#I promised myself it wouldn’t be abandoned

[baiwu-jinji]

Thoughts on Yuwu and Update

Long time no see dear friends! :) I just finished a big work project and, more importantly, I finished reading Yuwu :P I’m acutely aware that there’re TGCF asks in my inbox I still haven’t answered, I need to re-familiarise myself with the books and I promise to answer them in the coming weeks. For now I want to share some quick thoughts on Yuwu.

1. I’ve seen people pointing out Yuwu’s problems with structures and plot holes, then again these are never Meatbun’s strong suits. Meatbun has always been best at flooding her readers with intense emotions and making us sympathise with even the worst of her characters. I think the best-written character in Yuwu is Jiang Yexue. While Mo Xi and Gu Mang are so strong-willed and incorruptible as to be almost inhuman, Jing Yexue shows how terrible it is to be truly alone in the world and the despair of emotional isolation, and how the best of intentions will turn to bottomless hatred and bile if they’re never repaid with recognition and kindness. The tragedy of Jiang Yexue is that everything and everyone he cares about has only brought him more misery and isolation. If he hadn’t cared about his mother so much, he wouldn’t have to put up with her insults and denigrations that trampled over his good will and planted the seed of bitterness that skewed his perception of the world. He wouldn’t have to be pained by his mother’s abandonment, yet still kept her murderous plots against Yue Chenqing a secret – if he had been more unfeeling and exposed her crime and his role in stopping it, he would’ve won the favour of his family and improved his personal standing. If he hadn’t cared about Yue Chenqing so much, he wouldn’t have to silently suffer the deprivation of his own resources for the sake of benefiting Chenqing, and to save Chenqing at the expanse of his own agony due to poisoning by demonic energy. If he hadn’t loved Murong Chuyi so much, he wouldn’t have looked to him as the only source of solace and salvation and bared his feelings in a moment of vulnerability, and then be completely abandoned and left terribly, terribly alone when Chuyi rejected his feelings.

However I have reasons to believe that Jiang Yexue is the author’s personal fav, because she uses the most beautiful imageries to describe him – not even Mo Xi and Gu Mang get this treatment: his eyes are like gardenia flowers in clear pools, his smile is soft like dew and breeze over flowers, his skin is like fresh snow and immaculate jade. Even his name paints the most poetic imagery: 江夜雪, which means “snow falling on river in the night” –  there is purity in darkness, gentleness in the bitter cold.

2. About Mo Xi and Gu Mang. There’s something so tragic about choosing the weight of the entire world over the love of your own heart, and choosing to be true to yourself but failing the one you love the most. Mo Xi and Gu Mang are made for each other if only for their boundless energy, determination, endurance, and capacity for pain. Anyone more faint-hearted than Mo Xi wouldn’t have been able to hold on to Gu Mang. Still, I don’t think Meatbun provided a satisfactory answer as to why Mo Xi is so unwavering in his attachment to Gu Mang, despite all appearances of Gu Mang neglecting, abandoning, betraying, and mortally wounding him. Li Qingqian is given as a counterexample of persistence in love not ending well, so what gives Mo Xi the strength to persist beyond what normal people can bear? Meatbun seems to give an answer in this paragraph: “in this world, to love or not to love is something that can always be changed, but only the heart forever remains as itself. Mo Xi has never been one to make commitments lightly, the day he determined to confess his love to Gu Mang, what he gave Gu Mang wasn’t his love. It was his heart.” So what is the difference between heart and love? What does it mean that love changes but the heart doesn’t?... Despite the obligatory happy ending, Ximang has always had a tragic undertone; Mo Ran and Chu Wanning can only hope to be as star-crossed as Ximang. Mo Xi’s name, 熄 (xi), means to extinguish a light or fire, and this word 熄 is repeated used in allegorical expressions of how Mo Xi’s hope for Gu Mang to recover or return his feelings is extinguished. Mo Xi’s own name is a testament to the hopeless love between Ximang.

3. I think the stories of almost every major character in Yuwu points to one line Mo Xi said to the emperor – 人贵有情, which means “emotions/feelings/attachments are that most precious human thing”. It doesn’t mean that feelings will always lead characters to make the right decisions or make them better people, but that feelings are the most unignorable and persistent drive behind the characters’ actions – even when you’ve lost everything and discarded your humanity, your feelings for those you love will still be there, shaping your destiny, tormenting your heart, making you care. The Three Gentlemen of Chonghua are defined by the Buddhist virtue of self-control, but eventually we see the love or hate that drives them, and their virtuous self-restraint is just a façade.

4. It is very apropos to Chinese history (and modernity) that the nation is ultimately destroyed not by an evil outsider, but by infighting and the ruler’s mistrust towards his own people and his ill-will to dominate.

5. When Meatbun wrote that Gu Mang was confused by the emperor’s carrot and stick strategy, Meatbun actually used the phrase “carrot and stick” in Chinese, which is amusing given that it’s an English expression used in ancient Chinese context. Talking about writing fantasy ancient China in the age of globalisation.

[lambdal4b]

I’m working on something, trust

[songtwo]

idk i think my bf might be developing a drinking problem and i just don’t know what to do…..

[sansaorgana]

hii 😊 can you please write benny x yn where she thinks he’s a player so she doesn’t want to give him a chance and go on a date with someone else and that drives him crazy and he does everything for her to see him differently, even asks kathy to put in a good word for him

hi! 💝 I know you sent it like 2 hours ago – I swear, I am not insane but I was itching so badly to write something about Benny that... it's already here 👀 as much as I adore the fics with innocent, sweet Readers – my Reader talks back 😇🤭 I hope it's fine 😘

[ I haven't abandoned the three requests from my inbox from the last time, I promise ]

requests for benny are open 🥺🎀

Benny Cross was an insufferable guy. He was showing up at your diner nearly every day and always asking for the same thing with the same smug smile on his pretty full lips – and always getting your annoyed eye-rolls each time. Yeah, he was pretty and you wouldn’t deny that. And yeah, you could see why so many girls saw the appeal. Bad boys were in fashion now… Well, actually, where had they not been? But you didn’t want to end up as a girl in trouble. Perhaps you were just an ordinary waitress but you still didn’t want to ruin your life for a player. And you couldn’t understand why he wanted you so badly.

“I think it’s because you turned him down,” Kathy explained to you the other day. She was your friend and recently she had also been strangely associated with Benny’s motorbike gang – The Vandals. Ever since her breakup, you could not recognise her, honestly.

“I turned him down, exactly,” you emphasised. “Why can’t guys learn that no means no?” You sighed.

“Oh, please, it must feel… Flattering to be chased by a guy like Benny, right?” Kathy giggled and you looked away, trying not to reveal that yeah, she was right.

“Listen, I just don’t want to end up like my cousin. She had a one night stand with this bad boy at college and guess what? She had to drop out, now she’s a single baby mama and the guy? God only knows where. Some say he married another chick in Nevada,” you explained to Kathy.

“But you’re not in college,” she pointed out as her eyes widened and you just rolled your eyes.

Jesus, what was going on with her these days?

You couldn't know that it was Benny himself telling her to "spread the propaganda" so you'd be more willing to finally agree to go out with him. You couldn't know that you were driving this man crazy – driving him crazier than his motorbike. He would wake up at night all sweaty and all he could think about was you.

You were a tough cookie and you were a challenge – that was for sure. But Benny knew it was more than that. He already knew that his desire would not disappear after claiming you. In fact, it would only grow once he'd get a taste. He was serious about you and he was desperate for you to see it.

When Marcus Lane asked you out, you were speechless. You were walking out of a flower store with a fresh bouquet to put on your grandfather’s grave and he whistled at you.

You turned around and raised an eyebrow at the guy leaning on his car. And God, what a car that was… A shiny, black Cadillac that made your eyes sparkle.

“Hi!” You waved at him. “You’re back from college,” you pointed out.

“Yeah,” he nodded at you and lit a cigarette. He offered you one but you shook your head. “Couldn’t wait to visit my neighbourhood. I’m staying with my ma until the end of summer,” he explained. “Then I got a job for myself in New York City,” he bragged so casually.

You had always thought he was full of himself and full of shit, too, but out of all the guys in your high school year he had been the one who would succeed most likely. Apparently, it was true. He was going places.

“And how’s Camilla?” You asked him.

“We broke up,” he winced. “What you doing tonight?”

You blinked a few times and fixed your skirt. Marcus Lane asking you out?

“Nothin’,” you answered and tilted your head.

“Wanna go and see a picture?” Marcus asked.

“Yeah!” You nodded, not even asking what picture.

“Still living with your ma?”

“Yeah,” you answered.

“I’ll pick you up at six,” he winked at you and you only nodded at him before walking away, not being able to hide a smile.

On your way back from the graveyard, you stopped by the laundry to tell Kathy the news but she didn’t look excited.

“He’s a knobhead, isn’t he? Always has been,” she shook her head.

“Wow, gee, thanks for being happy for me! You know he’s goin’ places and… He’s gonna be somebody,” you couldn’t help a grin.

“Don’t even start,” Kathy put her hands on her hips but you kept on a dreamy expression, so she snapped her fingers right in front of your face. “Guys like Marcus Lane do not date girls like us, wake up.”

“Why would he ask me out then?” You got defensive because your feelings and pride were hurt – mostly because you had a feeling Kathy was right.

“Because he’s back for the summer and bored? He saw you and thought he could play with you for a while before he leaves forever? Because he thinks a silly girl he remembers from high school might be an easy fuck for the summer?” Kathy asked and asked as your anxiety grew.

“Wow, thanks,” you got angry because you hated how right she could be. And sometimes you hated how honest she was instead of feeding your delusions. “I’m going out with him tonight and I’m not gonna sleep with him,” you told her before walking out to go back home and prepare for the night.

You wore a red polka dot top and tight jeans for the date instead of a dress. Marcus didn’t comment but he looked a little disappointed and you could see that on his face. He kept staring at your thighs as he drove you to the cinema, which increased your anxiety that Kathy could had been right indeed… More than you had expected.

You went to see Bonnie and Clyde and after the movie, Marcus insisted on taking you to a club in the neighbourhood. It was one of those places you would never go to alone but with a man around, you felt safer. At least you should feel this way. But something about Marcus was not right. Why would a proper guy like him even want to take you to a club like that? Perhaps because he was seeing you as a girl like that. You didn’t disagree, though. The idea of getting free drinks was tempting.

“Looks like some of those dirty bums have a meeting here tonight,” he murmured to himself as you walked inside and you sighed at the sight of The Vandals themselves.

The whole place was full of cigarette smoke and it stank of sweat, leather and grease.

“I hate those punks,” Marcus winced. “Sit here, I’ll get us something to drink,” he winked at you as he sat you down by one of the tables and you nodded,

He walked away, without even asking you what you wanted. You looked around, feeling out of place and then you spotted him… Benny Cross by the pool table. You quickly looked the other way but he glanced in your direction and smirked.

You pretended to be very fascinated by the posters on the wall but he sat by the table next to yours and kept grinning at you with his flashy smile, his muscles all on display as he rested his arms on the chair’s backrest.

Seeing you there, it made his heart skip a beat. And those tight blue jeans, that red top... Benny was smug for a moment, thinking that you finally decided to hang out with him. He had been inviting you to this club many times before.

However, he quickly realised that you weren' there alone. And the guy you came with made him feel sick in his stomach. Not only because he looked like a typical piece of shit that would take advantage of a girl like you... But also because this guy represented everything that Benny was not. And it was making him feel insecure at the moment. Of course your standards were higher than a guy like him. That was one of the reasons why he liked you so much.

Still, he decided to play his little game and annoy you a little.

Marcus came back with two drinks in his hand and he looked Benny up and down before placing a drink in front of you.

“That punk bothering you?” He asked – quite bravely, you had to admit. But Benny remained the same as if he was a statue.

“For weeks now,” you chuckled and watched Marcus take a seat in front of you, still glancing angrily at Benny on your right. 

“Is he stupid or somethin’?” Marcus asked.

“It’s fine. Let’s just pretend he’s not here,” you shrugged your arms.

In fact, you enjoyed it. And you wanted to pretend to like Marcus more than you did so Benny would finally realise you were not interested.

Still… You couldn’t help an odd feeling of safety now when he was sitting next to you and some part of you didn’t want him to walk away and leave you alone with Marcus.

“So, what do you think about the movie?” Marcus asked and sipped on his drink as you sipped on yours. Benny raised an eyebrow at you.

“We were in the cinema to watch Bonnie and Clyde,” you informed him quickly as if he was in the audience and you were an actress in the theatre but he was late and you wanted him to catch on. He nodded his head like a little boy and Marcus gritted his teeth. “Well,” you addressed your date now as you fixed your hair nonchalantly. “I adored it. And Warren Beatty was beautiful as always.”

“I don’t like him,” Marcus commented. “And I didn’t like the movie much. My favourite part was when they got killed.”

“Why?” You asked. It was already getting difficult to pretend to like him. And Benny seemed to be interested by his answer too – he tilted his head.

“Because they were outlaws and a couple of twisted psychos!” Marcus got irritated – at Benny still being there and at you asking such silly questions with such obvious answers.

“Yeah, they were but there’s also some romanticism to it, don’t you think? That’s why they made a movie about them. And why did you even go to see a movie about people you despise so much?” You asked and sipped on your drink again.

“You can’t be serious. There’s nothing romantic about murdering people,” Marcus started sounding very patronising and you suddenly realised that Kathy had been right. So, so much. You were a silly girl in his eyes.

“Murdering – no. But the life they had. The love, the freedom on the road,” you tried to explain.

“You want freedom on the road? Ask one of those bums here to show you,” Marcus laughed with irony and he squinted his eyes at Benny. “What you still doing here, punk? How can I get it into your thick head that you’re not a part of this conversation? It’s my date,” he scoffed.

“It’s my girl,” Benny leaned back with a smug smile and your heart skipped a beat.

Usually, when he’d call you that, you would get angry. But now, when Marcus had been annoying you for the whole evening, you actually enjoyed that. Because Marcus’ face was priceless. He looked at you with disgust.

“Is this true?” He asked you. “What the hell is going on?”

But before you could answer, some drunk and loud biker entered the club loudly as he laughed out loud.

“Fuck, I’ve scratched some Cadillac in the front!” He announced and sat by the counter to order beer. You couldn’t help but chuckle at that and Marcus’ face went as red as tomato.

He stood up rapidly, gave you a furious look and then ran outside to check on his beloved car, surely. Not caring much about the fact he was leaving you alone with dangerous men swarming around.

“So…” Benny started lazily as he licked his lips before looking you up and down. “That’s your type?” He pointed his thumb at the door Marcus had just left through. “That why you didn’t want me to take you out?”

“Why did you do that?” You asked, genuinely and his face got serious now.

“I saw you sittin’ here all alone, for a moment I thought… You came here for me,” he admitted with a laugh. “Then I saw that guy and I thought to myself: Jesus, what an asshole. So, I wanted to watch,” he shrugged his arms and you couldn’t help but stare at the flexing muscles and all the tattoos.

“He’s a proper guy. Graduated from college and with a job waiting for him in New York City,” you explained.

“But you’re not a proper girl,” Benny pointed out with a grin and you suddenly got a flashback of Kathy telling you the same thing – that you were just a silly girl for Marcus, just an easy fuck for the summer… 

You stood up rapidly and Benny looked up with a confused look on his face but you ignored him and left the club, hoping Marcus was still there and you could explain to him that you weren’t Benny’s girl… Maybe he’d drive you home?

But Marcus wasn’t there anymore. The only vehicles in the parking lot were motorbikes. You sighed and started walking in the direction of the bus stop but the door opened behind you. You heard heavy footsteps and then the sound of lighting a cigarette. Turning around slightly, you spotted Benny following you.

“Just wanted to point out that proper girls don’t find Bonnie and Clyde romantic,” with a few big steps he was now walking next to you.

“It’s not the murdering aspect, gee, why do I have to explain it so many times?” You got irritated.

“I didn’t say anything ‘bout it. You said something about the freedom and the road. You ever been on the open road like that?” Benny asked and you already knew what he wanted to propose because he had been mentioning it many times before while flirting with you at the diner.

“Fine,” you rolled your eyes. “I need a ride home,” you admitted and bit on your lower lip. “And no, I’ve never been. On the open road, I mean,” you added, feeling your cheeks heating up.

Benny didn’t say anything, he only nodded before throwing his cigarette on the ground and walking away to jump on his motorbike. He started the engine and patiently waited for you to finally join him. Feeling the rush of adrenaline going through your body, you clumsily sat behind him and he made the engine roar like a lion – a very sexy sound, you had to admit – but he didn’t start driving. You realised he was giving you a signal to hold onto something before he would drive away. It was considerate of him, you had to admit. Other guys would just drive away and laugh at your squealing. But Benny wanted you to be safe and for the second time on that night you realised that he was making you feel safe. Safer than a proper guy like Marcus – for sure. And you just didn’t know what to do with this information.

You wrapped your arms around his waist, told him your address and that was when the engine roared again but this time he drove away.

And God, something broke inside of you that moment. It was as if your brain chemistry changed completely. The speed, the wind in your hair, the freedom – this odd feeling that he could take you anywhere like this and you would go with him… To the point that when you spotted him taking a turn that led to your street, you nearly felt disappointed that he wasn’t “kidnapping” you. Perhaps in this moment you understood your cousin even – why had it been so tempting to risk everything for a handsome bad boy.

Benny parked the motorbike in front of your house and you could already spot your mum standing by the window upstairs and looking out through the curtain. You chuckled at the realisation you would have to explain to her how your date with Marcus ended with a guy like Benny taking you home.

“Thanks,” you only said as you got off the bike, still clinging to his leather jacket to make sure you wouldn’t trip and fall. You were a little breathless after that ride.

“And? What do you think?” He asked as he raised an eyebrow.

“It was… Okay,” you grinned, not wanting to give him satisfaction.

“Why do you tease me so much?” Benny sighed.

He was done with playing for now. He just wanted to know the answer. Perhaps it would finally make him give up. Or perhaps it would educate him on the matter how to flirt with you better. Either way, he just wanted the truth.

“Why do you insist so much? I mean, I ain’t nothing special to chase me around for weeks,” you shrugged your arms. “And don’t get me wrong – or actually do get me wrong, the hell do I care? – but I don’t want to be just another number in your book, Benny,” you explained and Benny thought to himself that he wished you could see yourself through his eyes.

“You’re a whole book, kitty,” he winked at you and you couldn’t help but chuckle at that. Sometimes his flirting had this effect on you whether you liked it or not. “And I can’t wait to read it all,” he added, encouraged by your reaction.

“You can read?” You asked, teasingly.

“I’m full of surprises,” he smirked.

“That I see,” you laughed. “Um… I should go now… My ma’s watching us.”

“I can see,” Benny nodded and looked up at the window upstairs. He waved his hand and you grabbed him by his wrist to pull it down.

“Stop it!” You kept laughing at him and then you realised your face was only a few inches away from his as he was still sitting on his motorbike, ready to drive away any given moment.

A short moment of silence occurred between you two and you just kept staring into each other’s eyes as playful smiles disappeared from your faces. You swallowed thickly and fixed his jacket, not knowing what to do with your hands.

“You have a shift tomorrow?” He broke the silence.

“In the evening,” you nodded.

“So… See you?” Benny asked, unsurely.

“See you,” you smiled at him and he smiled back, relieved. “And hey, thanks for… For being there for me when I was with the… With the asshole,” you lowered your voice and took a step back to give him space now – finally.

“No need to thank me,” he shrugged his arms. “It’s just the thing I do, ain’t it?”

You furrowed your brows at those words.

“Protectin’ my girl,” he winked at you and the engine roared, making you take a few more steps back. And then he drove away – just like that.

Shaking your head and hugging your own self to feel warmer, you walked to the front door of your house, biting on your lip and not being able to help a chuckle.

Apparently, Benny had already decided that you were his girl. And, apparently – you enjoyed it.

MASTERLIST || BENNY MASTERLIST

[penguininahottub]

This is, by no means, original thought. However, after the release of Beatles ‘64, I just want someone to make a Beatles film that is for us. Forget the mainstream and do what Cynthia said had never happened - people getting the emotion right instead of just the facts. The Beatles story isn’t a success story, it isn’t a rags to riches story, it isn’t an even a story about genius, it’s a story that has the power to change the world and one that will be told for ever. We are living in an era where we get to witness a myth being made and so in tribute to the oral tradition, we need to be the myth-makers. Someone needs to tell the story. I hope it will be Paul. I fear it won’t. Perhaps he can’t or shouldn’t, perhaps he won’t be believed. He definitely won’t be if everyone, including him, keeps recycling the same tropes. We know there’s no new stuff to be created, but there is a new light to be shed on what we know is there. This is beginning to sound a bit like the discovery of the Book of Mormon. No one needs another religion, but we do need is for someone to actually attempt to approach this seismic cultural event with an honest and open perspective.

Yoko allowed John to believe he was the genius. John’s canonisation (his manufactured image does him no favours) means that we can forget that Paul was the revered one in the 60s. He was the chosen one - in every way. John clocked it at their very first meeting.

“I half thought to myself, He’s as good as me, I’d been kingpin up to then. Now, I thought, if I take him on, what will happen?”- John

He took a risk, he made his choice and then never again believed in his own ultimate superiority. The story he’d told himself growing up, was that nobody was capable of spotting his genius because they were all below him. Surely a trauma response to being abandoned by his parents. Never could stand to be ignored, forever desperate to be seen and yet incapable of taking off the armour of cruelty. Look at me! Paul was the same, not armour but a wall of charm. Underneath John was soft and Paul is that almost impenetrable wall. They let each other in, and each betrayed the other. Those instincts of self-preservation that John spoke about.

Anyway, he took the chance on Paul, because he wanted to be somebody and Paul and him together made that a real possibility. Also, Paul was fucking hot and clever and talented. He was also a non-conforming weirdo who made everything look effortless and wouldn’t join John’s gang and wouldn’t let him lead. I wonder if this was Paul knowing, from the first moment of seeing John as was then confirmed by subsequent sightings and (I suspect) recces, strategically carried out to observe John (oh that bus worship carries some significance beyond an appreciation for public transport), that he knew how to handle John. Handle and manage John, in order to make him his very own.

(Is it him? Does it matter, because Paul has told us he “noticed” John many times, even before the chocolate bar.)

But, all the Paul adulation, especially John’s own uncontrollable, unconditional veneration, got to be too much. He couldn’t keep his jealousy in check. No quantity of material objects, women, money, food, fame soothed the ache for long enough. He thought Yoko, and because I am sure this is what Yoko promised him, was the only person who would always be in awe of him. She wasn’t, and the really tragic part is that Paul was from the jump, he still is and his faith never waivered.

If only they’d been able to maintain the connection and never lose the ability to read each other’s minds.

They burned too brightly. They loved too hard.

[dearieshima]

MOONLIT DREAM

✦ SUMMARY

╰┈➤ Based on Zayne's Moonlit Dream card, but expanded. Zayne and you are transported back to the Qing Dynasty by a jade pendant infused with protocore energy after it activates unexpectedly in Zayne's car. Reunited after being separated, you both set out to recover the pendant and return home, leading you to a skilled but strict jade craftsman.

"I pride myself on my thoroughness," he added, his voice now a deep, sensual rumble. "I promise I won't miss a single detail."

✦ C.W

╰┈➤ AFAB!reader, a little nibbling, some boob worship (f. receiving), teasing, switch!zayne, fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, a little roleplay with Zayne's status, praises, 4000+ words, idk public sex maybe, established relationship

As the sun began its slow descent, casting warm hues across the sky, Zayne decided to skip class, inviting you to a secluded picnic on the hillside, just beyond the city's edge. The air was fragrant with the scent of wildflowers, and time seemed to stretch lazily, each moment steeped in tranquility. You both lingered there, speaking in hushed tones as the world around you softened, the village fading into the distance like a dream.

The day gently gave way to the cold of dusk and Zayne’s modest home, nestled within his shifu’s Siheyuan, beckoned you back with warmth. The evening sky, now awash in the twilight’s embrace, slowly surrendered to the rising moon. Its soft, pale glow spilled across the landscape, transforming everything into silvered stillness.

After sharing a quiet dinner, you wandered together to the riverbank, where Zayne’s work table stood. Scattered across its weathered surface were fragments of jade and a small carving knife. Your gaze drifted to a jade pendant, rutty yet holding a quiet charm.

The pendant was rough and dulled in its crevices as you traced the intricate patterns with your fingers. Curiosity tugged at you, “Zayne, can I try?”

Half-expecting a gentle refusal, to your surprise, Zayne stepped aside, offering you the knife. “Go ahead then.”

Settling into his lap, you tried to mimic his movements from earlier, the jade cool beneath your fingers. Your hands fumbled awkwardly and it made you look like you were sharpening the knife sgainast the rock, when Zayne’s warm fingers enveloped yours, steadying them.

"Here, you need to use a little more force," he murmured softly, his breath warm against your ear. “Try again.”

As you grew more confident, he quietly let go, allowing you to work on your own. Minutes drifted by in the soft silence of the riverbank, where the boats occasionally knocked together, their gentle echoes lulling the air. You’d long since abandoned the pendant, drawn instead to the lake, dipping your feet into its cool waters as you gazed at the rising moon through its reflection.

“Do you think there's a moon as beautiful as this watching over Linkon right now?” you mused, your voice soft as the night, turning to look at Zayne.

His head was supported on his hand, eyes once cradling hazel nebulas, now sealed in peaceful slumber. He was propped facing you, as though he had watched you until sleep claimed him.

With a mischievous smile, you scooted near him and reached for the ink brush on his table and lightly trailed its tip down the bare skin of his chest, revealed by his loosely draped robe. His breath hitched, a shiver coursing through him at the gentle stroke. It was only when the brush dipped toward his stomach that he stirred, his hand catching yours in a swift yet lazy motion, his eyes fluttering open with a smile that matched the moon’s glow.

"Someone gets distracted easily between carving jade and admiring the moon," he teased, drawing you into his lap.

You laughed, wriggling in his hold, but Zayne wouldn’t let you go. In a playful tumble, you both fell together, with Zayne landing gently on top of you. His weight was warm, grounding, and for a moment, you simply stared into each other’s eyes, the world around you fading. Almost caught in a trance, you let go of the brush that was hanging from your hand over the patio, feeling the tiny splash kiss your fingers.

With a subtle motion, his fingers intertwined with your newly-found free hand, warm and steady, sending a shiver down your spine. You wrapped your legs around Zayne's waist, pulling him closer, feeling the heat of his body against yours. His breath quickened, and a soft chuckle escaped his lips. "During this period," he murmured, his voice teasingly casual, "the only practice in protection was abstinence."

"Really?" you purred, your voice low and sultry.

He shifted his weight, his body pressing firmly against yours, the heat between you discernible. His fingers traced a delicate path down your arm, forcing your sleeves to ball downwards. "Yes," he murmured. “Abstinence was considered the only effective birth control and prevention for sexually transmitted infections.”

"Interesting," you breathed, your eyes lowering to meet his desire flickering in their depths. "And why is Dr. Zayne enlightening me on this?"

"Consider it an added benefit of my profession,” Zayne said, his voice dropping to a seductive whisper. His fingers continued to trace your skin, each touch igniting a fire within you. "As a doctor, I should make sure my patients are well-versed in the dangers of reckless sex,”

His fingers trailed back upwards to the pulse on your wrist. “And as a gentleman, I'm being cautious. But—"

His gaze darkened, a smoldering desire burning in his eyes.

"As a man, I'm testing the limits of my own restraint," he murmured.

"...Your shifu won't be too thrilled if you fail to hand over the finished pendant tomorrow."

"Then perhaps,” he murmured, his voice lowering to a sensuous tone before lifting off of you, “As a craftsman, I should direct my focus on finishing that pendant."

You pouted, your lips forming a perfect pucker as you reached out and grabbed him by the scruff of his neckline. The fabric of his shirt bunched up in your fingers as you pulled him closer, your eyes locked on his. With a sudden burst of passion, you pressed your lips against his, the softness of your mouth contrasting with the firmness of your grip.

Zayne's breath hitched in surprise at your boldness, his body tensing for a moment before relaxing into your embrace. He returned your kiss with equal fervor, his lips parting slightly as they moved against yours. His hands found your hips, fingers digging into the fabric of your clothes as he pulled you flush against him. You could feel the heat of his body radiating through your clothing, igniting a fire within you.

His tongue darted out, tracing the contours of your lower lip with a feather-light touch. The warmth of his breath mingled with yours, sending a tingle down your spine. His eyes, dark with desire, locked onto yours, silently asking for permission to deepen the connection.

Parting your lips, you welcomed his tongue into your mouth. A low groan rumbled in his chest as your fingers threaded through his hair, tugging lightly. The slight sting only fueled his growing arousal. Zayne's lips parted against yours as his tongue explored your mouth. He groaned softly as your fingers threaded through his hair, tugging lightly. His hands gripped your hips tighter, his fingers digging into your flesh as if he was afraid you might transform into water the next moment and slip through his hands.

As you both broke out of the kiss, gasping for air, you couldn't help but use your first gasp to call out Zayne's name.

The sound sent a jolt of electricity coursing through him, his arms encircling you tighter, almost involuntarily. You felt his nose press against the dip of where your shoulders and neck connect and giggled as his harsh exhales tickled you. His lips trail a hot path along your jawline, like hot wildfires spreading across it. When he reaches your neck, he nips at the sensitive skin, his voice a deep, husky murmur. "You're making this difficult," he confesses, his breath hot against your skin.

"Then should I make it easy?" You murmured as you hooked your finger over the open neckline of your robe. The anticipation was visible, and you knew that Zayne was watching your every move.

Slowly, you began to pull the fabric down, revealing the center of your chest where your breasts parted. The cool air against your newly exposed skin sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn't help but let out a soft gasp.

Zayne's eyes darkened with desire as he watched the fabric slide over your skin. His throat constricted, the dryness making it difficult to swallow, and he had to force his Adam's apple to bob, trying to regain control of his body's reaction.

His gaze, now heavy with hunger, lingered on the newly exposed flesh, as if tracing the landscape of your body, feeling himself get lost in the soft, inviting curves of your breasts, parted like two lush mountains on opposite sides of a valley. The peaks, hardened from the cold, were a delicate shade of rose, as if a secret garden of roses bloomed at their tips. Each breath you took sent shivers through your body, causing the peaks to quiver, as if tiny earthquakes were tearing through these mountains.

Zayne's mind drifted, imagining the weight of your breasts in his hands, the softness of your skin against his calloused fingertips. His imagination painted vivid pictures, each more explicit than the last, until he could almost feel your nipples hardening further under his touch.

Slowly, Zayne reached out, his fingers trembling with anticipation as they brushed against your skin, sending shivers through you. He cupped one breast, feeling the softness envelop his hand, and then the other, savoring the contrast between the warmth of your body. Your arms lingered above your head, curling into fists as you allowed him to do whatever he pleased with your body.

Zayne's heart raced as his fingers explored the curves of your breasts, tracing the delicate lines and contours that made your body uniquely yours. He could feel the heat radiating from your skin, a stark contrast to the coolness of his own. As he gently squeezed, he marveled at the way your flesh yielded to his touch, soft and pliant beneath his fingertips.

"You're beautiful." He squeezed them in his hands once more before lowering his head to take one nipple into his mouth.

He sucked gently, the soft pull of his lips causing you to arch your back and moan softly. Zayne switched to the other nipple, repeating the tender ministrations, reveling in your responsiveness. He trailed kisses down to the center of your chest, turning his head slightly to nip at the swell of the breast.

"Your pulse has picked up," he murmured, his voice low and gruff.

The deep timbre of his voice resonated within you, making your heart race even faster. "I would be nervous if it didn’t," you said, your voice coming out breathier than you intended. "Yours did too."

“I wonder why that could be," he said, his voice laced with mock innocence.

"You're the heart doctor, you tell me why."

A slow smile spread across Zayne's face at your choice of words. "’Heart doctor’?" he drawled. "Yes, as a heart doctor, it could be because we're sitting so close together," he murmured, his voice dripping with innuendo. "Or it could be that I'm thinking about how you look right now, underneath me."

He shifted closer still, his body pressing against you more than before. "It's hard to say," he added softly, his breath warm against your neck. "Without a thorough evaluation, of course.”

"Evaluation?" you whispered, maintaining a playful tone. "That sounds scary."

Zayne's warm breath tickled your neck as he smiled. "Don't worry," he murmured, his voice low and soothing. "It's nothing you haven't gone through before."

His hand on your hip slowly gilded upwards, finally fully parting the two sides of the silky robe that had been hiding your curves. The cool air caressed your exposed skin, sending a shiver down your spine. His thumb shifted lower, rubbing against the soft, sensitive skin of your abdomen, inching ever closer to the bundle of nerves below.

"I pride myself on my thoroughness," he added, his voice now a deep, sensual rumble. "I promise I won't miss a single detail."

Zayne noticed the subtle change in your breathing, and the way your eyes darted away from his. A soft, dark chuckle escaped his throat. "You're getting shy now," he teased, his hand slowly making its way down your body.

His strong, calloused fingers gently gripped your chin, tilting your face up to meet his intense, smoldering gaze. His dark eyes bore into yours, demanding your full attention. "No hiding," he murmured, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine. "Look at me while I touch you."

His command was both thrilling and intimidating. You couldn't look away even if you wanted to. Your heart raced as he slowly, deliberately, pushed one long finger inside you. The sudden intimate invasion made you gasp and arch your back. He watched your every reaction, drinking in the way your body responded to his touch.

"That's it," he encouraged, his finger sliding deeper, stroking along your inner walls. He added a second finger, pumping them slowly, teasingly. His thumb found your sensitive clit, circling it maddeningly.

You were panting now, your hips rocking instinctively against his hand. Pleasure built inside you with each thrust of his fingers, each brush of his thumb.

He added his third finger to your tight space, the forefinger. He quickly put it to work, pushing it deeper and curling it just so to hit that perfect spot within you that made stars explode behind your eyelids.

You whimpered, your thighs trembling with the effort of keeping them spread wide for him. The obscene squelch of his fingers pumping in and out of your dripping cunt filled the room, mingling with your needy moans. "Keep looking at me," he commanded, his voice a low, gravelly whisper. You looked back into his eyes, swirling with lust.

Zayne held your gaze, his eyes intense and unwavering. "Good," he murmured, his movements slow, methodical, almost torturous.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your skull as waves of pleasure coursed through your body. "Are you still with me?" he murmured, a hint of a tease in his voice.

"Yes," you groaned, your voice thick with desire. You weren't sure if it was an abrupt groan or a response to his question, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was the feeling of his hands on your body, igniting a fire within you.

Zayne lifted an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I fear I might’ve lost the patient. I think I should check her vitals," he whispered, his voice low and rough. His free hand found its way trailing up your body with deliberate slowness.

He pressed his palm firmly against your chest, feeling the rapid, fluttering beat of your heart beneath his touch. "Mmm, listen to that," he murmured, his voice low and husky. "Your heart is racing, thundering against my hand. It's like a wild animal, desperate to break free."

Your skin was hot to the touch, flushed with arousal and need. He could feel the heat radiating off you in waves, could see the way your chest heaved with each ragged breath. "You're so responsive," he breathed, marveling at the way your body reacted to even the slightest touch. "Every inch of you is alive, quivering, aching for more,"

As if to prove his point, your legs suddenly clamped down around his hand, your muscles tensing and quivering as you teetered on the brink of release

"All signs of a healthy woman.”

He could feel your body trembling, your muscles tensing as you teetered on the brink of ecstasy. With a final, gentle touch, he sent you over the edge. Your body arched, back bowing as the pleasure crashed over you like a tidal wave. A groan escaped your lips, his name falling from them like a prayer as you surrendered to the intense sensations. He held you close, his strong arms supporting you as your body shook with the force of your climax.

He slowly withdrew his fingers, a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth. "You're in perfect health," he said, amusement lacing his tone.

You huffed, breathless, your chest heaving as Zayne's lips trailed searing kisses along the column of your throat.

Zayne chuckled at your huff, his touch growing gentler as he traced patterns on the skin of your hip. He lifted you up, moving to sit with his back against the siheyuan walls, his legs stretched out before him.

You gasped softly as your fingers brushed against the prominent bulge straining against Zayne's jeans. "You're hard," you breathed, a delicious shiver running down your spine at the realization of how much he wanted you.

A deep, rumbling chuckle vibrated through Zayne's chest at your words, unnatural to his vocabulary. "I know," he murmured, his lips grazing the sensitive skin of your neck. "You can blame that on you."

His teeth caught your earlobe, tugging gently before soothing the sting with his tongue. Your head fell back, granting him better access as your pulse raced beneath his lips.

"I can help," you offered breathlessly, even as you knew Zayne was notoriously strict about safe sex. His hips rolled forward, grinding his hard length against your core, and you couldn't help but moan. "Please, Zayne... I want you.”

Zayne chuckled again, his hands squeezing your hips ever so slightly. "You're getting bold," he murmured, his lips brushing against your jawline. He pulled back slightly to look at you, his expression a mix of amusement and desire.

"I can take a Plan B when we return to Linkon," you said with a playful pout.

Zayne's jaw grew taut, his grip tight on your hips. He was clearly struggling with the temptation you were offering. "We shouldn't," he said, a hoarse whisper against your neck.

But his body betrayed him, his hands roaming further up your body, trailing up and down your back. He was clearly very tempted.

You straightened and kissed him, luring him in. Zayne groaned, his resolve slipping as you kissed him. His hands came up to cup your face, his fingers gently tracing the curves of your features. He hesitated for a few more seconds, his eyes locked with yours, before he finally caved.

Zayne groaned as you sat in his lap, his hands gripping onto your hips. The sudden heat and friction sent a jolt through him, he swallowed another groan, his breathing becoming shallow.

He kissed a trail down your jaw, his teeth grazing against your skin as he reached your neck. His body grew taut, every part of him screaming for contact.

His robe hanged loosely around his shoulders and with a slow, deliberate motion, he let the silky fabric slide off his body, revealing his muscular form inch by tantalizing inch. His chest rose and fell with each ragged breath, his eyes burning with a desire so intense it could ignite a wildfire.

As the robe pooled around his waist, you couldn't help but let your gaze wander over his perfectly sculpted body, taking in every detail. The way his abs rippled with each breath, the defined lines of his pectorals, and the powerful thighs that could easily pin you down in a heartbeat.

With a gentle touch, you reached out to help him remove the last remnants of his clothing, your fingers brushing against his warm skin. Zayne's hands found their way to your thighs, sliding up.

His hands, slick with your arousal, reveled in the warmth of your skin beneath them. His gaze traveled over your exposed body, taking in every curve and dip, his eyes darkening with each passing second.

Without hesitation, you reached for his thick, pulsing cock, guiding it to your entrance. You felt the tip brush against your slick folds, and with a slow, deliberate motion, you entered him. Zayne's breath caught in his throat, a low, guttural groan escaping as you claimed him. His fingers dug into your hips, trying to maintain control, but the pleasure was too overwhelming, and he failed.

Your eyes met his, both of you lost in the haze of lust and desire. Zayne's pupils were blown wide, his breathing coming out in ragged gasps. The room was filled with the wet slap of your bodies connecting, and the guttural moans that escaped both of your lips.

You began to move, setting a slow, sensual rhythm. Zayne's feet were firmly planted on the patio so he could thrust his hips forward to meet yours, his thick length stretching you in the most delicious way. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, building and building and building until you thought you might combust from the sheer intensity of it all.

Zayne's hands roamed your body, caressing every inch of your skin as if memorizing it. His lips found your neck once more, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along the column of your throat. You tilted your head back, giving him better access, a breathy moan escaping your lips as his teeth grazed your pulse point.

The open night was filled with the sounds of your lovemaking, the slick sound of your bodies connecting, and the symphony of moans and gasps that spilled from your lips. It was primal, raw, and utterly intoxicating.

Zayne's movements became more erratic, his thrusts harder and deeper as he chased his release. You could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter within him, his body trembling with the effort of holding back. His hands gripped your hips even tighter, his fingers digging into your flesh as he pulled you closer, burying himself deeper inside you.

"Hah,"

You could feel your own release approaching again, the pleasure building with each passing second. Your body tensed, your muscles coiling like a spring ready to snap.

As Zayne's body shuddered with the force of his release, his hot seed spilling deep inside you, you felt your own climax crash over you like a tidal wave. Your body convulsed, your walls clenching around him as a wave after wave of intense pleasure washed over you. You cried out his name, your voice raw and primal, lost in the throes of ecstasy.

Zayne held you closer, his arms wrapped around you, his face buried in the crook of your neck as he rode out the aftershocks of his orgasm. His breath came in ragged gasps, his heart pounding against your chest. You could feel the warmth of his shin, slick with sweat, pressed against yours.

The man's breath came in ragged gasps, his broad chest heaving with each shuddering inhale. You'd never seen him like this before - usually so composed and in control, but now he trembled against you, his powerful body wracked with the aftershocks of intense pleasure. His hair was mussed, dark strands falling across and sticking to his forehead in tousled waves.

He kept his face buried in the crook of your neck, his fuzzy jawline, from the days he spent here, scraping deliciously against your sensitive skin. His eyes were pinched shut, long lashes fanning out against his cheeks as he tried to regain his bearings.

"I'll... I'll accompany you to the pharmacy store," he managed to get out between labored breaths, his deep voice slightly hoarse.

You let out a soft sigh, your fingers unconsciously scratching and massaging the back of his head. Your own body still hummed with residual pleasure, your mind floating pleasantly in the clouds. "Okay," you whispered, a small smile playing on your lips.

Swallowing thickly, you gathered your courage and uttered the three words that had been on the tip of your tongue. "I love you."

The man's eyes fluttered open at your declaration, his dark gaze meeting yours with an intensity that took your breath away. A slow, tender smile spread across his handsome face, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

"I love you too," he murmured, his voice low and filled with emotion. He pressed a gentle kiss to your temple before reluctantly pulling back to look at you fully.

His hands came up to cup your face, thumbs stroking your cheeks with a reverence that made your heart swell. "You're incredible, you know that?" he said softly, his eyes roaming over your features as if memorizing every detail. "I'm the luckiest man in the world to have you by my side."

The jade pendant rests quietly in its box.

The old craftsman lifts it, his weathered hands gentle yet precise. His brow furrows, and for the first time, you catch a flicker of unease in Zayne's eyes, a vulnerability that rarely escapes him.

“Hmmm…” the craftsman murmurs, turning the pendant between his fingers. “The edges… a little rough. The details, perhaps, not as fine as they could be.”

Yet, even in his critique, a softness lingers in his gaze, a glimmer of admiration woven into his stern words. He pauses, studying the pendant as if searching for the heart of its creation. “Did you remember what I told you? To steady your hand… clear your mind… as you carved this?”

You glance at Zayne, and in that brief exchange, a shared warmth passes between you, but neither of you can hold the moment for long. Your eyes drop, averting away from each other in sudden shyness.

The old jade craftsman, wiser than you both, sighs, the weight of years in his voice. “Ah, nevermind. Take it back. I cannot keep it… for it was shaped from love, and that cannot be sold.”

[dr5amatic]

IN THE ASHES ,

a sentence starter prompts list comprised of quotes from the novel an ember in the ashes by sabaa tahir. please be advised that this list may involve topics including, but not limited to, murder, death, and violence. change verbiage as needed.

why do keep disappearing when i need you?

i wasn't spying.

what you saw is dangerous. you can't tell anyone about it. not ever.

keep your secrets close, love.

i'm not working for them.

don't be afraid [name], i won't let anything happen to you.

what are you doing down here?

much as i hate to admit it, you're not usually wrong.

the field of battle is my temple.

the dance of death is my prayer.

the killing blow is my release.

aren't you a pretty one.

who trained you?

keep it safe for me just until i come back.

unless you're stupider than you look, even you can see how this appears.

you worked hard. you did everything right.

go, [name]. go get some air. i'll handle this.

the ghosts of our misdeeds seek vengeance, but the cost will be high.

you are an ember in the ashes, [name]. you will spark and burn, ravage and destroy. you cannot change it. you cannot stop it.

we don't abandon our own!

who do you want me to spy on?

shadows will bloom in your heart and you will become everything you hate.

so my choices are either to stay and be evil or run and be evil. wonderful.

they always underestimate me.

this isn't a mission for the fainthearted.

go away. you're not real.

you're distracted when you can ill afford to be.

if you want to win this, you need to wake up.

i've already wasted too much time cleaning up your messes.

lay low. don't risk spying until you're certain you won't get caught.

fail me again, and we're done.

these are my friends, my family. people i know. i wouldn't hurt them.

how do i make it stop? i have to make it stop.

until you conquer your fear, the dead will remain with you.

i won't kill you. i swear it. by blood and bone, i swear it.

you're going to be fine. i'm going to fix you right up.

fight, [name]. you have to fight. you have to win.

death before tyranny.

if what you say is true, then the balance is upset, and we must restore it.

you look terrible. come into the shade.

you really should run. you’re just going to die.

wait, you idiot! it might be a trap!

i won’t let you fall, i promise.

i want you to know that i think what you’re doing is brave. really brave.

it’s not a stupid idea, just dangerous. i don’t want you getting hurt.

you’re trying to sneak out.

i wouldn’t have traded this for anything.

i live with my sins everyday. i live with the guilt.

i’ve never asked you for anything. i’m asking you now.

you think i can’t defend myself? you think i need bodyguards?

i’ve been distracted worrying about you.

i’ll kill him for this.

don’t talk. just keep quiet and… let me think.

you’re in love with me! but i'm not in love with you, and you hate me for it. you’ve let that ruin our friendship.

i could never be in love with you.

you have no idea what I’ve given up for you, the deal i made. 

who did this?

look at you–look what they’ve done to you.

you don’t have to be brave.

do you have what i want?

i have something, but i need more time.

if you have nothing, then this mission is a failure.

don’t have time for that. I’ve got other things on my mind.

if i wanted to hurt you, i’d already have done it.

as long as there is life, there is hope.

either way, you’d have blamed yourself.

either way, people you cared about would have suffered.

i should have stayed, even if it meant dying.

they won’t let you have compassion or kindness. they won’t let you have a soul.

my soul’s gone. I killed it dead on that battlefield.

there are two kinds of guilt. the kind that’s a burden and the kind that gives you purpose. 

you have a soul. it’s damaged, but it’s there. don’t let them take it from you.

you don’t need to be so cat-footed. i’m not armed.

you’re surprised? you’re naïve, is what you are. you’re a fool.

you’re sick. don’t you have any regret? any remorse?

i’ll celebrate them. i’ll mourn them. but i won’t regret what i did. i did it for the empire. i did it for my people.

don’t make vows when you can’t know their cost.

i crossed a line, and i won’t cross it again.

do you know what i do to spies?

be strong. if you don’t win this, everything is lost.

i will be your blood shrike, your second-in-command, the sword that executes at your will, until death. i swear it.

in the night, your loneliness crushes you, as if the sky itself has swooped down to smother you in its cold arms.

there is nothing of me that is worth anything.

tell me, or i slit your throat here and now.

you’ll pay for this. i swear it to the skies, to the stars. you’ll pay.

just because he’s a good leader doesn’t mean he’s a good person. he lied to you.

for the first time since i can remember, i don’t feel alone. because of you.

i can’t–i can’t stop thinking about you. i’ve tried not to. i tried to push you out.

i’ll take care of everything. i promise.

the moment i knew you existed, i hated you.

if i feel regret, it’s that i wasn’t willing to die sooner.

i’d rather die than live with no mercy, no honor, no soul.

fear is only your enemy if you allow it to be.

too much fear an you’re paralyzed. too little fear and you’re arrogant.

i’ll watch your back if you watch mine. we can make it if we stick together.

[minnieminshi]

Pucking Chemistry

Summary: You never should’ve agreed to tutor the captain of the hockey team. Who shows up a full hour after the agreed meeting time? Choi Seungcheol, apparently as you’ve come to learn. And now you’re stuck tutoring him because for some reason, you're his last hope to pass chemistry so he’s eligible to play in an upcoming tournament. 

Warnings: cursing because I can’t help myself lol, mentions of your father abandoning the family (it's minor and only mentioned like once)

Word Count: 9.9K (I was possessed lol)

Extra info: high school setting, Cheol uses the term "princess" a lot and I'm a sucker for calling people by their last name, mentions of Monsta X’s I.M (aka Changkyun) and Kard’s Somin (but she gets mentioned like once lol), your little brother’s name never gets mentioned but you do call him Frosty lol, and my knowledge of hockey is limited to watching Dr. Mike on yt talk about hockey injuries so there’s not a whole lot of hockey action in this fic lmao.

Author's Note: this fic made me realize my little brother is turning 13 this year and I can’t handle that because what do you mean he’s a teen now he literally turned one the other day and I think that shows in this fic lol. Also if I only count the days I actually sat down to write this fic it only took me 3 days lol, but I had 3 tests this week and had to be productive so that nerfed me. This is also the first fic I'm posting in this app so bare with me lol and in honor of Scoups and Jeonghan getting cleared to return to activities, I present the beginning of this series

Sporteen Masterlist

Sitting in the school’s library, all your chemistry notes laid out, you began to rethink agreeing to tutor the school’s hockey captain, Choi Seungcheol. With another glance to your phone, you sighed, ten minutes passed what the two of you agreed to meet at. If you didn’t like your chemistry teacher as much as you do, you would have never agreed to do this. 

He’s a sweet guy, I’m sure he won’t give you any problems!

But it’s only ten minutes and sometimes things come up. Maybe he’d walk in after a few more minutes and then you two could finally start. 

Except those ten minutes slowly morphed into thirty minutes, forty five minutes, and now suddenly it’s an hour and not a single word from Choi Seungcheol about where the hell he’s at.

And while having to wait an hour for someone to show up to something they needed sucked, that’s not what pissed you off. What pissed you off was the fact that after this tutoring session, you had a date with Changkyun, set up by your friend Somin, but thanks to the no show Choi Seungcheol, you’d have to rush home, get your little brother ready for the evening and get ready for your date. And while you could hypothetically get everything done in time, you would prefer it if you didn’t have to rush. Your little brother’s probably gonna complain about his quick dinner of chicken nuggets and macaroni after you promised him yesterday you’d make him what he called an “actual meal.” You reminded him that he was twelve and fully capable of cooking for himself and suddenly the quick meal was the best thing he’s ever eaten. 

So he could survive a rushed meal, however getting ready for your date was a different story. Rushing to get ready in the morning for school was one thing. You could halfass an outfit and get your brother out the door in fifteen minutes flat if your mom was already at work, but you needed a little more time to actually look good enough for someone who wasn’t related to you or hasn’t seen you slumped over your desk with textbooks and notes sprawled all over the floor. 

Now, because of Choi Seungcheol, you’d have to rush, something you wished wouldn’t happen. 

“Sweet guy my ass,” you mutter under your breath as you begin shoving your things into your backpack. Just as you finished shoving the last textbook into your backpack, a deep voice caught you off guard before you rolled your eyes.  

“Where’re you going princess, aren’t you gonna tutor me?” 

Oh? 

Letting out a low chuckle, you turn to face the captain who you wished you could smack that smirk off his face and crossing your arms over your chest, you leaned against the table. “Tutor you? I agreed to tutor you an hour ago, and since that’s passed, I’m heading home to go enjoy my evening.” 

As you turned around to grab your backpack and go home, you felt a hand on your shoulder. You looked up to see him holding onto you, a hesitant look in his eyes. Your brows furrowed as you shook his hand off. 

“Look, I’m sorry about being late, but something came up.” He muttered, his hand falling to his side as he shoved his hands into the front pocket of his hoodie. You scoffed as you shouldered your bag. “Too busy to send a heads up?” 

You look up to see a light blush dust his cheeks as he looks away from you, and if you weren’t so pissed at him, you’d find him kinda cute. 

“I’m sorry.” 

You sighed as you glance at the clock on the wall, and with a sigh, you turn to the hockey player. “Look, I have plans so I can give you 45 minutes.” 

“Forty five minutes? That’s barely any time to learn anything,” he complained with a small pout on his lips as you rolled your eyes. “Take it or leave it Choi, you’re the one who was late.” 

He let out a small huff before agreeing to the terms, pulling out a chair as you pulled out your phone, setting an alarm for exactly 45 minutes. Thankfully tutoring him wasn’t terrible, he actually seemed to listen to you and he even took notes while you explained the most recent lesson to him. Maybe if he was kind enough to send a message earlier you might actually feel bad about leaving, but alas that wasn’t the case. 

With the default alarm ringing, you began packing up your things once again, this time, really just throwing everything with no regard as to how things landed in your bag. With a little speeding you should be able to make it home in about fifteen minutes which gives you about ten minutes to make your brother’s dinner and have about thirty minutes to get ready for your date. Perfect timing as long as you leave right now. 

Just as you begin to walk away, pulling up your little brother’s contact to tell him you’re on your way, Seungcheol calls you out. “Are we still good for next week?” You freeze, slowly turning to look at him as your phone rings. “Next week? Listen Choi, I think it’s best if you find someone else to tutor you.”

Before he can say anything, you cut him off. “Listen, I have things to take care of after school and I can’t wait for over an hour, wondering if you’ll show up. I’ll tell Ms. Park to find someone else and we don’t have to worry about seeing each other again.” With that, you walk out the library, your little brother having finally picked up and making things easier for you as he grabbed all the food you told him to. 

Looks like things will be going back to normal after today, no more having to worry about Choi Seungcheol. 

Or so you thought. 

What you didn’t expect to see when coming to pick up your little brother from his little hockey club practice is Choi Seungcheol out on the ice, with your little brother excitedly talking to him about who knows what. 

You internally groan, why, just why did he have to be the one to coach your little brother’s team. And why did you have to say you’d never see him again, it’s like you were asking for the universe to play a cruel prank on you by making sure this would happen to you. 

Weeks ago, when your little brother asked you if you could start taking him to a hockey club he joined every Saturday, you didn’t see any issue with it initially. As long as he had the proper gear (that your guys’ mom provided) you thought it was great he found a sport he enjoyed after he burned through basketball, soccer, tennis, and baseball in a matter of a few years. Plus it meant you could have Saturday to yourself for a few hours while everyone else was out of the house. So a win-win in your book. 

Or so it was a win before you were left in disbelief, standing off to the side as you watched him talk to Seungcheol. You shook your head, calling out his name as you made your way to the plexiglass wall, wanting to go home. You made the rookie mistake of walking into the rink with no jacket, thinking it would be a quick run of picking him up and going back home. How foolish of you to think things would work out for you. 

You let out a small gasp as you made eye contact with your little brother, holding it for a few seconds, only to have him ignore you and continue to talk to his coach, who you knew was aware of your presence. You groan, grounding the heels of your palms into your eyes. Oh how you wished you were an only child in moments like this. Instead you were cursed to be a big sister to a little brother who made your life oh so difficult. 

Calling out his name one more time, he finally looked over at you and started to make his way off the rink. You sighed, thankful you weren’t going to have to resort to actually going out on the ice to drag him out. 

“Took you long enough, I’m freezing over here,” you said once he was at the wall, carefully stepping onto the non-frozen ground with his skates. “That’s on you for not bringing a jacket into the rink.” 

“And that’s on you when all you get for dinner is a slice of bread,” you say when you hand him his sneakers that he had put on the seats before practice had started, and where his backpack was. “Can’t believe you feed me like I’m some paperboy from the 1900s,” he grumbled, but he took the shoes. 

Before you could shoot back a reply, Seungcheol skates up to the wall, a smirk on his face. You roll your eyes, wishing he’d go back to doing figure eights or whatever the hell he does on the ice. He calls out your name but you choose to pretend you don’t hear him, instead leaning down to grab your brother’s backpack, a small groan leaving your lips from the sheer weight in his bag. It’s like he carries rocks in this thing, you complain as you shoulder the bag. He shoots you a look as if asking why are you carrying my backpack, but he doesn’t question it, you know the whole gift horse saying. 

Just as he finishes tying his shoe, Seungcheol crosses the threshold, leaning against the door as he eyes you. You could feel your eye twitching as you watched him what looked like inspect you, and you fight back a groan when he smirks at you.  

“What happened to never seeing each other again prin-” 

“Don’t finish that sentence,” you grit out, hoping your little brother could help you if he truly cared about you. You glance over at him, and just from the look in his eyes, you know he’s not helping you out. It’s like his eyes are shining with awe just from being near Seungcheol and you wonder what your little brother sees in him. 

He can’t be that great, you still– well hate’s not the word, that’s too strong, it’s more so you greatly dislike him for what he did a week ago. You still think it was shitty of him to not tell you anything about being late. And of course his cocky personality is really starting to get on your nerves, especially when he calls you princess, as if you two are that close. You’ve only spoken to him a handful of times and yet he calls you a petname as if you’ve known each other for ages. It just makes your skin crawl. 

“You know each other?” Your brother asks, poking his head into the conversation as he looks between the two of you. Before you could say anything, Seungcheol butts in, “she tutors me.” 

Your jaw drops as he smiles, as if he didn’t just lie to your little brother. It’s like every time he opens his mouth he finds a new way to piss you off. You dryly chuckle as you grab your brother’s shoulder, trying to guide him away so you can leave. “I don’t, now come on, I gotta start prepping dinner.” 

“But it’s Saturday, we usually eat out today,” he says and you give him a tightlipped smile. “I just feel like cooking today so why don’t we go home now.” 

At that, it seems like your brother finally puts the pieces together, and nods his head. Just as the two of you are about to leave the rink, Seungcheol calls out your name once again. Already knowing what he’s going to ask you shake your head. “I’ll tell Ms. Park on Monday to find someone else to help you.” 

And with that, you’re gone and Seungcheol’s on his own again, wondering how the hell he’s supposed to get his chemistry grade up without your help. 

“Do you hate Scoups hyung?” Your brother asks once you pull out of the parking lot, your car currently playing I’ll Make a Man Out of You as you let out a confused sound. “Scoups? Is that what you guys call him,” you chuckle, finding the nickname a little silly. 

“He said he doesn’t like people calling him his full name,” he explains with a shrug. “Now, do you hate him?” 

Wow, he’s really not letting this go. 

You sigh as you look over to your right. He’s looking at you expectantly, as if there’s this great and terrible backstory to explain why you wanted to leave the rink as soon as the hockey player approached you. When you tell your brother what happened a few days ago between the two of you, he just rolls his eyes. Yes rolls his eyes, as if being forced to wait an hour for someone to show up isn’t a good enough reason to dislike a person. 

“He apologized, what’s the big deal?” He asks, and it’s moments like this when you're reminded your brother is just a boy. “It’s the fact he made me wait an hour with no heads up that I’m still upset about.” Your brother looks over at you, a small smile on his face. “I think he’s a good guy, I’m sure he had a reason why he was late. I don’t think he meant to blow you off like that.” 

You blink, letting his words sink in for a moment before shaking your head, focusing back on the road. “Let’s stop talking about Choi and focus back on planning your essay that you have due on Monday.” 

He groans, throwing his head back onto the headrest, complaining about why his teacher needed them to write about an important person in their life. “I’m going to write about our dog,” he mutters once the two of you pull up into the parking lot of your apartment. You chuckle, locking the car as he holds open the elevator for you. “We don’t even have a dog.” 

“Ms. Kang doesn’t know that.” He shrugs and sometimes you wonder how your brother’s made it this far. “Whatever you say Frosty, but that essay better be done by tomorrow since mom wants us to go out to eat for dinner.”

“Hey Frosty’s a pretty good name for a dog, you think I could use it for a husky?” 

“You know what, go crazy dude.” 

The last thing you expect when you were walking to the parking lot, heading over to the middle school to go pick up your brother, was to be pinned against a wall in the science building, much less to see Choi Seungcheol, on his knees, begging for you to not talk to Ms. Park. 

You could only blink, wondering what the hell has gotten into him. Did he hit his head too hard from a fall on the ice or something? Feeling a little embarrassed, you try getting him back on his feet before anyone walks down the hall. Thankfully he gets up, but unfortunately he keeps you pinned to the wall, towering over you. 

“Choi, what the fuck’s gotten into you,” you mutter, trying to push him slightly away from you, putting some breathing space between the two of you. 

“Please don’t talk to Ms. Park to find a replacement tutor.” He quietly says and you could feel your jaw drop. No fucking way he’s still on this. You put your hands on his shoulders, effectively getting him to look at you. “You can’t be serious.” 

He groans as he closes his eyes, as if he was thinking of what the best thing to say is. One of your eyebrows raise as you wait to see what he says, and what looks like great reluctance from him, he finally confesses his woes.

“There’s a big tournament coming up in a month and if I wanna play, I need to get my chem grade up.” 

You stare at him for a few seconds. That’s it? Why would this concern you? Feeling a little nice, you don’t voice out your thoughts and instead ask, “so what does that have to do with me? You can just find another tutor.” 

He shakes his head and you tilt your head to the side, now intrigued on what he could possibly say. 

“You’re the only person who actually makes chemistry make sense so if I want a chance to pass this class,” he looks up and your breath hitches when you look into his eyes. You never noticed how pretty his eyes are, or how fucking long his eyelashes are. Shaking those thoughts away, you notice what looks like hope in his eyes, and you realize he really thinks you’ll help him. “I need your help.” 

You blink, trying to weigh your options. While you still hold a grudge against him for the first tutoring session, this tournament’s important to him. The two of you are seniors, and depending on his plans for after graduation, this may be the last time he gets to play the sport. Then of course, you can’t stop thinking about what your brother said the other day, and unfortunately for you, you trust your brother’s judgment. And if Seungcheol’s ineligible to play, you really don’t want that to affect your brother’s team. He’s grown to love the sport in the weeks he’s played and you really don’t want him to lose his growing passion. 

You sigh, closing your eyes as you lean your head back against the wall. “Fine, I won’t talk to her.” He smiles and before he could thank you, you cut him off. “But just know I’m doing this for my brother, he really seems to like you and I don’t want you failing to affect your coaching.” 

“I’ll take it as long as you’re agreeing to keep tutoring me,” he smiles and you’re stunned into silence for a few seconds when you see dimples dot his cheeks. You shake out of it and wiggle out of his grasp. “Yeah, just make sure you’re not late without a heads up, Choi.” 

The next few weeks are filled with Choi Seungcheol, and you’re not sure how you feel about that statement just yet. In the beginning, you were still a bit reluctant, still fearing he’d be late with no excuse, but at your first tutoring session, he had arrived at the library before you. You were walking to some of the tables at the back of the library when you heard someone call your name, only to see it was Seungcheol, who had reserved a study room for the two of you and already had all of his notes out. 

You felt a little bad even though you arrived on time. You had to drop your brother at home so you couldn’t meet right after school, but you did your best to get there as soon as possible. 

He was very attentive while you explained everything to him and you wondered how he was failing chemistry in the first place when it seemed like he knew all the topics. It was when the two of you got to the practice problems did you see where the problems were coming from. 

Your teacher, Ms. Park, has the tendency to make half of your homework situational problems, where you had to apply the basic knowledge that, on its own, was quite simple, but once put in a non-laboratory setting became a lot more difficult if one didn’t have a complete grasp on the concept. And that’s what you suspect is happening to Seungcheol, and the reason he was failing the class. Good thing you caught on in the beginning of these sessions and you could plan accordingly. 

It was another tutoring session when your phone started ringing, you grabbed your phone, confused on who was calling you when you excused yourself, leaving him to work on a problem on his own while you stepped out into the study room next door to take the call. 

Your eyes widen when you hear your little brother’s quiet voice on the other end, hoarse as he asks if you could come back home. You tell him you’re on your way before hanging up the call, and rushing into the study room you were just in. 

Seungcheol jumped at your sudden intrusion, but before he could complain about you scaring him, you started to throw your things into your bag, grabbing your keys. “I’m sorry but my little brother’s sick so I gotta go take care of him.” 

You were halfway through the door when you turned to look at him, “I’ll make it up to when he’s all better!” And just like that, you were out the door, apologizing to the little kid you almost bulldozed down in your rush to your car. 

You make it back home in a new record, most definitely going past the speed limits as you skid into the parking spot in the parking garage, haphazardly raising your hand with your keys in hand in the air as you run towards the elevator, not double checking to see if you actually locked your car. If you didn’t live on the fifth floor, you’d actually consider taking the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator, but alas, not even the haze of trying to get to your little brother was enough for you to suddenly have an increase in stamina. 

Thankfully the elevator didn’t take long and you were able to make it to your apartment, throwing open the door as you tossed your backpack down the hallway. You rush into the living room to see your little brother laying across the couch, buried under a pile of blankets. He’s really out of it if he didn’t even bother to look up at all the noise you made trying to get in. You sigh before heading to the bathroom, looking for a thermometer and to check if there was anything you could give him over the counter. 

Tsking at the 100.4° on the small screen, you wiped a damp towel over his forehead, wondering how he got this bad in the span of the 45 minutes that you were gone. He didn’t look too bad when you had picked him up from school, tired sure, but not knocking on death’s door like he is now. You were about to give him the medicine you found when there was a knock at the door. Not knowing who it could be, you quickly gave your brother the medicine and headed to the door. 

You check through the peephole and take a step back, your jaw slacking as you realize who’s on the other side of your door. 

Choi Seungcheol. 

How the fuck did he figure out where you live? You don’t remember telling him and last time you checked, your address wasn’t public knowledge. Shaking off the initial shock, you open the door, now curious as to why he’s here. Before he could explain his sudden visit, you beat him to the punch. “How the hell do you know where I live?” 

He pointed to the floor above you. “Jeonghan told me, plus it was listed on the emergency contacts your brother filled out.” You blinked at him, wondering why your upstairs neighbor would rat you out like that, or how he knew your exact unit number. Whatever, what’s done is done. You point at the convenience store bag in his hand, asking about what he has. 

He brings his free hand to scratch the back on his neck, a nervous chuckle leaving his lips, avoiding eye contact. “I- uh got kinda worried and wanted to check up on you guys.” He brings the bag up, “I don’t know what he’s sick with so I just got the generic stuff and I brought snacks.” 

You stare at him for a few moments before chuckling, thanking him as you take the bag from him and gesture for him to follow you into the apartment. He hesitates for a second before you nod at him, assuring him that it’s okay. He slips his shoes off and sets them down next to yours, following you into the apartment. 

Your little brother looks a little better, actually looking up when the two of you walk into the living room (it’s only a few steps past the little entryway). He looks at the two of you for a second before laying back down. He shoots back up, as if wondering if Seungcheol is actually in your guys’ apartment. 

“Real or am I hallucinating?” 

You laugh as you adjust the towel over his forehead, “as crazy as it looks, he’s real. Now you should lie back down while I make you a porridge to eat.” He nods his head, laying back down as he adjusts the towel to sit over his eyes. You expected Seungcheol to stay in the living room with your brother, you didn’t expect him to follow you into the kitchen, asking if he could help you. Getting over the initial shock, something that keeps happening whenever you’re around him apparently, and start telling him to grab everything that you need. 

It was funny to see him panic everytime you left him on his own to check on your brother, his eyes wide as his head kept snapping from the stove to you. Who knew the tough hockey captain could get so nervous by being left alone in the kitchen? 

Thankfully it didn’t take long for the porridge to be made, and once you confirmed that your brother was able to keep his food down, you went back into the kitchen. “How do you like your ramen Choi?” 

You turn to see him pouting and for some reason you feel the urge to poke his cheeks. Weird. 

“Why do you keep calling me Choi?” He complains, leaning against the counter as he watches you take out another pot and two packages of your favorite ramen brand. You look over your shoulder, closing the cabinet before standing back up. “Would you prefer me calling you by your full name?” You tease, smiling as you see his cheeks turn the softest shade of pink. He stumbles over his words before you hear him mutter a quiet no, and you just laugh. 

“I just don’t get why you call me by my last name instead of what everyone else calls me,” he says, handing you an egg when you ask for one. You shrug, “it started when you blew me off the first tutoring session and it kinda stuck.” 

“What do I have to do for you to call me something other than my last name,” he begs, and you laugh at how serious this is for him. You didn’t think his name would be this sore spot for him, but it is amusing to see him so stressed over something so small. You look over at him while the water’s boiling, biting your lip as you pretend to think it over. “Get over a 90 on our next chem test and I might consider it.” 

His jaw drops as he stands there frozen for a few seconds before groaning. “A 90? Listen, you're a great tutor but our next test is in literally three days and the best I’m getting is probably a mid 70.” 

“Then Choi it is,” you reply, grabbing two bowls. At least he believes he can pass this next test, that’s some progress. Before he can start complaining, you both freeze when you hear your little brother yell out, “can you two stop flirting and get me another bowl of porridge,” and before you can yell at him for even saying that he throws in a little “please” at the end. Wow, how polite of him. 

“We’re not flirting!” You say, walking into the living room to take his bowl, and as much as you want to tackle him to the ground for even suggesting you’re flirting with the hockey player, you decide to take pity on him, this time. He’s lucky his body failed him today. 

Once your sickly brother is content with his second bowl of porridge, you take your and Seuncheol’s bowls to your small dining table. He follows and you go back for utensils, asking what he’d like to drink. Once everything is set on the table, the two of you start eating in a comfortable silence, the show your brother was watching filling the otherwise silent apartment. Your eyes fall to his backpack that was by the door and you swallow what’s in your mouth before motioning to his bag. 

“Wanna continue with where we left off? I really think if we can get past this topic you can definitely score somewhere in the 80s.” His eyes follow at what you’re pointing at, and he nods, finishing his bowl before getting up to grab his backpack, and even getting your backpack that you had thrown earlier. 

The two of you pick up where you left off, occasionally taking breaks when your little brother claims he needs your assistance with what he calls “surviving” when in all actuality it was just him wanting another refill of his water. 

It was nearing 8 o’clock when the two of you were done for the day. As he was gathering his things, your brother got enough strength to get off the couch, heading to his room before waving bye to Seungcheol, telling him he’d definitely be good to go to practice on Saturday. The hockey player laughs as he leans over the table to fist bump him, telling him he better keep his word. You smile at the exchange, happy to see your brother doing better. 

“Come on, I’ll see you down,” you say when he’s gotten all his things. Before he can argue with you about it being unnecessary, you wave him off, saying how it’s the least you could do after he came all the way over to check up on the two of you.

The two of you are in the elevator when he finally speaks again. 

“Is it usually the two of you this late into the evening?” He asks, his eyes hesitantly flitting from your face to the wall next to your head. You hum, leaning against the railing with your eyes closed, “our mom works late at the hospital and…” You trail off, opening your eyes to see Seungcheol watching you, something in his eyes that makes you look away, the floor suddenly a lot more interesting to look at. Why does he look at you with so much care? 

“Our dad left when my brother was a couple of months old so it's just been us three,” you say, not quite believing you're actually telling him this about yourself. Hell, you don’t even know if he has siblings and yet you’re out here telling him your family life. Crazy what some dimples and pretty brown eyes can do to a girl. 

“Oh.” 

Ah, probably should’ve lied about your absent father. Something about him working late should’ve been excuse enough. Well, too late for that you internally groan at. Before you can apologize for making things awkward, he interrupts you. 

“Can we move our tutoring sessions to your place?”

Your jaw drops for a few seconds before you snap out of it, blinking to try to get your brain caught up to speed. “Why?” 

He sighs, turning away to face the elevator doors and you’ve never been more thankful for someone to stop looking at you. “I kinda hate the idea of your little brother waiting at home by himself while you’re tutoring me.” 

“He’s twelve, but as long as you don’t mind coming over here,” you say, glancing over at him, “then okay, we can move to our apartment.” He smiles and you feel this weird pang in your chest. The last time you felt this excited over a person was when you were getting ready for your date with Changkyun the other day. Does that mean you’re starting to actually enjoy Seungcheol’s company? 

Bound to happen considering you spend your Monday and Wednesday afternoons with the guy. It’s just, it feels different than what you felt with Changkyun and part of you just wants to bury that thought away and focus on anything else. Thankfully the elevator ride didn’t last too long and you walked Seungcheol to his car, your chest feeling a little bit tighter as you watched him drive away. 

It’s Saturday and you’re back at the rink to pick up your brother from practice. He’d gotten better and while you were hesitant to drop him off at practice, he insisted that he was all good to practice. You let him go, but not without texting Seungcheol before heading over to practice, asking him to keep an eye on your brother. This was the first time you texted him about something other than about your tutoring sessions and while your hands were shaking just thinking about talking to him about something other than chemistry, thankfully he agreed to keep an eye on your brother. 

You grab a jacket from the backseat, not wanting to freeze while you wait for your brother. He always manages to be the last one out of the rink, always talking to Seungcheol while everyone else skates towards the door to change out of their skates and into their shoes. 

And just like the past couple of weeks, your brother was still out on the ice, except instead of the two standing to the side talking about their practice, the two were skating over across the ice, the small black puck gliding between the two of them as they pass the puck amongst themselves. If you squint, you can see what you assumed is Seungcheol giving your brother tips because soon he nods and adjusts his hold on his stick. 

Then, catching the two of you off guard, he steals the puck from the hockey player, successfully scoring a goal on the unguarded net. Your mouth falls open before cheering for your brother. Sure it wasn't a game changing play, but you were still proud of him. Upon hearing your cheering, your brother skates to the wall where you’re standing, the short wall and the plexiglass the only thing separating the two of you. 

“Did you see that! I totally got him good!” He excitedly told you and you smiled. “Sure did dude, next time I think you should go for his knees, then you’d have no one stopping you,” you joke, smiling as your little brother laughs, complaining how that’s “not very good sportsmanship” but winks at you when Seungcheol skates over to the two of you, wiping off some of the ice shavings off his pants. 

“I can’t believe you’re telling your brother to kill me, princess,” he pouts and you roll your eyes, glad it’s so cold in the rink you can’t tell if your face is burning from the petname or from the freezing temperatures. You roll your eyes, pulling the collar of your jacket higher in an effort to cover your face. “Isn’t that part of the sport Choi, pushing and shoving each other?” 

He shrugs, a smile on his face. “Glad to see you know something about the sport, I see Frosty over has been teaching you.” Your brother groans when he hears his coach use the nickname you gave him once he started hockey. It started off as a small joke that somehow morphed to having the whole team only ever calling him Frosty. Hey, at least he’s already got a marketable name, you told him one day when you were driving back home after practice a few weeks ago.  

You shrug, tugging your jacket tighter. In all actuality your brother hadn’t explained the sport all that much besides the occasional “you don’t do that” or “that’s a good thing” or other vague explanations when you ask him questions. Instead, after a tutoring session with Seungcheol, and as a way to procrastinate an essay you had to work on, you decided to look into the sport. It wasn’t much, just a quick google search about the rules that had you clicking off the site after a few paragraphs and instead watching a couple of matches on youtube. You had half the mind to ask Seungcheol but decided against it. You were just supposed to be tutoring him in chemistry and you thought learning more about the sport he put years in was a little much for you. (And the thought of him in his full uniform was starting to make your heart ache just a little much.) 

“Might as well since I come here once a week,” you say, and Seungcheol smiles, and you wish he didn’t have such a cute smile. His gummy smile is going to be the death of you, you think as you look over to see if your brother’s got his shoes on. 

You don’t know when you started to see Seungcheol in a different light. Probably around the time your brother got sick since that was the first time you got to see him not in a school setting. Or to be more exact, the moment he asked if your tutoring sessions could be moved to your apartment so you could watch over your brother. Whenever it was, you wished it didn’t happen. 

After the results of the chemistry test the two of you have a week, your tutoring sessions would be over since by then you’d know whether or not he’d be good to compete in the tournament. While a part of you was sad to think about not being with him every Monday and Wednesday with him, you’re at least happy about the fact his grade’s would be doing better. And sure, at first you were helping him out reluctantly, but after spending so much time with him, you realized he was nothing like you originally thought he was like. 

Your first meeting really was just a fluke, and he was just a nice guy. You actually had asked him after a few sessions why he was so late to the first tutoring session and you can remember the cute blush that grew on his face as he explained how he was planning the youth hockey team’s practice and lost track of the time. He looked so cute, his cheeks a rosy pink and a small pout on his lips, and that’s when you thought, yeah, he’s not that bad of a guy. 

“Okay, I’m good to go,” your brother says, and you blink, snapping out of your thoughts. You nod, extending your hand to help him carry some of his gear. Noticing your empty motions, Seungcheol takes a step towards you but you shake your head. “I’ll see you on Monday Choi.” 

“Yeah… see you later, princess.” 

You’re really, truly fucked, you come to realize as you stare at your phone. Why, just why did you have to send that text? 

Your friend, who was under the impression you still hated Seungcheol for blowing you off the first tutoring session, asked if there was a way you could set her up with him for a date. And you, still not wanting to admit the fact that you’ve definitely started catching feelings for the captain, agreed to set the two up. And trying to convince yourself that the warm feeling you get in your chest from just seeing him smile meant nothing, you sent a text wondering if he was down to meet with your friend over the weekend. 

And now you’re waiting for a response, hoping that he won’t agree to the date. Hell, you’re on your knees hoping that even if he does say yes, that it goes horrible so they don’t keep meeting. Terrible, yes, but your heart can’t handle the idea of someone who isn’t you by his side. And yet you still won’t admit that you have a crush on him. (Denial is one hell of a drug.) 

When you hear your phone go off from a notification, you push yourself off the floor, where you’ve made home the past couple of minutes. With a shaky hand, you flip your phone over, clicking on the notification. 

Choi 🏒: tell her sorry, I’m not interested in dating right now 🫤

Oh. 

He’s not interested in dating right now? For some reason that hurts more than if he said he is interested in the date. With a shaky inhale you text him back, letting him know you’ll let her know and you toss your phone away, burying your face against your knees. 

Okay so maybe you do have a crush on Seungcheol, big fucking hurray. 

You’re walking back to your car when you hear someone calling out your name. You recognize the voice and freeze, wondering what Seungcheol wants with you and wishing he’d just leave you alone. Despite him doing nothing wrong, you really don’t want to see him right now, especially since you were going to use the drive back home to prepare yourself for your tutoring session with him. 

He runs up to you, a smile on his face as he blocks you from opening the driver’s side. You cross your arms over your chest, raising an eyebrow as you look at him. “What’s up Choi?” 

“I came by to tell you that I can’t make it to today’s session.” He explains and you notice how his cheeks are tinted pink. Just how far was he running from? You give him a look as you lean against your car. “So why didn’t you just text me then?” 

“I wanted to see you.” 

Your eyes widen as you turn to face him fully. You feel your face burn as you try unsuccessfully to say something in return. He smiles and you want nothing more than to wipe his adorable smile off his face. The fact he doesn’t even know the emotional turmoil he’s putting you through is insane and you wish he didn’t have this much power over you. You try coughing, covering your face as you look away from him. “Yeah, whatever, is that all you have to say?” 

He nods and he shoves his hands into the pockets of his sweats and still with that frustratingly cute smile, his stupid dimples on full display, “I’m still good for Wednesday though, I want to celebrate our last session before the test Friday.” You nod, a tight lipped smile on display as you wave him goodbye. 

Once in the comfort of your car, you groan, dropping your head on the steering wheel, wishing you weren’t so crushed over this. Things come up all the time, it’s not a big deal he can’t make it today. If anything you can just use this time to get your homework done for the week so you don’t have to worry about it later. Maybe instead of groveling over a guy you could actually be productive for once. 

Wednesday rolls around and you don’t think you’ve given yourself a chance to think about Seungcheol. How could you when you’ve been busy doing your homework, planning what you’d cover in today’s session, helping your brother with his homework, doing all the chores around the apartment, and if you weren’t busy with all that you had your headphones on, not even giving yourself the chance to think. Who needs to think when you’ve been so busy? 

You pull out of the parking lot of the middle school, your little brother grabbing your phone to change the song that was playing. Sticking to a song that you hoped wouldn’t show up on your spotify wrapped, you keep driving, your thoughts starting to drift off to Seungcheol. Catching yourself, you will yourself to listen to the song your brother chose, and you wonder which was worse for your mental health. 

Once in the comfort of your apartment, your little brother heads off to his room claiming how he doesn’t want to watch his older sister flirt with his hockey coach while he does his homework. At first you’d argue that you weren’t but as of late you knew there was no saving yourself and didn’t even try to fight back anymore, only groaning as you started to set the table. 

A few minutes later you hear someone at the door and you take a deep breath, preparing yourself to get through your last session and as a way to prepare your heart for the inevitable. Seungcheol smiles as he steps inside, slipping off his shoes as he places them next to yours. You turn around and your eyes widen as your face heats up as you take in his appearance. He was just wearing a pair of sweats and a black shirt and yet you could feel your heartbeat race at the sight. You quickly turn around, pretending to adjust your notebook as you try to calm your beating heart. He’s worn that outfit combo tons of times and yet now your heart decides to give you trouble. 

If he notices your internal struggle, he doesn’t say anything. He takes his seat at the table, taking out his things as you finally look at him to start. Hopefully your heart can take the next few hours, if not, thankfully your mom’s a registered nurse. 

“Hey princess,” he starts and you, against your better judgment, smile at the petname, “can I ask you something.” You put your pencil down, turning to face him as he put his pencil down, the problem you had given him to work on an afterthought. “Sure, go ahead.” 

“If I ace this test will you come watch me play in my tournament?” He asks, his eyes sparkling with hope and you find yourself leaning against your hand to cover your mouth so he can’t see the dopey smile on your face. “When you say ace, how high of a score are we talking here,” you tease. You don’t know where this sudden confidence came from but if it helps you from burning away in your seat, you’ll take it. 

He smirks, leaning close to you and your breath hitches, freezing in your seat. “I say at least a mid 90.” You chuckle, leaning in close as you internally scream at yourself to back the fuck away from him. “Sure, you got yourself a deal, but I’m expecting the best from you Choi.” You say, beginning to turn away so he can’t see the dopey smile on your face.

“Of course, can't disappoint my princess, can I?” His pointer finger and thumb gently hold your chin, making you look at him and his stupid smug face that you so desperately want to kiss. 

Oh yeah, your heart’s definitely going to explode. 

You think you mutter something along the lines of “in your dreams Choi” but at this point you’re not even sure you can still rangle up enough brain cells to formulate a coherent thought. Heat floods your cheeks as he still holds your face and you swear you see his eyes fall to your lips, or at least you think they do. You’re too busy staring at his lips to really be too sure. 

Somehow your one brain cell manages to scramble enough thoughts to control your body, except it makes you lean in closer to him, close enough you can feel his breath hover over your lips. Your eyes flutter shut and just when you think everything is going great you hear your little brother yell your name from his room and that’s enough to snap the two of you out of the daze you’re in. You clear your throat, excusing yourself as you push out your chair and head to your brother’s room, wondering what the hell he needs that he just needs you right now.

“What do you want?”  You hiss out, leaning against the doorframe of his room. He looks up from his desk, papers scattered across the wooden surface as he turns his swivel chair to face you. He shrugs, “I felt this weird disturbance in the force and called you over here.” 

It takes everything in you to not throw him across his room. You sigh, “yeah that disturbance was born twelve years ago.” 

“Hey!” He throws a pokemon plushie, piplup if you remember correctly, at you. You duck and the plushie hits your bedroom door behind you. You turn around to pick it up, only to immediately throw it back at him, and successfully manage to hit him in the head with it. He stumbles back in his chair and you laugh at him. He glares at you for a moment before breaking out into laughter as well. “Okay fine good aim, I’ll give it to you,” he acknowledges with a surrender of his hands, the plushie back on his shelves, joining the rest of his collection. “Now go back to tutoring Scoups hyung so you can make dinner.” 

You shake your head, a small smile on your face. “You can always make dinner, you should probably start now since I’ll be going off to coll-” 

“Don’t say the c word!” He interrupts, a new pokemon plushie in hand. His eyes are wide and your smile softens before it’s turning into a small pout. The past year you’ve been trying to teach your brother how to take care of things around the apartment since soon it’ll just be him waiting for your mom to come home, but each time he always changes the subject, or even resorting to throwing his plushies to stop the conversation. In that moment you don’t see your twelve year old brother who loves to get on your nerves, instead you see your baby brother who never left your side for anything. Your other half despite the six year difference between the two of you.

Before you know it, your throat tightens up as you watch him lower the plushie, turned away so he’s not looking at you. “Um… you should probably go back to Scoups hyung.” His voice is small, like if speaks any louder and he might start crying.  

You nod, slowly backing out of his room, “yeah, just let me know if you need anything.” You turn to walk out when you turn back to face him, “I’ll make your favorite for dinner tonight.” His head perks up and you smile at him, to which he returns. 

You make it back to the living room to see Seungcheol working on the problems you had left him. You let out a small chuckle, and he looks up, smiling when he notices your back. “Everything okay?” 

You nod, “he’s fine, he was just a little bored.” He smiles and the two of you get back to your homework. Soon enough, the two of you finish, even with the practice you gave him to really prepare him for your upcoming test, and you relax in your seat, a smile on your face. Seungcheol faces you, his smile growing as he looks from his papers to you. “Thank you, I don’t think I could’ve done this without you.” 

You wave his compliment off, your smile perpetually stuck on your face when you're around him. “Nope, it’s all you Choi, I’m simply here to help you. Now you’ve gotta ace this test so I can go watch you win this tournament.” He smiles and you don’t think you’d ever find dimples this cute on another person in your life. 

“Anything for you, princess.” 

You’re walking out of your last period class when you hear Seungcheol call your name out. You turn around, already smiling since you know what this is going to be about, and judging by his voice, it’s going to be good news. 

He runs up to you, stapled papers in hand and you just know it’s his chemistry test. He makes it infront of you, his hands coming up to hold your shoulders in an effort to stabilize himself, his test pressing against your shoulder. “I got my results back!” 

You laugh, your hands coming up to rest over his, smiling and feeling heat begin to creep up your face at the close proximity. “I can tell, but come on I’m dying to know what you got Choi.” A light blush grows on his face as his smile grows, his hands moving away from your shoulders as he straightens up his test since it had gotten crumpled during everything. 

Once it was straightened out, he flipped it over, handing the test to you. You take the test and your eyes widen when you see the large 100 written next to his name. You look up to see him smiling and in your excitement, you pull him into a hug. “Oh my god! I knew you could do it, this is amazing!” He tightens his hold on you, picking you off the ground to spin you in a hug. You’re laughing as he gently sets you down, you’re smiling so much your cheeks are starting to hurt but you don’t even care right now. You’re just so happy for Seungcheol, happy that this means he gets to play in his tournament. 

He pulls you into another hug, muttering into your hair, “thank you, I wouldn’t have been able to do this without you.” You pull him closer, “of course Cheol.” 

The day of the tournament arrived and you don’t know why you’re so nervous. Seungcheol and the team have been doing great all day, moving farther and farther up the rackets, and yet you’re still nervous. It probably has to deal with the fact neither of you really discussed what happened last week, the whole really intimate hug in the middle of the hallway and all that. You two actually were texting back and forth the past week, and yet neither of you dared to talk about the hallway incident. 

Just like how neither one of you spoke about the almost kiss back in your apartment. 

So your nerves are most definitely tied to whatever you got going on with the captain of the hockey, the very same captain who’s leading his team to victory. This is the first time you’re seeing Seungcheol in his full uniform and damn, he looks good in his uniform. Something about how it makes him look larger just makes your heart beat faster every time he skates by where you’re sitting. 

The first time he skated by, you watched as he did a double-take before smiling his gummy smile, dimples on full display and waving at you and your brother, who insisted on coming along. (You weren’t going to tell him no, of course you’re going to bring him along.) Occasionally, he’d shoot you a look, smiling at you and you’d wave at him, feeling your face burn up every time. 

It’s the final match of the day, and you don’t think you’ve screamed this much in your life. You always make sure to cheer for Seungcheol every time he makes a goal, and halfway through the day, it turns into a competition between you and your brother on who could cheer the loudest for him. And you’re not about to lose against your brother. 

Somehow the match had gone into overtime due to the teams being tied and you’re at the edge of your seat, your little brother in the same position. At some point he grabbed your gloved hand, squeezing tight as they entered the sudden death overtime. (Why the hell is it called that?) You squeeze his hand as you watch Seungcheol go head to head against someone on the other team and you hold your breath watching as the two try to steal the puck from the other. 

Just when it looks like the other guy’s about to steal the puck, Seungcheol finds an opening, sending the puck into the unguarded goal, making the winning shot. 

You and your brother shoot up in your seats, and you pull him into a hug as you both jump in excitement and happiness. Seungcheol gets affectionately tackled by his teammates as they swarm him, and you can hear them chanting their captain’s name as the announcer relays the winning team. You look over once you’ve calmed down a bit and somehow manage to make eye contact with him. You smile and you mouth “I’m so proud of you," hoping he’d be able to understand you. 

It seems like he does because soon enough it looks like he mouths something along the lines of, “all for you, princess.” 

The tournament’s over now and you’re waiting for your little brother to finish in the restroom before you two head back home. A part of you wishes you’d get to see Seungcheol before leaving but he’s probably busy with after game things and celebrating that you’ll just settle with talking to him some other time. 

You’re about to text your brother to ask him where he’s at when you feel someone come up from behind you, spinning you around. You shriek, holding your phone close to your chest, about to curse out whoever it was when you hear the person laughing and you immediately soften, knowing exactly who it is. 

He sets you back down, turning you to face him. You smile and before you can even open your mouth to congratulate him on winning his senior tournament, he cups your face, leaning in to kiss you. Your eyes widen at the contact before they flutter shut, your own hands coming up to rest over his. His hands are freezing but you don’t mind, not when your face is burning up enough you’re sure you could warm up his hands in minutes. Your hands drift from his to rest over his shoulders, pulling him closer as you lean slightly back, with him following. He pulls away from the kiss to catch his breath, causing you to chase after his lips, already missing the pillowy feeling of them on your own. He chuckles before dipping down to kiss you again when someone clears their throat. 

You groan, already knowing who it is, dreading whatever comment he has to say. You look over your shoulder, only to see your little brother smiling. You definitely expected him to be pulling some disgusted face to make fun of you. Instead he was smiling, smiling so big you would think he just won a year’s supply of his favorite food. 

“If you’re done making out with your boyfriend, do you wanna ask him if he wants to join us for dinner?” 

Seungcheol's hand slips into your own, squeezing your gloved hand as you look up at him. His smile is so big and his cheeks are a pretty pink blush. “I really like the sound of that, what do you think princess?” 

You like that a lot, you think, squeezing his hand as you drag him to follow you and your brother, laughing when you hear his teammates cheering for their captain, for finally getting his girl. 

Maybe tutoring the captain wasn’t so bad after all.

[bridgetotheskyyy]

Kisame; Size Kink

Kinktober Masterlist

a/n: Kisame my beloved!!!!!! 18+ only. Size kink, double penetration, vore-y implications (idk how it happened?? i'm sorry???)

You’d had better missions.

“Well,” Kisame said. “That was eventful.”

He threw away Samehada. Abandoned, it growled, having been denied the promise of a meal. 

“The next one will be better,” You said as much to negate your guilt as to quell his disappointment.

Kisame snorted. Despite the failure the day had been, his reprimands had lacked ire. “As long as I’m entertained, it could never be a complete bust.” He shot you a cheeky side-eye. “But we both know what the problem is.”

Your brows raised. “Enlighten me.”

Kisame’s grin grew more wicked. “I’d rather demonstrate, if you wouldn’t mind.”

“Be my guest.”

“Come, then. I’d like a swim.” 

You followed Kisame out by the nearby lake. He dove in unceremoniously, Akatsuki cloak abandoned on the riverside. He swam with expected ease.

And when he emerged, you admired him: Each step sent water dripping from perfect pectorals, biceps flexing as Kisame raised a hand to drag water from his hair. A navy happy trail ran into his trousers. Sunlight dazzled Kisame’s chromatic skin as he approached, his shadow eclipsing yours.

“See?” he said.

You blinked. “What?”

His wicked grin returned, aided in some way by your absentmindedness. “You’re distracted by me.”

“What?” A blush tinted your cheeks. “No, I’m not.”

Kisame’s laugh was just as devious. “You’re a bad liar.” 

“And you flatter yourself too much.”

Kisame’s cackle sounded behind you as you made to leave the riverside.

“So what is it about me you like?”

“I’m not discussing this.”

“You know, you and Itachi are just alike,” he said. “Far too serious for your own good.”

You were silent, acutely aware of Kisame trailing behind you, your footsteps engulfed by his.

“It’s because I’m so much bigger than you, isn’t it?”

“Oh, fuck off!”

But even then you knew you’d never win against someone who enjoyed this sort of verbal foreplay, who got such a sick thrill out of infuriating you, flustering you.

Kisame grabbed your arm and you whipped back to meet his playfully narrowed eyes. “Then, tell me I’m wrong.”

You ignored the comment. Ignored how you had thought of just that many times over, the immense size difference between you and your partner. Kisame towered over you. And if he so desired, he could easily swallow you up in an embrace and devour you. Metaphorically. Literally.

You had problems.

While in your reverie, Kisame had closed the gap between the two of you. Still smiling, he brushed a finger against your cheek when you stubbornly turned your head away.

“Hm?” He was baiting you and you knew it.

You flexed your cheek away to avoid his petting and he snickered, showing sharp incisors. “Like I said: Fuck you.”

“I appreciate an eager woman.”

In a swoop, Kisame had you over his shoulder and was striding toward drier parts of the lakeside. 

“Kisame!” You kicked your legs. “Kis ― I’ll kill you ―”

“I’d love to see you try.”

“I’m serious ― I’ll have your head for this! Kisame!” 

He lowered you on your back. He was over you now, arms pinning you on either side of your head. 

“Enough,” You said.

Kisame feigned disappointment. “Aw, don’t tell me you really don’t want to have fun.” He smirked. “But there are so many fun things I’d like to show you.”

Your cheeks ran red, but you did not push him away.

“Tell me, do you like this.” Kisame leaned down and licked a strip of his tongue against your neck. At your whimper, he chuckled, the sound low in his throat. “The idea of someone so much bigger and stronger lording over you?”

“Bigger’s one thing,” you grumbled. “But stronger ―? Mfm …”

Kisame buried himself in your neck again, thoroughly kissing, licking and sucking ― the unholy trinity ― as one of his hands dallied south, its laid above your head. “I could crush you, you know.” His teeth grazed your skin, threatening to bite. “I could lay myself on top of you and choke you out― your throat wouldn’t even fit in my hand.”

You whimpered again, teeth worrying your bottom lip. You were truly sick, to be turned on by all of this. You knew he never would ― he valued your partnership ― but no lies had been told.

Kisame’s rumbling laugh shuddered your earlobe. “I know what else might not fit …”

He’s such a dick. You arched into him, resistance waning as Kisame’s hand cupped the plump, swelling lips of your cunt through your panties. He’d long since undone your bottoms and worked his way into them, and now two fingers slowly swept against the wet patch sitting between your lips. 

“Fuck …” Your heel bit into one of his legs at the feel of his fingers infiltrating your panties. “Fuck, do it, then. Get me ready for your cock, ngh!”

Kisame cackled. “I don’t think I have enough fingers for that.”

“Oh, shut up! You’re not as funny as you think you ar ― aahha!”

Kisame plunged two fingers inside you. The sudden intrusion stopped your words in their tracks; your eyes widened as his massive digits coaxed your wetness to spill forth. You moaned, bucking your hips forward. 

“Looks like you’re helping me out quite a bit,” he said. “So wet already and I haven’t even ― mm …”

Kisame hadn’t lied; his fingers filled you out so completely; yours never felt like this, never reached so deep. Kisame tapped and dribbled his fingers against the eager spongey surface of your g-spot.

“A ― ahah, oh …!” 

You could be spotted out in the open. Would anyone even see you under the mountain of the man that was Kisame? His giant form would shroud you completely.

“Atta girl,” he said amid your moaning. “Might as well get both holes ready,”

One of Kisame’s fingers had snuck to your ass, tapping the puckered hole. Your eyes were still wide, lips parted as he lifted away from you and sat on his knees.

You throbbed around the fingers still playing in your pussy, enthralled by his admission. 

Your mind whirled as Kisame’s full attention lay on your nether regions, prepping and probing you on both fronts. How big would he be? You could almost feel your walls shuddering in anticipation at how they would be stretched. 

And what did he mean by both holes? How long would he keep you on this riverside, fucking you from every end?

Kisame sent his fingers farther, gouging a surprised moan out of you, your mouth forming a perfect o.

“Kisame, I ― oh …!”

“If you’re making all this noise, you’re clearly not ready for what comes next.” Kisame’s other hand worked on shoving down both his trousers and yours. 

You attempted to rise. Poor mistake: Kisame gripped your throat, forcing you backward into the grass. Your eyes widened, and for a second fear and arousal flooded through you like water through dam at his possibly doing what he imagined seconds ago. But Kisame only shadowed you, bearing his weight, a new, perceptible hardness lodged between your bodies. 

“Look at this,” he ordered, and he lessened his grip on your throat to allow your head to bend forward and see his cock ― cocks.

Bo ― both of them bigger than even you had anticipated.

“Think you can take them both, sweetheart?”

You gaped, mouth watering as Kisame positioned his cocks beside both entrances.

He thrusted inside of you. With a gasp, you clutched at his sides with stiffening legs. His fingers were nothing in comparison to this. The double penetration blindsighted you totally, your mind went blank as he filled you to capacity.

“You ― fucking ― ah ― disappear underneath me,” Kisame said. “Anyone walking by would think I was just ― nrgh ― spearing my cocks into the grass.”

Holy shit. It was true. Kisame’s silhouette, elongated by the eager sun, dwarfed you. You hung on to him as he deepened his thrusts, ragdolling you in the grass, the frantic motions sure to leave burns under your ass and thighs.

Everything, everywhere, overwhelming. That was Kisame. He tauntingly licked the shell of your ear, groaned into your side in a way that signified his nearing end. 

“Such good little holes you’ve got, taking me in so good like this,” Kisame huffed. “Stronger than they look, too.” 

You were not far behind, frantically speared into two holes at once. Your eyes rolled in the back of your head, the friction as excruciating as it was marvelous.

“What do you say, little girl?” he said. ‘How ‘bout I drown you in my come?”

Whether you managed to say yes aloud or not you’d never know, for Kisame plunged his fingers, soaked with your juices, into your mouth, your natural salt invading your tastebuds as he fucked into you. 

The sensory overload was too much; you sucked his fingers into your mouth, sufficiently fucked in all of your holes. And you barely registered the roar he gave as you clenched and came around both of his cocks. Your legs spasmed at Kisame’s side, biting your nails into his forearms. He continued to animalistically rut into you, stimulating your clit with the aimless friction of his hips.

“Ki ―” His name died on your lips as his fingers pressed into your tongue. His mouth brushed against your cheek, shark teeth dangerously close to your flushed skin, as he painted your inner walls white. 

Kisame withdrew everywhere; you were haunted by the sudden emptiness. You attempted to stifle a whimper and failed miserably. Would you ever be so perfectly full again? 

When you came to entirely, still in the midst of catching your breath, Kisame was also still hovering above you with a smile gentler than all the others.

“That was fun,” he said casually.

The light of day was dimmed by his shadow. And, poised beneath him, you were sure you looked vulnerable enough to eat.

[jasmines-library]

Necrosis

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

WHUMPTOBER DAY SIXTEEN :Prompt: necrosis/wound cleaning.

Summary: Tim helps you with your wounds.

Warnings: mentions of injury. Necrosis.

Word count: 666

MASTERLIST ⛤ WHUMPTOBER 2024

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

Tim frowned as he watched you hobble across the room with a noticeable limp. You had been injured a few weeks ago; a nasty hit to the thigh with a knife. The would had been deep and painful and would more than likely leave a scar. You were supposed to be on crutches, but you had abandoned those after the first week and a half and were now resorting to limping through the manor now you weren’t on bed rest. 

“You shouldn’t be walking on that.” Tim chided as he glanced up at you from his computer screen. He had been staring at it for the last three hours, only leaving to go to the bathroom or to refill his coffee. 

“Yeah but I’m sick of staying in bed.” You said, continuing to limp towards the kitchen.  It was strange. After two or so weeks the wound should have healed up somewhat, but it seemed you were still struggling with it. And normally it wouldn’t have been a problem, but Tim often overthought and wanted to be safer than sorry. With a huff, Tim stood, walking over to you. He placed a gentle hand on your back and guided you to sit down. 

“Sit.” He said. It was practically an order as he gave you no choice but to. 

You let out a hiss as you sat, the pain in your leg twinging. Tim gave you a look. 

“How many times have you been told to stay off this leg.” He tutted. “If you want to get better you need to rest.” 

“I was just going to the kitchen.” You argued back. 

“You could have asked one of us” 

“There’s no point in asking one of you when it’s just easier to get there myself.” 

“Clearly you can’t. You’re still limping…..is it still bothering you that much?” 

“A little…” 

“That means yes then.” Tim rephrased. He knew you had a habit of downplaying your pain. He helps you straighten out your leg gently, taking a look at the bandages. “How long ago did you change these?” 

“Uh….two I think. Alfred did them for me.” He had been doing a good job of making sure your wound was clean and free from infection. 

Tim pursed his lips. “You mind if I take a look? They probably need changing anyway” 

“Go ahead.” 

“Alright.” Tim stood before going to get the medical kit. “Don’t move.” He pointed at you. “I mean it.” 

“Yes, Sir.” You mock saluted. 

Tim returned a minute later, and as much as you would have liked to have left you did stay in your place for him. Gingerly he took your leg between his hands and began to unwrap the bandages. There was no sign of blood, which was a good sign. However when he revealed the wound, he let out a hiss though his teeth.

Some of the skin around the wound had began to turn a nasty grey-ish colour. Necrosis. Likely a sign of infection or lack of blood to the cells which has caused them to die. 

“Well shit….. no wonder it’s been bothering you so much, sweetheart.”

“Necrosis?” You swallowed thickly. 

“Looks like it. It’s infected, kid.” 

“Shit.” 

“Hey. Don’t think like that. We’ll get you on some antibiotics and see how that helps and go from there, yeah? I’ll let B know. You’ll be fine, we’ll sort it, kid.” 

“Thank you.” 

“Now let’s get this bandaged for you, hm?” He said, reaching into the medical kit and pulling out a fresh bandage and some sterile wipes. Gently he cleaned the area, his touch gentle so as to not cause you any more harm, before he tossed the wipe away and began to re-wrap the wound. The bandage sat snug but not suffocating around your thigh. “There you go kid. 

 “Thank you.”

“Now get some rest while I go and talk to B.”

“Alright.”

“No walking on that leg.” Tim warned. “I mean it. No wandering off.”

“No promises.”

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

<- DAY FIFTEEN ⛧ DAY SEVENTEEN->

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

TAGS:

@hearts4robs @kingshitonly @alicedawitchbish @hell-o-kittys @azure-drag0ness @harleycao @thewhispersofthewaves @batfamsstuff @xxrougefangxx @rosecentury @noisymutantherelol @killxz @rhiodes @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @canthavetoomuchchaos

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

[14thgalerie]

the one

• pairing: theodore nott x riddle!reader

• now playing: hayloft by mother mother / you that i want by divine

• word count: 1.7k

• genre: angst, fluff, hint of smut

— short one that i kept thinking of.

Theo slumped in his chair, fatigue weighing heavily on him. The clock on the wall opposite him ticked relentlessly, unforgiving of his sleepless state. He had long abandoned any hope of finding any rest. He hadn’t been able to since that fateful night when everything felt right in his life.

His mind wouldn’t grant him solace. Each time his weary eyelids dared to meet from the pure exhaustion of the stress of OWLS, the ongoing war, his brain kept feeding him images of you. You, who kept haunting him from the very forefront of his mind. 

The natural curve of your eyelashes. The way it fluttered against his cheeks as your lips made a blazing trail across his cheeks. Gentle whispers that drown him in sheer bliss still send shivers down his spine. 

His tie lay abandoned, discarded beside him, next to the pile of papers swept aside in his frustration earlier. The long, emerald fabric had felt too suffocating amidst the overwhelming thoughts of you.

He couldn’t help but wonder if you would also be writhing in bed, unable to fall asleep as he does. Would your dreams torment you with the brief time his hands tangled onto your hair, wayward? Does your dormant body spin cruel variations of that time, telling him tantalising tales of what could’ve occurred if only your insufferable blonde companion hadn’t so abruptly interrupted?

He had never loved you.

Not in the way you wanted.

This desire to fill the emptiness in your heart, to have somebody give you the time and day has obscured that truth. A part of you knew, from the very beginning, but this desperation forced you to turn yourself blind.

Draco was there, a constant presence in your life, a perfect match to have by your side. Born only 24 hours apart, and 10 years of your childhood spent solely with him.

In truth, you both used the other, a fact that you ignored. He relied on you for protection and status as your partner, while you clung to him to feel the fleeting sense of warmth. But the perpetual storm of reality always wearing you both down and, you were rapidly losing the strength to keep yourself afloat.

Unspoken words hung heavy in the air between the both of you as the year progressed and the inevitable return of your father neared. At first, you had both kept your feelings at bay, not wanting this to jeopardise your friendship altogether. But as time went on, it became a routine. Venom spit from raised voices, threats of abandonment and indifference to each other, reconciliation accompanied by hollow promises and sex.

“Are you a bloody fool? She is my best friend and yet again, Draco ‘can’t-keep-his-boxers-on’ Malfoy decided that didn’t matter!” You screamed in frustration, but it didn’t seem to matter when he didn’t even so much as falter at the volume. 

“We aren’t even together, so why should it?” He carelessly replies, an air of indifference surrounding him.

“We aren’t? You truly are an insufferable git, I spent two years committing myself to you, and you never thought to mention that little detail before?” You scoffed, incredulous at the idea. It was foolish and outrageous, and not at all like how the man you know would think. Despite your differences with one another, he would still treat you with at least the respect you give to a friend, but now…

“Oh please! Don’t act as if your mind has not been completely filled with that mindless buffoon.” 

“For Merlin’s sake, do not dare turn this on me…” You challenged him. 

“Or what? Threaten to have your father kill me? Well, surprise, darling, I’m no stranger to that already.” He humorlessly chuckles. “I’ve seen you. I’ve seen that god-awful lovesick look on your face at the mere sight of his back. I am not the complete bloody fool you think I am.”

It hurt, truly, despite the fact that this started as a hilarious excuse of a relationship. You cared for Draco and to see him constantly destroy everything and everyone in his path of destruction left you unable to conjure up any more excuses for him.

“I am done, Draco. We can stop whatever awful pretentious act we put ourselves to and live on our own as you seem to hardly care for even yourself anymore these days.” You laugh, defeat etched on your face.

He never gave you the love that you sought, the kind that Theo had laid bare in complete display for you in just under seven minutes in that tiny closet. 

“You came back to me.” He whispers, close enough for his lips to touch the corner of your lips but there’s just a stutter of breath. It makes you want to instinctively kneel and look up to him and beg religiously for mercy, the way he speaks.

“I did.” You reply. Unmoving, but your patience wears thin.

“Look at you,” He mutters, his hand tugging at your head by your hair, exposing your neck to him, and your knees nearly buckle at his breath that burns against your jaw. “I haven’t even touched you properly yet and you’re almost like putty in my hands already.”

“Shut it, Nott.” You quickly remark a decision you notably regret when you are left standing in the middle of the room all by yourself. The cold air from the ajar window left your skin tingling with an uncomfortable feeling akin to when Draco touched you in the past weeks.

You scoff, the sound more as if you were nearly pleading. “What are you doing?”

“You know I hate it when you act like a brat.” He inclined his head, and the movement leaves chills running through your spine for the action is almost similar to someone sinister. But weirdly, it makes you want to tease him even more.

“Oh please, Theo. I’m not blind, as if you don’t dream of it.” You slowly approach him, your fingers make a motion of dragging along the ends of the poster beds. “The way I see your eyes tremble when I contradict every single thing you say. I know you are depraved when your thoughts are only of my mouth…”

You hear a sharp intake of breath when you come near. “The way you would just love it if you could shut me up by having my lips wrapped around you. I know you, Theo.”

His lips twitch into a mirthless smile, he reaches almost mindlessly for your collar. His thumb barely touches the skin of your neck. “Yes, you do.”

His eyes are intense as they dart to your mouth. Your tongue unconsciously makes a sweep against your dry lips.

“I suppose Draco will show me exactly how.”

Taking a page of this man’s book is terrifying but you are tired of this game of tug that you keep playing.

“That would be wise. ”

He’s still looking at your lips.

“I’ll go then.” You try again, unwilling to make the move.

“Go on, you won’t hear a sound of protest from me.” But you remain standing in front of him, the will to move weak against the desire to have him.

“Really?”

“No.”

Theo grabs the back of your head, tangled his fingers in your hair, and made a mess of your mouth. With his lips attached to yours, you grab him by his shirt and the both of you kiss as if you were third years again. Your teeth clashed into each other time and time again and you couldn’t find it in you to slow down. 

The need to kiss him, to feel what you’ve been thinking of for several nights on end.  You push back at him, desperate to feel the same hunger and need in him, as he kisses you deeper and more profound than you ever thought possible.

The soft, selfish hands that you wished so badly to wipe clean off the bodies of other women move up from the bottom of your back to move you impossibly closer until you are almost one. His voice is ragged when he pulls away, a thin thread of saliva still connecting you.

He says against your cheek, “I love you. I’d die for you. Nobody can ever give you what I could make the pain go away like I could, not even that dense fuck who has a deeper sense of self-preservation than his parents.”

You swallow, agonised by the sudden slow pace that he moves. Not an ounce of energy dared to waste to defend your ex. “I will love you anywhere.”

You shiver at the raw and pure intensity that laced the declaration. You almost want to ask, to hear how. But you don’t think your mind could properly comprehend the ability to piece together the right words to ask.

His heart is pounding from beneath your fingers as you feel the pulse on his neck, almost leaping it out as if all it wants is for you to finally claim it as yours. Encase it in a glass case and put it on display for all else to see.

“In a bookstore, by the water fountain, the sidewalk, in the flames of your home.” His hands come down to your hips, his fingers digging in so harshly that by morning sunlight, purple will be painted on your skin but it feels so heavenly that you don’t push them away.

“I love you, not for the protection you provide and for your substantial looks, but for all the small things you do that bear your soul to me.” 

Your hands meet around the back of his neck as he carries you by your thighs towards his bed. Pulling at the fabric that keeps him away from you.

“I’ll love you even as you tell me you hate me. I love you enough that I will scour the face of this earth for a place where I can take you away from your nightmares.” 

“I-“ He sighs into your lips, completely delighted by the intimacy that only his mind could conjure up in the lone nights. “I love you.”

You move for the buttons of his polo, while he moves to pull your shirt from you. A race that leaves you both fumbling when you feel his hand carving a path against your waist and up to your chest. You are left scalding, tiny bounces of light flickering in your eyes.

“I will be at your string’s end.”

masterlist

[lani-heart]

|| series masterlist || next // previously ||

genre(s) -> angst, fluff, non-idol, hybrid au, poly au paring(s) -> choi san x reader x jung wooyoung warning(s) -> abuse, mentions of physical health, cursing, etc. words -> 3K

abstract -> is readoption really a good idea...

y/n's perspective

I admit… I needed to get myself together. I should’ve when he broke up with me in the first place. Instead, I relied on working and even then I hit a brick wall. 

When I got San I had an idea for this novel. 

Hybrids who rebelled against society’s expectations. It made me think what if they fought to be equal without having to live like animals?

I was at another block, however… and even Wooyoung refused to see me again. 

So I was shocked when I heard from Kun that San wanted to speak with me. I was still looking for someone to take him but every look goes away when I say he was anything other than a green-coded hybrid.

He’s an exotic hybrid… and even then no one wanted to even meet him. 

Why? He’s such a pretty hybrid… I could only imagine how much more he would be if he was happy and healthy…

I soon heard the door open and I saw him. I knew he was a yellow code now but seeing him in a different uniform made me smile even if it was slightly. 

“Hello,” I said and he looked nervous. “Adopt Wooyoung,” he said. It threw me off… I’ve thought about it. Especially while being rejected by his owners.

With how I was recently I couldn’t take care of a hybrid after failing with San. “I don’t know if you know how he is… but he’s been in the medical wing for over a month now. He was happy when he smelled you on me when I first met him. Now… he’s like you” he said and I was confused. Like me?

“Lifeless eyes” he muttered. Was that how I looked? Wonyoung compared me to a zombie while Johnny said I look like the trauma patients he sees daily. Yuta even compared me to heartbroken teenagers wanting a tattoo for the first time. 

He, however, saw me as lifeless. Maybe that's the more accurate one…

“Please” he pleaded and I didn’t know if I could. “If it isn’t too much to ask…” He wandered… he looked nervous to ask me. 

“I want you to adopt me again too,” he said and I was shocked. He wanted me to adopt him again? “San, if you want to be home with Wooyoung, I'll look for someone to take you both–” even though I knew that would be near impossible “--I’ll make sure the two of you are together,” I said and he shook his head. 

“I want… I want you to make me happy” he said, bringing my broken promise again. “I don’t think I can–” “You can! Please” he pleaded and I saw how much healthier he looked. I knew his behavior was better. 

“San, I don’t want you to be unhappy in my home. You lasted two days… I don’t think I'm a good person to help–” “No one else ever will. I admit I don’t like humans… I don’t trust you. You did however try…” he said.

I looked at Renjun who was by the door. He smiled softly.  “Kun agrees,” he said and I sighed. I smiled softly. 

“Then, I'll make sure to change your mind, San. Not all humans are bad!” 

san's perspective

I wasn’t in favor of being domesticated… trusting someone who could very well end up killing me one day. It was better than living in a cage… or was it?

I’m basically leaving behind the metal bars for luxurious walls. 

I’ll truly be a pet now…

She smiled softly but her eyes showed anxiety. They shook slightly… it didn’t seem like she was scared of me. So what was she scared of?

We were now waiting for the fox to come out. She wouldn’t stop bouncing her leg as we waited in silence. Almost a suffocating silence. 

“y/n-nie!!” I heard a yell as we stood up and he ran up to her. Easily picked her up and swung her as he held her tight. She was surprised but laughed. She eased up in his arms. 

“I’m sorry they abandoned you, Woo,” she said as she rubbed his back and buried her face in his shoulders. His smile turned soft instead of an excited grin. 

“You’ll be better than them!” he exclaimed. 

“I’ll try my best,” she said and he chuckled. “You already are!” he said. These two were close… Why did I choose again to help the fox?

“Wooyoung, you’ve met San right?” she asked as he put her down and smiled at me. “He’s my new best friend!!” he said… I did not agree with that.

“Let’s go home,” she said. Home? I guess it was the closest I'll ever get.

We got back to the place. It was the same…

“Woah!! It's a big upgrade from your old place!!” Wooyoung said. “Mhmm! Oohh, you guys can have your own room. I know San wouldn’t feel comfortable maybe?” she suggested and we nodded. I did not want to share with the hyper fur ball. 

“I still don’t understand why they left you there,” she said and he smiled softly. “Well, they didn't… They left me at the Seoul Hybrid Adoption Center. I was too much for them to handle so they took me for treatment to the kennel” he said with his ears down. 

He was in the same place I was. 

“I did meet this doberman!! He was so cool, I kinda miss him. For sure he got adopted though!!” he yelled. Just how loud was he…

“y/n-nie!!” he said, grabbing her attention. “Are you any better?” he asked and she smiled softly. “I’m getting there,” she said. Better from what?

“Go get situated!  Oh, and San the bags are still in your room so you can choose anything you want. Wooyoung I’ll get you some more clothes soon” she said as she went to her room. 

“She got you clothes?” he asked and I nodded. “What did you mean by better?” I asked and he sighed. “She’s… a lonely kid,” he said sadly. 

Lonely?

“Her parents don’t really give her any attention. They just give her money to survive… She disappointed them by becoming a writer. I remember her sobs at the old apartment. She was just in high school and she lived by herself. She had no one to take care of her when she was sick or to come back with warm food. She could barely even cook herself” he said.

The trust fund kid was lonely…

I promised Wooyoung I'd make them happy. Y/n still didn't have my trust nor did he but I wanted to protect her.

“There was this really bad time she came back completely drenched in rain crying outside her door. She came back from school after her activities… Did you know she was a student council president? Ooh!! She was also the president of the yearbook in her class–" "You're getting distracted” I cut off. He really knew a lot about her and talked in admiration. 

“Oh… yeah. She came back and it was a heavy rain alert that day. She came back very late and luckily nothing bad happened to her. But she forgot her key inside and the services of the apartment were closed for how late it was. She cried so much the next day that her eyes were red and her cheeks puffy. My owner wasn't home so I talked to her. She didn't want my help but I helped break into her apartment and made her warm food.-- '' he said. I could see his worry.

“--she barely even kept food in her fridge. She had a huge fever that night so I stayed over to take care of her. When I told my owner they called her parents but they didn’t really care. They called her later scolding her for being careless with her health and not even her mother came to see her” he said and I felt a little bad. 

A kid in high school? She would’ve been young… she must've felt… abandoned.

“She would always go out with friends but come back only to cry. I could never understand it. She told me she felt lonely. She had no one despite having friends who took care of her. She would always lie to them.” he said and I sighed. 

“They had to have known,” I said and he nodded. “Her closest friends are Wonyoung, Chenle, and Shotaro. She has a lot of friends but… she never seems to ever be happy” he explained. 

I’ve heard of Shotaro… and I've seen Wonyoung. Who was Chenle?

“I didn’t know she knew Kun or any of them in the facility,” he explained. “She won’t feel lonely though!!” he exclaimed and I was curious about how things would play out. 

“Not with us around. You’ll also fulfill your promise!” he explained. I nodded as I followed him to the hall of our rooms. 

Someone who is left alone in their own thoughts… Was that someone who could be trusted?

What Wooyoung said didn’t make sense. She seemed happy… livelier around him. I did notice she had pathetic attempts at cooking, and she was busier recently. 

She didn’t seem lonely.

“Do you have to go out tonight?” Wooyoung asked her and she only smiled. “I do. Wonyoung has been restless recently. She’s having me go to this party tonight” she said and I almost scoffed at her excuse. 

Trust fund kid… yeah right, she wasn’t lonely. She was probably only bored. 

Probably get bored of me.

“You have San to keep you company okay?” she said and I realized how she was dressed. In a designer dress, jewelry is probably as expensive as a house.

“She’s really pretty” he muttered to himself as the elevator closed and she waved us goodbye. “Get a grip. She’s a human” I said and he sighed. “I know… but how can I help myself, when I've had this crush for years now?” he asked and I sighed. 

The fox was wrapped around her pinky…

“I’m gonna start cooking for us!” he said changing the subject. He started becoming the chef of the apartment which y/n allows. He even ordered groceries with recipes he wanted to try out. She’s even gotten him a collection of recipe books. 

I was going back to my room when I noticed her room was open. 

I decided to go inside… I never saw her room. It had a mountain of clothes on her bed and a bunch of shoes on the floor. 

What caught my attention was the bunch of papers… I picked one up. It was a story… I saw on the pile the title was ‘Circus’

“Get a grip, Kyong! Humans are nothing but monsters. They’ll only eventually hurt us. We need to escape this hell hole!” he yelled in desperation.  Young had enough of entertaining people whilst he got hurt, punished, berated, and so much more.  “But how? We would never survive out there Yong”  Kyong said as he tried to soothe the burning sensation on his arms from his punishment earlier.  “Then we’ll die trying. I think it's time hybrids created a revolution–

She was a writer. 

She was also human… not an experiment gone wrong decades ago to be made as a pet. 

Yet, how did she know how hybrids viewed humans? The inner desire to live freely but can’t because of survival.

I don’t how long I was here but I heard Wooyoung screaming my name.

I left her room bewildered and curious. 

“Foods ready!” He said and I smiled. “Hey, Wooyoung? You mentioned once she was a writer?” I asked and he nodded.

“She mentioned wanting to study journalism. I wonder if she did… I remember my old owners buying newspapers and I even saw her name! And then one day I saw her book on the shelves!!” He said proud, almost like her number one fan.

“I convinced them to get me her books… I only ever read two of them. One of them is about hybrids and humans hunting each other, the other is about a bunch of short stories in one book. Different stories on different news stories of abuse on hybrids” he said.

She wrote mainly on hybrids…

“She’s known as a hybrid activist,” he explained. “Then why would she adopt us? Wouldn’t that be out of her morality?” I asked confused and he shook his head.

“I asked her one day if she ever thought of adoption. She said yeah… but only if it were to help a hybrid out and if she was in a good position to care for one” he explained.

She did help me…

We ate as Wooyoung kept talking about y/n… he knew so much about her despite not seeing her for years. “Oh there was also this one time she… uhm San?” he asked and I waited for him to ask what he wanted. 

“Shouldn’t she already be back? It's pretty late” he said and I noticed it was dark out now. Where was she?

“Is she gonna be okay?” Wooyoung asked me but I didn’t know. At least an hour passed when we heard the elevator. “y/n!!” Wooyoung yelled hopefully.

It was a man with y/n on his shoulder. She was drunk…

“Hello… unfortunately y/n here is drunk,” he said and she giggled. “I’m not drunk!” she said, clearly drunk. 

“I’ll take her!” Wooyoung said and the guy almost looked reluctant. “Be careful with her okay? She’s had a long night” he said as he carefully placed her on Wooyoung’s back and I noticed she had a jacket around her waist covering her. 

Were they together? 

“Please take good care of her” he asked and we nodded as we walked to her room. “Why’d you take so long y/n?” Wooyoung asked and she hummed. “I already told you. My hybrids hate me… I doubt they’d want me back so soon” she muttered and Wooyoung and I shared a look. 

“What makes you think that?” he asked. 

“San, did I mention he was pretty? He almost looks like one of those hybrids you’ll see in modeling… maybe even those influencer stars. I… wanna find him a good home…” she said and I felt myself freeze… find me a home?

“What? But… What about me?” Wooyoung asked… “You said you couldn’t take care of hybrids… you’re always in your shop anyway to care for them, Yuta,” she said… she must've mistaken him for the guy who brought her here. 

“What about the fox?” I asked and he smiled softly. “He’s just like I remember… but I don’t think I can separate the two. Even as much as I missed Woo’s comfort” she said and I didn’t want to leave. 

“What if San doesn’t want to leave?” I asked and she sighed. “There's no way he wants to stay… he’s only there for Wooyoung. He forced himself to even greet me… he even flinches when I enter the room,” she said. 

“You should get some rest,” Wooyoung said and she nodded. “I’ll miss them…” she said as she curled up on her bed and we heard her change her breathing. 

“We should watch over her to make sure she’s okay,” Wooyoung said and I nodded.  “I don’t want to leave this place,” I said and he looked at me shocked. 

“Why are you surprised?” I asked and he shook his head. “It's just that… well you do immediately shift when she enters a room. You change your posture… you become almost submissive. It's like you're trying to be an obedient hybrid” he explained… 

“It just seems like you aren’t comfortable here…” he explained and I sighed. “I don’t think I've felt comfortable in years, Wooyoung,” I said and he sighed. 

“Do you think she’ll actually give us away?” he asked and I felt panicked at the thought.

“I really hope not” 

y/n's perspective

Waking up a hangover isn’t something anyone enjoys. 

“Oh! You’re awake!” Wooyoung said excited like he always does… I couldn’t be mad at his happiness. “Wooyoung try being a little more calm. Her head probably hurts” I heard San? 

“Ah, sorry. Here you should drink this” he said as he gave me a cup of what I assumed to be the hangover solution I keep in the kitchen. 

“I also have breakfast ready,” Wooyoung said and I nodded. “Let me get out of yesterday’s clothes,” I said and he nodded. 

I got out of the dress I was in and washed off the makeup I had on. I put on more comfortable clothes for the day.

I now find myself in the kitchen where I see my two hybrids waiting for me. “You shouldn’t get out so late like that. We were worried” Wooyoung said and I was shocked. 

They were worried for me? “Oh… I'm sorry” I apologized. 

“y/n?” San asked and I looked at him confused. “I wanna thank you for everything,” he said as he bowed. “What? San–” he soon even got down on his knees confusing me as to why he was suddenly doing this.

“I don’t remember the last time a human offered me the kindness you have. Please, just give me time to get used to this new lifestyle. I wanna give being a pet a chance” he said and I was confused as to what got in his head. 

“San you aren’t a pet to me,” I said and his ears twitched. “The both of you aren’t pets… I told you when I first adopted you. All I wanted is a companion” I said and he sat up to look up at me. 

“A companion?” he asked and I nodded. “A friend… I don’t expect anything in return. I promise” I said and he nodded. I soon felt a tight grip around me. I felt the familiar warmth that often comforted me years ago. 

“Please don’t get rid of us!” Wooyoung yelled and I petted his head. “I promise,” I said… maybe I mentioned what I was thinking yesterday. I looked at San who only stared… I stretched out a hand to him, silently telling him to join us. 

He hugged me and Wooyoung tightly as well. 

“I promised to make you happy… and I extend that to you too, Wooyoung”

@wonuangel @danirael @angelsaway @krissroo @minkysmilk @mayonnaise-on-toast @robertsbbygirl @superbbananananana @hyukssunflower @kitty4hwa @justconniez @senpai-of-doom @kibs-and-bits @caityelise99 @ilovekinny @ateezennie23 @wooahaelemons @purplelady85 @watamotee33@chidess97 @littlelostdemonofthelight @maliamaiden @burntarm1n @spooo00oky @eastleighsblog @momo-peachy @kitstar1117 @quartzpirate @sunnyhokyu @iwishiwasrichasfuck @theginger543210 @pandolinka @ddaeing @kpopnightingale @slid3er @kekdo-520 @puppyminnnie @sparklinghwa222 @calicanbeevil @itsvxlentine @atinism @loumin908 @smally97 @rxnexxi @acetruepunk @majesticbeluga @namjooncrabs @tashizxy @itstheghostofmypast @smilefordongil @teeziny @totallynotlyntv @kyeos4ng @prodsh00ky @acescavern

please don't be a silent reader !! reblog, comment, and like <3

[bamboobooshark]

YOUR WADE WILSON’S HEADCANONS WERE SO GOOODDDDDD PLS DO MORE WADE STUFF OMG <33

WADE WILSON X READER

⋆༺𓆩⚔︎ DELICIOUS : 872 WRDS

<RATING: PG-13, DESCRIPTION OF A MAKEOUT, BITING>

A/N : More Wade due to popular request! Which I didn’t expect at all because I thought I wrote him out of character BUT THE CROWD SAYS OTHERWISE (and I’m hugging the crowd so hard, thank you all deeply for the compliments)!!!! No additional warnings than the rating!

You groan in anguish while sitting on your couch. Wade said he’d “be home in a jiffy” thirty minutes ago when you called him. Maybe you should call him again. Yeah, you’ll call him again.

The phone rings once before he picks up. He grunts while fumbling to get his phone positioned between his shoulder and cheek. “Hey, pumpkin! Did something happen? Is everything okay? What’s up,” he asks with the most excited tone, sounding absolutely thrilled just to hear your voice. You let out a huff while shaking your head. “No, nothing’s wrong. I just miss you so badly. Please come home, Wade,” you whine, pouting even if Wade can’t see it himself. He laughs at your whining as he slips his phone into his hand. “I’ll be there soon. I pinky promise, okay,” he says with a sincere tone. You exhale deeply and hum in agreement. “Okay, but you better not be lying again. If you are, you’re sleeping on the couch,” you threaten. Wade audibly gasps. “The couch? Oh, you wouldn’t dare,” he challenges with a playful tone. “I so would,” you reply. “Good thing I’m not lying then,” he says before he hangs up on you. You’re about to grab the nearest pillow and scream into it before you hear Wade open the door.

You get up from the couch and run up to him happily. “Oh my god! I missed you, you idiot,” you chuckle as your arms wrap tightly around his waist. He pretends to start choking and gasping for air. “Holy shit, baby! If I could die it’d be from your sweet self crushing my bones so hard they puncture a lung,” he jokes. You ignore his words and hug him a little bit harder just for saying that. Once you pull back and look into his eyes, he points towards something with his gaze. You look where his eyes are guiding you, and he’s holding a tube of chapstick. Your grip around him loosens and you frown with nothing but love for him. “Oh come on. You didn’t have to go out for that long just to get me some new chapstick. I told you I could’ve gotten some myself,” you insist while looking at Wade. He does nothing but give you a goofy smile in response. “But I did, sugar. I really, really did,” he assures you before kissing your nose.

“Now, how about we — sorry, you try it? I meant you. I bought this for you,” he corrects with a straight face. You shake your head because you know exactly what he intends to do. You sigh softly and take the chapstick out of his hand, watching him eye you intently while you put it on. “Holy Mary, mother of Jesus, you are just stunning,” he mutters softly. “Wade! Stop that,” you exclaim before playfully hitting his arm. He rubs his bicep as if you made him experience the worst pain ever, frowning like an abandoned puppy from your actions. He mumbles a soft sorry while letting you finish applying the chapstick.

“Oh! That’s really nice. Where’d you get this,” you ask with wide eyes. Wade simply shrugs and smiles before grabbing you with one hand on your back and one under your thigh. “C’mere you,” he grunts. He butts his forehead against yours like a cling cat, humming happily. You are completely silent aside from the heavy breaths caused by Wade’s sudden actions. “What the hell was that for,” you ask through a nervous laugh. “I don’t need to explain for that was for. Now, let me try some of your chapstick. I bought it, so it’s fair game,” he teased before leaning forward to press his lips onto yours.

He sighs against your soft skin, brows knitting together tightly. Your hands go from his shoulders to the back of his head and you ever so slightly dig into his flesh. He pulls back, eyes wide and expectant. “I think I need to get another taste,” he mumbles almost mindlessly while attempting to keep up his usual attitude. “And I’d be glad to give it to you,” you manage to huff out before tightening your legs around his waist a bit more. Wade tries his best to be as close as possible to you while holding you in his arms. He fingers dig into your thighs and the hand on your back juts to press you closer against him. He bites at your bottom lip, panting heavily. You’re quick to let him in, your tongues pressing as he tastes you. You whine into his mouth and the bastard smiles against you. As much as you want to slap him for smiling right now, you don’t blame him for feeling so giddy.

He moves cautiously over to the couch, sitting you down on his lap carefully. He unlatches himself from your lips and looks up at you with his big, brown eyes that look so pitifully pretty in the moment. You’ve never seen him so star struck during your makeout sessions. “What’s up,” you ask with a slightly concerned look on your face. His lips form the smallest smile before he whispers to you, “Nothing. You’re just so damn delicious, baby.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Dirty Work 5

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: Let's see if I make it through Monday.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

At Corissa’s insistence, and against your own reticence, you have a taste of nearly every course. The fiery red head gabs animatedly in her work, to her assistants and the servers, and even to you. You feel something very peculiar; you feel included.

That pleasant sensation is as fleeting as the night. The servers bring in the dishes, many untouched, and you clean them attentively, keeping the counters clear of clutter. Corissa mutters about the waste and has the leftovers scraped into containers, promising them to her hardworking staff. She even offers you one but you refuse, you’ve indulged enough. You suspect Mr. Laufeyson would be less than pleased to see you walking out with a to-go box.

You are not requested again to tend to the diners. Voices carry from down the hall and the front door opens and shuts between farewells. Amid the hue, you do not hear Mr. Laufeyson though you try not to listen intently.

Corissa and her staff depart with their work done and you’re left to clean up. It’s near midnight. You’re surprised at how long the gathering lasted and yet, you wouldn’t know what to expect. You’d never attended anything like that. You didn’t even go to your own high school graduation.

There’s a scuff and a shadow darken’s the edge of your vision. You lift your head to find Mr. Laufeyson crossing the threshold, his polished shoes clicking on the tile. You dip your head in acknowledgement and return to stacking the dishes neatly inside the cupboards.

“Do not forget the dining room. My guests proved to be animals,” he scoffs, “though, what use would you be if they didn’t leave you some work?”

You nod again. You close the cupboard door and move to the stemmed crystal. You open the glass cabinet that holds the various liquor vessels. You set each in tidy lines, following the pattern.

You wait for him to leave but he remains. Is he watching you or are you just paranoid? You clasp the door shut and face him, though you’re not intent on him. The dining room. You hope you might finish it quickly. You glance at the clock again.

“Do you recall what I told you at the beginning of the night?” He asks brusquely.

You gulp and part your lips, your words trapped in your chest.

“Speak,” he demands with a flippant flick of his fingers.

“Yes, I do, Mr. Laufeyson–”

“Not a look, not a word,” he retorts.

“Mr. Laufeyson, I didn’t–”

“The blond man. I saw your eyes stray,” he insists, “the worst thing you can ever do is lie to me.”

“I… I apologise, it wasn’t– I didn’t mean to–”

“Ah, enough,” he dismisses your protests, “this isn’t an argument. I am merely reminding you of the rules. I do hate to repeat myself.”

You seal your lips and put your chin down in deference. You made a mistake. You’re wrong, he’s right.

“Now you know. I expect it not to happen again,” he rebukes.

His sole squeaks on the floor as he spins and struts out. You look around, time to move on to the dining room. You tiptoe out and find the hallway empty. You creep down to the dining room and find it similarly abandoned.

You enter and begin your work. You wipe down the table and tidy little bits of food and forgotten napkins. You push in the chairs and remove a broken stem from one of the vases at the centre line of the table.

The clock ticks and heightens your impatience. You have to hurry if you’re going to catch the bus. If you don’t… you don’t know if you can budget a cab.

“There is another thing,” Mr. Laufeyson gives you a start as he appears through the archway, “something forgotten…”

You look at him with confusion stitched into your forehead. He reaches into his jacket and slips out a pinkish slip of paper. It’s folded into quarters with a curl in one corner. You recognise it immediately.

“I assume you didn’t mean to leave it on the floor,” he sneers as he comes closer, holding it between his index and middle fingers, “I almost tossed it but I did peruse it in case… Well, I don’t mean to pry…”

You take it and nearly thank him aloud. You look at the folded invoice and a cringe pinches your cheeks. You didn’t even realise you’d dropped it. You would prefer to forget about it but that would hardly void the debt.

“You look well,” he muses. You flinch; what does he mean? “I did note it was for the same date you were absent however.”

You tuck the invoice into your pocket and fix another chair. He lurks close as you try not to falter. He puts his hand on the next chair to stop you.

“You may speak. Humour my intrigue. You don’t appear very sick.”

You close your eyes and take a deep breath. It feels as if he’s making some joke you don’t understand. Your lips strain and you stare at his tie.

“My father had an emergency, Mr. Laufeyson. That is all. He is better now.”

“Ah, a loyal daughter,” he remarks, “it is almost endearing.”

You stand in a stalemate. Your eyes drift over to the clock and back to his slender tie. You’re almost done and you’ll have just enough time to get to the stop.

“I suppose you are eager,” he steps in between you and the clock, “to get home to your sick father.”

You clutch the cloth tight and scrunch your lips. Your stomach does somersaults. You want to beg him to let you finish so you can go home. So you’re not stranded but you already made yourself pathetic enough.

“I am not a man without empathy, I would not keep you long. However, I do wish to have a proper conversation,” he declares.

You nod and wring the cloth. You dare to peek at his face and find his attention on your hands. You still them and drop your eyes again. Is he going to fire you? Rather, tell the agency of your misdeeds?

“I would assume you rely on transit. I am in a rather bright mood after my little soiree so I feel of a mind to offer a favour. One which would allow us to converse,” he rolls the button of his jacket between his thumb and index, “I would drive you home and you would listen, yes?”

You nod and he shows his palm.

“Say it.”

“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson. That is very kind.”

“Isn’t it?” He preens and swirls away again, “ten minutes should be sufficient for you to wrap up. I will be at the door.”

“Yes. Mr. Laufeyson.”

“Wonderful,” he strolls out, his unusual glee putting you on guard.

🧹

As promised, Mr. Laufeyson is waiting at the front door. You only realise after checking the back door. You don’t feel good about accepting an unearned favour but the last bus is well and gone.

He opens the door as he sees you enter the foyer. To your surprise, he holds it for you to pass through first. You suppose it's a habit. He is fond of etiquette.

He follows and directs you to a sleek black car in the drive. You wait patiently at the passenger door as he unlocks it and lowers himself into the driver’s seat. It’s only then that you get in, gently closing the door. You put your kit between your feet and click your seat belt into place.

He turns the ignition and the engine hums quietly. It runs so smoothly, you barely feel it. He backs up before steering around the arch of driveway and towards the gate. He reaches to hit a button on the small fob dangling by the rear view and the wider gates split for him to pass through.

You wait for him to begin. He must be basking in your anticipation. Less than eager for what comes next, it's more a needling anxiety. 

“So, let us get down to it,” he begins, one hand on the wheel. The roads are near desolate in the late hour. “I’ve a proposition for you.”

You wait and listen. You assume that’s the deal still. He chuckles and carries on.

“An arrangement convenient for both of us. You see,” he pauses, exhaling as he measures his words, “I am not fond of the agency. I’ve not been for some time, neither have I had the time to search for an alternative. 

“Details are irrelevant. My ex-wife enlisted them for a maid. Just as she employed the gardener and the cook. She might be gone but her handiwork remains, though a very big void as well,” he turns down the next street as you twiddle your fingers, “that is too say, she managed the house and without her, I find myself lacking. I’ve not even the chance to acquire a house manager, but now…”

He lets his suggestion dangle but you’re not quite sure you understand. You hate to presume. Hate to think more of yourself than you should.

“What I’m proposing is that you step into her shoes. In the manner of taking on that management. The gardener, the cook, general maintenance and the like,” he explains, “but of course, you would also keep to your existing tasks, keep the house orderly in all ways.”

You still your hands and stare at your lap. You don’t really believe it. He thinks you capable of all that? Based on what? Some mopping?

“You are rather adept at following orders,” he says, “and you are in need of money, yes?”

You hunch down in shame.

“I will pay more than the agency for I would not take a cut as they do. You will be compensated appropriately for your efforts,” he assures, “as they would lessen mine.”

You look over the dash and at the road ahead. Your father will be home soon, he might need more help, and yet, you most certainly need money. You still have over a month left on probation and even after, you’re not guaranteed full-time hours.

“There would be a starting bonus,” he intones, filling the silence, “fifteen hundred. As an incentive.”

Your eyes burn. That’s what the invoice reads in red. He’s taunting you now. He knows that you need it badly. 

“This offer stands until you leave this car,” he says firmly, “so you may think about it.”

You blanch and keep your eyes forward. You can think all you want but that won’t change anything. There is no other answer. Even if it makes you nervous, even if you find that house stifling, and him terrifying. None of it matters. You need that money as much as your father needs you.

“I accept, Mr. Laufeyson,” you murmur. “I will do my best.”

He hums, a triumphant note, “I expect nothing less.”

🧹

You’re greeted by an empty house. It was too late to even think of going to the hospital. You wouldn’t want to wake your father during his recovery, and besides, his dejection sticks in your head. He told you not to come back.

You go to bed but don’t sleep very much. It’s hard in the lonely house. You want to tell your father that you got a new job. That you’re going to be able to pay for his hospital bills and that you’ll make things better. You will, when he gets home.

What has you just as wakeless is Mr. Laufeyson. He said you could start tomorrow. You’re nervous about that. Your only experience is the last month and a half of cleaning. He might expect more than you can do. Worse, you might not be able to meet those expectations.

You toss and turn, sleeping a few hours just before your alarm. You have your tea and get dressed. You bring your kit, just in case, and head out to catch the bus. You don’t like being in the house alone so you’re all too happy to get out.

You walk the block and a half from the bus stop. You realise as you come to the iron gate that you don’t have the new code. You stand cluelessly, locked out and listless. You notice the small button by the metal speakerbox. Does it work?

You tap the bell and wait. Nothing. You even lean in to listen to the speaker. It’s entirely dead. You try again. Still, nothing.

You lean in and peer through the bars, like a prisoner. The front door opens and Mr. Laufeyson appears, a harried pace with a hint of agitation. He comes to the other side and looks out at you. His eyes scan you from head to toe. He opens the gate from within.

“In, in,” he demands curtly, “are you not supposed to make my life easier?”

You step in and he swings the door shut harshly. He huffs and swiftly outpaces you back towards the door. You hesitate. You never go in that way.

“Do not waste my time,” he orders without looking back.

You jog to catch up with him. You hop up the steps behind his lithe gait and trail him inside. He stops and points to the mat. You leave your shoes on it even as he keeps his own on.

“I’ve a list made up. That is sufficient, yes?”

You nod and he sighs. He’s already moving as you slipping in an effort to keep up.

“Speak,” he drawls.

“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson.”

“Very good,” he praises, a lilt of condescension dripping from his lips. “I trust you sent your resignation in. I would be happy to cut ties from that cursed agency at the soonest opportunity.”

You bite your lip. You didn’t even think of that. Your silence is telling.

“Add it to the list,” he says derisively.

[unrealmirrorball]

ꢾ꣒ dancing with your ghost - rafe cameron

warnings: mention of death, drug use and overdose, angst

an: english is not my first language, so if something is wrong, you can tell me 🫶

rafe always thought he might not be worthy of love. his mother abandoned him, his father never cared, and his sisters were a lost cause. when you moved to outer banks and showed a willingness to (foolishly) ignore everyone who said being with rafe cameron wouldn’t bring anything good, he hesitated to accept that you could really love him. after all, why would such a sweet person waste pure love on a broken man? but you didn’t give up on him; despite all the bad things he did, you always stayed, and that was your downfall.

i’m a bomb, i will always explode and hurt everyone around me. i should never have let she gets close to me.

“don’t think that,” said a gentle voice. i wasn’t sure where it was coming from, but i would recognize that tone anywhere. “i made my own choices, i chose to be with you.” please, not again.

i don’t deserve your comfort, i ruined your life. my eyes hurt, but i couldn’t help but squeeze them shut, no longer sure if there were even tears left in my body. “baby, you never forced me to do anything.” but you would never have sniffed anything if it weren’t for me, you never would have done drugs. even though it had been almost a year, the memories still played like a movie in my head. i could clearly see her body convulsing in front of me while i he was too high to even call for help. you were always too good for me, i ruined you because i couldn’t accept that what everyone said was true: you shouldn’t be with me. now tears streamed furiously down my face, but I couldn’t bring myself to care.

for a moment, i almost felt a light touch like a feather on my cheek, but it was a fleeting comfort, like a whisper. “i already told you, i made my own choices and had to deal with the consequences. but you can’t end your life over this, baby. you’re so messed up that you don’t even know if I’m real or just a drug-induced effect.” you’re not real because you’re dead. “well, then you don’t know if i’m a ghost or a hallucination.” i knew it was my mind playing tricks on me, but I could clearly hear the mockery in her voice. why won’t you leave me alone? “rafe, darling, it’s you who keeps bringing me here. your drugged mind, your laments for the dead—whatever you prefer to believe. but I like to think you choose to mourn for me; after all, ward is also dead, and i believe i never saw him here.”

i was beyond madness, crying while talking to the ghost—hallucination?—of my dead girlfriend. maybe this was just a dream, or maybe i was convulsing too. if i died, could i find you? “baby, it’s not your time yet, please. you can still find a reason to live.” i didn’t want to find a reason to live; i want to be with you.

i could feel that i had made her upset, and i could feel her energy slipping away, and suddenly i felt panic spreading through my body. please, don’t go! i can't be alone here again, i have nothing left. if i had doubted that my body could produce more tears, i was now sure it would never stop, and tears were all i could feel as my vision blurred and my breath grew shorter. i could sense my consciousness slipping away, but not for the reason i wanted. “get some sleep. i won’t be here when you wake up, but i promise i’ll keep watching over you.” and just like that, i slept, knowing i would wake up alone again.

[rheabl00dyripley]

"I'm glad you didn't either."

This is a second chance romance where the reader had broken up with Sam two years ago, despite staying friends with Colby and Tara. It makes things a little difficult, but things had never become an issue. Until now.

Pairing: Sam Golbach x Reader

Warnings: smut, dirty talk, unprotected p in v, pet names (sir, baby), Sam hating her rebound ex,  Sam being scared of abandonment, fluff, slight angst

18+ only, MDNI. If you’re under the age of 18, I don’t care if you read my work, just please do not interact with the works that I publish <3

It had been years. Years. Since we had last spoken. Sure, I’ve stayed friends with Colby. I don’t see why that would be a problem.

But clearly after all of this time, Sam can’t handle the fact that I still want to be around a friend of his after everything he had done to me.

(2 weeks prior)

I had just gotten ready with Tara for something she was dragging me to, unbeknownst to me who would be there or what would be there.

I tried coaxing her into telling me, but she kept telling me, “Be patient, (y/n). You’ll enjoy it, I promise!”

Not so sure that I’d enjoy it, I reluctantly agreed, knowing that Colby would most likely be there, alongside Jake. Internally, a part of me had been hoping and begging that Sam wouldn’t try and weasel his way into this gathering, knowing it would be the death of my internal being.

But just for him, a part of me would let it happen.

I have had to shut that part of me down several times. When he had left me for no reason back two years ago, I swore I’d never go back to him, swore to myself that I’d never put myself through that kind of torture ever again. 

Cutting me out of my thoughts, Tara had walked up to me in the store with a silk red dress, one that looked like it would barely cover me. I looked at her sheepishly with a skeptical undertone, making her giggle nervously.

“C’mon (y/n)! It’s so cute, you’d look gorgeous in it!”

I rolled my eyes and grabbed the dress from her to further examine it, imagining myself in it. I’ve always known that I’m not the best looking person. But, I decided to listen to Tara this time. Recently dealing with yet another breakup from the rebound to heal from Sam, it didn’t necessarily hurt me, just another inconvenience. 

Tara shooed me to the nearest dressing room and I smiled warmly at the girl, knowing that she only has the best of intentions for me.

Walking into the dressing room and locking the door behind me, I sighed, feeling relief wash over me in this tiny confined space. I hung the beautiful dress on one of the hangers inside of the dressing room and looked at myself in the mirror, taking in everything with my current appearance.

I haven’t worn makeup since my first date with my rebound, and it made me want to do it again, to wear the makeup I want with this red dress.

I slipped out of my t-shirt and baggy low rise jeans, staring at my half-naked body in the mirror, pointing out every flaw about myself that Sam once adored. How he used to tell me how beautiful I was, how I had nothing to be insecure about, and I missed that feeling. The feeling as if I was on top of the world with nothing to deal with, just there with the one I love. Loved. The one I loved.

“Does it fit?”

I hear Tara’s voice from behind the door and it, once again, pulls me from my thoughts. I quickly grab the dress and unzip the back, sliding myself into the material. I gasp when I take in myself in the mirror, how even with the dress unzipped it made me look ethereal. I tried to zip the dress up myself, feeling a little uneasy with how low the back was and how small the zipper was. 

I got it zipped and released a breath I didn't realize I had been holding, looking at myself from many different angles to ensure I got the right look of how this dress fit me.

I lowered my head and opened the door, smiling sheepishly as Tara took in my appearance with a gasp and a squeal, running up to hug me.

“Oh my god (y/n) it looks beautiful on you!”

Her comment alone made me feel flustered, fidgeting with my hands in embarrassment. I muttered a small “thank you” before returning into the dressing room and slipping out of the dress, putting it back on the hanger and putting my clothing back on before opening the door once more.

I walked out with the dress in hand, smiling at Tara and enjoying how excited she looked.

“I think this is the one.”

I said softly, walking side by side with Tara up to the check-out counter to buy the dress, and leaving once the purchase was made. As we walked to Tara’s car, we began talking about random things, things I don’t remember now. However, one part of the conversation stayed in my head like a broken record.

Tara had just gotten into her car, and I followed suit, placing the bag that the dress was in into the backseat and fastening my seatbelt. Tara had looked at me with a small look of guilt before starting the car and fastening her own seatbelt, taking a deep breath before speaking once more.

“Do you ever miss the relationship you had with Sam?”

As soon as I heard those words, I felt my heart break a little more, the memories of our relationship flooding back to me like I had them locked up for this very moment. I looked at her with a face full of shock, unsure of if I had heard her correctly. 

Once I was sure she had said what she had said, I shuffled in the passenger seat, focusing on the road in front of us as if I was the one driving. I cleared my throat before responding to her, knowing that I could very easily start crying from this conversation alone.

“Uhm… yeah, sometimes, I guess.” I had said softly, my voice merely above a whisper. I had seen her nod in my peripheral, deciding to not say anything else. She handed me her phone and I unlocked it, making sure the bluetooth was connected before playing some early 2000’s music to get me out of the destructive mindset that I had silently entered. The drive back to my house had seemed a lot longer than before, my mind racing with memories of my relationship with Sam, memories that I had shut out once the relationship was over.

Once we had finally made it to my house and Tara pulled into my driveway, stopping the car and turning it off, she looked over at me before opening her door.

“I’m sorry if me bringing it up caused anything bad, I didn’t mean to-”

I cut her off quickly with a shake of my head. “Tara it’s fine, I know you didn’t mean any harm. Let’s just get inside, okay?” She nodded, and I made sure to grab the dress before getting out of her car. 

Once outside, I made my way to my front door, noticing some people inside that weren’t there when we had left earlier. I looked back at Tara and saw her smiling, internally wondering what was going on. Opening the front door, I saw Colby and Jake waiting for us with some food they had grabbed on their way over. 

Colby was the first one to speak, moving towards me with open arms. He had enveloped me in a warm embrace, slightly swaying. “Hey (y/n), how’ve you been?” He said as he pulled away, looking down at me with a smile on his face. I smiled back, pulling away as well. “Been alive, that’s for sure. Nothing too important to speak of though.”

“She just broke up with her rebound.” Tara spoke bluntly, grabbing a piece of garlic bread from the kitchen counter and taking a bite of it, shrugging as I looked over at her in disbelief. Colby whistled in response, not knowing about my activities in the past few weeks. 

I decided to grab some garlic bread as well to try and avoid the conversation, looking over at Jake on my couch and laughing at Tara’s banter with him. 

The four of us had just sat around and ate the food, meaningless conversations filling the room as the hours passed by, the other 3 deciding to head out once the sun began to set.

“We’ll see you in a couple of weeks, got some things to do before then.” Tara had said, offering me a hug that I took, wishing I could disappear in her arms. There was nothing more that I wanted than to just disappear from the world, not needing to care about anything else.

Once we all said our goodbyes and the three had parted, I was left alone with my thoughts, pacing my bedroom as I checked my phone, scrolling through instagram without a care in the world. Until I found it.

A post that Colby had made, tagging Sam in it.

Now, usually this wouldn’t affect me too much because I know they’re best friends and run their youtube channel together, but it was the caption that really got me.

Two more weeks until the boys are reunited!

“They haven’t seen each other in more than two weeks?” I said out loud, my brows furrowing in confusion as I reread the caption and kept looking over the post. They were inseparable, what happened now?

(Back to the present)

Inside of my bathroom after a nice, cold shower, my mind was racing with endless possibilities. I had no idea where we were going, no idea who would be there, and Tara had not let up with the secret. I eyed the red dress that I was going to wear for tonight, knowing that nobody has seen me in a dress since the night before Sam and I had broken up. And that dress? Was red.

It was all too ironic for me. But, I pushed that aside as I slipped into the material, not bothering to put anything on underneath because it would show through the tight fabric. I zipped it up with a sigh, applying my makeup and lip gloss with newfound confidence. As I blow-dried my hair, I heard a knock at my front door. “Come in!” I yelled from my bathroom, finishing up drying my hair and fixing it up as I heard the sound of heels clicking against my hardwood floors, getting closer to the bathroom. The door swung open to reveal Tara in her matching style dress, except hers was black. 

She squealed when she saw me all dolled up, her eyes full of excitement. “Are you ready?” She asked, putting her hands on her hips in anticipation. “Almost, just gotta grab my heels.” I responded, turning off the blow dryer and turning off the light in the bathroom, walking to my room to grab the red high heels that Colby had gotten me for my birthday last year. As I put them on, I saw Tara fidgeting nervously in my doorway.

“What’s up Tara? You alright?” I asked cautiously, standing up once the heels were on and grabbing my black purse, placing my wallet and phone inside, along with a portable charger if it were to be needed. She avoided my gaze and I could tell that there was something she wasn't telling me about tonight. I walked over to my dresser and put on a pair of earrings and the matching necklace, remembering when Sam had gotten me them for our 1 year anniversary 3 years ago. 

I could see Tara watching me from the doorway, nervously chewing on her fingernails. I put on a couple bracelets and walked over to her, putting my hands on her shoulders. “Tara? It’s okay. We’re gonna have fun tonight regardless, alright?” I said, trying to comfort her despite not knowing what was causing all of her nervousness. She nodded and smiled, holding her hand out for me to take.

I took her hand and we walked to the front door, walking out and I locked it behind us, putting my keys in my purse. We walked to Tara’s car, getting in and putting our seatbelts on. She turned the music on this time, starting the car with a giggle and reversing out of my driveway, then starting to drive. 

At this point, I still didn’t know where we were going, all I knew was Tara was here with me and I’d be fine if anything happened.

I was wrong.

As soon as we arrived and got out of the car, I spotted Colby walking inside and someone walking with him, the familiar blonde hair sending a wave of nervousness down my spine.

I looked over at Tara and saw her look at me as well, guilt very much apparent on her face. I smiled warmly at her and nodded towards the front door of the house, noticing now that it was a party at Colby’s house, hosted by him and Sam.

Internally, I made a mental note to avoid Sam at all costs, not wanting to start any drama or even interact with the man. We walked into the house and immediately heard the loud music, getting excited already. We walked over to the drink bar and got ourselves some drinks to ease the obvious tension, doing some shots to distract ourselves. Well, more so to distract me. 

I felt myself cower inside as I saw Colby walk over to me, except he was alone. I let out a sigh of relief when I saw him by himself and gave him a hug and a warm greeting. “Tara told me nothing about this, she just wanted me to come.”

“And I’m glad you did. You look great, by the way. You clean up nicely.” Colby had said, looking me up and down and taking in my appearance, a huge contrast from how I normally look. I giggled nervously and tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear from his compliment, thanking him quietly with a nod. I felt my gaze lingering around the room, immediately landing on Sam. Surprisingly enough, his gaze was already locked on me. I had to look away as fast as possible so I wouldn’t feel how his gaze was burning holes through me with how hard he was staring.

I hadn’t seen him since the breakup and I never felt like I wanted to. He gave me no reason when he left and it hurt. I quickly ordered another shot and threw it back effortlessly, feeling the burn of the alcohol in the back of my throat and sighing at how good it felt.

I looked up at Colby, clearly showing that I was extremely nervous and needed an escape already. “Where’s the bathroom?”

“Down the hall, 2 doors down on the right.”

“Thank you.” I responded, glancing at Sam once more before darting to the bathroom to get away from his gaze. Once I found it, I entered it quickly and locked it behind me, bracing my back against it and sighing. I felt a sense of horror, alongside betrayal towards Tara. She didn’t tell me that he’d be here, and even though I had brushed it off like it was nothing, it truly hurt me.

I didn’t want to be in any proximity to him and I would do everything I could to make sure I wasn’t-

knock knock knock.

I felt my body freeze in terror as I heard the knocks, recognizing the tone immediately. 

“It’s occupied-” 

My own voice felt foreign to me as I spoke, knowing who was on the other side of the bathroom door.

“Open this door, (y/n).”

I gasped when I heard his voice, the sound of anger and desperation evident in it. I felt my body shake at the tone, not daring to move from the door.

I decided to unlock the door and step back from it, knowing if he wanted to come in so badly, he could open the door on his own.

And he did.

I closed my eyes as I heard the door open, then shut, then lock. Hearing the lock, my eyes widened in surprise and fear, seeing the blonde man that I used to love standing in front of me in pure anger.

“Sam?-” I tried to speak, but he wouldn’t let me. I felt myself get turned around and pinned against the bathroom door, a gasp leaving my lips at the familiar feeling, except this time felt desperate.

“Don’t say a word, (y/n). Let me speak.”

I nodded reluctantly, my eyes locking with his own, taking in the desperation and anger that filled them. I felt terrified, being underneath the man after two years of no contact once the breakup had happened sent a shiver down my spine in anticipation, wondering what he would say.

“Let me start by saying that I never wanted to leave you-”

He tried to speak, but I cut him off, my own anger clouding my thoughts.

“Never wanted to? Then why did you! You hurt me, Sam. You did this-”

This time, he cut me off with a strong hand around my throat, silencing me.

“I said let. me. speak.“  

I felt the raw anger radiating from him as his hand tensed around my throat, then releasing and letting his hand fall back at his side as he realized what he did.

“Look, (y/n), I’m sorry. I was forced to leave, I forced myself to leave you. Because I loved you so much it terrified me. I didn’t want to hurt you, and I didn’t want to get hurt either. I just thought that if I broke things off, then neither of us would be hurt.”

“But it didn’t change anything, (y/n). It changed nothing. I love you more than I could’ve ever imagined, and this time without you with me has hurt so badly that I can barely live with myself.”

Dead silence filled the air at his confession, my eyes searching his own for any sign of mockery, but all that I found was raw feelings and desperation, alongside hurt. He had been hurting himself internally when he left, because he thought I couldn’t love him.

“Sam, why didn’t you just tell me? We could’ve worked it out back then-”

“-Because I was scared. I didn’t want you to see me as weak, (y/n). I tried to save myself from being hurt if you decided you didn’t want me anymore.”

I just stood there in disbelief, feeling a surge of different emotions clouding my vision. I wrapped my arms around his neck and felt him shudder against me, feeling his own arms wrap around my waist.

“Sam, there isn’t a moment where I didn’t want you, nor will there ever be one. I love you, I always have.”

He pulled back and this time, he was the one to search my eyes for any mockery, but found none. He smiled at me for the first time in years, and I almost cried right there. 

“I’ve missed that smile.” I said softly, one of my hands reaching up to hold his face in the palm of my hand, feeling him relax into my touch with a sigh.

“I’ve missed you.” He said, his eyes staying locked with my own as he leaned in, his forehead resting against my own, a breathy laugh escaping me. He finally leaned down and captured my lips with his own, the two of us moaning in unison as we felt each other’s lips again, a feeling that neither of us could ever get bored of. 

I felt his hunger as he kissed me, his groans music to my ears as I felt his tongue explore my mouth like it was the first time, his hands exploring my body as if he’d found the holy grail. My body arched into his touch, feeling his body press against me, pinning me against the bathroom door once more. The feeling made me shiver in anticipation as he finally pulled away with a smile, both of us panting as if we had just run a mile.

He tapped my hip to signal me to jump up, and I did, my arms tight around his neck as I jumped up, feeling him hold me with ease, noticing the strength he had gained since we had been together last. My eyes were wide in surprise and I giggled as I looked down at him, his smile warming my heart that had once been shattered from his disappearance. 

I felt him lightly grind against me and I gasped, feeling how hard he was already and how much bigger he had gotten. He looked at me for permission, and I nodded, knowing we both needed this more than anything.

“Have you been with anyone since me?” He asked as he set me down, bending me over the bathroom sink with slight roughness. “Yes- But I never felt anything for him-” I said softly as I tried to look back at him, feeling his fingers tangle in my hair and pull me flush against him. I moaned at the pain of him pulling my hair, feeling the roughness in his grasp.

“No? Miss my cock that much?” He said darkly, a rough tone to his voice that I hadn’t heard since the night before we parted, the dirty talk making me whimper and wiggle my hips in anticipation. He chuckled behind me, releasing his grip from my hair. I heard the jingle of his belt as he undid it, a shiver running down my spine. I felt his hand grip my hip tightly and possessively, a grip that would surely leave bruises despite the thin fabric of my dress.

He pulled up the back of my dress and I shivered as I felt the cold air against my core, a newfound roughness radiating from him at my words. I felt him press against my back, his lips close to my ear as he spoke, his voice husky and rough. “You’re gonna take every single inch, baby. And you’re gonna tell me if that bastard ever fucked you as good as I do, yeah?”

I felt my core pulse in want at his words, an involuntary moan releasing itself from my lips at the tone, not used to his dirty talk and forgetting how rough he can be in situations like this. I nodded, but that wasn’t enough for him. He stood up and pulled my hair once more, a yelp coming from me at the unexpected movement. 

“Words, baby. Talk to me.”

“Yes, sir.”

I heard him groan behind me and he released his grip on my hair once more, letting me fall forward and brace myself against the cold marble sink. I felt him press against my core, a whine leaving me in anticipation. When I finally felt him start to enter, the stretch hurt so deliciously and I whimpered in pain, my eyes shutting tight and my grip on the sink so tight that my knuckles turned white. He didn’t stop, he kept pushing in until all of it was inside of me. I felt so full, and yelped when I felt him lean forward to my ear, the movement sending sparks through me. 

“You alright baby?”

I nodded, knowing that the pain would soon subside and then he could move. I heard him chuckle behind me as he stood back up straight, massaging my hips until he knew I was ready. “Seems like that fucker wasn’t as big as me, huh? Couldn’t fill you up like I can?” 

I shook my head with a whimper as I finally felt the pain subside, a soft moan coming from me at his words and the feeling of his cock inside of me, knowing he was thriving in this situation. I heard him growl behind me and he slapped my ass, causing me to yelp at the pain. 

“God, I missed this pussy so much baby, always gripping me so tight, fuck.”

I felt him start to move inside of me, a loud moan eliciting from me as he pulled all the way out and then slamming back in, pushing me forward against the sink. My cheek against the counter as he ruthlessly pounded into me, pulling my hair to pull me flush against him. 

“Did he ever fuck you like this? Huh?” Sam groaned, letting go of my hair to keep a steady harsh and even thrust as his hand gripped my hips tight enough to bruise, knowing for sure there would be marks there tomorrow that would leave people questioning what had happened.

One of his hands let go of my hip to slide down to my clit, rubbing it at a harsh and vigor pace. “Sam! Fuck!” I moaned out loudly feeling the sensations alongside his thrusts getting me closer and closer to the edge with each passing moment.

“Answer the question, baby. Did. He. Ever. Fuck. You. Like. This.” Each word was enunciated with a hard thrust, pushing me against the sink as loud moans continued to flow from my lips, his motions on my clit never once faltering.

“No! God, no-” I moaned out, feeling his pace speed up at my words, my own release getting closer and closer. I heard him groan loudly behind me as I clenched around him, my pussy taking everything he gave and wanting more. 

“Thought so. Gonna cum for me, baby?” He continued his pace, pounding into me relentlessly. He pulled my hair once more to force me to look into the bathroom mirror, his eyes locking with my own almost making me cum on the spot. He looked disheveled, lost in the pleasure. He was giving me everything, making up for everything he did to hurt me.

“I love you, I’m so sorry baby, didn’t mean to hurt you” I heard him mumble as we both got closer, his hand speeding up on my clit to bring me to the edge first. My eyes rolled back as I felt ecstasy flood my body, my thighs quivering so hard that I would’ve for sure fallen if Sam wasn’t gripping my hips as if his life depended on it. 

“Oh yes baby, keep clenching around me like that, fuck. Gonna fill this pussy, mine, You’re mine, all mine.” I felt him speed up, finally releasing inside of me with one long thrust, holding me close against him while we rode out our highs. 

We were both a panting mess as he finally pulled out of me, feeling myself slump against the sink. He reached behind him to grab a washcloth and reached in front of me to turn on the water, making sure it was warm before turning it off and cleaning us both. I sighed contently as I felt him pull the bottom of my dress back down and I lifted myself back up with my hands steady against the sink, giggling softly and turning around to face Sam, watching him pull his pants and boxers back up.

“What?” He said with a chuckle, fastening his belt and looking at me, seeing my tired expression and soft smile. He pulled me into a warm embrace and wrapped his arms around my waist, my arms wrapping around his neck. 

“I missed you.” I said softly, kissing him lightly and pulling back, seeing his soft smile matching my own. He released his embrace and picked me up bridal style, unlocking the door. “I missed you more, baby. I love you.” He said with a soft kiss planted to the side of my head, opening the door and walking back out to where Tara and Colby were standing and speaking. As soon as they saw me in Sam’s arms looking tired with messy hair and messed up makeup, they knew what happened and chuckled together.

“I’m taking her home, we settled everything.” Sam said quietly as he saw me falling asleep in his arms, grabbing my bag from Tara and nodding at them before heading towards the front door and walking out to his car.

I stirred a little in his arms as he walked, feeling him stop as he got to his car, unlocking it and opening the passenger side to set me down on the seat, putting the seatbelt on for me and placing a soft kiss to my forehead. He closed the door, walked over to the driver’s side and opened the door, getting in and closing the door. He put his own seatbelt on and started the car, looking over at my tired self with a soft warm smile.

“I’m glad I didn’t have Tara spoil the party tonight.” I said softly, looking over at Sam with a small smile. I saw him smile back at me with a nod, placing one hand on my thigh as he began driving.

“I’m glad you didn’t either.”