#a different friend and I did it blind right before this and figured out the whole thing as we went

[lunaritex]

𓏲࣪ ִֶָ ︎ִֶָ UNDER THE GLOVES 𖤐. — lee heeseung.

(๑>◡<๑) ৎ୭ lee heeseung + fem! reader co-workers to lovers office romance reader is part of the finance department brief appearances of the other members 𐙚 warning fighting, blood, violence, tooth-rotting fluff, confession, one kiss scene, someone save riki . . !? & 3930 — navigation

note. i like office romance and why not write something for the CFO aka lee heeseung haha... @riekiss

You let out a long and exhausted sigh, rubbing your temples as you looked away from the blinding screen of your computer. Hours had passed and you were still trying to figure out the solution for the problem you had encountered since eight in the morning. One glance at the time on the bottom right of the screen tells you it was close to five, which means you had wasted nearly the entire day wrecking your brain over a problem. You were tempted to slam your head against the desk, hoping the pain could make your brain cells come back to life. 

I need a break. 

Rubbing your eyes, you stood up and left your desk, heading to the pantry area to make a cup of much-needed coffee for yourself. You halted in your tracks when you realize someone was there before you. It was none other than the Chief Financial Officer of your company; Lee Heeseung. You remembered meeting him for the first time, back when you were still a newbie half a year ago. You remembered how you were practically trembling when your name was called and how you were instructed to see him in his office. 

Heeseung was not an intimidating person. You have seen how he interacts with his friends; Jay and Sunghoon. Both men were from different departments but they always had their lunch together and sometimes went drinking with other people who you do not recognize. However, a part of you finds him hard to talk to and if preferred, you would rather avoid him at all costs. You were not sure why you were acting this way. Perhaps it was due to your shyness or perhaps, it could be something more. 

“Oh, hi (Name), did you come here to catch a breather too?” Heeseung’s voice snapped you out of your trance. You blinked and saw your fellow co-worker leaning against the counter with a cup of freshly-brewed coffee held in his left hand. 

“Uh,” you opened and closed your mouth before regaining your composure, “yeah, I’ve been staring at the same sheet since morning and I’m nowhere done,” you sighed, entering the pantry to make a cup of coffee. 

The man gave you a sympathetic look as he took a sip from the paper cup. “That sounds rough, but I don’t mind helping you out. That is, if you don’t mind, of course.” 

You blinked, “A-Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to waste your time-” 

He dismissively waved off your response with his hand, “Nah, don’t worry about it. Besides, I don’t think helping a colleague out can be considered as wasting someone’s time. The sooner we get this done and over with, the sooner we can go home.” 

You knew he had a fair point with that and you ended up agreeing. The both of you returned to your desk and you watched as Heeseung sat on your chair, pulling himself forward to get a clearer look at the screen. You, on the other hand, stood behind him on his left, leaning against the wall that separates you from the other people seated around you. Since you were hidden from his view, this grants you the rare opportunity to stare at him.

It was with no doubt that Heeseung is attractive and you had seen how many women tried to woo him, be it during or after working hours. He is a gentleman who knows how to treat women right and not to mention, he is kind-hearted, friendly and the list goes on. Your eyes slowly trailed down his cheek outline and that was when you noticed it. 

A faint, tiny cut etched across his cheek, barely noticeable unless you looked closely. It was not the first time you had spotted something like this. A couple of weeks ago, it had been a bruise on his forearm, the yellowing edges suggesting it was healing. Before that, a small cut on his knuckles he brushed off as "nothing important." Each time, Heeseung had given you a vague response, quickly changing the subject or flashing his easygoing smile to disarm your curiosity. But this time, the suspicion gnawed at you a little harder.

Your gaze lingered on the faded mark, your mind racing with possibilities. Where did he keep getting these injuries? And why did he always seem so intent on hiding the truth behind them? As he straightened up and glanced at you with that ever-casual grin, you quickly looked away, pretending to focus on the computer screen. But the question had already planted itself firmly in your mind: What was Lee Heeseung hiding?

“...and that’s it. You just need to save it and you’re done for the day.” 

Heeseung’s voice snapped you back to reality. Blinking, you realized he had finished explaining and was looking at you expectantly. You felt embarrassed at how you were not listening to a single word he had said and you awkwardly cleared your throat. He sighed and light-heartedly rolled his eyes. 

“You weren’t listening, were you?” He questioned. 

“Uh, well,” you opened and closed your mouth, resembling a fish. The other chuckled and you regained your composure, feeling your ears heating up, “Sorry, I was lost in my own thoughts.” 

“It’s fine, I’m sure you must be tired. You can leave early if you want,” he proposed and you were about to protest but you were silenced when he raised his hand, stopping you as if he knew what you wanted to say. 

“And before you say anything, I insist. I’m your superior and the last thing I want is to find out one of my colleagues is forced to work overtime on a Friday. You should go home and rest,” his eyes softened, concern seeping into his voice. 

You ended up obeying him and you left the office, heading to the carpark where your car was parked. Once you got in and closed the door behind you, you let out an exhausted sigh as you leaned back into the seat, closing your eyes for a brief moment before reopening them. You started the engine, hearing the vehicle purring to life before driving home.

~ 

The second time you bumped into Heeseung was when you were trying to fix the printer. All you wanted was to print a few documents that you needed to compile together for the meeting today but just to your luck, the papers were stuck halfway. You sighed, kicking the printer in hopes of getting it to work despite knowing your attempt was futile. 

“(Name), why are you kicking the printer?” 

Jumping, you swirled around to see your superior looking at you, amused. You sheepishly scratched the back of your neck. “The papers I printed are stuck and I think the printer’s spoiled,” you replied, moving to the side when he drew closer. 

Heeseung hums, eyes focused on the machine. “Is that so? Let me take a look to see if I can help you with that.” 

“But-” You zipped your lips when he shot you a look and you allowed him to do as he pleased. 

He crouched near the printer, rolling his sleeves up as he fiddled with its inner mechanics, trying to resolve the problem. The soft glow of the overhead lights casts a gentle shadow across his face. As he shifts slightly, something catches your eye—a faint purplish mark peeking out along his jawline, just below his cheekbone.

Your brows furrow, the sight stirring a mix of curiosity and concern. It was not the first time you have noticed marks like this, and the coincidence feels too uncanny to ignore. This time however, you were determined to get answers. You cross your arms and step closer, tilting your head as you speak. 

“Heeseung,” you say, your tone carrying a hint of softness but also unmistakable firmness, “what happened to your jaw?”

Heeseung pauses, his fingers freezing mid-adjustment as if caught off guard. Slowly, he straightens up, brushing his hands off on his pants. His gaze flickers to you for a brief moment before darting away, his usual confidence replaced with a quiet hesitance.

“Oh, this?” He reaches up to touch the mark casually, almost as if just noticing it himself. A small, sheepish chuckle escaped his lips. “It’s nothing, really. I probably bumped into something—clumsy as always.”

But the way he avoids meeting your eyes, the slight delay in his response, feels off. You narrow your gaze, stepping a bit closer, determined not to let the matter drop so easily. 

“You bumped into something? Again?” you press, folding your arms tighter. “Heeseung, you’ve had a lot of these ‘accidents’ lately. What’s really going on?”

For a moment, he opens his mouth to respond, but then he hesitates, letting out a soft sigh. He scratches the back of his neck, his usual easy going demeanor faltering. “Look, it’s nothing serious, okay?” he finally says, his voice quieter now, almost defensive. “Just... drop it, alright?”

You frowned, getting annoyed with how he kept dodging your questioning but he had already left without saying another word. You remained where you were, watching his retreating figure until he was out of your sight. Sighing, you approached the printer and you noticed the documents you needed had been fully ejected from the printer. You grumbled a string of curses under your breath as you snatched them away, storming back to your seat and slammed it down on your desk. 

Bam! 

The sudden sound startled the people around you. Some gave you annoyed looks while some were curious, wondering what had happened to ruin your mood. Riki, who sat on your left, leaned back so his head was popping out. 

“You good?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. 

You looked at him and sighed, “No, I’m this close to losing my mind.” 

Your friend only flashed you a sympathetic look before returning to his task at hand. You took a sip of your now cold coffee, rearranged the documents and got back to work. 

Fine, if that’s how you want to play then two people can play that game. I’ll make sure I find out what you’re hiding, if that’s the last thing I do, Lee Heeseung. 

~

The rest of the week passed in a blink of an eye and it was finally Friday, much to your relief. It is a weekly routine for you to eat and drink with your small group of friends; Sunoo, Jungwon and Riki. The four of you graduated from the same college and to say you were surprised to see familiar faces in your company would be an understatement. You had finished packing, waiting for Riki who was ready to send his final email for the day before logging off. 

“So, where are we going tonight?” You asked, leaning back in your chair as you idly swayed side to side, legs outstretched before you. 

“Oh right, I forgot to tell you but there’s been a change of plans,” Riki answered, shutting down his laptop as he closes it before shoving it into his work bag. You stared at him, bemused and he continued, “Jungwon has invited us somewhere and we’re going there now.” 

You owlishly blinked your eyes. “Like right now?” 

“Yes right now,” Riki nodded, rising to his full height and dragged you out of your office. One moment you found yourself seated in his car and the very next moment, you found yourself standing before a pair of closed metal doors. 

The air was thick with the scent of sweat and adrenaline as you and Riki stepped cautiously into the dimly lit building. The door creaked shut behind you, its sound swallowed by the cacophony of voices and the rhythmic thud of gloves hitting flesh. Inside, the room was a stark contrast to the desolate streets outside.

It was alive—crowded with people of all kinds, from spectators yelling over the noise to fighters warming up in corners. Dim fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting an eerie glow over the chaotic scene. At the heart of it all was the boxing ring, its ropes frayed and canvas stained with years of battles fought and won.

As you tried to take it all in, your gaze wandered to the center of the ring. A match was already underway, the sound of rapid punches echoing through the room. It was not until the fighter ducked to avoid a hit, his sweat-dampened hair catching the light, that your breath caught in your throat.

It couldn’t be.

But it was.

Lee Heeseung—your superior, the same person who always seemed composed and meticulous at work—was in the middle of an intensive match. His usual buttoned-up demeanor was gone, replaced by a raw, almost primal intensity. His movements were sharp and calculated, each strike delivered with precision. Yet, even as he landed a clean hit on his opponent, his jawline bore faint bruises you now understood all too well.

“What the hell is he doing here?” you murmured, more to yourself than to Riki. 

You could not tear your eyes away from him, observing his movement as he delivers a final blow to his opponent, effectively knocking him out. The crowd went wild, cheering and yelling at the top of their lungs when Heeseung was announced as the winner. You saw how his eyes scanned the crowd and your heart stopped when they landed on you. He was stunned, not expecting to see you here and you looked away. 

The noise and heat of the boxing gym became too much, clawing at your chest like a vice. You turned abruptly, heart pounding, and pushed your way through the crowd. The voices around you blurred into a muffled roar as you stumbled out into the open, the cool night air hitting you like a slap to the face.

You kept walking, your steps uneven and aimless. The distant hum of streetlights and the faint echo of your own breathing filled the void left by the gym’s chaos. You didn’t know where you were going; you just needed to get away—to put as much distance as possible between yourself and the suffocating scene you’d just witnessed. But then, a sudden tug at your wrist stopped you in your tracks. Your body jerked backward slightly, and instinctively, you turned, your heart leaping to your throat.

It was Heeseung.

He stood there, chest rising and falling as he caught his breath, his face partially shadowed by the dim streetlights. Sweat clung to his skin, and his knuckles were faintly red—either from the match or the cold, you were not sure. His expression was unreadable, his dark eyes searching yours with an intensity that made you freeze.

“Why are you running?” he asked, his voice low and steady, but there was a crack in it—something vulnerable, almost desperate.

You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out. The raw image of him in that ring—fighting with a kind of ferocity you didn’t think he was capable of—flashed in your mind, and a knot of emotion tightened in your chest.

“I—” You looked away, shaking your head as you tried to find the words. “I couldn’t... I just needed to get out of there. I didn’t know you—” You stopped, your voice trembling. “Why didn’t you tell me, Heeseung?”

His grip on your wrist loosened slightly, though he did not let go. “Because it’s not something I wanted you to know,” he admitted, his tone quiet but firm. “This... this part of me—it’s messy. Complicated.”

“Complicated?” you repeated, your voice rising in disbelief. “You’re risking your health, your safety, and for what? To keep it a secret?”

Heeseung’s jaw tightened, the flicker of defensiveness crossing his face. “It’s not about keeping it a secret,” he said sharply, then paused, exhaling slowly. “It’s... it’s how I deal with things. It’s something I need.”

You stared at him, the weight of his words sinking in. The Heeseung you thought you knew—the calm, collected superior—felt like a stranger in that moment. And yet, there was something raw, something achingly human in his vulnerability that you couldn’t ignore.

“But why didn’t you let me in?” you asked softly, your voice breaking. “You didn’t have to go through this alone.”

His gaze softened, and for a moment, he looked as though he might say something—something real. But instead, he let out a soft, bitter laugh and looked away. “Because I didn’t want you to see this side of me,” he murmured, almost to himself. Then his eyes met yours again, and there was something in them—guilt, maybe regret. “I didn’t want you to think less of me.”

Your frustration bubbled over, and you yanked your wrist free from his grasp, stepping back to put some space between you. The cold air stung your cheeks, but it was nothing compared to the sting of his words. 

“Think less of you?” you repeated, incredulous. “Are you serious right now, Heeseung? You’re out here throwing punches like your life depends on it, shutting people out, and you think that’s what would make me think less of you?” 

Heeseung flinched slightly at your tone, but you did not care. The words poured out before you could stop them, each one fueled by the flood of emotions you had been holding back. 

“You’re supposed to be this confident, composed guy who always has it together, but you’re human! You’re allowed to have flaws, to struggle, to need help! God, do you think I care if you’re messy or complicated?” 

“(Name)-” 

“I care about you, okay? I care about you so much that seeing you in that ring—seeing you like that—hurt more than I can even explain! And the fact that you didn’t trust me enough to let me in, to tell me what you were going through, makes me feel like I’m nothing more than just some... some coworker to you!”

You froze the moment the words left your mouth, realizing too late what you’d just said. The confession hung in the air, raw and unfiltered, as the world seemed to go silent around you. Heeseung’s eyes widened slightly, the shock evident on his face. His lips parted as if to say something, but no words came. For a moment, the only sound was the faint hum of the streetlights and the distant buzz of the gym behind you.

“I—” you started, suddenly panicking, the weight of your vulnerability crashing down on you. “I didn’t mean—”

“Wait,” Heeseung cut you off, his voice soft but urgent as he stepped closer. His expression had shifted, the vulnerability you’d seen before now mixed with something else—something you couldn’t quite place.

“You... care about me?” he asked, his tone careful, as if testing the words.

Your heart raced, and you felt the heat creeping up your neck. You wanted to deny it, to brush it off, but the look in his eyes stopped you. It was a look that made you feel exposed but also strangely safe, like he was seeing all of you—the good, the bad, and everything in between—and wasn’t pulling away.

“Yes,” you admitted quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. “I do.”

Heeseung lets out a shaky breath, running a hand through his damp hair as a small smile tugged at his lips. “I don’t know how to say this right,” he began, his voice softer now, filled with hesitation. “But you’re... so much more to me than I think you realize. I’ve been scared—scared of what you’d think if you saw this side of me. Scared you’d look at me differently.”

Your chest tightened, but this time, it was not with frustration or hurt. It was something warmer, something that melted away the tension from before.

“I don’t care about that, Heeseung,” you said softly, your voice steady now. “I care about you. All of you. Messy, complicated, whatever. None of that changes how I feel.”

Heeseung blinked, his expression a mix of awe and relief, as if hearing those words for the first time lifted some invisible weight off his shoulders. His lips quirked into a small, genuine smile, one that reached his tired eyes.

“Why are you always so... amazing?” he muttered, almost to himself, as his hand hesitated in the space between you. Slowly, he raised it, brushing a strand of hair away from your face, his touch so gentle it made your heart flutter.

You let out a small laugh, feeling the tension dissolve into something light and tender. “Amazing? Says the guy who just beat someone to a pulp in a boxing ring.”

Heeseung chuckled, the sound soft and warm. “Yeah, well, that guy didn’t make me feel like my heart was going to explode every time I looked at him.”

Your cheeks burned at his words, and you playfully shoved his shoulder. “You’re such a dork, Lee Heeseung.”

“And you’re stuck with me now,” he teased, his grin widening, though his voice carried a hint of sincerity. The banter melted into silence as the both of you stood under the streetlights, the night air no longer feeling so cold. Then, as if drawn by some invisible force, Heeseung took another step closer, closing the gap between you.

“Can I...” He hesitated, his gaze flickering to your lips before meeting your eyes again. “Can I kiss you?”

Your heart skipped a beat, but you didn’t hesitate. “You better.”

A soft laugh escaped him before he leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a kiss that was equal parts gentle and fervent, like he’d been holding back for far too long. The world around you disappeared entirely, leaving only the warmth of his touch and the rapid beat of your heart. When you finally pulled away, Heeseung rested his forehead against yours, his smile so soft and tender it made your knees weak.

“I’m really glad you care about me,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin.

You grinned, your fingers lightly tracing the edge of his jawline. “I always will.”

~ 

The first person to find out about your relationship was Riki. The poor guy had gone to the pantry after coming to work at nine in the morning, only to drop his tumbler when he saw you and Heeseung making out in a public space. The horrified screech he let out made the both of you pulled away from one another, startled by his sudden appearance. You tried to pat down your hair but it was futile as Riki had unfortunately witnessed the whole scene. 

“Wait, Riki-” You called out. 

“Oh, Jungwon owns me lunch now,” he cackles like a maniac, bending down to pick up his tumbler. He was about to walk away when he turned to you. “Oh and congrats on your relationship but for God’s Sake, please do that nasty shit somewhere else.”

“RIKI!” You yelled, face turning as red as a tomato as he ran away while laughing. You sighed, turning to your superior who is also now your boyfriend, only to find him poorly hiding his laughter. 

“I didn’t know this is funny to you,” you deadpanned. 

“Sorry,” Heeseung coughs, running a hand through his unkempt hair. “Well, now that the cat’s out of the bag, how about we grab dinner tonight?” “Are you asking me out on a date?” You cocked your head to the side, grinning. 

“And what if it is?” He copies your action, resting one hand on your waist. 

“Then I accept but you’re paying, of course,” you replied, leaning in to press a kiss on the corner of his lips. 

“Anything for you.”

[asleepinawell]

@sntoot and I were 2-manning suzaku ex for the doggo mount and it is possibly my favorite trial in the game now. i already loved the normal version and the ex was even more fun and felt a lot like a dance. just thought i'd share even if most of y'all did it ages ago because it's so pretty and the music slaps and sometimes it's nice to enjoy fun things again vicariously

[jlheon]

୨୧ — hoodie (psh)

pairing. brothers bff! park sunghoon x fem! reader synopsis. you're going out & need a hoodie genre. fluff wc. 974 notes. ft. hee library.

“hee?” you called out as you walked down the hallway to your older brother’s bedroom. “can i borrow your black hoodie?”

twisting the door knob of heeseung’s room and bursting through the door. eyes naturally shifting to your older brother’s desk since he was always on his computer when he was home.

only to be met with an empty chair and a figure on the bed that was certainly not your brother.

“he’s in the shower,” the boy on the bed spoke up.

“oh thanks!” you smiled awkwardly, unable to recognize which one of heeseung’s friends was currently talking to you. “who are you?”

“you’re not wearing your glasses are you?” he got up from his spot on the bed and made his way towards you.

as the black-haired individual got closer your breath hitched. he stopped directly in front of you and towered over you. his hair slightly messy with bangs barely touching his eyes and glasses.

it was none other than park sunghoon.

“hoon?” you questioned, he looked extremely different from when you had last seen him.

his hair was shorter and looked nice enough that you could tell he had just cut it recently. it was fluffy and probably a little tangled, sticking up in some places around his head. though the glasses were completely new, you had never seen him wear any before.

“didn’t recognize me?” he let out a low chuckle, his voice making your stomach flip.

“you cut your hair,” you reached your hand up to his head attempting to smooth one particular strand that was poking out. “since when did you get glasses?”

“a couple of weeks ago,” he brought his hand up to bring down yours that was trying to fix his hair. sunghoon’s hand clasped around your wrist, keeping you from doing anything further to his newly styled hair. “why aren’t you wearing yours?”

“they’re in my room,” you said, eyes flickering to the light hold he had on you and then back up at him.

“you’re practically blind,” sunghoon joked. “how could you not recognize me?” he brought the hand that was holding your arm to his chest pretending you were stabbing him.

“you just look really different and blurry,” you defended yourself. “plus you are also blind now too if you need glasses!”

“it’s a stylistic choice ____,” he dropped the grip on your arm, removing the glasses from his face, and placed them on your face. “they’re fake.”

you looked around the room to see that your vision had not at all been affected by his glasses. everything looked just as fuzzy as before.

“you said you needed a hoodie?”

that was right. you got so distracted by sunghoon’s new look that you forgot that hyeju was on the way and probably almost at your house. you were wasting time, but you couldn’t help but gush in your head about how pretty sunghoon looked.

you took his glasses off and placed them back on the bridge of his nose.

“yeah i have to leave soon but hee’s not out yet.”

“why don’t you just wear mine,” sunghoon suggested.

you moved your gaze from his face down to his hoodie. it was plain black, nothing special but you must admit it looked comfortable. but maybe the fact it belonged to sunghoon made it more appealing to you.

“are you sure?” you asked meeting his eyes again.

instead of answering you, he stepped back slightly from you and held the bottom of his sweater. as he removed the garment over his head you couldn’t help but notice when his shirt got caught, lifting and revealing a faint glimpse of his abs. heat rushing to your cheeks.

“here,” he said once he finally had the black hoodie off completely.

he saw the remnants of blush that spread on your cheeks and laughed. you stood there unmoving, causing sunghoon to raise the hoodie to your head and put it on for you.

you poked your arms through the sleeves while still keeping eye contact with him. putting the piece of clothing on caused your hair to get staticky, so sunghoon returned your gesture from minutes before and combed his fingers through it to smoothen it out.

“thanks, hoon,” you finally spoke. “are you still going to be here when i get home so i can give it back to you?”

“probably,” he started. “but you can keep it, you look cute.”

again you felt heat rush up your neck and spread past your cheeks. you let out a nervous smile as you fiddled with the sleeves. the smell of his cologne wafted off the material and filled your senses. 

sunghoon gave you a brief pat on your head and ruffled your hair. the moment quickly turned into a comfortable silence with his fingers still running through your hair.

the sound of your phone ringing in your back pocket broke the silence between the two of you. hyeju was probably outside waiting for you.

“bye hoon!” you yelled walking out of the bedroom and down the stairs. “thanks for the hoodie!”

“don’t forget your glasses ____,” he reminded you.

sunghoon watched as you emerged back from the stairs, and back into your room on the opposite end of the hall.

heeseung had stepped out of his bathroom and caught a glimpse of you in a hoodie that was neither yours nor his. he looked over to see sunghoon was now clad a plain white t-shirt, recalling that he had been wearing a hoodie when he had gone to shower.

“why is my sister wearing your hoodie?” heeseung raised an eyebrow at his friend, ruffling his hair with the towel around his neck.

“why not?” sunghoon smiled, going back to rest on heeseung’s bed.

heeseung let out a loud sigh and threw his wet towel at sunghoon’s head.

[heechwe]

dancing with our hands tied ↦ sjy

⋆ pairing: sim (jake) jaeyun x fem!reader ⋆ word count: 7.7k ⋆ genre: semi-angst, fluff, smut (18+/mdni!) ⋆ tags: brothersbsf!jake, minor age difference, college au, friends with benefits, secret relationship, light choking, semi-public sex, oral (f + m receiving), fingering penetration, unprotected sex (please practice safe sex folks). ⋆ synopsis: What began as a simple friends-with-benefits situation with your brother's best friend has turned into something deeper, and you now find that your emotions are more complicated than you initially thought. ➸ bless @temptaetions for giving me so much amazing dialogue to work with and @sweetvenomnet for getting me through finishing this monster!

You did not envision Sunday morning sitting across from your brother, concealing the bottom half of your body with your comforter and Jake next to you in bed. Jay’s face is a jumble of shock and anger, fists balled at his sides. You’re unsure if he’s ready to kick his best friend’s ass or throw him out by his neck, or both.

“How the fuck did this fucking happen,” Jay yells.

Well, you think, the beginning is a lot easier to explain than where we’re at now…

The first night you slept with Jake six months ago was like any other. Jay, your older brother by two years, was home with his best friend for the weekend. They had bonded over their freshman year as dorm buddies and Jay immediately inserted Jake into the family. “He’s like the brother I never had,” Jay would say when people would comment on them being attached at the hip.

It was not unusual for the two of them to stay over at your parents’ house when they were back in town. The university was more than three hours away. If they tried to drive home the same day, it would only end in a headache thanks to the rush-hour traffic. 

It was nice to see Jay succeeding though, his footsteps being ones you’d hope to follow in one day. He had it all figured out, while you were anything but decided. Still unsure about what to do now that you had graduated, you chose to stay home and attend community college in the meantime.

But Jay occasionally being back in your presence meant he had to fulfill his annoying brotherly roles, like boring you with tales of campus and admonishing you for risqué outfit choices.

Like that night.

He stopped you short at the door with judgmental eyes scanning up and down your dress. “Absolutely not.”

You scoffed and pushed him out of your way. The dress hugged your curves just right and the color fit your aestethic. You knew when you bought it that the length wasn’t ideal for everyday wear, but it was perfect for a night out. Jay wouldn’t tell you otherwise. “You don’t have to act like Dad, dude.”

“Listen,” he said, rolling his eyes. “We all know you’re a woman. You don’t need to prove it with a little black dress.”

“Unless you’re blind, this dress is blue,” you mocked him.

“You know what I mean, smart-ass! You’re not leaving wearing that!”

“What’s going on,” Jake called from the kitchen.

“My sister’s about to walk out of the house in a napkin,” Jay responded, sarcasm dripping from his mouth.

“You’re such a prick,” you said, crossing your arms.

Jake sauntered into the sitting room, a bag of chips in his hand. He was taken back by the outfit, his eyes slowly trailing down your body. His Adam’s apple bobbed as Jay continued on his tirade about modesty to nobody but the air.

“You look pretty,” Jake said finally. He popped a chip in his mouth.

Your cheeks turned red instantly. Jay’s best friend wasn’t unattractive to look at, not in the slightest, so hearing him say such a thing even in quick passing made your body tense.

Before you could thank him for the compliment, Jay coughed like he swallowed his own spit.

“Did you just say she looks pretty?” Jay asked in his best friend’s direction.

Jake chomped down on another chip. “What,” he said, his mouth full.

“If I heard that right, you just said my sister looks pretty in her dress.”

“Yes?” Jake’s expression morphed into confusion as your brother’s face went pale.

“Do you have a death wish?” Jay asked.

“Bro, c’mon—”

“No, seriously. Do you?”

You backed up towards the door, making sure not to clack your heels too hard on the tile to be noticed.

Jay, however, sensed your escape. “I meant it! You’re not leaving without putting something else on.”

“Seongie, stop being an asshole. I’m gonna be late,” you whined.

“Dude, all I said was that she looked pretty,” Jake butted in.

Jay turned his focus back to him. “You said the girl you fucked at that club on Fifth was pretty.”

“Bro, I’m not gonna fuck—” Jake ran his free hand through his hair, smiling in incredulity at the ridiculous conversation. “Just trust me.”

“Finish that sentence.”

Jake scoffed, mouth agape. “What the hell, man?”

“Finish. The. Sentence. Jaeyun.”

“Okay, if you’re done being weirdly overprotective and Jaeyun’s done taking back his compliment, I have a happy hour to go to.”

Jay was so preoccupied with Jake at that point that he barely registered your words and your exit from the house. Before he could protest again, Jake interrupted him.

“I’m not going to fuck your sister, Jong,” he says.

“Thanks, that’s reassuring,” Jay responded.

As you closed the door, you heard Jake say, “But if she fucks me, that’s a different story.”

Despite walking down the cobblestone pathway, you heard Jake’s cries from your older brother whacking him. Jay screamed, “You sick fuck!”

Your cheeks felt hot when you finally got inside of your friend’s car. You greeted them with a smile when you sat in the back seat, but your mind kept playing back Jake’s words. He must have had enough pickings on campus and in his hometown to keep him satisfied. He didn’t need to put his effort or interest in you. There’s no way that he would, right?

Five hours later, the clock just shy of 1 AM, you stepped quietly inside to not wake your parents. Tiptoeing up the stairs to your room, you didn’t see Jay’s bedroom light on, certain he was fast asleep. That gave you some relief knowing he didn’t stick around to admonish you for not listening to his forceful advice.

What you weren’t expecting was Jake to be sprawled out on your bed, his body akin to a limp starfish. He had been scrolling endlessly through his Instagram feed until you creaked open the door to your room.

A silent scream jolted your pulse. “Jaeyun, what the fuck are you doing here?” you asked.

“Jongseong told me to wait for you. He wanted to make sure you got home safe,” Jake said absentmindedly, like being in your bed is a natural occurrence by now.

You suppressed the urge to roll your eyes. “Helicopter Himbo couldn’t do that himself?”

“He linked up with some girl he knows…Dahyun I think was her name?”

You sighed. Of course Jay had to hook up with his high school ex when he had no other options to exhaust. You thought Jay had higher standards than that at this point in his life, but he was still Jay.

You nodded. The soles of your feet throbbed from wearing your heels longer than you intended to. You tried to hide the pain on your face, but Jake was quick to walk over to you and feign concern.

“You okay?” He asked.

“Yeah. I’m just slightly buzzed and I’d like to see the inside of my eyelids and forget how bad my feet hurt right now.” You released a breathless laugh. “You can text my doofus of a brother and tell him I’m in one piece.” 

You practically motioned your head towards the door, but Jake only smirked in response.

“Well, first things first, let’s take these off.” Before you knew it, Jake leaned down and began unbuckling the clasps of your stilettos for you. The sight made the alcoholic buzz running through your veins mutate into something sensual. You felt the ache between your legs as Jake’s fingers caressed the skin of your ankle as he was taking off your shoes for you, and immediately you remembered who he was.

This was wrong, and in no way going to happen. Not with someone who your brother confided in and loved so dearly. No matter how it felt every time you looked at him, or if he did intimate things like this that made you question everything.

“I meant what I said earlier you know,” Jake whispered. “And I wasn’t trying to take it back when Jongseong was grilling me about it.”

“I get it. He can be intense sometimes,” you mumbled.

“But you did look pretty. Fuck, you still do.” Jake chuckled to himself and positioned your feet out of the shoes and onto the carpet floor. The fabric felt cool against your toes, and instinctively you released a pleasurable sigh.

“So much better,” you moaned, smiling. “Thank you.”

Jake stood up, his grin infectious. “My pleasure.”

Neither of you moved, and admittedly you were glad Jake hadn’t made his exit yet. In the blur between your gratitude and onslaught of confusing feelings, the tether between your head and your body loosened. 

Then you were kissing him. You were kissing your brother’s best friend and enjoying it very much, an amalgamation of all the passing glances you threw at him when Jay wasn’t looking and the semi-flirty conversations coming to a head in your lips and tongue.

Jake was kissing you back with the same fervor, his hands roaming to the curve of your ass and groaning in your mouth at the sensation of your bodies touching.

“Fuck,” Jake swore and pulled you in tighter, clutching at the hem of your dress.

In a tangle of fingers and lips, you almost didn’t register the feeling of your mattress against your back and the cool air on your skin when Jake pulled the dress down your body. But you did relish in the feeling of his tongue between your legs and how deliciously he slipped inside of you afterwards. And by that point, there was no time to regret and worry about what would happen next. All that mattered was the present and savoring it.

Three weeks after that first encounter, it was easy to forget it ever happened. The next morning, Jay and Jake had gone back to campus without a word. That was normal for them, seeing as they woke early and didn’t want to disturb anyone in the house.

For you, it was a bit disheartening, but it proved exactly what you knew. It was a mistake and a potential repeat was nonexistent. “Jeong’ll never find out and this can stay buried,” you told yourself.

Jay was too busy with his studies to respond with anything but one-word answers to your texts after that, so you gave up initiating anything. Jake, however, began texting you often to either greet you in the morning or say he hoped you were having a good day. It was sweet, but you didn’t read too deep into it. You replied in kind and left it at that.

Then, the boys came back one Friday afternoon in Jake’s Tahoe, and your nerves were live wires at their impromptu arrival. You had not seen Jake since that night in your bedroom. You felt the heaviness of guilt when you welcomed Jay home with a hug. A secret shouldn’t have had the power to eat you alive,  but it did all the same.

And it didn’t help seeing Jake either. His smile took you back to the hours you had spent together in your bed. It was a kaleidoscope of memories. His hands on your hips, his whispers in your ear, his mouth in between your legs— 

“Yo!” Jay waved his hand in front of your face. “I asked if you could help us with the last duffel bag.”

“Yeah, of course,” you said, walking over to the trunk. Jake’s shoulder brushed yours as you moved past him, and you couldn’t help the way your breath hitched. If you weren’t deluding yourself, you could’ve sworn you heard his throat catch in the same way.

You decided to leave the house that night, meeting up with a classmate to take your mind off of what was waiting at home. The Uber driver was polite, not bothering you as you were lost in your thoughts. Thankfully, the tequila sunrise you gulped down numbed your thought processes long enough that you could unwind and converse without rambling on about the situation you were in.

Then, you heard the ping of your phone and saw Jake’s message light up the screen.

Received at 11:23 PM: I’m picking you up. JS doesn’t want you taking an Uber when you’re not sober.

You sighed and typed back a reply with the hand not holding your drink. The words might have been mistyped, but you knew the message would get across to him.

Sent at 11:27 PM: im find u dont ned to come th last guy w nice.

Received at 11:29 PM: Sure. I’ll be there in 15.

You groaned. Jake could be as stubborn as your brother; it was no surprise the two of them became such good friends.

When Jake’s arrival came closer, you said goodbye and walked out of the bar, kicking your feet on the sidewalk gravel while you waited.

His truck’s lights came into full view a minute later. You got inside without a word, leaning your forehead against the passenger window. Just because he was being stubborn didn’t mean you had to be okay with it.

“Have fun?” Jake kept his focus on the road, but he sounded sincere when he asked about your night. While your heart swelled at the tone of his voice, it made the thoughts you tried so hard to suppress creep back in with full force. You were at a loss as to what to say. Honesty was off the table, but you weren’t capable of pulling your heart from your sleeve.

“I was. Not anymore.” You pouted.

You didn’t let him respond to your comment, instead looking around at his car’s interior and changing the subject. “I didn’t expect you to own a Tahoe.”

“What do you mean?” He asked with a chuckle.

“It’s so much space for one person.”

“Well, it was my dad’s truck. He gave it to me before I left for school. Now, I use it to go hiking and stuff with my dog, Layla.”

You smiled and leaned into the seat, looking at him. “That’s hard to believe.”

“That I have a dog or that I actually do physical activity? You’ve seen my body.”

You giggled and turned away. “I guess both. I’ve always wanted a dog, but Jungseong’s allergic. My parents thought plushies were a good compromise. And it all makes sense now. You can’t be that handsome naturally.”

Jake laughed harder. Without warning, he put his hand on your thigh, the feeling foreign yet incredibly welcome. You hummed in pleasure at the sensation. While you would’ve loved to enjoy the moment, your logic kicked in at the scene playing out in front of you.

“Jaeyun, you can’t just do that.”

“Why not? I wanted to,” he confessed, squeezing the curve of your knee. He moved his hand slowly across your skin.

You bit your lip and shook your head. “Just because you want to doesn’t mean you should.”

“Are we still talking about my hand or something else?” You gave him a stern but cutting look, the Are you kidding me evident in your eyes. It made Jake curse into the open air. “Fuck this.”

Jake pulled off into a vacant parking lot of a convenience store, one lamppost barely lighting the surrounding area. He put the car in park with an aggressive fist on the stick shift.

“Okay,” he started. “You want to talk about that night? Let’s talk about it.”

He inhaled a breath. You were terrified of what was unsaid and what he planned on saying, but you knew it was better to put it to rest sooner rather than later.

“I’m not sorry for what happened that night. I liked it and I liked you.” He looked directly into your eyes, his pupils dilating with extreme vulnerability. “I like you. And I’d like to repeat that night as many times as you want, but you’re my best friend’s sister and I don’t know how to accept those two things being true at once.”

You were taken back, his words the ones you wish you could have said to him before he left that morning. You tried to stamp down the truth many times since then, but Jake feeling the exact same way made you realize it wasn’t wrong to want what you wanted.

And Jay didn’t have to know everything.

“I do too,” you responded. “I like you too, and that night is all I’ve been thinking about.” You felt the knot in your stomach loosen, smiling in surprise from his confession. “And I would like to have more of those nights, for sure. In more than just my bed.”

Jake smirked and leaned in closer to you, lips ghosting over yours. “So if I said I wanted to fuck you in my car, you’d let me?”

You didn’t respond to that question with words, both of you knowing the question itself was rhetorical. You pressed your mouth to his hard.

The kiss was a clash of teeth and tongue, the act a desperate plea to pull each other closer after weeks of not being together. Now that you had Jake where you wanted him, you weren’t letting him go. 

Jake palmed one of your breasts over your shirt, and you partially broke away from his mouth to moan. He swallowed it, tugging on your bottom lip with his teeth.

“You like that?” Jake asked, his voice husky.

“Fuck yes,” you said, knowing it was the truth. Nothing felt better than his touch on your skin.

He grabbed the side of your throat with his free palm. The other was hovering over the waistband of your shorts, his thumbs deftly unbuttoning them and dragging the zipper down.

“Tell me now if you don’t want this,” he panted. “And I swear I’ll stop.”

You shook your head vigorously. “If you stop right now, Jaeyun, I might just have to kill you.”

Jake gave you a crooked smile and kissed you again, harder than the first time but just as pleasurable.

His fingers dipped into your underwear, and you both groaned when he found your clit. He was surprised that the little amount of foreplay already made you this wet. You were just glad to have his fingers where you needed them the most.

You moved your hips in rhythm with his digits, the figure-eight patterns he was drawing into your skin creating stars behind your eyes. You released numerous whimpers and gasps into Jake’s mouth as he kept rubbing up and down your pussy, your clit receiving the most attention.

But it wasn’t enough.

“Jaeyun, I need you inside of me, please,” you begged. You gripped onto his shirt tightly to emphasize how bad the desire was to feel him stretch you open.

He nipped your lips again. “Climb in the back seat, baby.”

Jake followed in suit as soon as you moved from the passenger seat to the back. Once he sat down, you had his pants around his ankles and the head of his dick lined up with your entrance, your panties moved to the side to make room for him.

The fullness of his cock filling you to the hilt made your eyelids flutter. Jake knocked the back of his head into one of the headrests, the groan that left his mouth so beautiful you wished you could’ve replayed the sound on loop.

“God, you’re so tight.” He pushed his hips up further into you, the tip kissing your cervix. “It’s fucking incredible.”

You moaned in agreement. Beginning to grind his hips into yours, you licked and sucked the spot behind Jaeyun’s ear. You remembered how much he loved it the first night you had sex, and he loved it even more now that you were partially in control riding him.

He bucked up into you here and there, but for the most part, you were setting the pace. The sounds of your skin slapping against each other as well as both of your moan-laced expletives filled the back seat.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Bounce on this cock. Show me how much you want me.” He trapped your hips with his hands, holding on tight as you continued to grind against him.

“I want to come so bad, Jae,” you gasped. “Please make me come.”

Jake took his index and middle finger and found your clit again. He circled the nub with tenderness as you continued to ride him without mercy. He knew he could come at anytime with how well you were touching him and taking all of him inside of you, but he had no problem waiting until you found your pleasure first.

You felt the orgasm creeping up on you, starting in the pit of your stomach and ready to come to the surface. You begin to grow sloppy with your rhythm, and Jake took extra effort with his fingers to push you over the edge.

“Let go for me, love. Come all over me.”

You cried out, clutching onto Jake’s hair hard as you rode out your orgasm to its full capacity. Jake let go in that same moment, painting your insides white and cursing the entire time at how good it felt.

When you sat down next to him in the back seat, both of you sated and breathless, you knew the path forward was uncertain. And sure, a million questions still lingered in your mind, but you stored them away without a second thought, refusing to let them ruin your current happiness.

This led to where you were with Jake for the past six months, having sex every time he was in town and even sneaking off to visit him when you had the chance. He would pick you up in his truck and hold your hand across the console the entire drive to and from his student apartment. The two of you were skilled at keeping your trysts out of sight from Jay both in your hometown and on campus, the local spots he wanted to take you to and your favorite hometown stores not ones Jay frequented often.

At the same time, Jay had gotten back into a relationship with Dahyun, but you were optimistic for the both of them this time around. He seemed to be really happy, as were you, although he didn’t know the reason why. Dahyun would hang out with the guys and you when she got off work, and the four of you would drink and watch movies together like any other couples would.

The only part that didn’t fit such a picture perfect image was the fact you and Jake were not a couple at all. You slept together and did most things boyfriends and girlfriends did, but there were no labels. It was as if saying it out loud would make it real, and then you’d have to confront the biggest hurdle of all: telling your brother. And you were determined to put that off for as long as possible.

One morning, as you made breakfast in the kitchen for all three of you, Jake slid in behind you without you noticing. You gasped, feeling his chest against your back. “Jae, you can’t do that!”

“Couldn’t help it. Smelled pretty good in here,” Jake responded, kissing the spot that joined your neck and shoulder together, his hair tickling your ear in the process.

“I know, I can’t wait to eat it.”

“I was gonna say the same thing.” Jake smirked.

“Jae,” you reprimanded him, grinning. “Jongseong could come down at any second.”

“But he’s not. Last time I checked, he was still asleep.” The curve of his lips touched your collarbone, making you shiver.

“And when was that?”

In that moment, you both heard Jay yelling “I did it!” in tandem with his quick steps down the staircase. You both split apart in record time. Jake pretended he was searching for a drink in the fridge while you flipped the fried egg in the pan.

“I finally did it,” Jay exclaimed, a wide smile on his face directed at Jake.

“Did what?” Jake asked.

“I got you a date with Dahyun’s cousin Jihyo tonight. Dahyun’s been dying to go out to this new restaurant downtown, and I know you’ve been lacking in the pussy department lately.” You felt the saliva in the back of your mouth hit the wrong pipe, and you coughed.

“You okay, sis?” Jay asked, grabbing you by the shoulder.

“Yeah. Just choked for a second, sorry.” There was nothing wrong with Jake going out; he had no obligations to you. Yet, at the same time, the thought of him finding someone new felt like acid on your tongue.

Jay turned back to Jake, excitement filling his features again. “Come on man, you haven’t picked anyone up in what? Five months? Either your game got terrible or you’ve been holding out on me about some new chick.”

You plopped the fried egg on the plate next to you and motioned for Jake to pick it up. “Over medium, how you like it.”

“How do you know his egg order, freak?” Jay questioned you with a chuckle.

“I asked him this morning, dingbat. While you were snoring in your room and told me to leave so you could get your beauty rest.” Jay gave you the middle finger but you didn’t pay attention to him. You looked back at Jake with shy eyes. “You want toast?”

“No thank you,” Jake said with a smile that didn’t meet his eyes. You could tell when Jake was uncomfortable. His entire body grew stiff at the thought of being roped into a double date with a stranger.

But, avoiding suspicion, Jake said, “Sure man. Can’t promise I’ll be into her, though.”

Jay smiled and patted his friend on the shoulder. “I’ll take it.”

When Jay ran back upstairs to call Dahyun with the news, Jake dropped his plate back on the counter. He suddenly pinned you against it with his hands on your waist, forcing you to look at him. “I don’t have to go on this date if you don’t want me to.”

You shook your head, the faintest frown on your face, hoping it looked more like an expression of indifference. “If you don’t, Seongie’s going to ask more questions. Besides, we’re not together. You don’t have to ask for my permission.”

“That’s not what I’m doing.” He furrowed his eyebrows. If there was one emotion you didn’t show him often, it was ice. But if the alternative was being emotionally exposed in that moment, you would choose the former.

“You know what I mean.” You broke free from his grasp, swallowing the bitter taste in your mouth. You turned off the stove and threw the sizzling pan into the sink. “Hope you have fun.”

Jake waited for you to elaborate, but after a minute of silence, he admitted his defeat and walked out of the kitchen. It cracked a piece of your heart to be so cold, but what other choices were on the table?

Once he was gone, you grabbed your phone from your pocket. Typing out the number in your mind and pressing the call button, you hoped the man you were looking for answered.

“Sunghoon?” You spoke, relieved he picked up. “I need a huge favor.”

“Do I have to?” Sunghoon groaned, straightening the collar of his polo shirt. “This is so ridiculous.”

“Hold my fucking hand, Hoon, or I swear to god I will tell Professor Choi you used my essay on Machiavelli for your paper.”

He released a low, agitated sound and put his hand in yours, squeezing your palm in retaliation. You smiled and walked into the restaurant. 

You didn’t go all out with your outfit. A simple dress and denim jacket fit with the atmosphere of the Brazilian barbecue joint Dahyun wanted to check out. Sunghoon also followed your instructions to the letter, looking presentable without trying too hard.

The hostess made you both wait fifteen minutes or so for a table. Even at 9 PM on a Saturday, past normal dinner time for most folks, the business was still bustling due to the word of mouth from their grand opening a week ago. It didn’t take long though for you to find Jay and Jake sitting at a table in a corner booth. It was like Jake’s presence in any tiny or expansive space was a magnet, pulling you in without giving you space to put up a fight.

“So that’s the guy,” Sunghoon stated, staring at Jake next to your brother. “He’s cute. I see why you’re in love with him.”

“Shut up!” You laughed and smacked him in the chest. He pretended to act hurt, smiling the entire time.

Your Humanities classmate might have been too sarcastic and vain for his own good, but you knew he was a good friend and would always come if you called. And while it was purely platonic, he didn’t mind playing the part of the arm candy for another free essay.

In the midst of your shared laughter, neither of you saw both Jay and Jake walking over to you. Jay’s cough pulled you out of your trance, and you stood stock still at the sight of Jake’s clenched jaw and crossed arms, immediately dropping Sunghoon’s hand in the process.

Jay said your name in annoyance. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Hoon and I have class together, but we decided to have dinner after studying,” you say with a smile. “Funny we’d be at the same place as you guys!”

“You have my location, dipshit,” Jay said with a stone face.

“Just because I have it doesn’t mean I look at it,” you said in your defense.

Hoon held his hand out to both men, but you knew it was bait specifically meant for Jake. “Nice to meet you.”

Jake clenched his jaw even tighter. You thought he would break the bottom half of his face if he kept it up. To your surprise, he grabbed Sunghoon’s hand like a pure gentleman. Jay did the same.

You immediately felt so small. It didn’t have to be this way, trying to pull a front for this guy that wasn’t even yours. If it took this much effort to be exclusive, a title you didn’t fight for to begin with, maybe it wasn’t meant to be.

When Sunghoon let go of Jay’s hand, you grabbed him by the bicep. “We can just go somewhere else. We’ll probably wait another hour before getting a table if we stay, anyway.”

Jay agreed. “I had to book this in advance, so she’s probably right.”

Jake looked directly in your eyes when he said, “Hope you have fun.” Mirroring your words from earlier, Jake’s were laced with spiteful sarcasm.

Sunghoon put a hand on the small of your back and guided the two of you out of the restaurant. It took everything in you to not turn back and reveal it all in that stupid restaurant, but you circled back to your initial thoughts. What would it do attempting to claim him now? It was already pointless.

You didn’t make it home until midnight, spending the night scarfing down Chinese with Sunghoon in his apartment and watching old seasons of New Girl together. It was a bitch thinking about what it would be like when you got home. Jay would quiz you on Sunghoon and his motives or Jake would get defensive on what you were doing with the guy to begin with. Or both.

The last piece of advice Sunghoon left you with as he drove off was to “be honest” with Jake, if that was any bit as simple as it sounded coming out of his mouth.

You stepped inside your house without a care for your noise level, knowing your parents were off on an overseas conference for four days. And what were the chances the guys had gotten home by now?

 But, like the first night you had spent together, Jake was waiting up for you in your room, sitting stock straight with his hands in his lap.

You didn’t freak out or feel shocked by his presence. You were glad to see him actually, but greeting him with anything but a hello would have been inappropriate given the last few hours.

“Hi,” you began.

“Why have you been gone so long?” His voice was clipped, matter-of-fact but laced with authority. The mixture of sadness and anger in his face surprised you. Jake was always fun, silly, casual…never like this.

“I lost track of time.” It was the easiest answer to give him, even if it wasn’t enough to assuage his concerns. “We just ate takeout and watched sitcoms.”

He nodded and stood up. Walking closer to you, the emotions on his face registered to you so clearly now. The anger was simply misplaced pain, unsure where to go but in front of you for an answer. “What do you want from me?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m asking you what this is, what are we doing here?” He ran a hand through his hair. “Seeing you tonight with that dickhead was all I thought about while eating that churrasco and listening to Jay’s dumb jokes. And if that’s against some unspoken rule, I need to know.”

You gulped down a heavy bubble of air. It was now or never. Choose to either lose the guy you had spent so much time with by keeping your feelings to yourself or risk him breaking your heart by being vulnerable.

“I don’t want you going on dates with anyone else.” You beginning with that wasn’t perfect, but you were out of ideas.

He nodded. “Okay.”

“Sunghoon’s a friend, but you’re my best friend. And you make me feel like nobody else ever has.” Your lip quivered. “I feel like an idiot for not saying it before, but I’ve liked you since the second Jay introduced all of us to you. And maybe all you want out of this is exclusive sex and I’m even more of an idiot for saying all of this but—”

Jake caught your mouth in a perfect kiss, effectively shutting you up. A tear passed between your lips, but he was all you tasted. He pressed his forehead to yours, eyes bright and expression full of mirth. “You’re a beautiful idiot, but still an idiot for not realizing I feel the same..”

You gasped. Grabbing his shirt, you pulled him back in hungrily.

The subsequent kisses and touches were ripe with the things you didn’t know how to say in words but could easily express with your body. Every kiss on his jaw told him how enraptured he made you feel. Each pass of your hands exploring his naked skin expressed why you saw nobody but him in the most crowded room. And when you took him into your mouth, you hoped Jake knew why it was so easy to fall for him and want nobody else.

“Just like that,” he said, tenderly grabbing your hair as you stroked what you couldn’t fit past your lips.

It didn’t last long. Jake pulled you in his arms and said, “I want to be inside you.” 

Jake held you as you sunk down onto him. Your legs were wrapped around his waist as he sat on the edge of the bed, rocking his hips up into you. No matter how many times you had sex, it still felt incredible feeling all of him fitting around the spaces inside of you. You wished he could occupy them forever.

“Fuck,” you exclaimed, clutching the hair at the nape of his neck. Your bodies were slick, foreheads touching but slippery from perspiration.

But it didn’t matter how loud you were being or how sweaty your skin became. All you could focus on was the words that came out of Jake’s mouth. “God, I love you so much.”

It didn’t make you slow down, instead riding him faster and kissing him fervently in response. You mewled into his mouth, feeling yourself coming undone quickly.

“I’m gonna come,” you announced.

“Right there with you, sweetheart. Come with me,” he said, and so you did. You felt the warmth of him inside of you in tandem with the downfall of your orgasm, siphoning every drop until you were spent.

When you were lying next to each other, however, you remembered those three little words that slipped from his mouth.

“You said you loved me,” you stated in post-coitus bliss, covering half of your face with your comforter.

“So what if I did?” He was glowing, and it only made you smile harder. “So what if I do?”

You smirked and pecked his lips sweetly, nipping his bottom lip. “I love you too, you goof.”

You woke up next to each other that morning, both in a euphoric daze despite your fatigue. You also took into account how you now held the title of Jake’s girlfriend, a majority of the reason why you were a thousand leagues above cloud nine. Jake showed his joy in the form of his tongue pressed to your clit. 

But it didn’t last for long.

You weren’t fast enough to cover yourself when Jay barged in asking whether or not you had seen Jake at all. Little did he know he would find his best friend in the last place he ever expected.

Which led to now, your brother interrogating the two of you like you committed the worst crime humanly possible. In a way, you could see why he would think such a thing.

“So you kiss my sister—” Jay starts.

You cut him off, grabbing Jake’s hand. “I kissed him first.”

“Then you decide to hook up in my car.”

“It was actually my car.” Jake counters, squeezing your fingers with his own.

“And now I find you guys here in your room”—Jay looks directly at you—“just doing whatever the fuck you were doing before I came in.” His face is red from the shock. “How long has this been going on?”

“Six months,” Jake says.

Jay takes a deep breath of air into his lungs, his body rising and falling at a rapid rate. He’s probably grateful your parents can’t hear him yelling. Otherwise they’d come in and ask more invasive questions while you’re not in the position to answer them, half naked and all.

“And where was I while you guys were fucking behind my back?” Jay asks, darting his eyes between the both of you.

“Hanging out between Dahyun’s legs?” You hypothesize, throwing your other hand in the air. “How the hell are we supposed to remember?”

“And you expect me to believe you kissed his scrawny ass first?” Jay asks you.

“Dude, you’ve seen me shirtless,” Jake remarks, rolling his eyes.

 “True, but it’s not much of a show, bro.”

“Seriously, this is not the point!” You yell, placing your face in your hands.

“Yes it is! You’re my sister!”

“And she’s my girlfriend,” Jake interrupts, “so you need to get your head out of your ass and stop acting like she’s not capable of taking care of herself.”

Jake stands up to Jay, the two of them face to face with each other in a way you expected when your relationship came out of the shadows. You don’t want Jay to feel betrayed, but at the same time, it will kill you if Jake gets hurt trying to stick up for you.

“My priority will always be looking out for my family.” Jay turns to you, disappointment clear as day in his eyes. “No matter how I’ve shown it, I didn’t expect to be branded the bad guy for wanting to protect you.”

Jay slams the door on his way out. Tears prick your eyes, silence permeating the bedroom.

Jake sits back down next to you and places a few kisses on the curve of your shoulder. “Believe it or not, but I think he took it better than I thought he would.”

“He hates me,” you sob.

“He doesn’t hate you. Maybe me, but never you.” Jake takes your hand and kisses the inside of your palm, tucking it gingerly between his fingers. “Nobody could ever hate you.”

“I need to fix this, though.” You swiftly kiss Jake’s lips before standing up to get dressed, throwing on a pair of gym shorts and one of his shirts you stole. When you go to Jay’s room, it’s empty. But you hear the faint notes of a guitar from somewhere on the first floor of the house.

You walk down the stairs to find Jay strumming his favorite Yamaha in the living room, the one your father brought home from a trip to Japan for Jay as his graduation present. You step towards his spot on the couch quietly, but he’s already too adept at sensing your presence. He stops playing but says nothing.

“Hey,” you say.

“Don’t.” Jay’s voice is gruff. “Don’t ‘hey’ me right now.”

“Well, if you’re looking for an apology, I’m not going to give you one.”

The two of you are silent, unsure where to take the conversation next. What was there to say? Yes, you felt guilty for keeping Jay in the dark, but either way, the situation would hurt him. His best friend and his younger sister falling in love is not ideal, but feelings couldn’t be fought. All the same, the deceit sat in your stomach like a stone, begging to be thrown away.

You sigh and sit down on the love-seat, adjacent to Jay’s spot on the couch. “I really like him, Seongie,” you confess. “No. I, actually—I love him.”

Jay looks directly at you for the first time, his eyes a bit puffy. “Are you happy?”

“What?”

“Are you happy? Does he treat you well?”

You laugh. “I mean we’ve only been a couple for about 12 hours, so—”

“You know what I mean, asshat.” The two of you share a laugh together, the mood much lighter than before. “Do you see a future with him?”

You nod. “Yeah, I do.”

“Then I can’t get in between that. I just wish one of you would’ve fucking said something.”

“And I would’ve, but you know Jaeyun.”

Jay nods. “He’s a wimp.”

“No,” you shake your head, smiling. “He just didn’t want to hurt you either. He loves you, and I love you, too.” You run a hand through your hair, contemplating your next words. “I’m just not a baby anymore, Jongseong. I know how to handle things.”

Jay nods, sniffling. “I know. It’s just…hard.”

“What is?”

He puts his guitar by his side. Clapping his hands together, he tries to brush off whatever emotion is surfacing. “It’s nothing, I don’t know. Stupid, probably.”

You move positions to sit closer to your brother, placing a hand on his knee. “Nothing you say to me could ever be stupid.”

He knocks you in the shoulder with his fist lightly. “It’s just—when did you get so grown up? You gotta stop doing that.”

“If I did, I’d be dead.”

“True.” Jay chuckles. “I’m sorry for freaking out.”

“I’m sorry for keeping it from you. And I hope you and Jaeyun can talk, too.”

“We will. For now, I’m just glad we did.”

Nodding, you open your arms for a hug, a hug that Jay gladly accepts. It’s a tight one that encompasses both a white flag of retreat and a sincere love for you that you forget to remember sometimes in the midst of his teasing and admonishment. You now know, more than ever, it’s his way of protecting you and proving he cares.

And you’re grateful to have both him and now Jake by your side through all your successes and slip-ups.

“You don’t seriously think I’m okay with you wearing that dress again now that you have a boyfriend, right,” Jay asks. “I’m even more against it because Jake will have a heart attack.”

You chuckle and twirl in the mirror, checking the back of your dress to make sure it’s sitting right on you. “He thought I looked pretty in it the first time.”

“Well now, he’s not worried about you looking pretty. He’s worried about other douchebags checking you out.” Jay flips the page of his book, trying to feign a nonchalant expression. “I’m just saying, he’s still my best friend. I know things.”

You poke your tongue out at your brother. The doorbell rings and you rush to answer, your heart beating at a vigorous pace in your chest.

Once you open the door, Jake’s standing there with a bouquet of flowers and a lopsided grin on his face. When he sees your dress, however, his smile falters a fraction.

“Oh my god, Jay was right!”

“I usually am,” Jay yells from his space in the sitting room armchair.

Jake looks confused, but the realization dawns on him in a flash. “No, you look beautiful. It’s just…a bit short, don’t you think?”

You pout, crossing your arms. “I spent so much time getting ready, Jae.”

“I know, sweetheart.” He takes his free hand and rests it on your hip. “And everyone will be able to see that. I just don’t want to have to fight anyone off at the restaurant.”

You giggle. Going in for an impromptu kiss, you smell the traces of his cologne. The scent could make your knees buckle, but you try to stay confident and lull your boyfriend into submission. “I’ll only be looking at you. And I can defend myself just fine, baby.”

Jake’s bottom lip juts out. “So, I can’t convince you to change?”

You shake your head, grinning.

Jay sneaks up behind you, making you gasp. “If she isn’t gonna listen to her brother, she’s definitely not gonna listen to you, man.”

Jay and Jake exchange a handshake. You’re relieved their relationship has recovered from the reveal of your relationship, but you know that means they have the potential to gang up on you more out of their misguided sense of protection.

“I have the advantage though. She’s in love with me,” Jake sing-songs, kissing you on the cheek after doing so.

“Regardless,” you say, “I’m wearing the dress.”

Jay rolls his eyes. “Just change, for fuck’s sake.”

Jake nods. “Pretty please?”

“Not a chance in hell, boys.”

[awearywritersworld]

tell me you don't want me

gojo satoru x reader summary: gojo adds falling in love with his dead best friend's little sister to the list of things that keep him up at night w/c: 1.8k tags/warnings: angst to fluff. gojo takes care of reader when they have a migraine. they watch shark week together, so shark haters beware. arguing, but nothing super harsh. protective!gojo. reader is referred to as a sister but there are no pronouns. gojo is around 27, reader 23. curse words. no out right smut, but a heavily suggestive ending so lets say 18+ a/n: i've been writing purely fluff for gojo, so it seems about time to return to my angst/fluff roots. today's epi made me had me feeling some type of way. may write a part two to this? idk lemme know what you think! masterlist check out my latest work for gojo here

after you arrived at jujutsu high as a first year, everyone wore the same expression when they looked at you, their eyes full of pity and apprehension. you really couldn't blame them though. after what happened with suguru, you were left a shell of yourself, paranoid that you were destined to the same fate as your older brother.

however, the boy that suguru called his best friend held something different in his gaze whenever his eyes fell on you. understanding, maybe? gojo knew that if there was anyone in the world who missed suguru as much as he did, it had to be you.

for most of the year, the two of you really only talked in passing, dancing around a discussion neither of you were brave enough to initiate. then your brother's birthday rolled around and you found yourself drenched in rain, sneaking into the boys' dormitory to knock on gojo satoru's door.

he wasn't surprised to find you standing there.

"that idiot always refused to let me celebrate his birthday," you blurted out, damp hair sticking to your forehead.

he laughed. it was just a breath, but it was still genuine. "right? he couldn't stand being fussed over for one day."

and as you both stood there, rain pattering against the window, you felt months of unspoken tension melt away. "well, come in. i bought cake."

after that day, gojo took on the roll of your older brother and he really leaned into it. flicking your forehead to annoy you, threatening anyone he thought had a crush on you, giving you advice whenever he deemed you needed it.

you weren't sure if he was aware, even after all these years, that he'd saved you— pulled you away from the brink. you became like the little sister he never had, while he tried his best to fill the hole suguru had left in your heart.

gojo spends more time in your apartment than his own, so it's no surprise when he barges in one afternoon, singing out your name (rather terribly, one might add).

"i have a migraine, 'toru," you groan from the couch, pulling the blanket up over your head as the bright light from behind his figure worsens your discomfort. all of your blinds are shut, the curtains pulled together. "can you please close the door?"

he hums, stepping inside and pulling the door shut quietly. "you seem to be getting them a lot lately."

"probably because i spend so much time with you," you whine facetiously.

he gasps, hand clutching at his heart. "i come all the way here to visit you, only to be ridiculed. my devastation is untellable."

after grabbing a washcloth from the linen closet, he pads over to the kitchen sink. you peer at him from under the blanket as he runs it under cold water, noting how the veins in his forearms become more prominent once he wrings it out.

you're laying across the entirety of the couch, but you scoot away from the edge and he situates himself in the space beside your hip, his body facing you. the corner of his mouth is turned down, evidence of the worry swirling in his chest. he presses the back of his fingers to your forehead before folding the cloth neatly and laying it there.

"you should mention the migraines to shoko," he suggests earnestly.

"they just flare up sometimes, you know that. it's really not a big deal."

"yeah, maybe.. but i still worry about you."

you can't help but notice how close he is and while it feels casual, it also feels... intimate? the cold cloth does bring some relief to your head, though you'd have preferred it if his hand had remained there instead.

"have you eaten?" he questions after a moment, pulling you from your thoughts.

"not yet."

"then i'll go pick up some food," he offers, rising to his feet. "do you need anything else-"

"no," you say a little too quickly, your fingers wrapping around his wrist. "i mean.. can you just stay?"

he suddenly looks very smug. "oh, what's this? are you sure spending more time with me won't make your head feel worse?"

you attempt to roll your eyes but the movement sends a sharp pain through your skull, causing you to grumble. "don't make me hurt you satoru. i was joking."

"i know," he smirks, decently self satisfied. "but you do have to eat, so-"

"there's leftover egg drop in the fridge, can you just warm that up for me please?"

"'course! anything for you, (y/n)-chan!"

his tone makes it sound as if he's teasing you, but he knows it's the truth. he's painfully aware that there isn't a thing you could ask of him that he'd deny. he tries not to think about that though, because he can't bring himself to admit what it all means.

once your soup is ready, he joins you on the couch. you move to sit up and while that makes plenty of room for him, he still lifts your legs, sitting so that they lay across his lap. one of his hands is resting on your shin, the other on your knee.

"shark week?" he suggests as you reach for the remote.

you nod eagerly. "yes."

the two of you have never fought before.

well, maybe that's not entirely true. it isn't uncommon for the both of you to argue over video games, the latest chapter of a manga, or other things of that nature. but you and gojo have never had a genuine disagreement.

that is, until you mention wanting to challenge a decision made by the higher ups. he's well aware of how they deal with people they deem troublesome, so he can't help the vexation that bubbles up in his chest at your words.

"absolutely not," he tells you. his voice is low, not one hint of amusement to be found.

the tone leaves you narrowing your eyes, and you sound a bit misbelieving when you ask, "what do you mean 'absolutely not'?"

after everything that happened with geto, the higher ups have been wary of you. honestly, they're probably just looking for an excuse to pull another stunt like the detention center and he can't risk that. he can't risk losing you.

rather than express any part of that sentiment, however, he just goes all stone faced and vague. it's weird, so naturally it's followed by a bit of back and forth that goes nowhere, the conversation growing unreasonably volatile with each passing second.

why can't you just listen to him? why can't you give him the benefit of the doubt? he's earned that by now, hasn't he?

"i don't understand!" you hiss, your chest heaving with indignation. "why are you acting like this?"

because i love you. because i need you. because you mean more to me than everything else in this world put together.

he can't possibly say that though.. can't lay his shame bare for you to see.. can't bring himself to admit the feelings he has for you.

he's in love with dead best friend's little sister and it's wrong. it keeps him up at night. claws away at his self respect.

"i'll take care of it," he promises, sounding a bit defeated. "just please stay out of it."

"quit treating me like i'm a child, satoru. you're not my father."

your assertion makes the air in the room shift, and the feeling that forms in the pit of gojo's stomach is not unlike a cord being pulled too taut before snapping.

"so what am i then, huh? what am i to you?" he interrogates, taking a step toward you.

his eyes burn with intensity and the conviction in his voice is dizzying, especially since it's meant only for you. he immediately notices the way you stiffen, suddenly unable to meet his eye.

he swallows thickly, any restraint he has left ebbing away once he hears your small, nervous voice. "'toru, w... what do you-"

you're cut off when he takes another step in your direction, your back meeting with the wall after you attempt to maintain the space between the both of you.

one of his palms presses to the wall beside your head, though the other remains at his side. he doesn't want to trap you there, not when he still doesn't have a clear idea of how you're feeling.

his breath fans across your face, your mind struggling to process what was happening. you whisper his name, unsure of how else to respond.

"i want you." he nearly chokes on the words, the pain of admitting them evident in his voice. "want you more than anything."

and he does. he wants you more than the sleep he never gets. more than he wants to honor suguru. more than he wants to be a good man.

his head dips down, your breath catching in your throat when his lips find the spot on your jaw just below your ear.

"please, tell me to stop," he begs, sending a shiver down your spine.

your hands move to his chest, the rise and fall of it uneven and sporadic. god, you make him so fucking weak it's almost pathetic.

his lips shift to your cheek, closer to your mouth, and his hand reaches up to cradle the other side of your face. he sounds irrevocably desperate now, "tell me you don't want me."

your heart's beating so loudly in your ear drums, you can hardly hear yourself speak. "satoru, please."

"please what?" he asks, and for a moment you're unsure of the answer.

you try to open your mouth once more, but the words are lodged in your throat. confusion and frustration rattle around in your head, making it difficult to string together your thoughts. finally you just give in, grabbing his face between your hands and pulling his lips against your own.

he let's out a strangled noise, some unknowable mix of pleasure and relief. his hands land on your hips at once, greedily pulling your body against his own.

his lips are chapped, but they're perfect in the way they move against yours. the kiss isn't clumsy, nor is it unsure. it's ardent and comfortable, as if it's the most natural thing in the world.

you pull away first, each of you holding the other's gaze. you're both hazy eyed, your mouths curved into giddy, lovesick grins.

gojo doesn't hesitate when you glance down at his lips, your words easing that bitter self loathing he'd been enduring for longer than he cares to admit. "if you want me... then make me yours."

taglist: @torusmochi @moonmalice

[pupyuj]

dubcon pervy! g!p gym trainer yujin who touches you on parts she’s not supposed to?🤤 you’d be bent over the equipment and she’d press her hard cock against you with her fingers ghosting right above your breasts but that’s ok cuz she’s only correcting your form, right? right??!? it goes on for many sessions but you were a bit dumb to realize her advances :( so one day as she instructs you to do a stretcg that bends you over and gives her a delicious view of your ass, she loses all self-control, pushes your head against the yoga mat, and fucks you from behind hard and nasty like a rabid dog😫she’s been restraining herself for soooo long! and poor you couldn’t do anything but take her big cock cuz she was too strong (grabbing both of your wrists behind your back) :( both of you go on fucking in different positions, on every gym equipment, nonstop. and did i mention, you were a dumb virgin :( and it only turned yujin on even more when you were crying and begging her to stop bc you were unfamiliar with this (extremely good) sensation stirring up in your stomach :((( poor reader has never even touched herself before :( and all yujin wanted to do was to corrupt you😵‍💫

-🍒

this ask has been rotting in my drafts for months omg apologies 🍒 anon 😭😭💔 as always one can never go wrong with pervy yuj 🤓

[cw: dubcon.]

totally into the idea of this yujinnie here being someone you’ve actually known beforehand like maybe she’s an older sibling’s friend or smth so you feel super comfortable around her and is thus blind to anything weird she does to you 😵‍💫 bcs as far as you know that’s just who yujin is: affectionate and naturally touchy-feely with people that she knows! ofc that made it especially easy for her to get away with doing pervy things such as very very sexual comments about your body that she passed off as either jokes or ‘really specific compliments’, briefly brushing her hands against your boobs, touching your ass, etc. 🫣 and the touching doesn’t even stop outside of your one-on-one meetings! seriously, how could you be so stupid to ignore how her hand always rested so suspiciously low whenever she had an arm wrapped around your waist… she was almost disappointed that it was all too easy but you were still so pretty that she needed to fuck you 😳😳

she was hoping to slowly push you into wanting her back just so nobody can tell her shit about abusing her ‘position’ over you as this mentor figure, but one day you just showed up in a particularly skimpy outfit and that was the last straw for her! all morals out the window 😭 and it didn’t help that yujin hadn’t gotten off for days too.. it was perfect! yujinnie watching with bated breath while you were doing your cute little warm-up stretches, she didn’t care to hide her hard-on anymore because why would she?? you’ll get to see her dick in a matter of minutes anyway 🥰 but as morbidly horny yujin was, she doesn’t get to it right away! she had some manners! 😤 she helps you out with a few workouts as per usual, shares a few jokes and conversations here and there, she even showed you some pictures of her little puppy just to get you nice and comfortable… then you were finally laying on your back on a yoga mat while yujin towered above you, ‘helping’ you with some sit-ups although that wasn’t something that was in your routine before…

ah, yujinnie taking advantage of your exhaustion.. your head seemed to have taken you elsewhere bcs you rlly didn’t notice how she had fit herself in between your legs, her hard cock poking at your clothed cunt, her hands keeping your legs apart without too much pressure so you wouldn’t notice… that was until you blinked and set your eyes on yujin again.. “uhm.. unnie?” oh you were so stupid! really!? that’s all you’ll say about this extremely awkward and frankly, humiliating situation??! yujin couldn’t believe her ears, and her eyes! you didn’t make a single move to scuttle away like she expected you to!

it takes yujin a thrust of her hips for your poor instincts to finally kick in and you attempted to push her off.. only to have your wrists pinned above your head 😣 and before you knew it, your pants have been pulled down and you were taking yujin’s thick cock very painfully slowly.. she doesn’t bother to use her other hand to cover up your mouth, she needed to hear your voice.. hear how you whined and winced in pain but would moan her name at every thrust… and she likes how you got yourself to be free from her hold just to grab at her shirt and claw at her arms.. yk what she liked even more?? how you begged in tears for her to ‘wait’ and ‘slow down’ but didn’t make any attempts to push her away like before.. and ofc yujin doesn’t miss the way you’ve practically wrapped your legs around her waist—you wanted this!

if you ask me she was wayyy too ecstatic to help you with some other kind of workout 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ yujinnie practically manhandles you the entire time you fucked in that room… grabbing your waist tightly to the point she made marks on your skin with her nails then she’d aggressively push you around, making sure you’re in the perfect position to take her cock smoothly… face down, ass up, both of your hands gripping the mat for dear life while she pounds your holes… even making you gag and spit all over her fingers just to massage your clit in a way that makes you bite your lip until it bleeds… everything was painful, but it was also all just too good that you sat there and took it like the good girl yujin kept muttering that you were 😍

yujin’s big on praises for you bcs she always made sure to encourage you in your sessions but she was especially fond of you while she fucked your ass, for some reason! 🥰 so many “good girl”s and “good job”s… her praises only wanted you to be better for her ☹️☹️ so ofc you parted your own ass so she could go all out… literally thrusting into you like she will never fuck anyone ever again, biting your shoulder and drooling all over it like a dog in heat… you have never felt more accomplished in your life until yujin came inside you.. filling you up while you simultaneously squirted on her dick (which she liked very much btw!!) with a sweet moan that will surely be stuck in yujin’s head for daysss to come 😵‍💫

[pomefioredove]

who they fall for, heartslabyul

I did a longer one of these for rook and now I can't get the idea out of my head, so... series! (part 1/8)

summary: soulmates type of post: blurbs characters: deuce, ace, cater, trey, riddle additional info: romantic, not proofread so maybe ooc, gender neutral partner, really just thoughts

𝐃𝐞𝐮𝐜𝐞 𝐒𝐩𝐚𝐝𝐞

trope: dorks in love

Deuce ends up with someone who, most of all, challenges him. they put him at ease, and there's a definite shared gentleness between the two, but it's his partner's subtle rebellious streak that wins him over (though they definitely know when to tone it down). puppy love that turns into something deeper. they accept him as he is, flaws and all, and they support him in his growth towards becoming a better person. fiercely loyal. they and Deuce would constantly be fighting to be the "chivalrous" one. taking turns telling the waiter the other asked for no pickles, running to hold doors open, etc. it's cute, but a little competitive, just enough to motivate him.

𝐀𝐜𝐞 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐚

trope: tsundere

his soulmate? someone who can take a joke. no, no, I'm kidding, but they would have a wicked sense of humor, one that compliments his perfectly. and an adorable laugh, of course, snorts and all. someone who can feed his ego without overdoing it, keeping him wrapped around their little finger (trust me, he loves it). a little mutual teasing never hurt anyone, right? at the same time, though, they'd be completely devoted, loyal, and loving, just like he is. he brags about being a ladies man, though, really, he's almost completely closed off when it comes to matters of the heart. it takes a lot of patience (and a lot of putting up with his shenanigans) before those walls start coming down to reveal the romantic hidden behind them.

𝐂𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐃𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝

trope: slowburn

similar to friends to lovers, but of a different flavor. Cater is subtly flirty with almost everyone, it's the people-pleasing, but a soulmate? yeah, he'll believe it when he sees it! of course, he's completely blind to what he's needed all along being right in front of him. someone who listens to him, who cares deeply about his feelings, who can read his body language and know just what he's thinking. someone he feels comfortable around without feeling the need to hide himself. a bestie, if you will. he's absolutely the first to catch feelings and drives himself mad about it, not daring to make a move out of a fear of vulnerability (or being a weirdo, take your pick) and it devolves into months, years worth of cringe pining. "looking at the pictures they'd taken together and giggling" pining.

𝐓𝐫𝐞𝐲 𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫

trope: weirdos in love

thought it was gonna be domestic bliss? nope. I'm saving that one. Trey isn't quite ready to settle down yet, having spent his whole life taking care of others (to the point where he hasn't had a moment to figure out who he is...) and so he's put a hold on the whole "romance" thing. of course, the last thing he was expecting after graduation was to bump into someone that would throw that plan out the window. truly, his soulmate is someone he feels he can be himself with, who gives him the ability to relax and be the one who gets pampered, for once... it's a very equal and loving relationship with a like-minded and responsible person. one who goes along with all his bits, too.

𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬

trope: opposites attract

oof the ouch. no, Riddle is not ready for the ups and downs of a relationship, and he knows that. he's always chalked up his disinterest in romance to his studies, and his utter disinterest in taking anyone home to meet his mother's highly specific future-in-law criteria. though, secretly, Riddle has held onto his own little list of "perfect" traits, almost going as far to fantasize about an imaginary partner to keep him company. the person he does end up falling for makes that list null and void. they're daring, adventurous, creative, curious, open to all sorts of nonsensical ideas that challenge all of Riddle's. they represent a sort of freedom that he's never had, and before he can even hate them, he finds himself falling. but someone like that could never tie themselves down to someone like him... right?

[lizardboiii]

Breaking up ┃One Piece Pt. 1

Scenario: Having a huge fight with your bf which ultimately leads one of you to saying something you regret.

"I wish I never met you."

Characters: Monkey D. Luffy, Roronoa Zoro x Fem!reader

cw: 18+, SFW, Angst, Hurt/No comfort, vulgar language

☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *.

Monkey D. Luffy

“You never even treat me like we're together!”

You were at your breaking point, figuratively and literally. In the last three months that you and Luffy had been together, not once did he change the way he acted towards you. It felt as if you were still just Luffy’s nakama. Well today that was all going to change. You had a plan.

It took some convincing, but you finally managed to get Nami and Ussop to help you set up a romantic dinner in the Sunny’s crow’s nest. Two of Luffy’s favorite things, food and you. It was perfect.

With preparations taken care of, you waited patiently for Luffy to arrive. Your aforementioned captain was currently exploring the island you were stopped at. But with the sun starting to set, he'd be back for dinner any minute now.

So you waited. 

And waited. 

And waited….

You waited till the candles were near burnt out. Waited till the food went ice cold. Waited till your eyes stung from holding back tears.

Monkey D. Luffy had stood you up.

Your own boyfriend. 

Slamming the napkin delicately placed across your lap onto the table, you pushed yourself to your feet. Humiliation creeped its way up your neck. Never in your life have you ever felt so worthless. 

Holding back hiccups, you dragged yourself out of the crow’s nest and away from the undisturbed meal. What was Nami going to think? All that preparation for nothing. You clenched your hands into tight fists. The next time you see Luffy you swear you were going to-

“y/n!”

You spun on your heel to face the familiar voice. Luffy’s face smiled brightly at you, blinding you more than the moonlight. It was almost enough for you to forgive him. Almost.

“Wait up!”

Scoffing, you glared at his cheery form before turning away from him. All you wanted was a shower, not excuses. 

Luffy caught up with your silently seething form with ease, spinning around you like top. He pranced around as if he were a crow and you his shiny treasure. Your name falling from his lips like a mantra.

Try as you might, eventually you gave into his pestering, voice sharp as nails, “What do you want, Luffy?”

Luffy’s grin widened despite your tone, “Sorry I couldn't make it, y/n. There was a festival in town, you should have come. There was an all you can eat buffet, Tra-guy and Jaggy were there too!” He scratched his chin, “Maybe next time you can invite everyone else so we can all eat together again!”

Your eye twitched, “Why would I invite the whole crew to our date?”

“Date?”

You stopped in your tracks, “Yes, date. You know the ones you're supposed to take your girlfriend out on? That kind?”

You could practically see the gears turning in his head at your reply. 

“But I have multiple girlfriends?” “WHAT?”

“Ya! You, Robin, Nami,” Luffy used his fingers to count, “Oh, and Vivi!”

You face palmed, “Not “girl” friends, Luffy. A “girlfriend”. Someone who’s more,” You reached for Luffy’s hand, “Special.”

“But all my friends are special,” Luffy pouted, gingerly returning your touch.

Laughing, you shook your head, “I know. But…It's a different type of special. It's when you wanna hold their hand, and you wanna be near them no matter what,” You met his confused gaze, “It's someone you love.”

“Then why would I wanna do that with you?”

“Huh?”

It felt like your body hit a brick wall. Every word ripped from your throat. He was joking right? It was a sick joke but a joke no less. 

“I don’t think I love you.”

You blinked in confusion before choking out a response, “T-Thats okay. Sometimes it takes a while to realize you love someone. It's not immediate.”

Luffy hummed, “I'm not sure I even want a “girlfriend”, y/n.”

A nervous laughter erupted from your throat, “Luffy, what are you talking about?” It felt like your heart might leap out of your chest.

“I like how my friends are now. I don't need a “girlfriend”. I have my Nakama. I have you.”

The world suddenly stopped spinning, and only for a moment the ocean quieted and the breeze hushed. Then, as if nothing happened, the world began to turn as normal, leaving behind your hollowed out body.

"...what?"

Cheeky smiled, Luffy repeated his words as if it was only the news, "I don't need a "girlfriend" I have a crew!"

The empty feeling in the pit of your stomach slowly filled with rage. First, he stood you up. Now? Now, he wants to pretend you guys aren't even dating!?

“Luffy, we're dating! What are you talking about? I asked you out almost three months ago!” You snapped, “Why did you even say yes to me if you didn't want a "girlfriend"?” 

“I don't know,” He cocked his head to the side, “I just thought you wanted to be closer friends.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in disbelief, “What?”

Luffy shifted in his sandals, clearly uncomfortable, “I thought you wanted to be my “girl” friend, not my “girlfriend”.”

“Are you joking?” Your skin felt red hot as if your whole being was ablaze, “You thought I wanted to be your “girl” friend!? Did it ever once occur to you that friends don't hold each other’s hands!?”

Luffy quickly retracted his hand from your grip, scratching his head in thought, “Not really.”

“Oh my god,” You couldn't tell if you were laughing or crying at this point, “This whole time you never thought we were together? Ever?!”

“I guess we are a bit closer than everyone else,” Luffy’s brows furrowed in thought.

“A bit?” You ran your fingers through your hair, “We spend every waking moment together! I've confided in you, you've confided with me. You know things about me no one else does!”

To his credit, Luffy looked ashamed, “I’m sorry, y/n. I guess…I just never noticed how you really felt.”

You rolled your tear filled eyes, “Obviously.”

“I can try if you want-”

“Forget it, Luffy,” You held your hands up in defeat, “Just forget it. Whatever you thought was going on here is over.”

Luffy grabbed your arm, “What! I don't want that!”

“You don't seem to want a lot of things,” You shrugged his grip off, “Including me.”

“y/n.”

You wiped your face clear of tears.

“We're done, Lu.”

☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *.

Roronoa Zoro

"Do I need to be a sword just to get a minute of your attention!?"

Three hundred seventy-six, three hundred seventy-seven, three hundred seventy-eight-

“Are you still counting?”

You rolled your eyes, “Yes, mom.”

Zoro ignored your annoyed response, preferring to continue his push ups below you. Huffing, you rested your chin on your hand. He had been going at this for hours now. You were starting to feel nauseous as your form jostled every time Zoro went up and down with you on his back.

“How much longer?”

Zoro grunted, “When I reach two thousand.”

“Two thousand!?”

Your sudden shout made Zoro shoot up quickly, knocking you off balance. Your criss-crossed form easily flew from Zoro’s back to the ground below. You fell hard, slamming your shoulder into the wood floor. 

Hissing, you rubbed your now sore arm, “What the hell, Zoro!?”

“Shit.”

The moss head was quick to his feet, offering you a hand, “Dammit, you should've been more careful.”

You snatched his extended hand and scoffed, “I wasn't the one who moved so suddenly.”

Pulling you to your feet, Zoro continued to hold your hand, “I wasn't the one complaining so loudly.”

“I can’t help it. We’ve been here all day,” You played with his larger fingers, “Plus, you promised you'd explore the island with me today.”

You could hear Zoro grumble under his breath before sighing loudly, “Training is more important right now.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, “What, why?"

Your thoughts raced around in your head to find a reason for Zoro's sudden uptightness. You were quick to settle on striking golden eyes and a small dagger. Dracule Mihawk. He and Zoro had put on quite the show only weeks ago.

Rubbing Zoro's palm, you quirked a brow, "Are you still hung up about that Mihawk guy beating you?”

“I'm not hung up.”

You flinched at Zoro’s tone, “You clearly are.”

Quickly dropping your hand, Zoro turned away from you, “Listen it doesn't even matter what you think. You wouldn't understand. You're not a swordsman.”

“I'm not a swordsman but I'm definitely your girlfriend,” you snapped at his back.

“Just because you're my girlfriend doesn't mean you can control my training.”

“Just because you're a swordsman doesn't mean you can just dismiss me.”

The room filled with a silence thick enough to cut with a sword. You thought you might drown on land. Staring into Zoro's rigid back, you tried to manifest any form of response from him.

Finally, after what seemed like eons, Zoro rolled his shoulders and turned to face you. Your breath caught in your throat at his expression. It was dark, almost...menacing. It was a gaze he normally reserved scum marines and enemy pirates alike, but never for you.

“You're the one who's dismissing me!”

A forced laugh erupted from your mouth, “How am I dismissing you, moss head?” You crossed the space between the two of you, “By telling you to take one measly break?”

Zoro’s eyes bore into your own as if trying to find his next words. Grabbing your hand, he placed it on his bare chest, “Do you see this?”

You tensed at the feeling of the scar tissue, Mihawk.

“This...this scar is why I have to be stronger. For the crew. For Luffy,” Zoro squeezed your hand, “For you.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, “Zoro, I didn't-”

“Maybe we should break up.”

You paused, mouth stuck open in shock, “...what?”

It felt like you had swallowed glass, pins and needles running down your esophagus into your stomach. But the glass still wasn't enough to fill the large pit beginning to form.

Gently, Zoro pushed your hand away from him, “This relationship,” he took a deep breath, “Might be too much of a distraction.”

You never really understood when people said it felt like their heart was being ripped out of their chest. But now? It felt like your whole chest cavity had been removed. 

Slowly, hot tears began to cascad down your rosied cheeks, “You think I'm a distraction?”

Zoro paused, his internal conflicted evident on his face, “...yes.”

You clenched your teeth together tightly, “Screw you, Zoro! I can barely get you to pay attention to me when someone even mentions the word “sword” but I'm the distraction?!” You jammed a finger into his chest, avoiding his scar, “If you needed an excuse to break up with me so badly you could've at least chosen a good one!”

“I’m sorry, y/n,” Zoro favored staring at the ground, “But if I want to be the greatest swordsman I can't be with you.” His hand captured the one buried in his chest, "Not yet at least."

You ripped your hand away from him, "If not now, then never." Your eyes searched Zoro's, looking for any sign of regret, "Choose, Zoro."

"Its over, y/n," Massive arms pulled you into a warm hug, "I'm sorry."

Clutching onto him, you sobbed silently. It wasn't fair. Why couldn't he just have both?

"I love you."

“Fuck you.”

☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *.

Requests Open!

[dira333]

Blind Date with Tsukishima

Blind Date - Tsukishima x Reader

“And it’s going to be a Blind Date,” Hitoka points out. “I’m not telling you who it is. But he’ll wear a red scarf.”

“A red scarf,” you nod. “Gotcha.”

She squints at you. “You don’t wanna know more?”

“No, I’m fine.” You sigh. “Better to go in blind, right? Not like swiping on Tinder did me any good.”

She laughs heartily. “You’re too much in your head. You’re just like me! But he’ll be nice. Ah, well… he’ll be nice for you.”

It’s your turn to squint. “He’s not that nice to others?”

“He is!” She reassures you, already panicking. “I’d never say anything bad about him, he’s my friend. But he can be a bit brash at first if he doesn’t know or trust you. But he’s always respectful to authorities, I know that’s important to you.”

“Well,” you sniff before sighing. “I am too single to complain about that. Blind Date it is.”

-x-

“A Blind Date,” Kei repeats, dragging the words. “How old are you?”

Hitoka pouts. “It’s a cute idea!”

“Sure, for her. But you could tell me who it is.”

“But where’s the fun in that? Tadashi, back me up!”

“Tsukki-”

“No,” Kei shakes his head. “Don’t bother. I’m going to go along with it because you asked so nicely, but only this one time, okay? And don’t remind me that I’ve been single for too long, I know. Shush!” His hand snaps up just in time to cut off Kanji who’d just opened his mouth.

Kanji pouts but falls back again, throwing his arm around Hitoka for support.

“What is she going to wear?” Kei asks Hitoka. “A red scarf too?”

“No,” she shakes her head. “She’s got a big red hair clip that’s shaped like a flower. A Gerbera.”

“Oh, is that the exotic one?” Kanji asks, perking up.

“No, you mean Hibiscus,” Kentarou drawls before taking a sip of his beer. He rolls his eyes at the sudden attention. “What? Everyone knows those flowers.”

“Sure,” Kei drawls back, finding at least a little reprieve in the angry glare he gets in response.

-x-

Hitoka has a lot of friends, you realize, as you stalk her Instagram account.

But she’s very good at tagging all of them, be it work friends, old high school friends or all those other people she knows from dating a Volleyball Player.

You scroll back all the way to her first post in High School and come up with only three people wearing a red scarf around her.

Sure, that means nothing in the long run, but one of those people is a girl, and the other two are Asahi Azumane the Fashion Designer and someone called Tsukishima Kei, Volley Player.

It doesn’t take long to figure out that Azumane is happily married, the red scarf now tied around his wife’s neck. What a shame. He’d have been cute.

Tsukishima’s Instagram Account is private and you’re not going to embarrass yourself by sending him a follower request.

Koganegawa Kanji’s account, however, is public and he posts a lot.

From Selfies at work, Tsukishima glaring at him in the background to Group Photos at the Isekaya they seem to visit regularly, everything is there.

It doesn’t take long to find a messy video of the Gang, Tsukishima and someone with a haircut resembling a Tennisball engaged in the laziest catfight you’ve ever seen or heard.

Tennisballhead’s insults are not for the soft but Tsukishima draws back just as effectively.

So… you could be mistaken, but you’re pretty sure Tsukishima is going to be your not so blind Blind Date.

-x-

He doesn’t want to know, really. But then again, a bit of research doesn’t hurt, right?

Hitoka has only five girlfriends that she regularly mentions and posts on social media.

Two of them are taken, one is going through a complicated breakup at the moment as far as he’s aware, and the other two… 

There is no Gerbera hair clip in sight. Not even a hair clip with a different flower, though he doesn’t think Hitoka would mess up something that simple.

It’s two days until the Date and he finds himself scrolling through both of their Instagrams, looking for clues, pretending he isn’t interested at all

And maybe he wouldn’t have figured it out if not for Kanji’s big mouth.

-x-

The Diner’s nice, decorated in a western style.

You start salivating just at the thought of a milkshake with fries but busy yourself with the menu instead, sipping slowly from the glass of water you’d ordered.

You’re early, the result of a surprising eagerness to meet your blind date.

Someone brushes past you and you can feel it - the giant red hair clip snagging on something. You can feel the break before you hear it, watch helplessly as the fake Gerbera adorning the clip tumbles to the floor, only to be crushed under someone’s eager foot.

Your hair now flows freely around your face, a welcome shield from the outside world as you fight against the sting of tears.

It’s nothing big, the hair clip not even of sentimental value, but you can’t help but see a sign in it.

-

Tsukishima Kei is fifteen minutes late. 

You stare at Hitoka’s message on your phone, the innocent question of whether you made it to the Diner just fine. No sign that she knows he’s not showing.

Maybe he got held up at work? Does that happen to Volleyball Players?

“Have you decided yet?” Your server appears next to your table, chewing bubble gum and grinning.

Surely you’re imagining the smug curve of her smile.

“Just a minute,” you ask. “I’m waiting on someone.”

“Oh honey,” she drawls out with enough satisfaction to leave no doubt she’s enjoying this. “He’s not showing. Just accept it.”

“I-”

“Are we paying for that roast on the side or is that on the house?” A deep voice asks to your left and you both turn, surprised.

Tsukishima’s there, in the flesh, out of breath, and beads of sweat glistening on the bow of his lip. He looks like he ran here and you’re ready to believe it, no more evidence needed. 

“I’m sorry Honey,” he tells you with a voice so sweet you can only call it passive-aggressive. “The train got delayed and my phone was empty. Never letting Kanji play games on it to pass the time.”

“You’re forgiven,” you tell him simply, sending a pointed glare toward your server.

She catches herself, shuffling away with an apology but that’s too little too late. You know you won’t be tipping too well tonight.

Tsukishima slips into his seat, pulling the red scarf from his neck.

“I thought you were supposed to wear a hair clip?”

“I thought you were supposed to be on time?”

He smiles, clearly enjoying that you dare to fight back.

“Missed my train. Running over was faster than waiting for the next.”

“Mhm,” you eye him. “You sure you didn’t just want to show off your stamina?”

“Maybe?” He grins. “What about the hair clip?”

“It got crushed under careless feet,” you admit, trying not to feel sorry for yourself.

“Good,” he comments. “You won’t need it any longer.”

“Excuse me?” You ask, a little perplexed. 

A blush, as red as the Gerbera mentioned, rises onto his cheeks.

“No more blind dates?” He offers and you smile. “We’ll see about that.” 

- Bonus -

“How did you know it was me?” You ask, your joined hands swinging in between your bodies.

His cheeks are flushed from the cold, the wine and no doubt your attention as well.

“Kanji… Hitoka’s boyfriend. He mentioned your favorite food.”

“And?” You blink, surprised that this might have led him to you.

“I might have been stalking Hitoka’s Instagram. It wasn’t that hard to figure out.”

“Oh,” you chuckle. “Well, you wear that red scarf a lot. Just saying.”

“You knew it was me?”

You shrug, unable to keep from smiling proudly. “Had a hunch.”

Requests open

[jwanniie]

ik hanni's so soft, but can you make a fic like I kinda wanna see her as a fuck girl 😭 liek girlie be fuckin girls left and right

And she's like a bball/foot ball player and ur like innocent and ofc a VIRGIN

Mean gp hanni please, and also take ur time 😓

Pairings: G!p Fuck girl basketball player Hanni x fem reader!

Word count: 1,4

Warnings: unprotected sex (don’t be silly wrap your Willy), use of aphrodisiac, manipulation, corruption kink, p in v, fuck girl hanni, virgin reader, reader gets called kitty, little bit of teasing, not proofread, and just filthy smut!!

Jwans note: I managed to make this kinda soft🫣🤷‍♀️

—————————————————————————

You hated basketball, and you hated Hanni. Or maybe you hated basketball because of hanni?

Hanni was one of the most popular basketball players in your whole school, and the most arrogant one. She had girls literally flooding her house everyday or all over her in the school cafeteria.

You’ve heard some of the nastiest rumors about her, from the same girls that she has fucked dumb and threw away the next day, it got to the point that there were no more girls to fuck in your school, she had to “re-fuck” and that was one of the things that she hated. She wanted something new and different, not something she already got to have her fun with. She got bored easily and that’s just her habit.🤷‍♀️

You hated her because of her mean attitude and the way she treated the girls after she got to have her fun with them. Well hate is a big word, dislike is more like it.

You never hanged out with type of people like Hanni. She was way out of your league and you liked your own small group of friends. You guys weren’t nerd but you weren’t popular, you guys just had your grades on the top of the list. You cared for your future and career. So after the cute kindergarten crush and date you had, you never went out nor had some kind of hook up in some available room in those frat parties like most people your age did.

You heard the unnecessary rumor in your school, about your friend group being a pack of losers and virgins. You have no idea who spread that information, but there was nothing to deny except the losers part. You honestly didn’t know what was wrong with being a virgin or not having much experience. But still you had to torment the laughing of the mean girls and the laughing of the fuck girls.

Hanni found the thing, quite alluring actually. The idea of fucking a virgin pussy and virgin mouth, didn’t fail to make blood pressure in her cock and also she’d put you in the list of the girls she has already fucked, so it’s a win win situation for her.

But the real question is…How will she get you under her spell?! You were a hard person to impress or to make a move on, so if she acted nice and kind around you, that won’t impress you.She need more smart and easy way to blind you under the sheets.

The teacher has been nagging about her needing a tutor because of the constant basketball practice and the basketball games. So she have been missing out on lots. Hanni recommended you as her tutor, you were shocked that she even acknowledged you, you were gonna deny but the wide smile the teacher gave and the loud “Good choice” she muttered made you change your mind and accept being her tutor. What is the worse that could happen?

Days come and go as fast as wind, and here you are in front of her door, the first tutoring session. Bringing your hand to knock on the wooden surface. You gave two soft knocks, and not long after, a figure stood tall in front of you. She was wearing grey sweatpants and her teams basketball shirt.

You couldn’t help but let your eyes travel down to her crotch, the visible little bump in there. She saw how you eyed her length she gave a little dirty chuckle. “Shall we go inside?”

You gulped before meeting her lust filled eyes and nodded hurriedly. The little look she had on her face, made anticipation burn right under your belly button.

You sat down on her black leather couch crossing your legs and she stood in front of you.

“Do you want coffee, tee or juice?” She asked you heading towards her kitchen, you registered what she said. “Juice is fine!” You answered politely.

You waited for her patiently, your bag on your lap, playing with all of the cool zippers and pockets before her figure came with a tray of what you think is Orange Juice and heart chocolates. You honestly don’t know about this combo of Orange juice and chocolate, but you are here as a guest so you must be grateful for what she offers you.

You took the glass of juice from the tray and took a little sip, she offered you heart chocolates with a little smirk. Your heart told you to not take it but your brain shouted otherwise and you obviously went with your brain.

“Taste these new chocolates, I bought them from a cool shop near here!”

You mumbled a low ‘thank you’ and took a bite from the heart chocolate. “It’s good!” You said with a warm smile on your face. “I know” she smiled back at you, or not a smile, it was more like a grin.

You started the tutoring session, it was going peacefully and perfectly, before you felt your panties soaked, you were so wet that you swore that there is a probably a stain on her couch. But what confused you was,why were you aroused? There was no particular reason for you to be this wet.

You felt that your clit was ten times more sensitive and you felt like a horny rabbit, even the slightest touches of her hand on your burning form was enough to make the most sinful noises come out. She saw how you were biting your lip or stuttering when her knee brushed against yours. The drug finally did it work and she loved seeing you in this vulnerable state.

You tried rubbing your soaked pussy against the couch, but soon stopped due to the noises that threatened to fall. She wrapped her hand on your thigh, dangerously close to your heat.

She started groping and rubbing the soft flesh. And you couldn’t help yourself and you let out a moan, your hand immediately found it way on top of your mouth, your eyes wide at the sound you just let out.

She gave once again one of her dirty chuckles “if you want me to touch you this badly you could just tell me kitty!” Her index and middle finger found it way over your clothed clit and started rubbing it.

“Fuck- baby you have a waterfall down here” your breath hitched, your brain too occupied with pleasure and the feeling of wanting more that you are not processing what she said. She took off your pants and started toying with your soaked pussy, playing with your folds, thrusting her knuckles in then pulling immediately out, or pinching your sensitive pearl.

And suddenly all of her touches were gone. Her sweats were getting too uncomfortable and suffocating for her, with one swift motions her clothing was discarded on the same pile as your pants.

She aligned herself with your walls before pushing in, your virgin pussy suffocating her cock in the most delicious way ever.

“Fuck kitty, your pussy is hugging me so tight.” Her eyes were shut close and yours were too. Your sobs echoed through the room walls, you were desperate for more. Her hips started rocking against yours gently, the head of her cock discovering places nobody has ever visited. She gripped on your waist like she could just collapse any moment, the grip so tight that you are sure there is now a red or purple marks there

“I’m the first and only one who is going to run this pussy” she muttered before her face leaned against yours, her lips swallowing your high pitched moans.

Her pace started being desperate, hammering her hips against yours, sweaty skin slapping sounds echoing, moans and groans the only thing your brain processing. Her lips captured yours, the kiss messy and sloppy, exchanging saliva and her tongues sucking on yours.

Your pussy was now swallowing her length even tighter, “Hanni I-I’m close” you uttered, it was more like a moan but she could understand you.

“M-me too kitty m-me too!” She groaned. Her tips continued abuse made you clench once more around her before your orgasm washed over you, leaving you exhausted. Your first ever orgasm.

You felt your insides being flooded with warm sticky liquid and you realized that she came. She snuggled onto you, her hands wrapping around your exhausted form. And your hands around her neck. You knew that you had to take a shower soon, but you want to enjoy this moment for now.

[morganwrites12672]

Abandon

Sam Winchester x Reader

Summary: After the worst fight he's ever had with his father, Sam goes to the only person he can for comfort.

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: ANGST. John is a piece of shit. Arguing. Crying. Daddy issues.

A/N: Have fun crying!

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Whenever Sam had finally gotten back from visiting her, he hadn't expected Dean and John to be waiting up for him in the small living room of the motel. He awkwardly shrugged off his jacket before tossing it over the back of the couch.

He could feel his father's eyes burning into his skin. John must be pissed off about something. It seemed like Sam couldn't do anything without upsetting the older man. His good mood vanished.

"You have something you want to tell me?" John asked, and Sam just knew. He knew exactly what John meant. There was nothing else that would have his father looking this pissed.

Sam swallowed thickly, he shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. He looked between Dean and John. John looked pissed, his fists clenched, his jaw tight. Dean looked different. He looked almost happy, he looked satisfied. A smug smirk tugged at Dean's lips.

Dean was convinced that John was going to fix everything. He thought that his father would be able to fix this. Once all of this was over, Sam would stay. Everything would work out. If only Dean didn't put so much blind trust into his father. Maybe then he would have realized what would actually happen.

"No sir."

Sam knew that his father wouldn't be satisfied with this response. No, the older man would be pissed off. Nothing Sam said would make it right. No matter what he did his father would still probably lose his shit. This was going to be an argument from Hell.

"Don't you fucking lie to me!" John growled. He pulled something out of his pocket, a letter. Not just any letter though. The letter. Sam's acceptance letter for Stanford.

"How-" Sam didn't get to finish his sentence.

"You applied for Stanford," John said. It was a statement, not a question. The evidence was quite literally being gripped in John's hand.

Sam's nerves coiled in his gut, ready to explode. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest. This argument was the very thing that Sam had wanted to avoid at all costs. He wasn't quite sure how he had planned to avoid it though. Telling John might have made it better rather than the older man figuring it out, or being told by someone else.

"I'm going," Sam blurted, standing up a little straighter. He wouldn't keep letting his father walk all over him. He would go to Stanford. After everything he had sacrificed for other people, he would do this for himself. Hunting could wait a few years.

"I just want to-" For the second time that night, John cut Sam off.

"Like hell you are! I won't let you abandon this family," John snapped as he stood. He slammed the letter down onto the table. He couldn't believe the way Sam was speaking. "Would you really do that? Would you really abandon your brother and I?"

"No. Dad listen, I am going to Stanford!" Sam shouted back at John. He wasn't abandoning Dean or his father. No, he was just trying to go to college.

"It's that damn whore," John sneered. It didn't matter that he was talking about his friends daughter, he was also talking about the girl who he thought had been a bad influence on Sam. "She's been putting all of these ideas into your head. She-"

It was Sam's turn to cut John off. Hearing his father talk about her that way made Sam's blood boil. He took a steadying breath. Just yelling at his father wouldn't do any good. He needed to be somewhat logical. Though, he struggled to think of anything decent to say after what he had heard his father call her.

Dean was watching everything go down. Now that he'd seen how this argument was going he might have a few regrets. He'd seen Sam and his father argue, a lot. It had never been this bad though. Hearing what his father had to say about her though, that made Dean regret everything. Being around her was the happiest Dean had ever seen his brother. He couldn't believe that his father would insult her like that. She wasn't a bad influence on Sam, not in the slightest.

"Don't call her that," Sam said through a clenched jaw. "She has done nothing wrong! It was my idea to apply for Stanford. I am not abandoning this family! I'm going to college!"

"Don't you fucking come back! If you aren't going to do the job, and be apart of this family, don't you ever come back," John snarled.

Sam's expression changed in an instant. He felt his chest tighten, panic spreading throughout his body. He knew by looking at johns face that his father wasn't kidding.

Sam grabbed his jacket, the letter from Stanford, and his laptop case before walking out the door. He had a lump in his throat as he walked down the row of motel room doors. Looking around the parking lot, he was thankful that it was empty.

"Sammy! Wait!" Dean yelled, running out of the motel room door after his younger brother. He was panicking at this point. Things weren't supposed to end like this. He couldn't believe that Sam would leave like this.

"Don't call me that," Sam snapped at his brother, not bothering to turn around. "Leave me the hell alone Dean."

The older Winchester brother stopped in his tracks. He had fucked up, everything had went wrong. It was too late now. Sam had clearly made up his mind. There was nothing Dean would be able to do to stop his brother.

Sam walked. And he just kept walking. His jacket protected him from the ice cold gushes of wind blowing. He walked towards the only place he had left to go; her house. She was his escape. He needed her, right now especially.

The disgusting words that John had spoke of her made Sam's blood boil. He walked faster. He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jacket, hiding them away from the brisk cold.

She was the best part of his day. Hearing his father call her that, and the way the older man talked about her made him sick. She deserved so much better. She didn't do anything wrong. No, the opposite. She made everything better.

The thought of her smile was only able to hinder the tears building up for so long. Sam only walked faster. His long, gangly legs could only carry him so fast though.

The walk to her house didn't take long. Sam practically ran. His eyes had long ago welled up with tears, he sniffled as he finally spotted her house. He walked up to the front porch and hesitated. It was late. What if her parents answered instead of her?

He didn't knock on the door. Instead, he sent her a quick text asking if she could open the front door for him. He prayed to anything out there that might listen to him that she was still awake. He wouldn't risk her parents coming to the door, even if he knew that they wouldn't be upset.

His tear stained cheeks glimmered in the moonlight. He wiped at his cheeks with the sleeve of his jacket, trying to hide some of the tears from view. However, he knew that the second she opened the door that she would know. It would be impossible for her not too.

She could take one look at Sam and read him like a god-damn book. It was nice to be understood like that. Dean and his father had never actually listened to him about anything. He felt like an outsider. He don't feel anywhere near like that around her.

His train of thought was interrupted as he heard the click of a deadbolt sliding open. The front door creaked open. Standing in the doorway, there she was. Her pajama pants hung low on her hips, exposing a small section of her waist before her tank top covered the rest of her skin up. She looked tired as hell, yet she still gave Sam a gentle smile.

She stepped aside wordlessly, letting Sam into the house. Her eye brows drew together in concern as she noticed his tear stained cheeks. As Sam stepped inside, she quickly (and quietly) shut the door. The dead bolt snapped into place.

As she turned around she noticed that Sam had already began walking to her bedroom. Her house was more like a home to Sam than any other place. He did spend a lot of time here. Not that her parents minded.

Her parents loved Sam. They had always welcomed him in with open arms. And, they ignored all of the times they caught Sam sleeping over. They just appreciated that their daughter was spending time with someone her age. Having such a an odd lifestyle made it difficult to maintain friendships.

Whenever she walked into her bedroom, Sam was already sitting on her bed. His head was titled downwards, his eyes seemed to be locked on her rug. She noticed that he had discarded his shoes and jacket already. His jacket hung on the back of her desk chair, and his shoes sat in the corner of her room.

She sat next to Sam and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. He shuddered beneath her touch. More tears burned at his eyes and he fought to keep the emotion out of his voice as he spoke

"H-he found out," Sam whispered in a fragile voice. With anyone else he would have cringed at how vulnerable he sounded. He sniffled again, trying to prevent the tears from pouring down his cheeks again.

Her heart dropped. She was suddenly wide awake. That was the worst possible thing that could happen. She still remembered how excited Sam had been to show her his acceptance letter. All of that excitement had been ruined by John.

"Oh my God. . . Sam-"

"I'm still going to S-Stanford," He looked up at her as a few tears finally escaped down his cheeks. "My dad. . . my dad told me not to come back."

She didn't hesitate before pulling him into a tight hug. It was awkward since they were both sitting down but she didn't care in the slightest. Sam broke down in her arms. Hot tears poured down his cheeks.

"It's going to be okay, you're going to be okay." Her voice was gentle, the polar opposite to how his father had spoken to him earlier.

It was moments like this that made Sam realize how lucky he was to have her. He wouldn't know what to do without her. Especially tonight. His heart has been brutally ripped apart by his father, now she would work on helping him pick up the pieces.

They were always there for each other. It was something that could be so very simple that most people didn't notice it. The way that Sam would subconsciously reach for her anytime things went South, the way she always seemed to find her way into Sam's arm after a case or fight with her parents, the way she always made sure Sam had somewhere to go.

And yet, the two had stuck with the title of best friends. Neither one of them wanted to change it much, not yet anyway. There might have been occasional thoughts that definitely weren't the kind you thought about friends though.

Her warm touch brought Sam back to the present moment. It reminded him that things didn't have to be so bad. He might have lost his father, and maybe even Dean too, but he still had her.

"You can stay here until you leave for Stanford."

Sam' head jerked up. That was months away. He had planned to- he actually didn't know what he had planned to do. He would have figured something out though. No matter how hard it was.

Sam cleared his throat, "No, I can't ask your parents to do that."

"Too bad," She retorted. "You live with us until you leave for Stanford." Her voice was firm and left no room for argument.

Her parents would understand. They always did. Even if her father and John were friends, she knew that her mother would be able to persuade her father into letting Sam stay with them. Her mother was good at doing that. Nobody could say no to that woman.

"Thank you," Sam whispered. He then rubbed his eyes, wiping away the tear streaks. It would never make sense to Sam. He couldn't believe that she cared about him this much. He was a black sheep with his family. He was the one who caused problems and didn't belong. He didn't feel that way here. He felt just as much apart of the family as she actually was.

The two fell into a comfortable silence. She kept her arms wrapped around Sam. He felt like her arms were the only thing holding him together. His own father had just kicked him out! Sam couldn't believe that Dean had shown the letter. It hurt.

None of that mattered right now. He couldn't go back in time to fix things. He had to live with everything that had just happened. He had to figure it out.

Maybe things wouldn't be so bad. He could get through anything with her by his side.

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A/N: The biggest thanks to @tranquilitybasegrunge and @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles for beta reading parts of this for me!

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[pearlesscentt]

of cool guys and part-time jobs

mark x reader, college!au, fluff, 752 words

having a job at a small bookstore was relatively stress-free compared to other part-time jobs you’d had in the past. this particular day was slow; you spent most of your time taking care of incoming shipments and doing inventory, with only a handful of customers coming in occasionally.

you loved days like this because they allowed you to put on some music and just do your thing. as if today couldn't get any more perfect, you and mark were able to squeeze in a lunch date.

mark worked at a café a few blocks away. on lucky days when they weren’t short-staffed, he visited and brought sandwiches and drinks for both of you to share—like today.

currently, you were munching on a caesar salad sub while listening to him rant about a regular who rotated between five different coffee orders and somehow expected them to know which one he was in the mood for during each visit.

“babe, we get hundreds of customers daily! does he think he’s special? why can’t he just—” something caught his eye. “wait, are those minions?”

“huh?” your eyes darted in the direction he was looking. you raised your eyebrows at him, confused about why he’d be distracted by minions.

he stood up, making a beeline toward the area where blind box toys and figures were kept. “oh, they’re not minions,” he said, leaning down to see the display closer. “what are these guys?”

they were smiskis. you walked over to his spot where he continued staring at them. “i can’t believe you cut your story short because of these,” you said, giggling.

“what are they? are they like shortcake?” he reached for one to examine the box closer. “like sonny angels but a different edition? they have similar packaging.”

“they’re smiskis.”

“smith-skis?”

“smiski,” you repeated, dragging the letters for emphasis. “i guess they’re kinda like sonny angels ‘cause they come in blind boxes too.”

“cool, cool, cool.”

“wanna know something cooler?” you asked. he nodded in response, still drawn to the bright yellow boxes. “they glow in the dark.”

“what? really?” his eyes were wide with excitement as if you’d just told him the best news of his life.

“cool, right?” you smiled at his reaction, then started walking back to the desk where you were having lunch.

he jogged to catch up with you. “babe, should we get one? let’s throw shortcake out and swap it with a cool guy.”

“shortcake is a him, not an it."

“can he glow in the dark?”

“he can’t, but so what? he’s cute!” you argued. “you can’t glow in the dark. should i throw you out too?”

“i was joking!” he chuckled, raising his hands in defense. when he saw you trying not to smile while playfully rolling your eyes, he pulled you by the waist and nuzzled his head on the crook of your neck. “baby, don’t throw me out. i’ll be good so you can keep me forever,” he whined.

giggling, you pushed him away playfully. “speaking of throwing you out,” you paused to point at the clock hanging on the wall, “your manager probably will if you don’t leave now.”

“oh shit,” he muttered. “i’ll see you later, okay?” he gave you a quick kiss on the lips before gathering his things as fast as he could and making a run for it.

you watched him with a smile as he disappeared from view. after making sure he was gone, you walked back to the smiski display and picked up the box mark was holding earlier.

“shortcake, let’s get you a new friend.”

after your shift at the bookstore, you headed straight to the café where mark worked; he only had fifteen minutes left, so it wasn’t that long of a wait. when he walked through the back door, you immediately held out a small paper bag for him.

“ta-da!”

he quickly made his way to give you a hug. “gift?” he asked when you pulled away to put it in his hands.

“open it, open it!”

when he did, he saw a familiar box. “no way! wait, no, don’t do this to me. dude, no way, you got me a cool guy!”

“yes way, i did!” you laughed. it was like watching a kid on christmas day, his eyes sparkling with excitement and a smile so contagious that it made your cheeks hurt.

“i think i’m gonna cry. i really wanted to get one earlier,” he chuckled, wrapping his arms around you again. “thank you, baby.”

click here for more of mark and shortcake! 🍓

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[georgiapeach30513]

Kind of Blind Love

Summary: Everything was perfect. Except for one thing. Him. Bucky Barnes.

Pairings: Andy Barber X Reader, Bucky Barnes X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, dark, conspiracy, exhibition, unknown exhibition, PIV sex, unprotected sex, degradation, misogyny, ownership, soulmates, breeding kink, creampie, murder (?), 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 3.7K

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Andy Barber Masterlist

It’s not very often that you find perfection.  It happens once in a lifetime, or out to the far reaches of the world.  Life isn’t supposed to be perfect; it’s meant to be messy, and full of strife.  That way those perfect moments that happen in your life hit you differently and you just know how amazing that they are and just how much they mean to you.  How you are thankful that you can have beautiful and perfect moments, so you can forget all the boring or horrible parts of life.

But what happens when every moment is perfect?  When everything you could have possibly dreamed of and been trained and bred for is happening right now in your life?  Andy reaches over the car, giving your hand a squeeze as you stare at the passing homes.  “Isn’t it strange how they’re always outside, waving and greeting us?” 

“Us?” He asks with a big of a chuckle.  “You think that the neighbors always line up outside of their homes to tell us good evening or good morning?” His hand slides from your hand over to your thigh.  Dipping under your dress, while you watch their smiling happy faces pass by.  

“Did you ever think it’s because we come through at the exact same time?” Do you?  You haven’t ever recalled the timing.  You take a mental note of the clock on the car.  4:33.  “Maybe they’re just jealous?” 

His hand moves from your thigh, sliding all the way up to your belly as you pull into the driveway.  The Wilsons outside giving you a wave.  Mrs. Wilson with a swollen belly and smiling too perfectly as she hands him a tall glass of lemonade.  “Or maybe you’re the jealous one.  You watch her often.”

Andy turns the engine off, and you spin looking at him, placing a delicate hand on his.  “We’ve — it’ll happen when it’s supposed to,” you know that you are expected to give Andy all the babies he wants.  It’s why the house is one of the largest ones here.  Right at the end of the cul-de-sac.  Perfectly positioned to watch the neighbors.  Andy had made himself the king of the neighborhood. 

“Of course it will, and besides that it’s fun trying, isn’t it?” His hand smooths over your heated cheek.  He knows exactly what to say to have a warmth bloom throughout your body.  He got off on your shyness.  You are demure, dainty, perfect.  It’s what he thought anyway.

“Have you happened to see the neighbor next door?” He growls, rolling his eyes as he slings his door open.  Walking over to your side, he yanks your door open, and drops down into your line of vision.

“I’ve told you to let that go.  The house was bought, someone moved in.  And they’re clearly living there now.  Okay?” 

“Okay,” you respond quickly.  

Andy gives you a little tickle, waiting for that million dollar smile before he picks you up bridal style.  “I just want to worry about me and you, honey,” things might not be traditional with Andy, but he has this masculine beauty about him.  You were promised he would make a perfect husband, just like he was told you would be the perfect wife.  Because everything is just perfect.

——

He steps out of his house, the darkness being the only time he stands out in the open.  He’s waiting.  Patiently waiting.  Grinding his teeth at your figure dressed in sheer fabric and lace standing in front of your husband.  What a disgusting word.  Husband.

He knew what your “family” had bred you for.  How they raised you for these moments.  The perfect, loving wife.  The wife that is poised and polished.  Attending charities while on his arm.  Your friends had the quintessential book club, and bridge game every Tuesday and Thursday.  Your husband picked you up, and you were everyone’s envy.

Every woman wants to be as happy as you are.  Every man wants to bed you.  Pump themselves into your warmth.  The epitome of everyone’s perfect fantasy.  But what they didn’t see is that your eyes are cold.  Your smile didn’t quite reach there.  You went through the motions like a perfect trained girl.  Touched him in all the right places, at exactly the right time.

Rolling his eyes, he watches as another man, and then another walks out to the edge of their driveway to ‘take out the garbage’.  He knows.  He knows that they’re going to watch the right on schedule show.  Your husband loves uniformity.  He also loves keeping the curtains just sheer enough.  They can look, but they can never touch.  

Your nightie gave everything away.  Your body trained to be aroused when you saw him.  Your nipples hard peaks poking through the lace as you tease around the straps.  With one curl and wag of his finger, you’re walking over to him.  Straddling his lap, and then the rising and fall starts.  Hands on his shoulders as he peels away the fabric.

The cocks of every man out here with him jump up in arousal.  They’ll return to their wives with you on their mind as they fuck them stupid.  They see what Andy wants them to see.  You being a good obedient wife, and giving it to him.  What their wives see is the picture of demure perfection.  What they see is a slut for her man.  

Andy’s hands knead and grope your tits until he leans over, and sucks a hardened bud into his hungry mouth.  Your body writhes as you bounce over top of him.  Mouth agape and these disgusting men start palming their crotches.  You are the most perfect aphrodisiac.  And then Andy picks you up.  Leaning you over the back of the couch and he rips the lingerie off you.  Leaving you naked and bare for your audience.  You couldn’t see them, but they crane their necks to see you.

Watching as your tits ripple with his pounding thrusts.  Watch as you turn to watch Andy have his way with you.  Begging and pleading him for something, until he lifts you up to his front, and gives everyone the best view of your soft curves.  Letting everyone see how desperate you are for him.  The perfect sexual being just for your husband.  Dipping your hand down your front and rubbing on your bundle of nerves.

It is about to start.  All of them know the reason they’re all out here, but they have to make it awkward with comments.  “How tight do you think her pussy is?” 

“He’s not going to stop until he fucks a baby in her.”

“Like a good girl, she’s only felt his cock.”

“Do you think she sounds as sweet as she looks?” 

“My wife doesn’t look at me like that.  Sex is just something she does.” 

“She looks fucking amazing taking him.  Watch her.  It’s happening,” your body shudders.  The elation of an orgasm wrecking you.  “He’s going to make her come again.”

He always does.  What they didn’t know is that this was just the beginning of the evening.  Andy would make sure you took his cock whenever he wanted, and the cruel part is that you craved him just as much.  Woke him up every day by riding his morning erection.  They didn’t realize that you are addicted to your husband.  Because that’s what you were meant to do.

“He’s about to come,” sure enough his pace is hard.  His long steady thrusts now short and pounding.  “God, she takes him so well,” your hand caresses his face, soaking him in your juices, and you kiss over the spot tenderly. 

“She’s such a slut,” he hates them.  Hates that Andy used this giant house as a stage to make everyone jealous.  The man takes a quick inhale of breath when you nod your head.  “Begging for him to fill her up like the fucking slut she is.”

Your brows furrow, and Andy crashes his lips on you, and if it wasn’t for his arms, you’d keel over.  Pleasure explodes through your body, and your soft hands rub down your belly, and he pumps into you one more hard time, letting your cunt milk him dry.  “Cumslut.”

“Cum dumpster,” another snorts.  “Since he’s having such a hard time getting her pregnant,” he chuckles again, “You think he’ll take us up on the offer?” 

Bucky twists his head in the man’s direction.  Pissed that he can’t look at you anymore as Andy kisses you back down from your high.  “What the fuck did you just say?” 

They all laugh, starting to turn to their house where they fuck a less than perfect wife and imagine it’s you.  “What the fuck did you just say?” 

“Maybe if you weren’t such a weirdo, you’d know.”

A particularly geeky looking man stays behind, waiting for the last door to close before he shrugs.  “He told Andy they’d all be willing to, um — fuck her.  That maybe she needed other’s cum to get her pregnant.  Implying that something is wrong with Mr. Perfect.  That’s why Daryl ended up with a black eye.  Remember when Andy kept the blinds closed?  Yeah, it was punishment for the suggestion.”

So Bucky isn’t crazy.  Andy did these things for everyone to see.  He is showing you off like you’re his prize.  The sick part is, you are.  You are his to do whatever he wants with.  And the worst part is, you didn’t know.  Didn’t know that he is right here.  Watching.  Waiting.  Andy couldn’t keep you forever, you didn’t truly belong to him, did you?  Your parents could have severed the bond.  They might have kept you away, but he still feels it.

He’d sit here in his boiling rage for just the right moment.  You are his.  All his.  In time, Andy would pay, and so will you for being too perfect.  In due time, you’d be reunited with your rightful mate.  There’s a reason that Andy couldn’t fuck a baby in you.  You didn’t belong to him.  You were Bucky’s.  Forever and ever more.

——

You’ve become accustomed to the mundane.  The usual.  The schedule.  So when your perfect husband did not pick you up from your bridge game, you politely asked for a ride home.  They didn’t talk.  They didn’t do anything, but go through the motions.  The people didn’t greet them on the lawn.  Waving their weird little waves with their overly excited smiles as they said ‘good evening.’

They didn’t do any of the normal things.  You squeeze your thighs together.  Your body yearning for Andy, and his possessive hand on your leg.  The way just the sound of his voice soothes you and turns you on all at the same time.  Andy didn’t tell you a change in the schedule.  He didn’t tell you anything.  And he always did.

You worry at your lip as you see your home come into view, and his car idly sits in the open garage.  “It’s good weather we’re having, huh, Mrs. Barber?” You can’t even answer the question of Jessica’s husband because you’re focused on why Andy is here, and why he didn’t come to pick you up.  But he doesn’t ask again.  His wife looks out her window, and it’s then you realize how creepy everything is.

How there’s this odd sense of unsettlement rising up your throat.  Without Andy you see the weirdness.  He isn’t here to tell you it’s fine, it’s just the schedule.  It’s just the plan.  But this isn’t the plan.  You shouldn’t be in this damn car.  You should be underneath your husband.

Hal?  Jeff?  Chris?  Whatever his name is, puts his car into park, and he turns around to glare at you, “Now, you go on and service your husband, Mrs. Barber.  Make sure to keep your face looking towards the window when you fuck him.”

“It’s nice weather we’re having, isn’t it, Mrs. Barber?” Jessica turns back to smile at you, and you’re revolted.  She never called you Mrs. Barber.

“What did you just say to me?” You stare at her creepy husband, but his grin spreads across his face.

“You have a lovely evening, Mrs. Barber,” weirdo.  You get out of your car, and he grabs onto your wrist.  “Fuck him good.  But if he doesn’t fuck a baby in you by the end of the month,” his eyes turn back to the neighborhood, and every one of their weird husbands are out at the end of their driveways.  All of them staring at your home.  All of them palming their cocks.  “Well, we all will get a chance to pump you full of our cum.  Eventually one of us will take, but the baby will be Andy’s of course.  Shh,” he puts a finger up to his mouth, shushing you, and then giving you an unsettling grin.

You slap him across the face.  Wobbling as you back away from them, and Jessica laughs a horrible laugh.  Too sweet.  Too loud.  Too obnoxious.  But not real.  Her eyes don’t crinkle at the edges.  They don’t do anything but stare at you as you head towards your home.  What in the world was going on?

“Can’t wait to see you fuck him.  Later, I’m fucking this one here, and going to pretend I’m fucking you,” Jessica laughs again.  To add emphasis to his words, he gropes his wife.  “But she doesn’t make your pretty sounds anymore, Mrs. Barber.  But do go on.  I told him he needs to mount you, and take away your breath.”

You run away.  Slinging the door open.  The light doesn’t come on.  The smoke detector is going off.  There’s an odd stench.  And…

“No,” your feet step into something sticky, and you look on the floor, ready to gag.  Following the darkened red trail to see your husband face down in a pool of crimson.  “Andy!” 

A hard body comes up behind you, engulfing you in their wide menacing arms.  A hand over your mouth,  “Shh,” he coos in your ears.  Your chest heaves with fear, remembering what that asshole said.  “I’ve been waiting for you, Bunny,” fear encapsulates your body, and tears prickle your eyes.  “We’re going to have so much fun.  What do you say?” 

His hand removes over your mouth, and you stare horrified at the once strong man crumpled on the floor, “Andy?  Why him?” 

“Because,” he spins you around to look at him, and you gasp.  It couldn’t be.  “He was fucking using you as a breeding tool.  All he wanted was to see you swollen with his child.  His perfect wife.  Perfect family.  Perfect little fucking town.  You don’t even know, do you?” 

His hands drop to his side, and you have this moment, and maybe not another to try and flee.  He is too busy fussing about your life.  The life that you were made for.  Bred for.  The life that you promised you would live for Andy!  And now one part of it is gone, lying face down on the floor, and covered in blood.  “Some things they can’t take away from me.”

You bolt.  Run right past him and out of the house.  If you were caught with him, he would die.  He couldn’t stake claim on what is his.  What your father thought he had broken.  How was a wretch like Bucky going to claim the daughter of an elite.  A daughter of the leader.  No.  He ruined all your father’s plans.

Slinging open the neighbors door, you stare in horror at Jessica as she sits there, frozen in time.  Her eyes don’t even blink.  Her husband walks out of his bedroom, his head tilting to the side, “Mrs. Barber, what’s wrong?  Have you come to play?” This is a nightmare.  A man that had his wife that was — was she even real?  Is that why the obsession with you?

You dart out of his house, despite his screams of needing to play with you.  It was all Andy wanted, a family.  You and him.  The perfect match except for one thing — him.  Bucky.  Your true mate.  It was said that those didn’t happen, until there was a string that wrapped you and Bucky around each other so tightly.  It was immediate.  The moment you and Bucky locked eyes, no one else mattered.  Having it broken was painful.  But it was enough for you to comply because it meant he would live.  He could survive and live a life of freedom while you were strapped to a man you tolerated.

Clamoring into another house, you slam the door closed.  Trying to catch your breath when an odd voice, suspended in the air, taunts, “Come out, come out, wherever you are.  My little Bunny always loved a chase.  The adrenaline always got her so — wet,” the word wet is drawn out, sinister sounding.  He had your attention, and he wanted to make sure he kept it.  You flee.  Running so fast away from him, and knowing just how impossible it was to fully get away.  

House after house saw the wives sitting in complete silence.  The most unnerving unmoving silence that stuck in your stomach and made you want to hurl.  Running and running.  Continuing to run until you stop.  Falling to your knees, you cry.  Screaming at what, you weren’t sure.  The lie that you have been living?  The chase?  The taunting of the husbands?  The women who were inhuman enough?  You were utterly alone.  

“Bunny,” you tilt your head up to the sky, screaming.  You couldn’t run anymore.  “Bunny, you don’t have to run from me.”

“I can’t have you,” you sob, lip trembling as Bucky kneels beside you.  “And it’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

“There’s one way to ensure that they can’t take you away,” you shake your head no, and Bucky tsks you.  “Let me claim you.  Have you the right away, and they can’t sever our bond.  You are rightfully mine.  Let us bond as one like we were supposed to,” would it be that easy?  Could anything be that easy? 

“You didn’t even know I’d been living next door.  Well, you knew something was wrong.  But Andy, he was too cock sure to realize the one thing that could ruin his life was right there.  Let me have you, Bunny,” his lips go to your neck, and he peppers kisses up the column, ending at the shell of your ear, and you melt into him.  “Mine.”

“Mine,” you repeat.  His hands brush away the baby hairs around your face.  Wiping away the glistening sweat that had gathered due to your fear.  His lithe and tender fingers start undoing the buttons on your dress, and with every movement you sigh.  Accepting that Bucky is yours, and you are his. 

Eagerly you tug at his own clothes.  Yanking off his shirt, and you cup his bulging length, whimpering.  He is huge.  Pulsing and hot, and so fucking big, “You can take it,” he assures you.  He gently lays you down on the soft grass, and pulls apart your legs, “Mmm, I’ve dreamt of staring at you like this.”

He struggles to remove his jeans, and you yip as his cock springs free.  “I’ll make it fit, Bunny,” you ached for him.  Your cunt weeping, ready to accommodate his heavy, thick, veiny cock.  Crawling in between your legs, he spreads you out further, while your fingers trace the mountains and valleys of his stomach.  

“Mine,” your voice is so soft.  Mine.  Mine and mine!  He is yours.  He was always yours.

“I love you,” he says before spearing into you with one thrust, and you yelp out from the pleasured pain.  It stings.  It burns.  Stretching you out in a way that you have never felt before, and yet the added pressure makes you yearn for more.  For his movement and friction because you can take it.

And yet, “It hurts,” furrowing your brows, you stare up at him, wishing he would just move.  Your body could adjust.

“I know,” he sighs, pulling out of your depths before burying himself back in to the hilt, and you see stars.  “We’re building those bonds again.  Thrust by thrust,” with every demanding word he pushes and pulls out of you.  Your body writhes with finally having him the way that you were always supposed to.

“I’ll take care of you.  This will look like a murder,” it was a murder, but you didn’t care.  You had him.  You cling to his arms as he picks up his movement.  Over and over again sinking into your warmth.  “They’ll think you were lost.  We can be alone.  Forever and ever.”

“Ever and ever,” you repeat, digging your fingernails into his skin.  Marking him in a way that he is marking you.  “Bucky!” He grunts as he jackhammers into you.  Short and pounding movements right to the center of your being.  You can feel him everywhere.  Every inch.  He is right where he belongs, in you.  Growing in you.  Being part of you.  

Crashing his mouth into yours, his movements continue.  Pushing.  Pushing.  And pushing so hard until your walls clench around him.  Locking him in place, and his thick cream spurts so deep into your stomach.  Lightning erupts through your perfect little town, sealing the deal that no one could break, except for one thing.

Until death do you part.

——

Your father makes a show out of not stepping into the blood.  Glancing around the house.  A big ‘FUCK YOU!’ Written in your husband’s blood on the garage door told him exactly who was behind this.  But he needs to find you, unless….

“Took you long enough,” Andy groans.  He takes a long draw of his cigarette, holding his stomach.  “Paramedics are on their way.”

“Well, how was I to know that you couldn’t produce a child with her, while he survived.  Two fucking years, and you never knocked my beautiful daughter up.  And I heard what you were planning.  I told you the entire state could fuck her, and she’d never get pregnant as long as he was alive, and maybe even after.  Give them a few months to fuck like rabbits, and once she’s surely swollen, we’ll move in.  You’ll have your one perfect child, and when he’s dead, maybe you can have your own spawn.”

“I could have died,” your father shrugs.  “I don’t know who is more sick; you or this organization.”

“One you freely joined, Barber.  Clean this mess up.  We’ve got eyes on Barnes, and we’ll let you know when you can come get your wife again,” he leaves without another word.  Head held high.  “Hail Hydra.”

“Hail Hydra.”

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @peaches1958 @seitmai

@smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989

@pandaxnienke @donutloverxo @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @bambamwolf87 @rogersbarber 

@harrysthiccthighss

[wooahaes]

on repeat

pairing: non-idol!dk x gn!reader

prompt: soulmate au series. 12/13

word count: ~7.0k

warnings: mentions of food. time loop au. some angst concerning not having a soulmate. also mentioned angst for other member (hao).

daisy’s notes: i feel like this one could have been longer but i didnt want it to get Too long compared to the other fics, yknow?

summary: What started as a day of making deliveries ended in Seokmin waking up on the same day. And then again, and then again… So, wherever you are, he needs to find you if he wants to see Saturday again.

Seokmin had been living his life on schedule ever since he turned ten. Before that, truly, because his parents had always set something for him (school, play, dinner, bath time, bedtime), but he knew that it became a little different after he turned ten. He had doctors appointments configured into that schedule, and every appointment had his dad holding his hand as the doctor tried yet again to work out what Seokmin's sign could be. Some of them would always be subtle and hard to detect, but there were plenty of things they could figure out.

And then when that list was exhausted, the afternoon doctor's appointments turned into Wednesday afternoon appointments with Dr. Jeon. She'd spoken to Seokmin for their first appointment with his mother sitting next to him, gauging how he truly felt about the fact he might not have a soulmate. He didn't tell her at first that it hurt to be different. Not with his mother next to him, rubbing soothing circles onto his back. He needed to smile for his mom, to be the bubbly boy she knew and loved.

Wednesday afternoon, Seokmin went back alone starting with that second visit. "My classmates made fun of me again for not having a soulmate."

Dr. Jeon had adjusted her bright pink glasses, and frowned at him. "How do you feel about that?"

That they're right, so it shouldn't hurt to hear the truth. "Bad." He'd curled into himself a little more, tugging his jacket closer to himself. Maybe he could disappear if he tried. "I can't help it."

Dr. Jeon's room was lit only by lamps and whatever light made it through the blinds and curtains. She hated the overhead lights (they buzzed loudly and she could never hear herself think, she said), and Seokmin never minded that they were off. The orange glow made things feel oddly safer. So did the fake sunflowers on her desk, tucked away behind her behemoth of a computer (Dr. Jeon said she could never keep them alive if they were real). As much as he wanted to disappear, he felt safe here. Dr. Jeon wasn't his mom. He didn't have to pretend for Dr. Jeon.

"I wish I had a soulmate," his voice was quieter that time. "Some of my classmates think something's wrong with me. That..."

She looked up from where she's been jotting something down. "That?" She prodded in that inquisitive way she did last time they spoke alone for a few minutes, and Seokmin knew he couldn't drop it without feeling guilty. "It's okay, Seokmin. You can take all the time you need."

He didn't meet her gaze. "They think that I'm never gonna be loved."

Dr. Jeon frowned again at his words. "Do your parents love you?"

His head shot up. "Yes! Of course they love me!"

"Do your friends?"

He nodded furiously. "And—And I love my friends. But what does that have to do with my soulmate?"

Dr. Jeon shook her head. "Love comes in many forms, Seokmin. A soulmate's love isn't guaranteed to be romantic, but even if it was, you aren't guaranteed to be with your soulmate. Love takes effort. My husband is a relationship counselor," she twisted her wedding ring around her finger, "and he sees plenty of couples who assume being soulmates is the only thing they need to make it work."

"But..." He furrowed his brow. "I thought soulmates were forever."

"They can be." Dr. Jeon paused. "You're so young, Seokmin, but you'll understand one day. A soulmate represents the possibility of that love, not the only existence of it." She chuckled. "Besides... You're too young to worry about romantic love. But for now, we can work on acceptance."

Acceptance...?

"Whether you have a soulmate or not, Seokmin," she said, the big beads of her earrings clinking together as she set aside her pad of notes, "you're still a person capable of loving others and being loved. It's hard for kids your age to separate out love like this, but you'll realize it as you grow up. There is nothing wrong with not having a soulmate."

Seokmin hadn't been able to accept her words for a while. Every day, he saw something new in the world about soulmates. A new drama based around them, or a new discount to those who can prove they're with their soulmate, or a new magazine with childish quizzes that pretend to predict your soulmate's traits. Every Wednesday, he found himself back on that plush couch and talking about something new. A new thing he's eliminated. Another classmate discovered their sign. News of an intern at his dad's work that found his soulmate (this one Seokmin wasn't supposed to hear). And every week, he left Dr. Jeon's sessions with those words said at the end:

There was nothing wrong with not having a soulmate... So why did Seokmin want one so badly?

Seokmin grew up. He started college, and he met Minghao through it. Eventually his routine changed as he began to balance work and school and a social life, all while living in a cozy little apartment with Minghao. Make breakfast, go to class, go to work, find time to shove food into his face, deal with more customers... It became a schedule he pretty much lived by with his social life a little less present. He'd get it back one day, hopefully. But he always made time for dinner with Minghao on Friday nights: their one day a week where they’ve completely slowed down together.

Minghao seemed more tired this week. "I'm tired of blue."

Seokmin looked up from his dinner. "Which blue?"

"Calm blue. Not sad. They're fine, wherever they are, and I should be glad for it, but I'm not." Minghao scowled.

Seokmin frowned as he watched Minghao. Their vision is filled with red now, he wanted to say. Are you okay with that? But he didn't, instead reaching out to ruffle his hair. "It'll be okay," he said. "At least they're calm now."

Minghao said nothing. He just sat there, staring, brows drawing together more and more.

"What?"

"It's darker."

His soulmate was upset by something. Seokmin averted his gaze. He kept his thoughts to himself. No doubt Minghao already had them himself: his frustration upset his soulmate. He couldn't help but wonder if that was the kind of person Minghao's soulmate was: someone who empathized even though they had no idea where their own soulmate's feelings were coming from. No doubt their vision would be clouded by those same blues. Minghao could be sharp-tongued and snarky at times, but he wasn't a monster. He worried for them whenever his vision was lit up with fiery reds and deep blues and nauseating green.

"I used to be angry, too, you know." Seokmin kept his focus on his own dinner now. "That I don't have one."

"You know I don't believe that." Minghao had always been one of the ones who, for some reason, believed Seokmin did have a soulmate. His sign just wasn't one of the obvious ones like his or Seungkwan's. But Minghao was reasonable about it, too: Seokmin was the kind of person who could forge his own soulmate if things felt right enough.

Seokmin waved it off. "But I understand being angry. It's something outside of your control, and it's hard to let that... be."

Humans, in Seokmin's experience, liked having control over themselves. He saw it in himself as a child, always wanting to have some choice in what he wore, in the foods he ate. He saw it now, too, in children when he went shopping and saw patient mothers holding up two options for their child to pick from. But he always saw it the most with his friends. The frustration that etched itself into Minghao's brows whenever the colors changed, the subtle annoyance before his thanks when someone pushed Seungcheol toward the right object, the way Seungkwan would flinch from pain sometime and wave off any concern. All things that stemmed from depending entirely upon another person in one way or another. And Seokmin felt it, too, in not having. A soulmate was never a guarantee to have love in your life, after all. Yet Seokmin didn't get to choose whether he would want this person at all. Would he? If he had a soulmate, would he fall for them? He had plenty of love in his heart to give... but would they even want it from him, too?

"You're right," Minghao's voice was softer now. "I think... I want to meet them someday."

Seokmin smiled. "I think you should."

“I’m scared they’ll hate me.” Minghao let out a sigh, staring down at his food for a moment. “So what if they do?”

“Then you’ll figure it out.” Seokmin reached across the table, squeezing Minghao’s hand gently. “If they’re your soulmate… Then they’ll try to understand you. You’ll do the same, right?”

Minghao met his gaze, but said nothing. Today wasn’t a day that he could agree with Seokmin, already too inside his own head. In time, he’d accept it: Seokmin knew he would. He just needed time, and Seokmin was more than happy to give him that and whatever space he needed. He could believe in Minghao’s soulmate enough for the both of them. 

And the day he met them face to face, Seokmin knew he’d been right: Minghao’s soulmate was patient in the way he needed them to be. Understanding, too, without any hidden malice toward him. Exactly what Minghao needed.

There was a text from Seungcheol in the group chat: dinner at jun's? i'm paying :)

Not everyone was able to make it, of course. It was horribly last minute, but Seokmin figured it had to be important since it was. A few people had their reasons to not be there (work, other things that needed doing). Seokmin, on the other hand, was free from his usual job. All he had was the option to make some deliveries for extra money, and he'd probably spend the day doing that to get some exercise in. He rolled out of bed, got ready for the day, and stepped out of his bedroom to see where Minghao was asleep on the couch. Seokmin paused, brows drawing together until he saw that he was clutching his phone still. Ah. He must have come back late last night and fell asleep while on the phone with his soulmate as they made their way home. Seokmin left him with a blanket draped over him before he headed out for the day. Maybe next time, Minghao would end up asleep in his own room.

He checked the app while waiting for the elevator. Sure enough, there were already delivery orders made. Groceries (he only ever accepted the small orders), food deliveries, flowers... Seokmin scrolled through for the closest pickup to start. He wouldn't mind the long ride to wherever he was delivering to, but there was a flower shop just down the street that Seokmin always loved making deliveries for. Flowers made people happy, after all. One popped up from someone named Minho for someone named Jinki ("a 'thank you' gift for my hyung"), and Seokmin accepted it without another thought. Soon enough he'd taken the elevator down and set out for the day, pedaling his way to the flower shop.

Jinki had been caught off-guard when Seokmin showed up to his workplace with a vase of sunflowers he'd protected with his life. He passed the message onto the man, and made his way out for the next delivery, bumping into an intern on his way out. He'd apologized to her quickly, and started out for another delivery. A grocery delivery for a single dad who was taking care of a sick kid, another run to a store for cat food for a man who'd run low and couldn't leave his apartment easily with a broken leg, a lunch delivery for a young woman at work... Seokmin went about his day like any other, always greeting people with a smile before moving onto the next thing. By the end of the day, he was exhausted, and immediately went to Jun's restaurant to rest.

Jun wordlessly set a cup of water in front of him. "Push these tables together after you wipe them down," he said. "Cheol will be here soon."

Seokmin had waved him off after agreeing, just enjoying a few minutes of downtime. It wasn't even his job—Where the hell was Mingyu?—but Seungcheol had insisted that it was important. He didn't mind helping out if it made things move a little smoother. He made his way to the back to grab the things he needed, and put himself back to work. The tables were wiped down thoroughly, and Seokmin pushed them together before straightening up. The next time the door chimed, Seungcheol had come in with the brightest smile on his face that Seokmin had ever seen.

"What happened?" He asked, pushing a final chair into place. "Minghao texted to say his soulmate had something come up. I'll let him know the good news tonight, okay?"

Seungcheol made his way over, shedding the light jacket he was wearing. "I should wait until the others get here, but..." He paused, and then shook his head. "No—I'll wait. It's important."

Seokmin stood still for a moment, mind already thrumming with possibilities. "It is good news... Right?"

He nodded. "It's..." His gaze softened a little as his smile fell a little. His happiness was still warm and welcoming, but now felt akin to the tenderness of a warm embrace than the crackling fire it had been before. "It's really good news, Seokmin."

The possibilities dwindled by tens and hundreds. No bad news... Which meant this had to be big. A promotion, or maybe he finally heard back from the graduate program he was trying to get into? Seokmin drummed his fingers along the chair he'd been clutching, before tearing him away from it. People began to file in over the next twenty minutes: Jeonghan and Joshua arriving together, Mingyu bursting into the room loudly (yes, Jun, he saw the restaurant was empty—and yes, he enjoyed resting after work) with Soonyoung coming in just a few minutes later, and eventually Vernon and Chan had joined the table while bemoaning a late bus. Mingyu helped Jun serve food as they caught up on life.

“Seungcheol,” Jeonghan called out from the other end of the table, a knowing look on his face. “You wanted to tell them something.”

Seungcheol fought back a smile. “I found them.” 

Immediately, the room went silent. Vernon was staring at him with wide-eyes, mouth agape. Jeonghan was just smiling, clearly having been informed ahead of time—and the same could be said of Joshua, who had this shit-eating grin on his face.

“Well?” Seungcheol pouted. “You aren’t going to say anything?”

“That’s great!” Seokmin decided to say quickly, and he saw the way Seungcheol then smiled. “Do you want us to keep it a secret, or can I tell Minghao?”

“You can tell him,” Seungcheol waved him off. “I just wanted to tell the rest of you. I told Seungkwan—” He then paused, “Speaking of—All of you are terrible!” He scowled a little. “I told him first and he immediately started sending me pictures of myself in ugly outfits you all swore went together!”

Jeonghan snorted, typing something out on his phone. “We didn’t do it all the time, you know.”

Seokmin chuckled, glancing over to where Jun had settled in the chair next to him. “Remember the shirt he wore to this place’s opening?”

Seungcheol let out another whine. “I didn’t know it was neon! Joshua said it wasn’t that bad!”

“It wasn’t!” 

If looks could kill, Joshua would be ash. But Seungcheol had started bickering with him about it (apparently that shirt had been a gift from Joshua… on April fools…), and Seokmin took his chance to steal another dumpling. His phone buzzed, and he glanced down at it to see it was the app he delivered for—there was someone for a restaurant not that far away. He dismissed it. He could use the money, sure, but… He’d stay at least a little longer. Just to see Seungcheol happy.

Fed up with his debate with Joshua (an immovable object against Seungcheol’s unstoppable force), Seungcheol let the topic go for now. “We’re going out on Tuesday, actually,” he said. “I think you guys will like them. We ended up shopping together for a while and talking—they’re really nice, and…”

Seokmin let his mind drift for a moment as he listened, his own heart sinking in his chest. Everyone seemed to be finding their soulmate over this past year. He looked at Jun for a moment. That meant he was the only one who hadn’t found his soulmate yet, right? He couldn’t imagine being the last person, but Jun seemed to be taking it well. Soonyoung, just as Seokmin did, went out on the occasional date—hell, both of them had dated a bit recently before deciding to prioritize other things for a bit. But it was weird knowing that he was going to be on his own now. Even Vernon and Jihoon ended up having soulmates. Seokmin had wanted to hold out hope that maybe that meant he had one, too, but…

The door opened, and in walked someone who looked at the group with wide-eyes. “Sorry—I thought this was still open—”

“It is!” Jun said, getting up and making his way toward the counter. “Sorry, how can I help you?”

The customer had started rambling about their friend, Minho, having been here a few days ago. Seokmin listened as they explained their own soulmate sign—the same as Jun’s—and he felt his feelings swirl inside of him. The computer chirped, and Seokmin moved to see that it was a takeout request. With permission from Jun, Seokmin accepted it and immediately went to snag the delivery request himself. He’d be back before the hour was over, and it’d give him some time to clear his mind. The customer had gone to an empty table, and Jun disappeared into the back to start cooking both their food and the order that Seokmin left hanging on the line.

“Hey.” Vernon had made his way over to the counter, voice lower, “Everything okay?”

Seokmin nodded, quietly sliding a fortune cookie across the counter. “I’m going to make a delivery,” he said. “Just to get some air.”

Vernon slowly nodded, immediately getting it. He’d stepped out when his own struggles were getting to him before he found his own soulmate, after all. “Gotcha. Is it a good tip?”

Seokmin glanced at the screen. Not really, but he didn’t mind: it was a small order and he wasn’t going far. It was better than no tip, at least. “Yeah,” he lied. “I could use the extra money.”

Vernon knew he was lying. But he nodded again, tucking the cookie into his hoodie pocket. “Travel safe, dude.”

All too quickly, Jun had plated the food. Mingyu had dipped into the back, delivering the dishes to the customer that sat alone, and Jun sat next to Seokmin. He’d uncapped a sharpie with his teeth, drawing a little cat onto the corner of the plate alongside a flower. Above it, he’d written some message of encouragement—all a part of the order’s request. 

“Someone else could pick up the order,” Jun capped the marker again. “If you don’t want to go.” 

Seokmin shrugged it off. “It isn’t far.” He paused, “Plus my bike is outside. I’ll be back soon, okay?”

Jun hadn’t responded, brows drawing together. He looked over to the customer in the room, watching as they ate for a moment.

“Jun?”

He took a step away, realization spreading over his features. “Sorry, I just—” He walked away, quietly greeting the customer. Seokmin watched as he rounded the other chair, hands curling around the top of it as he said something… and soon Seokmin knew. 

So he packed away the meal, tying the bag, and confirmed that the order was on its way. He’d congratulate Jun later on finding his soulmate. But now, he just needed to get out before the heat and smell of spice suffocated him. He grabbed his bike, unlocked it, and took off toward the towering building not that far into the city. It was all too easy to get into the building and get pointed toward the right floor. Normally, he’d leave it here, but he decided to waste a few minutes heading upstairs.

A young man had greeted him, breaking away from where his coworkers were gathered around pizza. One of them had already heckled him for being the one person to order something out, but it all seemed to be in good faith. The guy—Soobin, according to the app—had thanked him, quickly enough. Someone bumped into Seokmin as he was waiting for Soobin to hand him a cash tip (something he’d insisted upon), and Seokmin felt his heart leap. Maybe he’d text Jun and apologize and head home instead. Things were… off. 

Jun didn’t hold it against him when he did. All he did was wish him a good night, and Seokmin was thankful for it. 

There was a text from Seungcheol in the group chat: dinner at jun's? i'm paying :)

Which was odd. Seungcheol had already treated them out last night, so why invite them out again? What was he going to announce—a marriage proposal? Seokmin was still half asleep as he pushed himself out of bed. He'd agree to be there after he ate breakfast. He skipped it yesterday and soon regretted it. Yet the moment he stepped out of his bedroom, he saw Minghao asleep on the couch again. He sighed, rubbing his eyes as he made his way over.

"Minghao, your bed is more comfortable," he nudged him awake. "Two nights in a row? Really?"

Minghao had furrowed his brow upon waking up, staring up at him. "Two...? What are you talking about?"

Seokmin walked away, stretching as he went. "Didn't you fall asleep here the other night?"

With a confused look, he shook his head, running a hand through his hair. He stretched before reaching for his phone, looking down to see the new message on it. "What does Cheol want...? It's short notice and he knows it."

Seokmin looked up, already growing more confused. "He found his soulmate. Don't you remember? I told you when I got back last night."

"You were asleep when I got in." Minghao frowned at him. "When did he tell you?"

"Last night when we..." He trailed off, looking at his phone more clearly now. It was Friday, but yesterday had been Friday. He knew it, because he'd lived it. "We had dinner with a couple of the others, and..."

Minghao folded his jacket over his arms, and it was now that Seokmin realized this had been what he'd seen Minghao wearing on Thursday night. "You must be psychic or something," he made his way toward his room. "Don't ruin the surprise. Cheol will never let you hear the end of it if you do."

Yesterday was Friday. Seokmin knew that yesterday was Friday. So why the hell was it Friday again? Maybe he'd dreamed the entire thing. Was that a sign? He'd look into it later. Food and work would come first. He'd start looking into it when he showed up to Jun's restaurant tonight.

Sure enough, every single order he'd filled yesterday was right there today. Seokmin accepted those, too: maybe his dream meant something.

Sure enough, the night played out the same. Seungcheol announced having a soulmate. The others teased him over the past outfits he’d worn. Joshua poked fun at a neon shirt. Jun’s soulmate came into the restaurant. And Seokmin accepted that same takeout order. This time he had almost avoided the person coming in, and he’d given them a strange look when they turned back to acknowledge him this time. Again, they apologized to him after a moment before going on, checking their phone.

And then he went to sleep, and, again, it was Friday.

Around the fifth Friday he lived through, Seokmin realized a few things. He’d already figured out that he both met his soulmate and missed them (he Googled a lot that third Friday), and that he just needed to find them to break the loop. Every single day, he tried to fill the same delivery orders. He tried to go to the same places at the same time. He met the same people most of the time—he’d already missed that final order twice now, snatched up by someone else while he was trying to figure out what was wrong. 

But that was… beyond several Fridays ago. This was Friday number fifteen, and he’d managed to exact a few things. Minghao had given him something to say to prove that, yes, Seokmin was trapped in a time loop (details of his date the night before, followed by a quick enough explanation that Minghao knew wasn’t bullshit by the panic in his voice), and it’d given him an ally in every repeat day. He’d slipped up and spoiled Seungcheol’s surprise during one of the loops and given up on finding his soulmate that time. It didn’t feel fair to potentially let that be the day. 

Minghao filled a cup with ice and water. “You’re not trying to make the day perfect though, right? Because you’re going to just prolong it if you do.”

“I’m not.” Seokmin had stretched out across their couch, arms resting over his stomach. He didn’t have to leave for another few minutes. “I just didn’t want to find them after I ruined Seungcheol’s surprise.”

“He doesn’t remember now, though,” he shrugged. “Try to find them soon, though. You seem tired.”

“I am.” 

Minghao came over to him, extending the glass to him. “Then get out there and keep looking.”

“I have to stick to the schedule, though,” Seokmin accepted the glass as he sat up. “Otherwise I’ll keep missing them.” 

“Remember what we all said?” Minghao crossed his arms. “You’ll know them when you see them.”

Seokmin moved over, giving Minghao space to sit next to him. “I don’t know what that means.”

“When I saw my soulmate, I…” He pressed his lips together, looking toward the windows for a moment. “I felt like I was at peace.” Again, he paused, thinking over his words. “Like… I was ready to try to love them. To learn more about them and see why they were my soulmate.” 

That night, Seokmin posed the question of how they all knew while sitting at dinner with the others. He mouthed an apology to Soonyoung for asking a question neither of them (to his knowledge) would ever understand, but he didn’t seem all too bothered by it. The group had gone quiet, all thinking about their individual answers. And as Seokmin expected, Seungcheol had his the soonest.

“I didn’t feel anything special until I caught them,” he admitted, looking at Seokmin. “But when I did… It felt like everything was right. Like… Everything had been leading to that moment. I was where I needed to be, I think. As much as I wanted to meet them sooner, I think we found each other at the right time.”

Jeonghan nodded along to it, a soft hum sounding from him as he agreed with every sentence. “Right. I know I’m different because I’ve always known mine, but… I felt like I’d found the missing piece in my life. I know that’s sappy to say,” he laughed softly, “but it’s true. I’ve loved them this long, you know?”

Vernon had pressed his lips together. And a moment later, he nodded, too. “Right. I’d liked them for a while, but I think realizing that our sign had been right there the entire time… It all just made sense—”

“You literally made out with them immediately, don’t act all sentimental,” Chan rolled his eyes. “But… I felt this pull when I met them. Their friend had caught me, but it still felt like something was pulling me toward them.”

“Right, right…” Mingyu nodded along to that. “It felt like things were right in this way I can’t describe.”

Joshua hummed to himself, the sole person without an answer yet. He raked his fingers through his hair before meeting Seokmin’s gaze. “Maybe I’m just weird, but I didn’t really have anything like that. Like… I knew I was about to meet them since we’d agreed to meet up at a coffee shop, but the most I felt was this comfortable warmth. Like, we’d grown up sharing this experience together. It just felt like I met someone who understood me in some way.”

Seokmin noted down everything in his mind. A feeling of things being right, or a pull toward someone, or even that he’d found something he’d always been missing (although maybe without realizing it, if it were to apply to him). 

Yet he went to bed that night, woke up to another Friday, and wondered if he had broken something along the way.

Online forums helped plenty. He made and remade an account and the same post since around Friday number eight, always getting the same people chiming in and believing in him. You’ll find them soon! He’d always say how many Fridays he’d repeated, and yet there was always the same encouragement. Today was Friday number seventeen. Every single day, Seokmin woke up to the same situation. A new account, a new post. Seungcheol’s text. The same deliveries, the same thanks. The same breaks for lunch, including texting Mingyu about meeting up for coffee sometime (he hadn’t made it yet, but he was determined to). The people on the forums had told him the same thing his friends did: he would know his soulmate when he saw them.

So why was he so antsy today?

He’d shown up to Jun’s restaurant at the same time, wiping down the tables in record speed before relaxing with his cup of ice water. He listened to the clamor of pans in the back as Jun cooked for another table, eyes fluttering shut as he sighed. Friday number seventeen, and he wasn’t getting any closer, was he? Over two weeks and he’d found little ways to break up the monotony when he could. No one he delivered to was his soulmate. No one in that Jinki guy’s office had faced a repeat day (he’d done the stupid thing and stood up during day twelve and asked out loud, and he was thankful no one would remember it by midnight). No one in any of the stores he went to, either (again, day fourteen he did the same as he did with Jinki’s work). And he’d delivered to Soobin faster than ever before, only to receive no answer when he asked yesterday. 

So where was his soulmate?

Seungcheol arrived soon enough, smiling as brightly as ever. The others filed in over time, too. Jeonghan and Joshua arrived together once more, always talking about some movie they were still debating about the real meaning of. Mingyu made a big deal stretching and bragging about his short break at home with his soulmate—he’d bring the back takeout afterward. Soonyoung burst into the restaurant soon enough, always talking about how he was tired of his office being short on staff. Then Vernon and Chan, bemoaning their late bus as always, joined the table soon enough. Seokmin had known the following conversation by heart: Seungcheol announcing that he found his soulmate, followed by him pouting when no one immediately said anything. Seokmin always found himself being the first to congratulate him, saying he’d pass word along to Minghao if he wanted. Seungkwan sent Seungcheol all of the ugly outfits they’d lovingly tricked him into wearing over the years (never for serious events—always for a stupid get-together with the full group). The neon shirt. Jun’s soulmate would be there soon. They always came in at the exact same time…

Jun reached out, fingers brushing against Seokmin’s bicep and tearing his eyes away from his watch. “Are you okay?” His voice was soft enough to not alert the others, and Seokmin barely paid him any mind at first.

“Just waiting for something.” He paused, then realized that he was the only person present who knew of his situation. He looked up, shaking his head as he turned to Jun. “Sorry! Sorry, I’m fine. Just…” He glanced at the door for a moment. Any moment now. “Waiting.”

Seungcheol spoke up again about his soulmate, and Seokmin was thankful for the change in topic. He’d explain it all in due time. Hopefully today would give him another do-over and he wouldn’t worry Jun. Soon enough, the door jingled, and Seokmin rose up out of his chair. Jun’s soulmate was here, which meant the order from Soobin would be coming in soon. He’d made his way over to the computer, tapping at the edge of it as he waited impatiently. Soon. Soon. Jun had stood up, excusing himself from the group to unknowingly speak to his soulmate.

“Sorry,” Jun’s soulmate had said to him, and he slid them a menu without much thought. “My friend, Minho, came here with a couple of friends…”

Seconds passed with each tap of Seokmin’s finger. Soobin’s order. Always steamed pork buns and fried rice and some sort of beef or pork (the only thing that might change—the tiniest change that didn’t affect anything). He pressed his lips tighter together. Tomorrow, he’d start from the top. He’d ask everyone. He’d tell everyone that he was stuck in a time loop. Minghao would help him convince them all. If they knew that Seokmin was looking for his soulmate, they would help. 

The computer chimed. Seokmin tapped the order, reading over it. Steamed pork buns. Fried rice. Beef. And…

And more?

He hesitated to accept it, glancing over to Jun and his soulmate.  “Jun. There’s a request for takeout.” He paused for just a second, “I’m gonna confirm it, alright?”

Jun waved him on, and Seokmin felt his heart hammering in his chest as the ticket printed out. He made his way to the kitchen, clipping it to the line for Jun to refer to. This had to be a sign. You were there. You had to be there, right? No one ever changed their order like this. His brows knit together. Had he done something to set off some sort of butterfly effect? Was he just giving himself false hope now? He wanted out of this loop, soulmate or no soulmate. He’d lived this Friday seventeen times now, and all he wanted was to wake up on Saturday morning and go get coffee with Mingyu because Mingyu was offering. Mingyu would pay for a slice of cake or whatever dessert he wanted, too. And at this point, Seokmin had earned the same thing.

“Is everything okay?” Jun had approached him, keeping his voice low—again, mindful of what little privacy they had with so many of their friends present. “You seem… different.”

He shook his head. No need to worry him yet. “The ticket’s on the line,” he couldn’t stop staring at the screen now. An extra order. For what? For who? Jun hadn’t budged. Seokmin decided to lie: “Just… thought I recognized the name.”

Thankfully, Jun shrugged it off. Mingyu had made his way to the kitchens to help, and Seokmin held himself together. He would not get his hopes up. Not too high. This could be it, or it could be some sort of butterfly effect. He took a different way to the store earlier, after all. Wasn’t that what the whole thing was based around? Small actions having bigger impacts? Wonwoo would know. He was smart, he’d probably read about it. Maybe he’d ask Wonwoo about it on Friday number eighteen, if he woke up on Friday again. 

The food was made and plated before Seokmin knew, and he watched as Jun uncapped a sharpie with his teeth. He’d drawn a little cat onto the corner of one of the lids—the unfamiliar order, Seokmin realized—and then drew a little flower next to it. He’d always done it for Soobin’s order. Would that change things, too…?

“Someone else could pick up the order,” Jun said as he re-capped the marker. “If you don’t want to go.”

“No!” Seokmin paused. When did he get so desperate? He waved a hand, trying to act casual again. “I mean—The money is good, and my bike is outside.” Please don’t push. “I’ll try to be back to help clean up.” But if this is it, I won’t. I can’t. Please understand. Seokmin tied the bag tight after throwing in a few sets of utensils and more than enough fortune cookies. He picked up the bag, stopping to turn back to Jun. 

His soulmate was right there, and Jun hadn’t realized it yet. Maybe…

“Jun?”

Jun looked up from where he’d begun to tidy up behind the counter, that same earnest look on his face. Seokmin always wondered what he looked like when he realized that person was his soulmate. Even when he missed being able to deliver Soobin’s order, he tried to go out, to retrace his steps and hopefully run into his soulmate. Then again… Would telling him throw things off even further? Or would Jun even want for him to tell him? 

Seokmin opened his mouth, then closed it a moment later. He turned, looking at Jun’s soulmate. They were sitting alone, about to break into their meal. Jun would know soon enough. And… if it were him, Seokmin wouldn’t want to have the moment given to him like this. He turned back to Jun one last time. “Actually… Don’t worry about it. I’ll be back later.”

He could see the concern on Jun’s face, clear as day. No doubt he would be calling him come morning. Seokmin made his way out of the restaurant, waving to the others and saying he’d try to be back as soon as he could. Soon enough, he’d unlocked the bike lock and tucked it into his bag, strapping on his helmet. He’d biked this path so many times he knew it by heart, no need to keep track of his location through his phone’s map. He left his bike near the doors in the lobby, the way he always did when the secretary let him into the building. The elevator ride felt shorter than normal, and Seokmin found himself hesitating. He could hear Soobin and his coworkers talking in the other room. 

He shut his eyes, took a deep breath, and made his way forward. Soobin lit up when he saw him. Again, he was heckled by another coworker for ordering something else, and Soobin waved them off.

“I’m not the only one,” he’d said this time. “They’re—” He paused, looking around, only to roll his eyes. “They’re in the bathroom still—”

“I’m here!”

Your shoulder bumped against Seokmin as you rushed in, and Seokmin felt his heart leap. It was you. You’d bumped into him that first day while Soobin was giving him the cash tip he’d insisted on. And now you were pulling out your own wallet, insisting on covering a cash tip since Soobin hadn’t tipped enough on the app. You’d been rambling about how today you felt like something other than pizza, and…

“It’s you.” 

You looked up, blinking as you stared at Seokmin. “Me…?” And then it clicked, those pretty eyes lighting up with realization. “You—” You had gasped, eyes already growing teary. “You’re—”

Seokmin could kiss you now, relief flooding every single cell in his body. He’d dropped the bag onto Soobin’s desk, ignoring the way the guy dove to make sure nothing spilled, and stepped forward. You had immediately wrapped your arms around him, squeezing him tight. Something felt right about it all, like his life had come together in a way he never knew it could have. The rest of your coworkers had gone quiet, and Seokmin had let himself cry a little. 

“I’ve been looking for you,” he said, voice wavering. He held you tighter, “I—I almost thought I wouldn’t find you.”

You said nothing and just let yourself cry out of relief. 

When you finally pulled away, it was to tell your coworkers that you needed to leave soon. You knew just as well as he did that the two of you needed to be together when midnight struck, and you weren’t going to work through the entire night. Not with Seokmin right there with you. It seemed to renew the energy in your team as all of you got to work. You pulled a chair over for Seokmin to sit near you while he waited, and he took the chance to text a few things out:

To Minghao: I’ll see you saturday

To Jun: I’ll explain tomorrow :) don’t worry about me. I’m okay now.

And to Seungcheol: I found them. 

You had paused for a moment, looking at Seokmin curiously. After a moment, you caught yourself staring, and grew flustered. “Sorry. Just… What do you want to do? We've got some time to kill until midnight, so...”

Seokmin had been living his life adhering to routine. From childhood to adulthood to the past seventeen Fridays, everything had a time and place for him to be. So he just smiled at you, rolling his chair a little closer to you: “Whatever you want to do.” He paused, deciding to go all in on being cheesy. “Let’s follow our hearts this time, okay?”

And you, who had found routine over and over in your own life, smiled and made living on repeat worth it with that smile.

taglist: @twancingyunhao @wonuziex @synthetickitsune @staranghae @porridgesblog @weird-bookworm @bangchansbae @laylasbunbunny @bewoyewo

[lilsluttyy]

how about geto or gojo (which ever one you wanna do or both 😏) cheat on the male reader with an girl and its like really angsty and sad

✪ cheater Gojo X male reader

✪ warning: angst , cheating , hurt no comfort

✪ ??? Au

------------------------------------

" Why me "

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Lately you've felt as if you and your boyfriend were drifting away , Gojo always finds away to ditch you on your dates and whenever you two had the chance to hangout together he always says ' sorry babe my friend needs me with them right now ' it's always that excuse.

Everytime you asked him about his ' friend ' he wouldn't even share a single info to you.

You and Gojo's anniversary was around the corner while you were busy looking for the perfect gift he was out there having fun , how you wish you weren't blinded by love. Each time Gojo made an excuse you forgave him , even Getou and Shoko was concerned but you kept brushing it off like it was nothing. If he had fallen out of love why couldn't he just let me know and let me move on.

Why is he letting me suffer.

" you're overreacting babe I would never fall out of love with you " Gojo would always say that to your face with a bright and confident smile. ' how I wish that the words you say were true ' you could only smile and nod , at first you thought it was the paranoia getting into your head but the evidence was just Infront of you. The text from a certain girl who you never knew nor met , but you didn't question ' he's quite famous so I don't blame him for having people's numbers '

How you wish you weren't so forgiving.

" Gojo..where have you been..? " you stared at him with no emotions swimming in your eyes , he chuckled slightly " sorry babe my friend needed my help " the excuse was nothing new " what's with the decorations did you celebrate a friend's birthday? " you felt your heart breaking. All this time you've been enduring all this pain , you ignored how obvious it was that Gojo was cheating on you yet you stayed.

All because you ' loved ' him.

-

Time around you felt like it stopped when you see him kissing another girl , ' no wonder he isn't picking up my calls...' the gift you were holding for your anniversary now meant nothing.

You looked away , your heart completely shattered.

-

You sat on the couch waiting for him to arrive, your bags and suit cases packed. The only things you wanted to leave behind was all of Gojo's gift from the early days when you two were dating and in love. Now was different , you stared at the door waiting for Gojo to walk in.

Time passed and he still wasn't here , you sighed to yourself before dialing a certain someone to pick you up " Suguru do you mind coming over..." after putting down the phone you picked up your bags and placed it infront of the door , you looked back and the lost memories of you and Gojo still wonders around. You of course didn't forget to write a small note for him if he does come back , a knock on the door pulled you out of your deep thoughts.

" (m/n).."

You smiled as you opened the door and Suguru was standing there , " I'm sorry I wasn't there for you earlier..." Suguru's eyes was filled with pity and regret.

" don't apologise Suguru..it's not your fault " you softly said as you picked up your bags and walked out the door , Suguru quickly offered to help carry your bags which you accepted. The second you walked out of that door , you felt this wave of relief. As much as you loved Gojo he wasn't able to return the feeling anymore , the weight in your heart felt as if it was lifted. You took a deep breath when you walked out the apartment and headed to Suguru's car , you stopped your tracks and looked back to the tall building.

Suguru placed your bags carefully in his car and looked over to your figure.

" (m/n) are you ready "

" yeah I'm ready to let go..."

-

Gojo walked into his apartment after spending the night with his side piece , hickeys littering around his neck and his scent smelled like cheap perfume. He looked around and realised something's weren't there such as (m/n)'s things that he'd put on the shelves.

" (m/n) baby where are you? " Gojo called out but to his surprise (m/n) didn't answer , usually whenever he called (m/n) out he would welcome him with kisses.

As he made his way into the house Gojo sees a small note that was decorated by (m/n)'s handwriting.

-

Dear Gojo,

If you are reading this i hope you realise that my things are gone. I also left the gifts you left me in your room , I'm not leaving because I fell out of love.

It's because of you Gojo.

I really did thought we were meant to be , but it seems like I was just your plaything. If you had told me you've fallen out of love I would have let you go , but you decided to make me suffer and I was to in love with you to even acknowledge the fact you were cheating.

But I had enough I thought if I brushed it off , it would hurt me less but no it hurt me even worse than before. The way you forgotten everything about ' us ' hurts me , I wish you the best with you new relationship and don't ever try and find me. You probably won't anyways.

Your used to be beloved ,

(m/n)

-

The paper dropped to the ground at tears had soaked it up.

-

Ja jang I got to bummed out at the end

[married-to-google-translater]

Hi, can you do the yandere morarity the patriot (did I spell that right, I'm sorry) reaction to reader being from america and being so fascinated by the boys and their british culture, however gets terribly bullied by the other britians for being 'uncultured' and not knowing the basic manners and stuff.

I do this for Yandere William James Moriarty... Since you didin't say wich character

Yandere William James Moriarty

William thinks you'd be really cute.

You had just moved to town and asked him for directions.

That's how you two met and "became friends".

You would be a light in this dark world William.

He would be happy to teach you British culture.

However, not everyone is equally kind to you.

Getting William's attention would make many an aristocratic lady jealous.

Oh and they could be really mean to you.

You certainly wouldn't have as much money as William, but you would enjoy his company.

There would be nothing more for you. However, others would not really believe such a thing.

William would begin to notice differences in your behavior.

He noticed how you would often feel like a monkey and you wouldn't want to see him as much anymore.

You don't have to be a genius to figure out what's going on.

Oh William would be really angry.

Although this would be his fault for not protecting you from this dirty world before.

However, it would end now.

William would promise to protect you better and cleanse this world.

Fortunately, now he would know where to start :D

Yandere Sherlock Holmes

Sherlock could be a really difficult person if he wanted to.

Yandere Sherlock would certainly be no exception.

You and Sherlock first met at the police station.

You were a successful detective in America and you had been sent to London to help Sherlock.

Yeah, Sherlock really hates the idea.

He didn't really "need help" in this case.

However, no one really listened to him.

Culture shock would be difficult for you and Sherlock certainly didn't make the situation any easier.

This guy wouldn't have that much empathy.

He teased you about a lot of things.

However, this would stop when Sherlock started to realize that you could be helpful.

You're really good at your job and Sherlock wouldn't be blind.

His Yandere tendencies would begin to awaken.

Even if Sherlock teased you he wouldn't let anyone else do the same to you.

He would notice such things easily and those people would face great misfortune.

Sherlock would be good at solving crimes and really good at staging them.

He would be willing to do it for you too.

Yeah, you really wouldn't go back to America...