#I heard this series drops the ball pretty quickly but this beginning is pretty good

[true-deru]

Kaiju no 8 definitely gets my vote for freakiest opening of the year~

[ququb444hm]

𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭, 𝐜𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝

part 31 / old man ☆

masterlist

important note!! there is the implication of a panic attack in this part so if that makes u uncomfortable, please do not continue reading! i am sorry in advance if i offend anyone by the way i write out the panic attack. i have not experienced one before and am basing the information solely on research i have done beforehand as well as the experiences of my friends. and for anyone who has experienced a panic attack, U R ONE OF THE STRONGEST PEOPLE EVER!

“geez, the school needs to start providing free umbrellas or something!” coach ukai exclaimed. he stared at his two players and team manager– tetsu, kozume, and yn were all dripping wet and shivering from the intense weather. “we’re ending practice a bit early so just grab a towel and dry yourselves up a bit or go take a quick shower in the locker room so you at least don’t catch a cold before the game next week.”

“yes, coach.” the three nodded, quickly making their way to the showers.

“yn!” mori called out, running up to his friend with a hoodie in hand. “change into this after so you’re not cold.”

yn eyed the material, smirking once she realized who it belonged to. “did rinnie give this to you?” she mused, “ohoho, so are you guys talking or what?”

“oh shut up, go take a shower. you smell like wet dog.” mori grumbled, shoving the hoodie into yn’s arms. yn giggled, thanking mori before heading into the girls locker room.

(note: guys.. i don’t actually ship mori n rin LOL js a disclaimer bc ik (or im pretty sure) they like haven’t met in the actual series…? they’re more of a sub-plot like cece n tetsu bc i love side character lore! anyways back to the storyyy)

once yn was done freshening up, she joined coach ukai and mr. takeda on the bleachers to talk about the game. "the team is looking good," coach examined. he watched as the players went up against each other in a quick match. "i just don't know what to do about kozume and keiji." he rubbed the back of his neck, deep in thought as he analyzed the papers yn gave him last practice.

"what do you mean?" yn asked. she didn't recall writing anything weird about the two.

coach ukai shrugged. "maybe it's because i've known these kids since they were freshmen, but something just feels off between the two. i compared your notes from the beginning of the semester to last week, and there's a slight decline in their abilities."

yn furrowed her brows, taking the papers from coach ukai to see the difference herself. "a decline?" her eyes scanned the data and much to her surprise, he was right. kozume's agility went down by 2.5% and keiji's been struggling to successfully set the ball up for kou which puts the team at a big disadvantage since kou is normally always on the court and has the most trust in keiji to send him the ball.

(note again: idk what i js pulled out of my ass w this one >o< i don’t play volley but wtvr! :3)

"speaking of kozume and keiji, where are they?" mr. takeda piped up. tetsurou finished showering at the same time as yn and was currently talking to a few members, assumingly giving them tips for next week, but kozume was still nowhere to be seen. there couldn’t have been only one working shower right? 

"bokuto!" coach ukai called out, "where's your setter?"

"uhh-" kou looked around, "not on the court, coach!"

keishin groaned. "well, obviously.."

"keiji is in the locker room, pretty sure.” kei answered instead. he heard the setter excuse himself to grab something in the locker room, but what would he need in there when they usually dropped their things off on the bleachers? the middle blocker shrugged it off, not caring too much about his upperclassman.

“uhm i think kozume is also still in there.” shoyou added. his eyes met yn’s, both of them starting to feel a bit uneasy after talking about the two last night. “do you want me to go grab them?” keishin sighed, motioning for shoyou to retrieve the two missing players.

as shoyou neared the red-painted metal doors, his ears picked up keiji’s voice. he sounded annoyed. really annoyed. “you can’t be seriously telling me you won’t leave yn alone, right? right? kozume c’mon,” keiji laughed in mockery, his voice was getting a bit louder, but not loud enough to reach the ears of the other people on the other side of the gym. “you’re just going to keep hurting her. she doesn’t deserve that. you don’t deserve her.”

“like you have any place to talk,” kozume barked back. though not as aggravated as keiji, kozume was firm with his words. “you made yn feel unimportant the whole time the two of you were in a relationship. you were the one who had an interest in her first, yet you barely took the time to show any effort. you couldn’t even go to one of the most important events in her life! she worked so hard, she always does, for the annual art exhibition, but you forgot about it.”

“i had an important meeting that day-” keiji tried to reason.

kozume only scoffed. “oh please.”

“okay. fine.” shoyou could hear heavy footsteps. keiji was corning kozume into the lockers. he pressed an accusing finger against his chest. “missing the art exhibition was a dick move, but am i the one who’s going for their friend’s ex? am i the one who would publicly reject yn, yet give her mixed signals behind closed doors, continuously confusing her and manipulating her feelings? am i the one who can’t make up his mind, slowly declining yn’s mental and emotional well-being? no, kozume, i’m not. you are. know your place. yn doesn’t need you.”

it was quiet for a few seconds before shoyou could hear keiji’s footsteps walking toward the door he was pressing his ear against. in a quick panic, the ginger hid behind a nearby scoreboard until he saw keiji far enough to where he wouldn’t see the worried sophomore slip into the locker room.

“kozume!” shoyou cried out. the blond was in a fetal position on the floor against the lockers. he rocked back and forth, the frantic movement almost causing him to hit his head against the hard metal. his breathing was short and unstable, almost like he was choking. it was even more difficult to breathe due to his strained cries. the state of his close friend made shoyou sick to his stomach, his body trembled, not knowing what to do. “what- whats happening?!” he tried to prevent kozume from accidentally injuring himself, but once his hand made contact with kozume’s shoulder, the blond slapped his hand away.

“don’t touch me!” he cried out. his eyes grew in panic, everything around him was overwhelming him past his limit.

shoyou fell back at the sudden impact, “kozume-”

“i’m sorry,” kozume dug his head back into his arms. “i’m sorry i’m sorry i’m sorry i’m sorry i’m sorry-” he repeated the same words over and over again, each apology more desperate than the last. ‘i hit shoyou? why did i hit shoyou?’ “i didn’t mean it- i didn’t i-” his voice was restless, saying the same thing over and over as his mind grew louder by the second. ‘i hurt shoyou. i hurt yn. i can’t stop. i don’t know what to do. i can’t stop. it hurts. everything hurts. i hurt yn. my heart wont shut up. it’s so loud. everything is so loud. please shut up. please shut up. shut up. shut up. shut up-’

“kozume i don’t know what to do!” shoyou sobbed. the situation was getting to much for him, he needed to call someone for help. “i’m going to get yn, she’ll know what to do-”

“SHUT UP.” shoyou stopped in his tracks, body cold at the sudden yell. kozume’s head jerked up at his own words, disbelief written across his face. was he the one who yelled that? “please don’t get yn. please- shoyou please.” he was tirelessly begging. tears constructing his vision enough to not even know if shoyou was opening the door or not. “please. please don’t call yn. i don’t- she can’t know. please. i’m sorry i yelled. i’m sorry- just. just- don’t move.”

shoyou slowly removed his hand from the door handle. his movements were slow, scared that he might suddenly alarm kozume again. he squeezed his eyes shut, breathing long and slow to calm his nerves so that he could at least provide some sort of ease to kozume. “okay…” he whispered, slowly opening his eyes. shoyou bent down to kozume’s level, leaving a foot of space between them as he tried to calm the blond’s nerves as he just did his own. “it’s okay koz. it’s okay.” continuing the breathing exercise he was previously doing, shoyou used his hands to motion each inhale, each hold of breath, and each exhale. 

“i’m sorry.” kozume murmured, unable to meet shoyou’s gaze. he was slowly regaining stable breathing, the pain in his chest diminishing. 

“don’t apologize!” shoyou scolded. “i’m the one who should say sorry, kozume.” the ginger choked back his tears, refraining from overwhelming his friend. “i didn’t know what to do and i couldn’t help you..”

kozume shook his head, “you did help, sho. thank you.” a small smile graced his features, reassuring his friend.

the two sat in silence for a few minutes until shoyou decided to let his curiosity flow free. “kozume, can i ask you something?” the blonde nodded. “what's happening between you and keiji? and why can’t yn know about this? why are you hiding it from her?”

kozume let out a weak laugh. “that’s more than just a something.” 

“sorry, i just don’t get it!” shoyou whined. “yn likes you, a lot, and i thought you really like yn too. so why are u letting keiji get in the way and talk you down like that? why are you so afraid of letting yourself be happy?”

the familiar question rang through kozume’s mind. a previous conversation from tetsurou suddenly resurfacing.

“are you afraid of letting yourself be happy or something? look, i’m not saying you should’ve prevented keiji from asking yn out, but you’ve liked my sister since what? the second grade? and you just let some new guy sweep her off her feet? that’s just crazy, man! i know for a fact that he could never have the same connection you and her have, trust me, i’m like psychic or something. i know you’re the better person–- the only person, actually, for yn.” 

“it’s not that…” kozume groaned. “i’m afraid that…if yn and i do become something more than what we are now, i’ll disappoint her more than i already do. what if, once we start dating, she realizes she doesn’t actually like me?”

shoyou frowned. keiji’s words were dug deep into kozume’s heart. nothing he could say, no amount of reassurance could ever directly change kozume’s mindset. it needed to come from her–

knock. knock. knock. 

“sho? kozume? are you guys okay? i- uhm we’re getting worried…you two have been in there for a long time, is everything okay?”

there she was. the only person who could dissolve all of keiji’s cruel words from kozume’s distraught soul. 

“sorry, we’ll be out in a sec, nn!” shoyou called out. he reached a hand out for kozume to take. “are you okay to go outside?”

the blonde took a deep breath. “we have a game next week, don’t we?” he placed his hand on shoyou’s, pulling himself up.

the two opened the door to reveal yn’s big doe eyes brimming with concern. “what happened? did you lose your towel? was the water too cold?” she enveloped kozume’s hands into her own, feeling the difference in temperature. “if you didn’t have any warm water, you should’ve told us! taking a cold shower after being soaked in the rain isn’t good for you!” 

“hey!” coach ukai irked, already frustrated that kozume would only have less than an hour to practice. “stop feeling the boy up and let him get his ass to work!”

yn’s eye twitched at the suggestive assumption. she quipped her head at keishin and flipped him off. “shut up, old man!”

part 30 sassy man apocalypse <- | masterlist | -> part 32 nipples in a twist

note(s): hnnghghghgrfijwfmgh next part is a text msg part

✩⡱ taglist !! + @writing-for-the-hell-of-it @sherryuki-callmeyuki @anny-bah @ast4rg1rl @sukunasrealgf @dani-shitting-around @whokillednyx @vernon-dursley @limaswife @sugawara-levi @sixxze @ryoiii @literally-a-ferret @444sunarin @llearlert @lloyd4x @usermins @2baddies-1porsche @vernon-dursley @lyzisbitchingagain @h3xi2g0n3 @l0v3do11 lmk if u want to be added (msg or inbox)ヾ(･ω･`；)ﾉ

[lovetorn]

soccer game [roommate!dream au]

pairing: dream x f!reader

summary: roommate!dream watches your college soccer game

w/c: 1.3k+

a/n: turning this into a mini blurb series maybe? if people want it? lmk guys!! enjoy this :)

roommate!dream masterlist

—

“Is he here?” Your best friend, Niki, asks. You shake your head, looking at the bleachers, unable to spot your 6’3” roommate, Dream.

“He probably won’t even come. I only mentioned it last night and I heard Sapnap telling him they had plans with the team today, so I don’t know,” You say, tightening the laces of your soccer boots. You ignore the looks Niki gives you.

Your coach clears his throat and after he catches the attention of the rest of the team, he begins.

“Ok, this is our biggest game of the season. We have to win,” He says and there are multiple cheers from your teammates in reply.

He reads out the team list and soon enough, the referee is blowing his whistle. You stand from your spot in the team circle and shield your eyes from the sun to try and search the crowd for Dream. With no luck, you sigh and run onto the field to take your position.

You look over your team, clad in black and white, and then over to the other team who are in red. The first half goes by fairly quickly, despite it being 45 minutes long. The score is 9-7 to the other team and your teammates are starting to get annoyed by their dirty plays.

As you run off the field, you hear someone call your name. You turn to the right and see Dream, dressed in a white hoodie, black jeans, and socks and slides. You roll your eyes at his choice of footwear and grab your water bottle before you jog over to him. Breathing heavily, you stop in front of him.

“You came!” You exclaim, smiling brightly at him, ignoring the way your chest warms at the sight of Dream wearing your team’s colours. Dream nods, his hair falling in his eyes. You almost reach up and brush it to the side but he beats you to it.

“I did! The plans with the team fell through and there was nothing to do so, here I am,” He smiles. The idea that you were a second option makes your stomach flip, but he’s here. You smile up at him, your hand moving to rest on your forehead to block out the setting winter sun.

“Well, thanks for coming—I know it’s not as exciting as your team,” You take a sip of your water bottle. “But at least you actually came”

“And you’re actually pretty alright at soccer,” Dream teases, flicking your forehead. You scrunch up your nose and slap his hand away.

“Yeah, thanks.” You joke, swinging your arm that holds your bottle, back and forth.

Dream laughs. “No! I didn’t mean it sarcastically—I knew you were good at this but—ugh.” His head lands in his palms and you squint at him. The tips of his ears are red and when he pulls his face away, his cheeks are tinted pink. You choose not to comment.

“I got it, Dream,” You laugh, taking a few steps backwards. “Listen, I gotta go...” You throw your thumb over your shoulder.

“Yes! Sorry. See you after the game?” He asks as you turn around, giving him a thumbs-up behind you. Your gaze drops to your boots as you return to your team who are all standing, ready for the whistle.

“Whose that?” A girl in your team asks, pointing at Dream’s retreating figure. You turn to look back at him, your eyes following his broad shoulders.

“My roommate.”

“Is he single?” She giggles.

You nearly choke, but scoff and laugh it off. “Very.” You don’t miss the way she shares a look with another girl and the pair start giggling together.

You brush off the odd feeling in your chest and glance over your shoulder until you find the blonde again. He sits in the middle of the bleachers, his hands on his knees and his gaze on you. Your eyes widen and you face your team again. You suddenly feel self-conscious in your uniform and start noticing all the areas that are slightly too tight. Pulling at your shorts, you place your water bottle back with your bag and rejoin the team before the referee blows his whistle indicating the second half.

You exhale slowly, ready for the next 45 minutes of intense gameplay. Taking your position on the field, your eyes fall in the direction of Dream. You nearly miss the sound of the starting whistle and the other team kicking off.

Sprinting up the field, you take the ball off of a blonde girl in red and dribble it towards the goal. You pass it across the middle and Niki kicks it at the goal. Although, the goalie is too quick and stops it before it can hit the back of the net. You groan and look at the sky.

You jog backwards to watch the goalie kick the ball into the air and feel a pair of eyes on you and immediately become hyper-aware of them. Dream’s gaze is distracting—but nonetheless, you run up the field, again, and call for the ball before kicking it into the net. This time, the goal lands and the referee blows his whistle to mark a goal. Your eyes widen and you throw your arms in the air, laughing. Your teammates run towards you, giving you high-fives and side hugs, before moving back into their starting positions.

You stop yourself from glancing at Dream, but you’re too excited. Your eyes meet his and you notice his bright smile. He gives you a thumbs up and you roll your eyes playfully, grinning back at him. The vibrancy of green eyes watching your every move keeps you on your toes.

The game continues like this for a while—your team scoring goal after goal and only letting in 2 from the other team. The game rolls to a close and you’re exhausted. Your coach subbed you off in the middle of the half and then put you back on with 10 minutes left—which is when you scored your second goal of the game. The adrenaline that coursed through your veins is wearing off now and the full extent of your tiredness is hitting you.

The whistle is blown to signal the end of the game and then you’re cheering again. 14-11 to your team.

After celebrating with your team, most of the crowd had dispersed from the bleachers and the other team left. You grab your bag and water bottle from its spot on the ground next to the bench and laugh at something Niki says.

You hear your name, deep and loud, and lift your head to see Dream, again. You bid Niki goodbye and make your way towards the blonde.

“Why are you still here?” You laugh, falling into step beside him. You notice he's walking towards the car park.

Dream digs around in his pocket before he replies. “Need a lift home?” He smiles, dangling his keys next to his head.

You giggle and nod, shoving him lightly. "I would love one." His hoodie under your fingertips is worn, and the intention behind him wearing it causes your heart to race slightly.

“Did you like the game? I know it drags on forever and it’s boring at times but—”

Dream mumbles your name. “I really enjoyed it, it was fun,” He then says, his face dusted pink. “And you were really good.”

You almost don’t hear the last part, but as soon as you catch it, you feel your cheeks heat up. “Oh, uh, thanks, Dream.”

The silence that hangs in the air is comfortable, but an underlying vehemence leaves your head buzzing and your skin on fire.

"Maybe I'm your lucky charm," He grins cheekily, his voice back to usual with a hint of cockiness. "Since you only scored goals when I was there."

You roll your eyes. "Shut up."

[emeren]

special night - eren jaeger

anon request

pairing: eren jaeger x virgin!reader

word count: 2.5k 

content warnings: 18+, smut, nsfw, vanilla sex, first time  

notes: i wanted to make this as realistic to a first time as possible, so it’s not an *extremely* enjoyable experience for the reader, however eren makes up for it by providing some very sweet aftercare :) nevertheless, i hope you enjoy! <3 also, this one shot made me realize that i much prefer writing in past tense, so this may be the last present tense fic for awhile!

SUMMARY: reader experiences her first time on her wedding night with eren

“shit,” eren curses under his breath, the sound coming out more exasperated than he’d initially intended. you glance nervously over your shoulder, a small smile playing at your lips. “why’d you have to pick a dress with so many buttons?” 

“s’pretty,” you grin, the ache in the balls of your feet and the burning behind your eyes begging you to rest. you feel eren’s lips press a kiss into your shoulder, goosebumps following the romantic gesture. 

“no doubt about that,” he responds softly, fingers quickly trying to undo the long line of buttons receding down your spine. his mouth ghosts the skin of your back, peppering small kisses all over the flesh. “you looked so beautiful tonight.” 

you can feel your face heat, not sure whether or not it was due to the copious amounts of champagne or the way your newly deemed husband made you feel. he was reaching the buttons at the base of your back, breath fanning across your shoulders. you were nervous, but the overwhelming excitement was enough to distract you. 

“fucking finally,” eren chuckles darkly, tugging the last button from its place. you let the fabric fall from beneath your shoulders, breasts exposed as your heart thuds in your chest. 

he’s sitting on the bed behind you, large hands coming up to softly caress your chest as you step from the gown. it falls in a puff on the floor, your eyes nervously batting as eren’s thumb and middle finger roll over your nipple. his hands are cold but inviting, gently kneading at the flesh.  

“sit on my lap?” he suggests. you can’t see his eyes, but they trace the curvature of your figure and rest on your nearly exposed ass, covered by a pair of white, lacy panties. he can hardly contain himself, cock hardening at just the implication of finally being able to embed himself within you. 

he knew you were nervous; he’d long ago decided that he was going to do whatever possible to make you comfortable. a sigh leaves his lips as you carefully sit on his lap, leaning your back against his chest. 

your eyes trace the dark city skyline in the distance, a bubble of excitement in your stomach. eren was already undressed, save for his black boxers. he presses a series of kisses against your neck, hands giving your breasts a purposeful squeeze. you don’t mean to let a small moan slip past your mouth, but once it does you can feel eren’s dick twitch beneath your ass. 

he’s patient with you; something you love about him. you shift slightly, eren groaning out against your shoulder as you do so. there’s a shared tension between the two of you, bubbling up at the smallest discrepancies. 

“you take the lead, m’kay?” he mumbles against you, face growing red as you squirm around on his lap. his hands travel from your chest to your hips, actions contradicting his words as he aids in your grinding on top of his cock. “shit, ah.” 

 your heart is drumming in your chest, craning your neck so you can get a good look at your husband. his face is flushed, bun messy from hours of partying and green eyes intently focused on the place where your bodies meet. as if sensing your gaze, he lazily looks up to you. 

wordlessly your lips meet, carefully and sensually enveloping each other. though it was your wedding day, this was only the second time you’d been able to basque in eren’s glow. the way his mouth makes your chest burn, or the way he tastes like cake and liquor. his tongue drags along your bottom lip, a precursor to the torment he’s about to cause with his teeth. 

you giggle as he tugs at your lip, heart swelling as he drops it just to press his mouth against yours in a particularly loving kiss. your head feels dizzy, a mix of nerves and suspense twisting itself within you. 

you turn so that you’re straddling eren’s waist, swinging your right thigh over his legs. his hands come up to cup your face, hot, burning on your tongue as eren continues to abuse your lips. your breathing is heavy as the friction against your clit grows stronger, rocking yourself back and forth. 

you pull your lips away with a light smack, watching as a small string of saliva connects your mouths. eren’s eyes are hazy and lustful, a light blush on his angular cheekbones. he blinks up at you slowly, waiting for you to speak. 

“i’m ready,” you huff out, swallowing any nervousness you had previously accumulated. a small smile tugged at his features, hand coming up to stroke your cheek. 

“me too,” he grins, giving you one last peck before guiding you off of his lap and onto the bed. the hotel sheets are cool against your skin, fingers coming up to nervously play with the hem of your panties. eren’s eyes catch the movement. “hey, we’ll take it slow, alright?” 

you can’t help the way his words wash over you like a comforting blanket, smiling softly as he slips his boxers off. you’d heard so much about what to expect from both sasha and mikasa, but you felt as though all of their coaching could only do so much. 

you and eren had done pretty much everything save for the final act, so there were no feelings of surprise as his fingers slipped past the band of your panties, sliding against your center. 

his gaze is prying, making sure you’re comfortable with his every move. your breath hitches as he slips his first two digits inside of you, a slight smirk on his lips. 

“m’gonna fill you up so nice,” his voice is gravelly, eyes dark as he watches you react to his every ministration. eren’s fingers are long, curling upwards inside of you and causing a whimper to leave your throat. it’s not long until he has you climbing in your pleasure, head pressing back against the mattress in an attempt to contain yourself. 

“ready, love?” he asks softly, your breath shaky as his thumb presses against your clit. the question makes you sweat, eagerly nodding your head in fear that your words would fail you. from above, eren’s brows knit together and he curls his fingers even deeper. “need to hear you say it.” 

his fingers are so goddamn distracting. “yes, i’m ready.” you whimper, slowly blinking up at him. 

his fingers slip from inside of you, hands instead coming up to tug your panties down. you lift your ass for him, watching the way he leans down to press a kiss to your temple as the panties are discarded to the side. 

you’d seen the sheer size of eren’s cock before. you’d sat on it, stroked it; hell, you’d even choked on it before. this time, however, it was more formidable. large and veiny, you stare as eren’s hand pumps up and down his shaft quickly in preparation. 

all the nervousness and anticipation seems to melt as you meet his eyes, green and reassuring. he leans down on one arm above you, the other positioning the tip of his dick at your entrance. 

his lips meet yours in an unanticipated kiss, mumbling against you. “i love you.” 

with that he slowly pushes his cock inside of you, the sensation painful and filling all the same. your face involuntarily scrunches up, a small whimper leaving your lips. 

“all good?” eren checks, pulling his head back to look at you. he doesn’t move his hips, giving you a moment to futilely adjust to his size. 

“yeah, just hurts,” you breathe, biting your lip at the discomfort between your legs. eren nods his head in understanding, holding himself still as not to overwhelm you. ignoring the stretch, your chest burns at how full and complete you feel with him. 

“wanna stop?” eren asks. his voice cracks slightly at the end, the sensation of you wrapped around his dick nearly enough to make him cum without movement. he doesn’t necessarily want to stop, but you know he’ll do whatever you wish. 

“no,” you reply softly, leaning up to kiss his bare shoulder. “just so big.” 

eren buries his head in your chest to keep you from seeing the egotistical smirk that crosses his features at your words. with a squeeze of his arm, he slowly begins to slide out of you before gently thrusting back in. 

the feeling is tight and strange. you can sense your forehead break out in a light sweat as eren’s hips begin to pick up pace. it hurts, but not in a horribly unfathomable way. the pain slowly begins to subside into a general discomfort as your husband groans above you. 

“fuck, you’re so tight,” his words send an unprecedented throb to your cunt, the feeling against eren’s cock making him release a throaty moan. you dig your nails into his shoulders, attempting to ward off tears as he pumps himself in and out of you. 

eren had been waiting for this moment, and fuck, did it feel a thousand times better than he could’ve imagined. his hips get lost in the rhythm as he wraps his lips around your exposed nipple, lightly sucking. 

the feeling of his tongue circling around your sensitive bud helps to relieve some of the pressure against your cervix. his hips are still moving carefully, as if you’re delicate and he’s too afraid to break you. 

his eyes flash up from your chest, noticing the way your nose is still scrunched in discomfort. to ease the pain, his large hand slips down to your clit and begins to gently rub against it. 

you let out a small sigh at the feeling, it working much better than you could’ve anticipated. 

the discomfort begins to minimize, aided by eren’s skilled fingers and his hot tongue. you can feel his cock sliding against your tight walls, your husband’s breathing beginning to stagger as he involuntarily bucks his hips a little faster. 

“eren,” you croak, the intensity of his cock filling you up accompanied by the increased pace of his fingers making the edges of your vision burn white. he releases his suction on your breast, lifting his head to brush his saliva coated lips against your own. 

the kiss is hot and sloppy, both of you struggling to maintain a constant rhythm as the pain in your cunt begins to morph into some sort of sadistic pleasure. 

eren’s hips are growing frantic, along with the deep, unfamiliar pressure in your stomach. it’s low and rumbling; amplified as his cock brushes against a particularly desirable spot within you. the white clouding your vision begins to spread, the warm tingling in your clit starting to arrive in waves. 

part of you wishes you could stay like this forever. something about becoming one with the man you love, inviting him in like a key in a lock, has you feeling better than you ever had before. you adored him, and he adored you. 

“cum for me,” eren growls, hand aggressively rubbing against your clit. you can’t deny the pressure any longer; vision growing blurry as one final, crashing wave of dopamine spreads itself to every nerve in your body. you don’t even realize you’re crying out till eren’s removing himself from within you, spurting his hot seed all over your bare stomach. though the discomfort is gone, you curse the emptiness that replaces it. all you crave is for him to be near you once again. “you did so good, my love.” 

your breathing is heavy and you feel sticky with sweat, eyes lazily watching as eren places a chaste kiss to your cheek. you want to fall asleep, exhausted from your loss of virginity. it had to be some obscene hour by now, but eren seemed to have more energy than he’d had during the reception. 

“let me clean you off,” his voice is soft, grabbing your hand and gently guiding you towards the bathroom. your legs are weak and your cunt is sore, gravity working against you as eren’s cum starts to drip down your stomach. 

you wince at the cold tile of the bathroom floor, eren getting a hand towel and haphazardly smearing his remnants from your flesh. he looks at you once more, adoration in his eyes as his hand traces your jaw. “start the bath for me? i need to go grab something.” 

your eyebrows knit together in confusion, hesitantly nodding your head while eren wraps himself in a white robe and disappears from the bathroom. you briefly imagine yourself falling asleep in the tub, chuckling lightly as you turn the tap on and plug the drain. 

sitting down on the edge of the tub, you find your tired mind replaying the events of the day, especially those within the past hour. it had to have been one of the best days of your life. armin’s best man speech, sasha’s wedding cake, your first dance with eren. your first time with eren. it all felt so surreal and magical. 

a couple minutes pass before eren’s slipping back into the bathroom, the whirring of the faucet behind you nearly lulling you into a daze. in one hand is a white paper bag, the other two mugs. you quirk a brow, eyeing him warily. 

“fries from room service, and some tea,” he grins, setting his bounty on the counter before sliding his robe off. you’d never get tired of looking at his toned body and strong features. he was just gorgeous. 

a smile creases your lips at his words. “thank you so much.” 

before you know it, your back is leaning against his chest in the scorching water, eyes threatening to droop closed as he holds another fry to your lips. you aren’t even hungry, but you invite the salty morsel in nonetheless. his other hand traces up and down your bare arm, mouth pressing more and more kisses to the back of your head. 

“honestly,” his voice is hoarse after hours of use, but he speaks softly in your ear. “i think today was the best day of my life.” 

your chest swells, blinking heavily as you finish chewing your fry. “it was mine, too.” 

you know you’ll be sore in more places than one tomorrow. you know that for the rest of your life, you’ll consider today to be the best you’ve ever had. and as eren sits behind you, annoyingly prodding a fry towards your face, you know you’ll always care for him, too. 

“eren,” you say seriously, his hand halting its fry assault. 

“uh, yeah?” he responds questioningly. his eyebrows are furrowed and his long hair hangs in his eyes. 

“i love you.” 

his face breaks into a sleepy grin, shoving the fry towards you. “i love you too. more than you’ll ever know.” 

<3 <3 <3 

[blossom-hwa]

Hi!! Can I request for Bang Chan + continuation for breathe, and live? (for the fic game)

I love that series so much and how it’s like a collection of oneshots for a single universe 🥺💗 It’s like peeking at memories so I revisit that series often 😂 Congrats for reaching another milestone here!! 💖 love your works a lot!

anon you're so sweet, your metaphor about peeking into memories just makes me HHHHH /sends you all the virtual hugs and kisses I can spare/ I'm glad you enjoyed the series that much, so I hope you enjoy this continuation too!

4 year anniversary drabble game: send me a Stray Kids/The Boyz/Golden Child/Ateez member + a prompt (check out the post for ideas) and I’ll write a drabble for you!

Read the original series, Breathe, and Live, here!

~

Title: Catch Me If You Can (You Can)

Pairing: Chan x fem!reader (only because reader is fem in the original series, but it could be read as gender neutral here!)

Word count: 689

Triggers: none

~

The smell of coffee wafts through the air as you sit on the couch, three boys perched around you as they argue about something your sleepy brain can't really be bothered to listen to. Coffee sounds so good right now - thank god for Chan, really, making your caffeinated bean juice in the kitchen at this very moment.

A small body presses into your side. You look down to see Hyunjin staring at Jisung, a bemused expression on his little face. "Even with coffee?"

"Papa always catches me in his arms," Jisung says confidently. "He'd drop the coffee. Right, Lixie?"

Felix nods quickly. "Yeah!"

Okay, you have no idea where this conversation came from - last you heard, they were talking about which Pokemon is the best - but at least this is something you can follow. "Drop coffee?" you ask. "What coffee?"

"If Papa was carrying coffee but I jumped at him, he would drop the coffee and catch me instead," Felix explains. "Same for Sungie and Jinnie."

Hyunjin frowns. "Are you sure?"

"Yes!"

Well, this sounds like an interesting experiment. It might be a waste of a cup of coffee, but...

This will wake you up way more than any cup of bean juice ever could.

You grin. "Well, boys, why don't we test it out?"

. . .

When the coffee machine stops whirring in the kitchen, the boys are in position. Jisung stands a little distance away from the entrance, ready to run and leap into his father's arms. Hyunjin and Felix watch carefully from the sides, ready to both observe and possibly jump into Chan's arms as well, to provide two more pieces of evidence for this experiment.

As for you? You're on the couch with your phone out, ready to record every second of this. All for scientific reasons, of course.

"Y/N, I have your coffee." Chan's footsteps sound from the kitchen. Phone trained on the entrances, you press record. "It's so quiet in here -"

"PAPA!"

Chan's eyes widen almost comically as he registers a little ball of squirrel-human racing toward him at full speed. "No, Jisung, I'm holding coffee -!"

The coffee drops to the ground with a crash and a splash, and Jisung lands safely in his father's arms.

For a moment, everything is silent. Chan looks around over the top of his son's head, eyes wide in confusion. Your phone is beginning to shake in your hands out of suppressed laughter. Meanwhile, Hyunjin and Felix both give each other one look, then -

"PAPA!!!"

Two more tiny children go hurtling into Chan's arms, and suddenly, there are now three boys wrapped in various positions around Chan's body, and Chan looks even more confused. "Y/N," he asks, muffled around Felix's hair, "what's going on? Hey - are you recording me?"

You end the recording. Minho is going to get a kick out of this when you send it to him. "The boys wanted to see if you'd drop your coffee to catch them," you grin.

His eyes narrow. "You put them up to this, didn't you."

The grin on your face says everything.

"Don't send the video out." Chan's eyes turn pleading. "Please."

"No promises." You stand up, tucking your phone safely away. There's an empty space on Chan's back, and you want to see just how much he can stand before this little tower of people collapses.

Chan notices you eyeing his back as you come closer. "Y/N, no."

You grin. "Y/N, yes."

(Chan falls under the weight of three children and one adult, leaving the five of you a pile of giggles on the ground. Someone's hand is on your nose and you're pretty sure Hyunjin is wiggling underneath you, but the funniest part is Chan lying face down on ground, covered in four other bodies.

"You're cleaning up the mess," he says, muffled into the floor.

"Yeah, yeah. Of course." You slowly extricate yourself from the pile and pat his head. "Oh, good morning, by the way."

He turns his head just enough that you can see the exasperated smile on his lips. "Good morning to you too, Y/N.")

[mypoisonedvine]

Seeing Red | bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x actress!reader (part 6)

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5)

series summary:  bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself.  except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.  

word count: 5.1k

warnings: smut (in the form of road head lmao) plus some more implied smut and teasing and stuff, use of 'y/n' which is perfectly fine but it still makes me anxious cause I've never done it before, other than that just fluff and celebrity/PR stuff

You tilted your head slightly as you watched Bucky emerge from the pool, slicking his wet hair back out of his face, body dripping with cool droplets that sparkled in the afternoon sunlight.

Yeah, you were never going to get tired of this view.

“See somethin’ you like?” he grinned as he grabbed a towel and rubbed it over his hair before lowering it to dab off his shoulders and torso, his dog tags jingling lightly when he bumped against them.

“Yeah, why don’t you come over here and put that body on me?” you purred. He chuckled and stepped closer, tossing the damp towel aside before leaning down to climb onto your pool chair and hover above you; the dog tags hung low and tickled your stomach, making you giggle a little.

“I don’t know that I should, I actually have a girlfriend…” he explained, feigning hesitance as you sat up slightly to nibble at his jaw.

“You know, a lot of couples have a ‘celebrity pass,’ and I just so happen to be a celebrity… do you two have one of those?”

“Maybe we do,” he replied nonchalantly, raising an eyebrow.

“Who’s yours?”

“This really hot girl I saw once, in this really crappy movie,” he winked.

“Hey!” you laughed, shoving him back. “Which one of my movies is crappy?”

“What makes you think you’re the hot girl I’m talking about?” he countered.

“Oh, you’re really trying to get yourself in trouble.”

“Just to be clear— we’re not going to have any celebrity passes, right?" he frowned. "Because you know a lot of famous people and I don’t like those odds.”

You scoffed. “Definitely not.”

“Good. I can only handle one famous woman at a time anyways,” he chuckled.

//

He, meanwhile, would never get tired of waking up beside you, holding you before you were even really aware of anything yet, feeling you stir in his arms and snuggle up close to his chest.

“Bucky…” you mumbled sleepily into his shoulder.

“Yeah?” he whispered, smiling a little as your eyes fluttered but didn’t really open.

You just hummed and shifted again, looking so peaceful that he couldn’t help but kiss your forehead. “Mornin’, beautiful,” he purred.

And there was the best part of every morning: when you opened your eyes and looked up at him for the first time, and you smiled— actually smiled at the sight of him. He couldn’t remember the last time somebody was this happy to see him. He couldn’t imagine what he’d ever done to deserve it.

“Hi,” you greeted coyly.

“Hey there,” he grinned back. His eyebrow raised when he felt your foot delicately trail up the back of his leg, your hips beginning to straddle his. “Got somethin’ on your mind, pretty girl?”

“Maaaaybe…”

He chuckled, always impressed (in the best possible way) by your insatiability. “Already?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “had a dream about you.”

“Care to enlighten me?” he prodded, rubbing your back with his metal hand.

“You had me bent over the bed…” you began, voice a bit lower than normal.

“Good start.”

“In my trailer," you finished.

“Oh, you’re filming in this dream?”

“Well, we weren’t filming right then," you grinned, and Bucky clenched his jaw just imagining the idea of filming you while he fucked you. Much too risky when celebrity sex tapes always seem to end up leaking, but a fun thought nonetheless. "But you made me promise to keep quiet in case somebody heard us. Said you didn’t want anybody else to know how I sound when I come.”

He smirked. “Seems like something I would say.”

“But really I liked the idea of everybody overhearing and knowing how good you make me feel… I want them all to know I’m yours.”

“Sounds like a nice dream,” he smirked, shivering slightly when you leaned in to start kissing his neck and jaw.

“Feel like making my dreams come true, stud?” you purred.

“Yes,” he admitted tensely, “but we don’t have time. You have a meeting at 9, remember?”

“No no no, we have time,” you assured. “We both know how fast you can make me come.”

“No point in doing something if you’re not gonna do it right,” he frowned, “and I don’t have time to do it right.”

“You really are just completely against quickies, aren’t you?”

“Morally and religiously, yes," he announced firmly as he puffed up his chest.

“Religiously?” you repeated with an eyeroll.

“Making you come at least three times is sacred,” he explained. “I worship your body. The shapes I make with my tongue on your clit? I’m spelling out my prayers.”

“You do spend a lot of time on your knees,” you remembered.

“Yeah, well, so do you,” he winked. “But you really do need to get up. And I need to shower before I go warm the car up.”

“Fine," you groaned, wrenching yourself out of his grasp and hopping out of bed.

"That's the spirit," he laughed, getting up with you and starting his own morning routine.

He had to keep you in check to make sure you were ready on time, but with a little encouragement he was able to get you in the car with even some time to spare. And since it was just the two of you and you weren't going to be seen getting out of the car, you could ride passenger and be closer to him.

"What's this meeting about again?" he asked as he took the car around the driveway and out of the front gate, starting the commute to the address you'd given him.

"Director wants me for a project, we're gonna talk about her vision and see if it's a good fit."

"Have you seen a script yet?" he asked, hoping that you'd let him take a look at it if you had.

"No, it's still being written, but the concept sounds amazing. I'll tell you all about it after the meeting," you promised.

He checked the estimated arrival time on the GPS screen and noticed it was even faster than he anticipated.

"Hey, we've got some room for error— do you wanna stop for breakfast?" he offered.

"I want breakfast, but I don't wanna stop," you decided.

"What, like drive-through?" he asked, but then you suddenly reached across the console and slid your hand over his thigh and right over his groin. "Oh, fuck."

You smirked as you leaned in a little bit, resting your head on his shoulder as he started to grow hard in your palm. "Keep your eyes on the road, okay?"

"O-okay," he nodded a little, shifting in his seat to make it easier for you to undo his belt and fly.

You reached into his boxers and wrapped your fingers around his shaft— even just that made him shiver and blink a few times to try to focus on driving. Your fingers were a little cold but it was welcome relief considering he was suddenly burning up.

A few strokes were enough to get him fully hard, and it took a deep breath to keep him together as you leaned your head down into his lap, giving a slow lick right over his tip. "Fuck," he whispered under his breath, but you definitely heard it because he could feel your smirk as you kissed up and down his length.

Just when he was about to beg for it, you wrapped your lips around him and sucked, gentle at first but slowly getting more aggressive as he fought the urge to buck up into your mouth.

"Oh god," he sighed, head falling back onto the headrest. Your tongue swiped over his slit where precum had gathered already, and it was just another reminder that you'd already found all his most sensitive places and planned to use them against him whenever you could.

A little hum echoing in your throat vibrated through his cock, making him hiss a little as you started to set your pace of bobbing up and down and stroking what you couldn't fit in your mouth. Little drops of your spit rolled down the shaft to his balls and if he wasn't trying to hard to look at the other cars on the road he would've let his eyes roll back in his head.

Finally, a red light gave him a chance to take his hands off the wheel and grab your hair, stroke your back, hold your face— he didn't really care what, he just needed to touch you.

"Baby," he groaned, "fuck, you're so good… keep sucking my cock, just like that, oh my god—"

A car horn tore him from the moment and made him realize the light had turned green. One hand quickly shot up to steer as he let his foot up off the brake, breathing through his teeth as you sucked him harder and deeper.

Just as he put his foot on the gas, you took him down your throat until your lips met with the very base of him, and the shock made his leg jerk and sent the car lurching forward.

You were laughing a little as you pulled off of him, still stroking his soaking wet length as you popped up to glance out the windshield and then up at him. "Drive much?"

"All the time," he defended breathlessly, "but, uh, not usually like this."

"You can handle it," you scoffed. "All you need to do is not hit any cars or poles or pedestrians. Just relax and let me get my breakfast…"

You went back down with a smirk as he exhaled sharply, silently promising himself that he was going to keep his cool and drive safely.

Instantly, the tip of your tongue just barely pushing into his slit sent that plan out the window, a loud moan echoing through the car and his eyes falling shut for only a moment.

"Jesus fucking Christ," he groaned.

You let out a coy little giggle before getting back into it, returning to your reliable pattern of stroking and sucking with the occasional venture into the back of your throat— but this time gaining speed steadily, making his toes curl inside his boots and the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

His metal hand had a death grip on the steering wheel while his other stroked your hair and held you down just a moment longer each time your throat wrapped around his head.

"Fuck, baby, I'm gonna— oh god—" he tried to warn you.

You moaned approvingly, stroking your hand and bobbing your head faster.

His turn was coming up and he needed to get two lanes over, but at this point he accepted that he was going to miss the turn because he just needed to come down your throat right fucking now; he didn't even hear the GPS announcing that it was recalculating the route, he didn't even care that he was driving way too slow, all he could perceive was the feeling of your lips around him as he throbbed with each pump of his load onto your tongue.

"Fuuuuckkkk," he gasped as he held you down at your neck, making sure you got every drop. But that backfired pretty quickly when he let go and you still didn't come back up, sucking as if he hadn't come at all. "Oh— oh fuck!" he yelped, and his fears that his eyes would fall shut were gone because they were wide fucking open now, his breathing coming fast and hot through his teeth as your tongue refused to let up.

Your little moans made it clear this was not an accident, but a deliberate attack on his senses that made his entire body jolt.

He tried to pull you off of him, and you resisted for just a moment before finally giving him a break, popping up from his lap to swallow what was in your mouth and lick your lips with a prideful smirk. He allowed himself a quick glance at your satisfied expression as he laughed exhaustedly, still trying to catch his breath as you leaned back in your seat.

"You are…" he began, but he didn't even know where to start. "That was dangerous," he decided to inform you instead.

"But it was fun," you grinned.

Another red light gave him a chance to tuck his softened cock back into his jeans. "We're just a few minutes away, so I don't have time to return the favor," he realized with a frown.

"Don't sweat it, I get the feeling you're gonna more than make it up to me tonight."

"What makes you so sure?" he smirked, even though you were completely right.

"Because I'm gonna take you out somewhere fancy, and you always put out after I buy you dinner," you explained with a chuckle.

"It's cause every time we go out, I have to act all professional and stuff, so when we get home I just can't wait to get my hands on you again."

He pulled in to the parking garage of the studio, finding a spot before turning off the car. You were about to grab your bag but he pulled you into a kiss; not so desperate since he'd just come two minutes ago, but still plenty passionate as his tongue slid over yours in search of the taste of himself to remember what you'd done even clearer.

Your lips moved against his with a quiet little moan, so precious that he couldn't stop himself from gripping your waist tightly.

"You're sure you can't be a few minutes late?" he mumbled, barely pulling back as he reached up and held your face in his hands. "We could get in the back and you could ride me real quick."

"Ah ah ah, we know there's no 'real quick' with you, you said it yourself," you reminded him. "You'll say it's just to take the edge off and then I'll end up folded like a pretzel while you rail me for an hour."

He laughed; he couldn't deny that. "Fair enough. Go to your stupid meeting."

"It won't even take that long," you promised. "And I'll be thinking of you the whole time… hard not to when sucking you off got me so wet."

"Fuck," he growled, "you'd better leave now before I change my mind and make you stay."

You smiled and gave him a peck on the nose before opening the door and getting out of the car. He took a moment to watch you walk away before grabbing his newest borrowed book from the glovebox: Tuck Everlasting. You promised this one wouldn't make him cry which was the only way he agreed to read it because he couldn't handle another sad ending again. And, because he was a little too in love to think straight, he actually believed you.

He hadn't told you yet, though; it was way, way too early for him to feel this way at all, let alone tell you about it. For now, the two of you had something great going, and he didn't want to rush it. Well, he did want to rush it, but he knew he shouldn't, so he kept his feelings to himself for the time being.

//

You were heating up some Vietnamese leftovers on the stove (you’d taught Bucky to stop using the microwave to reheat noodles and now he would never go back) while your boyfriend relaxed on the couch, attempting to find something decent to watch with your meal.

“Hey, one of your movies is on later,” he noticed as he scrolled through the channels. “We could watch that.”

Maybe it was weird that you watched your own movies pretty often— after all, plenty of actors preferred to avoid seeing their own performance— but it made perfect sense to you; you took roles in the kinds of movies that you enjoyed watching and wanted to see more of. It wasn’t that you sought out something you’d been in to watch, and it definitely wasn’t that you didn’t cringe a little watching yourself, but you just happened to like a lot of the things that you’d been in. Plus, they brought back sweet memories. “Oh, which one?” you asked, focusing mainly on stirring the food in the wok.

“After Midnight,” he informed you, and your smile dropped.

“Oh. Um, I don’t like that one,” you dismissed quickly, “what else could we watch?”

“Really?” he pressed, unfortunately not following your segue. “It’s pretty popular… I never saw it, sorry, but I figured I should. Is it not good?”

“No, it’s good, it just—”

“Then what don’t you like about it?”

“Do you not know that I did that movie with Sam Wilson?” you finally blurted out.

“Oh…” he deflated slightly. “You two dated, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, over a year,” you remembered, sounding more somber than you intended.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up any bad memories,” he frowned, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

“No, it’s okay, it’s not bad memories,” you soothed.

“Well, I didn’t mean to bring up any good memories either,” he smirked. “I guess you guys were pretty serious?”

“I thought so,” you answered, leaving the silent second half hanging in the air: He didn’t.

“Kinda sucks you can’t watch your own movie just ‘cause your ex is in it,” he realized.

“Yeah, that one’s especially hard since that’s how we met and all… and I was basically the only person on the planet who didn’t watch Code Gray while it was on,” you remembered. “I mean, everyone was talking about it and I just had to smile and nod and try to ignore the big-ass billboards in LA with his face on them. You get used to that last part, though.”

“Maybe you get used to it, but I don’t think I will,” he admitted.

“I guess it’s easier when you’ve already seen your own face on a billboard,” you shrugged, turning off the stove and distributing the food into two bowls.

"That reminds me, I saw your perfume ad on the side of a skyscraper yesterday," he told you proudly.

"Oh yeah? How's it look?" you asked as you stuck some chopsticks into the food and brought it with you to the living room.

"Looks good, I guess, but it doesn't really look like you to me. You're so airbrushed I couldn't see all my favorite little details of your face," he admitted as you set the bowls on the coffee table.

"That's the nature of the game," you shrugged, joining him on the couch and relaxing against his chest as he embraced you.

“Dating in the public eye must be tough…” he mumbled. You twiddled your thumbs and wondered if that meant he didn’t want to go public with you. He must have sensed your discomfort; he always did. “What’s on your mind, beautiful?”

"Would you ever want to… you know… go public? I wouldn't blame you if you'd rather stay this way as long as possible—"

"What?!" he scoffed. "Baby… I don't care about the spotlight, for better or for worse, I just care about you. And I want to shout it from the fucking rooftops if you'll let me."

You grinned and snuggled up into his arms. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he hummed.

“We could, you know… start that process, if you wanted.”

“What about what you want?” he pressed instead.

“I want everybody to know,” you decided with a smile that you tried (and failed) to fight. “I want to be able to go out with you and not worry about who sees or how you touch me.”

He grinned and kissed you, gentle but a little bit less than innocent. "I want that too," he whispered.

"Then let's do it," you announced giddily. "But, let's have dinner first."

//

He was reading as he waited for you in bed, starting to pick up on the fact that you'd duped him into another heartbreaking read. He was about to confront you about it when you returned from the hallway, but you spoke first.

"I just got off the phone with my publicist," you informed him, "she thinks we should get papped together before I post about it on Instagram."

"'Get papped'?" he repeated incredulously as he slipped a bookmark between the pages and set the novel aside. "Is that some sort of hip slang for getting a pap smear because, I'll warn you now, I’m pretty sure anatomy dictates that we can't do that together."

"Paparazzi," you clarified unamusedly as you got in bed next to him. "She wants us to go to lunch or something and tip off a few photographers; it'll be in the gossip rags by tomorrow."

"God, being famous sounds weird as fuck," he shivered.

"You'll find out for yourself soon," you warned, half ominous and half humorous, as you laid your head on his chest. "You're gonna have your own following once this hits."

He grimaced a little, afraid of becoming slightly famous in his own rite just for dating you when he didn't actually have any talent worthy of attention or praise. “Oh god, I’m not gonna have to make an Instagram, am I?”

"No, but you might want to consider a tinted moisturizer," you pondered aloud as you suddenly examined his face closely.

He gently batted your hand away as you reached up to poke his cheek. "Okay, I get it, I'm old. Makeup ain't gonna fix that."

"You're not old," you laughed, "and it's not that there's anything wrong with your face, it's just that everybody looks washed out on camera and the magazines and their readers are fucking ruthless. If I go out without mascara they'll start running shit about how I'm turning into a crypt keeper. God forbid I wear a tight shirt after eating a massive burrito; they'll pick out baby names for me."

"Christ," he groaned.

"You still wanna do this right?" you asked quietly, shifting from joking to concerned so quickly.

"Of course," he assured, clutching your hand where it had been absent-mindedly rubbing over his chest hair. "Do you?"

"Yeah," you smiled, relaxing again. "I can't wait, honestly."

"Then let's do the lunch thing tomorrow. You have to help me pick what to wear, though." Your arms wrapped around his torso and hugged him tight. "Ooh, don't squeeze me so hard, I ate a lot of Vietnamese food," he frowned.

"Sorry," you giggled, still holding him close but applying less pressure. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders, instinctively stroking your arm with his thumb for a moment before leaning over to turn off the lamp on his bedside table.

Yes, his bedside table, with a drawer full of his stuff. Next to your bed. It was like his wildest (yet most domestic) fantasies coming true and he was beside himself about it.

"G'night," you whispered, cuddling up closer to him.

"Goodnight," he whispered back, planting a kiss on the top of your head. He stayed awake just long enough to hear your breathing and feel your heartbeat as they slowed down, only then allowed himself to fall asleep as well.

//

You'd convinced him to stick to his usual style of 90% leather and denim, while you opted for the classic "I'm famous but I'm pretending I'm normal but I'm definitely not" look of jeans and a t-shirt that looked casual but actually cost nearly a grand combined. It was the ideal look for allegedly-candid pap pics, in your mind; unfortunately, the ribs were wanted to order were not part of that look, and you frowned a little as you ordered your salad and gave the menu back to your waitress.

"I'll have the same," Bucky mumbled quickly and handed his menu over as well, the waitress nodding before she stepped away.

"Salad? Really?" you questioned, fixing your hair for a moment since the breeze had messed it up slightly; you had to sit outside for visibility reasons, and thankfully the weather was gorgeous, but you could do without the wind.

"I'm not stupid, I know better than to unhinge my jaw to eat a burger when I'm going to be photographed," he chuckled. "I'm not hungry anyways, I'm too nervous."

"Don't be nervous," you dismissed, "all you have to do is sit here and not suppress the instinct to act like my boyfriend."

He reached forward and rested his hand on top of yours on the table, stroking your wrist with his thumb. "How about this?"

You smiled a little, feeling your face warm; sometimes he made you feel all shy and giddy like that, just from the simplest things.

“So, when are the paparazzi getting here?” he asked, breaking the silence that you hadn't even really noticed before, too lost in your thoughts.

“They’re already here. Across the street, behind those bushes.”

“Wha— oh my god,” Bucky gasped as he craned his head to see there were, in fact, cameras obscured behind the foliage, “they’re good!”

“Yeah, it’s too bad they use their powers for evil most of the time,” you frowned. “Spent a lot of time and money trying to keep less flattering pictures out of the papers.”

“How ‘less flattering’ are we talking here?” he pressed with a raised eyebrow.

“Unfortunate angles while getting out of a car… maybe a rendezvous on a balcony that we thought was totally private…”

“Do I want to know who the ‘we’ was?”

“Nope,” you grinned. "That's all in the past now… and right now I'm here with you." For emphasis, you slipped one of your shoes off and playfully trailed your foot up his leg.

"Careful there, honey, or you're gonna end up with some more dirty pictures to bribe some sleaze into deleting," he warned with a smirk.

"Just gotta make sure these pictures make it clear we're not just friends," you explained, shrugging a little but wiggling your toes as you moved just past his knee before going back down and slipping your shoe on.

"Maybe we're just really, really good friends."

"Ever gotten this personal at lunch with a really, really good friend?" you asked playfully.

"No, I don't think so…"

"Ever had sex in the bathroom of a really fancy restaurant?" you added, voice dropping as you grinned.

"No, and I never will," he laughed, "because the chances of getting caught are astronomically too high. We literally came here for the express purpose of getting caught."

"Yeah, fair enough," you deflated slightly, taking another bite of your salad.

It was easy after that: just talking with him as naturally as you always did. He glanced over at the hidden photographers occasionally but you'd all but forgotten they were there.

"Well, I think our job here is done," you decided after a half hour had passed. You stood up from your chair and he followed suit, but he stopped you before you turned away.

"Not quite yet," he smirked as he pulled you closer and into a kiss— one that just barely pushed into 'a little too steamy for out in public' territory. Even so, he was the one that had to pull away first because you quickly got so lost in it that you would've let him go on forever. "Now we're done."

"Yep, that'll do it!" you laughed, hugging him quickly before dropping a fifty on the table (it was a 40% tip but who cares) and leading him back to the car.

//

His phone was already set to give him news updates about you, and he smirked when he checked it after dinner only to see your plan already in motion so easily.

New photos spark Y/N Y/L/N dating rumors

Is Y/N Y/L/N dating again after highly-publicized romance with ‘Code Gray’ star Sam Wilson?

‘Touch of Blood,’ ‘After Midnight’ Star Spotted At More-Than-Friendly Lunch with Her Bodyguard

Y/N Y/L/N and Mystery Guy Get Frisky Over Salads at Lazan Bistro In The Lower East Side

“Now we just have to wait until tomorrow,” you smirked. “Is it weird that I’m all jittery about it? I mean, it doesn’t really matter, cause we’re the only thing that matters, but—”

“No, it’s okay, I’m excited too,” he agreed, setting his phone down and wrapping his arms around your waist. “Although I am enjoying my last day of anonymity.”

“Soak it in, Bucky-boy, most of us don’t get the chance to really appreciate it before it’s gone,” you giggled. “You should go out and celebrate— go grocery shopping, see a movie, something I can’t do anymore.”

“If you can’t do it anymore, does that mean you’re not coming with me?”

“That’s sort of the point.”

“But I’ll miss you…”

“You’re so needy,” you rolled your eyes. “But I like it,” you added with a peck to his cheek.

“Need anything from the grocery store? Or the movie theater?”

“All I need is a kiss before you go,” you decided.

He purred and pulled you a little closer, ghosting his lips over your cheek. “Do I get to pick where it is?”

“Above the belt,” you scolded playfully.

“That still gives me plenty of options,” he smiled as he leaned down to lift your shirt up, deciding to place his slow, gentle kiss onto your nipple. He wrapped his lips around it carefully, circling his tongue around the bud as it hardened.

“Oh fuck,” you sighed, weaving your fingers into his hair.

He grinned and looked up at you, pulling away just a little too soon to hear your pretty whines. Who’s the needy one now? “Can I give you one more kiss, on the other one?”

“Only in the interest of symmetry,” you smirked, moaning when he moved to the other nipple and sucked it a little harder than the last. He let his teeth just barely graze the sensitive skin, your body jolting in his arms at the sensation.

“Oh, I bit this one but not the first one,” he realized, “so I’m gonna have to go back. For symmetry.”

He kissed his way back and gave a rough lap over it before sucking it between his lips and using his teeth just like he’d promised. “God, just fuck me.”

“Really? I thought you wanted me to go out without you,” he remembered.

“Later,” you sighed, “need you now.”

A prideful grin stretched over his face as he stood back up and held you tight, tapping your back to instruct you to jump into his arms and wrap your legs around his hips— which you did instinctively, much to his delight. “Okay, pretty girl, let’s get you to bed.”

[todomochi-uwu]

Kinktober Day 1: “Good Boy.” (Hinata Shouyo)

Series: Let The Games Begin! Hinata Shouyo (Opposite Hitter)

Pairing: Hinata Shouyo x reader

Warnings: Smut

Kink(s): Praise; Overstimulation; Corruption (A bit)

Author’s Note: Welcome to my first day of Kinktober 2020! Take a sit and enjoy corrupting this boy´s innocence.

402…     402…    402…

Hinata Shouyo’s room. He had called you in the middle of the night claiming that the anxiety he was feeling wouldn’t let him sleep. And an athlete with no sleep the day before the big game was no good. So, you decided to go to his room to attempt and calm him down, lavender essence in your left hand, a small box of chamomile bags in the right and a head full of encouraging words for you to try and make him feel better.

Knocking on the door, you waited a few seconds, before you went in but the sight of a very wild looking Hinata welcomed you, his hair sticking out in every direction; dilated eyes; bags under them; and bleeding lips. You tried giving him a reassuring smile, but if you were being honest you too were worried for his current state.

“I’m sorry about calling you in the middle of the night, but I can’t! I just can’t! What if I mess up tomorrow.” He paced around the room, “What if Atsumu makes the perfect set for me and I just forget to hit it? What if it’s my turn to spike and I hit the net? Or worse, what if I hit Kageyama in the back of the head like in high school?” His breathing was getting heavier and quicker, he was about to have a panic attack and it was your job to make sure it didn’t happen.

“Shouyo, Shouyo please listen to me.” You took his head into your hands, looking him in the eyes, “None of that is going to happen, I can assure, you guys are going to be amazing out there and you are going to be the absolute best hitter out there, okay?” He nodded, but his insecurities were still plastered in his face.

“Don’t you have something to help you calm down? Like a ritual or something?”

“Well, in high school I used to vomit before every game, but that didn’t help much.” He thought, “Oh! But I also used to…” All of a sudden he went silent.

“Shouyo? What is it? What did you use to do?” His entire face was crimson red, he quickly looked away and started playing with his fingers.

“I used to jerk off.” He mumbled to himself, not wanting you to hear.

“What?”

“I used to jerk off the night before the game, sometimes also in the morning.” He said a bit louder, “Sometimes even in the morning before the game, it helped blow off steam and kept me relax for a few hours.”

Silence filled the room. You didn’t know what to say, what were you supposed to do with this information? Hinata was completely embarrassed in front of you, wishing that earth would just swallow him.

“Okay.”

“Huh?”

“I’ll help you out, if it means you calming down and getting some rest I’ll do it.” You said while getting down on your knees.

“Wait, wait, wait!” He said while scrambling away from you.  What in the hell are you doing, he thought.

“Hinata don’t you want to calm down?”

“Well, yeah but…”

“Then let me do this for you, it will help you. I am your assistant and this my job to do.”

He closed his eyes for a few seconds before letting out a defeated sigh, “Okay.” His cheeks were bright red, his upper lip trapped in between his teeth and his eyes looking away, too ashamed to see what was about to happen.

You started palming him through his sweatpants, he was already pretty hard and the outline of his shaft could be seen, his breathing started to tremble and his chest went up and down quickly, he was trying to stop some of the sounds from coming out of his mouth. Your hand had a kind touch, making sure to focus on the head and applying some pressure to make it feel better. It didn´t take much for it to start leaking, small drops of precum started to appear in the fabric.

“Hinata, how about you take off your pants.” You suggested.

“Why?” He stuttered.

Wanting to tease him a little bit, your tongue traced a path along his shaft from the bottom to his sensitive head, “I just don´t want you coming in your pants.” You got up and whispered in his ear, “I´d rather you coming in my mouth.”

Hinata whined and desperately started pulling off his pants, attempting to relieve his cock from the clothing. The length bounced out and hit you softly in the cheek, making you giggle.

“Look at that, Shouyo. You are all hard for me, baby.” Taking it into your hands you started going up and down, slowly, waiting for him to get used to the new sensation.  You did this for a few more minutes, before using your other hand to massage his balls, this made Hinata cry out.

You wouldn’t lie, the thought of corrupting him made your panties wet, the image in front of you, Hinata becoming absolute putty in your hands, it was all too exciting.

The more you heard him, the braver you became, giving kitten licks on his reddish and throbbing head, tasting his flavour, craving it. Bit by bit you started taking it into your hand, sucking in your cheeks for his pleasure, your tongue tracing every single one of his veins and leaving wet kisses all along his shaft.

You watched and kept masturbating him with your hand, “Are you feeling good, baby boy? Are you liking the way I suck your cock?”

“Ah! Y/n!” He moaned, throwing his head back in ecstasy, his hands kept trying to grab onto something, his thighs were trembling and tears ran down his face. He couldn´t think of anything but your mouth around him.

“Answer me baby, is this to your liking? Or shall I also suck down here?” You took one of his balls into your mouth, sucking it gently.

“Yes, oh god yes!” His hands went to your hair, pulling it and pushing your head down, wanting more.

You continued this for a couple of minutes before going back to sucking on his head harshly, it was salty and a slightly bitter, but you didn’t mind the flavour. His whines were increasing in desperation, he wouldn’t stop thrusting into your mouth and spit covered his face.

“Are you going to cum, baby? Common Shouto, be a good boy for me and cum in my mouth. Give your cum baby, please.” You went in one last time before deepthroating him down, almost immediately feeling his cream feeling your entire mouth.

Hinata finally fell exhausted onto the bed, trying to calm down his breathing and the aftershock of having cummed so hard.

You waited for a few seconds, expectantly, “Shouyo.” Tiredly, he looked at you, and you opened your mouth to show him his essence, all over your tongue, before swallowing it entirely and show your empty mouth once again. To this, he let out another moan.

A few minutes went by, Hinata was trying to recover but you had other plans, “Hey Shouyo.” Your voice came out sweetly innocent, batting your eyelashes for him. “Would you like to go again? Just to be sure I’ve taken all that tension off your shoulders.” Hinata’s eyes were wide open, he gulped down, but couldn’t say no. Taking him once again in your hand, you kept on praising him, sucking him and making him feel good.

———————————-

Giving one last look into the room, you made your way to the door, Hinata had passed out in the middle of the bed, love bits covering his thighs and a couple of small hickeys decoring his well defined V. You had made sure to put a blanket on top of him and cleaned around before you left. You left a good night kiss on his forehead and went out of the room. Leaning against the door while biting your lips and squeaking in happiness, you couldn’t believe what just happened, and you didn´t regret it one bit.

The euphoria you felt at the moment made you clueless to a pair of eyes who were attentively watching you in the dark, your secret was not so secret any more.

[titan-fodder]

Prima Vista Part IV

[ previous ]

Rating: E (explicit; mdni) Pairing: Mike Zacharias x fem!reader wc: ~ 9.6k

Warning: a big helping of abandonment/daddy issues, lots of feelings, explicit sexual content A/N: y’all are gonna be so soft and then so mad lmao. 

The plan was to go to Mike's house then back to campus. You said you didn't have anything to do at your mom's, that a long phone call would suffice, which is why Mike is confused when you ask him if you can stop by before going back. It's an hour out of the way, but it's not like he has anything better to do, and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't curious about your humble beginnings. 

 The house is in a decent-looking neighborhood, small, nearly identical one-story homes surrounded by cracked sidewalks. He has to be careful not to trip as you make your way to the front porch, pots of dead or dying plants along the edges of it. You shove your key into the lock, twist and open, then motion for Mike to follow. 

 The den is dimly lit, ceiling fan above with only one working bulb. A crime show is playing on the TV but there's no one watching. There is, however, another light pouring from a back room, and as soon as you drop your bag on the couch, a head pokes out from the doorway. 

 "Baby girl!" A shrill voice cries, and Mike sees you grimace. "I thought you weren't coming by!" 

 A woman walks into the den wearing long, cotton shorts and an old tie-dye shirt then pulls you into a hug so tight that it makes you cough. 

 "Mom," you take a deep breath as if to refill your lungs with all the air that was pushed from them. "This is Mike."

 He holds out a hand and smiles, but all your mother does is stare with round eyes and blurt, "Oh, he's a big boy." 

 "My fucking god." You don't yell or whine, just pinch the bridge of your nose and mumble, "Just shake his hand please." 

 "Sorry, I'm sorry, just was not expecting… You didn't tell me how tall he was."

 "'Cause it doesn't matter. Why would I—nevermind," you cut yourself off, face falling flat just like your voice. 

 Mike isn't sure if he should be flattered or offended or embarrassed, so he just ignores the comment entirely and says, "Nice to meet you." 

 You make your escape to the back, dragging Mike with you before shutting your bedroom door and leaning against it. 

 "Mom is a little weird, but you'll always know where you stand with her," you tell him. "Also, sorry about the house. She’s a teacher, so she’s usually pretty beat at the end of the day. Not enough energy to do a lotta cleaning."

 "Didn't even notice," he reassures you. 

 Mike unpacks his bag next to you, and you gather the dirty clothes from both yours and his, balling them up and taking them with you out to the garage to throw into the washing machine. Mike should have done it at his parents', but as you were packing up that morning, his mother got all teary eyed and his dad just kept shaking your tiny hands and telling you to come back, so it just didn’t happen. 

 Back in the living room, your mom is sitting in an old rocking chair, and Mike thinks you'll take a seat on the adjacent couch, but instead you ask, "You need help with anything? Dishes or vacuuming or somethin'?"

 She looks up at you, fly-away hairs sticking out around her temples and forehead and responds, "It'd be nice if you could do the dishes. I just haven't gotten around to it."

 "Can do," you nod and walk into the kitchen, opening the dishwasher and making a displeased noise at the dirty plates and bowls inside. There's room for a few more, but once it's full and running, you just clean what's left in the sink by hand. Mike finds a towel, stands next to you, and holds his hand out for every scrubbed dish, drying it and placing it in the rack to hopefully be put up later. 

 "You hungry?" You ask when you're done and drying your hands. "It's almost one."

 "Uh, yeah. I could eat." 

 Truthfully, he's starving having only had a small breakfast at his parents'. He doesn't want to say that, though, doesn't want you making a big meal for him or apologizing for anything. 

 "Sandwiches okay?" 

 Something in your tone has him on edge. Your voice is too quiet, deflecting downward as if you're forcing each word from your mouth. 

 "Yeah," he nods. "If you get the stuff, I can make 'em." Mostly so that you can relax but also because there's no way he's gonna let you make him a fucking sandwich. 

 You shrug your shoulders, grab bread, lunchmeat, cheese, and condiments, then say, "You can make ours. I'll make mom's."

 He knows he's missing something, but he doesn't know what, and right now he's too afraid to ask. 

 He eats next to you on the couch, you and your mom watching TV as Mike tries to subtly glance around. Mounted shelves are decorated with dusty, mismatched figurines, cracks opening at the corners where the walls meet the roof. The brick fireplace is stacked high with plastic tubs and books, probably from your mother’s classroom, and the carpet has seen better days. 

 Mike isn't judging—not in the least—but he has a feeling he knows why being here puts you in a sour mood. The house feels lived in, cluttered and cozy and worn around the edges, but it's still empty somehow. 

 After the three of you are finished eating, you take the paper plates and dispose of them, then tell your mom that you'll be in your room. She gives you a soft smile that you struggle to return.

 It's a little more you in the bedroom, blue walls covered in old posters and collages, a quilt similar to the one in your dorm folded at the bottom of your bed. Your pillow cases are faded and covered in an old flower design that matches your sheets, and there's a small nightstand next to the headboard that's bare on top with wrinkled papers poking out of the bottom drawer. 

 "It's not much, but if you wanna snoop around like I always do, feel free." 

 Mike doesn't really want to, especially since you already seem so uncomfortable in what should be a safe space for you. The only thing he feels okay investigating is the old bookshelf next to your closet—mostly YA novels, some poetry books, an old set of The Lord of the Rings series, a textbook over rocks and minerals and another over volcanoes. Tucked away in the bottom shelf is a tiny booklet that looks like a photo album, and Mike has to fight the urge to pull it from its place and flip through the plastic pages. Anything to get to know you better. 

 You lay in bed, eyes locked on the ceiling, and Mike doesn't know what to do. There's a very small TV sitting on your dresser, an old DVD player next to it, so he figures he'll save both you and himself from talking by picking out a movie. 

 He fingers through them, not that there's a lot, just skims the spines until he pulls out a copy of Space Jam. You only glance at the screen when the intro starts, and Mike immediately zeroes in on the way your jaw sets and your brows furrow. 

 "I can pick something else," he tells you quietly. 

 You take a deep breath and shake your head. Slowly but surely your features begin to soften. 

 "'S'fine."

 "Are you sure?" 

 "Yeah. My, uh…" You swallow loud enough from Mike to hear, neck bobbing with the motion. "My dad and I used to watch it all the time."

 He doesn't know what to make of it or how to respond. In the months he's known you, Mike has never heard you mention your father a single time, and he's never asked in fear of what your response might be. 

 He moves your quilt to sit on the very edge of the bed, a little too tense as he heavily contemplates ignoring what you'd said and still switching movies. 

 "You can lay down, you know," you mumble. "I'm not gonna bite you."

 "You have before," he tries to act casual, but it comes out too stiffly.

 You laugh through your nose— "Suit yourself—" then get more comfortable on the mattress. 

 Michael Jordan gets pulled into a golf hole and the Loony Toons journey to retrieve his shoes from the real world. Mike is barely paying attention, more focused on the way your breathing evens out until it becomes slow and deep. 

 That's good. You could use a nap. 

 He watches you for a while, the way your eyelashes flutter against your cheeks and your lips part. You're all curled up on yourself, hands tucked under your chin, knees to your stomach, and Mike wants to slip behind you so badly, to pull you to his chest and lay with you until his heartbeat syncs with yours. 

 But first. 

 As carefully as he can, Mike stands from the bed and glides to the bookcase. He lowers himself in front of it, quickly finding what he's looking for and pulls it from the shelf. 

 It's a small little album, full of polaroids and old pictures cut in half. The first page sets the tone for the rest of the booklet, a photo of a very small you outside eating a popsicle next to a man that is most definitely your dad. You've got a similar facial structure as well as his coloring. Not to mention the expression he's wearing is one Mike has seen you make many times before. 

 The next picture is the two of you dressed up for an event. He's in a striped Polo and slacks while you're in a little checkered dress, a rose corsage on your tiny wrist. Some kind of father-daughter dance, Mike guesses. 

 Sitting on his lap at a fair, a chubby little boy a few years older than you standing close with a stuffed snake around his neck. A party where you're posed with an honestly frightening costume character. You in a bright, mesh jersey standing back to back with your dad, arms crossed, looking at the camera with your chins tilted upward. 

 They all look like good memories. The little boy in the fair picture appears several more times, and as he loses his baby fat, Mike sees the resemblance he shares with you and your father. It's too close to be a cousin—your eyes and mouths shaped the same—so he must be your brother. 

 Mike doesn't know how to feel about that because again, you've never uttered a word. As far as he knew, you were an only child, so why…

 He gets lost in the pages, watching you grow and pose mostly next to your dad. Smiles and laughs and silly faces with your tongues sticking out. Your mom is in some, brother in others, and then, you're in a cap and gown, grinning widely next to your dad who's beginning to gray at the temples. His own smile is barely there now, a ghost of what was seen in the previous photos. It's forced, it's sad, and it's the last picture in the book. 

 Mike's chest hurts. He wonders what happened, when exactly you'd lost him. Was it a quick goodbye, or had it been drawn out and painful? Had he been sick for a long time? He'd looked perfectly healthy in all the shots. Maybe a car accident that took both him and your brother…

 He flips to check for one last photo on the back of the page, but it's empty. However, tucked in a tiny, paper pocket is a folded up note that Mike stares at for a few solid minutes, debating the pros and cons of reading it. He knows he's already violated your privacy by looking through the album, and fuck, he's only been in your house for a couple hours at most—how has he already managed to tumble down such a humongous rabbit hole? 

 Your tiny snores reach his ears, and Mike gently pulls the note out, biting his lip as he unfolds it as quietly as possible. It's soft, like it's been read too many times, and the letters scribbled in all caps are beginning to fade, but the words are still legible. 

 It starts with your name, and then it's all apologies—sorry I can't stay, I have to leave, you don't understand how much this hurts me and so on. 

 Mike's eyebrows pull together the further he reads, blood pounding against the walls of his arteries, pulse picking up because he understands now.

 Your father wasn't in any sort of accident; he just left. 

 The letter ends with a gut-wrenching, You'll always be my little girl, and Mike nearly crumples the paper up to throw away. He resists somehow, simply folds it with shaky hands and slips it back into the pocket at the back of the album. 

 He's never been so mad at a stranger in his life. This must be it. This must be why you are—

 "Should've known you'd go straight for the photo album." 

 Your voice makes Mike's body jolt, his face heating as he turns to look at you with wide eyes. 

 "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean—"

 You wave him off and prop yourself up on an elbow. "It's whatever."

 But, it's not. It's this huge part of you that still affects you to this day. Mike is no psychologist, but he has a pretty good feeling this is the main reason you hold everyone at arm's length. 

 "Why didn't you ever tell me?" 

 "What's there to tell?" 

 Sitting up fully, your gaze moves to the screen just in time to see Michael Jordan step off of the spaceship and onto the baseball field. I Believe I Can Fly is playing, and you're gritting your teeth. 

 "It's not anything that comes up in normal conversation anyway. I wasn't just gonna hit you with it outta nowhere. Also," you look back to Mike, eyes still sleepy, lips pulling downward in a frown. "I'm not the only one who hid stuff about my family."

 Mike sighs and quietly tells you, "That's different," as he closes the album and slides it back into the row of books. 

 "Is it, though? Is it really?" 

 "I..." 

 Mike shuts his mouth and actually thinks on it. He wasn't trying to lie to you about his home life or his heritage. He's only half Greek on his mom's side, after all, and he's only been to the country to visit family a couple of times—once when he was a child and once right before college. The culture is a little different over there, but it all seems so natural to him, especially after being raised to speak the language. 

 Honestly, he didn't ever tell you because he didn't think to, but Mike can understand the shock of walking into his childhood home and getting thrown through that loop. It must have been jarring for you. 

 It's a positive aspect of his life, though. It's not something that's damaged him or made him cold toward others. And, he hates describing you in such a way, but it's true.

 At least it makes sense now. 

 "I guess not," he shrugs. He's not about to fight you on it. 

 You stare at him for a while, waking up a bit more as you rub your eyes and stretch. 

 Then, you flop back down on your pillows. 

 "So. Any questions, Zacharias?" 

 He's surprised that you're asking, and though he doesn't want to twist the metaphorical knife in your gut, he still replies honestly: "Too many."

 A long exhale through your nose, and then you're patting the mattress next to you and grumbling, "Fine, I'll do my best, but you gotta come up here."

 "Why? You gonna need to cuddle afterward?" He can't help but tease. 

 "Fuckin' maybe, dude! We're about to get into my god damn trauma so—"

 Mike is up on his feet and flying toward the bed. He isn't about to sabotage the one fucking moment you're opening yourself up. 

 "Alright, what first?" You ask, trying to look bored, but Mike can clearly see that you're nervous. 

 "He left." 

 "Yeah."

 And then he gets the full story. 

 Your dad was pretty perfect during your younger years—a bit of a workaholic but still good. He took you to dances like the one you'd both dressed for in the photograph. You'd spend days at amusement parks where he'd carry you on his shoulders. He coached the basketball team you'd played on as a child.

 "Not saying he played favorites, but I was definitely closer to him than my brother was."

 The brother who developed a drug problem at fourteen, who was always either out with his little addict friends or at home where he would just scream at you and your mom. 

 "He went to rehab a couple times, but it didn't stick." 

 He left home at seventeen and hasn't gotten in touch with you or your parents since. 

 "I keep thinking one day we'll get a call from the police saying they found his wallet on a fucking corpse, but who knows. Maybe he got clean. Maybe he started a family somewhere else. He'd be twenty-five now."

 "Were you ever close with him?"

 You shrug. "We spent a lot of time together when we were really little, but even back then he was kinda a mean kid."

 It very quickly circles back to your father. Mike still doesn't feel like he has all the answers, so he asks through the skin of his lip, "Why'd he leave?"

 At this point, you've got your head in his lap as he sits against the wall. He smooths your hair back from your face every once in a while, something his mom used to do to him when he was very young that always soothed him. 

 He hopes it's having the same effect on you, thinks it might be considering you've had your eyes closed for a while now, humming now and then as you talk. 

 "Honestly, I don't really know. I don't think he and my mom were ever in love. Like, they just kinda settled for each other," you sigh. "They didn't have a lot in common. They had different upbringings. But, they didn't fight or anything—not in front of us. They were good at hiding the hard times from me and my brother. They just didn't… click."

 Mike bites his tongue, wonders if that was hard to watch or if you'd been too naive to notice. 

 Then, there's his second train of thought that's really just the voice in his head screaming, we click, though! You and I work! But he keeps it to himself. This isn't about you and him. 

 "I think maybe dad had, like, a 'stay together for the kids' mentality 'cause as soon as I graduated, he was fuckin' gone. And, I mean gone. We went to a graduation party the next weekend that lasted a few hours—just me and mom—and when we got back his truck wasn't in the driveway and his drawers were empty. He left that note you read on my desk."

 Mike breathes. Just breathes. He tries to make sense of it, how someone could just do that without a real reason. There hadn't been any explanation in the letter, only apologies. 

 "Have you seen him since?" 

 You open your eyes and reply, "Nope," popping the 'p'. "I don't know where he is, and he hasn't reached out. Mom made the drive to my grandma's—his mom—but she said she didn't know where he was either. Pretty sure she was covering for him, though. She was always kind of a bitch. You know, save for the whole paying for my college and all."

 Mike snorts at this, not that there's anything funny about the situation. It's just his first reaction. 

 You ignore it, moving on with an, "Anyway."

 "Anyway," he mimics. 

 "I don't know if you've noticed in the short time you've been here, but my mom is a little… off. Not super good at taking care of herself."

 "Is this why?" 

 "Clever boy," you show a bitter smile. "I didn't really understand since they weren't, like, in love or whatever, but… I think it was the betrayal more than anything. Like, it came outta nowhere, a big ol' slap in the face."

 "Plus, he left you behind," Mike adds, as if you don't already know. 

 Looking up at him, you raise your eyebrows and smirk. "And, now you know about my abandonment issues." The last part comes out in high-pitched, melodic syllables, a little song that would be funny if Mike didn't know it was a coping mechanism. It most definitely is, though. He can tell that you're the type to mask every issue with humor and sarcasm. It's how you've been dealing with him for the last several months. 

 "So, that's my story," you conclude on an exhale. "Now you know all my dirty secrets."

 "For some reason I don't think that's all of them," Mike pets your hair again. "But, probably the important ones."

 "Mm. I guess."

 The rest of the day is really just spent killing time. You cook an easy dinner that you refuse to let Mike help with, then sit in the den with your mom just like you did at lunch. A medical show is playing. Then a reality show. Then a game show. None of you say much of anything, and it's painfully awkward for Mike now that he knows what happened, but he can power through a few days of this if it makes you feel better. 

 Hours pass until you can retreat, and moonlight shines through your bedroom window, not that Mike needs it. He's memorized your body at this point, knows where to touch without even seeing. He makes sure to be gentle, to suckle and blow on your pebbled nipples as you card fingers through his hair and breathe faster and faster. 

 Leaving love bites down your chest and stomach, he sucks on your skin, gently grazing his teeth over every bruise. Mike wants you to see them all the next day—not a staked claim, just something you can't ignore when you look in the mirror, evidence of his feelings in every mark. 

 When you're finally nice and relaxed, he spreads your legs and licks into you, trying not to be too rough with his beard, but a few swipes of it over your clit leave you shaking in his grasp. You whisper his name, the common one that everyone knows him by, but then, rolling off your tongue like a prayer, you call him, "Miche," and he can't help the rumble that rises in his chest. 

 It should be strange. That's the name only his family uses, the one he was born with. He only simplified it so that kids in school wouldn't ask questions or make fun of him, and after that, it just sort of stuck. But, here and now, falling from your lips, it's so soft. So intimate. 

 You whimper when he sucks on your folds, making them swell, making them sensitive. And then, he's pushing his tongue inside of you and humming happily at the taste. His nose is bumping against your clit, and Christ, you even smell good to him—that ripe, tangy aroma that has Mike going a little crazy. He has to make sure he doesn't get too carried away. You can't make very much noise even with the rattling of the air conditioner, but as he slowly slides a finger into your pussy, he hears you moan around the fist you're holding to your mouth. 

 He stretches you just enough to get you ready, then he holds himself over you and pushes into your wet cunt. Your eyes are open, locked with Mike's as your brow raises and your jaw drops. It's erotic, something you've never done with him before. You typically either gaze somewhere other than his face or keep your eyes squeezed shut. 

 Tonight, though, you've been vulnerable and apparently want to stay that way for a little while longer. 

 He bends to catch you in a kiss, lips and tongues moving just as slowly as his hips, and when you reach to tug at Mike's hair, he pants into your mouth. 

 Those words are there again, stuck in his throat but slowly crawling upward until they're just there, pouring from his tongue, "I lo—"

 Until you cut him off with a sharp, "Don't."

 He makes a noise of frustration, wants to protest because he's so deep inside of you, and you're holding onto him like you want him—truly want him, but you mutter once more against his lips, "Don't say it, Miche."

 So, he doesn't. He bottles the confession up and keeps it locked away, hoping like hell that one day you'll let him tell you. 

 After you climax and coat his cock in slick and cream, he gives a few more thrusts and comes inside of you, filling you with himself and wondering why you're so willing to accept him in that way but not in any other. 

 He's hurting again, like he did at his parents' as you walked around like you belonged there. Except it's worse now. 

 If you don't want him to say it, that means you don't want to say it back. 

 He stays with you for a few more minutes before pulling out. You leave to clean up, and while you're gone, Mike sits on the edge of the bed, head in his hands as he tries to get it all out of his system, whispering it out loud to himself: 

 I love you. I love you, I love you.  

 You still let him hold you as you fall asleep, gripping his hand until you can't anymore, and as Mike drifts off behind you, he has one last thought—Just let me.

* There’s only three weeks left of the semester when you head back to campus, and you intend to make the most of every passing day. 

 You pay better attention in class. You study harder in the library to prepare for final exams. You go to a few more Pi Alpha Kappa parties, making sure not to burn yourself out. And, you let Mike fuck your brains out every few days. Sometimes it’s late at night after those parties. Sometimes you're too tired after the nights of drinking and end up just going to bed only to wake up in the morning and have slow, sleepy sex. Sometimes it’s in the middle of the afternoon when you both have breaks between classes.

 Neither of you bring up anything that happened over the break—meeting families, details about your childhoods, how much you learned about one another in general.

 Most importantly, neither of you address that first night at your mom’s, the way Mike had basically worshiped your body, how he’d come so close to uttering the three words you least want to hear. 

 Thinking about it still makes your chest tighten, your heart beat faster. Sometimes when you’re sharing his bed with him, back pressed to his chest, large arm slung over your waist, you think about why it is you’re so vehemently against it. The two of you already act like a couple most of the time. You walk with each other to class when you can. You stick to each other’s sides at parties. You fuck like rabbits and don’t care who knows about it. 

 And, though you’re hesitant to admit it even to yourself, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have feelings for him. Mike is your best friend at this point. He’s insanely hot. He’s goofy. He’s kind. Yeah, the frat boy persona he puts on around his friends is annoying, but you understand it a little better now. Plus, he always takes off the mask when he’s alone with you, giving both you and himself a break from it.

 You know your time with him is quickly coming to an end—for about two months, at least—and whenever you think too hard about it, it makes you pout and huff. You’re not looking forward to your summer classes without him, but he promises on several occasions that you can call him while he’s at his parents’ if you ever need help with the material.

 It’s impressive, the way he’s able to act like nothing happened. You know it must be troubling him, but it’s not like you can do anything to soothe him. If he was really upset with you, he would have stopped spending time with you, but he hasn’t. He just bottles it up, keeps smiling at you all crookedly, and keeps satisfying you in the bedroom (more than satisfying honestly. There’s really not a word to describe what he does).

 He’s back to getting along with everyone in the Pike house, everyone being Erwin. It’s a relief just because you don’t have to put up with the tension between them, but it’s also awkward. And, a little frightening. 

 The brothers have Smash Brothers tournaments and movie nights, a few date parties here and there, and it never fails that at some point during the evenings, you find your neck prickling as it always does when you feel someone staring at you. You always hope it’s Mike. Fuck, you wish it was him. But, when you glance up and around, it’s Erwin. Every time. His deep blue eyes are trained on you, the corner of his mouth twitching upward on one side. It doesn’t matter if he’s alone or if he’s got Maddie or some other girl sitting in his lap. He's fucking shameless, and it makes your stomach hurt.

 You keep your mouth shut for the sake of the friendship but also for the sake of Erwin’s pretty face. If he and Mike ever got into an actual fight, Erwin would probably be able to get a good few punches in, but you’re nearly positive Mike would end up destroying him in the long run. That could get him kicked out of school. That could get him thrown in jail. 

 Finals roll around, and you manage to pass all of them without issue, even getting grades above the class average. You feel fantastic, like your long term goals might actually be attainable. You have a long road ahead of you, but your GPA at the end of the year is more than enough to raise your confidence. 

 Mike asks you to come back to his house for the couple weeks between the end of the semester and the start of your summer courses, but you turn him down, too scared of what might happen while you’re there. Acting like a couple in front of his parents will only exacerbate his feelings as well as yours, and you’d like to avoid that as best you can. 

 Even now as you’re standing outside by the Jeep, he tries to persuade you one last time, almost pleading, “Are you sure you don’t wanna come?”

 “Miche, I’m sure,” you tell him, trying to stay stern, but it’s hard when his sea glass eyes light up at the sound of his real name. It’s a habit you’ve gotten into, a bad one considering how much he likes it. How much you like it. “I already told you I wanna spend the free time I have at mom’s. I need to check up on her and… Probably clean, honestly.”

 He lets out a little grunt of disappointment, then nods. “Yeah, I get it.”

 “You saw what she’s like,” you remind him. “Someone needs to drop in every once in a while to make sure she isn’t, like, wasting away or something.”

 “Makes sense. I’ll be bummed, though.”

 “Be bummed all you want,” you smile. “I’ll probably still bother you over break. A lot.”

 He sounds terribly sincere when he mumbles, “You never bother me.” It makes your stomach flip in the way you do not enjoy.

 Mike sighs, taking in one of those deep breaths that makes his broad chest rise then fall, calling attention to it and making you bite your bottom lip. 

 “Alright, I should get going,” he concedes, bending down to kiss you too deeply for simple friends with benefits. It doesn’t stop you from humming into his mouth and smiling against him. You hold him by the back of his neck as he pulls your body close to his, his voice muffled when he tells you mischievously, “Don’t forget to send pictures.”

 It makes you laugh, and you lean back to swipe your tongue over his lips so that he groans and chases after you. 

 “I promise I will. Perv.” The beating sun is nothing in comparison to the way your body heats at the thought. You’ve sent him nudes before, but the idea of him looking at them from hours away, fisting his cock as he admires your body through his phone… It makes seeing him off even harder.

 After a couple more softer kisses, Mike swings into the Wrangler and pulls out of the lot. You stand in his parking space and watch him until he’s out of sight, then walk back to your dorm, dragging your feet the whole way. 

 You only stay at your mom’s house for a week, and just like you predicted, you spend most of it cleaning. She thanks you the whole time but makes excuses in between. You just reassure her that you don’t mind even though you do. She really should see a therapist and sort out the depression she’s been stuck in for a few years now, but telling someone they need professional help is easier said than done. 

 Sleeping in your old bed is much harder this time around. You're all too aware of the weight that isn't behind you, and most nights you lay awake for at least a couple of hours trying to imagine it. 

 Like you’d promised, you send him a few pictures, some of them just lewd selfies with your tits pouring out of the cups of your bra, but others are of your naked body in the bathtub, sometimes a shot of you with your hand between your legs. It feels wrong to touch yourself in your childhood home, but it’s necessary, especially when Mike sends you a few pictures of his own—one with his torso on display, defined abs absolutely mouthwatering and the V of his hips suggestively leading into mesh shorts. Another is of him in the gray joggers he wears all the time, the ones that always show off his cock. 

 He’s so fucking hot it atually hurts, makes your pussy throb as you crave his touch. It’s an awful feeling honestly, but even worse than that is the way you miss him. You aren’t supposed to miss him. You’re just supposed to be friends who have sex. Nothing more than that.

 It's why you’re glad to go back to school. Your classes will distract you, keep you from thinking about him too much. The semester is shorter during the summer, so you have to work even harder than you do during fall and spring. You don’t really think it’ll be a problem since you’re trying to cram your brain full of anything other than Mike which is great motivation for studying. 

 Nothing is gonna get you off track, you tell yourself. Nothing will interfere with your studies. That’s the plan.

 Then, you meet Zeke Jaeger. 

* You're studying in the library. It seems like you spend most of your time here, nice and quiet and empty. The campus isn't nearly as busy in the summer as it is during the rest of the school year. No parties, no sporting events, just you alone with your books. 

 It's nice. Most of the time. A little boring but mostly nice. 

 Your eyes are getting tired, and when you check your phone, you realize why. It's almost eleven PM, meaning you've been studying for about six hours. You've had longer nights, usually spent on the phone getting quizzed on the information you're learning with a few breaks in between, but that wasn't the case tonight as Mike had to spend the day with family from out of town. 

 It's okay. You're supposed to be distancing yourself anyway. 

 Taking a deep breath, you pack up your books and slide your laptop into your bag, then stand and swing it over your shoulder. 

 The strap is too long. The bag swings too hard, and your heart sinks when you hear a little grunt followed by a, "Agh, hot!" 

 Turning with wide eyes, you immediately start apologizing, "I'm so sorry, oh my god, fuck, I'm so sorry!"

 A head of light blond hair looks up from the brown stain on his white t-shirt, icy blue eyes narrowed behind wire-rimmed glasses, but when he sees the mortification on your face, his own expression softens, and he chuckles. 

 "It's fine. You can calm down."

 You're still breathing heavily, guilt making your hands shake, but he really doesn't look angry. In fact, he's grinning now, eyebrows raised like he's amused. 

 The longer you stare at him, the more familiar he looks. You're pretty sure you've seen him before. Many times before, actually, and then it clicks that this guy is on the front page of the school website. You see him every fucking time you log in, looking much more stern than he does now. Baseball hat and jersey, mitt on one hand as he hides his other in it, and yeah, you know him. 

 "You're Zeke Jaeger."

 He makes a face, scrunching his nose up and squinting. "Yeeeeah, I guess I am."

 Best pitcher in the college league despite being a sophomore like you. He's beaten the records of some major league players. 

 You don't give a fuck about baseball, have never even been to any of the school's games, but you've been hearing about Zeke since the last season. You've learned to tune it out because, again, no shits given (and also you're much more partial to lacrosse now), but he's hard to ignore when he's staring you right in the face. 

 "Well, uh," you try to act casual. It's something you're pretty good at these days. "Cool."

 He snorts, picking his shirt off his chest to air it out like it'll help, then says, "I don't know your name, though."

 You run your tongue over your teeth, wondering why he cares, then introduce yourself. 

 "Oh, you're Zacharias' little girlfriend, aren't you?"

 Your stomach flips at the mention of him. 

 "We're not dating."

 Zeke cocks his head to the side. "No?"

 "No. Just friends."

 He hums but doesn't say anything, and your eyes are once again drawn to his chest as he fans over the stain. 

 "Okay, let me get you a new shirt or something," you try. 

 He laughs again. "I highly doubt you've got a men's shirt tucked in that bag of yours, sweetheart."

 "I—" you pout for a second, mumble, "Okay, yeah, fair point."

 "Another coffee, though," he muses out loud. "Wouldn't be the worst thing."

 You shoot him a finger gun and smack your lips. "On it. Where do you get coffee at eleven o'clock?"

 "I'll walk with you," he states more than offers. 

 Then, you're both leaving the library, leaving campus, and going to a little 24 hour cafe where you blow on lattes and cover the basics about each other—philosophy major, valedictorian of his high school class, playing baseball since age seven, etc. You should sleep. You should get ready for another long day of studying.  

 But it's hard to make good decisions when Zeke Jaeger is smirking at you from across the table like you're the most interesting thing he's ever seen. 

* Zeke gets your number that night. You're not exactly sure how, but he does. 

 Then he doesn’t text you for three days. It doesn’t bother you that much. You figure he has other things to focus on. He’s on campus to take a couple courses and practice for the upcoming season, so he’s probably just busy. If that night had just been a one-off, it’s fine with you. It was cool to talk to him, but your heart isn’t broken.

 These are all the thoughts and justifications running through your head when you’re in class on Tuesday and your phone lights up during the PowerPoint lecture. You glance down, expecting Mike or Hitch, but it’s an unknown number instead. Eyes flicking from the projection screen to your much tinier one, you slide to open the message and chew on your lip. 

 Hey, it’s Zeke. You have classes this afternoon?

 You do not. And, you are too quick to tell him that.

 He takes you to a little Mom and Pop restaurant, too far to walk so you end up riding in the black Bronco he drives, trying to convince yourself that it definitely does not make him any more attractive to you. Because you aren’t attracted to him in the first place. Right?

 You sit at a table for two eating paninis and fruit. Zeke asks how classes are going, you ask about practice, and as you talk, he gets that look in his eyes again, like you amuse him or interest him or something.

 It confuses you, and for a moment, you’re taken back to last fall at that first Pi Kappa Alpha party, the one you met Mike at when he tried to get you to shotgun a beer. God, he had been so obnoxious back then, always following you around and flirting and—

 “You listening, sweetheart?”

 Your eyes refocus on the man in front of you, his raised eyebrows and little smirk. “Looks like you’re a million miles away. Sorry if I’m boring you.”

 “No, no,” you try to defend. “I just zoned out for a second. Realized I, uh, got an answer wrong on the quiz I took today.”

 “That sucks,” he hums. “Anyway, I can stop talking about baseball.”

 “It’s okay. Just go over the last, like, ten seconds,” you say with a laugh, hoping your cheeks will stop burning sooner rather than later.

 Zeke chuckles and does just that, doesn’t seem irritated or put out. He tells you about how he has a new trainer this year to warm him up and make sure his throwing arm is in top shape. “I hope he’s as good as my last. Colt was always on it, knew exactly how hot to make the warm compresses and how cold to make the ice packs. Stuff like that. He learned my needs.”

 You both laugh, and if it was anyone else, you’d have an innuendo sliding off your tongue, but for some reason, you don’t think Zeke would want to hear it, like he’d be unimpressed with your vulgar humor. 

 Back at the college, he drives you to your dorm, explaining that he lives in the apartments on the other side of campus and wouldn’t want to make you walk that far. Then, as you slide out of the Bronco, he stops you with a smooth, “Hey,” that makes you look over your shoulder at him. “Make sure you save my number in your phone, okay? I’ll text you soon.”

 The way your stomach flips is worrisome, a feeling you’re only used to when you’re with…

 “Yeah, okay.”

 He grins widely and nods, then waits for you to get a good distance away from the car before driving off.

 No distractions, you’d said. It’ll be good for your focus, you’d said. 

 What a fucking joke. 

*

Mike has to help you with some homework that weekend. You can hear his smile through the phone, snort when he makes his little nerd jokes, then sigh when he gets to the actual subject and explains it to you without a problem. His brain is incredible, and when you think about it too hard, it makes you warm inside. 

 “You’re so fucking smart. Why don’t you let people know?”

 “Maybe I just want you to know,” he chuckles. “You think I wanna spend my days tutoring every idiot who needs help?”

 “Miche, did you just call me an idiot?”

 You hear another breathy laugh followed by a sigh. “I have many, many names for you, but ‘idiot’ isn’t one of them.”

 “Oh yeah?” You play. “And, what might those other names be?”

 He lists a few, all of them making your face flush and your body tingle, and before you know it, you’ve got your pants off and your fingers between your legs. You can hear Mike’s heavy breathing on the other end, the wet sound of his hand stroking his lubricated cock, and when you reach your climax, you moan out your usual, “Oh fuck, oh fuck, Miche.” 

 He tumbles down right behind you, panting and telling you in a voice of disbelief, “Jesus, it just keeps coming.” It makes the pulses of your orgasm even stronger, remembrance of all the times he’s painted you in white, and God, you are so ready for him to get back to the school.

 Then, there’s the voice in the back of your head that makes you think maybe it’s better that he’s gone for now, that he might not be too pleased that you’re spending time with another guy. But, it’s not like things with Zeke are going anywhere. You wouldn’t even call him a friend. You text on and off, have brunch or lunch or coffee depending on the time of day. 

 And, yeah, he calls you pet names, tells you that you look nice even when you’re just in leggings and a t-shirt, talks about his family and…

 Okay, it could potentially lead to something more, but it’s only been a week, and considering his golden boy status, he could have anyone he wants, so why would he even be interested in you in any way, shape, or form?

 Naturally, your thoughts circle back to Mike and the way he could have any girl on his arm, but he still chooses to spend time with you. To fuck you. To nearly confess his feelings to you. You have to wonder if you’re emitting some kind of scent or beacon, if there’s a sign hanging above your head with an arrow pointing down. Sports gods, come get a piece. 

 If only you’d never gone to that party. If you had just kept your head down like you had freshman year. Your life would be so much easier now.

 But now you’re in Zeke’s apartment listening to him rant about some philosopher you’ve never even heard of. He’s gesturing with his hands, flipping curling, blond bangs from his face, and whenever he pauses to think, he scratches his beard. He’s very fond of the white t-shirts and jeans get-up, sometimes switches it up and wears a button down under a sweater vest. Both looks are becoming of him no matter how much you try to deny it, but when he drops down onto the couch next to you and peers into your god damn soul with those piercing, blue eyes, you have to choke back a dreamy sigh.

 What is happening to you?

 “So, what do you think about it?” He asks, looking hopeful that you might have some insight on this matter.

 But, you simply laugh and shake your head. “Zeke,” you start. “I’m gonna be real honest with you here. I didn’t understand a fucking thing you just said.”

 You assume he’ll be disappointed, maybe tire of you since you can’t be as intellectually stimulating as he’d like you to, but Zeke exhales in a lighthearted sort of way, shows one of those amused smiles, and tells you, “You’re cute.”

 Anyone else and you would have snapped back, something along the lines of, don’t fucking patronize me, but with Zeke, all you can do is stare at him and let your lips part, silently asking for something you won’t speak out loud.

 His gaze moves to your mouth for a split second. That soft smile turns into one of his famous smirks. Then, he’s back on his feet and asking, “You wanna go to dinner?”

 You are more than relieved at the shift in atmosphere, but your heart is still beating too hard as you follow him downstairs and to his car. 

* Summer is passing quickly. Too quickly. The eleven week classes are kicking your ass, or are close to kicking your ass. Lucky for you, you have your own private tutor just a call or text away. Mike helps you, and you laugh and goof around, shoot off innuendo after innuendo, but the phone sex slows to a halt eventually. You tell him that you’re tired, and you are. It isn’t a lie. But, it also isn’t the full truth.

 Between classes when you could be resting, you’re eating out with Zeke. Or, watching him and the rest of the baseball team practice for the upcoming season. Or, sitting in his apartment, watching movies and chatting about all manner of things. Nothing important, of course—there’s no diving deep into your life story like you had done with Mike over Spring Break, but Zeke still learns the little things about you. Why you’re majoring in geosciences and how you became good friends with some of the Pike guys. You don’t give him the full details on that one—that you got blackout drunk and fucked Mike and just couldn’t stop. You don’t think Zeke would be interested in hearing about it anyway.

 You learn a bit about his dad and stepmom, the latter of whom he isn’t very fond of. He also has a little brother who’ll be attending the college starting this fall, and he’s interested in the Greek life. Naturally, you build PKA up. Even if there are some… Problematic people in the house, there are also a lot of really good guys. 

 “I’ll make sure to pass it along to him,” Zeke tells you one evening as you’re both sprawled on the couch, backs against the armrests as you face each other. It’s how he seems to prefer to sit when the TV isn’t on. When you asked him why, he had told you, “Just like looking at you,” and you didn’t know how to respond. You still don’t know how to respond.

 “Eren thinkin’ about joining any sports?” You ask now. “Does baseball run in the family or anything?”

 Zeke snorts. “Kid couldn’t hit a baseball even if it was on one of the t-ball stands.”

 “I’ll take that as a ‘no’, then.”

 “I would say he’s more academically inclined, but,” Zeke sighs. “That would be a lie.”

 You can never tell if he actually likes his brother. Most of the time he complains about him, but every once in a while he’ll bring up something cute Eren did as a little boy, and you see a fond glimmer in his light eyes. 

 “Anyway,” Zeke waves off the subject and transitions to a new one—one that makes your stomach drop. “Are you gonna tell Zacharias about us?”

 You choke on your own spit, leaning forward to cough a couple times, then challenge him with a nervous laugh, “I wasn’t aware there was anything to tell him.”

 Zeke tilts his head, mouth pulling up as he raises his eyebrows. “Come on,” he chuckles.

 “Come on, what?” You frown. If you were with Mike, you both would have died at that. Come on my face, you can hear him say, and you have to fight a smile because there’s absolutely no way you could explain that to the man in front of you.

 “You don’t have to play coy, sweetheart. We both know there’s something going on between us.” He says it with such confidence that even if he wasn’t right you wouldn’t be able to argue with him. The assumption should annoy you, should make you scoff and leave, but instead you sit there staring, caught up in his gaze and cocky grin.

 “I—”

 “It’s okay, you know. Not like you’re alone in this.”

 Those questions swim through your mind again, all the insecurities that you’ve been sorting through with Mike, but now that voice is louder because that sense of trust hasn’t formed yet. You’ve only connected with Zeke over meals and movies. It sounds domestic, but despite your apparently obvious attraction to him, you still don’t feel like you really know him. 

 But, he draws you in, like a moth to a flame. You can’t help it. There’s just something about him that makes you want him to like you, like you want to impress him, like you want to be good for him. You’ve been trying to ignore those thoughts, but they’re much harder to fight now that you’re sitting in front of him, taking in his wavy hair and pale blue eyes, that ever present smirk on his face, the curve of his neck that disappears into his shirt.

 He could just want sex. He could just want a fling. Wait for everyone to get back on campus and drop you for another girl. You tell yourself you wouldn’t care; you’re good at keeping things casual.

 Wouldn’t it be fun to be his arm candy for a while, though? Let people look at you and whisper louder than they did when they’d see you and Mike together? You don’t care about status, about being in the spotlight. It’s more for the experience, dating someone who could teach you things.

 Mike teaches you things, that voice pops up again. He’s been helping you with your work for almost a year now. You can’t just overlook that. 

 “What, are you weighing the pros and cons over there or something?”

 You snort. “Maybe. We still don’t really know each other all that well, Zeke.”

 “Might I remind you that we’ve been hanging out all summer? Did you honestly think it wouldn’t lead to anything more?”

 “Honestly,” you mimic, “I never thought you’d be interested.”

 “Why wouldn’t I be?” His brow furrows like he’s genuinely confused. “You’re smart. You’re funny. You’re cute.” 

 God, you can’t even count how many times he’s called you ‘cute’, how many times it’s made you blush over the last several weeks, just like it does now.

 Then, he pushes, “Do you not find me at—”

 “Of course I do,” you cut him off. “I don’t know who doesn’t, which is exactly why I don’t know where this is coming from.”

 Zeke sighs like he’s annoyed, then turns the hand on his thigh palm up and beckons you with two fingers. “Come here.”

 “What?”

 “Come here.”

 Your blood pressure spikes, breaths coming in little puffs that have no way of getting to your brain. It’s probably why you obey, rolling to your knees and clumsily crawling over to him. You stop short, right between his bent knees, but Zeke sits up, straightens his legs, and pulls you into his lap.

 More of that precious air leaves your lungs as you exhale too sharply, staring at him with huge eyes. You don’t know what’s happening, can’t believe it’s happening. It doesn’t feel real even as you rest your hands on his shoulders, even when he holds your hips and pulls you so that your full weight is on him, but fuck, you can’t say anything. You can’t make a sound. All you can do is wait for him to make his next move.

 “Why do you look scared?” His voice is just above a whisper, but at this proximity you can hear him without a problem. 

 “I don’t have a lot of experience sitting in men’s laps,” you manage, trying to keep your usual careless tone, but you doubt it works.

 “For some reason I don’t believe that.”

 You rear back, actually offended. “Excuse m—”

 That ire, however, melts away as quickly as it arose. Zeke slides fingers up your waist, all the way to the back of your neck to bring your face to his—your lips to his. 

 He feels different, not at all what you’re used to. His kiss is more demanding, hungry, and God, you still can’t breathe, can’t think straight because his tongue is moving past your lips, and you’re letting it, letting him taste you as your fingertips dig into the flesh of his shoulders. You lift yourself from him just a little only for Zeke to pull you back down with the hand still gripping your hip. He makes sure you feel him when he grinds up into you, the zipper of his jeans rubbing you through your little shorts so that you gasp into his mouth. 

 You both stay like that for what feels like a fucking eternity, biting and sucking on lips, stroking over each others’ tongues until you absolutely have to break apart. You’re panting now, body still tense on top of his, and Zeke stares at you with half-lidded eyes and shows the ghost of a smile.

 “Oh, I’m gonna have so much fun with you.”

 The statement sets you on fire, so much so that all you can do is whimper quietly and lean in for more. 

  And, as you get lost in Zeke Jaeger, you decide for yourself.

I need to tell Mike

[ next ]

[13uswntimagines]

Better To Be Friends Than Competition (Lindsey x Reader)

Author’s Note: This Technically wasn’t requested, but @literaryhedgehog and i had a blast writing this. It’s the Harry Potter AU. Basically, reader is a muggleborn who really wants to be a chaser, but maybe there’s a better position for her on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. This is the beginning of what will be a multi-part series following the building romance between two amazing characters and how our golden octet help them out along the way. 

@sleep-deprived-athlete​

“Alright, you’ve all been told the rules and had the chance to warm up. So let’s start by dividing into groups. Anyone who wants to be a seeker follow Mia there to the far side of the field. Beaters to the left with Foudy. Keepers to the goalposts with Hope. And chasers with me up top,” Brandi said with a wave of her hand, kicking off of the ground and heading towards where her group was going to meet. 

You snuck a glance to either side of you as you also kick off and head to your position, trying to guess who out of the eight students around you is going to be your biggest competition. Surely you thought more people would have wanted a chance at a spot on one of the best teams at Hogwarts. Tryouts had been packed for the last two years. 

You wondered which drill Brandi was going to start with as you approached the group (said woman was idily tossing a quaffle lightly in her hands as she talked to another one of your competition). For the last 2 years it was always a set of passing drills, where would-be chasers played a very complicated game of catch up and down the pitch. 

Maybe those tryouts were supposed to be private, but how else could you prepare for them if you didn’t know what to expect? 

Quidditch was honestly a really weird sport. Well, American football made less sense, but you hadn’t exactly studied the rules as extensively as you had Quidditch. Like, the game literally would not end until someone caught the snitch. According to Quidditch through the Ages a game had literally lasted for months. You remembered watching a tennis game that lasted for four days before, but generally the muggle sports you grew up with were more consistent in how long each game took.  

“Oh yeah”, you thought, watching the beaters line up across the pitch, “and there is also a ball charmed to try and knock people off their broom. That’s not normal.” Though it was something your dad found hilarious. 

Sports were always something the two of you could talk about, even before you found out you had magic. He loved the fact that you loved football as much as he did, and was thrilled by the fact that you had enough talent to play it in your primary school. 

Though with your hand eye coordination you had done better with cricket, and baseball the few times you had a chance to play it in gym. So when you had joined the wizarding world you naturally had gotten into quidditch. Learned everything you could about the game so you could give him detailed play by plays about the games when you sent owls home. 

At this point you were dying to play. You were too short to be a beater or a keeper, but you knew you could be a chaser. You could catch like nobody’s business, and you had at least half of the tactics in The Beginner's Quidditch Playbook memorized. You were going to be the best damn chaser Hogwarts had ever seen. 

“Hey space captain, you ready for this?” 

“What?” You froze, heat flooding your cheeks at being caught not paying attention. You slowly turned to face the new presence. 

You knew the girl. Well. You knew of the girl (it was impossible not to know about the very pretty blond girl). She was in your house and year (and therefore in your dorm as well as all your classes) but the two of you had never really interacted before. She seemed to already know everyone and everything when she got to Hogwarts, so it didn’t really seem like she was looking for friends, and it was hard enough trying to figure out your new life without having people look at you strangely when you didn’t know a word they used. Not that Lindsey, you thought that’s her name anyway, had done that, but other purebloods did. It was easier figuring things out on your own to start, and by the time you did, you and Lindsey had already established yourselves in different friend groups. Was her name Lindsey? A Slytherin in your year was always calling her strange nicknames, so it was hard to tell. 

“The drill. Are you ready for the drill space captain?” The girl asked again. 

“Yeah, but I’m not a captain. I’m a second year, like you,” You said softly, your eyebrows furrowing. Maybe that was a wizard saying, but you had no idea what she was talking about. Your heart also dropped just a touch because if she thought you were a captain then she had absolutely no idea who you were. 

She shook her head with a giggle (showing off her dimples). “My dad says that’s what muggles call a person with their head in the clouds,” 

You cocked your head to the side, your brain running a million miles an hour to try and figure out what she meant. But then it clicked. “Oh you mean space cadet,” 

“I guess,” She shrugged, seemingly unbothered about the correct verbiage. 

The whistle blowing brought both of your attention back towards Brandi and the first set of would-be chasers beginning the crossing drill. You coughed to hide a scoff when Lynn Williams raced at breakneck speed up the pitch, and released the quaffle at least 30 feet off where the chasing captain had instructed. 

You shook your head at the play. It was too sloppy, too open and it would never connect well with JJ and Alex up top. 

“Not impressed by what you see?” Lindsey asked, her eyebrow quirking up (trying very hard to pretend she wasn’t interested in your answer. You were her competition after all). 

“Not after Alex basically destroyed the same course last year. She’s got an 85% accuracy rating on goal and nearly 60% of her shots come off of left crosses. Williams isn’t getting high enough on the pitch to provide an adequate pass,”  You mumbled out quickly, wincing when Lynn made the same mistake on the way back, nearly sending her partner (a girl in the year below you named Mal) into the stands to catch it (though you were slightly impressed that Mal managed to grab it before it landed in the seats). 

“Yeah, I see what you mean. Her throws tend to either go too short or too long. Even if it doesn’t go directly to her partner it at least needs to be consistent so during a game the person she’s throwing it to knows where to intercept it before the other team does,” Lindsey said, taking a hand off her broom to shield her eyes.

“She’s fast but it won’t help if she forces the other chaser off her line to provide service to Alex in front of the posts,” You huffed. Having her on that side would be a positioning nightmare. It left the team open and vulnerable to so many different attacking options. 

“I am not entirely sure what that means,” Lindsey said, smirking as she looked sideways at you, “but it sounds like you don’t think she’s competition, which is good news for us!’

You opened your mouth to respond, only to be cut off by Brandi’s whistle. “Alright next pair up,” 

You gulped and tightened your fingers on your broom “Guess it’s showtime,” You muttered, surging forward to the starting line. 

“Good luck space captain, you’re gonna need it,” Lindsey called back towards you with a wink, taking the ball from Brandi. 

You shook your head. You wouldn’t need luck. A fucking golden retriever could beat out the performance you had just whitnessed. As long as you didn’t fall off your brooms, you both would be fine. 

***

You raced towards the hoops, reaching your arm out to pluck the perfectly timed ball out of its arc towards the ground. Okay, Lindsey was good. Really good. She HAD to have known how bad Lynn’s throws were, because hers were positively perfect. Your throws were good, but Lindsey had this way of arching the ball up through the air if a perfect loop so it practically fell into your hands. There was no way she didn’t practice over the summer. 

You neared the posts, starting to make your u-turn to pass the ball back when a flash of gold caught your eyes. Before you really thought it through, the hand anchoring you to your broom had already lifted to snatch it out of the air on instinct. You had played cricket for most of your life- it was instinct to reach out and grab a ball that looked like it was about to fly into your face. 

The next few seconds happened almost in slow motion. As your fingers closed around the cool metal, you realized just how far to your side you had to lean to reach the object, and how far off balance it had put you. Your legs crossed tightly as you flipped completely upside down on your broom, entirely unwilling to let go of the object you had just caught or the large quaffle still tucked tightly under your arm. Before you really knew what was happening, you were staring straight at the ground, your legs the only thing keeping you in the air. 

“Holy shit, holy shit. Um, hey Lindsey?” You called, eyes on the ground below you. 

“What?” You heard her call. You idly wondered why one of the captains hadn’t put a stop to this yet and put you out of your misery. 

“Catch?” You threw the quaffle, well tossed it really, up into the air towards where you thought the other girl was. You knew it was going to be short, but also knew that she was going to catch it anyway. She really was that good. With your now free hand you reached up and grabbed the handle of your broom so you could pull yourself to it and rotate back to an upright position. 

Only then did you look down at the tiny ball fluttering in your hand. The tiny, almost leathery, wings flapped like it was waving hello. You stared at it in awe, your lips ticking up. You had just caught the golden snitch. You never thought you would get to touch the snitch, much less catch it. 

“Hey you” a voice called from the pitch behind you. You turned to look as Mia flew from where the seeker candidates were staring hopelessly at the sky around them to land on the pitch. “Get down here. Yeah, you on the drills.” She motioned down to the pitch, indicating where you should land, then turned her head to call over her shoulder, “Brandi I’m taking number 2.” 

You quickly flew towards where she had pointed, shakily dismounting from your broom. You weren’t sure if it was fear, adrenaline or nerves, but your legs felt like jelly. You clutched the little ball in your hand so tightly that you were sure there was going to be an imprint in your palm later. 

“What in Merlin’s name are you doing in the chaser section?” Mia said, tucking her broom under her arm and throwing her hand up towards the group of would be chasers throwing a ball around at varying distances. (You tried not to wince when Lynn nearly pegged Mal in the face again). 

“Um, trying to be a chaser? I was always a good forward so I thought it might fit?” You mumbled with a shrug, scratching the back of your neck with your free hand. a light shade of pink covered your cheeks. It was a little embarrassing how clueless you were with the magical world sometimes, and how even after being here for two full years, you still felt completely out of your depth. 

“That’d be like using a cauldron as a teacup because they’re both the same shape. It’d work but what a waste!” 

“I…- I have no idea what that means. I know I caught the wrong thing, and I’m sorry. I’ll leave now if that’s what you want,” You stuttered out, suddenly finding the way your shoe poked the pitch underneath you interesting. 

“No, kid you misunderstand me. Look, you, what’s your name again?” Mia stepped closer, tilting her head as she looked at you. 

“Y/n. Y/n Y/l/n,” 

“Right, Y/n, you could play chaser. You’d even be a decent one with a bit of work. But that’d be a damn waste of talent. You’re a natural seeker. I’m not upset with you for catching the wrong ball, I’m upset you weren’t over in my section trying to catch the snitch in the first place. Look at that lot over there, they still think it’s somewhere over the stands.” Mia stepped next to you and turned, gestured to the group of seeker hopefuls flying in circles near the Ravenclaw seats. 

“Oh,” You breathed out, following her hand to look at the large group. They were squinting towards the stands and swooping low at whatever they thought they had spotted, seemingly oblivious to the fact that the snitch had been caught on the other side of the pitch and that Mia wasn’t even paying attention to them anymore. 

“I’ve had a lot of practice spotting this ball,” Mia said, tapping the snitch trapped in your hand. “I was able to see it within about a minute of it being released, and have been watching it since. None of them saw it when it was on their side of the field, but you saw it instantly- even when you were focused on something else. That is a talent Y/n. Why didn’t you try out for seeker in the first place?”

“I didn’t know how to practice for it, and that-. It wasn’t like any of the other positions I have ever played,” You muttered, trying to cover your insecurity with a nonchalant shrug. It seemed like the position that required the most innate ability, and as a muggleborn you didn’t think you had any. 

Mia nodded slowly looking at you. “Right,” she said, turning and mounting her broom, “I wanna run you through some drills. Come on.”

You blinked at the woman as she hovered in front of you. Your eyes darting between Mia and the object still clutched tightly in your hand. Where were you supposed to put it? Were you supposed to let it go? 

You brought your palm up so it was level with your eyes and opened your hand, half expecting the snitch to fly away. It didn’t. It’s wings slowly unfurled and it waved docilely at you. Like an old friend. 

“What’re you waiting for?” Mia called down at you.

“It won’t fly away!” You called back, looking up at the woman, who rolled her eyes indulgently. 

“Of course not, it’s yours. You caught it, and you can watch it like some love-struck puppy later- stash it in your pocket and come on!”

***

You were having a fucking blast, even though you had no idea what you were in for when you joined the seeker group. Every year when you watched tryouts, you never payed attention to what they had to do, as you never thought you would have to do it. Even without the advantage, you were killing it. 

You had been separated into pairs, just like the chasers were, but Mia had enchanted clear balls (the size of tennis balls) to randomly fly through the air. The balls were given a 5 second head start before you and your partner were allowed to race to catch it. Now this was familiar, the jostling of arms while racing after a ball and trying to prevent someone else from getting to it before you. Only once out of five rounds did your opponent get to the ball before you, but really, that elbow to your ribs was a red card if you’d ever seen one. 

Then everyone took turns hovering in the air as Mia took ten of the enchanted balls and flicked them up haphazardly one by one every five seconds. The goal was to catch as many of them as you could before they hit the ground, even as they were sent up in different directions and some much higher in the air than others. You didn’t get all of them, but the seven you saved still seemed to impress the other seeker candidates who didn’t scowl. The second highest number saved was six, but that girl still congratulated you as you got off your broom, since “those last few of them went way further out than they did for me- and you were an inch away from that eighth one!” 

You nodded, smiling at her, though you were probably more embarrassed than she realized about that eighth one. That one had been sent towards the far side of the field, where you looked up to meet Lindsey’s eyes. You had been placed perfectly to catch the ball as it started falling from it’s apex, but in the moment your hand faltered, and it brushed by your hand instead. You cursed and considered going after it, but then you flew back to where Mia had already released one of the last two on the other side of the field. 

“Alright, for our last drill, we’re going to try to catch a real snitch again,” Mia said, pulling another golden ball out from inside her robes and holding it between her thumb and pointer finger. Its wings sprung out and flapped wildly, unlike the slow waving of the one in your pocket. 

Everything in you wanted to catch the little golden ball. To tame it like you had the other one. For it to sit calmly in your hand and wave hello like an old friend. 

“Isn’t the other one still out there?” The same girl asked, her head tilting to the side. 

“It’s been taken care of,” Mia smirked and shook her head, sending a little glance in your direction. The girl stared at her wide eyed, opening and closing her mouth as though she wanted to say more, but Mia again cut her off with a stern glare. ”As I was saying, the first of you to catch it gets to keep it and also gets a boost to the points on their scorecard. Now line up,” 

You all flew low on the pitch, forming a circle with Mia and the snitch at its center. Your eyes never left the frantically flapping little ball as you waited for her whistle to blow. There was no way it was going to escape you and if you got to show off for the would be chasers watching you near the posts, that was fine with you too. 

***

“Congratulations Y/n! There’s no way you won’t get picked to be seeker,” the girl said, after Mia released you, promising that the results of the tryouts would be posted next week. 

“Oh, um thanks-...” You said trailing off towards the end, awkwardly rubbing the back of your neck. You didn’t know her name. 

“Oh, sorry. You missed introductions at the beginning. I’m Savannah, from two years above you.” Savannah grinned at you, a bit ruefully. “You know, I thought this was going to be my year to nail the seeker position. But with you on the team, there’s no WAY we’re gonna lose to Slytherin. And Lloyd can stop looking so smug about the cup win last year.”

“The only reason they were better is because they had Amy and Sydney scoring.  They won despite her and her stupid tactics. If Slytherin actually got a decent seeker then we’d be in trouble,” Lindsey said, throwing her arm over your shoulder and stepping to walk between you and Savannah. 

“Carli’s decent, just distracted I think. She had NEWTS along with scouters and stuff,” you muttered, a bit defensively. You know you weren’t supposed to like the Slytherins- house competition and all that- but Carli’s strategy was pretty impressive. The recruiters certainly seemed to think so, you heard rumors that the recruiters from the Wasps and Arrows had a bidding war before the Harpies showed interest. 

“Pshh it was just the Harpies recruiter. Even if they have Potter, she’d still probably tank their win streak. At least that’d help my team,” Lindsey snorted, shaking her head. 

Your eyebrows furrowed. The Harpies were the second oldest team in the league, and since they recruited Ginny they had been on a tear taking down the Cannons and the Magpies in the final games of the European cup three years running. You thought Carli’s strategy would fit nicely in their ranks. 

“I’m pretty sure there were Wasps recruiters and Magpies guys here too,” Savannah said to Lindsey. You noticed her eyes glanced towards Lindsey’s arm around your shoulder as she smiled widely. Lindsey dramatically rolled her eyes. 

“Which team is yours?” You asked softly, leaning your head on Lindsey's shoulder as you trudged towards the locker room, ignoring Savannah. 

“The cannons of course,” Lindsey said confidently. Savannah seemed to be hiding a smirk, and waved goodbye at you as she headed into the locker room. 

“They’re pretty alright, but Ronaldo is a little too cocky for me. Sinclare and Potter together are a lethal combo for the Harpies and with Angerer in goal they’re like unstoppable,” You hummed thoughtfully. You also liked that the Harpies were an all female team. 

“Ugh, you sound like Emily,” Lindsey said, rolling her eyes. “She and Sam are giant Magpies supporters.” 

“I mean the Magpies have a 75% score rate while the Cannons are only at a 60. And Messi catches the snitch within the first hour 80% of the time, while Ronaldo’s catches take about 85 minutes on average,” you rattled off. So maybe you were a little too into statistics. At least your dad never had to worry about your math skills. 

“No way, they’re super into team stats too! Maybe you can help me convince Emily and Sam that the Cannons are the best team!”

“But Emily and Sam, whoever they are, are right. The stats don’t lie,” You said with furrowed eyebrows. 

“Oh, Emily is my friend in Slytherin and Sam‘s in Hufflepuff. I’ll introduce you later.” Lindsey said waving a hand in the air. “Anyway, the Magpies may have Messi, but the Cannons have heart! And isn’t that what really matters to make a good team great?”

You paused, pulling Lindsey to a stop beside you. “I know they don’t teach math here, but Statistics beat heart any day.” 

Lindsey laughed and shoved you playfully to the side. “You haven’t even met them and already you’re ganging up on me.” 

“I’m just stating facts. The hat almost put me in Ravenclaw cause I just love random factoids so much,” you smirked, tucking yourself back under her outstretched arm (it was just so warm and it made you feel… safe). 

“Well, I’m glad you’re in Gryffindor. It's way better to have you as a teammate than competition Space captain. Now let’s go- if we hurry we can probably get to the library to work on that potions essay before curfew.” 

[closedafterdark]

Since you are so good at writing threesome, can you write one where Yeji is y/n girlfriend, and Ryunjin your both bestfriend and you all decide to do a sleepover at your place only to turn into a night of passionate and wild threesome sex all over the place.

Another boring Tuesday evening means being stuck at home, flipping through channels. Various sport games, news about current events, and a documentary about a baby lion in captivity are just some of the programs that whirl by your eyes that are glued to the screen.

“Where is she, it’s so boring being alone…” you said aloud as your eyes watch a wildebeest get mauled by a lion. Tapping the remote control on the armrest of the sofa, your prayers are answered as your phone screen comes alive and the all too familiar ringtone begins playing. Fumbling around in the darkness of the living room, you managed to find it.

“Hello?”

“Hi, baby! What are you up to right now?”

“Just bored at home, why?”

“Really? That’s great! Come over, now. I’m horny.”

You answered the call without so much as checking to see who the person on the other line was and before you could do so, it ended and your phone returned to being a dark screen. Although you felt warm and cozy in your apartment, you drove over to your girlfriend’s place as logically she could be the only person to call you at this time to come over. Ringing the doorbell, there is no response from inside until you hear the door unlock and are greeted warmly.

“Hi, baby!” a familiar voice says to you as you are swiftly pulled inside. When the door has barely closed, you feel a pair of soft lips pressed against you as you are pinned against the door. Your eyes widened as you realized who was kissing you.

“Ryu-”

Her kisses were playful, full of mischief as your lips connected to each other passionately. You slowly closed your eyes and let out a satisfied moan in her mouth as she continues.

“Hi, baby!” she repeated again. Shin Ryujin. A woman who you have gotten close to lately in more ways than one. She loved being in control whenever the two of you would get intimate. “So glad you got here so quickly. Mommy’s hungry.”

“Where’s - ahh - where’s Yeji?” you said as Ryujin sucked on your neck.

“Don’t worry about her, she’s fine. Besides…” Ryujin said as she swiftly undressed you before planting a trail of kisses down your chest and stomach. “Mommy will take good care of you.”

Ryujin licks her lips in excitement as she looks up at you and smiles, dropping down to her knees. She bites her lower lip as her soft hand grabs onto the base of your cock. You let out a soft moan as she flattens her tongue and starts from your base and moves upwards. You moan out softly as your body melts from Ryujin’s touch.

Her soft hands are cold, which makes the feeling of them on your cock and balls very satisfying. Her tongue is warm, painting you with her saliva as you look down and are greeted with pure joy and excitement in her eyes. Once you see your cock glistening with her spit, Ryujin strokes your cock at a brisk rhythm. She uses a series of counterclockwise motions and runs her thumb across the slit of your tip as her hands leave you in a weak kneed yet highly aroused state. Ryujin blows hot air on your balls before taking them inside her mouth.

“Oh fuck, mommy…” you said, releasing a loud moan. She uses both of her hands to continue stroking your cock as she gives your balls detailed attention. She sucks on your balls individually, using an intense suction technique before releasing them with a loud pop. You groaned as she used her nails to gently scratch the underside of your scrotum before proceeding to take both of your balls simultaneously into her mouth. You feel her tongue vibrate as Ryujin moans on your balls. You forget to breathe, having been so immersed in the pleasure she is providing you. Eventually she finally releases you from her mouth, both of you gasping for air.

“You like that, baby?” Ryujin asked you, wiping up saliva with the back of her hand as she smiles at you before parting her lips and taking your cock inside her mouth.

“Oh fuck…” you moaned as your cock begins to enter Ryujin’s warm and wet mouth. She flattens her tongue as much as possible as inch by inch of your shaft disappears. She takes you only halfway before slowly retreating from your cock. You whined softly at the feeling of her mouth leaving you as Ryujin leaves only your tip in her mouth. She teases you by repeating these motions several times, squeezing your thighs in order to keep your attention focused on her. She smiles through her eyes as you watched your cock disappearing into her mouth once more.

Ryujin’s lips formed an airtight seal around your cock as you savor the warmth and copious amounts of spit her mouth provides. Her tongue swirls around your tip as you travel in and out of her willing mouth. She keeps one hand on your thigh while her other one fondles your still slightly wet balls, massaging them as she works her magic between your legs. Every action she performed on you was meticulously planned, providing an overall harmony to the performance she was putting on. You let out a steady stream of satisfied moans at the purely erotic act of Ryujin giving you one of her patented blowjobs. As she begins to increase her pace and take your cock deeper inside her mouth, you cannot prevent the moans escaping from your lips from being too loud.

Her hand that was fondling your balls returns to your thigh as she sucks your cock even faster, taking you deep inside her wanton mouth. You feel her lips opening up slightly as the large amount of spit she built up begins to seep out and flood your cock and balls before dripping onto the floor. You reach down and run your fingers through the short dark blue locks of Ryujin’s hair before grabbing both sides of her head. You guided her rhythm, watching her fuck her mouth with your cock as your tip repeatedly strikes the back of her throat. Every bob of her head causes the sounds of Ryujin gagging on your cock to fill the living room. You were afraid she was taking on more than she could handle, but the angry glint in her eyes when you tried removing her head caused you to apologize as she jams your cock as far back into her throat as she was able to.

“Fuck mommy’s mouth, baby.” Ryujin said when she released your cock from her mouth. You grabbed both sides of her head once more pushing your cock into her with short, shallow thrusts in order to get her accustomed to your pace. She takes your initial thrusts well, the sound of your tip hitting her throat providing both of you a satisfied sound. You gradually increased your pace until you are soon rapidly forcing her head down. She maintained eye contact with you the entire time, staring deeply into your eyes as her throat provides a wet satisfying pleasure. The sounds of Ryujin gagging increase in volume as you fuck her mouth roughly. Her hands grip your thighs for support as her spit splashes on her chin and cheeks. You tilt your head back as you continue to push her face into your crotch. Ryujin’s nails dig into your skin as her moans are suppressed by your cock filling her pretty mouth up. You pushed her head all the way down your base, only releasing her after what you believe to be a minute later as well as Ryujin tapping on your thighs. Her mouth released its hold on your cock with another loud pop, allowing you to admire the mess her face has become because of you fucking her face. Her hair began clinging to her forehead as the lower half of her face is covered in her saliva.

Ryujin manages to give you a sweet smile as you see excess strings of spit hanging off her lips and chin. You pouted at her as the both of you began to catch your breath.

“I was about to cum, mommy.” you whined.

“I know baby, that’s why I stopped.” she teased. “You fucked my face so well. But it’s time for the main event.”

Rising to her knees, Ryujin gives you a deep kiss before turning away and booking over her shoulder towards you. Flashing you a mischievous smile, she grabs your cock and strokes you before dragging you into her bedroom. Your heart beats in excitement. This was the first time you were going to have sex with Ryujin in her own bed, most of your time together was at your place or in various hotels.

“Hope you like the surprise, baby.”

Unsure of what she means, her hand continues to stroke your cock as she opens her bedroom door with the other. Expecting her bed to be empty, your eyes widened as you see her roommate, Hwang Yeji, tied to Ryujin’s headboard naked and blindfolded. Her body was fully exposed as you heard the faint sound of a vibrator inside Yeji along with her stifled moans.

“Yeji, are you okay?” you asked.

“It’s no use, baby. Mommy has her tied up and wearing earplugs. She missed out on hearing mommy play with her favorite toy.” Ryujin said, clearly referring to your cock.

Ryujin gently pushes you onto a sofa chair near her desk as she straddles your lap. She places a finger under your chin, tilting your head up towards her. She grinds her crotch against yours before pushing her hair back seductively and leaning down to give you a passionate and deep kiss. Your lips reciprocate, gently biting her lower lip as Ryujin laughs at your actions. Your hands caress her muscular thighs before reaching her soft, pillowy ass and giving them a gentle squeeze. You raised your hands before giving each of her cheeks a harsh slap. Ryujin moans into your mouth as the two of you continue kissing. She wraps her arms behind your neck while still grinding on your lap. The two of you break the connection of your lips, catching your breath at the same time.

As you removed one hand from her asscheek, you grabbed your cock and slowly began to reposition Ryujin so that you could insert it inside of her. Ryujin notices what you are doing and places her hands on your neck, softly squeezing it.

“Now now, baby. Mommy isn’t that easy to fuck, you know that.”

Getting off your lap, Ryujin goes to her nightstand drawer and looks for something inside. Thinking she was going to sit on you once more, you grab onto her wide hips and pull her closer. Unfortunately, that is what Ryujin wants as in an instant, she ties your wrists together and stuffs a laced fabric into your mouth before you feel another similar fabric being tied to the back of your head.

“That is so you can’t stop mommy as I go over there and give my roommate, your new bitch, some undivided attention. You know baby, I’m really disappointed. Mommy always takes such good care of you and you go and want to find someone else. Well, I can’t have that.”

Your screams are muffled by what your mouth feels to be Ryujin’s thong as you watched her slowly climb onto the bed. She begins by kissing Yeji deeply on the lips. The action takes the older of the two by surprise before she eases into it, reciprocating. Ryujin mirrors what she did on your lap as she wraps her arms around Yeji’s neck, sitting on her lap and moaning as she feels the vibrator inside Yeji vibrate on her own clit. Their kiss is passionate and intense, yet somehow able to maintain a softness to it.

Ryujin has always had a dominant personality, even more so in the bedroom. As Yeji tries and fails to move her arms that were tied to the headboard, Ryujin bites on her lower lip as her eyes become half-lidded with pleasure. You tried to move your hands, realizing the impressive knot work Ryujin has tied you up with. Ryujin’s hands roamed Yeji’s body, wanting nothing more than to touch every single part of her. You watched as they slowly made their way down to Yeji’s ass, squeezing each cheek before giving her several harsh slaps at once. Each causes Yeji to release a loud moan, the sensations of being stimulated by multiple sources as well as the denial of her sight and hearing caused her pussy to leak profusely.

Ryujin’s continued fondling of Yeji’s ass causes Yeji’s mouth to open, releasing soundless moans. Ryujin buries her head into the crook of Yeji’s neck, kissing and sucking on it until she manages to leave a mark.

“K-Kiss, me please…” Yeji whimpers as Ryujin laughs softly and accepts the request. You had to watch in torture as their tongues dueled with each other, the pleasure coursing through Yeji’s body as Ryujin plays with her perky nipples. The two of them shower each other with kisses as Ryujin gently squeezes Yeji’s breasts. While neither of them are large by any means, the way Ryujin fondles them causes your cock to react by pulsing. Ryujin breaks the kiss and licks Yeji’s lips, causing Yeji to whine at the loss of Ryujin.

Ryujin’s impatience begins to show as she removes the vibrator inside Yeji, causing her to breathe a huge sigh of relief. It is short lived though as Ryujin takes two fingers into her mouth and coats them with her saliva before pushing them inside Yeji’s quivering lips.

“Oh fuck…!” Yeji screamed.

Ryujin’s fingertips reached the innermost part of Yeji’s pussy as she turned her head back slightly and smiled at you. You watched as Ryujin’s fingers disappeared in between Yeji’s legs. Pleasure overtakes Yeji’s facial features as Ryujin’s fingers are inserted deeper.

“Look how wet this slut is for mommy, baby.” Ryujin said. “She’s so wet for me, not you.”

Every noise that is released from Yeji’s mouth is a mixture of a scream and a moan as you watch Ryujin’s wrist twist when she adds an extra finger inside.

“She’s tight, baby. I think she’s even tighter than me.”

With only her pinky and thumb not inside Yeji, you watched as Yeji’s legs turned to jelly in the same way yours did when Ryujin gave you head. It seems as if Ryujin performing oral sex on someone has that effect. Yeji desperately tries to lay on the bed but is unable to due to her wrists being tied to the headboard.

“What’s wrong, baby? Want to lie down? Too bad mommy tied you up good.” Ryujin smirked, knowing full well Yeji could not hear a thing. You watched as Yeji’s mouth formed a perfect “O” shape as wordless sounds of pleasure continued to escape her lips.

“I can see why you wanted to fuck her, baby. This slut is so fucking tight. And she’s so drenched, too. I can only imagine how good her pussy felt on your dick.” Ryujin said to you.

You were surprised at how long it has taken for Yeji to cum, as you were sure you wouldn’t be able to if you were in her situation. Her senses are overwhelmed as you watch Yeji’s body wrack with pleasure.

“Oh fuck, baby… I… fuck…” Yeji moaned loudly. “I’m going to…”

Yeji loses control of her motor skills, only responding to Ryujin’s actions with long, passionate moans.

“You want to fuck my boyfriend, don’t you Yeji? You dirty slut. He is my cock before yours. My playtoy. Mine and only mine. Isn’t that right, baby? You only belong to mommy.”

Yeji squirms as she moans softly, wanting to surrender herself to the pleasure while simultaneously prolonging it. Ryujin turns around and smiles at you while squeezing Yeji’s breast.

“You like fucking this body, don’t you baby? Cumming inside this pussy that mommy is playing with?”

What Ryujin doesn’t know is that you have patiently been undoing the knot she has done to your wrists, not beating yourself when you fail at removing it quickly.

Yeji lets out a loud, ear deafening scream as her legs spasm as an orgasm wracks her body. Ryujin holds onto Yeji’s body for support as Yeji’s body shakes and gives in to the pleasure radiating from her legs.

Several long seconds pass as Yeji writhes in pleasure, being supported by Ryujin’s muscular arms, which rub Yeji’s arms and shoulders in comfort. Once Yeji’s orgasm subsides, her skin is visibly flushed and a rosy shade of pink as she slowly begins to regain her senses. Ryujin plans a tender kiss on her lips before removing the earplugs and mask that was covering Yeji’s vision.

As Yeji slowly opens her eyes, her eyes begin to focus on her surroundings. She feels herself tied to a bed and sees a smiling Ryujin on her lap. She gives a weak smile before turning to one side of the room and sees that you have finally freed yourself from Ryujin’s knot work. Opening her mouth to try and say something, she is interrupted as Ryujin crashes her lips against Yeji’s.

Their intimate exchange is interrupted as Ryujin is suddenly removed from Yeji’s lap and her face is pushed into the bedsheets. She turns her head and sees you have managed to free yourself from her fabric. Her eyes widen as you deliver harsh slaps on her ass.

“Mommy thinks she can tie me up and get away with it?” you said, anger in your voice as you squeezed her hips and slap both of her ass cheeks once more. Ryujin moans into the bed as Yeji watches you both intently. Not wanting to waste any time, you help Ryujin up before pushing her head in between Yeji’s legs. You then hold onto her wide hips once more and insert your cock inside her.

“Fuck…” Ryujin moaned, as her eyes opened widely at the feeling of you penetrating her pussy. Yeji bites her lips as she feels Ryujin’s head sink into her pussy. Ryujin gives Yeji slow, long licks from bottom to top as she releases long, drawn out sighs.

Your cock remains inside Ryujin as you are aroused by the two women giving and receiving pleasure. It doesn’t take very long for Yeji’s second orgasm to arrive as she arches her back and writes from head to toe as Ryujin feats upon Yeji’s scrumptious pussy. Her head bobs silently as she feels slow vertical licks on her lips. Yeji’s half-lidded eyes become fully closed as she throws her head back and lets out another soundless scream of pleasure.

The orgasm washes over Yeji’s body as she is now a sweaty, panting mess. The soft bedroom light above the three of you allows you to see the soft rose tint on her cheeks and thighs. Ryujin’s head rises from the work she has done between Yeji’s legs, showing you both her chin and lips glistening from Yeji’s juices. She wipes most of it off before kissing the inner creases of Yeji’s thighs.

“Fuck me, baby.” Ryujin said, in a loud volume that even surprised her. “Fuck mommy now.”

Your cock already inside Ryujin, you filled her to the brim as you savored the feeling of pure pleasure her tight pussy is giving you. As you withdraw your cock until only your tip is inside her, you plunge in and out of her in order to begin establishing a steady rhythm. The bed underneath you all creaks softly as you hold onto Ryujin’s hips for support.

Yeji pushes Ryujin’s head back down onto her own pussy as the three of you form a pleasure train of sorts. The sensations are almost too much for you all - the extreme softness of Ryujin’s thighs as you grip them, the moans coming from Yeji’s mouth from each thrust of yours into Ryujin’s body which pushes her head deeper into Yeji’s pussy. But the feeling that overtakes all others is the feeling of the soft, wet tight silk that is Ryujin’s pussy wrapped around your cock as you fuck her.

“Y-You like fucking her, daddy?” Yeji moaned. “You like fucking that tight pussy that squeezes your cock so tight? You like her moans for you?”

“I do, fuck…” you moaned as you slap Ryujin’s ass.

“Then keep fucking this slut, daddy.” Yeji said as she pushed Ryujin’s head deeper.

This newfound confession increases the speed and depth of your thrusts as you earn eliciting increasingly louder moans from both women. You begin to feel Ryujin push her ass against your crotch, each slam of wet skin against wet skin a symphony of erotica for the three of you to indulge on.

“Fuck!” Yeji screams as Ryujin gently bites on her clit. “Fuck that feels so good!”

Yeji is satisfied for now to watch you fuck Ryujin.

“It’s my turn…” Yeji said, holding Ryujin’s head in order for her to stop. “It’s my turn to be fucked by him. Fuck me, daddy.”

As you stop thrusting inside Ryujin and are about to pull out of her, Ryujin notices this and pushes her ass against you, filling her up once more. She gives you the deadliest glare you have ever seen on her before her eyes turn to Yeji’s.

“He will fuck you when I say he can fuck you. For now, his cock is mommy’s. Isn’t that right, baby? You love mommy’s pussy more, don’t you? Not some slut with daddy issues.”

“H-Hey! He can call me mommy too!”

“Not with this sad excuse of a pussy he won’t. Your pussy doesn’t even grip his cock properly.”

“What are you doing, baby?” Ryujin asked, her icy cold stare terrifying you slightly. “I never told you to stop fucking me.”

“Fuck… fuck me just like this. Baby, that feels so fucking good. Oh fuck!” Ryujin says as you quickly settled into another comfortable rhythm fucking her from behind. “Fuck me hard. Fuck me harder than you’ve ever fucked this slut!”

You increased your pace, your wet cock plunging in and out of Ryujin’s curvy wanton body.

It was just the beginning of a long, body fluid and pleasure-filled night for the three of you.

[alpacaparkaseok]

Relentless

I choose you.

→ Pairing: KTH x oc

→ warnings/tags/genre: SFW, soulmate au, angsty, fluff, mentions of a past abusive relationship

→ word count: 5.9k

→ a/n: made it! this is the bonus chapter of the original series “Lost & Found”, which I would recommend reading before you read this because it might not make a lot of sense otherwise. Please be aware that this jumps timelines a bit, so be aware of the headings before each section. 

I hope you guys enjoy! Thank you all for waiting so patiently!

--

“Hello, my name is Christina, and I…”

           “Take your time, Christina.”

           She takes a deep breath, keeping her eyes on the floor even as all eyes around the circle are on her. “I cut my thread because my soulmate…he wasn’t a good man.”

           Another deep breath.

           “And I think I may have ruined a lot of other people’s relationships.”

           Kim Taehyung, Kim Taehyung, Kim Taeh-

--

           It’s been eight months since Christina has seen Taehyung’s soulmate, after firmly ordering her to find someone else to cut her thread.

           “I’m not doing it,” Christina seethed. Angry, but for what? A real chance at love? Even as the thought crosses her mind, she scoffs. False hope is all that it is. “If you’re so set on ruining your life, go find someone else to help you.”

           Ae remains composed, almost terrifyingly so. She stands with her arms crossed, her back to the warehouse door. She looks around at the tools lying around, no doubt trying to figure out exactly how Christina manages to sever the thread.

           “Christina,” Ae mumbles softly, only making Christina want to scream even louder. “At least show me how-”

           “Get out.”

           “Listen for a second-”

           “Ae, I’m not kidding. Get out of my warehouse. I’m not showing you anything! Just- can’t you just give him a chance?”

           Ae blinks, arms falling to her sides as she laughs softly. “You think that’s what this is about? You couldn’t be more wrong.”

           “Enlighten me, then.”

           “I can’t do it, Christina. I can’t stand to live in his shadow for the rest of my life. That’s the only reason they were going to hire me! I didn’t-” Ae stops, rubbing her face angrily. “I didn’t even get to finish my interview. Once I was labeled as Taehyung’s soulmate, it’s like nothing even mattered anymore.”

           Christina doesn’t quite know what to say to that, but she knows who does. “Talk to Jolie about it, then. She can help you, she went through the same thing.”

           It should be an easy fix, right?

           “Jolie, like Jimin’s soulmate?”

           “I’ll call her right now, if you want. She knows better than anyone how to deal with this. Chung-hei, too.”

           Ae hesitates. “That’s Namjoon’s?”

           Christina arches a brow, about to say something snarky about labels, but deciding against it at the last moment. “Yeah. Just talk to them before you do anything drastic, ok?”

           Once Ae agrees, Christina is pulling her phone out and sending a message to her group chat with Sunmi, Jolie, and Chung-hei. She ignores the sharp pain that goes through her when she sees that the most recent text was from Jolie, teasing her about Taehyung.

Me: I’m sending a new friend over to Jolie’s apartment. It’s an emergency meeting. Can everyone make it?

                       Everyone responds quickly, agreeing to meet up. Sunmi offers to swing by Christina’s apartment to pick her up, which she agrees to.

           When Sunmi’s car pulls up, Christina gestures for Ae to head out.

           “Aren’t you coming with me?” Ae asks. When Christina shakes her head, Ae’s eyes widen. “But, I don’t know any of these people.”

           Christina smiles softly. “They’re going to be like family to you, don’t worry. Now, go. Tell Sunmi that I’ll catch up later.”

           Ae studies Christina’s eyes for a long moment, sensing her lie but heading for the door regardless. However, just before she heads out the door, she turns around to face the solemn girl.

           “You know, Christina…I know that it’s you.”

           Christina’s eyes widen, but she says nothing. Surely she’s mistaken; how would Ae know about her ties to Taehyung? Perhaps she revealed too much by sending her off to Jolie, she should’ve known how obvious that would be-

           “Yours was the first name out of his mouth today, not mine.”

           And with that, Ae strides out of Christina’s apartment, never looking back.

--

Eight Months Prior (the day Ae and Taehyung met)

Taehyung’s hands are shaking as he slams the door behind him and rushes to the sink, crashing into it. He pants at his reflection, bringing one of those shaking hands up to brush the hair from his eyes but freezes when he notices the red thread dangling from his left hand.

           “Hello, my name is Ae, and I’m interviewing for the camera director position.”

           Taehyung had been slouched in the corner all morning, playing on his phone and wondering why one earth Christina had practically begged him the night before to go to the interviews. However, when he heard that voice…

           “Wait,” he pokes his head up and looks toward the center of the room. His eyes met wide ones, the girl in question freezing in her place as Taehyung sat up to get a better view. “Do I know you?”

           “N-no,” Ae jumps a little, looking apprehensive and automatically sliding her left hand behind her back. It’s that movement that alerts Taehyung to the life-changing knowledge that his soulmate is a mere few feet away from him.

           The rest is a blur.

           People cheered – cheered – when they made the connection, some staff member giving Taehyung a hearty pat on the back that propelled him toward Ae. Something shouted something about giving the couple some space, while another made a remark about Ae obviously getting the job.

           “Her soulmate is Kim Taehyung,” they mumbled with a smile. “Of course she’s gonna get the job. How dreamy is that? Getting to work with your soulmate!”

           Taehyung was so engrossed in his own thoughts that he didn’t notice the way Ae flinched at the staff member’s comment. Instead, he stood there like a fool as Ae kept her eyes on the ground, fiddling with a loose thread on her sweater.

           It was only when the room fell eerily silent that Taehyung realized everyone had left, leaving him alone with his supposed soulmate.

           “I’m so sorry,” Ae began, daring a quick glance up at Taehyung. “I didn’t realize you’d be in here today, I would have rescheduled-“

           “Wait, what?” Taehyung frowns, his voice raspy. “You knew?”

           As his soulmate studies his expression, he hates how she sees right through him. This beautiful stranger already knows more about him than his most loyal friends do.

           Because Ae rises from her seat, crossing her arms and offering Taehyung a soft smile. A sad smile, that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

           “Don’t worry Taehyung,” she mumbles. “I’ll take care of everything.”

           His blood runs cold when he realizes what she means

           “Christina.”

           When he stumbles out of the room a few moments later, the only thing on his mind is talking to Christina. He nearly drops his phone in the effort, but he finally manages to get her contact information up.

           As he listens it ring, he wonders what exactly he wants from this phone call.

           To beg her forgiveness?

           Or to beg her to run away with him?

           In the end, she doesn’t answer. Four missed phone calls and six increasingly desperate texts later, Taehyung bursts into the nearest room he can find. And it’s now, standing in the bathroom on the main floor of the Hybe building, that Taehyung tries to call someone else.

           “Hello?”

           “Jiminie…”

           “Tae? What’s up?”

           “Jimin, I-” Taehyung closes his mouth, staring down at his red thread before speaking again. “I met her.”

           “You met…who?”

           Taehyung’s pretty sure he can hear Jolie in the background of the call, and it makes Taehyung’s heart clench. His mouth runs on with his thoughts, forgetting that Jimin has no idea what he’s talking about.

           “This can’t be happening,” he mumbles, running a hand through his unruly hair. “Why is this happening?”

           “Tae, where are you?”

           Taehyung can hardly hear him anymore, stuck staring at his reflection in the mirror and replaying the day over and over. Angry at himself for being so foolish, for the eternal track that his mind keeps running. No matter how he reads it, he always comes back to the same conclusion. The same question.

           “How could she do this to me?”

--

           When Taehyung left the room in a flurry of nerves and shock, Ae remained behind. Still in shock from the whole encounter, still wondering if she was supposed to finish up her interview.

           She wished that she would have snuck out before the staff started coming back in.

           “How are you feeling?” One staff in particular asked. She was a part of the board that was conducting interviews, her name was Lia. She appeared to be bouncing on the balls of her feet, staring at Ae as though she were an ancient artifact that had recently been uncovered. “Can you believe it?”

           Ae smiled softly, fighting the uneasy feeling in her gut. “Er…no. Not really.”

           At her words, the rest of the staff giggle and start chatting amongst themselves, throwing out the occasional question that Ae hardly has time to answer before another one comes. She finally clears her throat, glancing at Lia expectantly.

           “So, uh…” she shakes her head, trying to sound more professional. “Do we need to carry on with the interview now?”

           Everyone stares at her for a moment before Lia promptly bursts out laughing. “Oh, sweetheart,” she croons, reaching out and patting Ae’s head. “I mean, if you want to, we can finish it. But you know you’ve got the job, right?”

           At this news Ae perks up. “Wait, really? I didn’t know-”

           “Your soulmate is literally Kim Taehyung,” another staff member pipes up from the back. “How could you not?”

           As everyone shares knowing smiles, Ae remains frozen to her seat. “I- you mean…” she trails off, and Lia tilts her head quizzically. “Not to sound ungrateful, but…say Taehyung wasn’t my soulmate. Would I still get the job?”

           To Lia’s credit, she tries to look serious about considering the question. However, Ae sees all that she needs to see is that moment of hesitation. And when Lia opens to mouth to say, “Of course,” Ae slowly rises from her seat and excuses herself from the room.

           That was the beginning of the end.

Later that night

Someone is pounding on the door. With a heavy sigh and tear-swollen eyes, Christina pads her way up to her front room. She stares at the front door, flinching when the knocking resumes.

           “What?” She yells out, annoyance clear in her tone. The response on the other side of the door is muffled, but rings loud and clear through Christina’s ears.

           “Christina, I swear if you don’t open this door right now-”

           With her heart in her throat, Christina yanks the front door open, causing the annoying nuisance of a person to stumble inside, gasping. Once they gain their balance, Christina hurries to shut the door behind them, cursing under her breath at how freezing it is outside.

           Her visitor tries and fails to hide his shivers, and he pants and pushes his mop of hair back. Water drips from his clothes, pooling on the floor and seeping into the rug. However, Christina can’t find the words to properly reprimand him as he straightens up and levels her with a piercing stare.  

           “Now,” Taehyung breathes out, jaw clenched. “Care to explain all of this?” He desperately points to the red thread hanging from his left hand, a testament to his soulmate on the other side of it.

           “No. Not really.”

           Taehyung’s eyes flash at Christina’s off-hand attitude, something white-hot coursing through him as she goes to reach for the door. No doubt to kick him out.

           He won’t have it, though. In an instant he’s grabbed Christina’s shoulders, halting her in her movement and turning her about to face him completely. For some reason he’s panting again, and as Christina looks up at him through her lashes, he swallows heavily.  

           Hands falling to his sides, Taehyung clenches and unclenches his jaw. Christina remains silent before him, staring up at him as though daring him to speak. To say something stupid and making everything somehow worse than it already is.

           “Don’t-” the word gets caught in his throat, ���don’t shut me out.” Taehyung closes his eyes, squeezes them shut for a long moment before opening them again and chancing a step forward. “Don’t leave me.”

           Christina knows she should step away, open the door, and kick Taehyung out into the rain again. Make him leave, make him call Ae. Send him over to Jolie’s apartment, where his soulmate is no doubt coming to see that cutting the thread isn’t the best choice.

           But she doesn’t move. Caught in those endless irises, holding her in her spot.

           And to think, just yesterday they were joking around. Comfortable. Happy.

           “I don’t want to hope.”

           The words tumble out of Christina’s mouth without her consent, however once she starts speaking, the words just won’t stop.

           “Please don’t do this to me, Tae. Taehyung. I can’t be the reason everyone’s lives fall apart. I already ruined my own life, isn’t that enough? You don’t want me-”

           “Why wouldn’t I want you?” He asks, deathly quiet.

           Christina can’t stand the way he’s looking at her. Like he’d gladly give it all up – give his soulmate up – just to spend a little longer here with her. So despite the horrible wrongness of her words, she spits them out anyway in an effort to wipe that look from his face.

           “You don’t want somebody’s leftovers, Taehyung.”

           Taehyung jolts as though someone slapped him, mouth dropping at her words. His eyes glance down at her severed thread, the same one she’d held up a mere week ago when they’d sat together on the balcony of his apartment.

           It had been with hushed tones that Christina finally told Taehyung her whole story. How she ran from her soulmate, desperate to find any way to cut her thread. And Taehyung had silently listened, holding her when it all became too much.

           Now, those hushed tones have dagger-like tendencies. Now Christina wields the truth against herself, trying to sabotage whatever this is between them before it’s too late.

           Taehyung doesn’t have it in him to inform her that it already is too late.

           It’s been too late for a while now. He’s in too deep.

           “Christina,” he breathes. His eyes are so dangerous, flashing with a moment’s anger as he thinks on what her words entail. “Do you really think that?”

           “It doesn’t matter what I think-”

           “Yes, it does!” Taehyung shouts now, and Christina realizes that she’s somehow managed to break down those walls. He was angry to begin with, so it didn’t take too much to stoke that flame again. “Of course it does, how can you even say that about yourself?”

           “Taehyung, I’ve already accepted that this is how it’s going to be. Can’t you just be happy?”

           “Be happy? Did you seriously just ask me to be happy?”

           “Yes! No go find your soulmate and be happy with her!”

           “NO!”

           Christina jumps as Taehyung’s voice echoes through her small apartment, hand jumping up to where her heart beats madly against her chest. Taehyung huffs in front of her, eyes wild as he struggles to explain.

           “How dare you throw this away?” Taehyung takes another step forward, boxing her in as her legs press against the back of her couch. “How dare pretend like I haven’t been happy this entire time, with you? Did that…weren’t you happy?”

           Yes.

           “Please leave.”

           Taehyung’s breathing falters, suddenly more labored as he blinks rapidly. It’s only later that Christina will realize that he was blinking away tears. Tears of frustration, sadness, she’s not sure.

           “Please,” she whispers, squeezing her eyes shut and dropping her head in her hands. “Please don’t make me the villain. Make it work, Tae. Just…try. For Ae.”

           If Christina lifted her head to look at Taehyung, she would have seen him furiously wiping away a stray tear, shaking his head.

           “But I don’t love Ae.”

           Christina curls in on herself even more, silently begging him to not finish that thought. I love you.

           Because he does. Or at least, he thinks he does.

           But Christina knows that she loves him. She has for months now. And this is the best way to love him.

           Give him the best shot she can at true love.

           “You will.”

           Christina swears she can feel Taehyung ghost a hand over her hair before thinking better of it. He stays for a while longer, breathing ragged and a million thoughts running through his mind.

           Christina doesn’t dare look at him, still hiding her head in her hands.

           “Christina…” Taehyung finally whispers. Even his quiet voice sounds too loud in her head. “Look at me. Please, look at me.”

           She does after a few shaky breaths, willing herself to shut down her emotions as she drags her eyes up to meet Taehyung’s.

           His eyes say everything, and it’s too much.

           I love you, she cries out in her mind, eyes shuttering.

           “Thank you, for making me feel wanted,” she says instead.

           “Stop speaking in past tense,” Taehyung warns. Christina scoffs quietly, dropping her eyes once more.

           “Go. Ae is at Jolie’s apartment still, I think. She needs to talk some things out with you.”

           “But Christina-”

           “Kim Taehyung, she’s your soulmate. I am not. Now quit complicating that and leave.”

           He does, no longer able to deny her wishes. As idiotic as he thinks they are.

           And he hates every step that carries him away.

Present Day (8 months later)

Groaning and yawning, Christina makes her way to the front room before promptly collapsing on the couch. She grabs the bag of goldfish she left earlier, popping a few in her mouth as she flips the TV on and begins flipping through the channels. She stops when she spots a familiar face.

           “Tonight we’re discussing what could be the beginning of a new trend regarding soulmates, what some are referring to as the Kim Rebellion. Of course, this is a nod to Kim Taehyung of BTS, as he and his soulmate mutually decided to go their separate ways seven months ago. We go now to Lee Heesun for more details. Heesun?”

           The screen switches to show a grim looking reporter standing outside of the Hybe building, a few people scurrying past him.

           “That’s right, the Kim Rebellion has reached new heights this week as just this morning Paik Ae had an exclusive interview with Dispatch, outlining her reasons for parting ways with her world-famous soulmate.”

           A clip of the interview pops up, showing a smiling Ae and the sight that threw the world into a tailspin after having just recovered from Jimin and Jolie’s drama.

           A severed red thread hangs from Ae’s left hand. She pays it no mind, kindly answering the questions thrown at her and maintaining an easy smile. Christina watches in awe as she speaks, wondering how she could be so brave.

           “Do you regret it?” The interviewer asks, and Ae looks as though she was prepared for the question.

           “I don’t regret walking away, just like how I could never regret getting to meet my soulmate.” She finally glances down at her thread, twisting the end around her fingers. “You know, this isn’t for everybody. However, Taehyung understood my need to distance myself from him. He casts a big shadow,” she chuckles knowingly. “I mean, I’m always going to be associated with him. That’s fine. But…I want people to know that it’s ok to create your own destiny.”

           And create it she has. In the span of the past eight months, Ae has done what Christina had always dreamed of.

           Opening up the door for multiple soulmates to step away from potentially or actually dangerous relationships. Opening up the conversation for those isolated from society for not quite fitting the soulmate mold.

           Normalizing severed threads, one day at a time.

Christina has even been able to make her business more known due to Ae’s efforts. No longer in fear of the stigma against people like her. Because after all, Kim Taehyung of BTS now sports a severed thread, of his and his soulmate’s own free will and choice.  

           So when seven months ago Ae and Taehyung went live to explain that they had no intentions of being together in any capacity, Christina chose to throw herself into her work. Diving in, being too busy to allow herself to wonder where that left her, exactly.

           Don’t make me the villain, she had pleaded all those months ago. Taehyung was smart, he knew that bringing Christina into the light so soon after parting with Ae would lead to people getting the wrong idea.

           Or was it the right one?

           Bzzzz!

           Christina’s train of thought is derailed as a text comes through, from Jolie.

           Jolie loml: hey do you need a ride to your meeting tonight? Sunmi said she could drive you if you wanted

                       Jumping up from the couch, Christina scrambles to grab her shoes. Checking the time, she realizes that she should be able to arrive in time for her meeting if she takes the bus.

           Me: nope, already left! Thanks though!

           Jolie loml: let me know how it goes!! Love youuu

           Me: ugh, so loving and supportive.

           Cracking a small grin at the thought of Jolie’s reaction to her text, Christina runs out the door and toward the bus stop. “This better be worth the humiliation,” she mumbles.

--

           “Hello, my name is Christina, and I…”

           “Take your time, Christina.”

           She takes a deep breath, keeping her eyes on the floor even as all eyes around the circle are on her. “I cut my thread because my soulmate…he wasn’t a good man.”

           Another deep breath.

           “And I think I may have ruined a lot of other people’s relationships.”

           Kim Taehyung, Kim Taehyung, Kim Taeh-

           “Welcome, Christina. Can we all say hello to our new friend?”

           An array of different voices pipe up, some shy and others more confident. “Hello, Christina.”

           “Hi,” she whispers to the ground.

           “Now,” the facilitator begins with a gentle smile. “What makes you think that you’ve ruined other people’s relationships?”

           Christina chews on her bottom lip for a moment before venturing an answer. “Because I work as a Severer.”

           The silence carries on for a touch too long, and Christina glances up to see a couple of the people around the circle looking at her with wide eyes. There’s one girl in particular that glares outright at her, and Christina notes the cut thread that she sports on her left hand.

           No doubt she’s blaming Christina for her current predicament.

           “Ok,” the facilitator – what’s her name? If she squints, Christina can just see the beginnings of her name tag. Mrs. G? Mrs. G regains her gentle smile, urging Christina to go on. “You’re not the first Severer to join our group. Josh was one, remember?” There’s a few scattered nods. A couple of people even go so far as to smile fondly at the mention of Josh, giving Christina reason to hope that they might not all hate her for her occupation.

           “And what happened to Josh?”

           “Oh, well he moved a couple of months ago. He’s actually getting married, his invitation is on the fridge. You’ll have to look at it before you leave.”

           Christina’s eyes widen at this. “He’s getting…he’s getting married? People like us can do that?”

           Mrs. G laughs at Christina’s incredulous tone, but reassures her instantly. “Of course, Christina. We all deserve our own happiness, don’t we? Now be honest, have you had any mal-intent in your line of work?”

           “Well, no…”

           “Exactly. So, ‘people like you’, as you stated, deserve just as much happiness as the rest of us.” Mrs. G pauses, waiting to see if the words settle into Christina’s heart before continuing. “Happiness isn’t something pre-determined. You find it. You make it.”

           The meeting continues, other people sharing their stories and their progress. Christina listens intently, interested to see a couple of other people that had cut their own thread. One boy in particular piques her interest.

           “I’m a part of the Kim Rebellion,” he explains. “Paik Ae really inspired me, you know? Not a lot of people would turn away from someone like Kim Taehyung, but she really seems happy. I had been with my soulmate for two years, but I was never…I don’t know, I never quite felt like I belonged. Turns out, when I brought it up with them, they felt the same way. So we decided to take the leap, go thread-less.”

           “And how has your journey been so far?” Mrs. G asks, sporting a grin.

           “Amazing,” the boy breathes, with stars in his eyes. “I’ve never felt so free before.”

           Before she knows it, the meeting is concluding and people begin to stack their chairs. Christina stands up to follow suit, but Mrs. G stops her with a hand on her arm.

           “I’ll take care of it, darling. It looks like you have a visitor waiting for you.”

           Turning, Christina cranes her neck to see a familiar mop of black hair just outside the rectangular window of the door, quickly followed by a pair of curious eyes that widen as they notice Christina’s attention.

           “I- excuse me,” Christina stammers out, scurrying over to the door. The moment she opens it, Taehyung jumps back, looking a little sheepish at having been caught.

           “What-” Christina can’t quite get the words out, just shocked to even see this man at all. It’s been…how long has it been? “What are you doing here?”

           Taehyung doesn’t say anything, he’s caught up in that thing he does. Where he goes inside his thoughts, forgetting to respond. Christina sighs, rubbing her face and brushing past him.

           This snaps him out of it, and soon enough Taehyung is jogging to catch up to Christina, jumping in front of her.

           He doesn’t touch her. No, he feels like he shouldn’t just assume that he could ever touch her, let alone now.

           “How did you know…?” Christina finally asks before he can say anything.

           “Jolie.”

           Ah, of course. The recovery group was her idea, actually. To be honest, Christina had vowed to never go back to another recovery group after she went to the one right after she fled her soulmate.

           But here she is. Back again.

           She’s not sure who to blame, anymore. The man in front of her, his soulmate…herself.

           “Christina.”

           “Hmm?”

           Taehyung runs a hand through his hair, looking nervous. “Could we maybe…can I give you a ride home?”

           Christina doesn’t immediately respond, too stunned as her focus remains on the hand that Taehyung just ruffled his hair with.

           Focused on the cut thread, to be more exact.

           Sure, she’s seen photos and videos of him with it, even seen him from a distance, but up close…it’s so much more real. So final.

           “Christina?”

           “Oh. Yeah, yeah that’s fine.”

           Taehyung blinks, clearly not expecting it to be so easy. However, he leads her out of the building without another word, opening up the passenger side door with a nervous smile.

           Christina settles down in the seat with a blank expression, half wondering if this is even real. However, as Taehyung closes the door and she’s met with just how much everything in here is him. The smell alone is enough to have her inhaling deeply, bombarding her sense with the very thing she’s been trying to run from for months now.

           Taehyung hops in the driver’s side, and Christina politely ignores the way his hands shake as he tries to start the car. The silence is heavy as they pull out of the parking lot, and Christina stares out the window as they drive.

           In the reflection of the passenger-side window, she can see Taehyung glancing over at her every so often. Finally, after the tenth time, he speaks.

           “How have you been? I haven’t seen you in forever, feels like.”

           “Yeah, how long has it been?”

           Taehyung doesn’t skip a beat. “Namjoon’s birthday party. Although you were leaving right as I was arriving, remember?”

           “Oh. Right.”

           Again the silence. It’s suffocating, making Christina want to scream.

           “So…” she mumbles out, staring straight ahead. “How have you been?”

           “Oh, good. Been…good.”

           Perhaps it’s the fact that she has nothing left to lose, but Christina finds herself sliding into her teasing persona at his response.

           “Wow, so eloquent.”

           Taehyung blinks before smirking, easing into the conversation as well. “I’ve always had a way with words, don’t you think?”

           “I couldn’t disagree more.”

           The sound of his chuckle fills the small space, and it lodges in Christina’s heart. It becomes a struggle to keep her eyes forward, a part of her begging her to just get lost in this moment.

           Because what if it’s their last?

           And yet…

           What if it’s the first?

           All too soon, they’re parking in front of her apartment, and Christina offers him a small smile of thanks before opening her door. She yelps in surprise when Taehyung reaches across her torso and closes her door.

           “What was that for?” She asks, offended. Turning to Taehyung, she can’t help but feel a little intimidated as he regards her solemnly.

           He unbuckles his seatbelt and turns to face her fully, one arm resting on the wheel while the other rests on the console.

           He looks so honest, in this moment. Hair a mess, a small stain on his trademark Celine shirt. Christina notices it with a start, recalling the fact that he’s wearing that very shirt in the photo she keep atop her dresser.

           It’s still there. After all these months.

           “Hey,” Taehyung whispers. Christina’s eyes snap up to his face instead of the stain on his shirt. His tongue wets his lips before he speaks again, continuing to whisper. “I’m happy right now. Are you?”

           That red thread whips and twists from the A/C, and Christina takes a moment to look at her own.

           “How did you do it?”

           Taehyung understands her question, following her line of sight. He sighs softly, recalling the day he and Ae took matters into their own hands and singlehandedly started their own rebellion.

           “Some guy in Daegu. Josh, was his name.”

           Christina’s head snaps up. “Josh? He’s getting married!”

           “O-oh, ok,” Taehyung stammers out, chuckling a little. “Good for him.”

           “Sorry.”

           “You’re fine. I’m happy for Josh.”

           “Yeah. Me too.”

           Another pause. This one isn’t as uncomfortable as the previous ones, though.

           “Christina? You never answered my question.”

           Are you happy right now? Here, with me?

           “Yeah, but-”

           “No buts.”

           Christina groans, leaning back in her seat. “Taehyung, you can’t just drive me home and start going on about happiness and end up with us being together. You know that, right?”

           Taehyung chews on his bottom lip with almost religious fervor. “…I know.”

           “Maybe I should go.”

           “Wait!” Taehyung reaches out again, ready to block Christina’s exit. “I had this whole speech I needed to say to you and- and- quit looking at me like that, otherwise I’m gonna forget it!”

           Christina laughs, holding her hands up innocently. “Sorry, sorry! Let’s hear it!”

           Taehyung sighs, closing his eyes.

           “You’re my choice.”

           After a few moments of silence, Christina frowns. “That’s it?”

           Taehyung’s eyes fly open, a curl curling the corners of his lips. “No! Hold on, let me explain.” Once he sees Christina waiting patiently, he continues. “You and I…we’ve never been given a real choice before. Our decisions were made up, with our soulmates. But you…you broke away from that. Created your own path. You inspired me, still do inspire me, every day. To make my own path.”

           Christina holds her breath, not daring to say anything.

           “Any while your circumstances were much worse than mine, and I’m grateful every day that you were able to escape that sorry excuse for a man, I know this is for certain: we’ve forged our own paths, and for the first time, we’ve been given a choice. I choose you. I chose you months ago, Christina.”

           Taehyung’s hand wraps around the steering wheel until his knuckles are white. “Please, tell me you choose me, too.”

           Christina wonders for the hundredth time if this is all real.

           For the first time in her life, is she really able to choose love? If Taehyung’s hopeful gaze is any indication, she must be.

           “Is this ok?” She whispers.

           “Is what ok, darling?”

           The pet name goes straight into her bloodstream, making her feel lightheaded. “Is it ok to get you?”

           Taehyung smiles broadly at her question, slowly reaching out and brushing a strand of hair back behind her ear.

           “Of course it is. You’ve got me, either way.” He sighs. “As much as I’ve been furious with you over the past eight months-”

           “What do you mean, furious?”

           “You led me into a trap to meet my soulmate!” Taehyung exclaims, looking at Christina fondly. “And then avoided me for like eight months after that!”

           “Ok, at least give me credit for being a good person-”

           “Oh, you’re a saint,” Taehyung groans out, finally throwing his door open and rushing around the car to the passenger side. Once he opens that door as well, he crouches down to be eye-level with a wide-eyed Christina. “You’re a certified saint, happy?”

           Despite the sarcasm dripping from his tone, Christina senses the real question behind it. Slowly, she reaches out to touch the stain on his shirt, making a blush rise to Taehyung’s cheeks.

           “Yes.” She gives him a shaky smile. “Extremely.”

           Taehyung’s smile only grows as he takes the hand that rests against his shirt, raising his up to place gentle kisses along the tips of her fingers. Christina’s breath catches at the sight, Taehyung’s dark eyes fluttering closed.

           “Let me walk you to your door,” he mumbles.

           Christina complies, thrilling in the feel of his hand in hers as they walk to the door. Once there, she chews on the inside of her cheek. “Want to come in?”

           Taehyung gasps, and Christina throws a hand over his mouth at his over the top reaction.

           “Not like that, you pervert! We just have a lot to talk about still!”            Taehyung grabs her wrist, pulling her hand away. “And you just don’t want me to leave yet, right?”

           “Oh, shut up.”

           Once they head inside, Christina heads straight for the kitchen while Taehyung takes a seat on the stool. Filling up a glass of cool apple cider, Christina passes it to him before leaning back against the counter and drinking in the view.

           “You know,” she starts, taking a swig of the sweet drink before continuing. “I’ve had a lot of people sit there. Drink cider, talk about their problems.”

           “Oh really?”

           “Yeah, like Jolie. And Ae.”

           “Now me.”

           “Now you.” Christina sighs, setting her glass down. “You want the truth?”

           Taehyung looks intrigued, also setting his glass down. “Always.”

           “I’ve been waiting for you to sit there.” She’s surprised when her vision blurs with tears, not expecting to be so emotional about it. “I didn’t think you ever would, though.”

           In an instant, Taehyung is on his feet and wrapping her into a tight embrace. As she breathes him in, Christina wonders if this is what Jolie meant when she described how Jimin felt like home.

           “I’ll be sitting there until my butt falls off.”

           Chest shaking with laughter at his own comment, Christina groans but doesn’t try to move away. Instead she wraps her arms around his middle, holding him even tighter.

           “Gross, but thank you.”

           Lips pressing a gentle kiss atop her head, Christina can feel Taehyung smile against her hair. “Anything for you, darling.”

--

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[joshstambourine]

Greta Van Fleet as Dad's

Haven't been able to un-see this idea since it showed up on my dash and uggggh. I couldn't get over how cute all of this was.

For this imagine, I'm sort of picturing them with younger children, anywhere from 3-5 years old as they are all still crazy young hehe. Also. All of these imagines work with any gender of child. It's all sorta just what I imagine them having and being like in general 🖤

Taglist: @anditsmywholeheart

JOSH

Josh is such an interesting guy. He is both so deeply smart... but also at the same time he is the equivalent of a conversation between my last two brain cells.

The sheer amount of energy this man has means he'll not only keep up with a kid but also tire them tf out.

There would always be so much screaming and laughing in the house.

Lots of games of tag and the floor is lava

No matter what he has, son or daughter --- there will be so much dancing. Josh would be the kind of dad who loves to hold his kid and just dance around the house with them.

Not to mention all of the goofy songs they would be singing together.

I can see Josh conversing with his kids like adults even when they are little. Meaning there will be some very serious conversations about very silly things. Potato chips can make you a fly? On it. The floor is both lava and also the arctic? Josh is ready to hear all about how that's possible. There aren't mermaids but there are human sharks? Josh needs to know where he can find them asap.

I can very easily imagine him dressed up and sitting at a table that is far too small for him with his legs crossed.

His daughter would have started by putting one necklace on him and it soon escalated to a crown, sunglasses that didn't fit, and a set of fairy wings. Surrounded by many stuffed animals and dolls.

"Mmm, this is great tea! What kind is it?"

"Grape."

He'd look at his tiny tea cup filled with apple juice. "Huh I could have sworn it was Apple. Did you change it on me?"

She would shake her head, "No daddy! We already drank the apple tea!" She'd laugh.

"What?? You drank all the apple tea without me?!" He'd exclaim, "why did you drink all the apple tea with out me?"

Josh would inch over and begin to tickle her, just loving to hear her laugh really.

"Daddy! Daddy no! You can't tickle me, I'm the princess!!"

Jake

Jake immediately strikes me as such a chill laid back dad. The kind of cool dad you'd definitely want during your teenage years.

He'd be the kind of dad to sit and watch cartoons religiously with his kid, there's no way he'd be missing them. Doesn't matter if it's cool or comedy gold, if his little one loves it they're gonna watch it together.

I think Jake would really want to teach his kid how to play guitar. It's something he's so passionate about that I think it would bring him a lot of joy if his kid had at least the knowledge of techniques and things, even if they weren't a huge fan of playing themselves.

Jake as well strikes me as someone who would be psyched about making dad jokes, of course with a straight face.

That is just a long winded way of saying that as a very young child this kid would know more about music than I do now after 20 years of living on this planet.

"What did the Buffalo say to his little boy when he dropped him off at school?"

"Bison!"

For a gender of a kid I'm split right in the middle when it comes to Jake. I think either would be equally as adorable but for this imagine I'm going with a girl to keep things even.

With a little girl I can imagine him sitting quietly as he watches her tiny hands try their best to paint his nails cleanly.

There is pink nail polish everywhere. Everything is a mess. Everything smells of chemicals. But it's fine.

"After I do your nails can I braid your hair too?" She'd eagerly ask, not looking at his hands anymore but she is still trying to paint.

"But your show is going to be on soon...! I thought we were gonna cuddle?"

"....can I braid your hair and watch my show?"

Jake would look at her seriously before smiling, moving quickly to give her a small kiss on the cheek, "of course you can, only if you give me lots of cuddles after."

"Okay daddy!"

*insert a child who is only half heartedly braiding hair while fully enthralled in their show. Head tilted on a 45° angle to see the TV with half of Jake's hair in a frizzy mangled braid.*

Sam

I really think Sam would want his kids to listen to really good music from a young age.

I mean don't get me wrong I think all of the boys would be like this... but I see him being the kind of parent that buys into the "smarter babies listened to music in important development periods"

The ultimate "my kid is so smart" kind of parent that then shows you 20 drawings that don't look like anything, but clearly they look like something to him.

All those drawings get tucked away somewhere safe so he can go back and look at them proudly as his little one grows up.

"Maybe they'll be an artist?!"

He also strikes me as a parent who wants to be really involved in teaching his kid things. ABC's? Sam's baby has them locked and loaded. Numbers 1-20? Still has trouble remembering anything with a nine but we are working on it.

Ultimate joy is achieved when Sam gets to teach his little one how to ride a bike. He feeling like its a right of passage for every kid to have with their dad.

I pictured Sam sitting with his little boy at the kitchen table, puzzle pieces sprawled all over.

"Dad, I have a joke for you." He'd say as he fiddled with a piece.

"Oh yeah? Go for it buddy." Sam would reply as he connects another edge piece.

"Knock knock!"

"Whose there?"

"Banana!"

"Banana who?"

"The Banana man!" Snickering coming from across the table, hands banging on the table and nearly knocking several pieces off the table.

Sam would laugh a long, "Y'know I've never heard that version of that joke---"

"Dad I'm not done"

"Oh I'm sorry, continue." He'd say beginning to look for a few more pieces to go together.

"Knock knock!"

"Whose there?"

"Banana!"

"Banana who...?" Sam would respond slowly, prepared for the same poorly created joke.

"TWO BANANA MEN!"

Sam would have to lay on the table. It was such a freaking terrible joke but so funny to see the amount of joy it brought the little boys features. "You have to tell that one to mom, okay?"

Danny

Danny is such a loving guy in general, I feel like parenting for him would just be so easy. Not saying that there wouldn't be troubled times--- just that he's just one of those people that were born to parent.

The very dependable parent. Always going to make time for any small thing his little one needs.

Danny is going to encourage his kid to do whatever they love with all of his being.

"You like rocks? We should get a rock polisher."

"You're right these cookies are pretty good, maybe we should get the stuff we need to bake them together."

He is going to have a series or specific book he reads to his little one until they fall asleep. Its something he would refuse to miss, they have to do their chapter! Even if he's on tour somewhere he's going to call home to make sure they can read together.

Danny is over the moon to have a little golfing buddy. As soon as this kid could walk he bought them their own set of clubs so they could play along with him. He just couldn't wait to start teaching them.

Golf time is bonding time. They'd get to walk together and talk about anything and everything.

I've been crazy torn about whether to write about him with a son or a daughter, both are equally as cute. For the sake of evenness though I decided on a boy.

"Okay so for your driver buddy you need to hold your arms waaay out." Danny would tell his son holding his arms out.

"Like this?"

"A little more."

Little eyes look to Danny curiously as his arms become fully extended from his body.

"Perfect! Make sure you stand straight, and keep your eyes on the ball." He says with his hand on the middle of the boys back, "And then you just---"

"SWING!"

Danny nearly getting clocked in the head with a golf club but leans back just in time. The satisfying ting of the little one's club hitting the ball sounds,

"DID YOU SEE HOW FAR IT WENT DAD?!"

*Insert the face Danny made when he pretended Sam's margarita's were good*

~ If anyone wants a full fic written for one of these please let me know because I will 100% write out fluffy family fics without hesitation!! ~

[pedro-pascal-love]

The Past

Chapter Four of Well, This is Awkward

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Rating: 18+, NSFW

Word Count: 2k+

Summary: Some things come to light about Reader’s past and Dave is a tease.

Warnings: Language, angst, slow burn, graphic descriptions of sexual acts but no sex (yet!)

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A week. That’s how long you’d had been avoiding Dave at all costs. You made damn sure not to be caught alone with him whenever possible, always having one of the girls there or being out of the house running errands while the girls were at school. As far as you could tell, Dave was avoiding you too. Which you’d admit hurt your pride a little bit, but hey, he was married, so you had no right to be upset.

You’d tried to get your mind off him as much as you could by working on things around the house or helping the girls out with homework, but you could only do that so much before boredom overtook you. Whenever you weren’t busy with the girls or doing errands, you often hung out in your room on your phone or laptop, just scrolling through social media. You’d done your nails several times this week already and had perfected the art of folding your towels five different ways and rearranging your bedroom. Yeah, you weren’t going a little stir crazy at all. Carol was due back from her trip in a week, and you’d hoped to avoid Dave the rest of the time until then, but fate had other ideas.

It started like any other day; you’d gone to drop off the girls at school and then hidden away in your room. Two hours passed before you heard a peep from around the house, and it came in the form of a knock on your door. Your heart stopped; your breath hitched.

“Yes?” You called out, nerves consuming you in anticipation.

“It’s Dave, mind if I come in?” Dave replied through the door. You looked down at your clothes, contemplating if you should change or not. All that preserved your modesty was a pair of yoga pants and a tight-fitting tank top.

Fuck, you thought. You straightened yourself up and took a deep breath, putting a pillow on your lap under your laptop and took in a deep breath.

“Come in,” you stated, bracing yourself for his entry. Dave quickly opened the door, and it took everything in you to remain conscious. How would a man look so good in merely a dress shirt and trousers?! Dave made his way to you and sat on the foot of the bed while you scooted back a little bit more on the bed and propped yourself up against the headboard.

“What can I do for you today, Dave?” You inquired.

“I think you and I need to have a little chat,” Dave replied. You bit your lip.

Fuck, I do not like where this is going.

“What about? Is something wrong?” You replied nonchalantly.

“Yes. You’ve been avoiding me this last week, and I’d like to know why,” Dave stated, cutting right to the chase.

Fuck.

“Oh….Um….Well, you see….” You stammered out, not sure how to answer that without sounding like a complete idiot.

“I mean, I have a few guesses, but I wanted to hear it from you.” You sighed, hearing his words.

Here goes nothing.

“Yeah…..I have sort of been avoiding you, and I’m so sorry if it came off as rude,” you began. “It’s just; I’m not sure how to handle this situation.”

“What? The fact that you and I have fucked, and now you’re my children’s nanny?” Dave blatantly asked. You bit the inside of your cheek at his words, but his words didn’t stop there.

“The fact that I’ve had you bent over, with my cock deep in your soaking wet pussy, letting a stranger fuck you in a public place?” You clenched your thighs at his words, the action not going unnoticed by Dave, as his eyes shifted down to your legs covered up by the pillow. You gulped and nodded,  eyes downcast.

“I see…..Well, I guess I can only assume that you wanted to pretend like that never happened. However,” Dave paused. You lifted your eyes and met his gaze. “What if I don’t want to go on as if nothing happened?” You felt the fire in your soul flare. Were you really hearing his words? Dave got up and moved until he was sitting next to you on the bed, shutting your laptop, setting both the pillow and the computer down next to you.

“See, Princess, I kind of really liked how you felt around me. Feeling the tight walls of your pussy clench around me, milking me for every last drop.” The pet name made you bite your lip and fidget with your hands. You didn’t want to let his words affect you, but they were, and you felt yourself grow hot at the memories. You felt Dave place his hand under your chin and bring your face up to meet his stare. You hadn’t realized how close he was to you until that moment. Should either of you lean forward, just the smallest amount your lip would meet. You inwardly shuddered at the thought.

DAMMIT NO! You scolded yourself.

“Dave, you’re married!” You finally croaked out, snapping your head back so fast it almost hit the headboard. You watched wide-eyed as Dave threw his head back and laughed.

“That didn’t stop you before, baby girl,” he coolly replied. You felt your blood start to boil. He was married, and yet here he was acting like he wasn’t.

“I didn’t know you were married that night,” you shot back, crossing your arms.

“No, but you know now, and I can tell that you still want me,” Dave smirked.

Damn him.

You shook your head, adamant not to fall under his spell, but your willpower was waning.  Dave leaned in close to your ear. “C’mon, sweet girl, you’re going to resist, Daddy?”

“Dave….” you whined, your breath hitching feeling his breath on your ear. Dave smiled and moved your face to capture your lips with his. Heat engulfed your bodies as you moaned into the kiss, grabbing onto his shirt and pulling him closer to you. Dave took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, slipping his tongue into your mouth and battling for dominance. You whined as you felt him bite your lip and then pull away, your lips swelling from the interaction.

“That’s what I thought,” Dave said as he got up and walked out of the room, leaving you hot and bothered.

“Fuck!” You cursed out as you brought your fingers to your lips, feeling the ghost of his kiss. “I am so fucking screwed.”

Dave was annoyed, to say the least. You’d been avoiding him for the last week since your encounter in the hallway, and he’d had enough of it. He’d spent all week watching you on the cameras, watching as you touched yourself when nobody else was home, listening to your little whines and moans. He’d spent all week listening to you pant out his name, and he’d jerked himself off to the image of being there with you. He had begrudgingly given you space this last week and studied you. He wanted to know what made you tick and see if he’d be able to get away with the plans formulating in his mind.

Carol was due back in a week, and he damn well wanted to have you before his wife was back in town, and his chance at more fun would fly out the window. Today he would take what he wanted and tease you, even if it ended up with him getting blue balls in the process. Dave had chosen today when he knew you’d be caught off guard, and boy was he glad he’d done that. Your little make-out session in your bedroom was just the beginning, and he could tell that you’d eventually give in to him. He watched you on the security feed as you laid in bed, annoyed that he’d left so abruptly, and was pleasantly surprised when you picked up your phone to call your friend Melody. Dave got onto his computer and decided to tune in to your little conversation to see what you two were chatting about.

“Hello?” Mel answered.

“Mel, I’m so fucked,” you started. He could hear Mel on the other end of the phone laugh at your words.

“What happened?” she implored.

“Dave…..He…UGH. He needs to stop being so damn sexy!” you proclaimed. Dave smirked at your antics while Mel laughed.

“I mean, he looked fine as hell when you met him; you can’t just turn that kind of sex appeal off,” she replied. You groaned, and he watched on the screen as you slapped your forehead.

“I know! It’s so bad because I want to jump his bones. Like ALL THE TIME,” you said exasperatedly. “And I hate that he’s married, Mel. It’s so fucked. I don’t know how things in their marriage are like, but Carol seems like such a nice woman.” Dave’s ears perked up at the mention of his wife.

I wonder where this is going to go, he thought as he heard you sigh into the phone.

“I know. It’s pretty fucked that he slept with you that night at the bar, but at the same time, that wasn’t your fault. You didn’t know,” she consoled. “For all you know, they might have like an open marriage or some shit like that.”

“Yeah, who the fuck knows, man. But uh, you should probably know something…” You trailed off.

“Did you sleep with him?!” Mel exclaimed through the phone, both sounding concerned but also excited. "Girl, you know I wouldn’t judge you if you did, ‘cause hot damn, I’d love to be in your situation with a hot boss and all, but the whole Carol thing is just weird.”

“No, no, I didn’t sleep with him, but damn do I want to,” you replied with a laugh. “No, he just came into my room a bit ago, and fucking called me out on why I’d been avoiding him. AND THEN THE MOTHERFUCKER KISSED ME!!!” Dave could hear Mel gasp through the phone and then burst into laughter.

“Oh man, what?!”

“Yeah! He came in all serious and then was like, ‘Have you been avoiding me cuz we had sex?’ and he started fucking dirty talking, all like describing how it was when we were at the bar,” you continued.

“OH MY GOD. HOT DAMN GIRL! That’s some fucking Big Dick Energy if I ever,” Mel cackled. Dave shook his head. You girls were too much, and he liked your friend.

“I KNOW! And then he like got all close to me and just - ugh! I even called him out about how he’s married, and you know what he did? He fucking said that he knew I wanted him even after finding out he was married. It’s like he’s a goddamn spy or has eyes watching me or something!” Dave let out a chuckle at your words. Oh, if only you knew how close you were with that statement.

“Oh, man. That’s so hot,” Mel laughed.

“Yeah…But then the son of a bitch went and kissed me!” you said as you threw your head back with a groan. “And Mel, it was so fucking hot. Ugh. It seriously took everything not to rip his clothes off.”

“Oh my god!”

“I KNOW! And then the fucker had to be like ‘That’s what I thought,’ all sexy-like, and then he walked out!” You cried as you flung yourself into your bed while Mel cackled even more over the phone.

“Hot diggity damn, girl. I say you march into his office or room or wherever he is and take what you want. Better yet, tease the fucker back,” Mel suggested. You pondered her statement for a moment and grinned.

“Give him a taste of his own medicine? Fuck, I really should!”

“Do itttttttt,” Mel encouraged. “But you should be careful. Like maybe a little teasing and stuff, but until you figure out what’s going on with him and Carol, don’t cross that line, you know?”

“Yeah, good point. I don’t want to be a homewrecker, but like fuck, he makes it so hard,” you whined.

“I know, chicka, I know. Who knows, maybe he’d leave your wife for you,” she joked. “Wouldn’t that be a twist!” Dave quirked an eyebrow at her words.

I mean fuck, I never had that thought before, but the girls do love her, and we have a lot of chemistry that not even Carol and I had when we first got together, Dave thought to himself.

“Oh my god, Mel. Don’t say that! Dammit, I’m going to Hell,” you groaned out as you laughed.

“It’s ok; I’ll make sure to save you a seat!” “I feel like such a teenager right now, though, dude. Like I don’t know how I’m going to survive.”

“Take it one day at a time, but make sure to keep your head on straight. I’ll support you no matter what, you know that. If you want to pursue things with him and be happy, then go for it. Just make sure that you don’t get hurt in the long run, you know?” Mel said.

“I know, I don’t want to have to deal with another heartbreak. Especially after what happened with Tom,” you breathed into the phone with a sigh. Dave felt a ping in his heart. He knew all about your situation with your ex-boyfriend Tom and how badly that had ended. He knew all about the abuse that you’d been through at the hands of that asshole and had seen the police reports and photos of your battered face. Thankfully Tom was rotting away in prison, but only after he almost killed you. Dave felt his blood boil at the thought of someone hurting you.

“It’s going to be alright, girly,” Mel consoled. “I don’t think Dave is like Tom at all, and Tom is rotting away after what he did to you.”

“Yeah, I know….I’m just scared,” you whispered into the phone. “Anyways, I have to take a shower and run a few errands in a bit, so I’ll let you go.”

“Ok. You be careful, ok? And take care of yourself,” Mel said as you bid each other farewell and hung up. Dave watched you sit in bed for a moment and contemplated going into the room and comforting you but thought better of it.

I’m getting a little in too deep with her.

Shit.

⟸ Previous Chapter ❖ Next Chapter ⟹

[anntidote]

:carton of milk - kageyama tobio

back to: series index || ann’s playground

pairing: kageyama tobio x fem!reader

word count: 2.2k

warnings: timestop!au, TW!!dubcon, smut, angst, pwp, masturbation, blowjob, handjob, deepthroating, does this count as somnophilia(?), mentions of oikawa

summary: the day after the break up, you find yourself confiding in tobio, your reliable underclassmen. he's not good with his words, but he offers you a drink-- and you happen to drink more than he would ever thought you would.

brimming later hours into the night, the moonlight seemed to play peek-a-boo behind the scattered clouds. the slight breeze danced at the hem of your skirt as you're sat outside karasuno's second gym, knees up to your chest, head buried in your arms. the rhythmic sound of the volleyballs ricocheting off the hardwood floors and squeaks of sneakers only seemed to echo in your mind. 

"senpai?" 

you raise your head at the inquiry, only to meet the blue eyed gaze of your underclassmen, and the crinkle of his steps toward you against the dirt. "what're you doing out here? it's late."

you let out a sigh before responding, tilting your head up to avoid his curious stare. "i'm thinking, tobio."

he raised an eyebrow in confusion. "thinking about what?" 

the low hum of the vending machine and wisps of the night air filled the space's silence, as you blankly stare up into the endless black and blue above. "i broke up with him."

kageyama's eyes widen, mouth falling slightly open, staring at you in disbelief, and you almost scoff. "y-you broke up with oikawa-san? why?" 

you unfortunately understood the utter surprise, as any outsider looking at the two of you would've seen it. you knew the way you looked at him was filled with adoration and love. the times he pointed at you after a serve, or the random back hugs he'd give when picking you up from school. 

it was definitely the shameless kissing and proclamations of utter infatuation with each other, that led other people to think love had definitely taken a liking to the two of you. 

but the fact you could recite yesterday's events like the back of your hand- the thought of everything being a lie was more realistic than your fairytale of a relationship. 

you remember the shade of pink that came across her cheeks, and that dark blue of her discarded underwear. you remember the creak of the bed, the melody of moans that tumbled from his lips- the same ones that he swore that only you would ever hear. you remember the string of lies that came from that very same mouth, the ones that failed in attempts of faux reassurance. 

"it's all a misunderstanding!" the disheveled look of after sex hair he sported was a stark contrast in the words he called out after you, grabbing your hand to turn you towards him. you immediately jerk away at his touch, face scrunching in distaste.

"just how is you being balls deep into another girl a misunderstanding, tooru?" 

"y-you were just there at the wrong place and the wrong time! i-"

"what the fuck does that even mean?" you yell back, fists clenched tight. "have you been doing this the entire time we were together?" 

the look of guilt that washed over his face was more than enough to have had made you bawl, but you held back, forcing yourself to hold your head higher. "i hope you're at least half as loyal to that girl than you are to volleyball." your eyes that were once filled with warmth, now cold daggers, as you briskly turned from him, beginning to walk away. "i-if…"

you halted in your steps at the start of his words. "if i could turn back time and fix what i did, i swear i would." 

your heart ached at his broken tone, regret hanging off every word. you wanted to run back into his arms, kiss him and tell him that it was alright. that everything would be alright. "but you can't." 

you don't see how he stares at the shape of your back, and he doesn't see the tears that streamed down your cheeks when you continued. "you can't stop time."

the nerve of that motherfucker. 

"senpai?" 

a snap back to reality hits you when tobio leans forward in worry. "senpai? are you okay?" 

only then do you realize the glassiness in your vision. "oh." hurriedly wiping the edges of your eyes, you give the boy a small smile. "sorry about that." 

he shakes his head, pressing the familiar chime of buttons into the vending machine. "did he do something bad?" 

you fiddle with an object in your hands, watching as he pushes the door open, and stabbing his straw through the carton. "something like that." 

but you felt absolutely pathetic. 

if you didn't break up with tooru, as of right now, you'd be dragging him face first from the seijoh gym after getting a call from iwaizumi. you'd still be looking at him like he was what the world, and you revolved around him. if you were a bit stronger, perhaps you'd still be able to walk over there and give your goodbyes to their volleyball club. 

instead, here you were. sitting outside karasuno's second gym, still wearing one of his old sweaters. the bounce of rubber and screech of shoes only reminds you of the late nights you'd spend watching his practices. you wallowed in what was, and you hated it. 

you know it's not your fault. you understand there was nothing you could have done. yet the voice at the back of you head taunts, and peppers thoughts that aren't yours. 

that maybe if you were a better girlfriend- maybe if you bought a blue set of panties instead. maybe if you smiled a bit more. maybe if you were more-- "here." 

pushing the watch you were messing with into your pocket, you reflexively catch a slightly cold and sweating carton of milk from the underclassmen. "i hope you win." 

you offer him a lopsided grin at the analogy. "you know he can't beat me, tobio." 

he nods promptly, and the crunch of the dirt under his shoes follow as he begins to walk away.

"tobio, do you think i'm…pretty?" 

although his back turned to you, you don't miss the way the tips of his ears immediately flare up. his posture straightening when his pace quickens, after the rushed, polite goodbye he offered you. 

...

the next time you see tobio was an occasion you felt slightly guilty about. 

patrolling the hallways as part of your student council duties, you ended up shooing a clique of boys loitering in front of the bathroom. their excuses played into one ear and out the other when you sent them to their classrooms, earning a couple insults on the way. 

and only when their figures disappear down the hallway do you hear the grunts. the moans. 

your eyes widen, fully knowing the source of the noise, and a shot of heat pools in your gut.

every ounce of responsibility in your body is screaming at you. the full knowledge of other patrollers being far from your position, the understanding that this was definitely wrong for you to be walking into the boy's bathroom, and the fact that this was tobio. the cute, round faced tobio who tagged behind you at kitagawa first. how you always peppered him in compliments after practice, and offering a couple milk candies you'd snuck away from your now, ex. the same doe-eyed tobio, who asked where the gym was. 

that was the same tobio who had his fist wrapped around his angry red cock, tip weeping in precum, and his eyes closed shut in concentration. you quickly placed a hand over your mouth, stopping the surprised noise that came up your throat. you felt disgusting, feeling the way your panties dampened with each stroke of his shaft, clenched thighs, and school slacks pooled at his ankles. how you wished that it was you he was thinking about. how you'd want to slap his hand away and sink his length into you until he cried. "f-fuck…" another groan leaves his lips and your eyes widen. realization hits you.

"if i could turn back time and fix what i did, i would." 

your jaw clenches as you shove your hand in your pocket, and the tentative click of the stopwatch rings out. 

like that, the world halts in place. the wisps of clouds stop their journey guided by the wind. the birds pose against the blue hue of the sky, and the teachers and students alike stop mid lesson. nothing else can be heard except the click of your shoes against the tile of the bathroom floor, pattering towards the setter in question. 

you place a guilty kiss on the crease of his forehead before turning his build towards you, dropping to your knees.

as if you were apologizing. 

you place your smaller hand on top of his own, and the combined stroke of his cock was an absolute sinful sight that made your mouth salivate. you leaned in, taking a tentative lick from midshaft to the tip, and his precum collecting at your tastebuds-- you moan in pure delight. his taste became addictive whence you finally took him into the heat of your mouth, wrapping your lips around him, and taking an innocent look up. 

although face still paused, you still take your time in admiring him. the collar of his military button up popped, a button or so undone, the familiar pout on his face, and tan skin with a light sheen of sweat. 

oh, what you would do to kiss him- to swallow his moans into his throat and ride him in this bathroom. how you wished it was you who he was jerking off to, and that if he wanted to split you in two. the stretch of your lips around him only paled in comparison to what your imagination held for his cock buried in your cunt. 

but this was about him. 

working yourself lower and lower, you finally took all of him. nose pressing against the mound of his abdominals, as you reached over and gripped his thigh. nails slightly digging into the meat of his leg, your air flow constricting and eyes turning foggy when you replay his earlier melody of moans in your head like a broken record. 

you undo a button of two of your blouse, your chest slightly peeking out- simply because it was just too fucking hot. the flush and suction of your cheeks against the heat of his dick seeming like the only thing in the world that mattered. 

this was for all the times he'd stayed by your side. for all the times he'd offered you a shoulder to lean on, and an ear to listen. for all the times he'd put up with your ex's envy antics, and for last night. 

you wanted him to remember your gratitude. 

life resumed, and for a split second, tobio swore he saw you. 

glassy eyes, your nose pressed against his abdominals. the way your throat convulsed as you choked around him. his length hitting the back of your throat, and how everything was suddenly so hot, wet, slick and sticky. the way your breasts peeked out from under your shirt, and several strands of baby hair sticking to your forehead. how you stared back at him with such want. such eagerness.

as if you wanted him too. 

it was too much. it was overwhelming when witnessing the sight of you gagging sand struggling to take him, forcing him face first into an orgasm. cumming spurts out over the urinal with his fist clenched around himself, thighs shaking and the heavy pants of his breath. he let out a pornographic moan in the school bathroom-- eyes blinking in utter relief yet confusion. 

even though it was a mere flash of an image, he swore it was you… 

but where did you go? 

he would never know how, or why you briefly resumed the timeline like that. he would never know that you did it out of pure selfishness. no matter how many times you wanted to convince yourself that it was a gift for him. 

he wouldn't notice the press of your legs together when you spotted him on his next excursion at the vending machine. he wouldn't notice how you seemed to know why he got so flustered over the most pure of interactions throughout the rest of the week. 

the way you sucked at your straw at lunch, and licking the remnants of milk from around your lips. you seemed to giggle louder than before, and it made his heart do something strange. 

"you want a sip, tobio?" your question catches him off guard as he coughs, before shaking his head. "ah n-no, i'm alright." both of you settle in comfortable silence, except for the occasional sip or chew of snacks.

 things began to dial down, as your heart began to heal. ever so slowly, the cracks of your heart being filled with moments like these. 

"senpai?" kageyama suddenly calls out. 

"yes tobio?" you looked over at his slouched form against the concrete wall, leaning over to brush part of his bangs out of his eyes, and not missing the slight blush that comes over his face. 

"oikawa-san is an idiot."

you raise your eyebrow. "that was out of nowhere."

he looks away from you, and you only grow more confused before he continues."i don't know what he said to you, but i think you're attractive."

your breath hitches for a second, before you settle into a a bright smile- one that has kageyama's heart beat in his ears. grabbing him by the collar, pulling him close, and giving him a noogie. "aww tobio, you're so cute. you'll always be my favorite." 

but your volleyball headed tobio doesn't deserve to be a rebound. and it's not what will heal your broken heart right now. 

that's what you said, with the time stop watch tucked away in the pocket of your sweater.  

[doyumacy]

𝐆𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐙𝐘 — 3

gif not mine

pairing: taeyong x doyoung x reader

warnings: 「dotae x reader, mentions of donghyuck and yuta, smut (unprotected sex, fingering, oral sex m. receiving) polyamorous relationship, swearing, angst, a slight of possessives  」

word count: 「 3,4K 」

ꜰᴏᴜʀ

“Someone sent you flowers,” Your assistant Donghyuck enters your office with a white rose flower bouquet in his hands.

You stop what you are doing and smile looking at them. Taeyong and his gifts. He even changed the flowers since he never sent white roses. Donghyuck places the bouquet on your desk and hands you the note card. You grab it.

𝒀𝒐𝒖’𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒔. 

𝑰 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖. 

𝑫.

You smile and bite your lip.

Doyoung.

You shake your head when you realise this might be wrong. Why would he send you flowers? He hates flowers and even more, sending them. You know things are getting out of control and as much as you don’t want things to change, you don’t mind the idea of just you and Doyoung.

But the image of Taeyong comes to your mind. What would he say if he knew you two were going back his back? If something Taeyong can’t stand is betrayal and much less of the people he loves.

You come back to reality when you hear Donghyuck sigh. “I wish I could find love.”

You huff. “Love ain’t everything in this world.”

“Easy for you to say it when you have two men just for you,” Donghyuck rolls his eyes.

“Okay, fair, but I mean, you already have love.”

“The love I receive from you and my family can give me orgasms,” Donghyuck cocked his eyebrows.

You laugh. “Try using Tinder?”

“I am desperate but not that desperate,” he places a hand on his chest, offended.

“Or you can wait for the party this weekend to mingle,” you beam. “But as your boss I’m telling you that's not the most professional thing to do.”

“We all know those parties are not for business or looking good; is to find a good ass to bang,” he shrugs.

“I’m gonna pretend to didn’t say that or I will uninvite you,” you warn.

“Is Johnny still married?” He asks.

“Pretty much so,” you smile, typing on your laptop keyboard.

He sighs, defeated. “I guess I can’t stop trying.”

“Aren’t you gonna text Taeyong to say ‘thank you’ for the flowers?”

You nod. “I’m just gonna finish something and I’ll call him.”

(...)

When you’re back home, you notice a sound in the kitchen and go there just to find Taeyong putting away the groceries. He has taken his suit jacket off and is hanging on the back of one of the kitchen benches. He turns and sees you. He smiles at you. “Hey you. When did you get here? I didn’t hear you.”

“I just got here,” you say and get closer to him, placing the bouquet on the kitchen counter.

“Who sent those?” He points at the bouquet.

You press your lips together. “It was a gift from the Chinese editor. He’s excited to come.”

Taeyong nods and closes the fridge door. He rolls up his shirt sleeves and leans against the counter, resting his hands on it. He tilts his head, looking at you. “Why do you lie to me?”

You blink. “W-what do you mean?”

He sighs and walks to you a few steps. “I know Doyoung fucked you days ago.”

You gulp and open your mouth, but nothing comes out of it. “H-how did you know?”

“I heard you two,” he shrugs and shakes his head. “I don’t mind at all. Doyoung and I have fucked plenty of times when you’re not around.”

You tilt your head in surprise. “What?”

“It doesn't feel good, does it?” Taeyong cocks an eyebrow.

You shake your head. He finally steps in front of you and grabs your chin with his thumb. “What really bothers me is that you lied to me.”

You look down your feet and gulp. “I’m sorry.”

Taeyong squeezes your chin a bit so you look at him. When your eyes meet his, one of the corners of his lips lifts. “Show me how sorry you are.”

Slowly, Taeyong leans into the space between you and him, lips puckering slightly and pressing themselves to yours. Mouths lulling against each other, the pliant skin of his lips aching upon you, making you want more, making you want to kiss every part of him.

Your chest, and cheeks, and heart burn, fingers curling around his jaw and pulling him into you. Mouths aching for more, noses nudging against cheeks, hands desperately reaching to grab for flesh. Taeyong moves backwards slightly. He stares at you before pushing you down slowly to the bed. He places himself on top of you, kissing you again. His body arching into you, chest plush against your breasts, his groin prodding you, the heat of his member obvious even through his pants. Your mouth parts with a groan, with Taeyong reaching up, clasping a hand around your throat. He latches down gently, fingers strong, curling the way they would when he places them inside you. Another moan rumbles out your mouth. Mark pulled back. You bite your lip.

He removes his hand from your throat, leaving you all too untouched and to make it worse, he takes a hold of your wrists and pin them atop your head. Leaving you helpless and unable to pull him closer. You watch from below as a grin parts from Taeyong's lips, still glowing with the remnants of your kiss.

"Taeyong, please."

"Please?" He partially asks, partially mocked.

"Please fuck me."

"Hey, hey,’ he releases your wrists. "Patience, baby. And you still have to show me how sorry you are."

Taeyong leans downward, pressing a single kiss upon your lips. The taste of him lingering against you but disappearing all too quickly, though the feeling reappeared upon your neck. Where Taeyong leaves small, chaste kisses, trailing lower as though he is mapping out every detail of your skin. The desire to reach up and grasp his shoulders burn in your stomach, and yet, the compulsion to follow his orders is stronger. Taeyong is rarely a dom, and today he is behaving like, and you don't mind at all.

You keep your hands upon the bed as Taeyong moves your shirt upward, rolling it as he did, supple skin of his fingers brushing against your torso. Small whimpers leave your mouth, eyes tightly shut, embarrassed at how easily his touches affected you.

But his touches stop when he stands up in front of you. You get on your knees still on the bed and help him to remove what is left of his suit, letting it drop on the floor. "So..." you start,  fingers undoing the button of his dress shirt. "Will this be enough to show you how sorry I am?" you ask and then suck his chest, making him groan sexily. You lick the spot and give it a kiss before admiring the red spot you created in contrast to his white skin.

"You tell me," Taeyong grabs your hair and pulls it a bit. "Oh God, (Y/N)," Taeyong calls when you bend down to give his stomach marks as well, licking the sensitive skin.

You remove his pants, putting down his boxers that it's a pool under him now. You fist his growing member. Taeyong closes his eyes shut when you kiss the side of his cock, biting his lip to prevent a series of groans to emerge.

You give the tip a lick, kissing it as it oozes precum. "Fuck." he hisses, looking down on you Damn, you look so hot kneeling in front of him like that. Your hand doesn't leave his cock the whole time then smiles before doing the deed.

Your mouth is really hot or maybe because his cock was really sensitive now but it feels so good that groans escape his lips. You suck his cock, playing with it inside her mouth and even fondling his balls. His hands reach for your hair again,  tugging it in a ponytail as he bobbs your head up and down on his cock. He groans and throws his head back.

"You're so fucking good, baby." he compliments as the holds on your hair got tighter. You swallow his cock, deepthroating him that makes him groan. "Oh God, (Y/N)." And that is it, his control going down the drain. He thrusts into your mouth with so much power. He keeps on groaning as he fuck your mouth and feel himself cumming in no time. His cum fills your throat and some dropped on your mouth, even licking the excess from his cock, swallowing it.

Taeyong gives you an adoring smile as he wipes some excess from your lips and you suck his finger that makes him look at you lustfully. "Such a good girl."

"My turn," he slightly pushes you into the bed again and with no effort, your pants are on the floor.

He begins to gently brush the pad of his middle finger against your folds, the pressure already making you squirm. Your panties are stuck to your skin, unable to realise how wet you are from just a kiss and sucking Taeyong off, but here's proof as the chiffon moulds to your sex, Taeyong’s finger delicately causing a delicious friction that wound your body up even more. You need something else. You need his skin on yours.

You shift uncomfortably when he slides against your clit and he freezes on the spot, basking in your reaction as a small whine falls from your lips. His fingers pulling at your panties as he places his hand inside, making room in the tight space.

He groans when he feels the softness of your flesh, drenched in your arousal and he presses his forehead against yours. The tight material strains against his hand and your thighs making you look down and you moan at the sight, the veins in his hand protruding against the skin as two of his fingers rub at your clit. Your head falls back against the bed while you concentrate on taking deep breaths to ease you away from your impending combustion it seemed.

You shift again when you feel his finger dip to your entrance, collecting your arousal and swirling it around. A small whine falls from your throat as he looks up at you, eyes dancing with mirth. Fuck, he is loving this.

“What, do you want more?” He asks, playing innocent, his breaths coming out in heavy bursts, telling you he is just as affected as you.

You nod and you feel him push one of his long fingers inside of you. Your walls spasm around the digit uncontrollably. The pleasure is imminent as he begins to curl his digit slowly against your sensitive walls and you moan again. Taeyong joins you, moaning loudly as he captures your mouth in another messy kiss, your tongues tangling together, his free hand gripping your hip as you thread your fingers entirely into his hair, anchoring him to you.

After a couple more snaps of his wrist you feel him bring another finger to your entrance and you hold your breath as he pushes inside, the stretch wonderfully pleasurable as you cry against his lips, to which he swallows each beautiful noise.

“Ah, Taeyong,” you moan. “Right there, please don’t stop.” You beg as his fingers brush against your g-spot and he pulls away from you, looking down at your bodies as he continues to finger you, taking sharp intakes of breath as he concentrates on pleasuring you good.

“I love it when you say my name,” he utters.

And you are saying it, the syllables falling from your lips like a mantra and as you close your eyes you feel him kiss just under your ear, his laboured breathing sending shivers up your spine as he begins to suck on your earlobe, nibbling on the soft flesh teasingly.

“You sound so beautiful,” he comments, his voice hush, a low growl. “You look so beautiful."

He pins you down using his crotch, pushing his thigh into yours and your belly flips in fresh pleasure, feeling how hard he is again.

You open your eyes and look between your bodies, your eyes rolling into the back of your head at the sight. You could tell Taeyong knows you are close. “That’s it, babe,” he husks. “Let go for me, I know you want to. I can feel you clenching around my fingers.”

You shut your eyes again, tight as they can go, letting Taeyong’s voice echo in your brain. It is so hot to hear these words coming from him, his usual calm and polite demeanour lightyears away from this, and you moan quietly, in between sighs of his name as he helps you see stars.

“Cum on my hand, baby… C’mon,” he urgs, his voice sugary sweet in the shell of your ear and that is all you need to hear before your orgasm tore through your body.

You are aware you are maybe being a little too loud, but you don't care. The sensation is strong and you gasp for breath as the pleasure ebbes slowly out of your body, aware that Taeyong is watching your every expression as you come around.

He gives you a moment so you can come back from high and he plants kisses on your chest.

Taeyong gives his cock a few jerks as he watches you turn around and sit on your knees, with a slight tilt forward and the arch in your back to accentuate your ass.

His hands lightly smack your cheeks and slowly enters your dripping hole. His hands grip your hips as he slides deeper into you, both being moaning messes at the delicious feeling.

When his length is fully buried inside of your tight walls, he wraps an arm around your waist and a hand on your tit. “After all the times you’ve been fucked, your pussy is still as tight as ever.”

Taeyong slams hard into you, showing no mercy and causing you to jolt up. “But you take me so well, darling. I’ve never seen someone as pretty as you.”

His compliments cause your heart to soar, despite the soreness you’re beginning to feel in your pussy. He’s relentless, bottoming out until his tip is practically in your guts. “Oh fuck, yeah... just like that. Shit."

Your knees give out as you fall face forward into the mattress, hands in fists from the incredible pleasure of every hit. Your ass now in his full view and every tingle of magic lights up in his veins.

Your throat is raw from screaming and moaning, Taeyong holds your hips steady to thrust into a new angle. Automatically, your body twitches as his tip hits your special spot and he’s well aware that you’re close to releasing.

Taeyong lifts your limp body upright, against his torso and an arm secured around your middle as before. His hand snakes to your clit, rubbing feathering circles over the neglected bud.

Nonetheless, his single action paired with his tip grazing harshly against the particular spot causes your legs to tremble. “Do you want me to stop?” His threat rings in your ears when you still left him without an answer.

You’re so close, you’re starting to see white. "Fuck fuck fuck. I'm so c-"

“I’ve got you. Let go of yourself, baby.” Taeyong slows his hips when your walls squeeze around him sporadically.

He whispers, cumming inside of you. He pulls out and gently tucks you into the covers.Breathless, you stare at him. "Taeyong..."

"Yeah?" He lays next you.

"That was so good," you run a hand through your hair. "So good."

He smirks. "I know."

(...)

You eye the roses placed within the glass vase situated in the center of the table. The Elie Saab gown that hugs your body has everyone's eyes on you.  

This gala is for the Magazine's Anniversary, people from different parts of the world are there and none of them can't stop congratulating you for the great work you are doing.

Taeyong and Doyoung are wearing matching red suit bows and they seem very pleased to be talking with Kim Lee, a beautiful fashion blogger. She is gorgeous and her dress is sexily revealing. You understand why your two boyfriends are too focused on her. Or her tits.

You feel a bit jealous but since they are too busy with Kim, you can also make yourself busy. You grab two glasses of champagne and walk to Yuta, the editor of the magazine in Japan.

Yuta is beautiful, you cannot deny it. His facial features are soft. Sharp cheekbones and his body is thinned out, but you can notice his defined muscles underneath his suit.

You place a hand on his shoulder to call his attention and he turns to you. He smiles. "Hey you. You disappeared."

"Sorry about that. I had to greet more people," you apologise. "Want a glass of champagne?"

"Of course," he says and you hand him a glass. He grabs it and has a sip. "The party is amazing. I love it."

You smirk. "Thank you so much. I'm happy you made it."

One of the corners of his lips lifts. "I would have never missed one of your parties, miss (Y/L/N)."

He's flirting. You know it. And you don't mind since Doyoung and Taeyong's eyes are still focused on Kim Lee, all smiley.

You give a gentle smile. "Just (Y/N), please."

He nods. "Okay, (Y/N)." Yuta winks at you. "By the way, you look incredible tonight. Respectfully, of course."

You beam. "Thank you, but please stop complimenting me. I'm blushing."

He chuckles. "There's no way I can't stop complimenting such a beautiful woman like you."

Across the room, Doyoung hears your laughter and he looks for you; you are standing in front of Yuta, who is watching you like his last meal. While laughing, you put a hand on his shoulder which makes Doyoung enraged. Something's snappening inside of him.

Why the hell are you flirting with another man? Taeyong seems to realize where Doyoung's gaze is focused and frowns. He then laughs. "I can't believe she's giving us a taste of your own medicine."

Doyoung runs a hand through his hair. "I hope she still has energy when we get home."

Taeyong cocks an eyebrow. "What are you planning?"

"You'll see," Doyoung looks at him.

(...)

You leave Yuta alone again so you can go to the restroom. As you're fixing your makeup in front of the mirror, someone enters and locks the door. You turn just to see a not very pleased Doyoung walking to you. You smile. "You're in the wrong restroom, sweetie."

He tilts his head to the side, watching you. "You know why I'm here, love."

You shake your head, playing dumb. "Is something wrong?"

Doyoung sighs, irritated. He walks close to you a few steps and when he's close enough to you, he grabs your chin lifting it up, so your eyes are at his level. "You're fucking mine, (Y/N). Do you get it? I hated seeing you flirting with that asshole."

You bite your lip, looking at him playfully. "I was just doing what you were doing, sweetie."

He groans and clenches your jaw a little, not so much as to hurt it. You whimper. Then Doyoung groans, releasing you. "Just wait until we get home."

"Why don't you show me here?" You put your arms around his neck. "I'm horny. Yuta got me horny." You tease.

Doyoung growls and by the next second, you are pinned to a wall with Doyoung's hands on your waist, his grip is strong. "Don't fucking push me or I'll fuck your soul out right here."

"Then do it," you lick your lips.

Doyoung keeps a hand firmly pressed on your waist. He pulls you flat against him and stares down at you

Your hands run up his chest, feeling each curve through his tuxedo. You wrap your arms around his waist and pull him down to let your lips meet.

Doyoung moves his lips against yours, roughly. He roughly sucks your bottom lip between his before pulling away. "You're lucky you're wearing that long dress."

You pout. "I can bend over."

He giggles and places kisses on your neck. "Save that energy for tonight because you're not getting any sleep. I promise," he whispers to your ear and you gulp because Doyoung always keeps his promises.

[ming-yu-hao]

Distance Makes the Heart Grow Fonder | Chapter 3

Pairing: fratboy!mingyu x female reader

Word Count: 6k

Synopsis: When you transferred to a different university, you and Wonwoo promised that you would make long distance work. But distance proves to be more difficult than you both originally thought.

This Chapter’s Tags: angst, protected sex, finger sucking, grinding, light choking/spanking/dirty talk, mingyu just being an ass man, riding, cheating obviously

Warning: THIS SERIES IS ABOUT CHEATING. DO NOT READ IF IT MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE!

A/N: Y’ALLLLL I’m sorry this took me forever to upload... I just got super busy but there won’t be as long as a wait for the next chapter! As always feedback is appreciated and I hope you guys like this :)

Chapters: Previous | Next | Masterlist

Your knees quivered beneath you as you pulled the soft fabric of your leggings up your thighs and over your hips. You bent down to pick up your shirt that was still balled up on the floor, and when you stood again you could hear the bed rustle behind you as Mingyu shifted his weight.

Guilt didn't hit you until you slipped your shirt back over your head, fully dressing yourself once again.

What had you done?

Without looking at him, you spoke: "I think I should go now."

He was silent.

You stepped over to the door, your hand about to twist the knob when he finally called out to you.

"Y/N."

You looked at him. He was sitting up on his bed; his dark hair was a mess, hanging over his forehead. His lips were parted like he didn't know what to say.

"Um, don't forget your jacket. It's cold outside." He pointed to your jacket that was still discarded on the floor.

"Oh, thanks," you said with your voice wavering. You quickly picked up the jacket and headed for the door again.

"Text me when you get home, okay?" Mingyu rushed to say. The corners of his mouth quirked up into a thin, awkward smile and you nodded your head in response.

Why did he suddenly care? He used to just be some guy you sat next to in class. When did he want to become your friend? When did he start to become protective over you? Was this all really just because of his half-drunken encounter with you at that party? Did the moment you two shared that night cause him to feel some kind of attachment to you? Thinking about it all made your head spin. Nothing made sense to you anymore.

You turned the knob and cracked open the door when Mingyu spoke again.

"Um, also... you know, if you ever need anything... I'm here for you." His voice shook a bit.

You exhaled. "Thank you."

You slipped out of his room before he could say anything else and stepped down the stairs quietly, attempting to dart out the front door before anyone could see you. There was a small group of people hanging out in the living room like Mingyu had said, their laughter and conversations loud and echoing through the house.

When you reached the bottom of the stairs, you kept your gaze down at your feet while you scanned the floor for your shoes.

"Y/N?" You heard a voice call from behind you.

You huffed out a quiet breath in frustration before turning around with an overly sweet smile on your face. Your eyes landed on Seungcheol.

"Oh, hey! It's weird not seeing Jisoo following you around." You joked.

Seungcheol smiled sheepishly. "Yeah..." He trailed off, looking down at the ground.

"Are you guys dating?" You probed with a raised eyebrow.

"I wanted to talk to you about that, actually." He admitted, making eye contact with you. Curiosity plagued you, and you stared at him expectantly as you waited for him to speak. "I wanna do something special for her when I ask her out... just cause, I don't know, I really like her." He stammered nervously, lowering his voice so no one could eavesdrop.

You gave him a genuine smile. You were happy that Jisoo had found someone that truly liked her. Ever since the beginning of the semester, she had been cycling through an array of terrible guys that used and ghosted her. Seungcheol seemed like a genuinely good person; you trusted him to take care of her.

You brought your hand to your chin as you pondered for a moment. "Well, if I'm being honest, she's, like, a huge hopeless romantic. Loves cheesy romance movies and stuff." You started, "If you took her out to a nice dinner and walked around some really pretty, romantic place after, that'd be her dream come true."

Seungcheol nodded, his eyes glazed over in deep thought as he acknowledged your advice. "Yeah, that sounds like her." He smiled. "Thanks."

You nodded. "So... how did the raffle go?"

"It went really good, actually." He responded, shoving his hands in his pockets. "The money's going to a child psychology organization. I've been doing research with them for a few months now."

Your eyes lit up in interest at his story. "That's really cool. Have you discovered any groundbreaking research yet?" You half-joked.

He chuckled, "I guess a little bit."

A lightbulb suddenly went off in your brain. "Hey, do you think I could interview you about all this research stuff you've done? I need to write an article for class."

Seungcheol shrugged. "Sure."

You spent the next few minutes probing him about how he got involved in the program, what he had been researching, his motivation to study child psychology—all while taking down notes on your phone. He explained to you how he had struggled with anxiety his whole life and wanted to find a way to help others. In the back of your mind, this was all affirming why he was such a good match for Jisoo. He was caring, passionate, charitable. Your heart warmed at the thought of Jisoo finally settling down with someone who was actually a good person.

Your interview came to an end and you thanked Seungcheol for helping you out. He nodded before glancing down at the jacket you were carrying in your arms.

"Were you planning on leaving?" He asked.

"Yeah, I need to go work on homework and stuff." You answered.

He attempted to suppress his smirk by biting his lip. "You and Mingyu didn't get much work done together?" He raised his eyebrows at you.

You felt your heart drop into your stomach. "What?"

"Relax, I'm just kidding." Seungcheol laughed. "He just seemed comfortable with you earlier, you know?"

The tension in your stomach loosened a little as you realized that he didn't actually know what happened between you two. This is exactly what Mingyu was worried about earlier. So it was true that Seungcheol liked to play matchmaker and get involved in everyone else's relationships.

"There's nothing going on between you guys?" Seungcheol questioned after you didn't respond.

You felt your cheeks grow hot with irritation. "No. I have a boyfriend." You said curtly.

Seungcheol's mouth formed an O-shape at the sudden coldness in your tone. "I-I'm sorry, I was just kidding." He quickly apologized.

"It's okay." You sighed. You glanced around for your shoes, avoiding his regretful gaze.

"Well, I really have to get going. Thanks for helping me out." You said as you slipped on your shoes.

He smiled apologetically and walked you over to the door. "See you, Y/N!" He called behind you as you stepped out into the cold.

You buried yourself in work for the next two days. You figured it was easier to just get lost in the flow of doing assignment after assignment rather than to think about what happened.

But no matter what you did, your mind still wandered back to that moment—when your lips finally met Mingyu's, and his body pressed against yours.

The worst part was that you didn't even try to stop him: you had agreed to it, and God, you even thanked him for it! You weren't even sure if you could regret what happened. You hated yourself for betraying Wonwoo's trust, but at the same time you craved attention and affection. Mingyu just happened to be the one that fulfilled your wishes after all this time.

You would never tell Mingyu that, of course. Honestly, you were unsure if you could even face him about it. He could tell that you felt guilty afterwards. If you just finished this stupid project and avoided him for the rest of the semester, he would probably get the hint and leave you alone.

It was Saturday evening when you typed the last words of your article on Seungcheol and his research. You hadn't talked to Mingyu since you left his room on Thursday night, but you needed him to complete his share of the work. Sighing, you picked up your phone and pulled up your messages with him. You quickly explained what kind of pictures he needed to take and told him to send them to you (so you could avoid seeing him anymore than you needed to).

You clicked out of your conversation, and that's when your eyes landed on the messages that were still unread by Wonwoo. You wanted to ask him what he was doing, but after three days with no response, it felt pathetic to even attempt to strike up a conversation now.

The sound of the door knob jiggling startled you before Jisoo busted into the room a moment later.

"Y/N!" She cheered in a sing-song voice. "We have another party to go to tonight!"

You already knew exactly where this party was going to be, and you felt your stomach drop at the thought of running into Mingyu.

You shook your head. "No way, Jisoo. I'm way too busy." You lied.

She pouted her lips at you. "Really? You've been working nonstop. How're you still not done?"

You shrugged and let out an exaggerated sigh.

"Well, you can take a break for a few hours. I promise I won't leave you this time. You can hangout with me and Cheol." She begged, looking at you with wide, saddened eyes.

Your phone vibrated between your hands, and when you glanced down you saw Mingyu's name on the screen.

Mingyu: I'm actually gonna be out studying and working on some stuff with a friend tonight. I promise I'll get the pics for you tomorrow :) Sent at 7:37 PM

You thought it was a little weird for a guy like Mingyu to be studying on a Saturday night, but when you realized that he wouldn't be at the party, relief flooded over you.

You looked up at Jisoo and saw her still expectantly staring at you, waiting for your response.

"I- I guess I could go for a bit."

"YES!" Seungkwan shrieked as he successfully landed another ball in one of Jisoo's cups. He turned to you and wildly smacked your palm in a high five, nearly hitting you in the face. Your stomach was starting to hurt from laughing for the past ten minutes over the intense match of beer pong in front of you.

The crowd around the table reacted loudly, some cheering and some booing as Jisoo downed another cup of alcohol. She shivered at the taste and Seungcheol came up from behind to pat her on the back. His lips moved as he said something to her, but with music blasting through the house so loud, you couldn't make out a single word.

Your phone vibrated in your back pocket. Without much thought, you pulled it out and quickly glanced at the screen.

Your heart sank into your stomach as you realized: Wonwoo was calling.

"Fuck," you muttered under your breath. You had completely forgotten that Saturday's were now reserved for your FaceTime dates.

You looked up at everyone with wide eyes, but they were too immersed in the game to notice your reaction. You pushed your way through the crowd and slipped into the bathroom before Jisoo or anyone else could come looking for you.

By the time you reached the bathroom and locked the door, the FaceTime call had already stopped ringing. Leaning against the door, you scrolled through your contacts and called back, but only as a phone call.

Wonwoo answered after two rings.

"Hey, everything alright?" He asked.

You swallowed. "Uh... yeah."

"Why didn't you FaceTime?" He continued. You hesitated, but then he spoke before you could say anything. "Why is it so loud? Where are you?"

You cursed yourself for not running away to a room that was farther away from all the music and noise outside the door. Fidgeting with your fingers, you answered: "A party."

"Oookay," he scoffed. "You could've at least let me know if you were gonna go out. But it's fine. Have fun, I guess." He responded coldly.

Your brows furrowed together instinctively. Now it was your turn to scoff at him. "You're not serious, are you?" The skin of your face grew warmer. Wonwoo was quiet. "I forgot. Sorry." You admitted through grit teeth.

"Why're you so mad?" He questioned in a defensive tone.

You rolled your eyes. "This is the first time I've ever cancelled on you and it was an accident. Do I need to remind you of all the times you ditched me?"

Wonwoo didn't respond.

"And what the fuck have you been doing the past three days that you couldn't respond to me?" You spat. Blood was rushing through your veins quickly now as anger took over.

He sighed through the receiver. "I was busy."

"Does it really take that much time to send a text to your fucking girlfriend?" Your voice began to rise. "How do you expect this to work if you don't even talk to me?"

"I'm sor-" He began to speak, but you interrupted him.

"You know, sometimes it feels like I'm dating nobody!" You cried. "Do you even realize how lonely I feel?" Your voice shook with each word as your throat grew tighter; tears welled up in your eyes. You didn't want to cry, but all the frustration you had bottled up the past couple months was finally spilling over.

In a calm voice, all Wonwoo said was: "I'm trying."

"Not hard enough." You scoffed.

"What the fuck, Y/N? Where is this coming from?" He cried. The sudden rise in his voice startled you a bit.

The phone shook in your grasp. "You act like I don't even exist! How can you call that trying?"

"Fuck, I'm not dealing with this right now. Go back to your stupid fucking party." He snapped.

"Yeah, just go and ignore me again!" You laughed sardonically.

The three tones of the call ending sounded abruptly. You looked down at your phone in shock. He had hung up on you.

Your hands balled into fists as you threw your head back against the door. Your jaw was tense, but your bottom lip still quivered.

He had done it again. It seemed it was becoming easy for him at this point—abandoning you when you needed him.

This wasn't going to last much longer if the two of you couldn't figure this out.

When you pressed your lips into a thin line, tears slipped down, staining the bags under your eyes with makeup.

Was he giving up on you?

Your head began to pound. You couldn't stand being in this hot bathroom any longer, much less this party in general. You wiped your cheeks with the back of your hand and turned to unlock the door.

As you took a step out of the bathroom, you kept your gaze locked on your feet; you didn't want anyone to notice the state you were currently in.

Not even a moment after opening the door, you collided with a tall, warm body.

"Sorry," you mumbled, pushing past.

"Y/N?" A familiar voice called. Strong hands grasped your forearm, and you glanced up at the figure.

Mingyu.

What force was bringing you back to him once again?

His lips parted in a small gasp as he noticed the redness in your tearful eyes. "Hey, what's wrong? Come here."

Before you could protest, he guided you back into the bathroom, closing and locking the door so no one could bother you two.

You kept your eyes down at the ground, unable to look at him. As he approached you, the heat of his skin radiated against you.

"I thought you were out studying." You spoke, breaking the silence.

Mingyu's hands found your jaw. He ran the smooth skin of his thumbs over your cheeks, wiping the tears that remained. "I finished early," he explained.

"Look at me," Mingyu whispered. You swallowed and blinked before meeting his eyes.

You didn't notice the thin, black-rimmed glasses that were resting on his nose before. His dark hair was pushed back, and his tan skin glowed under the bathroom light. You hated how instinctively drawn you felt to his presence.

You started to think that Kim Mingyu might be the Devil, disguised in the form of a beautiful boy that always knew the right words to say. He was here to tempt you, to swindle you at your most vulnerable moments, to test your fidelity. And you were weak enough to cave in.

"Is it your boyfriend?" He asked.

The gaze he held on you was so intense that you found yourself staring at the frames of his glasses instead of his eyes. You nodded silently in response to his question.

"Talk to me. What happened?" Mingyu cooed as he stroked your cheeks with his thumbs.

"I-" You started, but let out a sigh instead. "We just fought. I don't know. I don't wanna talk about it." You rambled.

"Okay," he nodded. "Sorry if I pushed it." He removed his hands from your face. The skin suddenly felt cold without his touch.

He sighed and shoved his hands in his pockets. "We can talk about something else."

You stood still, nodding, but couldn't think of anything to say.

"You know," Mingyu started, "You look really pretty. Even when you're crying." Your skin flushed at the compliment.

Rolling your eyes playfully, you wiped the last remnants of makeup off your cheeks. "Is that your go-to line for every girl?" You joked.

"No," he replied. "Just cause I'm in a frat doesn't mean I'm a douche."

You snickered under your breath. "Yeah, but there's gotta be so many girls that hit on you."

"There's some," he shrugged. "Doesn't mean I flirt back."

Your legs were beginning to grow tired from standing, so you walked over to the counter and sat on the edge. You gripped the ledge to keep your balance, swinging your legs back and forth.

Mingyu stood in his same spot, but turned in your direction. He quirked his eyebrows at you. "Are you suggesting that I'm attractive enough to have hundreds of girls swooning over me?" He shot you a teasing grin.

You chuckled and shook your head. "You wish."

Mingyu's jaw dropped in a fake expression of shock as he came closer to you, but he stood to the side to stare at himself in the mirror. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"Since when do you wear glasses?" You inquired.

"Since forever." He replied.

Mingyu placed his hands on the edge of the counter, pushing his weight onto them. The muscles in his arms were prominent through his black shirt. Your eyes dragged across his figure, eventually landing on his face again.

"I like them. They look good." You said.

He glanced at you, his eyes laced with hints of suspicion. "Thanks," he said with his voice a little uneven. He cleared his throat and stood up straight. "Did I help get your mind off him a bit?"

You winced at the mention of Wonwoo, but nodded. "Yeah, you did. Thank you." You exhaled.

Mingyu smiled to himself and his eyes met yours once again. "Good. I feel like it's the least I can do to help."

As you stared at him, you admired his features—his soft, clear complexion and plump lips. You suddenly became aware of how close he was to you; his hand was resting only a few inches away from your thigh. Your mind thought back to how it felt when those hands caressed the bare skin of your body. Impulsively, your thighs pressed together at the revisitation of the memory.

The room felt like it had instantly shot up ten degrees, and the heat left your judgement clouded like a foggy mirror. If Mingyu really was the Devil, his plan was working.

You leaned towards him until your face was only a few inches from his. Your breath caught in your throat as you went to speak.

"I really wanna kiss you right now." You admitted quickly, your eyes focused on his lips.

Mingyu backed away. "Are you drunk?" He asked. His eyes were wide with concern as he scanned you.

You remained where you were, embarrassment creeping up on you as you rapidly shook your head. "I haven't drank anything."

Mingyu chewed on his bottom lip. "I- I don't think it's a good idea. After last time..." he trailed off, glancing up to peek at your reaction. "I don't want you to do something you'll regret again."

"I don't regret it." You blurted before you could stop yourself.

You weren't sure what you were doing or where you wanted to go with this, but you couldn't stop. A feeling of lust had possessed you at this point, controlling your every word and action.

Mingyu looked taken aback at your confession, standing up straighter. His lips were parted in uncertainty, but you watched as his eyes flicked down to look at your lips.

"You don't?" He asked, inching closer to you.

Your heart was beating rapidly in your chest now. You quickly shook your head. "No."

His right hand found a place to rest under your chin, tilting your head up to look at him as his face neared yours. He swiped his thumb over your bottom lip.

"Are you sure?" He whispered.

Desire had overcome you so strongly at this point that you couldn't bring yourself to answer him through words. Instead, you crashed your lips onto his.

Mingyu responded eagerly, his kisses fueled with the same amount of force. Your hands quickly found purchase on the nape of his neck, pulling his body closer to yours. Right as you spread your legs to allow him to stand in between them, Mingyu's tongue darted against your lips, slipping into your mouth when you parted your lips for him.

He placed his left hand on your inner thigh, roughly squeezing the flesh between his fingers as he deepened the kiss. You moaned into his mouth, and he dragged his other hand down to the small of your back to pull you closer to him.

Now your core was pressed against his. Mingyu removed his lips from yours, only to place open-mouthed kisses on the area below your ear. You jerked your hips up as he nibbled lightly on the skin, the friction between your thighs growing.

Your jaw hung open as your arousal increased with each moment; your breathing became heavy while you panted into his ear. He sucked on your collarbone, and a chill shot it's way up your spine. You whimpered loudly and you could feel Mingyu smirk against your skin.

"You sound so pretty," he mumbled, his lips brushing against your skin as he spoke. He lifted his head, his tongue poking out of his cheek while he observed you. Your head was thrown back, eyes half shut, and you were ever so slightly grinding your hips against his for the smallest bit of relief.

Mingyu brought his fingers up to your lips, tapping on the soft skin to catch your attention. "Suck," he said, watching as you obediently parted your lips for him. He shoved two of his fingers into your mouth and pressed them down against your tongue. You could feel wetness building up between your legs. Even though it wasn't anything extreme, Wonwoo never did stuff like this with you in bed. You had to admit, all the new things that Mingyu was introducing to you excited you.

You hummed against him as he stuffed your mouth, almost gagging when his fingers neared the back of your throat. You swirled your tongue around his digits before he quickly pulled them away. You opened your eyes, staring at him in confusion, but his hungry gaze was already locked in on your core. He fumbled with the button of your jeans, and you felt your arousal suddenly spike at the thought of his fingers inside you.

You helped him shuffle your jeans over your ass and down to your knees. He bit his lip as he stared at your clothed heat, his cock stiffening beneath his own jeans, and pressed his dampened fingers to your clit through the fabric of your underwear.

You gasped quietly at the contact, but it wasn't enough. "Mmh, Mingyu," you whined. "Please."

"So needy," he teased with a smirk on his lips. He slipped his fingers beneath the fabric, pressing into your slick folds. His breathing grew heavier. "How're you so wet? I barely even touched you." He breathed against your cheek before he pressed a soft kiss to it. You blushed at his teasing words.

Mingyu rubbed your clit in slow circles, spreading your arousal around your folds. He pressed his lips to yours again, swallowing the moans you were letting out. He dragged his fingers down your heat, teasing your entrance by avoiding it. You clenched around nothing.

"Mingyu, I need you," you muttered against his lips.

"My fingers?" He questioned teasingly, pushing the tips of his digits into your core.

Desire was eating away at you, clouding your thoughts and replacing them with lust-filled ones. You bucked your hips up into his hand, whimpering beneath him.

"No, I want... you." You panted, looking up at him. Embarrassment picked away at you due to your vague request. His eyes appeared even darker than usual as he stared down at you with lust, registering what you were asking for.

Just as he was about to speak, the door knob shook, followed by loud pounding on the door. You jumped, and Mingyu quickly pulled his fingers away from your heat, leaving you with nothing.

"Open up!" A voice called from outside the door. "I have to piss!"

Oh, how wonderful.

You looked to Mingyu with wide eyes, and he motioned for you to stand up. "Pull your pants up!" He shouted at you in a whisper as he wiped his hands on his jeans. He stepped away from the counter, pressing his lips together in frustration as he realized the tent in his pants was painfully obvious.

You pushed yourself off the counter, standing up with shaky legs as you quickly pulled your pants over your hips and re-buttoned them.

The door knob jiggled again. "I'm literally gonna piss myself if you don't open this door in five seconds!" The same voice cried.

"What do we do?" You whispered to Mingyu.

He sighed. "Get out of here as fast as possible and go to my room." Your stomach flipped at the mention of his bedroom; you were really about to go through with this. He reached his hand out for you to grab, and you took hold of it as he led you both to the door.

Mingyu fumbled with the lock, and the door busted open a moment later, revealing a very drunken boy on the other side. He looked both of you up and down. You ducked down slightly, attempting to hide your face behind Mingyu's broad shoulders.

"Fuck, Mingyu? Really? The bathroom?" The boy said with disgust.

Mingyu rolled his eyes, his hand squeezing yours tighter. "Fuck off, Soonyoung." He replied before rushing out of the bathroom with you following close behind.

You couldn't help giggling at Mingyu's comment. He glanced over his shoulder when he noticed you laughing, a smile finding its way to his own lips as he chuckled at you. "Was I too harsh?" He joked.

Mingyu dragged you through the house quickly, and when you reached the bottom of the stairs, he pushed you in front of him to lead the way. You rushed up the steps, and when you neared the top, a sudden smack was delivered to your butt.

You let out a cry, followed by laughter of disbelief. "Mingyu!" You exclaimed with your jaw dropped once you reached the top of the stairs.

Mingyu stood behind you, his hands gripping your waist. He giggled into your ear. "I'm sorry, your ass is so cute." He placed a soft peck to your cheek.

"Let's go," he whispered, his voice suddenly an octave lower. Your stomach twisted, and Mingyu began leading you towards his room with his hands still on your hips.

He let go of you to twist the knob and push the door open, but as soon as you stepped foot into his room, his hands found your waist again and hurriedly pushed you further past the door. He kicked the door closed behind him, pushing you up against the wood. His lips quickly found yours, kissing you with even more intensity than before.

You could barely catch your breath as Mingyu gave you more rough kisses. He was being taken over by lust; he pressed himself against you, allowing you to feel the hardness in his pants. You ran one hand from his shoulder down his chest and stomach, feeling the muscles beneath his shirt tensing at your touch. Finally you palmed him through his jeans and he groaned against your mouth.

"Fuck, you're driving me crazy." He whispered before placing one more messy kiss to your lips. He pulled away to slip his fingers under the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head quickly and tossing it to the floor. His lips found your neck again, and you moaned as his tongue darted out to lick your sensitive spot. His hands were on your ass, pulling you closer to him and squeezing the soft skin.

Your head rolled back. "Shit, Mingyu," you moaned. "I need you now."

Mingyu pulled away to look down at you with a grin on his face. "Yeah?" He raised his eyebrow. He spanked your ass lightly, causing you to whimper and lean into him. "Go to the bed." He demanded, stepping away from you.

You walked to the bed, trying to swing your hips to hide the nervous wobble in your knees. You felt Mingyu come up behind you, his body pressing against yours. His stiff cock was brushing against your thigh. You turned around, sitting on the edge of the bed as you looked up at him.

"When are you gonna take this off?" You questioned while toying with the fabric of his shirt.

He chewed on his lip as he smirked at you. Without a word, he pulled it over his head, exposing his muscular arms and toned chest. Your eyes dragged hungrily over his torso, drinking in the sight of the outline of his abs.

"Better?" He teased, interrupting your admiring of his body. You looked up at his face. His glasses still rested on his nose, but his hair was slightly disheveled and his lips were now pink and swollen from kissing yours. You were breathless. He was beautiful, and you wanted him so badly.

You perked up from the position you were sitting in, a surge of confidence driven by desire guiding you. "Lie down," you commanded. Mingyu looked taken aback for a moment as he processed your sudden dominance, but he just chuckled and laid down without protest.

Once his back was against the mattress and he was splayed out beneath you, you crawled up towards him, straddling his hips. You dragged your hands down his chest, admiring the softness and warmth of his skin while you began to grind against him.

Mingyu threw his head back as he moaned softly, and you felt yourself clench at the sound. You leaned down, pressing your chest to his as you left kisses on his neck. His hips bucked up into your center. The friction between your bodies was so intense it was driving you insane.

You felt his fingers drag across your spine, causing goosebumps to from across your skin. He fumbled with the clasp of your bra and pulled the straps down your arms. You sat up to fully pull it off and throw it somewhere in the room, and Mingyu quickly brought his hands to your breasts. He squeezed the sensitive buds, twisting your nipples between his fingers. You moaned and pressed your hips into his even harder.

"Ride me," Mingyu mumbled into your ear. Unable to form any words, you nodded, reaching for the button of his jeans.

You lifted yourself off him to help him unzip his pants, and once he started pulling them off you kneeled to the side to discard your own jeans. Just as you began pulling your underwear down your thighs, Mingyu reached for the nightstand next to his bed, shuffling around in the drawer and eventually pulling out a condom.

He pulled his cock out of his boxers, and it stood stiffly against his stomach. He quickly ripped open the package, sliding the latex over his shaft. You straddled his thighs again, about to sink yourself onto him when he quickly grabbed your hips.

"No, no." He said. "Turn around."

You looked at him in confusion. "But-"

"Just trust me," he added, pressing a soft kiss to your chest.

You turned around so your back was facing him, still straddling his thighs. He kept one hand on your waist as the other reached for his cock. He guided the stiff head through your folds, wetting his cock with your arousal. When the tip brushed against your clit you whimpered as you clenched around nothing again.

"Please, Mingyu," you whined.

He dragged the head down to your entrance, finally pushing into you. Both of his hands rested on your hips now as he slowly sunk you down onto him.

You moaned at the slight burning sensation the stretch left behind. It had already been months since a dick was last inside you, and with Mingyu's size it was even more intense.

You aided by lowering yourself onto his cock, and once he bottomed out inside you he stayed still to let you adjust. His dick twitched inside you, and you clenched around him in response.

"You're so fucking tight," he moaned into your ear. He began nibbling and sucking at the skin between your neck and shoulder from behind you, and you whined in response.

You lifted yourself off him slowly, basking in the feeling of his cock rubbing against your walls. You sunk down fully onto him before raising your hips again, finally beginning to ride him.

Mingyu allowed you to work yourself against his length while he brought one hand to your breast again. You moaned loudly as he squeezed the flesh between his fingers and bucked his hips up into you.

"Mmmh, shit, you feel so good," you babbled before crying loudly again. Mingyu quickly brought his other hand up to your throat, lightly choking you.

"Shhh, baby." He whispered against your skin. "You can't be so loud." His words were followed by another soft slap to your ass, making you whine quietly.

He let go of your throat, bringing both of his hands to your waist once again to speed up your pace. He angled his hips so he could thrust up into you at the same time, and the angle caused him to hit your sensitive spot every time. You panted loudly as the pressure in your lower stomach grew, and you ground yourself against his cock, clenching around him.

"Shit." Mingyu choked out breathlessly. "Tight little pussy's taking me so well."

Maybe it was the filthy words that left his mouth, or the way Mingyu took hold of your hips to slow your pace and thrust into you especially hard, but you felt yourself tip over the edge, your mind cloudy as pleasure overtook you. You couldn't even tell if you were crying out loudly, but you assumed so by the way Mingyu suddenly pulled himself out of you and pushed you forward until your face was pressed into the mattress and he was kneeled behind you.

He thrusted into you roughly now, trying to reach his own high. Your eyes were rolling back into your head as your core tingled with oversensitivity, and you could feel yourself drooling onto the sheets.

He came with a particularly rough grunt, pausing his movements as his cum emptied into the condom inside you. He moaned breathlessly and he slowly pumped himself in and out of you to milk his orgasm. Finally, he pulled himself completely out, and his hand ran across your spine.

"You okay?" He asked, and you lifted yourself onto your hands and knees, nodding. Mingyu looked down at your legs, his lips dropping in a slight gasp. "Your thighs are shaking." He noted out loud.

Your face burnt with embarrassment as you kneeled back onto your knees. When you finally turned to look at Mingyu, he was tossing the condom into the trash. His hair was now pressed to his forehead with sweat and his cheeks were tinted a shade of pink. When his eyes met yours, his lips quirked up into a smile.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to get rough with you." He apologized. He sheepishly scratched the back of his neck.

You shook your head. "N-no, it's okay," you croaked out, finally able to formulate words now that all the post-orgasm bliss was fading away.

You didn't know why, but you felt like you had to be near him. You crawled up towards him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. It felt natural. Comfortable. It reminded you of how you felt with Wonwoo. And despite how much you enjoyed feeling Mingyu's soft lips against yours, that thought terrified you.

"Do you regret this?" He mumbled against your lips.

It scared you—the way you were able to betray Wonwoo so easily. Here you were, in bed with another boy: one that you shared inside jokes with and stole kisses from and ran to for comfort. All that you had built with Wonwoo over the past two years—were some miles apart really enough to tear everything down?

You answered honestly.

"No."