really enjoyed writing it! please send me any feedback! mwah mwah i love uu i go sleep now! also pls don't mind any typos or errors im so delirious rn thank u bye bye

You step out of the dimly lit restroom, returning to the bar, only to find an empty seat beside you, where your boyfriend was seated just moments ago. His jacket remains draped over the backrest, a silent testament to his brief absence. Curiosity piques your interest as you assume he must have also ventured to the restroom. Settling in, you rest your head on your hand, elbow propped against the sleek bar, and survey the vibrant club that surrounds you. The music's thunderous pulse reverberates through your chest, infusing the air with almost a tangible energy. A sensual blend of alcohol and alluring perfumes weaves a heavy tapestry which fills your senses. In this tantalizing environment, the crowd is a dynamic kaleidoscope of movement and emotion—dancers, laughter, clinking glasses, tendrils of smoke swirling upward—each contributing to the sensory feast. Among the sea of passion and revelry, a singular couple draws your unwavering attention. Their fervent embrace seems to defy the boundaries of time and space, an intense kiss that hangs on the precipice of necessity. In an instant, your heart plummets, and the couple reluctantly disentangles from each other. As your gaze locks onto their faces, the unfolding revelation leaves you breathless.

As you rise from your barstool, your steps carry a mix of uncertainty and disbelief, drawing you inexorably toward the pulsating heart of the dance floor. The scene before your eyes demands confirmation, and what you find shatters your world in an instant. There, under the chaotic spell of the music's relentless rhythm, stands your boyfriend, now a stranger, locked in a passionate embrace with another woman. Her arms are a seductive snakily coil around the back of his neck, and their laughter mingles with the infectious beats of the music, now assaulting your ears as you reach the realization of betrayal. A concoction of emotions—upset, betrayal, and the intoxicating fumes of alcohol—swirl within you, drawing you forward as the heat crawls up your face and flows into the rest of your body. Your feet guide you through the trembling beat, and, with a burst of fiery rage, you confront the pair. In an act of defiance and heartbreak, your open palm collides with your now ex-boyfriend's cheek in a resounding slap, the sound lost in the under the booming music that fills the club. The mysterious girl, who moments ago was dancing with him, stumbles back, her face etched with shock and disbelief. With your wounded pride, you retreat to the sanctuary of the bar. A final shot materializes before you, its amber contents beckoning with an illusory promise of numbness. You down the drink with the recklessness and no caution, the burn in your throat eclipsed by the feeling of your shattered heart.

You inform the bartender with a casual wave that the responsibility for the bill rests with the man you arrived with, an excuse that offers a semblance of dignity as you navigate your unsteady exit from the bar's confines. The city's nightlife swirls around you, a vivid blanket of neon lights and indistinct conversations. Perched on the curb outside the bar, you release a heavy, audible sigh that seems to resonate with the depth of your emotions. The exasperated "pfft" escapes your lips as you dismissively mutter, "What a waste." you recline, propping yourself up on your arms behind you, while your gaze ascends towards the night sky. It's as if you're summoning the attention of a god you don't even believe in, the stars and the moon bearing witness to your turmoil. Unbidden tears begin to well in your eyes, forming glistening pools that threaten to overflow. Yet, in a strange paradox, laughter bubbles up from within your heavy chest, as if mocking the absurdity of the situation. "He made a mistake… losing me? How stupid," you whisper to yourself, the words a bittersweet blend of self-affirmation and ironic amusement. Your tears, now fallen, trace glittering paths down your cheeks, their journey reflecting the city's glimmering lights. You cast your gaze downward, scrutinizing your ensemble—a striking red dress that billows around you, paired with towering, sleek black heels. In that moment of reflection, you realize that it was not you who was lost; it was him. Your attire serves as a poignant reminder that you are a treasure to be cherished, a realization that strengthens your resolve even as tears continue to fall.

Amid the quiet solace of your unspoken sorrows, the sudden roar of a motorcycle's powerful engine reverberates through the air, and your attention is instinctively drawn to the source. With a magnetic allure, the motorcycle glides to a stop not far from your lonesome, commanding your undivided focus. You study the machine as if decoding a riddle; its lustrous body gleams in pristine white, a stark contrast to the glinting silver rims of the wheels. The interior and seats, ensconced in shadowy allure, exude an air of enigmatic sophistication, cloaked in inky blackness. Seated astride this mechanical masterpiece is a man who embodies a paradox of rugged elegance. He possesses a commanding yet lean figure, an epitome of grace and strength that defies the bounds of convention. Draped in a formidable, protective black jacket, his attire is sending your brain into a frenzy. Fitting black jeans encase his legs, while black gloves envelope his hands with a subtle promise of concealed purpose. Each step echoing an aura of intrigue, he dons a pair of black Doc Marten boots, their resolute presence amplifying his enigmatic appeal. Atop the mysterious man’s figure sits a gloss-black helmet, its contours hinting at the mysteries that lie beneath.

With deliberate grace, he lifts the helmet from his head, revealing a crown of luxurious, dark purple locks. Your astonishment lingers in the air, and you can't help but be drawn to the allure of this captivating stranger. To call your fascination mere curiosity would be a gross understatement. Each of his features appears meticulously crafted, from his silver-clad ears adorned with earrings, to a proud and tall nose, and his eyes—those big beguiling orbs that seem to harbor a pool of secrets within. It's a visage that commands attention, the embodiment of an elusive charm that ignites your every sense. In a moment of serendipity, your eyes meet, the spark of connection bridging the gap between strangers. He saunters toward the store adjacent to the bar, a fleeting look of mischief dancing in his eyes. A playful wink and an enigmatic smile are cast in your direction, a wordless invitation that beckons with a magnetic pull. He dismounts from his motorcycle with an elegance that mirrors the grace of a dancer, setting the helmet upon the seat . As he disappears into the depths of the store, the intoxicating combination of your inebriation and the fragile state of your emotions conspire to form a whimsical yet irresistible decision. It's a gravitational force that leaves you with no choice but to step into the store and follow the purple-haired enigma, your heart beating in time with the uncharted journey that awaits.

As the convenience store door chimes melodically with your entry, a tingle of excitement courses through the air. The purple-haired enigma, the pull of destiny that brought you here, stands before you, a magnetic presence that seems to command every aisle. His striking figure exudes an aura that is both electrifying and tantalizing, and you can't help but gravitate toward him. With fluid grace, he reaches into the fridge to retrieve a drink, his movements a mesmerizing dance of confidence. You approach, and behind the cool, glass refrigerator door, your eyes lock in a seductive connection. He acknowledges your presence with a sultry smile that ignites the room. With an air of unshakable self-assuredness, you compliment his sleek motorcycle, your words laced with a smoldering charm. His response is a flirtatious grin, and as he rises to his full, towering height, he gazes down upon you, a titillating hint of promise in his eyes. "Thanks, ever been on a bike before, pretty girl?" he inquires, the huskiness of his voice sending electric shivers down your spine. Butterflies flutter wildly in your stomach as his words hang in the air. You return the provocative banter, testing the waters of this intriguing encounter. “Is this an invitation mr……?.”

“Heeseung. Lee Heeseung.” He introduces himself with a name that rolls off his tongue like a forbidden secret—Lee Heeseung. His playful response drips with allure, and you find yourself ensnared in the the moment. "And maybe it is an invitation… if you're willing to accept, Miss …..”? Your own name tastes sweeter than ever on your lips as you tease him with a hint of coyness, “Yn. Y/ln Yn. And why should I Lee?” Heeseung's perceptive eyes dart to the mascara-stained traces of tears on your face, his gaze tracing the invisible scars etched upon your soul. He tenderly points to your head, his words laden with a quiet understanding. "Judging by the mascara-stained tears on your face, I think a ride would fix whatever troubled that pretty little head of yours." A shy smile dances upon your lips, your heart pounding with a mixture of vulnerability and courage. "Got an extra helmet, then?" You say as acceptance to his offer. Heeseung's smirk deepens, his voice dripping with a seductive promise. "Good girl. Of course I do. You never know who needs a good ride." The air crackles with the electrifying energy of an adventure about to unfurl, as you and Lee Heeseung step into the thrilling unknown, united by the allure of the night.

In one hand, he clutches a tall, foreboding can of Monster energy drink, its vibrant, neon label a stark contrast to the other hand, which cradles a diminutive yellow box adorned with the endearing label "banana milk." The curious combination of his selections hints at the multifaceted personality of the man who has now become your enigmatic companion. With the transaction complete, the two of you emerge from the convenience store, and Heeseung extends a seemingly casual but unmistakably thoughtful gesture—offering you the little yellow box of banana milk. You accept it with a raised eyebrow, your curiosity piqued. "How'd you know I liked this, Lee?" you inquire, your voice touched by intrigue. A mischievous smile graces Heeseung's lips as he leans in a bit closer, and his response dances on the edges of flirtation, causing the butterflies in your stomach to stir with newfound hunger. "Pretty girls, like you, like banana milk," he teases, his words delivered with an artful charm that sends a shiver of excitement coursing through you. Grateful for his gesture, you return the enchanting smile, the air thick with an electrifying tension. As you both make your way toward the magnificent motorcycle that had initially captivated your attention, anticipation courses through your veins, setting your body aglow with excitement. You stand behind Heeseung, observing his every move with eager eyes. With practiced ease, he opens a concealed compartment at the back of the bike, revealing a second helmet that bears a striking silver star on either side. It's a unique touch that adds to the enigma of the man before you. Heeseung places your drinks within the compartment, where the second helmet once resided. With a smooth and assured motion, he secures the compartment and then offers you your designated helmet, a symbol of the adventure you're about to embark on together. As you accept the helmet from his hand, the magnetic connection between you deepens, and the night unfolds with the promise of thrilling secrets yet to be unveiled.

With the banana milk safely stowed and the helmet now snug upon your head, the night holds an air of mystery and excitement as you both approach the waiting motorcycle. Heeseung's slender frame moves with grace as he swings a leg over the sleek, white machine. He turns toward you, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that sends an electric pulse through your veins. "Make sure you hold on, doll," he says, his voice dipped in a heady blend of charm and raw anticipation. His words are laced with a promise of thrilling adventure, and your heart skips a beat as you grasp the significance of this moment. You eagerly position yourself behind him, forgetting all about your ex boyfriend and the events that took place before. your arms wrapping around his lean waist, fingers instinctively clutching the fabric of his black jacket. The powerful engine roars to life beneath you, its growl a primal invitation to the night. Heeseung's gloved hands deftly manipulate the handlebars, and in an exhilarating surge of acceleration, you both glide out of the convenience store's parking lot and onto the main road. The world becomes a mesmerizing blur of vibrant colors and lights as the motorcycle snakes through the city's labyrinthine streets, framed by beautifully illuminated buildings that reach skyward, a testament to humanity's creativity. The cool night air rushes over you, and the city's pulsating energy envelopes you, offering an intoxicating taste of freedom and escape. As the wind whips through your hair, and the city's mesmerizing lights create a captivating painting, you can't help but feel that you've stepped into a dream. With every twist and turn, Heeseung's driving skill reveals itself, and you're reminded of the harmony between man and machine. In this exhilarating dance through the heart of the city, you're not just a passenger; you're a partner in a thrilling adventure, bound by the allure of the night and the enigmatic man who now shares it with you.

As the motorcycle effortlessly weaves through the city's enchanting streets, Heeseung's lean frame seems to meld with the machine, and you can sense his exhilaration in the subtle movements and graceful leans. Every curve and twist of the road is navigated with a fluidity that suggests an intimate understanding between rider and ride. The city's lights create a dazzling panorama around you, and you revel in the symphony of sensations that surrounds you. After what feels like an eternity of blissful exploration, the first hints of daylight begin to break on the horizon, casting a soft, golden glow upon the cityscape. It's a bittersweet reminder that this enchanting ride must eventually come to an end. With a quiet understanding, Heeseung steers the motorcycle to a stop in front of your home, and the engine's growl reluctantly gives way to the stillness of the early morning. As you dismount the bike, you can't help but feel a mixture of gratitude and a hint of longing for the adventure that has brought you closer. Heeseung turns toward you, his eyes holding a sparkle that mirrors the city's lights. "I hope you enjoyed the ride as much as I did, pretty girl,” he says, his voice a blend of sincerity and allure. "I did enjoy it, lee.” Your eyes lock onto his, and you can't resist a teasing smile. "I have to admit, I'm not sure if it was the city or the company that made it so enjoyable." He chuckles softly, his gaze lingering on you. "Perhaps it's a bit of both. I hope I made you forget what you were crying about earlier.”

With an air of anticipation, Heeseung closes the enchanting gap between you, his footsteps a playful dance that mirrors the rhythm of your heart. You find yourself drawn closer to him, a mix of curiosity and desire, hoping for a kiss that promises to be electric. But Heeseung, ever the tease, surprises you by gently capturing your hand in his gloved grasp. His lips brush against your knuckles, leaving behind a soft and lingering kiss that sends a thrill down your spine. A mischievous sparkle dances in his eyes as he takes a step back, though his hold on your hand remains. A mischievous smirk plays upon his lips as he takes a step back, and your hands, still intertwined, reluctantly part as the space between you expands. but the connection between your souls remains undeniably strong. Heeseung places your helmet back into the motorcycle's compartment, his every motion a graceful symphony of closure, yet the moment is still heavy with the sweet ache of parting. He retrieves the little yellow box of banana milk, and with a look that speaks of unspoken promises and possibilities, he adds to the enchanting ambiance. As you turn away to make your way inside, your heart swells with emotions, and it's then you hear his voice, soft and filled with affectionate playfulness, "Heads up, princess!" Your head snaps around, your eyes locking onto Heeseung seated on the motorcycle, revving the engine with a fervor that mirrors the passion between you. With a flourish, he tosses the banana milk to you, and you catch it . Your heart flutters like a love-struck bird, and you're left standing there, watching the back of his retreating figure with eyes filled with longing. As the cold morning air surrounds you, you're reminded of the warmth and excitement that has filled this magical night. With a heart full of happiness, you finally turn to head inside.

In the cozy sanctuary of your home, you close the door behind you with a gentle sigh, leaning against it as you bask in the afterglow of this night. The memories of what transpired outside are like a symphony of emotions playing in your heart, each note resonating with the tender and profound love that has blossomed between you and Heeseung. The room envelops you in its intimate embrace, illuminated by the soft, warm glow of the night. As you lean against the door, the walls seem to hold the echoes of the moments shared, and you're overcome by a sense of profound romance that fills the very air you breathe. The night was a love story written in the stars, a story of two souls drawn together by destiny and fueled by a love that's destined to endure. Despite breaking every single rule of stranger danger, you wish this night couldve lasted forever.

As you ascend the stairs to your room, a sense of contentment and longing accompanies you. The banana milk, a sweet reminder of an unforgettable night, finds its place on your bedside table, a silent guardian of your dreams. The room envelops you in its cozy warmth, the atmosphere carrying the residual fragrance of romance and adventure. In the dim light, you prepare for a soothing shower, letting the cascading water wash away the remnants of the night. Your thoughts, however, remain tethered to the enigmatic Lee Heeseung. Questions and desires swirl within your mind, like a gentle storm of emotions.

After the warmth of the shower, you don your pajamas from the night before, their familiarity a source of comfort as you slip between the soft sheets of your bed. Your body, tired but satiated, yearns for rest, yet your heart and mind remain restless, still inextricably tangled in the enchantment of the night. Thoughts of him, like whispers in the night, dance through your mind. "When will I see him again?" and "I wish we had exchanged information" echo in the chambers of your thoughts. Who is this mysterious man, Lee Heeseung, who has touched your heart so deeply? The unanswered questions propel you to flip open your phone, your curiosity overriding the myriad missed calls and texts from your unfaithful ex-boyfriend. Instagram becomes your portal to seek out the enigma named Lee Heeseung.

A sense of disappointment settles over you as your search on various social media platforms yields nothing. Lee Heeseung remains a ghost, elusive and untraceable in the digital realm. It's as if he exists only in the echoes of your memories, and the absence of any digital footprint only adds to his mystique. In your moment of quiet contemplation, a yearning for his presence intensifies. The desire to see him again, to unravel the enigma that is Lee Heeseung, becomes an undeniable ache within you. The thought that he knows where you live, and the lingering memories of your night together, offer a glimmer of hope that he might return. The idea that fate might bring you two together once more fills your heart with anticipation and longing. As you close your eyes and surrender to the night's embrace, you can't help but wonder when the stars will align, and the mysterious Lee Heeseung will reappear in your life.

As days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, the longing in your heart grew stronger. Spring had arrived, heralding the return of life and the vibrant colors of the world, yet it also marked the lingering absence of Heeseung, the man who had swept into your life as quickly as a shooting star and vanished just as abruptly. Every motorcycle that whizzed past you on the bustling streets of your city drew your attention like a magnet. A spark of curiosity ignited within you, and the questions were ceaseless. "Was that him? Does he still think of me?" These thoughts had woven themselves into the very fabric of your existence, haunting your every moment. The memories of that unforgettable night had become a bittersweet symphony that played on a loop in your mind.

Despite the love and support of your incredible friends, your loving family, and a fulfilling job, the void Heeseung had left in your life persisted. The allure of "what could've been" weighed heavy on your heart, like a melody left unfinished, a dance cut short, or a love story left untold. In the midst of your everyday life, the longing for the man named Lee Heeseung never waned. Your heart carried the echoes of his touch, the memory of his gaze, and the whispers of a love story that had never fully unfurled. With every passing day, your desire for his return only intensified, like a fire that refused to be extinguished.

It was a typical Tuesday, just like any other weekday, as you made your way into the bustling work building, greeted by the friendly faces of your coworkers who had also become your cherished friends. Jake, ever the playful one, couldn't resist bringing up the topic of your elusive Heeseung. "How are you, YN? Still no luck with this Heeseung guy?" he inquired with a mischievous glint in his eye. You let out a dramatic sigh, a playful air of exasperation in your response. "Unfortunately, no, Jake. Trust me, I would've told you if I had any news," you said with a chuckle. Jay, another dear friend of yours, joined the conversation, bringing with him a delightful surprise in the form of coffee for both you and Jake. With a comforting smile, he chimed in, "Don't worry, Ynnie, maybe he lives in a different town and was just there that night for you!" You couldn't help but offer an appreciative grin in response to Jay's attempt at comfort. His words were like a warm embrace, reassuring you in your quest for answers. Then, a new proposal surfaced, and it was Jay who initiated it. "Oh, by the way, Jake and I found out that there's been underground racing events in our city. We've been meaning to check it out. Wanna come with?" At first, you hesitated, but Jay's persuasive nature quickly took hold. "C'mon, YN!" Jake chimed in, adding his own brand of playfulness. "It'll be fun! Who knows, maybe you'll find Heeseung there! … or a different cute motorcycle guy at least." You let out a laugh that admitted defeat. "Okay, okay, I'll check it out with you guys. But if it's boring, you're buying me a burger." Jay quickly agreed to the wager. "Fine. Deal. But it won't be boring!" he declared with unwavering enthusiasm. "Mhm, we'll see," you replied with a sly grin, anticipating the playful adventures that lay ahead with your close friends, all while hoping that amidst the thrills of underground racing, you might find the one you longed for – or perhaps, something equally captivating.

As the workday drew to a close, you bid your colleagues and friends farewell, exchanging a series of cheerful goodbyes and promises to reconvene tomorrow. Last in line to receive your parting words were your friends, and it was Jake who left you with a playful reminder. "We'll pick you up at 10, ynnie~,” he declared with a mischievous glint in his eye. Your response was a melodious giggle as you affectionately ruffled his hair, a signal of your confirmation.

Once home, the weight of the day's responsibilities dissipated like a passing storm. Shoes were unceremoniously discarded, your bag and jacket flung haphazardly onto the floor, and with a contented sigh, you sank into the inviting embrace of your couch. Retrieving your phone, you embarked on a determined quest to research the underground racing scene, the glimmer of hope in your chest steadily growing brighter with every tap of your fingers.

The prospect of possibly encountering Heeseung again ignited a certain spark in your eyes, a fire of desire that refused to be extinguished. Yet, much like the elusive enigma of the man himself, your online investigation yielded no information about these races. It was as though the world had conspired to keep their existence hidden, a fitting scenario for events that were undoubtedly illegal. As you set your phone aside, your thoughts began to spiral in a torrent of what-ifs. What if Heeseung is there, but his interest had always been elsewhere? What if he's not present? What if he doesn't even notice you? These unceasing questions threatened to consume your mind, and you shook your head, as if such an act could dispel these relentless thoughts. Determined to quell the storm of uncertainties that raged within you, you took a deep breath and resolved to face the night with unwavering optimism.

With the plan in place, you had agreed that the guys would hang out at your place before the big race. Jake and Jay, after their workday, rushed home, got dressed for the evening, and then made their way to your doorstep around 7:30. You swung open the door in your comfy pajamas, greeting the duo with warm hugs and bright smiles. "Alright, guys," you chimed in, "I'm going to get ready now. You said we're leaving at 10, right?" They both confirmed your question with a nod, and you headed upstairs to prepare for the night ahead. As you left the living room, the two friends made themselves at home, lounging comfortably on your couch and taking charge of the TV. The anticipation for the evening ahead filled the air, and the sense of camaraderie between the three of you was a reassuring presence, setting the tone for the exciting adventure that lay just around the corner.

Upstairs in your room, you embarked on the grand battle that is getting ready for a night out. The soft glow of your vanity mirror cast a warm light on your determined face as you transformed your appearance for the evening. Your makeup was an elegant fusion of dark and bold, with a smoky eyeliner that accentuated your eyes and a luscious dark red lip gloss that heightened the allure of your lips. The result was a striking look that suited your features beautifully. You took a few moments to curl the ends of your hair, creating soft, cascading waves that reached down to your lower back. These curls were swept up into a high, sleek ponytail, with two delicate strands left loose to elegantly frame your face. Your outfit had been meticulously selected, not only with Heeseung in mind but also with the exciting prospect of possibly meeting someone new at this enigmatic race. Dark red leather pants, designed to hug your curves in all the right ways, were paired with a lace black tank top, adding a touch of sensuality to your ensemble. To complete the look, you adorned yourself with a black and white leather jacket that draped over your shoulders like whipped cream on a tantalizing sundae. In your full-length mirror, you admired the reflection of a confident and captivating woman, well aware of her own allure. A pair of sleek black boots adorned your feet, and you accessorized with a silver necklace featuring a delicate pendant and matching earrings, adding a touch of sophistication to your ensemble. To crown your transformation, you picked up your favorite perfume bottle, and with each spritz, a beautiful aroma enveloped you like a fragrant embrace. The battle of getting ready was won, and you felt like a queen in your own right. With a final glance in the mirror, you knew you looked stunning and were ready to face whatever the night had in store. With your purse in hand, you headed downstairs, prepared to join your friends who were patiently waiting for you.

"DAMN YN!" Jay and Jake exclaimed in unison as you descended the stairs, the sight of your stunning transformation leaving them momentarily breathless. A beaming smile graced your lips as their admiration washed over you. "Thank you, boys," you replied with a gracious nod, giving them a playful twirl to showcase your meticulously chosen outfit. "Do I look good?" you asked, a hint of playful teasing in your voice. "You know you do," Jay responded with a smile, but he was eager to get going. "Now, let's get moving! It's nearly 10:15." You waved off his concern with a nonchalant chuckle. "Oh, please, there's no way these things start right on time. We're fine. Now, let's make a quick stop at the convenience store so I can get a banana milk, pretty please~" you added with a hint of irresistible charm. The two boys, who had been lounging on the couch, rose from their seats with mock exasperation. Jake couldn't help but mutter a resigned, "Yes, ma'am…" as you playfully led the way, heading into the car where you sat in the backseat.

With a refreshing banana milk tucked safely in your purse, courtesy of Jake's wallet, the three of you arrived at the underground racing event. The venue was located beneath a highway bridge in an area you never even knew existed. you were struck by the sheer scale of the place, surrounded by towering structures that seemed to stretch to the heavens. This perspective, seeing the world from a unique angle, made you feel small in the grand scheme of things, a humbling realization that added to the aura of the night. Lost in your contemplation, you were momentarily unaware that Jay and Jake had already exited the car, with Jake gallantly holding the door open for you. He playfully addressed you, "Here we are, princess," and you responded with a light, affectionate hit on his arm, chuckling, "Oh, cut it out, Jaeyun." A playful exchange of names ensued between the two friends as you headed toward the gathering crowd at the starting line, eagerly awaiting the start of the race. You surveyed the bikers as they lined up in their positions, and your attention was drawn to a particular rider who was surrounded by a group of enthusiastic women. The throng of admirers made it difficult to see his face clearly, but you couldn't help but wonder if it might be Heeseung.

The announcer's voice crackled over the radio, calling on the racers to mount their bikes and prepare for the thrilling competition. Jay and Jake signaled that it was time to find your seats, with Jake instinctively taking your hand to guide you and ensure you didn't get lost in the bustling crowd. As you were led to the front row, you couldn't help but scan the racers one last time. The colorful array of bikes and their determined riders filled the scene with an air of excitement. But then, at the far end, you spotted a white bike, and your heart skipped a beat. Could it be Heeseung's bike? The memories of him came rushing back, and you pointed it out to your friends. "Wait, guys, that might be Heeseung's bike," you mentioned, your voice tinged with both hope and anxiety. Jake and Jay exchanged glances, their expressions a mix of curiosity and concern. "You think so, YN?" Jay asked, offering a glimmer of doubt. "Maybe it's just a guy with the same motorcycle color as Heeseung, Ynnie. I mean, white bikes aren't that uncommon, right?" Jake reasoned, trying to provide a rational explanation. You shook your head, a familiar gesture you used to clear your thoughts. "Yeah, Jakey, you're probably right. I mean, I haven't seen him in months. It can't be him," you replied, trying to convince yourself as much as your friends. You felt a surge of anxiety but decided to push those thoughts aside and focus on enjoying the race. With the comforting presence of your banana milk, you took a sip and leaned back, hoping that this night would be an adventure to remember, regardless of the outcome.

As the man on the radio commenced announcing the racers' names, an air of anticipation enveloped the crowd. With each name called out, a symphony of revving engines filled the air, punctuated by cheers and applause from the spectators. The excitement was palpable, and you joined in, clapping and cheering for each racer. However, as the announcer neared the end of the line of racers and you waited with bated breath, you couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment. The name you had been hoping to hear, "LEE HEESEUNG," didn't make an appearance. Instead, the announcer declared, "And last but not least, our reigning champion, ACE!" A sigh of regret escaped your lips, revealing your unspoken hope. You observed that the crowd cheered enthusiastically for this "Ace" character, understanding why he had garnered a legion of female admirers. The sense of anticipation still coursed through your veins, but you decided to put aside your initial disappointment and immerse yourself in the exhilarating atmosphere of the race, hopeful that the night would hold some surprises, even if Heeseung's name was absent from the list of competitors.

Snapping you out of your thoughts, Jake directed a question to both you and Jay, inquiring, "Who are you guys rooting for?" Jay was quick to respond, his eyes bright with enthusiasm. "I'm rooting for the guy named Jungwon on that bright blue bike. He seems like an underdog, you know?" Jake couldn't resist poking fun at Jay's choice. "So cheesy," he remarked, provoking Jay to playfully flip him off. Turning to you, Jake's curiosity was evident in his expression as he asked, "What about you, YN?" You pondered for a moment, a mischievous glint in your eye as you gave your answer. "Hmm, maybe that Sunghoon guy, on the black bike. He seems hot," you added, punctuating your response with a giggle. Jay shook his head in mock exasperation, but he couldn't hide a smile. "I'm not even surprised." As the three of you continued to chat and enjoy the electric atmosphere, the announcer's voice broke through, "RACERS, START YOUR ENGINES!" The crowd erupted into cheers, blending with the powerful roar of the motorcycles.

"READY…SET…GO!" The announcer's command was met with a symphony of revving engines, and in an instant, the racers sped off on the manmade track, weaving between the imposing pillars of the bridge above. The sound of the engines and the fervent cheers from the crowd captivated you, and your gaze remained fixed on the racers as they disappeared into the distance, the race now in full swing.

The race unfolded with an intoxicating blend of speed, skill, and sheer adrenaline. The racers zipped around the tight corners and weaved through the narrow gaps between the bridge's pillars, their powerful machines roaring like wild beasts. The air was filled with the intoxicating scent of gasoline and burnt rubber, adding to the sensory overload that engulfed the crowd. The race was paired with commentary by the announcer, “In the lead is ace! Are we surprised? That white bike is a godsend!”

As the racers maneuvered with lightning precision, the crowd couldn't help but be entranced by the sheer spectacle before them. Spectators cheered as their chosen favorites powered through the track, and collective gasps echoed through the audience whenever a close call or a daring move occurred. The atmosphere was electric, charged with the shared excitement of everyone in attendance. Another comment was made by the announcer, “Woah! Look at jungwon pulling through and passing ace on his left! Will this be the first race he wins?”

“I told you guys. Always root for the underdog,” Jay chimes, but your eyes are glued to sunghoon and his black bike.

Amidst the collective fervor, you found yourself mesmerized, your eyes locked onto the racers as they sped past. The world outside the race ceased to exist for those moments, and you were drawn into the raw energy of the event, feeling the vibrations of the engines in your chest and the rush of the wind in your hair. “Here come’s sunghoon! Passing jungwon on his right, and making his way towards the finish line!” Says the announcer.

The announcer's voice crackled through the speakers, adding to the electrifying atmosphere. "WOAH, WOAH!! HERE COMES ACE RIGHT BEHIND SUNGHOON! WHO WILL WIN? THE TWO ARE SIDE BY SIDE, WILL IT BE A TIE? THE FINISH LINE IS RIGHT THERE, AND… ALMOST A PHOTO FINISH! BUT THE WINNER OF THE RACE IS SUNGHOON!"

As the crowd erupted in joyous celebration, the cheers of the spectators seemed to reverberate in perfect harmony with the racing engines. You were swept up in the excitement, joining the chorus of voices, and even rising to your feet as you cheered for Sunghoon, the victor of the race. The thrill of witnessing such a close contest was invigorating, and you couldn't help but be caught up in the jubilation around you. With a playful tone and a hint of what-ifs, you turned to your two friends and exclaimed, "Damn, we should've bet on it. Missed opportunity!" The boys laughed along with you, the infectious joy of the moment drawing them into the celebration. Together, you stood and cheered for Sunghoon, basking in the shared experience of witnessing an extraordinary race and its exhilarating conclusion.

The exhilarating atmosphere of the race drew you, Jay, and Jake, along with the rest of the crowd, to approach the racers as they dismounted their bikes. The audience showered the racers with an array of cheers and encouraging words, from "good job!" to "you'll win next time!" to admiring comments about their impressive machines. As you and your friends navigated your way through the dispersing crowd, you found yourselves face to face with Jungwon, the racer who had been your friend Jay's underdog favorite. Eager to express your admiration, you initiated the conversation, addressing him with warmth, "Hey, Jungwon, right? You were so cool! I thought you were gonna win for a second there!" Jungwon's face lit up with gratitude, and he replied with a sincere smile, "Thank you so much! I thought so too, but I had nooo chance against Ace and Sunghoon." Jay, ever the enthusiast, extended a firm handshake in that classic man-to-man fashion. "Bro! I was rooting for you from the start. You'll see me at the next race," he proclaimed with enthusiasm, earning a "thank you" from Jungwon. With that, the three of you moved on to the next racer, Sunghoon, eager to share your appreciation with the winner.

Sunghoon leaned casually on his sleek black bike, a striking figure with an air of confidence that immediately caught your attention. Up close, you couldn't deny how incredibly handsome he looked, and you were taken aback by his allure. Summoning your courage, you approached the winner, introducing yourself in a soft, friendly tone, "Hi Sunghoon, I'm YN. Congrats on the win, handsome." The compliment had its intended effect, and Sunghoon's eyes focused on you. "Well, hello, Miss YN. Nice to meet you," Sunghoon responded with a smirk, revealing a sharp canine tooth and a dimple that sent a shiver down your spine. You felt yourself blushing in response to his charm. Sunghoon's flirtatious banter continued as he inquired, "You were rooting for me, pretty girl?" He leaned in a little closer, his voice dripping with playful seduction. You met his flirtatious challenge with a sly smile. "Maybe… maybe not," you replied, adding a teasing playfulness to your tone. He feigned disappointment, a twinkle in his eye as he teased, "What a shame, I was gonna offer you a ride." Playing along, you flirtatiously touched his arm, your confidence growing with every word. "Oh, come on, Hoonie, of course I was rooting for you," you confessed with a playful eye roll, a mischievous gleam in your eyes. Sunghoon rewarded your playful admission by tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, and for that moment, the world seemed to narrow down to the two of you, engaged in a playful dance of flirtation amidst the post-race excitement. The nickname you garnered for him was definitely working in your favor.

You were so deeply engrossed in your conversation with Sunghoon that you remained oblivious to the intense gaze fixed upon you from the second-place racer, Ace. He watched you with something akin to jealousy, uncertain whether he should approach. Leaving you and Sunghoon in your own world, Jay and Jake made their way over to Ace to offer their congratulations. Jake, always one for humor, attempted to lighten the mood with a lighthearted comment. "Hey, man! You were so cool out there. Second place is still good. Don't be discouraged. I'm sure all these girls still want you," he quipped, though he hadn't realized that Ace's attention was on him. Ace's initial jealousy quickly transformed into a friendly demeanor as he responded, "Yo, thanks for that, haha. Almost won, but I'll win the next one for sure." Jay chimed in with an encouraging pat on Ace's shoulder before the two of them began to walk away. However, Ace couldn’t keep it to himself. He called out to Jay and Jake, nodding in your direction while still engaged in conversation with Sunghoon. "Hey, do you know that girl?" he inquired, his interest piqued. Jay answered without hesitation, a friendly tone in his voice as he looked back toward Ace. "Yeah, that’s yn! We're friends. She came here with us," he explained, his focus now shifting as he moved away from the racer, joining Jake in heading back in your direction, leaving Ace with his thoughts as you continued your conversation with Sunghoon.

As the evening wound down and Jay and Jake were ready to head home, you and Sunghoon decided to exchange numbers, creating a playful connection. Sunghoon, with a charming wink, remarked, "Call me when you wanna ride, beautiful." Your response was just as flirty, "I'll call you when I want to, Hoonie," and you playfully blew him a kiss. As you began to walk away, ready to rejoin your friends in the car, Sunghoon made his way over to Ace, eager to share his little victory. "Bro, I just got the hottest girl's number, and—" Sunghoon began, but before he could finish, Ace roared away on his bike, his jealousy simmering beneath the surface. With your two friends already in the car, you confidently made your way toward them, your spirits high. For that moment, Heeseung had slipped from your thoughts, and the excitement of connecting with Sunghoon filled your mind. However, just as you were about ten feet away from Jay's car, a white motorcycle suddenly cut in front of you, blocking your path to your friends. Startled, you took a step back, your heart racing, and realized that the rider was one of the racers. You cautiously addressed him, "Oh, Jesus Christ, you scared me. Ace, right?" His helmet obscured his face as he nodded, and he proceeded to take it off, revealing his identity.

Your heart sank as the white helmet came off, revealing the vibrant purple hair that had grown longer since you last saw him. The shock washed over you like a tidal wave, and your eyes scanned his familiar face, unable to believe that he was standing there before you, just as he had been months ago. His eyes, large and twinkling, bore into yours, the same way they had done when you first met. "H-Heeseung?" was all you could manage to stammer. The excitement you had felt only moments ago had evaporated, replaced by a rush of tears welling up in your eyes. Every emotion you had held back for months now poured out, glistening like rivers of glittering light. The overwhelming flood of feelings left you lost and unsure of how to proceed. Heeseung spoke, his voice breaking the silence, "Yn, I missed you pretty girl.” But you couldn't handle it. The anger and sadness mixed inside you, driving you to act on impulse. "I can't do this right now, Heeseung. I-I gotta go," you uttered, your voice quivering with raw emotion. You turned and ran towards Jay's car, where the two boys had witnessed the entire interaction. Climbing into the vehicle, you were met with a barrage of concerning questions from your friends. "I'll answer once you start driving. Please. Please start driving," you implored. Jay promptly obeyed your request and sped out of the lot, the car now on the road, the boys eager to ask their questions.

Jake spoke up first, his voice tinged with disbelief, "Yn, who was that?" "Heeseung…" you replied, your voice quivering. "Oh my god, what?!" Jake exclaimed. "Heeseung? Like in, Heeseung Heeseung?" Jay asked, his surprise mirroring Jake's. "Yes, Jay. Heeseung Heeseung. Oh my god, what was he doing there?" you lamented, your words spilling out in a mixture of confusion and emotion. "Wait, isn't this what you wanted, Yn? Why are you so upset?" Jake inquired, trying to make sense of your reaction. You paused, a heavy sigh escaping your lips before you responded, "…because… where has he been? I've spent months, nearly half a year wondering when he'd show up—waiting for him like some lost puppy. And now all of a sudden, I see him today, surrounded by a crowd of girls, only talking to me because I was hitting it off with Sunghoon? I just… I just don't know what's going on. And just now, he says he missed me? Bullshit. Absolute bullshit. He knows where I live; if he missed me so much, he would've visited. I waited months, guys. MONTHS. I just… I'm so—" Jay cut off your rambling rant, his voice filled with understanding and empathy. "Yn, my love, it's okay. Let's get you that burger." In your teary, emotional state, you couldn't help but let out a faint laugh, appreciating Jay's attempt to lighten the mood. Jake reached his hand to the backseat to comfort you, and you clung to it as he gently rubbed circles into your hand. As you sat there, feeling a whirlwind of emotions and confusion, you were grateful that your friends were by your side, offering their support and understanding in your time of need.

With the comforting presence of your friends and the burger in your stomach, you finally arrived home. Jay and Jake had offered to spend the night with you, but you assured them that you appreciated their support but wanted some time alone with your thoughts. Feeling too drained to remove your makeup and outfit, you flopped onto your couch, face-first, and screamed into a throw pillow. The weight of the day and the unexpected encounter with Heeseung left your mind in a tumultuous state. As you lay there, lost in your thoughts, exhaustion overcame you, and you drifted into an uneasy slumber. Some odd hours later, you were startled awake by a persistent knocking on your door. At first, you attempted to ignore it, hoping the person would go away, but the knocking persisted. Reluctantly, you dragged yourself up and went to inspect the door through the peephole. What you saw on the other side took your breath away: a head of purple hair, Heeseung, standing at your doorstep.

Anger surged through your body as you swung the door open, and a torrent of questions spilled from your lips, "What do you want? Why are you here? Why did it take you so long to see me?" The frustration that had been simmering inside you for months finally found its voice, and it was directed squarely at the person who could provide answers. Heeseung began to speak, attempting to explain himself, but you couldn't bear to let him finish. The words tumbled out of you, fueled by the emotions that had been building up over time. "No, Heeseung. Do you know how long I've been waiting for you? How much I wished every motorcycle that passed me on the street was you? I've been so…" The emotional dam broke, and tears cascaded down your cheeks as your voice quivered with pent-up pain and frustration. Heeseung, rather than offering words, brought you into a gentle embrace, his strong arms wrapping around you, and his hand softly patting your head. His voice was a soothing whisper in your ear, "Shh, shh… I'm here now, pretty girl. I'm here. I'm sorry." His comforting presence and reassuring touch allowed you to release your bottled-up emotions. You allowed yourself to cry in his arms, feeling a mixture of anger, relief, and longing all at once. Despite your anger at him in this moment, you couldn't deny that his embrace was warm and welcoming, and it offered a sense of solace that you hadn't realized you had been yearning for.

You and heeseung were now sitting on the couch, cuddling in the darkness of your living room. You decide to break the silence, “Can we talk now, hee?” He begins to play with your hair, offering you a quiet hum in response. “Where have you been? Why haven’t you visited me?” You ask the questions that plagued your mind the most. "Yn, I'm truly sorry for disappearing like that. I had my reasons, but I understand how much it hurt you. I needed some time to sort things out in my life. It's not an excuse, but I want you to know that I've missed you every day, and I regret not being there for you. I'm here now, and I want to make it right, if you'll have me" he answers. “How do I know you’re telling the truth, heeseung? I mean, the first time I saw you today, you were surrounded by all these girls, and how do I know you won’t leave again?” You ask. "I understand your doubts, baby, and I don't blame you for being cautious. The girls today were just fans, and I was trying to keep a low profile. I promise you, I won't disappear again. I want to make it up to you and prove that I'm committed to being in your life. Actions speak louder than words, and I'm willing to show you through my actions that you can trust me." You let out a quiet sigh, “I want to trust you heeseung, I really do. But Im so scared of getting hurt again. Why did you decide to help me out that one day? The day we met? Do you do that to other girls? "I completely understand your fear, Yn. I helped you that day because you seemed like someone genuinely in need, and I felt a connection with you from the start. I don't do that for other girls; our meeting was special and unique. I can't promise you won't ever get hurt, but I can promise that I'll do my best to be there for you and be honest with you. I want to make things right between us. Seriously, my pretty girl” heeseung claims, shifting his body so you guys are face to face now.

As Yn looked into Heeseung's eyes, she saw a sincerity she hadn't seen in a long time. Her heart was still cautious, but the warmth of his embrace had melted some of the ice around it. "Let's take it one step at a time, my “love Heeseung said gently. "I won't rush you, and I'll do my best to earn your trust. We can figure this out together, princess.” Yn nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She was unsure of what the future held, but for the first time in months, she felt a glimmer of hope. As the night continued, they talked, laughed, and shared stories. Yn realized that Heeseung had changed, and maybe she had too. They both had scars, but perhaps together, they could heal. The story of Yn and Heeseung wasn't over; it was just beginning. And for the first time in a long time, they both felt like they were exactly where they were supposed to be.

“Lee Heeseung, if you disappear on me again, I swear to god. Don’t forget I still have sunghoon’s number!” You playfully hit Heeseung. “Okay, okay! Message received ma’am! Now I have a question.” You respond with a hum. “Now who was that boy holding your hand earlier? At the race? Hm?” You laugh and respond teasingly, “Baby, that’s Jake. You really don’t have to worry about him. He’s like my little puppy!”

“My love, you do realize how wrong that sounds?” Heeseung laughs.

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