#When is it appropriate to reply all? Mostly never

[seokgyuu]

After your flawless job-interview, Seokmin hires you as the newest addition to his company. Just that, once you start, it seems like you’re not who you previously portrayed to be. Instead, he finds himself faced with mini-skirts, push-up bras and gawking co-workers, not to mention your absolute lack of work ethic. Obviously, he needs to fire you! Just that, when he tries to… you simply don’t let him.

Pairing: Boss!Seokmin x Employee!F!Reader

Genre: Porn with the smallest bits of plot, workplace “romance”, Smut MDNI!

Warnings: Morally gray characters, Seokmin is obviously reader’s boss and shouldn’t be fucking her, power imbalance, reader gets objectified a lot, but she enjoys it, reader is… acting very dumb (on purpose), Smut warnings under the cut!

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: Hi everyone!! welcome to this little work of… filth! Making my return with a Seokmin fic just felt right (also I just could not stop thinking about this). Please let me know what you think with a reply or a reblog, it would mean the world to me!! also a big thanks to @shadowkoo for making this AMAZING banner and to @bitchlessdino for beta-ing!!

tagging: @okiedokrie, @inkchwe, @shinysobi, @gyuhanniescarat, @haologram, @beomcoups @wongyuseokie, @the-boy-meets-evil, @multi-kpop-fanfics (just some of my fellow dk enjoyers)

Smut Warnings: oral (m receiving), face fucking, praise (good girl, etc.), degradation (whore, etc.), unprotected sex, titjob, breeding, usage of the word “Sir” in a sexual context, tell me if i missed anything!

His phone rings. The Harry Potter title music is playing, letting him know it’s his sister calling. He can’t pick up, or well, no, he can, considering his hands are free, but he probably shouldn’t.

Having talks with his employees about having to let them go is Seokmin’s least favorite thing about being the boss. He never wants anyone to feel like they weren’t good enough or couldn’t live up to any expectations, but sometimes… sometimes it was inevitable.

Like with you.

When you had first walked into your interview, you impressed him with your sharp tongue and your witty humor. Your resume looked perfect for the job, and your previous experience was exactly what he needed. He hired you the following week and deemed his decision a good one - until you showed up for your first day.

See, before anything else, Seokmin is simply just a man. A man with eyes and needs and desires.

The mini skirt barely covered your backside, showed off your legs and those perfect thighs you had hidden from sight before. Your dress shirt would have been fine for the office if only it wasn’t… half open. Or at least open enough to see your breasts almost falling out of your push-up bra.

He knew back then that he should say something. Tell you that this wasn’t appropriate to wear to work. But he didn’t. For the same reason, his mostly male staff began coming into work more punctually, more eagerly and stayed for even longer hours.

It was a mistake, he thinks now, not to say anything to you on your first day. Or any other day after that.

A mistake or the single best decision he had ever made.

Truth be told, he’d never called you into his office to discuss his decision to let you go if it was only about the clothes (or lack thereof) you wore to work. No, he was fine with the clothes, more than fine, actually, if you took just one look at the amount of tissues discarded in his office’s trash can.

But… you lacked certain skills he had thought you’d easily have, considering your previous jobs. You struggled doing, in his opinion, the most basic tasks, and more or less let the others do the work for you. The work he paid you to do. Instead, you sat at your desk all day and played Solitaire or scrolled on Instagram.

The two of you almost never interacted, mainly because he was scared to say the wrong thing or stare too long at your breasts he couldn’t stop thinking about anyway. When it did happen that he had to talk to you, it mostly went with him going back to his office with a raging boner and a guilty conscience.

One time, he brought back some prints from the copy room, only to find out you had been the one to print them. When he asked around the room and you were the one to raise your hand and get up from your chair he almost choked on his spit. You made your way over him, your tight dress hugging every single one of your curves, the slit in the side showing off where your stockings began, the neckline down far enough for him to see the lacy material of your bra once again.

“Thank you, Mr. Lee, Sir,” you smiled at him, your fingers touching his when you reached for the pile of papers. He felt like you shot him and as a result, he shot a huge load of cum into one of his tissues when he was back in his office.

Then, he met you at the coffee maker one time, witnessing you eat a fucking banana in one god damned bite. He couldn’t believe his eyes when you basically deepthroated the fruit all while looking directly into his eyes. He popped a boner right then and there.

All in all, it was safe to say the woman he had met in the interview was gone and he had absolutely no clue why or how he had let you fool him that day you met.

A part of him was angry at himself for letting it get this far, but he couldn’t deny that with every glimpse of your exposed ass and tits, with every encounter like the prints or the banana, he decided to give you one last chance to prove yourself. So far he had given you about 151 chances and you’d screwed up all of them.

Which is how he ended up calling you into his office.

Which is how you ended up sitting in front of his desk on one of the comfortable dark red armchairs, your legs crossed, yet another mini-skirt rising up far enough for Seokmin to at least imagine he can smell you. The shirt you were wearing was tight and cropped and your blazer was lazily hung over the back of the armchair.

“So, Y/N,” he began, shifting on his seat and trying very hard not to look at your tits, “do you have any idea why I called you in here?”

You shook your head no.

“No, sir, I don’t. Did I do something wrong?”

Sir. Oh good lord, Seokmin had to swallow down the pathetic moan he feels creeping up his throat.

“Well,” he cleared his throat, “I have noticed that you’ve been handing your work off to Chan a lot. Soonyoung as well, and while I understand you’re the newest employee, you have been here for almost five months now, Y/N, and I did expect you to already, you know, do at least a certain amount of work by yourself.”

Your eyes widened the more he spoke, your pout prominent once he finished.

“I’m sorry, Sir, truly! They always offered to help me and I just- I just didn’t want to disappoint them,” your voice strained, almost sounding like you were about to start crying. Seokmin felt his heart speed up.

“I understand that. But still - it must make sense to you that-,”

You jumping up from your chair made him stop mid sentence. He watched how you stalked over to him, your big eyes staring him down with something he couldn’t pinpoint even if he tried.

“It does make sense, Sir, and I want to apologize. I can do better, please don’t fire me.”

Seokmin was frozen in his chair, his seated figure looking up at you, almost panicking when he realized how close you were. If he raised his hand now, he could touch your thigh, could let it slip higher, could-

“Please, Mr. Lee, I’d do anything to keep this job.”

Which is how we get to… now.

His phone is still ringing on the desk, but he’s still nowhere near answering it. He is too focused on your mouth around his rock-hard cock, on the way you look up at him with watery eyes, on the way your hand is fondling his aching balls.

You dropping to your knees might have been the single most hottest thing he has ever seen before. Or well, maybe this right now tops it. Your tongue is flat against his shaft, dragging it along his veins, licking up all the precum that doesn’t directly land in your mouth. You suck on his tip, tease his slit, and moan when you take him all the way.

And Seokmin? He thinks he might have just entered heaven. His hands are itching to touch you, to push you down and fuck up, to lose control, but he doesn’t. Instead, he watches you with his mouth dropped, with his heart going at triple speed in his chest.

This is wrong. So, so wrong! He shouldn’t let you suck his cock as a way to keep your job, for god’s sake!

Once his tip crashes against the back of your throat, his mind goes blank, and all the thoughts from before disappear. They make room for new thoughts instead, thoughts that finally allow him to do what he wanted to from the second you had walked in on your first day.

The groan he lets out causes you to drip into your panties. And the way his hands now find the back of your head almost makes you come. Your eyes roll back for a second, before you bring them back to look at your boss.

Your extremely hot, perfect boss who took so fucking long to bring you into his office. Who could not take a hint at-fucking-all.

He begins to thrust up into your throat, letting out moans you wish you could record and replay as many times as you wished. His cock is big, just as big as you had hoped it to be. He’s veiny and perfect and his angry red tip is going to become your favorite thing to suck on. He tastes salty and sweet and bitter at the same time, melts on your tongue, and gets you to clench around absolutely nothing.

“Fuck,” he cries out when he picks up his speed, nails digging into your scalp as he continues his hard and fast thrusts, his cock beginning to twitch, his balls tightening dangerously. You need him, want him and almost demand him to come down your throat. To give you everything he has to offer. You press your tongue harder against his shaft, cheeks hollowed out, and you can feel his orgasm nearing with every passing second.

“I’m gonna- fu-fuck, I’m gonna c-come!” His cry is almost taking you over the edge too.

Seokmin sees red and white at the same time, opens his eyes, and stares down at you with his pupils blown and his cock finally emptying his seed inside your awaiting mouth. It almost breaks him, seeing how you swallow all of his cum like a pro, never breaking eye contact.

Breathless, Seokmin slowly gets down from his high, watching how you lick up his cock, your eyes twinkling with mischief, giving his tip a small kiss before finally leaning back, batting your eyelashes.

“So tasty, Mr. Lee. Now, should I get back to work?”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

It kind of becomes a thing. At the beginning, Seokmin calls you into his office and you suck his cock, make him come, go back to work. All while still wearing your skimpy outfits to work and doing the minimum requirements to not be a complete waste of Seokmin’s money. Even though he figures with a cold shiver running down his spine, it seems like he’s paying you for something totally different now.

You’re enjoying this to the fullest, having a right out blast. Not just because you get to have Seokmin fuck your throat every other day, no, but because of how he looks at you. When you met him that first day at the interview, you already knew you wanted him. Knew he was going to be your next little project. So far you had never failed, and you sure as hell weren’t going to start now.

Working at the company for five months hadn’t exactly been your plan, though. Five months until he finally called you into his office. Five months of you choosing the most outrageous outfits, knowing every single man in that office wanted a taste of you, but only wanting one of them to actually act on it.

“Holy fucking hell, yeah, just- just like that,” he’s leaning against the wall behind his desk, you back on your knees, his cock hitting the soft inside of your cheek over and over again. He’s holding onto your hair with one hand while the other is pressed against the wall next to him. You lick and suck and fuck his cock against your cheek, drool running down your chin. You’re painfully wet, throbbing, and needing him to finally put his cock in you.

By now (3 weeks after your little blowjob-job started) you know his tells, can sense when he’s about to come. So, when you hear that first little noise, you let go of his cock with a plop and get up. Seokmin’s eyes open and he looks at you, visibly confused.

“Wha-,” he begins, but you just take a step forward and crush your lips against his, your hands grabbing his face.

For the first few seconds, Seokmin doesn’t really grasp the situation. You’re kissing him. He begins to melt, his hands somehow finding their way to your waist and when you lead him back, suddenly seated on his desk, his mind goes blank. You want him to fuck you. Want his cock to go inside that probably sweet tasting pussy of yours. He moans into your mouth.

“Take me, Mr. Lee, please, need your cock in me, need you to fuck me,” you whisper into his ear, biting his earlobe after and sighing in relief when he immediately moves to get your panties off of you.

“Fuck, fuck, you’re so hot.” He kisses you again, wild and uncontrolled, your panties now landing on the floor. You part your legs and grab his cock, bringing it to your awaiting entrance. There is no stopping the moan that escapes you once his tip slips in, your teeth sinking into his bottom lip harshly. He licks over your teeth, feels his mind fog up, no thoughts just you, you, you.

Then, he’s fully inside of you. Twitches, groans, kisses you harder. And fucks you like a god-damned beast.

The pace he sets is brutal and you’re lucky it’s after hours so no one is at the office anymore. They for sure would have heard the way the desk is bouncing against the floor with every thrust as well as your high pitched moans, and Seokmin’s low growls.

He fucks you like he owns you and you live for it. His cock drags along your walls, fills you like he was made for you, hits your sweet spot over and over again as if he’d done this thousand times before.

“Fuck, yes!” You basically scream, your body falling backward, only his strong hands holding you up as he speeds up once more.

“God, shit, how are you so tight, baby?” He moves to kiss your neck, licks over the salty skin, revels in your taste, in the way you shiver under his touch. You wanna scream and cry and mark his body with your mouth and nails - and so you begin to pull on the hem of his shirt, which he gladly helps you to take off completely.

He’s built like a god. Wide shoulders, bulked up arms, abs like they were painted on. You let your nails drag over his torso, finally sliding them to his strong, muscular back. When he pushes into you even more, his lips not getting enough of your own, you dig into his flesh and hear him hiss. Still, he doesn’t stop. If anything, he goes even harder. Fucks you til you scream his name while experiencing the most intense orgasm of your life, milking his cock of all he had, cum filling your pussy to the brim.

After that it spirals.

He fucks you every chance he gets. He is addicted to you and your pussy. Whenever he needs you, he gets to have you.

He bends you over his desk during work hours, drilling into your pussy like a mad man while pressing his hand over your mouth to make sure no one notices. He comes inside you and stuffs it all back in there with his fingers, pulls your panties back up and sends you out to continue your work day as before.

When lunch time comes around, you meet him in the building’s cafeteria and he drags you to the nearest supply closet to fuck your mouth and then your cunt, telling you what a good little slut you are and how well you always take him.

He sends you pictures of his hard cock after work, begging you to come to his place and bounce on him - but you never do. It’s a game for both of you. No fucking outside of work, no dates or anything like that. He gets to keep fucking you and you get to keep your job - easy as that.

Just that… you’re not really bad at your job. Seokmin is slow to figure that one out, you realize.

When your seventh month at the company begins, he is so focused on getting his cock inside of you, he doesn’t even notice you’ve stopped handing off your assignments to your colleagues. You’ve actually grown quite fond of this job and the team - and Seokmin for that matter. Not that you want to admit that to him, or confess that you’ve been playing this part of the dumb girl with the slutty outfits simply to get his attention.

“I love when you get to the office with no panties on, gods, you’re a dirty little whore.” Seokmin’s hands are on your ass while you bounce on his cock. He’s sitting on his desk chair, admiring the view of your tits as you fuck yourself on his cock. His dirty words make your pussy flutter around him and you whimper, your hands braced on his shoulders.

“Mhmm, only a whore for you, Mr. Lee,” you moan, biting down on your lip. There is no chance you’ll ever grow tired of seeing the way he looks at you when you fuck. His hooded eyes, his red lips dropped open. His cheeks flushed and his hair a mess.

You enjoy being on top, enjoy watching him watch you, setting your own pace until he can’t hold back any longer and wraps his arm around your waist, pushing you down so he can fuck into you at his desired speed.

“That’s right, you’re my whore, your pussy belongs only to me.” He squeezes your ass cheeks and moans when you clench around him again, thrusting his hips up once. You can tell he’s about to lose control, about to hold you down and fuck you senseless. There is nothing quite as hot as Seokmin losing his composure.

Just two days ago, you teased him by being flirty with Soonyoung all day. Seokmin had not thought of himself as possessive, but somehow when it came to you…

Safe to say, he fucked you against his office door two minutes after your last encounter with Soonyoung, simply shoving up your skirt and ripping off your panties, his cock deeply buried inside of you the next second. He fucked you so hard you couldn’t properly walk even the day after.

“Yes, Mr. Lee, my pussy belongs to you, I am yours, Sir.”

You bounce on his cock quicker now, throwing your head back when his hands move to your breasts, taking them both into his hands and cradling them. His fingers press onto your nipples, squeezing them between his thumb and forefinger, pinching and teasing you. With every touch of his, you feel yourself nearing your high.

“You’re so beautiful, always so good for me, isn’t that right?” He breathes out, licking his lips as his eyes are glued to the way your tits look between his hands.

He fucked them a few days ago, your tits. Had you kneeling between his legs, squeezing them together as he fucked his cock between them with the lube he now stored in his bottom drawer. They had felt amazing around him, but nothing compared to your cunt, to its warmth, to its tightness.

“Oh- oh! I’m- I’m gonna come, Mr. Lee! Please, can I come?!” Your orgasm is so close, is ready to crash down on you and when Seokmin moaned out a yes, you let it happen. Waves and waves of pleasure erupt in your body and make you fall forward against his chest, his hips now beginning to thrust up, his moans turning more and more desperate.

“Good girl, such a good girl, fuck- I’m gonna fill you up, yeah? Fill you up with my cum, breed you like my own personal whore, hm?”

Your nails dig into his skin desperately as he fucks you fast and hard, his right arm now around your waist, pressing you down while he uses you for his pleasure, crying out your name when he comes - white hot cum landing inside your spent pussy, painting it the colours of his affection for you.

Seokmin fucks both of you through your orgasms, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, kissing your lips passionately when his hips still. You kiss him back, arms wrapping around his neck, your high still present in your bones.

“You’re perfect,” Seokmin mumbles against your lips and you smile, kissing him again, fingers brushing through his hair.

For a while, you make-out just like that, him still safely buried inside of you, some bits of your combined releases dripping down onto his chair.

Only when Seokmin’s phone rings do the two of you part. You give his cheek a small kiss before climbing off his lap and looking for your underwear, all while you put your dress back into its place. Your boss watches you, wishes he could just do this all over again instead of answering his phone. Reluctantly, he takes the call and watches how you wave at him, panties back on and clothes and shoes back where they belong. He waves back, greeting the business partner on the other line.

And when you leave his office and close the door behind you, when none of your co-workers even pay you any mind, you realize that maybe you like to keep it this way for just a little while longer.

[satocidal]

𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ 𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳“15 missed Calls”—Geto Suguru

Synopsis: Suguru wasn’t a jealous or angry man but then you usually didn’t flaunt your ass a round in a tiny dress either- but hey, Halloween’s every girl’s pass at being a whore, right?

── ˚₊✩‧₊ A/n: ok yeah I’m late to post for Halloween but it’s like barely anything to do with it so <3 also I did stray away from what I’d planned to write but then hehe👉👈 also, thanks to @romiyaro for beta and in general (I swear I’ll get pouty! Reader in some Drabble now💀)

── ˚₊✩‧₊ word count: 3.9k

── ˚₊✩‧₊ warnings: MDNI!!smut!!fem! Reader x Suguru; pussy inspection; degradation; jealous (but totally not toxic) Suguru; orgasm denial; hinted power dynamics; reader is more or less a brat; spitting; Suguru is almost a soft dom? It was supposed to be just smut but idk (PWP)

“Crawl”

You stared at him blankly, “Now,” Suguru added, brows raised- a smirk wide on his face as you drop to your knees.

“I’ll be back late, don’t wait up on me Su���”

A nod he passed mindlessly—“Sure thing babe- just lemme know if I have to pick you up and don’t get wasted, send me a message if you change locations and-”

A heavy pause settled in, you walked in skittishly—a bashful grin on your face, “This ok?” Question which referred your dress in place.

Mostly, it wasn’t ok—definitely not appropriate in the way the small little satin piece hugged your body, so short Suguru was sure you would flash somebody after two drinks.

But it was Halloween—every girl’s free pass at being a whore.

A sigh Suguru let out, “it’s gorgeous, you’re gorgeous…”

Your smile, guilty, only spread further, “..but?”

He smiled, shaking his head, “Nothing, just take care ok?” A step towards you and a turn of his finger to give him a spin—chuckling as you twirled excitedly and then hugged him—he was very sure it would be a long night.

-

15 missed calls, 25 messages with the same connotation of “are you ok?” And “where are you?”

A single slurred reply to you 40 messages with a “suguwu :)):) m’ kay. Pck me up im 20?”

And with all obviousness, it wasn’t well received at all—so evident in the way tension hung heavy in the car, your seat belt properly holding you in place—his piercing gaze, and the certain placement of his hand on your thigh that kept you as sober as possible.

“Mm sorry,” you slurred out again, head lolling to the side to look at him—stuck at the way his jaw clenched at your words.

Not a word he passed, not a word after that, did you.

And hence, ride back home was quiet, awkward and…in some way, scary.

Click- the door fell shut, locked, entrapping what was of you and Suguru alone in the house.

And just so suddenly, every stitch in the hem of your flimsy red dress began seeming interesting—“What did I tell you?”

You winced and groaned, internally at his tone—“The fact that I trust you to- to, gods,” he paused as if searching for the right words—but you saw it, the switch in his eyes as they darkened just the slightest—“To leave the house dressed as a cheap little whore, one thing I asked for. Your fucked out lil’ brain can’t even do that?”

You stood there in the middle of your apartment, frowning and loosely, berated as a little kid, it seemed.

“Mm’ sorry Su’ it’s just- the girls-”

A sharp glare from him, enough to make your excuses die down your throat—“The girls this and the girls that right? Why was there nobody when I picked you-”

“-I ordered them all Ubers,” you muttered under your breath, a silence resting again.

“And you couldn’t one for yourself, why?”

You paused, hesitated—never once looking at him, “I thought…I thought I had you so…”

That was when Suguru took notice of the pout you held—the one you did all the time, The one he mostly loved.

“Besides,” you began—attention strained on the memory as you thought hard, “I’m not a child to be taken care of, or someone who’ll get lost-”

What you had assumed would quieten everything down only seemed to uproar a side of him you barely saw.

“Excuse me?”

You gulped, hard—“well yeah-”

“Shut the fuck up.” He snapped, moving all so close—“You were down right freezing and shivering when I pulled up, I don’t care what your girls do but your tits were almost hanging out, like a damn slut. Hell, why did you have those 20 dollar bills stuffed in there?”

You almost wanted to chuckle at the last part- it would make for a funny story, but the look on Suguru’s face screamed that it would have to wait till at least, the next day.

“I was alright,” you scoffed, a hand pushing him away—not a budge that it caused in his stance, “The bartender…he was nice- didn’t even let no one come near our drinks and- and even offered me lemons after closing and-”

“-woman,” Suguru interrupted quick, a long sigh withdrawn, “it was me who offered you lemons,”

You waited—a pink tint already dusted your face, ears burning at his words, “oh.”

He sighed again, seemingly recollecting his thoughts as you bit your lip—gods how he adored you—especially when you wobbled slight, wrapping your arms around his torso and pulling yourself into him, head resting in his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled softly, against his body—his hands resting on your sides, “I know you’re a big girl alright? I know you can look after yourself,” he pulled away slight, a kiss landing on your forehead, “but it’s my responsibility too you know? And it was majorly annoying to have you gone like that,”

A nod you passed, again an apology mumbled except this time you were met by the shake of his head.

“No you’re not,” he mumbled, “you do this a lot you know?”

And you do, not informing him of the late night work sessions and what not, not informing him on time of a date cancelled, he was rightfully tired.

“Now, here on I’ll just punish you doll, you can deny it and we’ll go off to sleep and deal with it another time or you can be a good girl, my good girl and take everything because frankly, I’m a little too mad to sleep right now,”

You looked into his words, it wasn’t a bad idea, particularly, you would of course never utter a no.

But then, you knew what it entailed, you knew how it ended last time, how embarrassing but then just how much you loved it too—a nod, all the affirmation provided.

“Strip,” a command from there on, “quick,” he added, eyes boring into your form as he did so.

And strip you did, it wasn’t anything new but just the way your fingers trembled, as did your thoughts as you pulled down the satin dress down—Suguru’s groan was loud, sounding throughout the apartment—your breasts well out easily, “No bra?” And you wanted to snort at the obliviousness of the question, of course, no bra.

“At least tell me you’ve got your panties still on,” you licked your lips, face warmed up at his words—it wasn’t anything new, but then why did that certain tone of condescension feel just so right?

Suguru held back another groan as the white g-string came to his view, the one that he bought, “such a slut,” he whispered.

Over the couch, he motioned you—the sound of his tongue clicking as you stepped forward.

“I’m sure only good girls get to be with dignity,” there on his face, he held a grin which you wanted to slap away too—but all to no avail.

“Crawl” everything in his voice assured you that a brat was not what he would appreciate tonight.

You stared at him blankly, “Now,” Suguru added, brows raised- a smirk wide on his face as you drop to your knees.

It was simply embarrassing, in the way your hips swayed a little as you moved, all that was your dignity remained flitted to that small piece of clothing that you knew Suguru would probably tear away.

Your gaze remained downturned, too ashamed, humiliated to even look him in the eyes—but just one glance and you’d see that amused smirk, the satisfied expression on his face as he took in the sight displayed for him.

You halted near his feet- a ginger lick of your lips, unsure, uncertain on the sequence to be followed, tugging on the hem of his pants in a confused manner.

“Hm? Don’t know what to do? My, and here I thought the big girl was all so smart to do as she pleased,”

You let out a loud whine at his words, startled a little too as he squatted down to your level—“sh,” he muttered, pressing a finger to your lips, “all I want to hear tonight is an actual apology,”

Another nod, tersely you snapped your eyes away, knowing that’s as all you could do tonight.

He hummed along as well, getting up and motioning you with a finger too, “on the couch please doll,” and you were sure what was to come here on.

Across the arm rest you lay, biting your lip—so exposed, so vulnerable and to think he hadn’t shed a single piece of clothing himself.

His fingers were gentle in the way they touched you, you knew he wasn’t mad—but you knew you’d also end up crying by the time he was done.

They traced you gently, over your back, feathery touches to your spine—tickling almost, he bent down just at that too, down to your ear, “Feeling ashamed hm?”

A hum was all to add to his words as you lay yourself easy, tension ebbing away with the way he massaged you—“you know,” he began, “you should be more ashamed of your actions, acting like a brat rather than being ashamed of your pussy and bare ass on display,”

Just at that you wanted the couch to engulf you, you knew that he knew you did—that was the purpose, “You deserve some punishment eh?” A squeal you let you as his pinned you inner thigh, pushing it apart—“should get your pretty little girlfriends too eh? Make em watch since all of you seem like a bunch of sluts to me,”

All in good humour, you reminded yourself, but a small pout found it’s way along your features, as it always did when Suguru got degrading.

“15 spanks,” he mused, “just pink enough right?” — the sentence was ended with another pinch, 15, you but your lip—there would be something more to it.

“15 and you thank me for each, yeah pretty thing? Your pretty head can do that f’me tonight?”

you bobbed your head, not daring to even turn your head and look at him once.

A patient quiet settled in, your body relaxed further—Suguru smiled wide as he looked at you, so perfect for him, “remind me why you’re here sweetheart?”

The sweetness in his vice was sharp still, condescending in every way, “b-because I uh- I…I was out late? Didn’t—did not call o-or inform you-ah!”

-smack!

Your words simply fell short as the slap landed hard on your ass, so sure to grab it right after and and squeeze—Suguru pulled back, and waited.

“Thank you, Suguru,” you sighed, and you waited right after, expecting the next hit.

“We can stop if it’s too much-”

“-I’ll take it, wanna be a good girl, please i-”

A sharp slap on your right cheek and then the left, aimed carefully, accurately proportional, “atta girl,”

“Thank you,” you groaned at his words, eyes clenched shut, surprised in the way he chose not to hold back in midst of your words—but then, typical Suguru.

Just so, many a times Suguru landed the flat of Palm down on your ass, dusty pink to a rosy one, the process was slow as your backside gained its hue, so pretty.

18 spanks in, Suguru never spanked just the amount he promised, always more—the 19th spank sounded like a crack against your warmed up ass, you didn’t bother showing your gratitude.

A small pause, Suguru chuckled, “nothing? Why don’t I just-” a sharp pain elicited in you bottom half as another slap sounded in the room- a hard spank on your pussy, just hard enough to have you gasping.

“Thank you,” you mumbled out—tears forming at the brink of your eyes now,, form slumping onto the couch, exhausted and spent, sore from the position he’d had you hold so long.

“Bet you are, especially from all this wetness,” another slap on your pussy, “getting wet from your punishment?” Another slap, the tears threatened to spill, at this point, “that’s how sorry you are?”

You wanted to scream at him, thatyou were sorry but it was Suguru and this conversation was nuts to begin with so you remained your quiet, the pout slowly turning to a frown.

“On the couch, legs wide apart,” scrambling to your feet, you detested the way he chuckled as you grabbed onto him for support, the booze never helped and the way you were all so sore from hefty time spent in that uncomfortable position, nothing helped at all,, but that was fine, Suguru was gentle in the way he helped you settle.

“Just a small inspection, ok doll?”

The words and the fate of it came crashing down on you fast.

You gritted your teeth at his words, you knew what that meant—he would find your arousal, shame you for it, punish you maybe and you loved the process, every bit of it.

Sprawled across the couch, feet planted to your side onto the couch, while Suguru rested in the place between, warm breath tickling you, making your hole clench around nothing.

“If I slip these panties down,” you’re weren’t sure why he even bothered asking, the wet spot was all so apparent, “will I find you wet?” Even so, you lay audacious—a shake of your head, his smirk widened.

Fingers hooked into the waist and of your g-string, he pulled quick, not a second wasted , he’d been wanting to do this all evening.

An amused raise if his brow, eyes stuck at the string of your juices that worked its way from your pussy to the gusset of your flimsy panties.

There, finally, in all its glory, your pussy lay glistening with arousal under his gaze—“liar,” he grinned as he stared at it hungrily, “such a fuckin’ liar,” he repeated, almost in a daze.

Subconsciously though, your hips rolled, almost lifting to feel his touch, another set of clicking sounds, “don’t act like a cheap whore, you think I’ll just touch your pussy like that?”

Your eyes watched him, confused, as they stared down at his form in between your legs, kneeling for you, hair tied back.

“Need to see if this pussy’s still worth it babe,” and soon enough, everything made sense—a whine of disagreement rose through you, a glare from him acted enough a filter.

“Please, I’m sorry-”

“-prove it doll,” was all he muttered as he dove his fingers onto your pussy, mindful to only cause discomfort as he prodded at your folds, no more or less.

“Let’s see…” he snickered, “gods,” he chuckled, “think I gotta clean all of this before I can even start eh?”

Your eyes bounced around ditzy, you wanted just him, anything—“but the question is do we do this the right way and I wipe you clean? Or…” and all before the statement even came to its end, Suguru had dived in, pressed his hot tongue flat against your folds, basking in the gasp that you let out.

A sharp inhale you took as he pulled away just as fast, his eyes stuck onto yours, “I think cheap whores like you shouldn’t get the better end of the stick so…” with that, you cursed internally at the box of wipes that Suguru and you kept on the coffee table all the time—you cursed as the pulled out three tissues with ease.

“It’s supposed to cause discomfort so be prepared for that but if it hurts or is too much, let me know, ok?”

You nodded at his words, nervousness flickering on your face and he chuckled, squeezing your wrist slight—little comfort that it provided.

The first dab was ginger, as if testing his boundaries, soon came the second and then the third—until Suguru was easily navigating and cleansing you, almost felt infantilising.

How so very humiliating indeed.

“That’s your apology hm?” The smile jo longer rested on his face, “look at only me when I’m down here,” he added, noticing the slight hang of your head and almost closed off eyes.

“Such a naughty girl that you are,” he mused, “am I to believe you got this turned on from a spanking? Or was it something your girls did hm?” A sharp smack that ended on your hardened clit, he stroked it a little while he was there, “how absolutely pathetic doll,”

Shame blanketed you slight, not covering all of what you wanted for you still remained absolutely naked and open on for him, a satisfied hum he passed, tossing away the second tissue after dragging it from your slit all the way down to your other hole.

“Now that I begin inspecting my girl,” he chuckled at the pout you’d held the entire while, “you brought this upon yourself baby,”

And you had, but particularly, Suguru did think you held up better than most times.

You watched as he eyes your pussy, unsure of how to embarrass you further—he grinned, “my my, it’s so pink underneath all that slick hm? Almost as pink as your sweet ass,” with that he landed a sharp slap to your ass, just as a reminder—giggling at your squeal.

Thick fingers spread apart your folds slowly, tracing it over your pussy lips—a tickling sensation, “is your cunt clean enough to be used hm?”

You let out a sigh as he pulled at your folds, making sure to not once lay a finger on your clit—yet accurate enough to just pull back the hood of it.

“Is it clean enough that I can use your little hole now as a cum dump?” His fingers patted down onto your bare cunt, relishing in the wetness that seeped out your hole—“maybe you don’t deserve it all hm?”

With that, Suguru spit on your cunt, the wetness only ever grew as he Smeared it around, “had to make sure,” he snickered mischievously, “that this pussy’s still mine.”

You wanted to whine and groan, shove his head into your pussy so he eat you until you cried—but you know, you knew all too well that any attempts would only get your hands tied and mouth gagged with your soiled panties.

Suguru hummed, snapping his fingers, “eyes on me doll—now, I think, from the outside, you’re ok,” he smirked, “but I’d need to check the inside too right?”

You nodded at his words mindlessly, of course anything he said would he correct, “you’re lucky I’m not mad at ya, would’ve made ya bounce on that dildo of yours till ya’ cried,”

And by now, your patience was running low—Suguru was a tease, apparent from the way your clit itself twitched for his contact, your hips rolled and hole clenched uselessly—you were dying to fight back.

But you wouldn’t, because Suguru demanded a good girl tonight.

A finger moved into you slow, very slow, hips bucked only to be pushed down harshly by Suguru at that—“Take only what I give you,” he warned, loving the feel of your walls clenching about his finger.

You were to watch him, sure but nothing mattered anymore as your head fell back—“please,” you whimpered, “just a little more.”

He smiled at the way your face contorted about his thick finger, slow as he moved it about, a circular motion and then pushing it against your walls before pulling away entirely.

The slick coated his finger just as before, only this time He brought to his mouth still, tasting you right there and humming.

“Good as always,” he muttered, eyeing carefully your ministrations, “please Suguru,” you cried out, “touch me p-please,”

Tricky slope.

Suguru was going to touch you anyways, of course he would but your statement only ever pushed away the ebbing orgasm he would’ve provided.

“Of course, my love,” he grinned—slyly before pushing in two fingers roughly into your hole—loving just how you gasped and mewled about it.

Then again, nothing mattered to you anymore.

"S-S—Suguruuu, harder... please. Moremoremore!" your begs fell in a hoarse voice.

“A sweet spot already?” A toothy grin he held as he pumped the two fingers into you slowly, loving the way your eyes rolled back at his touch.

Your thighs were spread out wide on the couch — raised now in the air as he leaned his body close, reaching knuckle deep and curling his thick fingers up into a gummy spot that made you shudder and grip a cushion.

"Ouh, Fuck! Sugu—"

“Ah, ah, ah, only apologies I said, right?” His tone was so soft even so, almost heavenly that you felt.

You pinch your bottom lip between your teeth as he hits deep strokes and massages his fingertips into your gummy walls— sticky juices are all over his hand because of all that cleansing he worked out of you earlier. Suguru smiled to himself, knowing you wouldn’t appreciate getting that couch wet with your juices in the morning—to hell with that.

You looked cute, as you gasped and moaned in his fingers—he took note of the ever present pout on your lips, oh how he wanted to fuck it out of you—but then, the mean thrusts diluted down to gentle strokes soon enough, boy was he soft for you.

Suguru was doting still, knowing that no way you could’ve taken his cock without prep—struggling with even his fingers tonight, he loved being bigger than you.

Bigger, faster, harder and merciless as they pursue your orgasm.

"Gonna cum and make a mess for me again? Yeah?"

"Yes! Please, pleasepleaseplease — make me cum!" you whisper frantically against him.

He chuckled when you moan, pumping his fingers faster and faster, fingering at your clit with his other hand to tip you over the edge.

“Nothing unless I allow it,” he announced finally, ah—that was why he’d been lenient earlier—gods how you hated him.

He studied you intently as your orgasm built up, if only that was his focus onto other things— maybe if he would have had the same determination in general as he does now when finding your G-spot, then he perhaps wouldn’t have struggled with daily life issues as much as he had to.

Suguru's dampened forehead rested against your thighs. He felt the radiating heat of your pussy in this proximity. Those dark eyes never stop staring at you, making sure you're as flustered as possible even in this pleasure-drunk state.

"Fuck... you're gushing..." he says in awe, " 'promise to lick my fingers clean after, yeah?" he rasps against you.

"Yes yes yes!" you say. He's pretty sure that you would have said yes to anything right then; you were so blissed by the way his fingers worked into your soaking hole, by the way they stretched you open just right.

The apartment was filled entirely, with the sound of your gushing pussy squelching with his thrusts—so tempted to attach his tongue onto your cunt but he knew you’d never be able to control yourself after that.

But to tease you was the goal—just slightly, almost a feathery touch he lay on your clit as he began rubbing it again, “shit doll, I do think your pussy’s worth turning a cum dump into,” you groaned at his words—mind almost mush as you chased your high, clenching at his fingers—until he pulled out immediately.

Until your high entirely ebbed away.

A confused and betrayed look you passed him, “wa-wait what? Suguru-! I-”

He simply giggled at your state, slapping your ass one more time as he got up and away, “you’re an idiot if you thought you’d be cummin’ t’night,”

All of this work is entirely original and my own—please refrain from copying or reposting.

Likes and Reblogs highly appreciated!

[judasofsuburbia]

something something caretaker! steve gets hired by rockstar! eddie to look after and live with wayne. everything is set up over the phone after eddie was given his resume so eddie's never physically seen the guy but he has enough positive reviews and references that it seems like there is anybody in this world that doesn't like this steve harrington fellow.

wayne munson soon becomes his #1 fan.

wayne keeps telling eddie all about steve in their weekly phone calls. anytime eddie tries to steer the conversation into something actually about wayne's health and wellbeing, wayne manages to involve steve. says that steve's blushing face is real handsome while steve rolls his eyes and laughs to himself across the room.

"you should come home on your next break," wayne says.

"i'm planning to."

"steve really wants to meet you," wayne says with an infliction.

"well, shit, wayne. from how much you gush about him, i'm excited to meet your new boyfriend too," eddie teases.

"oh hush, you. my casanova days are over. you, however, could use someone good."

the next break eddie has, nearly six months after steve starts working for the munsons, he arrives at nearly 11pm. he's quiet as he sneaks into the house he bought wayne years ago and nearly shits himself when he sees steve hanging out on the couch watching TV. he drops his suitcase to the floor, jolting steve out of his trance.

"oh god, i'm so sorry!" steve rushes to say as eddie clutches his chest and tries to steady his breathing.

"steve, i take it?" eddie laughs breathlessly.

"yeah, hi," steve stands from the couch and holds his hand out. "nice to finally meet you."

steve steps into the light as he does this and eddie's taken aback by just how handsome he is. oh fuck, wayne wasn't just messing around. eddie takes his hand, firm and strong, and shakes it.

"sorry to jumpscare you like that," steve smiles and his eyes twinkle in the low hallway light.

"no, i should've prepared myself," eddie says. "someone hasn't been in the house either than wayne or i in....well, ever."

"don't worry, i'll try to keep mostly to myself as you two have quality bonding time," steve replies sheepishly.

eddie shakes his head. "you don't gotta do that. you're more welcome around us than anyone. i owe you so much for looking after him."

steve smiles. "you already sign all my paychecks."

right, yeah. eddie's technically this guy's boss. eddie's never really thought of it that way before. that means any plans eddie's monkey brain had in the last thirty seconds about flirting with the handsome caretaker is out the window. it wouldn't be appropriate. eddie slouches and gives steve a tired smile.

"i'm gonna turn in. see you at breakfast?" eddie asks, hopeful despite his conflicting internal monologue.

"be prepared for oatmeal," steve jokes. "it's the only thing he wants for breakfast nowadays."

eddie scrunches up his face. "you don't have any poptarts or anything fun stashed away somewhere?"

"depends. do you like brown sugar cinnamon?" steve asks.

"love it," eddie whispers.

"then yeah, your breakfast fate can be a little better," steve nudges his elbow and it lights up eddie's skin.

"thank you caretaker steve," eddie salutes and turns heel to his teenage bedroom.

over the next few days, eddie goes out of his mind. he watches steve just do his job, the job he hired him to do, and he's still going crazy over it. how steve prepares for everything, accidents and things eddie couldn't even predict. spoon feeds wayne if his hands are too shaky. jokes and messes around with him like he's family. wayne's eyes keep drifting over to eddie's when steve isn't looking, a smug little smirk on his face.

"it can't happen," eddie seethes when steve leaves the room. "you're what's important here and i need him to stick around."

"and i need you to stop moping about the country, getting your heart broken every other week," wayne retorts. "steve's a good boy. he would treat you right."

"we don't even know if he's gay," eddie grumbles.

wayne gives him an unimpressed look that makes eddie bark out a frustrated laugh. "take a look at his bedroom, kid. you'll have all your questions answered," wayne advises right before steve returns.

"jeopardy time?" steve asks, hands already on wayne's wheelchair handles.

"eddie is gonna beat us both," wayne claims.

"that so?" steve beams. eddie is glaring daggers at wayne.

"he's full of useless facts," wayne jokes while eddie throws up his hands and steve laughs joyfully.

eddie falls for steve more and more as the week goes on. he tries his best to restrain it, tries his best to never be alone with steve. catches himself from checking steve out (especially in his daily running outfit, god) and swallows flirtatious lines that nearly escape his mouth. it's hard to say no when steve invites him to watch a movie or hang out with him while he cooks dinner but he does. eddie has to be coming off like a total dick at this point but it's for the best.

steve is out running an errand so eddie finally decides to snoop only a little bit. opens steve's bedroom door and smiles at all the decorations. sure enough, there is a little bisexual pride flag sticking out of the pen cup on his desk. eddie is admiring framed photos of steve and some kids along with little handwritten camp postcards on his corkboard when steve enters the room.

"anything interesting?" steve jokes from the doorway.

"shit!" eddie yells, clutching his chest again like he did the first night. "fuck, i'm so sorry."

"don't be," steve shrugs easily. "it is your house after all. i snoop your teenage bedroom all the time when wayne asks me to change the sheets."

"still, i shouldn't be invading your privacy," eddie says with an apologetic face.

steve walks carefully over to where eddie is standing. "i don't think there is much privacy between us where wayne is concerned," steve says quietly with a kind smile, leaning up against the desk.

"i'm sorry about him," eddie groans, rubbing his hand over his chin. "he is a little pushy about my love life."

"no, i'm sorry that he's weird about us. i swear i called you handsome once and he has never left it alone since," steve admits with a small blush.

eddie's eyebrows raise. "you think i'm handsome?"

"are you kidding me? you got this whole," steve gestures in a circle, "rockstar bravado going on. hard not to admire the show."

"well, you've got a show i admire too," eddie admits, inching closer.

steve huffs, looking down bashfully. "do i?"

"mhm. smart, genuine guy with a heart of gold. makes wayne's days better. lights up a room. probably rescues cats from trees and saves drowning puppies," eddie smiles.

steve tilts his head from side to side. "i may have rescued a cat before but it was stuck under my little brother Dustin's porch."

"see? heart of gold," eddie repeats.

steve exhales deeply, twisting his mouth. "i wasn't sure if you liked me."

eddie reaches his hand over and touches steve's hand on top of the desk. steve looks up shyly to eddie's sympathetic face. "i didn't want to-- there's a power trip here, you know? like you said, i sign your paychecks. i'm not about to pull out the moves and make you feel like your job is at risk if you aren't into it."

steve nods before slowly rubbing his thumb over eddie's.

"and if i am into it?" steve whispers.

"well i--" eddie stutters.

"can i kiss you?" steve asks quietly. eddie's not sure he's ever been asked in his entire life.

eddie nods. when steve's lips touch his, it's all over. any pretense of keeping his feelings undercover blows up like fireworks underneath his skin. eddie feels as his resolve sparkles and cracks away into the air. he encourages steve to keep kissing him by pulling in his face closer. steve sucks his bottom lip in between his own when his watch beeps.

"wayne's meds," steve whispers.

"old bastard," eddie jokes. "watch a movie with me later?"

steve bites his lip and nods. "i know just the couch."

[paiges-1vur]

late night confessions… as always enjoy loves <3

you and paige had been friends since the 7th grade. ever since that one day she scored on you in gym basketball everything became a competition, another chance to win at something. you had been inseparable for the last four years. always hanging out after paiges practices, going to see her play at her games, even going on family vacations together. you did absolutely everything together. as a junior at hopkins paige had started to gain more recognition in the basketball world. and she deserved every ounce of it. she was getting D1 offers, coaches flying to watch her play at aau tournaments, all the works. and you were there through all of it. all of the emotions. the smiles, tears, and celebrations.

it was late, almost 1 in the morning and you couldn’t seem to fall asleep. you were just scrolling your phone. you get a notification, and its from paige. “you awake love?” your a little shocked by the love, but laugh it off. paige is always flirting with people jokingly. “yes paigey, what do you want.” yousay sarcastically. “can i come over?” you stared at the message for a second. you cant help but smile at her request. you quickly text a reply. “cant sleep?” followed up with a “yk what sure come whenever” she replies almost immediately. “make sure to dress comfortably, i plan on having lots of snuggles and snacks.” you laugh to yourself and reply “okay paige ill make sure im dressed appropriately.”

she didnt reply for another two minutes. you spent those two minutes staring at the ceiling, wondering why she couldnt just take some damn melatonin and go to bed. you loved her but sometimes she just couldn’t seem to leave you alone. she texted you again. a sefie of her in her car, with sweats and a hoodie on, showing her outfit while she was sitting down. “okay im coming” she texts. you reply quickly, “bet that” and then “those sweats are so cute can i borrow them sometime.” they actually were really cute sweats and they looked really comfy. all of paiges basketball clothes were comfy honestly. you had ransacked her closet too many times to count. she texted back, “if your lucky i can give you them tonight.” the message caught you off guard. what did she mean by that? while your thinking she texts again, “be there in 5” instead of replying you decide to just turn your phone off. you make a quick stop in the bathroom to make sure you look halfway decent before she arrives. your hair stays in the messy bun it was already thrown in, and your paiges hopkins basketball sweatshirt stays on, along with your plain grey low waisted sweats. you look in the mirror, and put a touch of perfume on before closing the light off and going back to your bed.

she ends up coming 10 minutes later than she said she would be. “im here, open the door” she says, when you don’t immediately reply she texts again, “unless i have to climb through your window to see you” you laugh and run to the door opening it. “someones late” you say giggling. “better late than never, love” she replies smiling down at you.

“its really late, why did you come over?” you ask. she responds, “just wanted to see you” shrugging. she gently grabs your hips, pulling you a tad closer to her. “im gonna get cuddles now, hm?” you smile and start to pull away, walking her to your room. “yes paigey lots of cuddles.”

as we walk into my dimly lit room she grins excitedly, pushing you onto the bed gently. she quickly gets on top of you, straddling you. “all the cuddles you could ever imagine right now love-” you look up at her ontop of you “p this doesnt look like cuddling. what are you-” she laughs, gently pinning your wrists above your head as she leans down to place careful kisses along your jaw. “shh, don’t worry about it, babe.” your instantly met with confusion. your intrigued for sure, but mostly confused. “are you okay? i thought we were cuddling but this doesnt look like cuddles” you say as she pauses placing kisses along your jaw. she lets out a hum, nipping at the crook of your neck before responding. “mmm.. i just wanted to have a bit of fun first, doll.” her breath is hot against your skin and you can feel her hands slowly moving down your sides.

you have to speak up. “paige” you say, as firmly as possible. she immediately looks up at you, stopping her kisses momentarily. her hands lay still where they were roaming. “p-paige i thought we were friends-” she bites down on your neck gently before pulling away, looking you in the eyes, her grip on your wrists now loosened. “oh come on love, we are just friends.. having a little fun-” her fingers are now slowly tracing along your abdomen. “well when you said you were coming over i thought this was just another movie night” you explain innocently “you didnt give me any warning. why are you in such a mood, what were you thinking about before you came over?” she pins your wrists down again, holding them tighter. she leans down to your ear, kissing it gently. “mmm.. nothing for you to worry about love.. just wanna have fun.” she rolls her hips against yours just slowly enough to make you whine.

“nothing for you to worry about..” she says again. she smirks and does it again, using her legs to stop you from getting away. “you like that, doll..?” she gently begins to kiss along your neck again. your feeling more and more aroused by the second, but also just as confused. “paige.. were you thinking about me tonight? is that why you couldnt sleep, why you had to text me and come over?” you ask from under her. she laughs quietly before slowly kissing down along your collarbone now. “you know me so well, love~ of course i was.. always thinking about you.” she slowly bites down on your collarbone. she laughs quietly and rolls her hips against yours again, making sure to do it much faster this time. “mm.. you know what i was thinking about.. i just couldn’t stop and it’s your fault~”

your still confused why your friend was acting this way. especially someone like paige who was so close to you. “why all of a sudden were you thinking about me, how is it my fault” you defend yourself, planning to stop whatever shes starting. “you just.. make me so needy at night..” her one hand leaves your wrists in order to gently hold onto your jaw, she slowly drags her thumb across your bottom lip. she leans down to your ear again, her other hand slowly begins to trail down your waist again. “i.. m-miss.. you-” her fingertips gently slide under the waistband of your sweatpants, moving against your waist slowly.

“p-paige what do you want from me?” you squirm under her as she teases you with her fingers. you close your eyes awaiting her answer. she laughs again, noticing how weak you get just from her touch. “i want you, love.. that’s all i’ve ever wanted..” suddenly you think about the last four years of your friendship. has she always felt this way? and why was she just telling you now? she slowly begins sliding her hand under your sweats, but doesn’t go in any further. “is this about my recent breakup p… did you not like him?” you cant help but stop talking and notice her hand creeping down your sweats. she smirks at you, knowing how she has you wrapped around her finger. “mmm i didn’t like him at all love.. always touching you as if it’s his right..” her fingertips tease you, still under your sweats.

“paige” you say, pausing. “i never liked him either.. i always wanted.. something else.” her eyes immediately widen at what you hinted at. your confession catches her off guard. she swallows hard, her grip on your wrists tightening. her hand once again goes back down to the waist band of your pants, this time not just teasing. this time going further than before….

am i evil for ending it off like that?? (yes) im sorry but i got lazy lmao. let me know what you want to see more, or less of from me! ive been on a writing KICK recently so lets see how long it can last. dont be shy to spam anons with any requests/ideas! (also im always up to hear constructive criticism about my writing from you guys! i want to better my fics for you all) please let me know if you liked this, and i cant stress enough how much i love seeing your anons and messages! <3

[loganwritesprobably]

See Me

A request from anon for my 200 followers event

Content/Warnings: Crocodile/GN!Reader, pining, pre-slash, Reader is asked on a date, Reader wears Crocodile's clothes, inspired by Someone to you by BANNERS

You’d been working for Sir Crocodile for not far off twelve months now. Almost an entire year. It was potentially the busiest, and strangest job you’d had in your life so far, but you enjoyed it all the same. You worked as an assistant to the warlord, helping management of the casino. All in all, it wasn’t the easiest work, not because of the actual content of it but because of Sir Crocodile himself and what he tended to get himself into. He didn’t only run the casino, you knew that from your own observations, but it wasn’t something that he’d told you directly, and so you didn’t speak about it with him. It was something criminal, you were fairly sure, but that was nothing to do with you. If you didn’t get mixed up in it, you couldn’t get yourself into trouble.

And yet, you knew you were a little too close to being involved in it and losing your plausible deniability, because you wanted to date Crocodile. Yes, you were a complete cliche. You’d started a cushy office job and gotten a little too close to your boss, only to end up with a crush on him. You hated it. And yet, you couldn’t make yourself will the feelings away, or force the fantasies aside when you lay awake at night. He was unattainable, though, and you knew that - so what did the fantasies hurt? He’d never stopped longer than a moment to talk to you, you had no chance of it going anywhere, so it was harmless, right?

Wrong.

It was a warm day, even by Alabastan standards, and you were cooped up in your office as usual. You hadn’t expected the turn in the weather, and so you weren’t quite dressed appropriately, but you would make it work. At least paperwork hardly made you work up a sweat.

Crocodile looked in on you at around midday, and paused in the doorway.

“What are you wearing?” He asked gruffly.

“My.. clothes, sir?” You replied, because what sort of question was that?

After just ten minutes, Crocodile returned, and tossed a large shirt at you.

“It’s much too warm for that.” He said, to elaborate on what he’d meant.

“Oh, yeah it is. I didn’t realise how warm it would be until I left the house this morning, then it was too late to go back and change.” You said with a soft laugh, giving a not quite grimace, but not quite smile. He grunted and regarded you for a moment, then turned away and left the room. Well, alright then. You brushed off the interaction to continue with your work, because the heat didn’t make the pile of work disappear.

“Sir?” You asked, taking it in hand, mostly to get it off the work you were trying to do.

“That should be cooler.” He said, and then was gone. What? You lifted the shirt up, realising it was incredibly large, which would make it Crocodile’s. Fuck. His shirt. You waited a moment to ensure he was gone, then lifted it to your face to take a deep inhale of the scent of Crocodile's cologne and cigars. You loved that smell. You slipped into the closest bathroom to remove your previous clothes and replaced them with his oversized shirt, using your belt from the previous outfit to cinch it at the waist, and then pulled some of the fabric up further to rest overtop of the belt rather than underneath, which reduced the length. Not too bad. You kept on the bottoms you’d been wearing before despite your now lack of belt, because you didn’t think it was entirely appropriate to be in the office without.

You returned to your office, startled by Crocodile's presence in your chair.

“How is it?” He asked as you lifted your hand to rest over your heart, more than startled by his sudden reappearance, making the muscle beat thunderously beneath your ribs.

“Is there anything else I can help you with sir?” You asked, resting your hand on top of your desk just so it had somewhere to be, with your pockets out of reach beneath Crocodile’s shirt.

“I made it work.” You confirmed, placing your shirt from before, now folded, onto a dresser for you to grab later.

“Yes.. you did.” Crocodile murmured, and you stopped in your tracks as if frozen as a result of his words. The way he spoke was almost sensual, and your skin burned in response. You quickly shook your head, then continued your walk toward your desk.

“Would you like to come to dinner with me? Tonight?” He asked, and he looked about as surprised about his own words as you felt. Clearly nobody in the room had been expecting that suggestion.

“That’s very kid, sir. I’d happily take that invitation, if you’d like to do that.” You said, remaining as professional as you could given the situation. How were you supposed to react to an invitation like that from your boss, especially when he himself looked unsure about it?

“I’ll have Robin go pick up something nicer for you to wear, and when your shift ends you can use my bathroom to freshen up and change before we leave.” He said, suddenly far more sure of himself, decisive with clear instructions. He stood from your chair and headed for the door where he lingered for just a moment.

“Do you like Dressrosian food?” He asked, and just nodded when you confirmed before turning to sand and disappearing.

All you’d ever really wanted was for someone to want you, to care about you. Maybe care wasn’t the right word just yet but Crocodile saw you, more than most, and he at least wanted to take you to dinner. Maybe it’d go nowhere, but you wanted to be Crocodile’s and now you had the chance you’d never expected to have.

Tags: @claryeverlarkf @uselessboots @cainnoable

[hazelfoureyes]

Could you write a short story about a trans FTM Y/N coming out to alastor?

If not I don't mind!

I'm just starting to come out to some people and want to feel validated by alastor lolll

Mon Cher

You had to start somewhere. But the issue with these kinds of conversations is there’s never a natural point in talking to bring it up…. And sitting people down can be so stressful for everyone.

But you had an opportunity. 

Alastor was known for his pet names, often throwing out a dear or sweetheart.

So when he leaned against your side and asked, “Pass me that, will you ma chère?” You froze. Finally. The frustratingly gendered nature of languages was coming to your aid.

“Alastor, I’m not comfortable with being called ma chère. Can you call me mon cher?”

His face stilled, a moment of confusion. “That’s the word for males, dear.”

“Yeah. I know.” A nervous shift in your seat, “Actually, with all things. I prefer he or him and other male coded words. Those are the right words for me.”

Humans have been changing the way they were identified since humans invented ways to identify each other. Not a moment in time has there existed a point where every human language fully represented its people. Nor that every body was reflective of the soul it inherited. 

So Alastor didn’t need long to adjust. He knew quite a few dapper lads in his day who had made the same request.

“Of course mon cher. May I have that pen now?”

After you handed it over he let the tip hover over his paper for a second, without looking up, “Did you want to talk anymore about things?”

After thinking for a moment, “Do you think I’ll struggle with telling the others?”

He replied as he began his work, slowly, mostly for show, “Do you want to tell them?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, you won’t have an ounce of trouble. I guarantee it.” He looked up now, typically disheartening smile looking soft and gentle, “I’ll make sure of it, mon chéri*.”

Before the silence went on too long and he knew the topic would be changed he added, “Did you know Rosie makes custom suits? Quite the skilled seamstress. Perhaps we could stop by sometime. If you’d like.”

Not only had he truly meant the offer, you found telling him had brought a different kind of help. Sometimes you didn’t have to tell people at all once someone was there to set the new standard. 

A day soon after came when Alastor addressed you appropriately in public, “Well that’s too bad Charlie, I need his help with some studio work.”

And the crew looked at you, and you smiled, and they smiled and the conversation would carry on as normal. The only change being a few words replaced a few others and you got a small pat on the back as Husk left the group to tend bar.

Sometimes the first steps are the hardest but get us the furthest. 

Happy pride babies! made this very first steps for many people and I hope it was something you enjoyed. Apologies for the delay, i actually didn’t see this until about four days ago.

*“Mon cher” means “my dear”, said to a male person. “Ma chère” means the same, said to a female. “Mon chéri”, resp. “ma chérie”, means “my darling” or “my dearest”.

🏳️‍🌈Hazbin Masterlist🏳️‍🌈

[soobnny]

eighteen — kim seungmin.

trope. best friends to lovers. college au. slow burn. angst. fluff.

synopsis. it takes you a while to realize being known is being loved, and kim seungmin just so happens to be an expert in the study of you.

word count: 19.8k words

warnings. just extreme slow burn. some curse words. sexual jokes. drinking and being intoxicated. 

note. again my self indulgent take on seungmin in college :)

one.

Kim Seungmin has a habit of blowing up your phone every chance he gets. So, it really isn’t anything new to wake up to a million notifications from your best friend.

The range of apps from which he bothers you is astronomical.

(Instagram): _seungmin mentioned you in a comment: @ynbread lmao this video reminded me of u cos ure an idiot

(Tiktok): seungmin mentioned you in a comment: @ynbread us

(Twitter): seungmin replied to your tweet: I’m hungry can u reply to my messages

But nothing, absolutely nothing, can beat the 56 messages and 9 missed calls on your phone. You’d think it was an emergency if not for his last message, shining brightly through your screen.

minnie: i need a new face wash come with me so i can shut up about it 😡

You roll your eyes to yourself, skimming through the notifications on your lock screen without really opening them. It’s mostly just a series of Seungmin asking you if you were awake every hour with a few whining in between about how he’s bored and how you need to wake up. 

While you’re laughing at his overdramatic messages (has he been hanging out with Hyunjin too much these days?), you accidentally unleash a storm upon yourself.

You hadn’t meant to click on one of the notifications, and now a taunting “read” is on the bottom of his messages.

Big mistake.

All hell is about to break lose.

The moment Kim Seungmin receives the small indication that you’re finally awake, his face flashes on your screen almost immediately in a Facetime call. It’s tempting to decline his call in favor of burying your face back into your pillows, but the clock reads 11am and you have an annoying best friend that needs your attention. You know never to ignore Seungmin. You’ve learned that the hard way.

Swiping on accept, his head of fluffy hair pops up on your screen. “Finally! What took you so long?” His phone angle shifts so his face shows now – it seems like he’s outside as he’s looking left and right before crossing somewhere. 

“Sleeping.” You rub your eyes, propping your phone against a box of tissues so he can see you while you fix your bed. 

“Didn’t wanna wake up cause you were dreaming of me?” You can hear the laughter in his voice.

Appropriately, you respond by gifting him your middle finger. “You wish.”

“Did you sleep well?” You hum in response even though you doubt he could hear you amidst the noise outside and the shuffling of your bedsheets. “What did you need?” You grab your phone from your nightstand, walking towards your refrigerator to get a glass of water. 

“Face wash. You’re coming with me. Oh, and bring an umbrella, it’s drizzling a little.”

“Gonna have to raincheck.”

Second big mistake.

“Why?” He drawls his question, whining and pushing his phone deeper towards his face so you can see his visible disapproval at your response.

“Seungmin, I just woke up. It’s gonna take me forever to get ready, and you’re already outside.” 

There’s a lack of response from his end after a few seconds. When you look back at your phone screen, he seems preoccupied. “Minnie?” 

“Wait, wait. I have to hang up, give me a second.”

You tilt your head in confusion, but you don’t say anything else. This was a rare moment when you got to escape from Seungmin’s evil clutches of always dragging you along when he goes out. Looking through your closet for a change of clothes after you shower, you jump at the sudden and very rushed pounding on your door.

You should’ve known better.

Opening the door, a breathless Seungmin slips past the space before pushing your door closed. “Why was Crazy Karen on shift today?” He falls face first on your couch, still heaving after the cardio he’d done to sprint towards your unit. 

Seungmin’s been quite the expert at sneaking into your very ‘strict with visitors’ building. Not only has he befriended Derek (the security guard on duty when it wasn’t Karen), he’s gone through every possible entrance and has mastered the way to your door. He’s been doing it for the past three years, to the point you’re convinced he could navigate his way around blindfolded. 

Funnily enough, he was basically a criminal in your building. Karen (Crazy Karen, as Seungmin likes to call her) has been trying to catch him for forever. You’re convinced that one more push from Seungmin and she’d be printing flyers with his face on it with a clear “BANNED” message in red bold font and taping it on the walls of your building. 

Seungmin’s been able to escape her for months now. Though, despite being an expert vigilante, he still has his lapses. And today, he hadn’t been aware that Karen was on duty. “(Name), she hates me!” 

“She hates everyone.” You deadpan. Seungmin’s always found it disturbing that Karen didn’t like him. He was an angel in everyone’s eyes – your parents, Derek the security guard, your professors, your friends. If only they knew better. 

With the thousands of people that adore him, Seungmin doesn’t know why Karen was such a tough egg to crack. Maybe she knew better, that your best friend is the devil incarnate, but the devil incarnate that you adore. 

“How’d you get here so quickly? Wait… were you already on your way here before I picked up your call?” You ask pointedly, leaning against the wall and furrowing your eyebrows at Seungmin who still hasn’t left your couch, instead making himself comfortable by draping his legs across the armrest and hugging your throw pillow to his chest.

“Yes, cause you were ignoring me!” The pout on his face is so exaggerated, you would’ve smacked it off if you didn’t have the biggest crush on him.

“I wasn’t ignoring you. I was sleeping!”

“Tomato, tomato. Same thing.” 

You concede the argument with a sigh because God forbid he lost an argument to you. “Anyways, (name).” He’s whining again, staring at you while you skim through your clothes. “I’m so hungry, I could eat your couch.”

“You do you, I guess.” 

“Do you hate me?”

“Only sometimes.” 

This was the funny thing about your friendship with Seungmin. From an outsider’s perspective, they would’ve sworn you two disliked each other – from your pointed responses and backhanded comments towards one another. However, through the lens of your shared friends, they knew you completed each other. Nobody (aside from Minho, and occasionally Jeongin) could match your best friend’s personality quite well, and absolutely nobody could get him as soft as you could. It’s reserved for your eyes only.

Chan jokes around that Seungmin should never drive you away because he’s finally found someone who gets along with him terribly well aside from them. He agrees, but he would never outwardly admit it out loud to his friends or to you. But deep down, he knows that you two understand every inch of each other like you’re a reflection of one another.

With that said, he wouldn’t want to spend his time buying face wash with anyone else. 

When he suddenly gets off the couch, you look at him suspiciously. He’s walking in your direction now, beaming with his eyes squinting and lips curving up and hair falling perfectly on his forehead – he looks so cute that your heart starts feeling something you can’t quite identify. “(Name).” 

“Seungmin.” He grabs your hands without warning and your heart catapults out of your chest.  

“Come with me to buy face wash and we can eat lunch together. Please please, cause I’m your best friend and you can’t say no to me.” Seungmin defends his case like a lawyer desperate to win. 

He leans in impossibly closer to your face as a vindictive tactic to get you to say yes, and you’re embarrassed to admit it’s working. You tell yourself you’re only agreeing so he would stop fiddling with your fingers with his perfectly crafted hands and looking at you with his stupid, pretty eyes. 

“Fine, now let go of me so I can get a change of clothes. Besides, aren’t you like the number one Touch Hater anyway?”

Seungmin smiles triumphantly to himself, slipping his hands from yours. “How narcissistic of you to think you’re the only one I enjoy holding. I like Kkami too! And Soonie, and Doongie–”

“Why am I being classified with your friends’ pets?” 

Kim Seungmin doesn’t admit that you’re the only person he likes to hold. Instead, he shrugs and pushes you towards your bathroom so you could hurry up and he can finally buy his face wash. 

two.

The next time Kim Seungmin blows up your notifications is after you’ve just finished your last class of the week.

He’s already waiting for you outside your building, leaning against a lamp post and scrolling through dog videos on Tiktok with a few quokka appearances.

The algorithm confuses Seungmin in that it’s so fast to pick up the videos you’ve liked – even if it was just one. He’s pretty sure he’s only getting these rather abundant quokka videos because Jisung had borrowed his phone once and probably liked a Tiktok. Now it’s everywhere to the point that Seungmin could probably tell you at least 5 facts about them.  

He’s been standing there for a good 10 minutes now. He has given up on texting you to ask when your classes end (he reasons your professor must have overtime again), instead just adding a shit ton of videos to his “dog” collection on Tiktok.

When you exit the building with some of your blockmates, you feel your heartbeat pick up its pace at the sight of Seungmin in his oversized gray Dodgers hoodie (one of your personal favorites to steal) and some light washed pants with his cute smile and messy hair.

He looks a little embarrassed, as if he wants the earth to swallow him up right then and there. You suppose it’s because he’s been standing there awkwardly, having to look at people in the passing while waiting for you.

Once you appear though, the embarrassment fizzles away and Seungmin is making his way towards you with his hands buried deep in the pockets of his hoodie.

“One more overtime and I’m gonna have to report that professor.”

“You’re just saying that cause you’re impatient and you hate having to wait for five minutes.”

“10 minutes. I waited ten minutes today.” You laugh at the boy, attention wavering when your friends bid their goodbyes to you and Seungmin. You wave politely, and Seungmin mimics you, smiling sheepishly and waving back.

You know they’re tripping over themselves after Seungmin smiles and waves back at them. You’ve been told multiple times by your blockmates that your best friend looks like a walking dream – the campus crush from the International Law and Legal Studies building.

You don’t disagree, it’s not exactly like you were blind. Every time you’d walk with Seungmin anywhere, he was bound to get some attention from the people around you.

There are multiple admirers lining up for your best friend, shaking as they make their way up to him just to say ‘hi’ or purposely standing near him during college events. It also doesn’t help that his whole friend group were the campus crush from their respective majors.

Too bad for your blockmates and the multiple people lining up willing to donate their kidneys though. Seungmin doesn’t care much about anything and anyone outside his carefully selected circle.

He’s polite, smiling back and waving and holding small conversations but there’s always a hint of disinterest when they’d try to keep the conversation longer than he’d like. He isn’t stupid and knows there’s always an ulterior motive to get with him. He knows how easy it is to mistake politeness for interest.

“Come on, I want coffee.” How demonic is it to have a friend who’s convinced he’s Bill Gates’ son with the amount of times he’s asked you to eat out.

Seungmin pushes you forward by placing a hand on the small of your back, his other hand clutching his messenger bag, guiding you to walk ahead along the sidewalks of your university.

He makes sure you’re on the safer side of the road, bumping you to move to the side.

You stop in your tracks, shaking your head at the boy and he looks at you with utter confusion. “I’m not coming with you to buy overpriced coffee. I’ve used up all my allowance for the week.”

“Waited for you for ten minutes just to be rejected. Ouch.”

“Sucks to be you.”

You’re about to say your goodbye to your best friend, heels shifting to walk the other way when his hand easily wraps around your wrist, pulling you back to where he’s stood. You slap his hand away, pointing an accusatory finger at his direction. “You are not gonna convince me. Not again.”

Screw him and his large hands and how easy it is for him to maneuver them back around your wrist to keep you in place. “I’ll pay, just come with me.”

You surrender in an instant. Who were you to pass on free coffee?

Seungmin smiles victoriously when you start walking by his side again before his face falls in a pout, going off in a tangent about how you’re only willing to hangout with him if he’s paying and how he’s too young to be your sugar daddy.

You sigh in relief when you reach the campus coffee shop, the strong aroma of coffee immediately filling your senses as Seungmin breathes out in delight.

Going straight to the counter, he orders himself an Iced Americano before turning to look at you. “Just the usual?” You nod your head, moving away to find a seat for the both of you.

Every time you’re in a coffee shop (which is, a lot), you’re reminded of the first time you met Seungmin.

He was working part time at a coffee shop, trying to save some money for college and you were merely a customer. He had accidentally knocked the - thankfully, cold - coffee all over you. In compensation, he begs for your order again so he could make it for free.

He still knows your coffee order by heart up until today.

Taking both of your orders, Seungmin moves to settle back to wherever you’re seated when he spots Jisung and Changbin sitting at your table as well.

He should’ve known they’d be here today – they practically lived on coffee. Seungmin supposes this is what double majoring in Music Management and with Music Theory and Composition looks like.

“Not you two again.” Seungmin fakes exasperation, standing by Jisung who’s seated next to you before shooing him away, claiming that Jisung was in his spot. Jisung simply smirks knowingly before shuffling towards the seat next to Changbin.

“So, I have a funny story.” When Changbin speaks up, Jisung is quick to clasp a hand over his mouth.

“We don’t have a funny story.” He counters Changbin’s claim pointedly, shaking his head and glaring at his best friend.

But who could open up a topic and not proceed around Seungmin? He’ll pull up every piece of blackmail he has on his phone, appropriately labeled “to use against friends” and start threatening you. Absolutely no one can escape Seungmin, and that’s how you find Changbin telling the story of how someone had kissed Jisung and when she pulled away, all he did was say “thank you”.

“Who says that after kissing someone?” Your laughter triggers a smile on Seungmin’s face, too busy observing you to make fun of Jisung. He’ll save that for later when you walk home together. For now, the sight of you laughing is too enchanting to look away from.

Jisung, on the other hand, ignores your question. He’s already embarrassed enough.

“I don’t know! I was nervous! My brain doesn’t work sometimes, you know?” Jisung’s running his hand through his hair in frustration, desperately trying to defend himself, hands moving inanimately while speaking.

“Your brain doesn’t work all the time.” Seungmin retorts and the boy pouts at his younger friend.

“Can we talk about something else?”

You, in fact, do not talk about anything else much to Jisung’s dismay. On your way back home, Changbin brings it up again after jokingly kissing Jisung’s cheek and saying “thank you” right after.  

A heavy arm swings around your shoulder, Seungmin pulling you towards him as he lets his other friends be with their teasing. You look up at your best friend, shifting your attention back to the ground when you meet his gaze.

You’re walking slightly ahead of the two boys, and Seungmin’s just asking you how your day was. He always does this. Every time he walks you back to your building, he’d always ask how your day went.

This might have stemmed from your first and only huge argument – when you kept your feelings to yourself because you didn’t want to be a bother to him. Seungmin’s made sure to create a comfortable space for you to vent to him ever since.

When you talk, Seungmin listens attentively. You don’t know if you love or hate it. It’s a little difficult to recount what happened in your day when he’s looking at you like that. Seungmin may tease you a lot, but you know he cares a lot and one of his ways of showing that is by listening to you.

Your quiet conversation is cut short when the two boys catch up with you, Jisung’s eyes narrow at Seungmin while he walks backward so he’s in front of Seungmin. “How come you like touching (name) and not us?”

“Don’t say it like that, you sound like a perv.” Changbin smacks the back of his head and Jisung giggles when his choice of words dawn on him.

“Sorry. I mean, how come you’re not disgusted to initiate physical contact with her! What about me?”

(Because I like her, Seungmin thinks but doesn’t actually say).

Instead, Seungmin smirks, keeping his arm around you before teasing his older friend. “Aw, is our Jisung getting jealous? Don’t worry, I’ll hold your hand once we drop (name) off.”

“Actually?” Jisung beams at what Seungmin says and he halts his steps, instead walking forward with his hand outstretched towards where Seungmin’s standing.

“No, fuck off! I was kidding!” You laugh when Seungmin detaches himself from you so he can properly run away from Jisung who’s desperate to hold the young boy’s hand.

It’s in moments like these, when the feeling of his arm around your shoulder still lingers, and Jisung’s words echo in your head (why does he only hold you?), and Changbin’s nudging your side knowingly, that makes you think.

Could you possibly mean something more to Seungmin? The way that he means to you?

three.

Apart from your notifications, Kim Seungmin has a habit of blowing up your ears. 

You hear him before you see him. Winter seems startled at the sudden screech of your name from the other side of the street, laughing quietly to herself when she spots Seungmin running at you in full speed. She pays no mind when Seungmin latches himself around you, waving at her after finding a comfortable spot to rest his chin (on top of your head). 

“That felt like it came out of a movie.”

You’re still waiting for your food with Winter by the food truck. Seungmin doesn’t seem to mind the wait. Despite learning over the years that he was impatient and usually annoyed at anyone and everything that made him wait, he’s also come to realize that he doesn’t mind the wait when it comes to you. Why else would he wait for you despite your professor being well known for always going past his allotted time? 

He couldn’t do that for anyone else. 

“What are your plans after here?” Seungmin directs the question towards the both of you, slowly unhooking himself from around you to look at the menu of the food truck. 

“Might go to the mall and buy some airpods.” Winter mumbles, pulling her bucket hat down in embarrassment as Seungmin stares at her in disbelief. “Wow. You said that as if you’re just buying a pencil or something.”

“No! What happened is that… I thought I left my airpods in my mom’s car. But look at this.” She pulls out her phone, showing the notification that said ‘French fries (the name of her airpods) is far from the user’. “So I think I must’ve left it on the plane when I was coming back here from the academic break.” 

Winter’s pouting now at the thought of her upcoming big purchase. “I can’t survive without them. How am I supposed to tune everyone out?” 

“Order for Winter.” The conversation is cut abruptly by the man at the food truck with your orders. You break out in a smile at the sight of the food, taking it from Winter and whispering a quick ‘thank you’. 

“Spending money is so easy, but saving feels like a war.” Winter adds before she smells her food, mirroring the smile on your face and taking a bite out of the hard-shell taco she ordered. Seungmin looks around for a place to sit, spotting a bench not too far. “Come on, you girls need to sit.”

Ever the gentleman, Seungmin carries your drinks for you while you eat your food and walk to the bench he had spotted. Taking your seats, Winter pats your thigh and nods her head. “You got yourself a good one. I approve.” 

You’re confused for a moment before you feel the heat creep up from your neck to your entire face. Thank God Seungmin didn’t hear Winter implying that she approved of him as your boyfriend. If he did, he pretended not to hear.

However, he isn’t blind and can see your impossibly red face in abruptness.

“Woah, do you need something to drink?” He grabs his water bottle from his bag, unscrewing the cap and nudging it to your general direction. You gratefully take it from him, chugging down his water to try and cool yourself down. Winter all but giggles, pretending she didn’t almost trigger you to choke down on your food. 

The next few minutes are spent in silence with you and Winter savoring your food and Seungmin scrolling through his phone to check if he had any deadlines he missed. One of his hands rests naturally on your thigh, as if it was the most normal thing. 

When Winter finishes her food, she abruptly gets up from her seat, facing the both of you. “I’m gonna get going now so I can buy the airpods and wallow in my dorm until I fall asleep.” Your face scrunches up in amusement, nodding your head and getting up from your seat to give her a quick hug. “Take care! Text me when you get home.”

“I hope you get me for Secret Santa this year!” Seungmin earns a soft punch from Winter at his side comment before she’s off to the mall. Seungmin’s quick to pull you back down on the bench when Winter leaves, scooting so there’s almost no space between the two of you. 

“Do you have plans after here?” You hum, trying to think if you needed to be somewhere. Chewing down on your bottom lip, you shake your head. “I don’t think so.” 

“Good. You’re eating dinner with me. And don’t worry, I know what you’re thinking. We’re just going to the cafeteria on campus. I’m not gonna rob you off of your allowance.” You laugh in approval, taking another bite down your taco before tilting your body so you’re facing Seungmin, offering some up to your best friend.

“You want some?” You find he’s staring somewhere else instead of the food you had pushed up to his face. Trying to follow his gaze, you tilt your head with wide, doe-eyes before looking back to see if there was something behind you. “What are you looking at?”

Seungmin clears his throat, snapping out of his daydream. “Nowhere. Just…” You’ve never seen Seungmin this hesitant before. He’s pulling at the sleeves of the green sweater he’s wearing, looking around before he fixes his gaze on you again. 

Without warning, he sticks his thumb out to wipe something at the corner of your lips. 

“You had some sauce on your lips.” He’s looking straight ahead now, avoiding your eyes, as if he didn’t just leave you dumbfounded. “Close your mouth. You look like a fish.” Only then do you realize your lips have parted a little at his sudden actions. 

And then, just like Winter, he abruptly gets up. You don’t notice the redness at the tip of his ears when he leans down to pinch your cheeks. “Jeongin says he needs me. I’ll meet you for dinner, okay?” 

You don’t tell him you know that Jeongin’s still in class right now.

four.

When you arrive, Kim Seungmin is already there, waving you over to where he’s seated. 

It’s packed, as usual, filled with college kids that lived in the dorm areas around the campus. However, Seungmin still finds a seat for the both of you. 

Slipping past numerous sleep-deprived college kids, you make your way to your best friend. He greets you with a quick side hug before he’s pushing the best selling mango shake of your cafeteria in your direction. “Oh my god, they weren’t sold out?” 

Every student in your university knows that The Sunshine Harvest’s mango shake was the best drink ever made in mankind. It’s the stall with the longest line in your cafeteria which explains why it always sells out so fast. Everyone would rush to the cafeteria after their last class just to buy a cup – and it was budget friendly. You’ve long given up on buying one (after months) as your schedule never lined up to when there were still some left. You complained about it all the time to Seungmin.

“It wasn’t sold out when I got there. Probably is now.” He shrugs, trying to act nonchalant even though your smile is tipping him over the edge. 

All you did was smile, and Seungmin’s forgotten everything he’s supposed to say or do. It was definitely worth waiting in line for 30 minutes, he concludes.

Happily sipping on your shake, you ask Seungmin if you should start lining up at the food stalls to get dinner. He simply nods his head, telling you to go ahead so he could look after your seats while you search for what you want to eat. Seungmin takes the small time he has alone to calm down.

Then, he receives a phone call from you.

“Do you want pizza?”

“Pizza’s fine.”

“Okay, I’ll buy us pizza.”

“When you finish ordering, just come here and give me the receipt, okay? I’ll wait for it.”

“Minnie, you’re quite literally the most impatient man on this planet. I can do it.” 

“And you had a long day of classes today. Get your ass back here.” 

Within minutes, you’re back at your seat and Seungmin’s sitting you down, taking the receipt from your hands. “Good girl.” He ruffles your hair, dropping his hand right after to squish your pouting cheeks before he’s off to wait for your pizza. 

You drop your head on the table immediately after he leaves. Something in the way he said ‘good girl’ has your heart racing, and you can hear him tell you the table’s dirty but you cannot function at the moment so your face takes the consequence of Seungmin’s words. 

Moments later, Seungmin returns with your pizza, setting it down on the table before taking his seat across from you. There’s still steam blowing from the pizza from how recent it was baked, and you hear your stomach grumble at the sight. You start to fiddle with your fingers, contemplating whether you should wait for it to cool down or grab a slice right now. 

It looks so tempting to take a bite off.

“Don’t.” Before you can even proceed with your devious plan, you feel Seungmin flick your forehead as if he knows what you’re thinking. It’s because he does. Seungmin has memorized your body language. He knows you want to take a slice, and he also knows it’s still hot, and your tongue’s gonna burn, and you’re going to regret it. You slump back in your seat in defeat. 

Seungmin considers himself a genius when it comes to the study of you. While was a stellar student in his school subjects, nothing will come close to the extent of knowledge he has on you. He’s learned about you for years, to the point he thinks he might know you better than he knows himself. He can read you like an open book – his open book. He knows that when the tip of your ears turn red, it means you’re angry. He knows you fiddle with your fingers when you’re bored. He knows you’re one of the few people who puts milk before the cereal (he’s sworn to keep that secret safe with him). 

If Seungmin were to write his thesis paper about you, he was sure he’d get a perfect mark. He’s been unknowingly tucking little things he loved about you in his heart, which is why he waited those thirty damn minutes just to buy you that stupid mango shake that you loved so much. 

He’s looking at you now, staring intensely at the pizza as if it'll cool down faster if you sent it a threatening glare. He smiles to himself, where you can’t see, and he thinks – “Wow, I really really like her.” And for a moment, he thinks he’s brave enough to say it out loud, but seconds turn into minutes and the moment passes. Instead, he chooses to roll up the wrapper from your straw and flick it at you to get your attention and tell you it’s okay to eat your pizza now. 

And you smile, immediately going in to take a slice. You smile, and Seungmin thinks he never wants to go a day without seeing you smile. He forgives himself for not being able to tell you how he feels right now. He thinks he still has time. He still has so much time in the world to confess to you.

“It’s still hot. Careful, okay?” You take a bite and immediately wave a hand in front of your mouth from the heat. He laughs at your eagerness to finish the pizza despite its temperature and he reaches to grab his own slice. 

Seungmin wishes he can spend all his dinners like this.

It isn’t long before Seungmin’s walking you home. Despite living in the dorms within campus, he still pushes to walk you back to your building that’s a little outside of the campus. “I’ll walk you home. Come on.” 

On the way back, you spot the campus cats and dogs. You squeal at the sight of them, immediately crouching down and calling at them to come to where you and Seungmin are. The cats come mewling by your feet. Seungmin mirrors you and crouches down to pick one up in his arms, checking their collars and cooing audibly. “Hello, mushroom.” 

“Oh, she’s so cute.” You stand back up to pet the little kitten in Seungmin’s arms. She reminds you of one of Minho’s cats. Minho would love her. And then, you gasp. You spot the cutest golden retriever puppy, scratching at his collar. Seungmin puts the kitten down to follow you towards where the puppy’s sitting.

“Hello there…” You take a quick glimpse at his collar. “Fang. What a cute name.” You speak in a soft voice, lifting him up gently in your arms. Fang seems to immediately melt in your touch the moment you pick him up and give him some head rubs. 

Mushroom’s meowing in jealousy when Seungmin gives his attention elsewhere. 

“Want me to rub your back? Or give you some belly rubs?” You smile sweetly, moving your hard towards his back and moving your fingers along his fur. “Minnie. Do you ever think about how easy it is to steal them?” 

He laughs at your proposition, giving it a thought. “Maybe sometimes. I’m already a criminal in your building. Might as well be a criminal on campus too.” Seungmin joins you to rub behind Fang’s ears, a smile creeping up on his face.

“It’s getting late. We’re gonna have to go.” Seungmin says gently and you pout as you put the boy down. “I wish I could put you in my bag and take you home. You’re such a good boy.” You bid your goodbye to the puppy before letting him down. 

“That just made my entire day.” You say to no one in particular as you wave one last time to the cats and dogs who go back to playing amongst themselves.

On the rest of the way back, Seungmin complains about Minho and his Criminal Law professor, and you talk about the long list of long tests and quizzes you have lined up for next week. Conversation with Seungmin always comes so easy. And when he sees your building, he makes it a point to slow down his pace so you can finish your story about the time Ryujin put red dye in Chaeryeong’s shampoo bottle. And he listens. 

With you, it’s easy to forget time. 

You finish your story just in time. Seungmin won’t tell you he tried to time it perfectly so you wouldn’t be interrupted while you happily shared the story. 

“Goodnight idiot. Don’t pull another all nighter.” As usual, Seungmin’s fingers find their way to pinch your cheeks before pushing you towards the glass doors of your building. You laugh when you notice Seungmin’s eyes brighten at the sight of Derek, and he immediately sends a wave to his favorite security guard which Derek happily returns.

“Goodnight. Walk home safely!” 

On the way back to his dorms, Seungmin’s phone buzzes from the pocket of his jeans. It's a notification from Jeongin.

(Instagram): maknaeontop mentioned you in a comment: @_seungmin isnt this u with yn LOL

The post reads: “I’ll walk with you” is just an excuse to spend more time with someone before they go and that’s romantic as fuck.

Seungmin rolls his eyes and locks his phone before shoving it in the pockets of his jeans. How convenient is Jeongin’s timing to tag him in that post after he just walked you home.

five.

Kim Seungmin also enjoys complaining a lot. Despite being the one to offer his help, he’s holding up quite an attitude while he’s carrying your laundry to the laundry shop.

You were simply just texting each other, and you happened to tell him you were going to be doing your laundry today, and how you were dreading the long walk while carrying your shit ton of dirty clothes. That’s how you find Kim Seungmin waiting for you outside your building, taking his sweet time glaring at Karen. 

“Seungmin in the building!” His arms are open when he greets you and you fall into them in an instant. Seungmin rarely offers to hug you first so you take the moment to wrap your arms around him and stay in his embrace. Although, his enthusiasm doesn’t hold though when he’s carrying two bags of laundry on each of his shoulders and you’re walking to the laundry shop together. 

“You seriously didn’t have to do this.”

“You would’ve suffered from extreme shoulder and back pains, and I would’ve had to hear about it for the rest of the day. I’m doing myself a favor.” 

You roll your eyes and the conversation falls silent. A comfortable silence. 

You take the moment to look Seungmin over. He’s just wearing a white shirt and some sweatpants, and yet he looks like the most beautiful person on the planet. That’s Seungmin for you. He could wear anything and make it work. 

Fuck, he’s an alarm clock, and you’re so dazed by the way his hair looks like fluffy auburn under the sun, and how the outline of his chest is easy to see through his white shirt, and how his muscles are flexing from the weight of the bags he’s carrying. Since when did he start going to the gym? Was he always this tall? 

He looks painfully dashing and you’re unaware that you’ve made it to the laundry shop until Seungmin’s snapping his fingers in front of your face to get your attention. “Huh, wait. Sorry.” You flush in embarrassment at being caught daydreaming.

“Lost you for a second there.” 

You immediately get to work. You’ve already separated your clothes prior to coming here, so you begin to pour two caps of laundry detergent into the washer. Seungmin mirrors your actions so you can finish your laundry earlier. Pile by pile, you start adding your clothes to the washer and push the knob to turn it to normal cycle setting. 

While waiting, you and Seungmin simply sit on the floor and lean against the wall, staring at the washer with your head resting on his shoulder and your legs outstretched on the ground. 

You wonder when you should do your groceries. Maybe on Tuesday after your 1pm long test? You don’t think you have anything else to do on that day. Has Seungmin finished doing his groceries or would he want to come with you? You think he has a full day of classes on Tuesday. 

“What’s on your mind?”

“Huh, what?” You pull your head away from his shoulder, and Seungmin regrets asking what’s on your mind. It’s too late to double down though. 

“You were chewing on your lips. Assumed you were deep in thought.” You don’t know how chewing your lips has anything to do with being deep in thought. Have you always chewed down on your lips when you were thinking of something? Seungmin curses himself for letting that slip out so easily. 

“Just thinking about when I should do my groceries.” Seungmin quickly dismisses the topic in fear of his feelings being caught. It doesn’t seem like you want to talk much about groceries either. So, you fall back in your comfortable silence and your head is back on his shoulder and a smile instantly crawls its way to Seungmin’s lips while he leans his head on yours. 

“Why does it seem like it’s taking longer than usual?” You whine, staring at the washer with your eyes squinted a little. You look at the clock to see how much time has passed by and then back at the washer as if it’d speed up if you did. “Yeah, I’m tired of hanging out with you.” 

Seungmin’s head falls when you pull your own head back to stick your tongue out at him. He just chuckles at you, linking his arm around you so he can pull you back. “Come back. I was comfortable.” He wraps an arm around you so he can push your head back on his shoulder and your heart skips a beat when he nuzzles his head against yours once again. 

“Shouldn’t have said you were tired of hanging out with me then.” You mumble, afraid that your voice would quiver if you spoke any louder. Seungmin simply dismisses you with a wave of his head. “Yeah, yeah, I’m sorry.”

Time always moves faster when you’re actually enjoying the moment because a few minutes pass and the washer stops, and now you have to take your clothes out and place them in the dryer. 

Seungmin stays, telling you he’d help with folding up your clothes and bringing them back to your building – which is exactly what he does when the dryer finishes. And somehow, folding your clothes has turned into a competition between the two of you when he’s claiming he can fold much more than you can. 

He wins.

“It’s just because you have big hands!” 

“Your argument makes no sense.” 

“It does so! See, see. Look.”

You lift your hand mid-air, explaining to him why more work can be done with less effort if you have big hands compared to having smaller hands. It’s like walking less steps when you have longer legs. You’re not sure you’re making sense yourself, and you’re definitely not sure how to function when Seungmin reaches to meet his hand with yours. 

His hands are big.

“You do have tiny baby hands. Are your hands smaller than Felix’s?” The moment feels way too intimate for you. While you’re just comparing hand sizes, it's the warmth of his hands that catch you off guard and the feeling that you wouldn’t mind feeling his hand like this every day.

Seungmin thinks about how easy it’d be to just intertwine your hands together.

“Uh… I don’t know. We’ll have to see.” You instantly pull your hand back, packing your folded clothes back in your bags. You don’t know why your face won’t stop smiling at what just happened so you bury your head deep into the bags so Seungmin can’t see how red your cheeks are. 

“They’re definitely smaller. You don’t have to check.”

Seungmin doesn’t admit either that he doesn’t want you to press your hand against Felix’s like you did with his. 

six.

Even when you’re not together physically, he still finds a way to annoy you. 

“That’s what phones are made of!” He explains over the phone while you’re grocery shopping. Seungmin doesn’t seem to mind that his only view in your Facetime call is your double chin and the piles of food behind you. 

“What are you doing grocery shopping on a Sunday anyway? Isn’t this your sleeping day?” He says as if it was a matter-of-fact. “There are no rules stating I can’t grocery shop on a Sunday.” You deadpan before grabbing a bottle of shampoo from the shelves. 

The old lady looks at you like you’re crazy and you blush in embarrassment, pulling your cart away and moving to another section of the shop. It must look like you’re talking to yourself.

“You’re stressed, aren’t you?” Seungmin shifts from his position so he’s sitting up and he can hear you better which catches your attention. “So maybe I am a little.” You grab some toilet paper before you start to walk to the frozen section. 

“You know you can talk to me, right? I’m always here to carry the weight with you.” You smile at the rare words of affirmation from your best friend. It was never his love language. He showed his affection through his acts of service, so you appreciate that he’s lowering down his teasing to genuinely comfort you while you’re stressed.

“I know. It’s just…” So you talk to him. 

You rant to your best friend while you’re walking around the grocery store, and while numerous other old ladies and men look at you like you need to seek psychiatric help. You tell him about your blockmates and how they rarely put in work during group projects and activities. Seungmin knows it’s bothering you more than ever now since exams are nearing. That meant so were a shit ton of project deadlines. 

“Need me to talk to them?” You laugh, dismissing him while you examine the ice cream flavors available. “That’s just embarrassing for me. Though, I’ll admit they’d be scared shitless if The Kim Seungmin scolded them.” You lean down to pick up the Rocky Road tub for yourself and a Mint Choco for Seungmin.

“Don’t talk about me like I’m all that. I’m just… Minnie.” Your heart warms at how he uses your nickname for him. “And I’m serious. I  won’t hesitate talking to them if you need someone to knock some sense into them.” Your best friend scoffs at the thought of your group mates and the unnecessary amount of stress they’re putting you in.

“It’s alright. I’ll handle them. Do you need anything?” Your grocery list has long been crashed out and discarded in your pocket, now just looking around to see if there was anything else you could fit in your budget. 

“Do you think you can get me some eggs?” You hum, moving towards where the dairy products are. “Just one carton?” You ask, skimming through them before grabbing a dozen upon Seungmin’s approval. 

When he tells you he doesn’t need anything else, you move to fall in line so you can pay for your groceries. Only then do you realize that Seungmin’s wearing the fuzzy socks you got for him a few Christmases back. 

“I thought you threw those out.” 

“Hm?” Seungmin asks you to clarify.

“The socks I gave you as a gift.”

“I would never! They’re my happy socks. Also, wasn’t this the Christmas when you received that Ghibli inspired night light?” 

“Yeah! How’d you remember?”

“You were really happy to get it. You would not stop talking about it.” He smiles his Seungmin smile while recalling the memory. You had quite literally screamed when you opened it and Seungmin almost fell out of his ass thinking that you got hurt or injured. 

“Best. Gift. Ever.” You stressed every word, looking ahead to see you’re next in line. “I’m taking that as a challenge.” 

“Alright. I have to pay. I’ll talk to you later!”

“Text me…”

“I’ll text you when I get home, I know, I know. Bye!” You hang up the call just in time for the person before you to finish and you start loading your items on the counter. When you exit the shop, you spot Felix with his own bag of groceries as well. 

He greets you enthusiastically the moment he spots you, going in to give you a short hug and a small pat on your head. He’s smiling his sunshine smile as the two of you walk through the large shop together, and he’s kind enough to offer to carry one of your shopping bags for you as you exit. You decide to just take the train back to campus together as he lives in one of the in-campus dorms as well. 

“Soooo… you and Seungmin together yet?” Felix stabs the silence with a knife, immediately going in for the kill. You scrunch your face, shaking your head as you look at him with your eyes squinted. “Felix.”

“No, but like! He’s always so happy when he’s with you. And even when you’re not around, he goes on and on about you. I’m pretty sure Changbin knew everything about you before he even met you.”

“Don’t give me false hope.” You nibble on your lip, looking down at your groceries as Felix navigates the both of you towards the train station. 

Felix pauses, a small hand on your back to make sure he doesn’t lose you in the crowd of people waiting to catch the train. “It’s not false hope!” Felix is trying to find a way to properly articulate his thoughts to you. He’s not dumb – he sees the way Seungmin looks at you. Seungmin doesn’t need to tell him. 

“Okay, listen to this. So, one time I went to their dorm, right? Cause I was stress-baking and I made too many brownies and I know how much Innie loves them so I went there. It was a little late in the night, and when I walked in about to announce my presence, Seungmin saw me.”

You look at him confused, but let him continue the story.

“Turns out, you had fallen asleep on him while the three of you were watching a movie, and there was this look on his face. I can’t even begin to explain, but he had this look, and he told me to be quiet so I don’t wake you up.”

You just scoff at his story. 

“Fine, don’t believe me. One day, I’m gonna say I told you so.” He teases, and a faint smile forms on your face. “Let’s hope I get to hear that.” You feel your heart pumping at the thought. Felix seems really sincere with his words, but you didn’t want to hang onto something you don’t see yourself. 

It’s quiet after that when you enter the train. It’s a little packed so there isn’t a seat for you and Felix, but he protectively stands beside you and ghosts an arm around you so you don’t fall when the train accelerates. Felix walks you all the way to your building before he hands you back your grocery bag. 

“Bye Felix! Be safe.”

“Bye (name). Go and kiss Seungmin for me!” 

“I hate you.” 

He waves to you as he leaves and now the thought of kissing Seungmin is stuck in your head. Screw Lee Felix and his endless teasing. 

seven.

You don’t see Seungmin until Thursday that week. You’ve been stressed. Really stressed. And Seungmin’s well aware. 

He lets you rant to him at night, playing the part of your diary. He lets you be angry, he lets you be annoyed – without shame. He lets you feel every emotion and reminds you you’re valid for feeling that way.

You’re always thankful for Seungmin. You’re appreciative of the way he drops whatever he’s doing at any hint that you’re stressed just so he can listen. He doesn’t say anything while you rant, letting the moment be entirely yours. He simply plays his part as someone who’s there to hold the moment with you because he’s lucky enough to be the one to hear it. 

So, on a Thursday, you text him asking if it was okay for you to drop by the dorms. He says yes in an instant, but tells you to come in 2 hours. He must’ve been busy. 

But now, two hours later, you’re standing outside his dorm building with the carton of eggs you bought him and some jjajangmyeon. Jeongin, Seungmin’s roommate, is the one who greets you. 

“(Name)!”

“Jeongin!”

He rushes to hug you, wrapping his long arms around you and lifting you from the ground just a little before placing you down safely. “How long has it been since you visited us? I’m a little hurt.” He accompanies you to leave your student ID with the guard, holding up the conversation and offering to bring the plastic bag you’re holding.

Jeongin announces your arrival by knocking on the door. How unusual for someone who also lives in that same dorm he’s knocking. Maybe he didn’t bring the keys with him?

There’s a sound of vague stumbling and cursing and rushing around before the door swings open to reveal a sweating Seungmin. “Hey. Long time no see.” He lets out a breath, one you think he’s been holding before he steps aside to let the both of you in. He smiles at you before his eyes land on the plastic Jeongin’s holding. 

“My eggs! Thank you.” Seungmin pinches your cheeks in thanks before grabbing the bag from Jeongin who’s still chuckling over Seungmin’s very excited exclamation of his eggs. “And some jjajangmyeon, too? (Name), you sure know your way around my heart.” 

“You’re welcome.” You sit yourself on their couch, noticing that the place has been tidied up a little. You laugh at the boys’ effort to clean up before you came over. 

“You feeling better?” Seungmin plops down at the spot next to you, fixing his gaze on you. 

“A little.” (Way better now that I’m here with you–).

“Good. Being stressed ages you faster. You’re already like half fifty or something.”

(--so I can strangle you.)

Jeongin nudges Seungmin suddenly, clearing his throat. You look at the younger boy suspiciously and suddenly Seungmin’s sweating again despite not doing anything. “I have a surprise.” 

“You… have a surprise?” You tilt your head in confusion. Seungmin tells you to wait one moment as he waddles towards the door of their bathroom. What surprise could possibly be linked to their bathroom. “Seungmin. I swear to god if you show me one of your shit–”

Then, he opens the door and out comes running… Fang? 

“Did you kidnap the campus dog?!” You shoot out of your seat, mouth dropping at the sight of the dog who’s excitedly jumping and demanding for your attention. “I was kidding when I talked about kidnapping them!” 

“You said they’d cheer you up no matter what!” Your initial shock dissipates when Fang looks so cute barking and jumping at you, so you sit back down and he immediately hops on their couch to lay down on your lap.

“I helped too.” Jeongin states proudly, sitting on your left so you’re in between him and Seungmin who has taken the spot on your right. “You made the baby help you steal?” Seungmin rolls his eyes, rubbing Fang’s head. “He was more than happy to do it.” 

Only then do you allow your heart to explode in your chest. Seungmin actually kidnapped the campus dog to surprise you because you’d been stressed for the week. Your emotions feel heightened, and you feel an overwhelming wave of love wash over you at its purest, unsolicited form. 

He did this for you just because. He did it without expecting anything in return. He did it because you briefly mentioned how they made your day when you saw them that one time you ate dinner together. 

You can’t do anything but stare at him for a moment, unable to really pay attention to Fang, not that he really needs it. Jeongin’s giving him enough attention by playing around with him. You’re absolutely dumbfounded at the heavy implication of care in his actions. Here he was next to you, holding with him all your feelings you’ve had for years. 

“Thank you, Minnie.” You lean in to give him a small kiss on his cheek before you’re getting up to play with Fang and Jeongin. His pretty brown eyes go wide. There’s a deep inhalation while he sits there after you’d kissed his cheek. He’s taken by surprise, almost frozen in his spot. 

He’d kidnap all the campus dogs and cats just to feel your lips on his cheek again. 

He’s snapped out of his daze by the sound of knocking and almost immediately Jeongin’s rushing Fang back into their bathroom to hide him and their filthy crimes. They were going to return him. They were simply… borrowing.

Seungmin answers the door once Jeongin safely hides the cute puppy. 

It’s Lee Minho. 

“It’s just Minho!” Minho invites himself inside, waving at you once he spots you. “Why are you here?” 

“I invited him so he could cook dinner for us. My wallet’s bleeding and I’m craving a home cooked meal.” Jeongin responds, opening the bathroom door to let Fang out again who instantly warms up to Minho. There’s obvious relief in his voice at not being caught. He was an accessory to the crime after all. 

“Only if I get a hug from Seungminie.” Minho’s smirking, inching closer and closer to Seungmin who puts his arms out in front of him to block himself from the boy. “Move! You’re dirty! And don’t call me that.” 

Minho all but laughs at Seungmin’s response, already having predicted it. He ignores Seungmin’s passiveness when it comes to affection, choosing instead to pet the puppy by his feet. “I’m not even gonna ask why you stole the campus dog.”

“We’re just borrowing him!” 

“Can you steal Mushroom for me too?” Minho pats your head affectionately when he passes by you to make his way to the kitchen, looking through the pots and pans and ingredients to figure out what he’s going to be cooking tonight. 

“Depends how much you’re willing to pay me.” Seungmin grins evilly, and Minho all but shakes his head at the younger boy.

It goes on like this for a while. You help Minho out sometimes at the kitchen because Seungmin and Jeongin cannot for the life of them cook without causing a fire, and then Minho pushes you to go back and play with Fang since Seungmin went through all the trouble kidnapping him for you (Jeongin couldn’t keep the secret and told Minho right away why they decided to steal the puppy). 

You feel genuine happiness when you’re around them. The feeling remains even when you’ve sat down to eat. 

Jeongin and Minho also can’t help but notice the happiness radiating off of Seungmin who’s staring at you and your smile when he thinks no one is looking.

eight.

Kim Seungmin’s friends are basically an extension of yours, like how your friends are an extension of his. 

While some are closer with others, you don’t mind each other’s presence. Seungmin’s friend group is way bigger than yours – 8 boys including himself. As for you, you liked sticking with Winter, Chaeryeong, and Ryujin. 

Hanging out in the big field of your school was supposed to be only amongst you and the 3 girls, but when the boys caught wind of your plans, they asked if they could tag along. 

That’s how you find yourselves sitting on the field’s grass and chatting while some play a variation of volleyball by the side. 

Everyone’s doing their own little thing, happy to just spend the afternoon with friends after a long week of classes. Ryujin’s bullying Chan, untying his shoelaces every chance she gets. Chaeryeong and Minho are discussing amongst themselves about their dance showcase coming up since they were both majoring in the same course (with Changbin constantly trying to bother them both – you wish Chaeryeong would punch him again so you could catch it on video this time). Hyunjin’s asking for Winter’s advice since he’s been tinkering with the idea of taking up Fashion Design. The rest of the boys are playing around with the exception of Seungmin who’s laying down on the picnic blanket you’d laid out. 

“You mentioned you had a quiz today, right? How was that?” You look down at Seungmin even though he has an arm draped over his eyes to shield them from the sun. 

“I think I did alright. Bolted out of there as soon as they started discussing their answers.” 

The boy simply laughs, tuning out everyone else in favor of listening to your voice. It doesn’t last long though when Jisung is bothering everyone to play volleyball together. He claims it’s perfect since you were 12 total so exactly 6 people would be on each time like an actual game. 

Feeling nice today, you decided to join in on his idea. Jisung is thankful for the support. It’s always his ideas that are turned down – though he’s to blame most of  the time. Who thinks swimming in an ice cold lake is a good idea to hangout? 

It’s only now that he thinks of something that’s normal to do so everyone gives him a chance.

So, you play. You, Ryujin, Chan, Felix, Minho and Hyunjin in one team and Seungmin, Changbin, Jeongin, Chaeryeong, Winter, and Jisung in another. 

Your team wins both rounds. Seungmin’s just complaining about Changbin’s good at nothing while you switch courts to play a third round (even though your team’s already won). “That’s embarrassing.” Minho jests at the opposite team, laughing when Jisung pouts instantly. 

“We’re just going to win again. Do you really wanna play another round?” Ryujin joins in on the teasing, finally creating a temporary truce with Chan as they were on the same team. 

“Mean!” Chaeryeong remarks before slumping her shoulders. “She’s right though. They’re definitely gonna win again.” 

“I hate all of you” are Seungmin’s last words before you play another round. The game goes by really quickly until Jisung accidentally spikes the ball in your direction and he’s immediately down on his knees apologizing to you. 

Everyone’s eyes instantly land on Seungmin who’s already making his way to where you’re seated on the ground. 

“I’m okay. It’s okay Ji!” Despite your verbal reassurance to everyone, he still places a fond hand on your head before he holds your chin, gently tilting your head on both sides to see if you were hit in the face. 

Jisung’s now apologizing to both you and Seungmin.

Chan jumps on the opportunity to start taunting Jisung and how Seungmin was gonna be mad at him and Jisung’s sad attempts at getting the boy to hug him will all be in vain. “Chan, you’re my roommate. I thought you were supposed to be on my side!” 

“I’m sorry, the roommate contract doesn’t cover taking your side.” 

Seungmin doesn’t let the game continue after that, but nobody really minds, happy to finally take a break from playing. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Doting Seungmin is adorable as he’s wiping the sweat from your forehead, asking you a million times if you were hurt. He tells you it’s because he can’t pay in case you've broken a bone or something. You know better than that. 

He was just being his ‘tsundere’ self. 

“Yo, you guys ready for the midterms exams soon?” Chan opens up and a loud groan immediately leaves Ryujin’s lips in response. “Don’t even remind me.” 

“I’m honestly just excited for the university festival right after.” Felix quips, hugging his knees to his chest. Winter and Hyunjin instantly agree, talking about wanting to help out with the booths. 

“I wonder which artists are gonna perform. There’s no lineup yet, right?” Changbin asks, and everyone responds with a variation of ‘no’ or ‘I don’t know’ along with a list of some artists they wished would make an appearance. 

“Ya, lovebirds!” Minho calls out to the both of you which catches your attention. “You’re going to the university festival after exams, right?” 

Your eyes light up at the mention of the festival and you eagerly nod, completely disregarding how Minho called you lovebirds. Seungmin takes note of your excitement, smiling goofily to himself before replacing it with a straight face upon facing his friends. He knows they’ll never let him live it down if they caught him with that smile on his face.

Seungmin just watches as you start talking about which booths you wished to see and which artists you were hoping to perform, and how you were wondering if there was going to be a fireworks display at night. 

Your grin is so wide and fond and excited that Seungmin can’t help but let his own smile unknowingly linger. Minho has a shit-eating grin on his face at the sight.

nine.

Hell week – the week before midterm exams – comes really quick, and soon you find yourself living through Seungmin’s coffee machine and 5 hours of sleep. 

The campus library becomes your second home as does a lot of people from numerous departments, studying until ungodly hours and sneaking in cups of hot coffee. So, after eating dinner, you walk the familiar steps towards the library with your best friend. 

Seungmin also seems to be running low on sleep, eyes drooping before you even made it to the library. However, ever the top student that he is, he fights through the exhaustion. He’s thankful for the distraction. 

Ever since you mentioned your excitement for the university festival and the fireworks display, Seungmin’s mind has been eating at him to use it as the perfect opportunity to confess to you. It’s the only thing that replays in his mind when he isn’t doing anything — all the possible outcomes to a confession and all the possible ways to confess.

So, he’s more than grateful for the distraction. 

Not so much the one in front of him right now though. You’ve been at the library for around an hour now, books and papers scattered around the table. Seungmin’s tapping his pen against his lips, elbow propped up on the wood of the table. Criminal law has long been discarded in his head, he’s read it way too many times for the past week in preparation for the exams. 

“Stop looking. You’re distracting me.” You whisper for Seungmin to pay attention, not even bothering to look up from your own book as you shut your eyes closed to try the photographic memory you clearly don’t have before flipping to the next page.

“How narcissistic of you to think I’m staring at you.” He rolls his eyes just to be annoying before his cheek falls against his fist, eyes glazing over you again. He has little shame in his unabashed staring. 

It’s how he notices your gentle shivering at the airconditioning of the library. “Did you forget to bring a jacket?”

You don’t hear him, and you don’t really have to as he’s already taking his hoodie off, dropping it on top of your book to grab your attention. “You’re shaking.” When you’re about to retort, saying he’d get cold too — he goes back to studying, placing his earphones in even though he isn’t listening to any music.

You notice it’s your favorite hoodie of his, the Dodgers gray hoodie, once you put it on. Almost immediately you’re engulfed in his warmth and his scent and you’re grateful for the jacket because your ass has been shaking for the last hour. 

Seungmin’s attempt to get back to studying falls short when he catches a glimpse of you in his jacket that’s clearly too big for you. 

His thoughts drift to the color of your eyes and the way your hair frames your face so prettily and how you look so cute with the sleeves of his jacket falling beyond where your hands are. He thinks about how it’d feel like if he went in for the first kiss, pressing his lips on yours without it being nerve-wracking. 

He imagines everything and anything in that short amount of time, his notes discarded in favor of admiring you. 

Seungmin is interrupted when you drop a copy of his perfectly written notes (from a class he took a year ago), asking him about a specific topic since you’re taking the class this year. He readjusts himself on the library seats, the ones he hates but puts up because you enjoy studying in the library so much. 

Leaning in forward, Seungmin starts explaining to you the concepts of Politics and Governance and Health Laws. He glances at you with a frown when you seem to be staring at his notes blankly, having a hard time grasping all the information at once.

“You look like you’re fighting for your life in there.”

“That’s cause I am! How am I supposed to pass this class? Can it just be over so we can be at the university fest already?” Seungmin leans across the table to flick your forehead gently.

“You’re more concerned about the university fest than passing your exams.” 

“Okay, mean.” You say to him with a frown, looking around to see if anyone’s looking before flashing him a middle finger. He rolls his eyes, pushing your notes further towards you before speaking again. “I’m not wrong though.”

He pokes you with a pen to get your attention, telling you to focus up before he’s explaining the concepts to you again. You try better to understand them now, repeating some of the things he tells you and answering his follow-up questions to make sure you really understand.

The soft smile he gives you when you answer correctly is enough motivation to perfect your exam. He looks like such a boyfriend right now. Lending you his hoodie, tutoring you on your exams, leaning in and smiling that soft smile directed at you. It takes everything in your head not to daydream of what it’d be like if he was actually yours. 

You have to remind yourself he isn’t yours. He’s just your best friend. Your stupid boyfriend material best friend. 

Similarly, Seungmin’s telling himself to get it together. He needs to stay focused on the upcoming exams and stop thinking about what it’d feel like to be yours.

ten.

It goes like this for a few more days until midterms week rolls through. And even then, you’d hold yourself in the library after an exam to study for the next. 

Sometimes you’d be joined by Winter, and sometimes Jisung and Changbin would tag along which usually resulted in you trying to muffle your laughter underneath sweater sleeves. Who knew you could sneak in 12 cups of coffee in the library before actually getting caught? 

Ever since then, Jisung’s been banned from your study sessions with Seungmin.

Tomorrow’s the last day of your exams, and you’re at Seungmin and Jeongin’s dorm to eat dinner before you head out to the library for the last time. 

Seungmin’s out to buy dinner so you’re left with Jeongin who keeps trying to pry into yours and Seungmin’s non-existent relationship. “But you’ve definitely made out before, right?” Your face grows redder and redder every second that Jeongin speaks and you hit him with their couch throw pillow to rebut. 

“We have not!”

“You’re right. Seungmin would’ve never shut up about it. But like, why not? Just get it over with and kiss!”

“We’re just best friends.”

“That’s what they all say.” Jeongin turns his full attention at you, smirking to himself before he starts making kissing noises. “Oh Minnie, kiss me already!” He purposely changes the pitch of his voice to try and imitate yours and you pretend not to feel the warmth on your cheeks.

“I’m gonna end up killing you before Seungmin does.”

He acts as if he doesn’t hear your comment (threat) and continues to tease you. “Seungminie, please fu—“

“Oh my god, shut up!” You almost jump at the poor boy upon realizing what he’s about to say next, and Seungmin arrives just in time before you can strangle the life out of his roommate.

“Am I interrupting something?” He glances at the two of you with an eyebrow raised, placing down the takeout containers on the table and motioning for you to sit so you can eat already.

“I think you might’ve just saved my life.” You send another glare at Jeongin and he raises his hands in surrender. 

Seungmin just chuckles at this, coming up to sit beside you before he’s distributing the containers to the three of you. “What did you even do that made her jump you?” 

“Everything he does makes me want to jump him.” You bark, squinting your eyes at the boy seated across from you and Seungmin.

“Woah, woah. (Name), I don’t see you like that. So eager to jump me?” You scoff loudly at his response, flicking a plastic spoon in his direction. 

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding! We both know who you really want to jump.” 

The plastic fork follows with the threat that if he doesn’t shut up, the hot soup from your noodles is gonna be next.

“Alright, both of you calm down and eat.” Almost instantly, Jeongin’s hunching over his chair, terrible posture leaned forward to start twisting the noodles around his chopsticks. Seungmin angles himself close to you so that your shoulders are brushing, leaning down and blowing on his food before he starts to eat as well.

You try and fail to hide a smile at the physical contact.

On your way to the library, you exchange reviewers to ask each other questions. It’s a good way to retain your memory on the concepts. Jeongin doesn’t seem to know any of the answers to his questions, and Seungmin makes that face exclusive to when he senses something horrible is going to happen — in this case, Jeongin’s grade on this subject.

“Don’t worry. God’s gonna give me a miracle tomorrow.”

“Did he tell you that?” You nudge Seungmin’s shoulder, laughing at their banter when Jeongin sticks his tongue out at your best friend. 

“Of course you’re gonna pass your exams tomorrow. Pre-law students are nerds. You fit right in.” Jeongin snorts which earns him a smack from his roommate. “Do you wanna get kicked out of the dorms?”

The rest of the night falls smoothly with the three of you minding your own business (Jeongin instantly gets distracted by his phone). It’s only before midnight that you find Seungmin asleep in front of you, head resting on the wooden table of the library and eyes closed peacefully. 

You glance at him and you almost feel bad you have to wake him up. Your heart flutters at the small smile gracing his lips, snapping a quick photo so you can go back to this moment forever.

You brush his skin gently, and a smile appears on his face. It’s soft, reserved, but it feels like everything to you. Something in the way he smiled at your touch has you feeling something you can’t quite identify. It makes your heart hurt in s good way.

“Minnie, wake up.” Your voice breaks him out of his nap. He glances up, sleep still evident in his eyes. Then, his dreamy smile returns. 

“Sorry.” You apologize to the boy while he moves to tidy up his things. He must’ve fallen asleep while waiting for you to finish studying. 

“Don’t apologize.” There’s that sincere, intense look in his eyes that makes sure to meet your gaze, so you know he’s being serious, yet his words are gently spoken. He doesn’t want you to feel bad. It was his choice to wait for you.

“Go straight to sleep when you get back, okay? I know you love pulling allnighters, but it’s not good for you.” 

On normal circumstances, he’d protest, telling you that he was still able to get a good 4 hours of sleep, but the genuine concern swimming in your eyes has him sealing his mouth shut and nodding instead.

“Alright.”

Seungmin finds he’d do anything for you.

eleven.

After you finish your last test, you get a text from Seungmin telling you to come to JYP Diner. 

He explains that the boys wanted to eat together after completing the midterm exams, and that you should try inviting Ryujin and Winter as well (Chaeryeong was already there as she shared her last exam schedule with Minho).

You reply that Winter had retired for the day, and that Ryujin still had an exam later this afternoon. He tells you to hurry up and get your ass to the diner.

As soon as you open the door, Seungmin’s eyes land on you and the annoyed look on his face melts into a fond smile. He’s quick to get up, greeting you by the door before wrapping his arm around your shoulder to draw you to where they were seated. 

The inside of the diner is warm and pleasant. You’re thankful for the differing scenery of the calm diner compared to the stress of your university.

The boys and Chaeryeong wave at you when you make it to the table, and you fall on the empty seat right next to your best friend. 

“Oh, (name). You should’ve heard him when you were still on your way here.” Minho quips, grin growing when Seungmin kicks him from under the table.

“Why’s (name) taking so long?” 

“Has (name) texted you guys?”

The rest of the boys join in, overexaggerating their imitation of Seungmin’s words from earlier. Barely concealed laughters echo around your booth when your best friend shoots them a friendly show of his middle finger before he shushes them, asking you what you wanted to eat as everyone else had already ordered. 

“Hey, where’s Felix?” You only now notice the boy’s absence, and Hyunjin snorts in response. 

“Immediately fell asleep after his Advanced Calculus exam. He was actually in tears while studying for it last night.” 

“Just like Jeongin then.” Seungmin earns a rather harsh nudge from Jeongin. “That was supposed to be a secret!” 

There’s a gentle smile eating at your lips once your food arrives and your sleep-deprived friends start gobbling up the food as if they were sentenced to life and this was their last meal. There’s always that unidentifiable feeling of comfort when you’re with them, and you’re grateful to have found such friends. 

“What’s wrong?” Seungmin asks you quietly, noticing that you haven't started eating yet. Humming, you shake your head with the same small smile on your face. 

“It’s nothing.” 

Your after-exam celebration is continued over teasing and conversations about the university festival, and one by one, everyone starts excusing themselves to go back home. As usual, Seungmin walks you home.

He doesn’t let you walk into your building immediately upon arrival, asking you to wait for a moment. You comply, tilting your head with an amused smile on your face. 

He’s rummaging through his bag now, looking for something before he pulls out two… tickets? He shoves one in your direction and it takes you a while to realize it’s a ticket to the university festival concert. They weren’t even selling yet, and when they did, it sold out pretty fast.

“How did you…?”

“Chan’s part of the student organizers.” 

You immediately jump to coddle the boy in your arms, squeezing his rather larger body and pressing your cheek on his chest as you repeatedly say ‘thank you’. Your eyes are squeezed shut from beaming too much and your smile’s a little crooked from how genuine it comes out. 

Seungmin can’t properly tell you that it’s no problem. He finds his words jumbled up because the sight he’s subjected to is so… beautiful. He’s blushing and somehow it’s making you blush too. 

There’s something tucked beneath your smile, a certain kind of shyness in the way your eyes crinkle. It’s beautiful, as it always has been, but there was something about it that had Seungmin staring at your lips and back at your eyes. It’s like he’s being pulled in, and he’s unaware that he’s slowly and slowly minimizing the gap between you. 

Just when he’s about to bite the bullet, an unknown voice startles him.

“Is that the little menace?” 

Fucking hell.

Karen’s marching her way down the steps to where Seungmin’s standing, and you know it’s time he goes before Karen catches up to the boy. 

“I guess I’ll see you later.” You laugh, but there’s that hint of shyness again, of being flustered as you wave at him. And then, you turn around to head inside your building.

Seungmin bolts back to his dorms, and he spends the rest of the afternoon thinking about what could’ve happened if goddamn Crazy Karen would’ve just kept her mouth shut. 

twelve.

The university festival comes really fast, and you’re more than excited to spend it with your friends.

“Give me one second.” Chaeryeong’s gathering products from her desk and makeup bag, gathering them up on the floor and telling you to sit still as she rummages through her multiple tubes and brushes. 

She maneuvers your head so you’re facing her before she slathers something on her palms, transferring the product to your face and rubbing it gently on your skin. A thin layer of concealer follows before she’s brushing powder on your face. 

Earlier, you had asked if she could do your makeup for you and she excitedly replied with a ‘yes’ and a ‘come over right away’. 

It’s how you find multiple brushes being dabbed on your face, hues of pink on your cheeks and a little on your nose before she’s patting a few glitters on the lids of your eyes. She lets you put on the mascara yourself so she doesn’t accidentally poke you with the wand (like she did the last time she did your makeup).

Then she’s on the search for the perfect shade of lipstick. “Let’s just put a little. Seungmin’s just gonna wipe it all off anyway when you two eventually kiss tonight.” 

“Oh my god, Ryeong.” 

“What! I’m not wrong.” She’s giggling as she tells you to part your lips slightly, applying the soft pink shade on your lips. “You look so pretty.” She coos more to herself, proud of her creation before she’s pinching your cheeks lightly. 

She shoves a mirror to your face so you can reap the results of her hard work. She was right.

Chaeryeong did a wonderful job highlighting your natural features and letting the makeup work naturally on your face. You smile brightly, giving her a quick hug and showering her in ‘thank you’s. 

“Okay, now get changed. Go, go! We’re gonna be late.” 

When you step out, you’re met with the sight of Chaeryeong in a cute, sleeveless dress, leather jacket and fishnets. She looks stunning as she playfully turns around to show off her whole fit. “Damn, one chance?”

“Yeah, right. One chance with Seungmin, you mean.” 

“Actually, I’d like to take a million chances with Seungmin.” She cracks into a fit of giggles. “You’re so down horrendous. Look, with the way you look, I’m sensing the first chance will be taken tonight.” 

You give yourself a final do-over with Chaeryeong’s words, looking at yourself in the mirror. You’re wearing some loose slacks and a black tube top with a cream colored cardigan. For someone who didn’t have enough time to consult Winter and her amazing fashion sense, you’d say you did pretty well at dressing yourself prettily. 

“Okay, okay. Come here, let me put lip gloss on you. I think some of the boys are here already.” You comply, letting her fix up some lip gloss on you before applying some on herself.

“They’re picking us up?”

“Yup. Minho, Jeongin, and Seungmin, I think?”

“Seungmin?” You thought you’d have more time to gather yourself and your feelings on the walk to the big field where all the booths were set up. 

“Yeah, their dorm is nearest to mine. Come on.” 

When you and Chaeryeong step out of her building, the boys are dramatically whistling and clapping their hands. Only when you’re near them do they spill their genuine compliments at the way you two look. 

Seungmin’s knee-jerking reaction at seeing you so prettily dressed-up is to just stare at you unabashedly. There’s so much he wants to say, but his eyes remain glued open and his mouth shut. 

“Yah, stop staring.” Minho smacks the back of Seungmin’s head and he’s stuttering out for something to say. He wants to tell you that you look beautiful, wants to say something charming to woo you over but he’s left with his mouth parted. 

You just laugh at their exchange, taking your spot next to Seungmin as the five of you start walking to the big field. Seungmin looks so painfully attractive with his white shirt and jeans and converse and varsity jacket. He looks like the epitome of a boyfriend – so painfully dashing but also very painfully out of your league. 

Meanwhile, Seungmin’s still kicking himself over for not being able to tell you how beautiful he thinks you look. He’s just hoping he’s presented with another opportunity to tell you – and he hopes by then, he’ll have enough courage to say it. 

Earlier today, Jeongin and Minho gave him quite the heart-to-heart talk and convinced him to confess his feelings tonight. Besides, as they said, it was the perfect opportunity.

“You like her. You have for like a few years now. Stop being a pussy and tell her.” Minho’s words are rather straightforward. Jeongin groans before punching his arm. 

Minho grabs at his arm, shrugging his shoulders before continuing to snack on the chips he had stolen. 

“I’m not telling her.” Seungmin mutters to the boys, dejected. “I’m gonna ruin our friendship.”

“How sure are you?” Minho is stubborn as he continues to push Seungmin. “I’m not. But I don’t want to know.”

This time, Jeongin interjects. “Are you sure you don’t want to know? How would you live with yourself if she liked you all along and you let go of that chance so easily?” 

“I won’t.”

“Exactly. No one lives a happy life entirely within their comfort zone. If you like her so much then she’s worth dragging yourself out of that zone.” Seungmin stiffens at his roommate’s words, mind racing to truly think about what he’s saying. 

Since when did Jeongin get so wise? 

As if Minho was thinking the same thing, he narrows his eyes before staring at the youngest of the group. “You got something you wanna share with the class? How come you know so much about asking someone out?”

“The two of you are just stupid. Anyways, just do it.” 

The waters Jeongin’s treading on are dangerous, but well worth it if it meant Seungmin’s genuine happiness. He thinks it’s time Seungmin ripped off the poor excuse of a bandaid he taped around his heart and deemed all good now.

“Yeah, or I’ll do it myself.” Minho throws him a sly grin, voice overflowing with mischief. 

“Absolutely not.” Seungmin shakes his head in protest, eyes gaping in horror. He immediately grabs the bag of chips from Minho’s lap which the boy immediately tries to grab back. “What’re you gonna do to stop me?”

“Tell Chaeryeong how you wanted her to be your dance partner soooo bad with some screenshots of your messages to me.” Minho should’ve known better than to challenge the one boy that held multiple threats towards each one of them. 

His argument was unfair because he and Jeongin were the only people he told that to. Minho’s mood darkens, pulling back the bag of chips with force and resigning from his evil plans of telling you how Seungmin feels about you. 

Minho valued his pride more than anything else.

“Look, I’ll do it myself.” Seungmin huffs, rubbing the back of his neck and falling back on his bed to stare at the ceiling. “I think.”

Then, Minho’s phone buzzes from right next to him.

“The girls are almost ready. Let’s start walking.”

thirteen.

When the five of you arrive, most of your friends are already there.

Chan’s the first one that sees you. 

“Finally.” He greets you and Chaeryeong with a big hug before bumping his fists with the boys. What is it with men and their fist bumps? 

Before you can mingle with the rest of the group, Chan leans in discreetly (or at least, as discreet as he could) and whispers to the boys. “Watch out if you’re wearing shoes. Ryujin’s been messing with everyone’s shoelaces the moment we got here.”

You laugh at his warning. Ryujin’s actually such a menace. 

“That sounds just about right.” You pat him in the back before going in to give Ryujin a hug. Her face immediately lights up when she sees you and Chaeryeong, wrapping an arm around the both of you as she starts to move away from the boys.

“Ryujin has more rizz than you.” 

“I’m not talking to someone who cried while studying Advanced Calculus.”

“Noted.” Felix instantly shuts up, moving to talk about another topic with Hyunjin who's laughing his ass off at Seungmin’s response at the poor boy.

“We’re just waiting on Changbin, Winter, and… Jisung?” 

Chan’s head counting the group, pointing at each person and mentally noting down the numbers, making sure that no one was missing. You remember the time Felix had accidentally joined in with Beomgyu’s friend group when he thought he was following Seungmin’s feet. Chan almost lost his mind.

The timing couldn’t be more perfect when they show up from a distance. Jisung seems to be talking Winter’s ear off and Changbin’s trying to pull him back. Winter looks a bit overstimulated with his level of energy, but divulges in the conversation anyway. Jisung appreciates it. You smile at how easy your friends got on with Seungmin’s friends. 

Felix excitedly points at the arcade booths lining up, some shooting games, prize wheels, virtual reality. Everyone else reciprocates the excitement, immediately running up to the booths and getting in line. Meanwhile, Jeongin’s dragging Minho at the claw machine. He’s always been notorious for having luck when it came to the claw machine games, and Jeongin was taking his chances the moment he found a bread plushie in the glass case. 

“Get it yourself.”

“Chaeryeong!” 

Minho shuts him up with a bread plushie he immediately wins for Jeongin. The youngest boy happily holds his prize and keeps his mouth shut. 

Chan easily wins Ryujin whatever she asks for in exchange for her leaving his shoelaces alone. Ryujin is easily bribed when it comes to food and free prizes and she knows Chan would probably win most of the games she wanted. Jisung and Changbin were comparing their strengths and boasting about their muscles by the punching machine, and Chaeryeong’s dominating the shooting games with Winter.

“Oh my god, the Sunshine Harvest has a booth. I’ll be back.” Before anyone from the group can accompany you, you’re running towards the direction of the booth. Seungmin understands your rush. Their mango shakes were probably on the way to selling out fast if you didn’t get there sooner. 

When you don’t return in the next 20 minutes, Seungmin is sweating frantically. He knows you can handle yourself, but there was now a chock full of new people who had just arrived and were littering the area. It’s when you don’t pick up his calls that tips him over. 

“I’m gonna go look for (name).” Chan nods understandingly, and Seungmin disappears in a flash. He thanks his parents for his height at this very moment, scanning through the groups of people and excusing himself so he can navigate towards the Sunshine Harvest booth. 

His heart drops to his stomach when he doesn’t see you there. But just when he’s about to panic some more, he spots someone hunched over to the very far left, away from the crowd, discarded mango shake container to the side. He practically leaps out of the bench he’s standing on, jogging in your direction. 

He doesn’t have the heart to scold you when he finds you playing with Mushroom.

“(Name).” You jump back at the sudden voice, but instantly smile upon realizing it’s just Seungmin. You finally say goodbye to the cat, grabbing your empty bottle before standing up. “Sorry, did I take too long?” 

“No, it’s okay.” You just don’t have to know how frantic he was while he was looking everywhere for you. 

On the way back to your friends, you don’t realize his hand is glued to the small of your waist so he doesn’t lose you again. 

When the group decides to split up, Minho and Jeongin are instantly sending Seungmin stupid dirty looks with their stupid wiggling eyebrows. He knows if he doesn’t confess tonight, Minho might actually do it for him.

The rest of the afternoon goes by so fast. You applaud the university and the student body for organizing the fest. The afternoon transitions to night so smoothly, you don’t even realize the amount of time that passed by. 

The bright lights and the loud music is so exhilarating, and it makes you feel so alive — the most alive you’ve felt in the week. There are times when you dance along to the music, exaggerating your movements and Seungmin laughs with his head rolled back and you’d embarrass yourself over and over to keep hearing him laugh.

Seungmin takes the weight off your chest so easily. All he does is pat your head and squeeze your cheeks and accompany you wherever you wish to go and suddenly, you feel lighter. Happier. And it is so, so loud. Everyone around you is talking, crowded together but you can’t hear them. All you can focus on is the feeling of his hand in yours to make sure he doesn’t lose you in the crowd and the way it fits perfectly. Like his hand was meant to be crafted to hold yours.

It’s how you continue to feel when you find yourselves amongst the crowd of the concert, pretending to know the lyrics of the songs playing, screaming at each other when you actually recognize the song. Everything you do with him is something you wish you could capture in a photo.

He’s singing, and you look at him with a silent glee in your eyes, hoping to touch the same greatness that Kim Seungmin always held and hoping to burn the memory of his singing and his soft eyes and his hand in yours. You almost feel like flying. 

His eyes are warm when you look at them, golden brown peeking down at you with fondness. You’ve always loved his eyes the most. It has always been his most obvious tell — of the things they feel and the things they’ve made you feel when he stared at you a little longer than normal.

Your lips quirk up in a smile, and you find yourself singing along to the songs with him. You were never the greatest singer, but with him, you felt like loveliest melodies and tunes flow out of you comfortably.

This time, Seungmin allows himself a quick glance at you from his peripheral vision, admiring your naturally dusted cheeks and your beaming eyes and your messed up hair from the wind and from running around all night. How could you stand there and sing without a care in the world and smile and look so, so beautiful.

And there are many things Seungmin considers to be beautiful. He loves the sunrise and the sunsets and the way the sky blends into a perfect mix of colors along the horizon before the moon chases the sun away. He loves the flowers and the trees on his way to his classes and the wind’s breeze wrapping you in a cold blanket. He loves the stars and their relentless twinkling and how they coat the night sky, making sure the moon is never lonely. But above all, he loves you and your smile and the way you chew on your lips when you think and how you make him feel like he can touch the sky. 

Seungmin finds he’d sacrifice the sunset and sunrise and the twinkling stars if it meant he could call you and all of you, his. 

He doesn’t say anything when he drops his varsity jacket on your shoulders and he doesn’t meet your eyes when you look up at him to thank him.

You make Seungmin trip over his own words. All tangled in adoration and longing. Between all the galaxies and universes, Seungmin concludes he’s lucky to have landed under the same stars as you. 

With all this in mind, Seungmin’s sure he’s upgraded way beyond the like. He’s in love with you — in the hopeless, clumsy, exhilarating kind of way. And he finds that loving you is something he wants to experience no matter the outcome. 

If he was told you’d never feel the same and if he’d still take the chance to fall in love with you, he’d say yes. It’s a yes again and again and again. Always a yes. He’d prefer the unrequited over never knowing how it feels to love you and every part of you. 

“(Name)?”

Despite the loudness of the music and the fireworks and the people around you, you find Seungmin’s voice cut through them all. 

Looking up at him, you find him looking at you in a way he never has done before. In the way he’s done so many times when you weren’t looking. There’s something swirling in his eyes, some kind of longing and desire. 

I've been alone for too long

You've been there all along

The distance between you is closing. Seungmin’s heart is racing when he peels his hand from yours in favor of cradling your cheek gently, tracing along your jaw and soaking in every detail about your face.

Ethereal love

I will choose you now and everyday

Seungmin’s putting everything on the line, stepping into the unknown, heartbeat pounding in his ears. There’s still time for you to pull away, to run away from the certainty he feels about you, to shatter him into a million pieces. 

He hopes you won’t. 

His eyes flutter shut, but when he opens them again, you’re already gone.

fourteen.

It’s the first time Seungmin doesn’t blow up your notifications. 

Jeongin confiscates his phone when he comes home to Seungmin downing a bottle of vodka. He’s immediately concerned for his roommate’s wellbeing and what could’ve led to Seungmin’s sudden want to get drunk. 

“Hey, what happened?” He sits on the ground to accompany Seungmin, grabbing the bottle when he sees that it’s almost empty. 

“Let me sulk properly.” Then, he’s grabbing the bottle back from Jeongin, chugging down the remains before harshly setting it down on the ground. A sharp sigh leaves his throat before he leans in to rest his head on Jeongin’s shoulder. And he sits there and lets him.

Jeongin lets him because Seungmin needed someone right now. “I fucked up, Innie.” 

It’s the most fragile Jeongin’s ever heard from his roommate and he takes Seungmin’s hand to let him know that he’s listening. “Tried to kiss (name). I ruined everything.” 

Jeongin’s face twists in confusion, heart rising in his own throat. He knows you like Seungmin back. And if Seungmin tried to kiss you, he would’ve thought the result of that would be a very happy phone call from his roommate – not him drinking until he forgets.

Seungmin feels pathetic, and Jeongin swears to get to the bottom of things. With sleepy fucked up eyes, Seungmin looks up at the boy, chin tilted up and lips quivering. “Do you think she’ll forgive me?”

“I know she will. Come here.” Seungmin bows his head faintly, head falling on Jeongin’s chest as he allows himself to be hugged – allows himself to be vulnerable and to feel because it’s something that doesn’t need to be taught, but needs to be remembered over and over again. 

Jeongin wraps his arms around the boy. Seungmin attempts to swat his arms away, the way he’s used to, but he thinks it feels quite nice to be hugged. 

He had downed the pain and was begging for the temporary buzz to kick in all while his fingers are clenched on the fabric of Jeongin’s shirt and his tears are leaving a wet spot where his face is pressed against.

There’s a burn in his heart, just under his chest and it’s squeezing so tightly. When he closes his eyes, all he sees is you and he cries a little more. Is this what it felt like to have someone to lose?

Even if he knows you won’t let his feelings get in between your friendship, the unrequitedness of the feelings Seungmin has held for years is dawning on him and it is so, so painful. 

Jeongin shoots you a quick text to meet him tomorrow. 

fifteen.

You wake up to a text from Jeongin which is how you know you’ve truly fucked up now.

You didn’t mean for it to happen, and you feel horrendous. 

You’re honestly not even sure how it happened. What a grief it is that your memory works the way they do and how you don’t remember how it felt to have his face so close to yours. It deprives you of the memory of his eyes and his lips, and they let go of the feeling of his hand in yours while you watched the fireworks. 

The human brain is beautiful, but how dare it cost the sound of his voice and the feeling of his hands cradling your face. 

In hindsight, you know you shouldn’t have run away. But you were afraid. You were afraid it was just a heat of the moment thing and Seungmin didn’t actually want to kiss you. Were you the one that came onto him? Did you initiate the kiss? 

Everything had felt so right before the fear settled in. You’ve been left with questions that were never answered before, all the voices in your head you’ve shut out for so long screaming at you. Was this how it felt to have someone to lose? 

You bury your face in your hands in frustration. Did you ruin years of friendship because you wanted to know how his lips felt like on yours? 

You’re not sure what you’re thinking when you walk towards where Jeongin tells you to meet up, but you do know you’re immediately regretting it. Especially when you see a familiar figure walking towards where you’re standing. 

“I – I have to go.” You blurt out the moment you see him. “I’m sorry. I have to.. I need to be somewhere.” You feel selfish – walking away from him because you’re not ready to hear his rejection.

“Wait, (name). Let me explain myself.”

You don’t want to hear it. You don’t want to hear the words you’d been dreading to hear. 

Backed up by your one-sided feelings, you turn yourself around and your fingers tighten around the sleeves of the jacket you’re wearing, and you shake your head as you try to quicken your pace so you can get out of there as soon as you can.

“I’ve been in love with you since we were eighteen.” 

His sudden confession stops you in your tracks. 

You find it physically impossible to turn around and look at him. Trembling lips are so easy to discern, especially on Seungmin. 

“(Name), please… please look at me.” You will yourself to look at him, and when you brave eye contact, you notice his lips trembling in trial of a smile. But it’s sad, it’s so sad and his lips start to quiver. It’s difficult to ignore the crack in his whispers and the pain in his transparent eyes. 

“I feel like I’m losing you.” The words taste bitter on his tongue. He knows exactly why. 

They’re words he never thought he’d ever utter in his lifetime, and now that he’s saying them, the reality is hitting him much harder. 

“Did I do something wrong? Was it because I tried to kiss you?” Seungmin’s having difficulty speaking, especially with the lump in his throat and the tears threatening to spill from his eyes. He hasn’t cried in such a long time. “I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.” 

He sounds ashamed, and the break in his voice does nothing to disguise his guilt. 

You hate that. You hate that you made Seungmin feel this way over one big misunderstanding. His confession repeats in your head over and over and you feel the buildup of bile in your stomach when you realize you’ve hurt Seungmin.

Your mouth dries. There’s so much you want to tell him, but you find no words escape your throat. It feels like there are fingers being shoved down your throat. 

Before you can push down the nausea, Seungmin breaks eye contact. His heart is beating incredibly fast and he thinks he’s fucked up with you further by confessing his repressed emotions – confessing his feelings he was so practiced in hiding. 

A spell of dizziness sends Seungmin tumbling backwards, heart racing and palms sweating. He looks at you, studying your expression, and the silence feels like it goes on for too long and he thinks he’s made a mistake. 

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

His sorry feels a lot like he’s saying goodbye. 

Seungmin disappears in the blink of an eye.

sixteen.

It’s the first time in a long time that you’re the one blowing up his notifications.

He doesn’t reply to your texts. Granted it’s 3AM and the poor boy is probably asleep.

You’ve been tossing and turning for the past few hours, unable to catch even a wink of sleep with the amount of thoughts racing in your mind. The image of Seungmin, of his red eyes, of his tears, emerges from the night around you. It stubbornly laments, refusing you any form of peace. You deserve it.

Overwhelming sadness stunned you, shadowing over Seungmin’s confession. You don’t allow his words to linger. It’s incredibly unfair to feel hope when Seungmin’s out there feeling his most hopeless. 

You’re about to turn again, forcing your eyes shut when the familiar ringtone of Facetime echoes from your phone. Almost immediately, you’re leaping off your bed, grabbing your phone from the nightstand.

Oh.

It’s Winter.

“Alright, what’s wrong?” You stare at her through the screen of your phone, and it looks like she’s making herself comfortable. She’s seated on her lazy boy chair, blankets bunched up around her shoulders and a mug of something steaming by her side. 

“What?”

“I was gonna walk over to your building, but it’s 3am and I am not about to die just so I can come over and hug you. I’ll do that tomorrow.”

Your heart melts at Winter’s observance. She notices, even if it’s the most minuscule little thing. Winter always notices, and unlike the insincerity pouring from other people when they say they’re only one call away, Winter actually is. She’s one call, one text, one anything away.

“Come on, talk to me.” So you do. You tell her everything from the start. The very start.

You tell her that from the moment you met Seungmin, your mind had started crafting a romance story, even if you didn’t know it yet. He was working part-time at a coffee shop, and you’re not exactly sure how it happened, but you remember the cold sensation of coffee all over you and a promise to make it up to you. When he introduced himself, he shook your hand. 

His hand felt like warm cookies dipped in milk. 

And you tell her ever since then, you spent almost every day getting to know Seungmin and his love for the sunrise and the sunset and how passionate he is about singing but rarely ever does it in front of people and how he is repulsed by physical touch but never really minds when it’s with you. He’s still the same boy you met in that coffee shop, albeit he walks more confidently now. He grew into his features and had a broader back now, but he was still the same boy whose hand you held on the way to his dentist appointment. He was still the Kim Seungmin who smiled at you so brightly when he got his braces removed, and continued to smile at you today.

It’s been a long way since that coffee shop, but he’s remained to be the one true constant in your life. You’re convinced you were always destined to meet him. You reason it’s because you’d be a completely different person now if it wasn’t for him. If you hadn’t met at that coffee shop, you’re convinced Whoever Is Above would’ve found a way for you to meet over and over and over again. 

Everything carries you to him, as if everything that exists were little boats that sailed directly to him — to where he was waiting. To where he’s still waiting.

And then you tell her about the night of the festival. How you almost kissed him, and how you regret every second after for not just pressing your lips on his. You tell her of his confession, and how you love him tenfold, even before you knew what love was. 

Loving Seungmin was the easiest thing you’ve ever had to do. It was falling in love with his eyes and the sound of his laughter and the little things he reserves for you and for your eyes only. 

“Why’d you run away?” It was a valid question. You don’t even know yourself. 

“I guess I was just scared.” You hesitate with your answer, putting your arms around you and staring at nothing in particular. 

“He loves you.” 

“I didn’t know.”

And in hindsight, maybe you should’ve. When you look back for a sign that Seungmin’s loved you all along, you end up finding it interwoven in his teasing. He left so many signs, and you didn’t see a single one. 

There was love in his long, overbearing messages — telling you to eat, asking you about your day, scolding you for worrying him. There was love in his phone calls, in keeping you company in whatever you did because he knows you don’t like the silence very much. The quiet left you alone in your head, and you despised feeling lonely. Love echoed in your laughter and reflected in your smiles even if your jokes weren’t funny. There was love, even in the tiktoks he sent you with the small comment of “us”. It was in the dinners you shared and in the absence of words because he just understood. 

Maybe that’s what love is. Maybe this is what Kim Seungmin’s heart feels like. His love was never made up of grand gestures, it was always in the little things that told you his life is so intertwined with yours.

There was always love all along. 

There still is. 

“He just knows me so well, I thought he could never see me romantically after getting to know all my bad sides.”

“Being known is being loved.” Winter’s words linger in your head as you play a flashback of your years with Seungmin, replaying all the scenes. 

Being known is being loved.

Everything hits you all at once. When he got you that mango shake you loved so much and complained about because it sells out so fast. When you saw the campus dogs and cats that one night, and how he remembered what you said. When he knows you’re deep in thought just because you were chewing at your lips. When he recalls the gift you got a few Christmases ago because it made you so happy. When he lets you borrow the hoodies you mentioned were your favorite. When he memorizes your coffee order by heart.

Love never needed to have the tsunamis and the thunderstorms. Love is just… love. It’s just the quietness, the stillness, the calm. Sometimes, it doesn’t have to feel like a million lightning strikes. It just has to feel like finally letting out that one breath you’ve been holding on for too long.

Being known is being loved. 

“I have to talk to him.”

“I know.”

“I love him.”

“I know.”

“And he loves me.”

“He loves you.”

seventeen.

It isn’t even 8am when you’re pacing back and forth in front of his dorms. 

You know Seungmin usually wakes up early, but you’re unsure of his sleeping patterns as of recently. You haven’t been given the privilege to know, so you text Jeongin. 

Your fingers drum nervously on the side of your thighs, feet shuffling as you stare at their gate, thinking that any moment, he could walk out. 

Last night, you practiced will-induced self conversations over how you were going to approach Seungmin today. You concluded it best not to practice anything you wanted to tell him. You owed him your honesty and a genuine, sincere undertone in your words and apology.

In all honesty, the moment you had arrived within the vicinity of their dorms, you had contemplated whether you should just continue right. Maybe you could just order an iced Americano at a cafe to remind you of Seungmin. Confrontation never came easy to you. But the thought of being an absentee in his life forever scared you and willed you to take the few steps forward towards the entrance of their dorms. 

However, it’s been a good ten minutes since you arrived, and those ten minutes are not the most kind when you’re feeling nervous and about to throw up. It really leaves a lot of room for thinking, and right now it’s thinking that Seungmin wants absolutely nothing to do with you anymore because he thought you were so repulsed by the idea of him loving you and kissing you (even though you felt quite the opposite).

Just when you were about to take a step backward and contemplate the rest of your life, Jeongin walks out of the building pulling a still very sleepy and very disoriented Seungmin behind him.

“Okay, kiss and make up.” Jeongin clasps his hands together before pointing a threatening finger at you. “Don’t mess this up again.” And then he’s on his way back to the inside of their dorm building (peeking through their windows from time to time).

The first thing you discern is his incredibly puffy eyes. From sleeping or crying? You don’t know. And then it’s his pathetic attempt to smile even though he doesn’t feel like it. Seeing him like this, because of you, makes you want to fall on your knees and weep. 

Your eyes trail to the rest of him – his messy hair, his slumped shoulders, his slightly shaking hands. The instinct to hold it is strong, you know it always manages to calm him down. But you don’t. 

“(Name).” His voice sounds thick and heavy, looking at your eyes for a second before looking back down on the pavement. You recognize the pitch of his voice. He was sad and unsure. 

You take a few steps forward, letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when he meets your eyes again. It has the same look the day he confessed to you. The same tilting of his head ever so slightly, albeit a little more tired and a little less hopeful. His eyes look like they’re filled with quiet thoughts, looking at you gently even though you had shattered them. 

Seungmin, for the first time in a long time, looks regretful.

“Seungmin, I wanted to… I… I’m sorry.” He simply nods his head, sucking in a shark breath as he thinks this was it. This was the rejection he’d been dreading to hear.

“It’s okay.” He murmurs, your apology threatening to send a new wave of tears in his eyes. “I shouldn’t have said what I said especially when I know you don’t feel the same.”

“Wait, what? No… no. Seungmin, that’s not it.”

There’s a long pause before you speak again. 

“I just… dd you really mean it? What you said yesterday?”

Seungmin cringes at himself, but the red blossoming on his cheeks and the way his features soften when he remembers his words give him away. With a defeated sigh, he runs a hand through his hair.

“Yes.” He admits, an unknown feeling swelling in the pit of his stomach.

That’s all you needed to hear. 

Placing your palms on each side of his face, you pull him towards you in what you thought would be a romantic show of your feelings.

Instead, you underestimate his height and your lips crash into his nose instead. Seungmin stiffens in surprise, at the sudden proximity of your face to his and the accidental kiss you pressed on his nose, and then he laughs. 

Seungmin laughs in the hopeless, clumsy, breathless, exhilarating kind of laugh that sends your cheeks flushing and your heart fluttering because you’ve missed that laugh so much.

He was never sure he acted right that night, that he wasn’t being selfish. But with your palms in his cheeks and your eyes reciprocating the same love all along, he knows he did the right thing. So, with a gentle sigh of relief, he tilts his head and presses his lips against yours. 

Seungmin feels like he can finally breathe again. He kisses you with every love and affection he’s kept hidden for years and years.

You were venturing into the void of the unknown again, kissing your best friend, but it feels safe. There wasn’t that fear of the uncharted. There was only comfort as it always has been with him. The weight of happiness is so overwhelming, and Seungmin thinks there’s nothing more beautiful than kissing you after years of longing.

When the both of you pull away, the feeling of his arms around your waist and his forehead pressed against yours and the fond look on his face sends you toppling over. This was the image of your dreams.

He mirrors the soft smile on your face, hand moving to trace your face and your jaw before placing another kiss on your nose, and your cheek, and the corner of your lips. Your skin tingles at the way his lips and his warm breath tickles you, and your heart skips a bit when you realize you don’t mind feeling this every day for the rest of your life. 

“Can I hear you say it?” He doesn’t need to say it for you to understand.

“I love you.” 

Seungmin feels wholeheartedly content, heart bursting and ears burning red at hearing you utter those three words he’s dreamt about.

“I’ve loved you since you begged me to come with you to your dentist appointment.” 

And then he laughs again, pressing his pointer finger on your forehead with a slight betrayal in his eyes.

“You’re telling me I could’ve kissed you for years now?” He speaks in exaggeration, and you know he’s truly thinking about it.

“You have all the time in the world now.”

“You know what? I like the sound of that.” He moves his hands from your face in favor of wrapping them around your waist – pulling you in the type of hug where you can completely relax against him and melt into his familiar intimacy. The one that’s been there all along, although a little held back. 

You don’t know what’s next. With the vastness and unpredictability of the earth you stand on, you don’t know what follows. The busy morning highway is starting to fill your ears, and the sound of lives starting echos from afar. Somewhere in the distance, someone’s phone rings and there’s a sound of laughing and running from students alike. 

You find that in the chorus of laughter and honking horns and ringtones, the world is telling you that you don’t have to know what’s next. All you need to know is the inhale and exhale and the quietness that Seungmin’s heart offers. 

He’ll be here for a long time, continuing to know and know and know and love you.

eighteen.

8:24am

jeongin: FUCKING FINALLY

minho: ????

chan: language

8:25am

jeongin: (sent a picture)

hyunjin: oh my god????

changbin: our seungmin’s a big boy now

jisung: wdym i wont have to hear seungmin’s mopy ass anymore

chaeryeong: ^^ same with yn :(( but also so happy lol

8:26am

ryujin: EVERYONE CHEERED

jeongin: everyone say thank you jeongin

winter: u mean thank u winter???

hyunjin: felix is crying again

chan: WHY

felix: love is beautiful

changbin: me and who

note. hi hi thank u for making it to the very end of my first ever stray kids fic. i hope you ended up enjoying the ride ^_^ lmk what u thought and who i should write for next!

[14thcommander]

seashore | hange zöe x reader

summary: a rainy day at the beach with hange. the shitty weather somehow leads to confessions of love. (idiots in love, friends to lovers, not beta read, a shit ton of symbolism, tooth rotting fluff)

i suggest listening to the song do you think I’m pretty by kingfisher

wc: 1.5k

The wind is gentle when it blows against your face — light, careful like a mother’s touch.

It brings the smell of cigarettes, the one Hange is currently smoking. They attempt to point it in the opposite direction, in order to avoid its terrible scent reaching you. It fails, but it’s the intention that counts something.

The beach is empty — well, mostly. There is a group of teenagers that are close enough to be seen, but too far to be heard. The sound of waves is the only thing you hear.

The ocean is a green, grayish color — the line that separates it from the sky, in the horizon, is blurred.

It is a chill day, one you consider the perfect atmosphere to go to the beach. Hange knows you like gray, moody days — the ones in which the sky looks like a warm, soapy bath. You were never a fan of sunlight anyway. Perhaps that’s why you admire Hange so much.

“Too bad Levi and Erwin are missing this sunny, hot day at the beach. Bet they’re sad just thinking about it.” Hange’s words are filled with irony, waiting for a reaction. The sarcasm that drips from their tone doesn’t go unnoticed by you.

The two of you are friends — well, sort of. You are part of the same friend group, consistently hanging out. Over time, you grew closer: what was supposed to be a collective hangout, turned into just you. It feels complicated these days.

“Oh, fuck off. You’re the one who agreed to come with me.” You offer them a middle finger, to which they throw their hands up in surrender.

The both of you are sitting on an old beach towel you brought, the fabric is wrinkled from being shoved on the bottom of your bag. None of you are dressed appropriately for the beach: Hange is wearing a thick flannel, protecting them from the chill breeze. You are wearing a beat down pair of converse, the ones you have since high school. Somehow, you match with each other. You try not to think too much of it.

“Call me crazy if you want, I wouldn’t let my friend go to this mopey beach all alone. I’m loyal like that.”

And that’s why you are at the beach, with Hange and no one else. Levi and Erwin were supposed to come along, however you are glad something came up for them. Nothing would be more awkward than ending up on a double date with your sort-of-friend.

The word friend tastes bitter on your throat, poisoning your lungs like Hange’s cigarette.

“You’re the only person I know that thinks this is appropriate beach weather.” They say, breaking the lack of dialogue between you for the past minute or so. Not that you’re counting or anything like that, of course. “Are you a vampire or something?”

It earns them a chuckle from you, almost a laugh — it drips like honey from your mouth, and Hange desperately wants to know how it tastes like. They want to hear it again.

“I doubt you like having fun in the sun either.” You reply, watching as the wind blows their hair — brunette locks dancing in the air, enhancing the messiness of their ponytail.

“Touché.”

Hange says, while burrying the remains of a cigarette in the sand, and you don’t point out how wrong it is — not with words, at least. Your eyes seem to translate your feelings either way.

“You’re so expressive.” It’s Hange’s turn to chuckle. “It’s adorable.”

Their words almost make your face heat in embarrassment. Almost.

“Oh, shut up.” Your tone is playful, not pointed at all. Avoiding their eye contact, you turn your face in order to pretend the ocean before you is a better sight than Hange.

“I mean it. I like it.”

Hange might tell you a joke, but they would never tell you a lie. Something about the honor of a scientist, you guess. It’s a beat of silence until you speak again.

“Yeah, well, you’re the opposite. I can’t read you at all.” This comment, though, this one is pointed — not like a knife, but similar to thorns on a rose. It comes with something beautiful, too: honesty.

The truth is palpable, swimming in between you. It’s all a funny, weightless banter, until it isn’t.

“My resting bitch face doesn’t help. Guess I’m better with words or something.”

This time you laugh, genuinely. It isn’t mean, you don’t mean to mock Hange at all — it’s just that the irony of it all is funny to you. Almost unbelievable.

“Oh, what a poet you are.” Your eyes are glued to the sea before you, admiring its chaotic beauty. The waves crash against the shore, becoming a conjugation of white bubbles.

It’s silent again, wordless tension building around you like a sand castle — ready to crumble at any sudden move.

“You’re really pretty.” They admit, which sounds like something in between a secret and a confession. It seems out of nowhere, but it truly isn’t. Lately, this is all Hange can think about. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

The waves crash again, destroying the metaphorical sand castle you built around yourself, trying to protect you from whatever it is you’re scared of.

“Hange.” The sound of their name leaving your mouth isn’t a threat, although it isn’t an invitation either.

“No, I mean it. Truly.” They reach for something inside their bag, something important in the mess of papers, headphones, and a cigarette pack.

They’ve found it: a small, worn out notebook.

“Here, take a look.” They offer it to you, opened on a certain page. “Then tell me you think I’m lying.”

There are doodles of you. Your face, distracted, frozen in the moment, probably when you were laughing at something crude Levi had said. There is your silhouette, too: you guess it’s the view of when you walk in front of them, hurriedly trying to arrive on time for a move you went to see.

Your smile, your eyes. Every detail of your face, something that cannot be translated by a photograph. The traces Hange has memorized over the years you have known each other. This is what they picture before going to bed, or early in the morning when they wake up.

“Hange.” This time, when you say their name, it is softer — it warms them up. “Hange…”

It’s like you’re hypnotized, unable to say anything but their name.

When you look up, they are closer, nose brushing against yours. Hange looks at you through thick glasses, with curiosity. This time, they can’t read your expression.

“Kiss me.”

And they do. It is gentle, soft — their lips move against yours like the waves move against the shore, as if it was nature’s reason for your own existence. Their warm palms find your face, holding you preciously. It is brief, however. The kiss ends as quickly as it came.

Neither of you speak, too afraid to break the moment. Hange brings their forehead against yours, and like that you stay. You taste like salt air, warm like whiskey. It is fiery, overtaking them as a whole. They wouldn’t mind being swallowed by it, drowning in the overwhelming hotness that is your touch.

This time, Hange says your name, warm brown eyes looking into yours and finding nothing but love. Admiration. Devotion.

It’s a humorless chuckle, what comes next. It leaves their lips nervously. For someone so careless like Hange, it sure is a new sight to see them like this — a pink tint covering their cheeks, a loopy smile on their lips. They have never looked so soft.

“I have wanted to do this for so long.”

“What, go to the beach on a rainy day?” You ask in attempted humor, beaming when it earns you a laugh from them.

“Kiss you. Couldn’t stop thinking about it.”

You smile, breaking eye contact and looking at the sand. It looks damp, cold. Unlike what you feel right now.

“Me too.”

Hange looks into your eyes again, scanning it from any signs of mischief. They find none.

“I get the appeal of this now. If anything, the shitty weather makes it feel more romantic.”

You give them an I know, right? look, and they fight the urge to kiss you again.

“Glad I could change your mind. We could do this again, if you want.”

The words that leave your lips are soft, but confident. Just like you.

“What, are you asking me on a date?”

“Depends on your answer.”

Hange offers you a toothy smile, feeling like a child. They feel on top of the world now. How could they not, after all?

“Yeah. Obviously, of course. I would love to go on a date with you. Multiple dates, even.”

You smile again, cheeks already hurting from so much happiness.

“Can’t wait to make you mine.” They say, bringing your palm to their lips, pressing a gentle kiss on your warm skin. “Cause I’m already yours.”

You believe them.

[veryinnovative]

@jegulus-microfic | march 1, prompt: rugby | word count: 1.080 featuring motion-sick regulus. this is mostly comical / partly crack. tw he does throw up but there's no graphic detail.

Exploiting what Regulus assumes to be the surviving remnants of a bewitched bloodline, James had, at long last, managed to magically convince the notorious ‘Young Sir Black’, as Horace would have it, to join him on a three-hour-long drive to the ancestral Potter manor to informally meet his parents.

Informally indeed because the first time he met Mr. and Mrs. Potter was during a fundraiser event held in Somerset House organized by the Black family to launder money under the guise of charitable benevolence. Regulus had been sixteen then. Sixteen and trying to mask the lingering scent of weed because somehow Barty had convinced him to ‘smoke a quick one’ before being subjected to the horror that was the annually rehearsed speech of one of his phony relatives. Not that Regulus remembered much of it, not when he had been too laser-focused on James Potter’s brilliant smile and his rugby-appropriate wide shoulders and height. 

And it’s not that Regulus isn’t excited to meet James’ parents, not at all. Euphemia often demands Regulus show his face when James takes the time to video call her and Fleamont is very invested in the growing rare enamel pin collection he has going on. 

The reason for his uneasiness is simply—

“Hey, Reg, you okay?” James asks, gently nudging him in his side. Emphasis on gently.

 “Mhm,” Regulus hums, his gaze glued to the window instead of its usual hyperfixation: his boyfriend’s face. He had read, long ago, that finding a fixed point would help. The writer of the article fucking lied.

The problem is that Regulus gets motion sick very fucking easily and avoids cars, busses, and a majority of moving vehicles like the bubonic plague. 

“Fifty years I have driven the Fleamont junior’s family. For fifty years!” Horace had proudly announced when Regulus clambered into the backseat with begrudging acquiescence. “You worry not, Young Sir Black. Mrs. Potter was as squeamish as you, but my driving simply cured her motion sickness!”

Regulus didn’t have the heart to tell him that he barely survived a bus ride of thirty minutes on a good day.

“Yeah,” Regulus rasps when James pokes him again, worry creasing the skin between his eyebrows. “No, I’m fine.” The lane switches got him good, but that would be an insult to Horace’s otherwise seamless driving skills. Curse Regulus for being so sensitive to it all.

“We got like another hour and a half left,” James tells him, to which Regulus tries not to groan like a toddler on the verge of a tantrum. “You need a break?”

Regulus definitely needs a break, but they have already stopped at a gas station three times and he is out of excuses that won’t inevitably upset Horace. First, James had to go to the bathroom. Then, Regulus needed to use the loo. The third time, he had lied through his teeth he’d fancy a snack, and no, not the ones that Horace had stockpiled in the little mini-fridge nestled between seats. 

The overpriced pack of mini Party Rings rests unopened in his hands. Unopened because he will die if he so much as gets a whiff of food.

This discomfort, of course, doesn’t elude Horace.

“It’s—It’s the sun!” He exclaims. “The sun is hanging quite low today, making the asphalt expand so inconveniently like this. Terribly sorry, Young Sir Black, you know how it goes with this country’s tax money and road improvements…”

Regulus hums in response and lets his head fall back against the headrest. “Sorry, James. You were saying?”

“Just about the evening’s plans but never mind that. Are you okay?”

“Young Sir Black is mighty fine,” Horace replies in his stead. “No such thing as motion sickness exists when it is I who drives, sir Junior.”

Horace remains faithful to his promise for a whole whopping three minutes until a twist in the road intervenes, and Regulus's stomach lurches, betraying his efforts to quell the rising nausea after a record time of suppression. 

“James,” Regulus groans.

James looks thoroughly alarmed and starts shifting in place looking for the bag he had been entrusted with. “Oh, shit. Bag? Fuck, do you—”

Unfortunately, he jostles Regulus in the process. Regulus, who has been fighting for his life.

“James,” he wheezes out, weakly flailing his arm. “The bag—I—”

“I’m looking for it! Fuck, which pocket did I put it in—”

“Is everything alright back there?!” Horace asks, his eyes wide in the rearview mirror. “Oh, oh no…”

Ignoring the loud lamenting of his driver, James almost flings the plastic bag in Regulus’ face. “I found it!”

“That is it then,” Horace whispers. “I take this as my sign to officially resign upon dropping you and Young Sir Black off, sir Fleamont junior. It has been my greatest honor to serve you and the Potter family for fifty years.”

“Horace, please.”

“It is the age, is it not? This vocation, it’s knighthood, sir Fleamont junior. One does not retire so easily—”

All else is drowned out by Regulus painfully emptying his stomach with a retch. Had this not happened before, shame would have flooded him in the multitudes. He still wonders how James had convinced both himself and Regulus to admit to a long car ride. Something something about the pastures being a healing balm…

“Horace,” James pleads again as he rubs circles on Regulus’ back. “I can only really comfort one of you. Baby, you okay? That— okay, no you’re not. Please stop kicking me in the shin, I will apologize profusely when you can breathe.”

There are tears welling up in Horace’s eyes. “Oh, now I’ve done it, made Young Sir Black sick. I am a failure, I do not deserve the title and honor of driving you or your parents. I must hand over the keys the very instant I arrive. Do allow me the opportunity to part from her, sir Fleamont junior.”

Regulus thinks he’s going to lose his mind. James might be on the verge of losing his too. “Horace, please, I need your eyes on the road.”

“I could drive this car blind, sir! For fifty years—”

“Please do not drive the car blind.” James sounds utterly exasperated now.

It takes him a solid couple of minutes but Regulus eventually manages to come up for a fresh breath of air and the damp press of a scented baby wipe against his jaw. He lets James coddle him, for now.

“Fuck… You.”

“I deserve that one.”

[rubylovessharks]

Malleus Draconia x gn!reader fluff

reader is not MC/Yuu

you two go to (mctwst i dont have a creative name for it-) and buy a happy meal for the dragon :p

"Dearest, I humbly request you to agree to go for an outing with me at 'MCtwst', if you wish. I await your reply.

-Yours truly Malleus Draconia."

This afternoon you got a message from your beloved boyfriend who has asked you out on a date. Although he's message was worded a little silly, you have agreed to it without hesitation.

Agreeing on a time you get ready and go out to greet him as he stands outside waiting for you.

Looking at Malleus you feel as if you read his text wrong as he is dressed to the nines and not like he's on his way to eat mcnuggies and burgers. "I uhh..I didn't think you'd be dressed so formal..." You feel a little embarrassed considering the fact that all you are wearing is a simple T-shirt and normal pants, while your boyfriend is wearing literally a suit. "Is this not appropriate?" he asks concerned that he is currently wearing something that isn't appropriate, of course it was never your intent to make him feel that way so you take his hands in yours and look up at his beautiful face.

"Don't worry, it's totally fine!" you smile at him "I was just not expecting this since it's, ya know- MCtwst-" Malleus gives you a confused look, it's a restaurant right? Why shouldn't he dress formal for this kind of date.

So you two go to the restaurant of unhealthy foods to enjoy a meal that will be more pricey then it needs to be, yet it's not about the food itself, it's about the memories.

And what good memories you two obtain!

When the two of you walk into MCtwst and go to where you will order your food a certain food-name catches Malleus's eye.

'Happy burger meal + a NEW toy!'

"A toy?" he says his thoughts out loud.

"Yeah they put different toys that are popular for the kids." You tell him "and what kind of toys are popular at the moment?" he turns his head in your direction. "I don't really know.. we can always check, they usually say it on here."

So the both of you investigate the meal on the menu and find that there are two kinds of happy meals.

"Huh. It says here that there's the 'happy burger meal + a mickey and friends toy' and there's a 'happy surprise meal'." you read the options out loud for your boyfriend who stands there and thinks for himself. "Perhaps I should take this 'happy surprise meal'." he voices his thoughts yet again. "I am quite curious about the surprise." You click the add button on said meal and tell him "Than I'll buy it for you!" Malleus blushes at this, yet he doesn't understand why. You click on the create order button and pay for your share of the meal, including the happy meal for your boyfriend. "Consider it a gift for you that shows my love for you, k?"

Malleus is used to getting gifts, he gets them from Lilia all the time. And for his birthdays he gets many more from Sebek and Silver as well. So it isn't like he's not used to it, so why does the idea of you buying him a kids happy meal for him makes him feel sooo....

happy and loved?

Perhaps it's the knowledge that now he'll have something that makes him think of you more often.

Or maybe it's the idea that you, his lover, is willing to think about him and his happiness as well as he does for you.

Malleus and you are now sitting together at one of the tables in the restaurant not uttering a single word. But it's mostly because you can see that your lover's face is a bit more red than usual, so you leave him to his own thoughts for a short while until your meal is ready.

And after a while it is ready! You get up to go get it from the counter and bring it back to where Malleus is sitting.

"Babe it's ready" you wake him from his thoughts "ah I see." You hand him his share of the meal and watch him as he, with as much emotion as he can actually show on his face, is excitedly opening his surprise meal and see what toy he gets.

He opens it up and finds none other than Mickey mouse himself!(ireallydkhowhedevenbetherecuznoonecannonaclyknowshim)

"Damn I didn't think they'd use the same toys from the other happy meal..." you tell him, even if it isn't the toy you got for yourself you feel disappointed. But your boyfriend seems as happy as ever, a smile on his face as he examines the small toy in his much larger hand "I like it" he says, why shouldn't he like it? You bought it for him after all.

The meal might've tasted like the most unclean oil ever, but Malleus got himself a figuring that he puts on his shelf in his room. And whenever he looks at it he gets remanded of you, his lover <3

[withacapitalp]

How to Rehabilitate a Jock Part 19

Part One Link to ao3 Part 18.

Part Twenty

As always thank you to @stevethehairington and @thefreakandthehair for generally keeping my head on my shoulders and betaing everything I always throw at you guys ily ily ily

Step Nineteen: Sing a Song

“Are you sure about this Steve?” Claudia asked for the millionth time as Steve opened her coat and held it out in front of him with a patient smile. 

“I’m sure. Honest, Mrs. Henderson.” Steve said. He had gone through this exact song and dance with every parent except for Joyce and Hop, and Claudia was the final hold out. Truthfully he had expected Karen Wheeler or the Sinclairs to be the most unsure about leaving their sons at his house overnight, but a few small platitudes had been enough to get them to let go and go home. 

Well, a few platitudes and a bottle of wine to hit the road with. 

“Steven,” She immediately replied, a faux warning tone coloring her voice as she wagged her finger at him with a grumpy look in her eye. 

“Claudia,” Steve amended, still feeling that little awkwardness that he always had when he addressed any adult by their first name. He could practically hear his mother’s voice in his ear telling him off for being impolite. “It’s not a problem, and besides, they’re just going to sleep. Super easy.”

Steve wasn’t exactly sure if that was true, but he had hope. All six of his brats had been letting out big yawns as he had ushered them up the stairs a little while ago, and he hadn’t heard any shouting coming from upstairs yet. There was no way of knowing if the excitement of a sleepover would give them a second wind of some form, but even that would be short lived. 

Besides, Eddie had just left to drop off his friends with the promise of coming back soon, so the quicker he got the kids in bed, the better. 

“It’s not that I don’t trust you, dear, you know how grateful I am for everything you’ve done for Dusty and the others,” Claudia said, finally allowing Steve to help her into her coat, “I just can’t believe you don't get tired of having them all here so often. I mean, doesn't it exhaust you? I can barely handle the occasional playdate they have at my house!” 

“It does exhaust me,” Steve joked with a soft laugh, “but it’s also nice? A bit hard to explain, I guess.” 

“You’re starting to sound like a father,” Claudia teased, buttoning up her extremely bright pink coat., “You’ll make some girl very happy someday.” 

Steve laughed along because that was what was appropriate, but he couldn’t deny the weird pit in his stomach that was beginning to grow. A month ago he would have thought it was because of his breakup with Nancy and the prospect that he might never find someone he loved like her ever again. 

That made sense. 

But Steve could say with almost one hundred percent certainty that Nancy was nothing but a friend now. Someone important to him, but wholly platonic. He could also say that he still very much wanted to be a father. It was one of the things he wanted most in life.

So why was Claudia’s joke making him so uncomfortable? 

It made zero sense. There wasn’t any reason. Something just felt… wrong. 

Luckily their conversation appeared to be over. There were still the normal polite farewells and long goodbyes in the doorway, but that was all perfunctory. Steve could go through those motions without much thought, and before he knew it the front door shut and he was finally alone in his house once more. 

Thump. 

Mostly alone. 

“You shitheads better have your pajamas on and teeth brushed by the time I reach the top of these steps!” Steve called up from the bottom, standing still and relishing in the sudden flurry of activity that was coming from his bedroom. 

The kids weren’t even a bit frightened of him, but they still listened to him when they felt like it, and especially if he was doing something big like letting them all stay overnight so they could spend more time with El. It was almost novel, knowing they were going to actually do what he said with only minimal complaining. 

Steve waited one second longer before starting to climb the stairs, purposefully making his steps just a touch louder so he knew the kids could hear him approaching. He even made a show of slowly opening the door to his bedroom, only to be greeted by a truly miraculous sight. 

All six of them tucked tight into his bed, quiet and calm. Max, Lucas, and Will were even pretending to be asleep, just to really sell the bit. Max and Lucas weren’t doing too good, but Steve might’ve actually believed Will’s act if he didn’t know that Will always slept on his left, and not his right. 

“Look at that, turns out you can do as you’re told,” He said, putting his hands on his hips and biting his lip to avoid directly laughing at how good they were pretending to be. The ‘sleepers’ opened their eyes, and the others all relaxed at the easy going tone their babysitter was using. 

“Fuck you, Steve,” Mike grumbled, ever the contrarian. 

“I can still call your mom and dad to pick you up, Wheeler,” Steve threatened lightly, both of them knowing he would do no such thing. 

Still, it was enough to get Mike to back down, grumbling as he snuggled in tighter between Dustin and El. 

“How’d the plan go?” Dustin asked eagerly, leaning over his grumpy friend and jamming his elbow’s into Mike’s ribs, causing the other boy to snarl and try to push him off without success. 

“Pretty much perfect,” Steve sighed walking over and sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling at one of Max’s braids idly just to rile her up a little bit. “El should have no problem going to school next year.”

The kids immediately began to cheer and whoop, already excitedly planning all the things they would get to do together next year.

All except one. 

“What’s wrong Supergirl?” Steve asked softly, furrowing his brow at El’s stormy expression. “I thought this would make you happy.” 

That was the whole reason he had come up with this insane plan- he had wanted to make El happy. And yet, here she was, practically miserable. 

El sucked in one cheek, chewing on it in a move that was so reminiscent of Hopper it almost made Steve laugh. She looked just like her dad when he was deep in thought. 

“I am happy about being allowed to go to school,” El finally began, her words slow as she thought through the exact words she wanted to use. Steve waited patiently, knowing she would come to the words when she had them, or would ask for one that might help explain better. 

“I am… uncomfortable with lying. Friends don’t lie.”

Friends don’t lie. 

Steve wasn’t exactly sure who had taught that to these kids, but if he ever found out, he would not be responsible for what he did. 

Don’t lie. What a stupid thing to teach kids. In Steve’s opinion- honesty was overrated. There was nothing wrong with a white lie, or a big fat one, as long as it was for a good reason. What was the point in telling his mother that his dad was out with his secretary again? What sense was there in being truthful when Carol asked if the other girls thought she was mean? Saying those things just hurt everyone, Steve included. 

It was better to be smart, to be strategic with the truth, and hope for the best. He would lie to everyone around him, as long as it was what would keep them happiest. What they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them, and actually, knowing would hurt more. 

Still, he couldn’t say that to them. Especially not to El of all people. The other kids barely understood; her black and white way of thinking wouldn’t be able to get it. Not yet. 

But then again, maybe it would be better if she never did.   

“Friends don’t lie, but friends do keep secrets,” Steve decided, hoping that would be enough. “We’re going to keep your secrets, so you can stay safe. Does that make sense?”

“Yes,” El said almost immediately, knowing how important her safety was to Steve. She paused, and Steve could practically see the wheels turning in her brain as she let his words truly sink in. 

Once she did she took a deep breath and turned back to him, making sure Steve was looking at her as she spoke. 

“But I still don’t like it? Does that make sense?” El asked hesitantly. 

“I don’t like it either,” Mike said, and this time Steve could tell he wasn’t just agreeing because it was El. Mike’s little glower had turned into a full blown scowl, and his arms flew around as his voice began to raise, “El saved the world. Twice. She’s a hero, not a monster!” 

No, she wasn’t a monster, and Steve would never want her to think of herself as one, but the world wasn’t so kind. Before he could even begin to try explaining that, the kids kept going. 

“It does kind of suck that I can’t tell my mom anything,” Max admitted, uncharacteristically quiet as she kept her eyes firmly on the blanket covering her legs. “I don’t care about telling Billy or Neil or anything, but my mom asks me about my nightmares, and I can’t tell her why I have them. I’ve never been good at keeping secrets from her.”

“My mom’s still bummed about Mews,” Dustin muttered. 

“My mom knows and it’s still hard to talk to her,” Will added on, looking far too old for just being twelve. 

They all looked old. It was like Steve could almost see the adults they would be someday far down the line. Adults with secrets to bear, and lies to tell, and too many things they would never be able to explain to the world around him. Things that their mothers would never be able to help them with.

Was that what he was now?

Steve had never even considered talking to his mother about everything they had been through. The thought hadn’t crossed his mind once. And now that he was thinking about it, he still couldn’t imagine a world where he would ever talk to his mom about any of this. 

… It was hard to recall the last time he had talked to his mom about anything real. 

“I know it sucks, but it’s not safe guys,” He said, focusing on the thing he could worry about and ignoring the panging ache in his heart. This wasn’t a time to think about his mommy issues. This was about the kids. 

“Yeah, being put in cuffs once was enough for me,” Lucas said, unconsciously rubbing at his wrists. “Not fun.”

“I do not want to go back to the lab. Secret’s are necessary,” El agreed, reaching over and tangling her fingers in Lucas’s, “but they suck.”

“Secrets suck a big fat one,” Dustin declared. 

El leaned back, quirking her head to the side. 

“A big fat what?” She asked, the absolute picture of innocence she was. 

There was a beat of quiet as they all registered exactly what she had just said, and then as a group they all began to laugh. Steve tried in vain to stifle his giggles, not wanting El to feel like she was being laughed at, but she was smiling too, pleased as punch to get her friends feeling happy again instead of sad. 

“I’ll explain it some other time, Elliegirl,” Steve promised, tugging the covers more securely around the brats as he did. “And you guys can always talk to me, you know that right? I’m not the same as your parents, but I’m here.” 

Some sleepy nods and yawns answered him, and Steve figured the conversation had reached its natural conclusion. But, just as he reached over to grab the lights, a quiet little voice broke through the silence. 

“... Who do you talk to?” 

Steve paused, his fingers still curled around the knob on his bedside lamp as he turned to give Will a curious look. 

“What?” 

“You said we can talk to you, but who do you talk to?” Will explained, a little nervous like always, but not backing down. 

No one. 

“Plenty of people. I’ve got my friends, and Nancy and Jonathan,” Steve replied, a little too cheerfully, trying to ignore the immediate response that had come to mind. 

“But you can’t talk to Eddie or the others about the upside down stuff, and you barely talk to Nancy and Jon,” Max argued, joining Will in staring Steve down now that he had considered the question, “so, who do you get to talk to about this, Steve?”

“Where’s all this coming from?” Steve asked, expertly maneuvering around the situation. He ruffled Dustin’s curls, finally free of his hat, poking him in between the eyes to add an extra annoyance. “I’m the one that worries about you brats, not the other way around.” 

“We are friends, Steve. Aren’t friends supposed to watch over each other?” El insisted. 

Steve opened his mouth but quickly shut it before he said something stupid like they weren’t friends or it didn’t work that way. 

But wasn’t that the truth?

The kids were friends with each other, Nancy was Mike’s sister, Jonathan was Will’s brother, Hopper and Joyce were the parents. Where did Steve fit in that equation? ‘Babysitter’ had been an easy thing to use as a placeholder, but how much longer could he say that? What place was Steve supposed to be in for them as they got older? He wasn’t their brother, but he couldn’t see a world where he fit as one of their friends. 

“You’re wrong,” Dustin grumbled, pulling Steve out of his head and back into the moment. 

“Excuse me?” Steve said, more than a little shocked. As far as he knew, El was the only one who could read minds, and he hadn’t said a word. 

And yet, they were all glaring at him, unhappy with whatever they had seen on his face. 

“How many times do we have to say you’re in the party?” Mike muttered, a heavy red blush on his cheeks as he burrowed deeper into the pillows to avoid looking at anyone. 

“Dumbass,” Max added, just to even things back out. 

A hot heavy warmth spread through Steve’s chest and he bit down the stupid smile that was 

threatening to break onto his face. Whatever he was, it didn’t matter. They cared, and that was what mattered. 

“If I need to, I’ll talk with you guys,” Steve offered, knowing deep in his bones that he would never do such a thing. 

“Promise?” Lucas murmured.

“Promise,” Steve lied with a soft, honey sweet voice, shutting off the light and letting the hallway lamp and the glow of the pool illuminate the room in a gentle cool tone. “Now it’s really time for bed.”

“What about Story and Song?” El asked. 

Steve raised his brows in surprise, reminded with a jolt that despite looking just the same, El wasn’t like the other kids. 

Story and Song was a little tradition Steve had started for the nights that Hopper had to work late, an easy way to get her to go to bed in an unfamiliar house without the comforting presence of her dad. He would read one of the short stories from his big book of Disney stories, sing her a song, and she would sleep until Hopper came to pick her up. It was sweet, but none of the other kids would have ever dared to ask for such a childish thing. They would want to act more grown up, more mature, always in a rush to grow up. 

El had no such qualms. 

A familiar storybook was being floated into his lap, and none of them, not even the boys, were protesting. In the blink of an eye, they weren’t old anymore, just kids who wanted to hear a story they already knew to help them fall asleep. 

“Which one do you guys want?” Steve asked, ignoring the lump that was starting to grow in his throat, flipping through the Disney storybook and feeling the worn edges against his fingertips. 

“Lady and the Tramp?” Dustin offered, seeing that Steve was already thumbing through that page. He turned to the beginning and rolled his neck getting into the mood to read, using the light from the pool outside as his guide. 

“Lady was a happy little dog. She lived in a big house with Jim Dear and Darling.”

By the time Steve’s index finger glossed along the last sentences of the story, most of the kids had dropped off. Will had fallen asleep almost immediately, with Dustin and Lucas tripping after him before too long. El had made a valiant attempt to stay up, but she was gone by the time Lady met the other dogs at the pound. 

Steve had just two hold outs left.

“G’night guys,” He said quietly, slowly sliding off of the bed and putting the book on the floor next to his bed. Mike turned over and ignored him, but Max sat up with a little glare. 

“You said we would get a song too,” Max said sleepily, rubbing at her eyes with both palms. 

“That’s being cheap, Harrington.”

Cheap? Was she actually serious?  

“You two… want me… to sing you a lullaby?” Steve asked in complete disbelief. El, he understood. She had no frame of reference, no way of knowing that she might be a little bit too old for things like this, but Max? 

Mike? 

“We just don’t think you can actually sing,” Mike said, his words punctuated by a ridiculously big yawn. 

“You gotta close your eyes then, and just listen,” Steve sighed, unwilling to argue this late at night. 

“Deal,” Max said, snuggling down into the bed.

Steve let his eyes fall shut, taking a long deep breath as he slowly lowered himself to the ground, putting his back against the bed and conveniently facing away from the kids. It wasn’t like he was embarrassed to sing, it would just be easier not to have to see them while he did it. 

But what should he sing? 

It had to be something soft, something easy. Something anyone would want to hear. 

The memory hit him like a ton of bricks. 

“Who could hate this song?” 

Steve had the answer. 

“Love of my life, you’ve hurt me…”

Tag List: Taglist: @paopaupaus @zerokrox-blog @surferboyzaza @whatever-is-a-good-name@minjintea @addelyin @5ammi90 @hagbaby420 @shinekocreator @bornonthesavage @starxlark @electrick-marionnett @resident-gay-bitch @ash-a-confused-enby @classicdinosaurdeathpose @valon-whomsttf @rotten-lil-goblin @thereindeerlady @love-ya-kash @kerlypride @sparkle-fiend @thefreakandthehair @flowercrowngods @milf-harrington @sadcanadianwinter @gothbat99 @hotcocoaharrington @henderdads @lightwoodbanethings @colorful565 @h0n3y-dw @craterbbox @sourw0lfs @lesliiieeeee @bidisastersworld @tinynebula @ravnlinn @bonescaro @mexmatch @cottagecoredreams @joruni @hellykelly @maegan1116 @farewell-wanderlvst @desertfern @due-to-the-fact-that-im-a-slut @anythingforourmoonyedits @eerielake @fandemonium-takes-its-toll @sidekick-hero

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Deadly Proposal: Part Five

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.5k

Warnings: angst, drug use (cocaine), heartbreak

Summary: Amber takes it a step too far when she throws a party at Dean's house. She crosses a line completely when she reverts back to her old self, and you are done breaking your back for her.

Deadly Proposal Masterlist

Square Filled: force feeding for @badthingshappenbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

The fight with your sister and Dean made it so you couldn’t sleep well last night. You slide out of bed, throw on something to wear that’s semi-appropriate, and head down to the kitchen. You’re not expecting to see anyone but Sonja, so you’re surprised when Amber is sitting at the kitchen island. She gives you a side glance but doesn’t say anything to you.

“I thought you were leaving.”

“I know you want me gone but my boyfriend didn't show.”

“I never said I wanted you gone,” you sigh. “I was frustrated yesterday, and I said something I didn’t mean. I’m sorry.”

“Whatever,” she shrugs. “Looks like you’re stuck with me.”

You sit at the kitchen counter and turn to her.

“Why don’t you and I go into town today and look for jobs? You said you were going to try.”

“Yeah, maybe we can do that later.”

“You need to do it sooner rather than later. Dean only gave you a week here.”

“What are you, my mom?” she scoffs.

She leaves her untouched food on the counter and storms to her room. Your shoulders sag in defeat but you don’t dwell for long. Sonja takes her food away and sets a plate in front of you with a kind smile on her face.

“Thanks, Sonja.”

As you eat, you think about Dean and your fight. Was it a fight? You know you’re not supposed to feel anything for him since you’re just a blood bag for him but the more he drinks from you, the more you crave him. Not just him, but his time and attention as well. You want to know so much about him but he doesn’t give you much to work with. He’s so mysterious and it’s driving you insane.

The thing with Amara isn’t sitting well with you either. You hated how jealous you got when she came over. She’s so beautiful, and may or may not have been involved with Dean. You subconsciously touch the wounds on your neck that have mostly healed. What did she mean when she said your blood was special? She said that she’d never smell anything like it, but doesn’t she smell blood all the time? No, that was carnal behavior. Dean talked to her but you’re not sure what he said to her. Does he even care?

No, screw this. You’re not going to sit here and continue to wonder. You’re going to get answers now. After you’re done eating, you walk upstairs to where Dean’s office is. Your hand hovers over the doorknob as doubt begins to creep inside your mind. Would he give you the time of day? Would he send you to your room like a petulant child?

“I can hear you breathing, you know,” Dean says from inside.

It’s now or never. You open the door and walk inside. Dean is sitting at his desk typing quickly on his laptop.

“What are you doing?”

“Nosy much?” he smirks.

“I can’t help it.” You shrug. “I’m bored and you’re not paying attention to me.”

Dean chuckles and leans back in his chair to give you his undivided attention.

“If you must know, I’m working.”

“You have a job?” you gasp in a teasing tone.

Dean shakes his head with a smile he can’t resist. “Yes.”

“What is it you do?”

“Nothing you need to know about.”

You walk over to his desk, sit across from him, and cross your legs.

“Do you realize you’re always brooding or does it come naturally to you?” Dean rolls his eyes and continues typing. “So, where’s your brother? I’m assuming you have one, right?”

“Are we doing this right now?”

“Fine.” You pause. “Do you have any parents?” He doesn’t reply. “I’m going to keep asking you questions until you answer.”

“Fine.” Dean groans and pushes his laptop away to pay attention to you. “You have five minutes. Go.”

“How old are you?”

“Over half a millennium. Seven hundred and sixty-two years if you want to get specific.”

“How did you become a vampire?”

“I was working a hunt when I was human. Vampires. They got to me before I could get to them. I’ll spare you the bloody details.”

“What do you do for work?”

“I help women escape their abusers.”

You’re taken aback. You did not expect that to come from him. You want to know more but then you’d use up your five minutes and you need to more about him.

“You made it sound like you had a family. Any siblings?”

“Dead.”

“Parents?”

“Dead.”

“Are all your friends dead, too?” Dean cracks a smile and looks away to try and hide it. Your smile fades slowly. “Are you going to kill me when you’re done with me?”

“No.”

“Why me? Why take me out of everyone you could have taken?”

“I already told you.”

“Yeah, my ‘special blood’,” you scoff. “What does that mean? Amara said I had special blood, too. What makes me special?”

“You remind me of someone I used to know. She had the same blood you did. In fact, you two are more similar than I’d care to admit. Maybe I don’t want to be alone anymore. Maybe she was the best thing to have happened to me in a long time, and I want to have that again.” Your mouth goes agape as you try and process his words. He clears his throat and pulls his laptop closer to him. “Times up. Now get out and let me work.”

That’s more than you thought you’d get so you won’t complain. You get up as he continues typing, and you walk to the door slowly. You look back at him but he doesn’t spare you another glance. Since you don’t want to see Amber and Dean doesn’t want to hang with you, you decide to hang out in your room for the next few hours either reading, playing video games, or browsing Amazon for new stuff for your room.

It’s nearing dinner time so you get out of bed to see what Sonja has made. When you open the door, you hear music blasting from downstairs and commotion that sounds like chatter coming from a huge crowd. You take the stairs down two at a time to see people filing into Dean’s house. Strangers who are already inside hold red cups filled with God only knows what. This is a party. Dean would never throw a party and you didn’t, and there is only one person here that would.

You push past everyone to get to the living room where Amber is sitting on the couch with two nasty-looking men. Unkempt hair, dirty clothes, and yellow nails.

“Amber! What the hell are you doing?!”

“It’s a party!” she grins. “I was bored of staying in this house with nothing to do.”

“Fuck, Amber! This isn’t your house.”

“It’s not yours either. Plus, Dean is almost always gone. He won’t mind, I’m sure.”

How did you ever think you could change her? How did you ever think she would be willing to change? You’re about to respond to her when you feel a hand wrap around your arm. Dean pulls you away from Amber and to an empty room nearby. He shoves you inside the room and slams the door behind him with a deadly glare on his face.

“Dean, I am so sorry. I didn't know she was doing this. All these people just showed up,” you stutter. “God, she always does shit like this. I shouldn’t have brought her here.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Dean glares. “Get rid of them.”

“Yeah, you got it.”

“I mean it, Y/N. I am a vampire and this party is filled with blood bags. Get rid of them before I do.”

Your eyes widen when you realize the threat behind his words. You leave the room and push through the sea of people that seemed to get bigger from ten minutes ago. You grab a few cups from people but they pass you by without another thought.

“Party’s over! You need to leave!” you shout over the loud music. No one is listening to you so you push your way to the DJ who is spinning the record player. “Hey! You need to stop. The party is over!”

“Get lost,” he says and continues playing music.

The control is slowly leaving your body and you start to panic. People are doing body shots off of other people, some are in the pool half-naked, and some are playing beer pong and doing drugs, among them is Amber. From the DJ stand, you can see over everyone’s head and to the couch where you left Amber. There are white lines on the table, one of which she sniffs up her nose. You don’t think anyone can hear your heart break over the music.

You jump off the platform and push through the crowd to get to her. She sniffs up another line of drugs when you yank on her hair.

“What the fuck?”

“Are you serious right now?”

“Great, it’s the fun police,” she giggles with her friends. She grabs her alcohol bottle and takes a few swigs. “You need to lighten up, Y/N. Have fun. Get drunk. Get laid. Where’s Dean?”

Tears prick the back of your eyes. “This isn’t funny, Amber. This is my life. You come in and ruin everything! You’re poison and a parasite. I don’t even know why I helped you in the first place!”

Amber glares but she is too high to care enough to bite back.

“Let’s play Seven Minutes in Heaven!” she shouts. A few people cheer her on as she shugs the rest of her alcohol. Some drops fall from her mouth when she pulls the bottle away but she wipes it away with the back of her hand. “Y/N, you go first!”

“No, I’m not playing, Amber. Seriously, the party is over.”

Amber doesn’t listen and spins the bottle on the now drug-free table. The bottle spins and lands on a spot that’s right behind you, and she grins when she sees who is standing there.

“Dean, you gotta go in the closet with Y/N.”

You turn swiftly and see Dean standing there with an emotionless face. Shit, he looks pissed. Someone grabs your shoulder and pushes you and Dean into the nearest closet. The door closes before you can say anything. 

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper.

“I don’t care about the party, anymore.” Dean steps closer to you, puts a hand on the wall behind you, and leans in closer to you. “What are you doing to me?”

“What do you mean?” you whisper.

“I can’t get you out of my head. You’re so different from her.” You can only assume he’s talking about the woman before you. He’s so close that your heart is racing a million miles a second. He leans in so close that you think he is going to kiss you but he doesn’t. He’s stopping himself as if kissing you is the most horrible thing to do. You sigh in disappointment which Dean picks up on. “Fuck it.”

He turns back to you, grabs both sides of your head, and kisses you so deeply that your knees immediately go weak. He holds you close and takes complete control over the kiss. His lips mold to yours like they were always meant to be there. His tongue touching yours sends sparks flying down your body. Your head is swirling too quickly for you to keep up, and all you can smell is him.

He finally pulls away from you and you lean against the wall to steady yourself. Dean doesn’t say a word and leaves the closet since the seven minutes are up. You touch your lips with a shaky hand as you force yourself to calm your racing heart and mind. Amber is gone from the couch when you leave the closet but you don’t care about her. You storm over to the DJ who is taking a water break and snatch the microphone from the stand.

“Party is over. Get out. The police have been called and are on their way!”

That does it for most. They scatter like startled cats and the rest leave because everyone else is. Soon, the house is empty and covered with trash and empty bottles. You’ll clean this later but right now, there is one person on your mind who you need to deal with. It’s not hard to find your sister when she is vomiting her guts out in the downstairs bathroom. You don’t care if you get vomit on you. You yank her away from the toilet by her hair and pull her toward the door.

“Wait, Y/N, I’m sorry. Please don’t do this,” she cries.

“You’re done, Amber. You’re not living here anymore.”

“Please, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I won’t do it again,” she sobs.

You drag her to the front door and throw her out on her ass. She has tears running down her face and looks at you with a heartbroken look.

“Please, Y/N, don’t do this to me.”

“No, I am not doing this again. Go find somewhere else to sleep, and go find someone else who will give a shit about you because I am done.”

With that, you slam the door in her face. You start to clean the house from the partygoers but that doesn’t distract you from Amber’s cries on the front porch. You continue to ignore her until she stops which means she either fell asleep on the porch or she left. A quick check through the window tells you it’s the latter.

Amber stumbles from the house in tears and down the long driveway to the road. She has no idea where she is going to go but maybe there is a homeless shelter that might take her for the night. She pulls her thin jacket tighter against herself since it’s starting to get cold outside. She walks further down the road when she hears the rumble of a car behind her. Maybe she can hitch a ride to town.

She turns and puts her hand out to avoid being blinded by the headlights. The car slows down next to her, and the driver rolls down the passenger side window.

“Can I get a ride into town, please?”

“Hop in,” the man says.

Amber is quick to hop inside the car where the heater is gently blowing.

“Sorry if I seem like a mess. My sister just kicked me out of her life, basically. I know I’m a fuck up. I fuck up all the time. I understand why she would but she’s my sister. We’re supposed to stick together through thick and thin, you know? So I do a bit of drugs. So what?”

“You poor girl,” the man says. “I can help you.”

Amber looks up and sees he hasn’t moved the car since she got in. She glances over at him in confusion. He has a beer belly, hairy arms, a scraggly beard, and dark eyes.

“How?”

The man grins with sharp fangs where his canines should be. He grabs Amber and sinks his teeth into her neck. Amber screams for her life but no one is around to hear them. He’s right about one thing: poor girl.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[milkteamedley]

The Trouble With Corsets

Fandom: Genshin Impact Rating: R Pairing: Neuvillette x fem!reader Words: 732 Warnings: Oral sex (fem receiving), implication of more, slight breathing problems (from a corset tied too tight, no choking or other breath play during sex)

You go to a party with Neuvillette, but the 'after party' is what you'll remember.

---------------------

Neuvillette had been around more than long enough to know how upperclass parties worked.  People gathered in a large room, champagne flowed, and things were discussed.  Things that went right over your head.

The looks you received all night, however, did not.  You had gone into this party feeling anxious, all dolled up in the flowing dress Neuvillette had gifted you when you said you didn’t own anything appropriate for the party.  You were just a member of the Adventurer’s Guild, one who’d testified in court one day and caught Neuvillette’s eye.

He was softer and kinder than you expected.  And the gazes he tossed your way all evening almost made up for the fact you’re pretty sure the woman who helped you dress tied your corset much, much too tightly.

The evening ended early when Neuvillette finally noticed your discomfort- despite looking your way, he’d been constantly distracted by this noble or that one.  You’d smiled and nodded, introduced yourself when asked, but mostly you’d stayed silent.

The party had been near the opera house, and on the aquabus ride back to the Court of Fontaine, Neuvillette turned to you and said, “You didn’t have to stay if you were uncomfortable.”

You assured him you weren’t, though at this point you were gasping.  Definitely too tight.  But how were you going to undress yourself when you got home?

It turned out you didn’t need to.  As soon as the door to your tiny apartment was open, Neuvillette had you in his arms, kissing you and gently running his fingers down your back.  You were already dizzy, and it wasn’t from the one glass of champagne you’d had at the party.

By the time you both reached your bed, he’d started undressing you.  And when he got to the lace on your corset and tugged, you found yourself gasping.

And for some reason, that made you both laugh.

The corset was tossed aside to the floor even before your dress was.  It was clear he understood the discomfort you had endured.

“Let me assure you,” he said as he leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss, “they are not meant to be that tight.”

You wanted to reply, but the kiss distracted you.  And then his gloved hand was exploring your body, over your curves, admiring you like you were a treasure.

That’s what you were to him, and he genuinely looked regretful he hadn’t noticed your condition earlier.  You try to assure him that it’s okay, you didn’t want to embarrass him, but that just seems to make him more regretful.

“You could never embarrass me.”

Your face is flush as he removes your dress as well- it gets thrown to the side, ending up over the chair at your desk.  An idle thought drifts through your mind that you don’t want to ruin that dress- you hadn’t seen the price, but it was probably more Mora than you made in half a year.  But that thought didn’t last long.

Not when he’d removed your panties and was pushing your legs apart.

Your moans were always his favorite, and the noises that tumbled from your lips as his tongue pressed against your folds only encouraged him.  He moved his attention to your clit and you were squirming.

But then he was removing a single glove, and the moment he pushed two fingers into you, you cried out his name.  He was gentle but firm with you in bed, always.  The thrust of his fingers in your wet cunt went deep every time.  Your legs were shaking.

“Are you going to cum?” he whispered against your folds.  All you could do was nod.  “Then do it.”

As if that command was all you needed, you hit your climax, stars bursting in your vision and your back arching to take his fingers back in.  They were still thrusting, milking every bit of pleasure he could from you.  You felt like if he kept going, you’d reach another climax.

And then he pulled his fingers out, and he gazed at you.  Your chest was heaving, your body covered in sweat already.  A whine left your lips as you pressed your legs together, just trying to get some stimulation.

“Don’t worry,” he said, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead.  “I’m far from done with you.”

It would be a long night.

[gamerwoman3d]

◜ mk1 men using their powers in the bedroom part 1 of ?◞

▸ includes: reptile [mk1 versions] ◂

If you ask Syzoth whether or not Zaterrans are sexual creatures, he will answer that yes, it takes two Zaterrans in order to reproduce. But if you ask him whether he himself has an interest in sex, he would reply with a smile, saying "Pay me, and I might answer you."

[Spicy/Explicit after the cut 🔞]

The answer is that with very few exceptions, he views sex as an opportunity to perform. And he views performance as a way to earn money. You'd certainly not have been the first creature to pay for his honest answer, and you likely will not be the last.

People have paid good money to have Syzoth's freakish powers used for their pleasure. If you want to know details of his encounters with clients, he's happy to share, for the cost of a few koin. The higher the payout, the hotter the tea.

"Or perhaps you would rather we show, not tell," he might say while reaching out an empty palm as an offer to accept payment.

For pay, he will show you his body. His human body, nude, with elegant tattoos that tort and stretch with his movements, is an alluring sight to most. He has never been picky about the shape of his paying clients: all humans seem equally adorable and strange to him, while money makes anyone alluring in his eyes. He would waste no time in giving you whatever you desire from his body. In fact, his professional experience with pleasing others makes it highly likely that he can guess what you want and how deeply you desire it just from the skipping beat of your heart.

He cannot hear your heartbeat from a distance, but its imperceptible rhythm gently rattles the floor beneath his feet, and as his body evolved to detect such vibrations from the earth in order to hunt prey, he will know when the heart's rhythm changes. His eyes would take a slow tour of your body, and when he looked at the parts of you that you're most excited for him to play with, your heart would speed up naturally. The second he figures out what your heart truly desires, it is yours.

At first, he uses his tongue mostly for talking. He tells about past patron's kinks, such as the one who liked him to ride them reverse cowgirl style in his human form, only to strangle them with his tail during climax. Or the one that preferred to be pinned face down and very lightly scratched with razor sharp talons all down their back. He might tell cautionary tales of the ones that begged him to use his tongue on their genitals, not realizing that removing it can feel like tearing duct tape from the skin without the appropriate lubricants. Syzoth has an ulterior motive - while telling his stories, he's sensing your temperature. He knows when you're aroused because no matter what you have between your legs, it will emit heat.

He may move his face closer, hinting and teasing that he could go down. The tips of his forked tongue might flicker in the air just between your thighs, fanning the air towards his nostrils so he can better smell and taste the heat that rises from your body.

If you become a beggar in these moments, the same as many other patrons have done, he will insist that he's first allowed to test his tongue against less sensitive parts of your body. If you can tolerate the feel on your chest, perhaps you might enjoy the things you've proposed he do to your most sensitive spots.

He would eject his tongue to catch your nipple, then pull the tender tissue up as his face is drawn down to your chest by the tension in his tongue. He would suckle and mouth at this spot for a while, feeling your heartbeat rattle throughout his entire skull. He's gentle when he comes up for air, but it does indeed feel like ripping a bandaid off. He's only chosen this moment to risk causing you pain because he believes you're too aroused to care about or even feel pain.

He would tell you that for his most requested trick, he requires a funhouse mirror - the kind that makes everything seem bigger. He has no hesitation in telling you that he had one while in the circus, and that he'd put it behind him before fucking certain patrons. He'd hold them in a very specific way that would force them to look at their own reflection... *through* his invisible chest, angled so they could practically see inside themselves as he worked them open with the invisible phallic objects of their choice. For some, fingers sufficed. For most, seeing his cock disappearing inside them over and over again was the pinnacle of pleasure. Still others preferred invisible toys, or the tongue, or even something more creative.

His favorite thing is the look on a patron's face when he's suddenly visible again. By the time he drops the invisibility, both he and his patrons are fuckdrunk and often have cute, dumbfounded expressions on their faces. Syzoth knows his open mouthed grin is cuter when his face flushes at the brink of his orgasm. He knows he's as adorable as he is silly looking when he's slackjawed, panting, and pressing the tips of his tongue weirdly to the roof of his mouth.

He's still performing, and would work you until you get what you paid for.

The final upsell he pitches to his wealthiest clients is a territorial marking - a visible acid brand. At his most extreme, and reserved only for the healthiest, wealthiest patrons, he has, as a service, permanently branded the bodies of his highest paying clients. Even Outworld royalty can be found with his mark - the scars of a human-sized bite wound, carved deeper by the use of a strange acid. The meaning of these brands are clear to the others that share in his profession- "This one pays the most, and both he and his wallet are mine. Touch my man or my money and you will suffer my bite." A less drastic, less permanent brand might be the reddened imprint of a forked tongue, which lets the competition know that "we are just starting out and testing the waters - try me again later to see if I stuck around, or if I've healed and moved on."

He readily admits that just as many patrons refuse the branding service as there are patrons who find it of interest. As long as you are satisfied, Syzoth has no preference for which acts you chose to pay him to perform upon you.

[End for now]

For Part 2 - subzero - click here

Also thanks to @visionsofmagic for inspiring this writing with a similar set of imagines at https://www.tumblr.com/visionsofmagic/729107508174651392/mk1-men-using-their-powers-while-fcking-you?source=share

[Need more MK1 smut? Check the pin 📌]

[diagonal-queen]

That Place

♡ pairing: Dazai Osamu x gn!Reader

♡ synopsis: Dazai decides to introduce you to his old friend, except he's not what you thought he'd be.

♡ wc: 1.5k

♡ cw: Death (I hate to remind everyone that Oda is very deceased), Dazai talks about the mafia and suicide, mentions of alcohol.

note: You guys wanted this 😐 (dw I'm not mad or anything lol, I was just worried when I saw that the angst option won because I suck at writing angst sksjksksskjh) Apologies for errors.

Dazai hadn't said a single word for a few minutes and you were extremely worried about that.

He was taking you to meet an 'old friend' of his, or at least that's what he claimed. You weren't going to any usual places where one might visit a friend, like a cafe or a mall, but instead you were traipsing a small hill near the port. You were fully aware that Dazai was an unorthodox individual, and that his friends possibly were too, but you still had a twinge of apprehension in your stomach.

"Osamu...?" You finally asked, wanting to satiate your curiosity. "Why're we meeting him all the way out here?" Dazai gripped your hand a little tighter, and when you reached the top of the hill he finally spoke.

"He's here, already."

You took one of his arms and held it, almost nervously.

"He's here?" You repeated, confused. There was a tree, a gravestone, some flowers, but not much else. You noticed that the grass was rather soft, for what that was worth. Dazai stared at the headstone.

"Odasaku..." he began, then gestured towards you. "This is Y/N."

"Oh, you were talking about..." The grave. That was what he was talking about. You turned to him in surprise, but he didn't meet your gaze. The usual jovial and carefree gleam in his eyes was entirely absent. It was truly unnerving to see.

"I don't usually talk to him, but I figured an introduction was appropriate," Dazai shrugged, his face expressionless. The grave read S. ODA, who had apparently died at the age of twenty three. You'd never heard of such a man before, but you could only assume that by Dazai's reaction he must have been quite important.

"You said...Odasaku?" You asked, and Dazai drew a slow breath.

"Ah, that's just a nickname I gave him," he explained, quietly. "His name was Oda Sakunosuke."

"Right. How did you know him?"

"...we were both with the Port Mafia at the time," he bit his lip, and for a moment you reconsidered asking a single other question. Dazai hadn't revealed much to you at all about his time as a mafia executive, and eventually you gave up asking any questions. He really only ever griped about his ex-partner.

Dazai had always been, and was still, very much a wild card of a man. He was rather unpredictable, but you'd gotten much better at reading him over time, and you could tell that this Oda Sakunosuke was a rather valuable figure in Dazai's life. It was written plain as day on his face. You wondered then, if that was the case, why you'd never known of his existence before today.

"I see..." you replied so softly it was essentially a whisper.

"He was a little weird, though. He never killed anyone, despite being in the mafia, and he always had his curry really spicy. It was like putting solid fire in your mouth. I tried it once and I think I almost died."

"Some people just have a taste for spicy food, I suppose." You felt a little awkward. Often it was so easy to make conversation with Dazai, which was one of his many traits that drew you in so quickly. However, now you had no idea what to say or how to comfort him, though that was all you wanted to do. Admittedly, though, this revelation about Oda was rather sudden.

"You remember that bar I took you to last weekend? I told you that it was important to me?" You nodded, recalling the location. You remembered how time seemed to slow down while you were sitting in the mostly deserted bar with Dazai, noting the faint scent of smoke and how Dazai was so much more quiet that day. "Odasaku and I used to spend our time there outside of work. Us and Ango, too."

"Ango?" You questioned. You didn't know the agent too well, but you wouldn't have guessed that he and Dazai shared much of a history.

"Yeah. The three of us were friends, before Odasaku died."

"...don't take this the wrong way, but I can't really see you and Ango being friends." You turned to face him. "He's very...stern, and you're not."

"Things have changed since then." That brief statement told you all you needed to know. You sighed, and gave his arm a squeeze. The breeze picked up slightly, the leaves of a nearby tree disturbing your shared silence with their rustling. Dazai's beige coat fluttered in the wind.

"Odasaku is actually the reason I turned to the Agency," Dazai suddenly shrugged, the usual playful inflection somewhat returning to his words. "When he died, I made a promise to him, and that's how I've kept it."

You knew he was being intentionally vague, but whether it was because he'd rather not elaborate or because he thought you wouldn't understand, you weren't sure.

"You were with him when he died?"

"He was killed by the leader of an opposing organisation." Dazai bitterly answered. "And I found him right before he died. He asked me to...he told me to make a promise and I don't want to break it."

"...I know this is kind of a dumb truism, but I think he's proud of you, Osamu," you said, leaning your head onto his shoulder. "I think that he'd be glad to see that you've kept the promise- whatever it is, I mean."

"Mm," Dazai nodded once, slowly. You weren't certain that he'd absorbed the words as you'd intended.

"I'd have liked to meet him. Do you think we'd have gotten along?"

"...yeah, I think...I think he'd have liked you." For the first time since arriving at Oda's grave, Dazai smiled. It was a small, sombre smile, but it was vastly better than his empty expression from moments ago. "In some ways, you remind me of him."

"Oh? How so?"

"Well, for one, he was never so enthusiastic about my interest in suicide." Dazai said this like it was a tedious inconvenience, but in his eyes it honestly probably was.

"He sounds like a sensible person," you told Dazai.

"He was pretty sensible, actually. He adopted some kids who were orphaned as a result of the Dragon Head Conflict."

"...the what?"

"You might not have been in Yokohama at the time- I'll explain it all later. Anyway, it was pretty gruesome, and a lot of people were slaughtered. Odasaku saved some of the children who were victims and helped raise them."

"That's so sweet. How are they now?" You asked.

A moment of silence passed.

"They were all killed, not long before Odasaku was."

You wondered if Dazai's past could possibly get any more tragic, before dismissing the thought. Absolutely, it could. Meeting Oda Sakunosuke was likely barely scratching the surface, but you felt that you were ready to learn everything about Dazai's story: even the more unpleasant aspects.

"That's awful...children being wrapped up in all this? That's sickening." You heaved, voice almost cracking. "I can't believe that you- and he...I'm sorry, Osamu. I wish I could have been there for you."

"...when he died, I think I was kind of mad at him, because at the time I felt like he was leaving me behind. I'm still here because of him, though, and for a long time it felt...almost pointless. Nobody was ever as important to me as he was until..." Dazai stopped himself, before drawing a silent breath. "Until I met you."

Something shifted within you, and you felt tears burn the lines of your eyes.

"Without Odasaku, I might not have met you. And I'd hate to think about how my life would be if that were the case." Dazai wrapped his arm around you and pulled you close, kissing the crown of your head. "I don't want to lose you, too."

You cast your misty eyes to the headstone, feeling almost as if it were staring right back at you. You gripped Dazai's coat as you hugged his torso.

"I don't wanna lose you either," you said, finally letting your tears spill down your face. The breeze whistled in your ear. "I don't know how I'd...I couldn't do it. Please, don't leave..."

"Of course I won't," he responded softly. "I'll always be there for you, my love."

Dazai eyed the name carved into the headstone once more as you quietly sobbed into his chest. His jaw tensed as his other arm enveloped your waist, pressing your smaller body to his. It almost felt to him as if he weren't just promising his love to you, but to Oda as well. He would do for you now what he couldn't do for him then, and this time he'd do anything to guarantee it.

i deadass can't remember if Oda's grave is atop a hill near the sea 💀 sorry if that's inaccurate. uhh just pretend for my sake pls. also i don't mean to make it seem like it was Dazai's fault Oda died? i just think in Dazai's mind that's probably how he feels to an extent. idk love you bye x

[mrs-barnes-rogers-writes]

Sometimes Your Soul Family Is The Only Family You Need - Part 5

Marvel AU

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader x Steve Rogers

Summary: 18 months ago you were a mess but with the help of your close friends you start to rebuild your life. Your soul friendships maybe chaotic but they're your family, just as you're theirs. With one of them about to have a baby, you and your misfit friends are here to visit. But will you stay? And what will the small town think of you having two soulmates and why do you keep finding yourself in the same place as a bunch of hot bikers.

"Sometimes families are assholes, sometimes your soul connections mean far more than family ever can. Sometimes your soul family is the only family you need." - Nurse Maggie

Chapter Warning: Premature labour mentioned, baby loss mentioned

Chapter Summary: The reader is processing that they may have seen their soulmate. Are two worlds about to collide?

By the time you leave the hospital Annemarie is in high spirits. Mostly because she's practically eaten a whole pie to herself, and because you’ve fallen on your ass trying to get on the hospital DVT socks up her legs, as Ryan had recorded the whole thing, but also as she has her soul family near. Daniel’s grateful, even if you have teased him and wound him up to the point that it feels like you’ve been there all day and it’s only been an hour.

Ryan is quick to befriend the hospital nursing staff as you found a doctor for a clear update and you both feel reassured that Annemarie and the baby are getting the best possible care.

You’ve also made a list of everything she wants doing at the house and it’s a lot. The baby’s room isn’t finished and there’s furniture to be delivered and built, baby clothes to be washed and more. Annemarie mentions a deep clean of the whole house and Daniel looks like he’s about to throw himself on the floor.

You add it to the list and both you and Ryan reassure her it’s all in hand. Wanda and Darcy will be here for a long weekend soon and it’ll all get done, one way or another.

When you slip back into the driver’s seat of your car, you let out an exhausted sigh. You snort with laughter when Ryan tells you he’s ready for bed.

“What? Napping in this passenger seat does not count as full sleep!”

You laugh and start the car, not noticing the redhead watching you both as you pull away.

When you arrive at the Airbnb, you find a cute welcome basket and a note from the owner to let her know if you need anything and that she hopes Annemarie is ok. Ryan giving the host your life stories had seemingly paid off as she’d supplied you with breakfast supplies for at least a couple of days, along with snacks and wine. The fridge also had milk and juices stocked inside. Ryan was quick to message her to say thank you as you ordered Chinese takeout for dinner.

You both knew each other well enough to know that if you sat down you’d fall asleep so you pushed through and busied yourself with bringing in your bags, getting unpacked and showering quickly. You were both in your PJs by the time the delivery guy arrived. Although boy would have been more appropriate and he blushed heavily when you’d open the door.

“Hi, I’m food, here’s your Peter. No that’s not right.”

You laughed as Ryan joined you at the door.

“Hi, I’m Peter, thank you for ordering with us. Here’s your food.”

“Thank you Peter.”

You paid for the food and included a generous tip. He looked you up and down, blushed and sped off down the path to his waiting moped.

“Poor kid. You’d think he’d never seen a girls legs before.” Ryan quipped.

“He probably hasn’t.”

You and Ryan ate in comfortable silence as your latest murder documentary played in the background.

“So tomorrow I’m thinking we start with the list and get the supplies, take them their clean stuff and figure out what we’re dealing with at the house. What do you think?”

“Agreed.” Ryan replied as he cleared away the plates as you stretched and yawned.

“Don’t fall asleep there.”

He knew you so well. You groaned and shuffled off to bed, as Ryan followed behind taking the room across from you. It didn’t take long for you to drift off, your dreams filled with blue eyes.

You’d slept solidly for a few hours when a dream you were having slipped into a nightmare. Blue eyes, two pairs, tender touches, a growing bump and then a baby in your arms. Then the touches and blue eyes were gone. The baby in your arms was disappeared to dust and you panicked, waking yourself as you started to cry and jumping up in the bed. You put a hand over your mouth to cover the sob that stuck in your throat. Once you’d steadied your breathing you’d kicked off the covers and sat on the edge of the bed. You listened out for Ryan hoping you hadn’t woke him but were met with silence.

It had been at least a couple of months since you’d dreamt of the baby and what could have been and you gave your face a frustrated rub. Your soul marks caught your eye and you looked at them rubbing your thumb over the letters.

S.G.R J.B.B

They still felt sore after yesterday and you thought again of the blue eyes and the biker they’d belonged to. You felt your letters tingle again as you heard a rumble of a motorbike. You jumped to your feet and tried to peek around the closed curtains. You watched as two bikers passed by. You couldn’t quite be sure if they were the same ones as yesterday but the burning in your arm told you one of them definitely was. You jumped back, paranoid that one of them had seen you and returned to the edge of the bed.

You stared at the floor for at least half an hour, trying to figure out what it all meant, before forcing yourself into the shower. By the time Ryan wandered down you had googled ‘how to know your soulmates are near’, ‘soulmate signs’ and ‘triad relationships’ at least three times. You were on your third tea, showered, dressed and ready to take on the day.

“Good morning Sleeping Beauty.”

“Haha.” Ryan replied dryly. “How long had you been up?”

“Not long.”

Ryan rolled his eyes, knowing you were lying from the pile of tea bags on the draining board alone. The bags under your eyes also confirmed it.

“I went over the list and the Airbnb lady messaged again. She recommended the hardware store down from the pie shop. Said to mention her and we’ll get a discount as they’re soul friends.”

“Small town, guess everyone knows each other one way or another.”

“Hmmmm” You replied.

“Ok, that’s enough of you bullshit missy. Spill it.”

“What?”

“Don’t what me with that fake surprise on your face. I know you.”

You shrugged.

“It’s two things. Either both or one.”

You remained silent and looked out of the window from your spot seated at the kitchen island.

“It’s the baby.”

“It’s not.”

“It’d be completely normal if it was.”

“It’s not.”

“Or it’s something to do with your soulmates."

Your eyes snapped to Ryan.

“What?”

“I saw your wrist in the bathroom before you put the band back on. Your letters were inflamed.”

“I, erm, I.......”

Ryan slipped onto the stool beside you.

“And inflamed letters mean they’re nearby.”

You began to sniffle and Ryan turned towards you, pulling you into his arms. He continued to rock and hold you, placing the occasional kiss to your head.

“I’ll listen when you’re ready.” He said. Ryan had learnt the hard way not to push you when you weren’t ready to talk and full of emotion. A habit of shutting down and walking or running away had grown worse since your break up with he who shall not be named.

You swallowed hard and began to move out of his arms. You had a hundred things swirling through your mind.

How would it work? Would they know each other? What if they hate each other? Are they both here? How does it really work? Like ALL of it? With three people?

Before you had chance to brain dump all over him your phone started to ring.

Daniel calling……

You picked up quickly and put it on speaker.

“Hey, everything ok?”

“No.” He sounded stressed. “The cramps have started again. They’re talking about giving her something to speed the baby’s lungs up.”

Ryan mumbled “shit” under his breath.

“OK. What do you need us to do? Do you want us there or to get the other things done?”

You heard him start to cry and mouthed to Ryan to get dressed. He moved quickly as you followed behind him reading an overnight bag for you both.

“Daniel. Breath. Take some deep breaths, ok?”

“I don’t know what to do.” He cried.

“Are you with her right now?”

“I’m in the hall. A nurse is with her, Maggie, I think.”

“OK. This is what we’re going to do.”

The call continued as you calmed Daniel down and took control of the situation as much as you could over the phone. You’d do some of the tasks they’d given you and split up the remainder over the next few days. You’d bring them clean clothes and a top up on toiletries, you’d call anyone that should be called, allowing Daniel to concentrate on Annemarie and the baby. Your last instruction was for him to go to the bathroom and splash his face with water and reassure Annemarie. Ryan entered the bedroom as you finished up the call. You’d never known him get ready so quick.

“We should pick up blankets and pillows in case we need to sleep on the floor.”

You nodded in agreement.

“I’ve got two yoga mats for us to sleep on as well. I left them in the car. Grab some of those danishes and a carton of juice we’ll have breakfast in the car. I’ll throw the bag in.”

Ryan nodded. You were always the friend everyone wanted in an emergency. You stepped up for him and the others in so many ways he couldn’t even explain. It was one of the reasons they rallied like they did when you were near to giving up. He couldn’t help but worry what this was doing to you though and if it would play with your emotions. Snapped out of his wandering thoughts by the sound of your car starting, he gathered up the breakfast supplies and left the house, locking the door behind him.

On route to town you continued to take charge of the situation. Passing your credit card to Ryan with an instruction to order premature baby clothes. You’d also managed to call Daniel’s mum, who was currently cruising around the Mediterranean with the rest of his family. You were thankful that Annemarie and Daniel had made the decision to drop out of the vacation once they’d realised how far along she’d be. The thought of this happening with them far away and on a cruise ship made your stomach turn. You’d also updated Wanda and Darcy, who’d immediately start packing and were on standby to bring forward their visit. Screw work, being the most used phrase. They were all going to be unemployed at this rate but you told them all not to mention it to Annemarie as she was already worried about Ryan’s possible lack of employment.

Pulling into a parking space outside the row of stores and spotting the town was bustling, even for a midmorning on a Saturday, you decided on a divide and conquer approach. Ryan would go and get more pie, you’d pick up the basic decorating supplies from the hardware store, then you’d meet back up at the sandwich shop.

You'd then stop by Annemarie and Daniel’s for their things and head to the hospital. Twenty minutes later though your plans would come to a drastic halt.

Meanwhile........

“Thanks guys. Have a good weekend.” Steve called as the others headed towards their cars and bikes.

“You say that like we’re not going to be hanging out in a couple of hours.” Clint laughed patting Steve’s shoulder as he went. Steve smiled back.

“I know, I know. Ermmm Clint, before you go, can I ask you something?”

“Sure, what’s up?”

“Soulmates.”

“Steve don’t.” Bucky interrupted.

“Did you see her again?” Clint asked.

“What? How do you know?” Steve asked, as he and Bucky shot Natasha an annoyed look.

“You don’t remember?” Clint asked. Steve shook his head in reply. “The end of summer barbecue at Thor’s last year?”

Steve glanced at Bucky.

“Don’t look at me. We weren’t talking that night, remember? You got wasted and fell asleep on the kitchen floor.” Bucky reminded him.

“You got really drunk and you cried to Laura about how you thought you’d seen her, your soulmate. You’d rode around looking, this idiot didn’t want to help you because he was still in his self loathing era.”

“Hey.”

“Just saying it how it is, well was. You didn’t mention it again. Laura and Nat said not to bring it up. Didn’t want you getting upset, none of us did.”

Steve nodded. Clint reached out and squeezed his shoulder.

“Soulmates can be a complicated business Rogers, even more so when there’s more than a couple of people in the mix, but we’re soul friends, brothers. You can ask me anything. What do you need to know?”

Steve nodded sheepishly and went to speak but was cut off by Bucky.

“I saw her. Well, I think I saw her last night.”

“You’re sure?” Clint asked.

“I felt it.” Bucky huffed “I know it’s weird. I don’t have her letters anymore, my arm, you know, but I saw her and I felt like my chest was on fire. When she looked at me, I knew, I knew it was her. I’m so fucking sorry Stevie.”

Tearful by the end, Bucky rubbed his face. Steve pulled him into a bone crushing hug as Natasha rubbed his back soothingly. Clint smiled at them softly as they parted.

“Ok, then let’s go find your girl.”

Fancy a cuppa? My Ko-Fi.

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