#also 'pls whys it so hazy i wanna See'

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

13 era has many shots i love but also many that i hate. idk if it's just that ive watched it more than any other era so im bound to notice more but it's like it's never unnoticeable. i hate it or i love it but im never not aware of it. when i think about other eras im not thinking abt the camera so much

[miupow]

⭑𓂃 GETTING STONED W/ TXT .ᐟ ୭ ˚. [ HEADCANONS]

☆〜（ゝ。∂）txt x gn!reader ⋆ cw// drugs/marijuana mentions! sfw, tooth rotting fluff <𝟑 kissing, cuddling, implied established relationships

⤷ what i imagine it's like smoking with the boys . . .

연준 YEONJUN

i imagine him high is a lot like him drunk lol

soft, sleepy, cuddly and just the biggest baby whining that he wants kisses now

likes using your lap as a pillow for his head, the type to nuzzle his face in your belly and wrap his arms tight around you-- won't you play with his hair? tell him what an amazingwonderfulhandsome boyfriend he is?

tries very hard not to fall asleep on you but fails every time

pls take care of him :(

finds the other boys annoying when they're high lol but still does it with them because they're his baby brothers and he loves them no matter how much they piss him off <33

cannot smoke without you because he'd spend the entire sesh going "where's my baby?? i wanna see my baby, i miss them so much :(("

수빈 SOOBIN ⭑𓂃

the kind to just stare blankly at the wall for hours

"bin, you okay?" "uh huh..."

probably gets sensory overload easily, don’t have too much going on at once or he’ll get a headache :<

soogyu is my dream blunt rotation im gonna be honest they're so fucking funny they just be sayin shit

high bin says the some of funniest things you've ever heard in your life but he has no idea he's even being funny

"why are you laughing at me??? :(("

gasps when you tell him you love him even though you tell him every day

“REALLY??? I LOVE YOU TOO!!!”

will get into the dumbest arguments, especially with gyu?? “what do you think would happen if you put a werewolf on the moon…” “what the hell is wrong with you??”

“no, dumbass, that’s not even how ufos work. look it up.”

범규 BEOMGYU ⭑𓂃

true delulu headcanon time here but hear me out okay

he's so crazy adhd brain high energy when he's sober but i feel like when he's stoned he's so. chill?

put a movie on or something and he'll be quiet for hours he's just so transfixed by the moving colors and lights

just wants to cuddle with you in silence or like. talk about deep shit

you honestly kind of love it because you'll have conversations about your future and your relationship that gyu wouldn't take seriously sober

he's very upfront and straightforward with his feelings when he's stoned, which is so unlike him

says some corny shit with stars in his eyes like "i wanna spend forever with you" and then regrets it later because he sounded like a dweeb

he's so whipped for you and he can't hide it :<

let him lay on your chest, playing with his long pretty hair, calling him beomie while he looks up at you with hazy, unfocused but so in love eyes

again soogyu = dream blunt rotation gyu is so funny

“do crabs think fish are flying??” type mf i love him very much

태현 TAEHYUN ⭑𓂃

this might be an unpopular opinion but tyun is absolutely the biggest stoner out of the five of them

i feel like he would smoke to relax, not necessarily to get high-- he's on stress overdrive 24/7, especially during comeback season,, he smokes to finally make his brain go quiet for at least a night

big social smoker but also enjoys smoking alone or just with you

i see him the most like his sober self, quiet and content and not really paying much attention to anything

normally you have to fight him to get his picture taken but when he's stoned he'll just let you shove a camera in his face and you love it sm,, "tyunnie!! baby! smile!"

very content with letting you sit on his lap while he zones out, nuzzling his neck-- he loves feeling needed, loves taking care of you

thinks everyone else is very entertaining, just enjoys watching his brothers act like idiots

he's such a bottled up guy, doesn't like to show or talk about how he's feeling ;; but he'll open up easily once you get him loosened up

휴닝카이 HUENING KAI ⭑𓂃

i want to smoke with this boy so bad. it's not even funny.

he's so cuddly and sweet and giggly,,, i lob him,,

he gets too out of it to kiss you so he makes your plushies kiss eachother instead hehe

kiss his freckles :< just give him so many smooches all over his face while he laughs that it tickles

spooning is a need not a want. he'd rest his chin on the top of your head and hold you soso close while you lay on his bed watching a movie ;;

like soobin he probably gets overstimulated easily,, he needs the lights off and he likes when you wear soft/fuzzy clothes,, ur his plushie now :<

will not let you get up for anything at all. will literally follow you to the bathroom and wait outside of the door like a puppy

SOOO much skinship he needs to touch and be touched so badly

goes totally nonverbal when he's stoned. will not say a word for hours

TUMMY RUBS also lays his head on your belly ;;

thinks literally everything is funny. show him a picture of like. a horse and he'd laugh at it

[luv-beam]

i am so fucking upset I AM SO FUCKING UPSET . i cannot convey how absolutely devastated i am like im sitting here in the dark unable to fully convey KANFKDNFKFJFJFNFN AHHHSHFJRJGKKGKGKFKFKFKFKGKFK

okok im sorry i do have some things to say as general statements abt my experience and ur skills before we get into some of the nitty gritty 😭 but first off, moni, i am ashamed to say i somehow missed that u dedicated this to me. i am so so sorry for not seeing it for some awful reason, but pls know that i am so honored—like beyond honored and appreciative. u r crazy good at ur craft and i am so happy ur posting ur fiction for us to read :'))

also, i def mentioned it in my notes below, but i loooove the film quality of your writing. like the i could see the color shifts. OH MY GOD I ALSO DIDNT TALK ABT THE RELATION OF WINTER TO THE SENEFNKRNFJT TO THE END IM UPSET AGAIN i literally cannot. u have a talent for coaxing me to hand over my heart and then watching u squeeze it :')))) im upset :')))) ur really too good and i... im biting my knuckles and struggling to type bc i wanna cry

thank u for this. i know u say this fic is something ur most proud of, and that is incredibly well merited. like oh my god. i can't right now i kind of just want to cry

also, before i put my notes below, i wanted to include the songs i listened to during this and i think i def picked an appropriate playlist skfnekfn: they see me dream (tbz), future me (hailey knox), dream launch (wayv), wings (tbz), smiling thru. (slchld), square one (tbz), someday faraway (labit), empty box (atz), same dream, same mind, same night (svt), 111 (thuy), the race (chris james), heaven - acoustic (onerepublic), raise y_our glass (huh yunjin)

omg i do have to comment on the presence of two of my like,, "older brother" figure idols uji and namjoon ekfnkrnf i always imagine them in that kind of way so the vibe just feels all the more warm haha (despite the hazy sleep-deprived solidarity going on dkgnjrnf)

WAIT.... THE CONVENIENCE STORE FROM THE TEASER... OH NO.

IT RESEMBLES UR BED AFTER A LONG DAY OF WORK BUT IT DOESNT LIVE UP TO HIM?? im devastated in two sentences

the picking your fingers until blood spills is such a great humanizing detail

still, the lilacs have yet to bloom.

omg im such a sucker for flower symbolism,, this feels like a low-key reference to feelings between u and changmin? OH I SEE THEY DINT EVEN KNOW EACH OTHER YET SKFNDKFN THIS CHANGES THINGS

PLS THE "im sure they wouldn't mind working w u" ASSIGNED PAIRINGS IS SOOOOOO im getting ptsd from middle school 😭😭 that feeling of everyone knowing someone and ur just kind of alone, knowing no one will likely come to u themselves,,, but changmin... tsk tsk i have a feeling abt you....... IM ONTO U SIR

you look back at changmin; he’s still looking at you. ; (you’re still thinking about the dips in his cheeks.)

IM ONTO U JI CHANGMIN (also so real tho... his dimples are like... meant to be the centerpiece of an art gallery)

KUMON. (i mercifully never had to face that, but maybe that's why i fkn suck at math today 💀)

oh no....

i swear this is related, but im listening to wayv's dream launch and reading this part in particular w the song is so... i feel so emo rn like its okay yn-bear... you'll be okay i swear, i know it sucks now but one day ur dreams will come true even if its hard to detach ourselves from our parents' expectations and influences

also the imagery here is so visceral and vivid... like i can see it in my mind, the way you're so used to the feeling, but u still shake them off anyway bc u dont want them to linger; u can't breathe w them there, so /present/

don’t you think that some of the stories that we read hold fragments of someone?

i love this line and totally agree w this

also wanted to add that changmin trying to coax this info out of them is so :(( i love him

AWH WAIT PAPERCUT ART AND FORMING IMAGES OUT OF THEM SUCH A COOL IDEA its like the deletion(?) poetry where u take a piece of text and blot out all words except for certain ones to form poetry?

the idol comment,,, the fourth wall is shaking

OMG THE PIC???? SO GOOD WHAT I LOVE THIS AND AS A VISUAL AID/SUPPLEMENT TOO?? omg and ending this section w the single lilac having bloomed TT ugh i love callbacks to symbols

your tastebuds long for cheongju.

baaaaaanger line

jongseobs characterization >>> I LOOOVE IMPISH YOUNGER SIBLING CODED CHARACTERS

still, you stand in the middle of the mart and your heart longs for home.

and this one too ^ i feel this. the exhaustion and yearning that settles in your bones until ur convinced emotion really does carry tangible weight i love longing-for-homeisms

you and changmin were once painted with the hues of the sun. this reunion is tainted with blue.

I CHOKED. also i would like to comment on the delicious pacing of this past scene from when u realize who's standing right next to u and how the world seems to rush back toward the present from the past and ur frantic and slapping money into jongseobs palms and then—"yn?"—world stop. IIIIINHALES .. SCREAMS SO GOOD

love the blue stain over my view btw

idk how to feel abt the grape flavor being yns favorite 🧍🏻‍♀️ u do u tho

THIS???????? THIS!!!!!!! what did u deserve to know just feels so right in this situation,, when you've fallen out of touch who used to be ur world—when u r no longer their world or in their world, how much should you reveal? do they still care? where is the line drawn now?

if you miss home, why is your first instinct to run away from it?

im tearing at the walls. i am unfortunately devastated by this question. home is such a... its a complicated thing for so many people.

the black limbs slowly ate away at your heart; the void was born.

THEYRE BACK but now, instead of simply curling arounf ur heart, they're digging their nails into it and ripping chunks of it away

the lingering feelings of envy and resentment of changmins home life versus yns is so... like i think it adds such an important layer of nuance to their relationship

because you still wanted more for him than you did for yourself.

OH MY GOD

oh my god

AND THE DISTANCE FEELS GREATER NOW.. oh my god... the silence and the negative space r so loud... oh my god.....

the contrast to the next segment in summer is so staggering dkgndjnfnf also congrats to them for levelling up in friendship to calling each other fuckers!! LMFAO i adore their little back n forth here haha their arguing over the phone, to arguing over popsicle flavors

LOVEBIRDS SKCNDKFNKFNXKDKKDKD

astrophysics is cool when someone on yt is explaining it in layman's terms or ur in the space.com website, but not when ur looking at all those nightmarish equations... *shudders violently*

from that day on, you’ve learned to keep his name out of conversations. you’ll enjoy what you have with changmin, even if it has to be kept under the wraps.

in a way, this is like a form of protection, not only protecting ur own freedom and agency but akso protecting the person who has wormed his way into ur life and is determined to stay,, someone who seems to be the one good thing happening to u at that moment

im so... i wish i could sit yn down and give them a hug and a pep talk. they do know how to persevere. they're literally pushing thru right now

FINGER TRAP FINGER TRAP TITLE MENTIONED THIS IS NOT A DRILL

omg THE PROFILES SJCBDJFN THEYRE GONNA BE INTERVIEWING OUR BOYZ DJFBKDNCKDNF i am Howling at the moon

THIS??? IS FUCKING EVERYTHING???????? the different colors of cheongju seep thru gaaaaaaawd the careful wall you've built to rpetend ur past is behind u has now returned to remind u that it does, in fact, still exist. it will not hesitate to break ur bubble of present reality

i have a violent urge to throttle a couple who are poor excuses for parents

also just bringing in the murky waters rising and drowning u and filling ur lungs is just as compelling and visceral through this section. like u described it perfectly well, how when ur starting to lose oxygen, your chest burns and its slow but throbbing

are you nothing but an array of achievements and failures?

aren't we all though? :(

NOW UR HOME IS CHANGMIN.

i love just imagining ur writing like a movie, like this part in particular u can just kind of envision these things flicking across the screen chuchuchuchu—back to the present. finger traps.... clinging onto those fragments of the past... when u try to rip your fingers out of a finger trap, it grips onto u tighter; a slow withdrawal is the only way to escape... oh god

WHY DOES IT FEEL LIKE ONE OF DESTINY x2 I SEE U MONI I SEE YOU.

HE WAS THE ONE OUTSIDE THE BATHROOM IM GONNA GNAW MY FINGERS OFF

im very slow today but the incorporation of all four szns into the sections of this fic is like mwah MWAHMWAHMWAH and hE CANT WAIT TO SHARE THIS SZN W U?? IM YELLING??? ugh i think im too single.

dude my heart dropped into my ass . what r these fuckass parents doing

WHAT NINONOENFOFNFJFJ NO WHAT MONI STOP NO U CANT JUST LET THE CAR GO NO HE'S RIGHT THERE NO NONONOSNFJDNFJFJ im having a crisis no WHAT

. oh my god

Oh my god that hurts. Oh my god i cant im so

im

oh im so upset they never got closure they never got to say goodbye ur right the only way to get out of a finger trap is thru a slow withdrawal—unless the connections is severed so forcefully, it just breaks .

oh my god

i dont wanna read this interview im so upset

im so fucking upset.

finger trapped (ripped to its seams) ➵ ji changmin

ji changmin x reader

with an unexpected reunion, you and changmin relive the memories of cheongju—and confront what could’ve been between you two.

general genre/warnings ➵ friends to almost lovers, angst, fluff, gender neutral reader, some depressive and insecure thoughts, hurt/comfort, the last five years story-telling method (aka present will be told going backwards while past will be told moving forward... i hope that makes sense), brief mention of blood from picking on your skin, tiger parents so... parental issues, unexpected reunion, keeping secrets & lying, jealousy remains but love triumphs, journalist reader (u kno i had to do it), reader is a nerd and changmin is a student-athlete, kms jokes from jongseob (all /lh), finger traps aren’t efficient after all

word count ➵ 15.7k words

playlist ➵ end of beginning by djo // high school in jakarta by niki // i know it won't work by gracie abrams // no big deal (i love you) by dodie // keeping tabs by niki // no one knows by stephen sanchez & laufey // so what now by reneé rapp // i wish i hated you by ariana grande // the 1 by taylor swift // seasons by wave to earth

a/n ➵ it's finally out! this is my submission for @deoboyznet's the love letter collective event! this work is so so personal to me on so many levels so i hope you all love and treat this fic with care :')) for the bitches who struggle with parents and dreams.... this one's for you (i am in the same boat) i appreciate everyone who's been so patient and looking forward to this fic's release. i'd like to thank @hcuyk for being a betareader for this fic! i also want to dedicate this one to @sungbeam and @wavesmp3 <3 your works inspire me so much and i think this fic is a product of how much they've influence me. hanbin's version is now available! please don't forget to reblog and leave feedback!!

want to be part of my taglist? send me an ask! masterlist

present -> three weeks after the interview, 2024

the newsroom never sleeps. the rings of landlines and clacks of keyboards bounce off the four walls. through light bulbs or sunshine, light continues to remain. and at every corner, a journalist stands—ready to enter the depths of slumber but remain on their toes as they await for an update on their unraveling story.

but the newsroom is rarely busy unless there’s a major nationwide event, election season or the super bowl to name a few, for most journalists are out to discover what the world has to offer.

knowledge doesn’t only come from the chitchat of your coworkers. it’s only on the field that you’ll hear of hearsay and testimonies. after all, the choice to probe rests on your shoulders.

“there’s a typo over there.”

“huh? where?”

“over here,” you mumble as your finger darts to point at a section on the screen. “it’s supposed to say “in their climactic performance on road to kingdom,” not climatic.”

“ah, i see it now. sorry about that,” lee jihoon of digital development says as he corrects the error. his hair is disheveled from the hood that once perched on his head during the night he spent in the newsroom. you would’ve scolded the guy—go home and take a shower before you stink up the place—but you are no better, grouped with the other journalists who stayed up in the office.

“there we go. should be all good. now, are you ready to go through the profiles?”

an exhausted chuckle departs from your lips. “yeah, let’s go—”

“what’s the update?” life and arts editor kim namjoon—your editor—comes to you with a smile.

the grey hoodie he wears paired with comfortable jeans shows that he’s a little relaxed. for once, you don’t see him on his phone, battling the deadlines or getting pitched stories by the other editors. it’s a nice sight but one that won’t last for long.  

“we just finished going through the article about the group, so we still have yet to go through the profiles.” jihoon then looks at you. “i can’t believe you basically wrote 12 articles. like, 11 profiles and one main article is a lot. you didn’t want to work on it with anyone else?”

once namjoon stands beside you, you bump your shoulder against his figure. “i didn’t have a choice, did i?” it’s a rhetorical question but one your editor still chooses to answer.

“unfortunately, we’re understaffed, but it seemed like you got the hang of it. i wouldn’t have trusted anyone else to do it.” namjoon shoots you a smile before redirecting his attention back to jihoon. “and as much as i’d love to tell y/n more, we have to pick up the pace.” without any further questions, the three of you resume with work. 

there’s no time to waste in the journalism industry. still, his praise doesn’t go unnoticed. 

one article turned into eight done in a matter of 30 minutes, all with the help of three pairs of eyes to go through them. (namjoon seemed to carry the heavy lifting. after all, the guy was trained to be quick in reading and spotting errors.)

it should’ve been easy to keep up with your editor for all the other articles; you know each profile like the back of your hand.

then, the face of a boy who you once knew sits on the screen.

his gaze seems to pierce through your soul, almost in the same way you last talked to him. the loose ends of composure slip through your fingers; your breath’s stuck in your throat as the hammering of your heart fills your ears. yet, he stands still on the monitor.

as your eyes drift through the passages you’ve written, every sound is drowned out. the voice of your editor fades like the everchanging seasons and the clicks of the keyboard resemble the sobs you let out in the comfort of your childhood room.

and suddenly, the hands of the clock have turned all the way back to 2014. the cubicles transformed into aisles of chips and instant ramen, and you hear mr. kim’s voice in the distance—i have some hotteok! fresh from the pan! but amidst it all, you hear the giggles of the boy, your best friend, as he rushes towards you—i’ll go audition and make you proud. as your arm is wrapped with the heat of his fingers, you almost believe that your life as a journalist is nothing but a dream—

“i knew him.” the illusion disappears within a blink of an eye. namjoon’s eyes snap towards you and jihoon stops scrolling through the website. “we went to the same high school.”

you aren’t sure why you revealed that to your coworkers, let alone your boss. it’s an old memory—your weight to carry. before you can apologize for disrupting their work, namjoon’s hand rests on your shoulder, his thumb drawing shapes into it. when you look over at him, you’re greeted by his smile. it resembles your bed after a long day of work or a slow day at the newsroom.

but it never lives up to him, whose giggles resemble nature’s symphonies. the two shots of espresso you need at the start of the day once came in the form of his warm embrace. most of all, his smile is enough to illuminate the world even through the strongest storms and times when power went out.

for the remaining articles, not a single word leaves you. before you know it, all 12 articles were ready to go up on the web.

“that’s all of it. should i still schedule them to go up around 12 p.m.?” jihoon notes as he saves the drafts.

“yeah, 12 p.m. still sounds good. thanks a lot.” namjoon nudges his shoulder before looking over to you. “let’s talk in my office.”

you don’t question his orders. once namjoon takes off, you follow him all the way to his office. as he swings the door open, you are met with the familiar sight of his workspace. hues of green and brown mix, where nature and art meet within the space of corporate.

once namjoon takes a seat on his chair, you find your spot across from him. his eyes stare off to the window. for a moment, you’re not sure what to expect from this impromptu meeting.

seconds pass and not a single word has been said—

“this place’s always alive,” your editor breaks the silence. “don’t you think so?”

you follow his line of sight. busy seoul never changes; the skyscrapers pollute the sky and the people never sleep, off to work or off to party.

“where’d you grow up again?”

you look back at namjoon whose eyes still remain locked on the city. “cheongju.”

he hums. “i haven’t been there. nice place?”

“yeah, but i haven’t gone back in a while.”

“when was the last time?” his eyes finally meet yours.

your teeth grasp the inside of your cheek. “2014, since i first left,” you admit. 

“do you miss it?”

you’re not sure how to answer. the pavements you’ve scraped your knees against and the walls your laughs bounced off of—do you miss them all? or is the reason behind your laughter and scabs the one you long for?

“is that why you were hesitant about interviewing them?” namjoon’s thumbs fiddle with each other. “because of your history with him?”

now, you stare at your linked hands. maybe the silence from you is enough to answer his question but you know namjoon would never settle for a soundless answer.

“i—i’m not a good person. and even if i didn’t make the choice to leave, i—” you hold yourself back. your fingers start to pick on the skin around your thumbs, peeling it so blood can spill. 

“it’s okay, i understand. you don’t have to share it with me.” your eyes drift back to namjoon, spotting a small smile that rests on his face. “it must’ve been hard to relive it all.”

the bond you have with namjoon is one that you hold close to your heart. through his mentorship, you got to learn about what it means to be a writer. the fears of being a journalist would loom over you, where questions of salary and demanding work hours would occupy your mind, but namjoon became someone who would absolve them all. he became a pillar in your life, one that provides you hope and comfort within the industry.

“so, don’t feel pressured to talk about it. but if you ever want to open up about it, then i’ll be here.”

namjoon’s giving you an exit. are you willing to take it?

you cross your arms as you lean back into the chair. “you know how i was a science major then?”

“yeah, i remember looking over your resume. and then i saw that you were part of your university’s publication.”

your tongue pushes against the inside of your cheek. “i would’ve gotten some job in that field, like, i had it lined up for me.”

“really? like lab coat and all?”

as namjoon attempts to hold back his laugh over the image, you chuckle along. “yeah, lab coat and all! it’s crazy how my life was all set for that field, but i’m here now.” you look down at your arms. “i think just facing him in a completely different field that i once used to imagine with him was just strange. but i think hearing his answers really did it for me.”

namjoon nods at your words. “care to have lunch with me?” your eyes snap back to your editor. “i’m guessing you want to talk about it, after all.”

all you do is smile before getting off your seat.

spring of 2014

the season of spring has graced cheongju; the sun gleams in the expanse of blue and birds perched on tree branches sing their songs. it’s the perfect season to embrace the wonders of the town.

while it would be a delight to bask under the returning warmth, you’re stuck within the walls of the classroom, head resting on crossed arms. 

still, the lilacs have yet to bloom.

“y/n.” you quickly sit up before your eyes settle on your adviser, ms. jeon, who stands in front of the classroom. “let’s take attendance.”

with that, you’re beside her as you call out each name on the class list. it’s a quick process of saying your classmates’ names for them to respond in variations of “present,” until you reach the section of last names that start with a ‘j’.

“ji changmin.” no response.

you rip your eyes off the piece of paper, only met with your classmates who either look at each other in confusion or spaced out in their own worlds.

“ji changmin?” when you’re met with the same reaction, you’re ready to mark the student absent—

“sorry!” the doors slam open. a boy clad in a white polo and jogging pants is panting by the entrance, covered in sweat as he rests on the edge of it. “sorry, i’m late.”

“oh, it’s okay! you arrived just in time.” ms. jeon smiles at the tardy student. as you watch him take a seat, his eyes lock with yours, but your adviser nudges you before saying, “y/n, proceed.”  

ji changmin made his name a few years back at a competition. the applause and roars from the crowd marked his spot in the school. others describe his movement as of cranes, standing in the middle of a pond as they do their best to minimize forming any ripples, or of elephants, swaying their trunks with control like no other.

but he’s a versatile dancer; nothing can truly capture him.

once you’ve finished marking the attendance, you go back to your seat. you’re ready to start the day with no bother but you can’t shake the feeling of being watched.

“now, you can see in these,” your art teacher, ms. park, points to the screen showcasing works from her favorite contemporary artists like kwon yongju and félix gonzález-torres, “that there are no borders to what constitutes art. and that’s not wrong because we have to recognize that art comes in different forms as we progress, from traditional painting and sculptures to digital ones.”

this field isn't your strong suit. with a greater understanding of the sciences, you struggle to create anything that could be on par with the works of any artist. yet, you enjoyed learning about every piece that your teacher shared, like unfolding and admiring something you know you can never replicate or create. still, the universe decides that they have other plans for you.

“as i mentioned before, i’ll be giving you time to work on your final assessment, which is to create an artwork for the class exhibit. for this deliverable, i’m asking that your work will be a collaborative one, meaning you aren’t working alone.” in a sea of chatter, some groans exit your classmates. “remember, inspiration doesn’t come from your own bubble! take this as your opportunity to create something that you’ve never imagined.”

within a split second, students are off their seats as they attempt to find a partner to work with. you, however, were struggling to think of who you could team up with. admittedly, you have a very different work style compared to others—even cheng xiao, aspiring valedictorian, didn’t enjoy working with you. she turned every activity into a competition against you. (you didn’t enjoy her, either.) while you’re considering shamefully going up to your classmates like a stray dog looking for anyone willing to care for them—

“hi!” in front of you stands the tardy student of today, all smiles as his hands find comfort in the pockets of his jogging pants. “do you have a partner already?”

with furrowed eyebrows, you can’t help but look him up and down. “no, why?”

“well,” changmin looks around the classroom, “everyone seems to have paired up except for us.” as his eyes drift back to you, he flashes you a smile, one that shows the dips engraved into his cheeks. “which leaves me to ask if you would like to work with me for this.”

you don’t have a choice. ms. park would never bend the rules for you. if anything, she would find a way to pair you with another student who would dread the idea of working with you. (“i’m sure they won’t mind being partners with you, right?” is what she would ask the poor student, only to be met with their retreat.)

“unless we accept a failing mark, which i’m sure we both don’t want.” it’s not like changmin had a choice as well.

“okay.” with one word, light fills his eyes, enough to resemble the starlight that grazes your skin every night. “we can meet and discuss our schedules, especially because i’ve got ap stat, and you have, uhm,” a cough leaves you, “training, i’m assuming, or rehearsals. i don’t really know what you call them.”

his eyebrows shoot up as his mouth parts open. “o—oh, yeah. i usually have training after class until 8 p.m. on tuesdays, thursdays, and saturdays.”

“same. my classes are until 7 p.m. on tuesdays and thursdays, so maybe we can use the other days to work together?”

with one nod from him, his dimples reappear. “great! i’ll see you tomorrow.”

before you know it, everyone finds their way back to their seats for ms. park’s final reminders. you do your best to pay attention to every announcement, jotting down every word on your planner and planning out your agenda for the upcoming weeks. yet, your eyes seem to have a mind of their own as they drift back to the boy who discreetly passes notes to kim donghan, another dancer on the team, all while listening to the teacher.

you don’t notice how long you spend staring at changmin until he turns to meet your gaze. in that split second, you look at each other—then, embarrassment washes over you. you shift your attention back to ms. park. as you drum your fingers against the desk, mentally kicking yourself over the interaction, you still can’t shake the feeling of being watched.

you look back at changmin; he’s still looking at you.

his dimples make their reappearance before he looks back at ms. park. you do the same as you attempt to listen to her ramble about banksy’s works. 

(you’re still thinking about the dips in his cheeks.)

the first time you get to meet with changmin for the project happens the following week. you two had different commitments to attend to, whether it be other projects or training. and while you would usually settle to meet in the school library or a cafe nearby, you find yourself inside the empty gymnasium, sitting on bleachers while your partner stands in front of mirrors.

“don’t you think it would be nice to combine our hobbies together?”

your pencil taps against the notebook. “like, your dancing? with what?”

“whatever you like to do!” once he makes his way to you, he leans on the row in front of you with crossed arms. “i mean, do you have anything you like to do during your free time?”

a scoff leaves you. “funny of you to assume that i have free time.”

“what’s your schedule like?”

“well, i have our classes and ap ones, then kumon at night.”

changmin reels at the thought of your schedule. “that’s brutal. the last time i had kumon was back in grade 4.”

“yeah, but i’m sure yours is busy as well. the amount of time that you put into training is…” his eyes are wide, hanging on your words. it’s the hope they hold that has you say, “admirable.”

a shy smile takes over his features. “yeah, but it’s only because my family is supportive of what i do.”

then, limbs whose color resembles the void slither their way to your heart, wrapping around it while the organ struggles to beat; it’s a slow process but an unending hole that will birth from it. yet, you do your best to fight off these limbs, unraveling them one by one in hopes it will give up—until you settle for shaking them off.

you only muster out a hum.

“do you have anything you like to do during those short breaks?”

your lips trill. “i don’t know. watch something on youtube?”

his cheeks puff up, stuck in his thoughts as he tries to navigate this project—and you—until his eyes glint. “what do you do when you want to vent?”

“you sure have a lot of questions,” you comment, trying to hold back a chuckle at his curiosity. “i can just adjust to you. maybe attempt to draw, picture, or even film you.”

his eyebrows furrow. “but that wouldn’t make it collaborative. i want us to work on something that aligns with what we do.”

a beat passes.

he holds your gaze. “i want us to create something that shows us.”

inside you, a gong is struck; its sound reverberates throughout your body, from the crown of your forehead to the tips of your toes. then, silence seeps in—a moment only for you and him.

“i, uh, write,” you whisper as your eyes shift to the notebook resting on your lap.

“really? like, stories and poetry?”

you nod. “i like writing people’s stories more, but i do like making ones.” when you look back at changmin, his eyes are still filled with curiosity. “i would, like, find interviews online and try to make my own, sort of, uhm—god this is embarrassing. forget about it.”

“huh? no, it isn’t!” he attempts to reassure your shrunken figure. “i mean, you don’t have to share more if you really don’t want to, but i’d like to hear more about it.” and when his dimples appear, you almost can’t help but feel your face warm up.

“i’d make articles, i guess?” he nods along with your words. “i don’t know, it’s just interesting to hear about people’s lives and kind of create something out of it, and i like thinking about all the possibilities of who would love to hear them. like, don’t you think that some of the stories that we read hold fragments of someone?”

“that’s an interesting way to look at it.”

as you doodle on your notebook, you say, “yeah, it’s just fun to hear these stories and maybe create something out of it. or even think of stories that i could never live out, you know?” you expect yourself to be met with the bored face of changmin but his eyes remain on you.

“what if you interview me?”

your eyebrows shoot up. “you?”

“yeah,” he stands up before walking up to your row, finding a spot beside you. “think of me as your first interviewee if you want.”

the sudden suggestion has you stumbling over your words. “huh? b—but, i don’t have questions prepared. and how does this help our project?” 

when his arms brush against yours, you start to become aware of the distance between your shoulders—and his face from yours. warmth spreads throughout your body, almost like you’re about to have a fever. once his open hand rests near yours, you don’t know what he’s asking.

“let me draw it out for you.” you hand him your pencil and notebook, allowing him to see your doodles. (you don’t miss his grin.) “you know, with that article you make, we can cut it up and create something out of it.” a roughly drawn sketch of a boy posed in the middle of a dance move now rests on the page. “i don’t know if a collage would be okay.”

as you think about what can be done, you perch your chin on your palm. “we can do papercut art? basically, it’s cutting up the article in a way to form an image.”

“oh, that sounds cool!”

“yeah, but the only challenge is that we can only use one piece of paper.” a sigh leaves you. “it would be impossible for me to even do that.”

“that’s why you have me.” his small smile causes wind chimes to ring. (you’re positive you heard them, even if there were no such things in the gymnasium.)

he continues to sketch out the layout of your joint artwork. “how do we feel about this?” on the paper, there are two boxes beside the figure, where one is labeled as “photo of me” while the other is labeled “an article by y/n.” your head tilts. “it’ll be a three-set piece. so, it’ll be a photo of me and your article, and in between is the papercut art that we’ll make.”

you hum. “you know, you’re very creative.” you look at him only to see that he’s been staring at you. “like, you’re inclined to the arts. i wouldn’t have been able to think of something like this.”

“you’re just as creative,” he argues back as he writes down something.

you shake your head before retorting, “changmin, you’re very talented. i’ve seen the way you dance,” his movements halt, “and you’re like no other dancer i’ve seen. if you ever try out to be an idol, i’m sure you’d do great, maybe end up on the list of the best dancers in the industry.”

but he shakes his head, going back to writing on your notebook and shutting down your compliments. you decide to not push.

“i can get the photo sometime during my training,” he says as he hands you your notebook.

“then i can have the questions sometime this week. for the article, i can have it done maybe four days after the interview. how does wednesday, after school, sound for the interview?”

he shoots you a smile before standing up from his seat. “that’s perfect! i’m looking forward to meeting journalist y/n.” you can’t help but scoff at what he calls you. “what’s wrong?”

“nothing,” you shake your head. “it’s just a silly name.” because the reality is that you had your future planned out—and it definitely didn’t involve that field.

he shrugs. “i don’t know, i think it would fit you.”

“but you haven’t read any of my works.”

“but i want to root for you in the same way you do for me. i don’t want you to feel ashamed of your works.” a fire ignites in your heart; it’s a fireplace.

you’re baffled that changmin, out of all people, now holds your secret, but you’re even astounded over the idea of him supporting you. you almost can’t remember the last time you heard such words of support. is it genuine or nothing but a facade?

“anyway, i’ve got to go. i need to catch up on some homework.” while you shoot him a nod, his dimples make their appearance once more. “i’ll see you tomorrow!” as he takes off, you’re left in the gymnasium with your opened notebook and unlocked heart. you look back down at his sketch surrounded by your doodles, but you don’t miss his little note—cute doodles btw <3

the season of spring has unfolded in cheongju; a single lilac has bloomed.

present -> a day before the interview, 2024

it’s a late night on a tuesday, about to be a midnight wednesday, and you’re in a convenience store as you scout for your dinner. all hauled up in the newsroom, the idea of ordering food during a time where restaurants would still be open slipped your mind. now, you’re left to scan through the same options you’ve eaten for the past years since you started living in seoul.

the convenience clerks are familiar with you, both kim jongseob and kim jiwoo. with your constant late-night meals at the store, you’d talk to whichever one had a shift. jongseob is saving up to upgrade his setup at home to record more music. with all the stories he shares about his time in underground rap battles along with the short verses he’s performed for you, you’re positive that he’ll get signed to a label soon. as for jiwoo, this is one of the many jobs she has in order to save enough money for fashion school. you’ve seen her sketches and outfits she’s put together and you’re hoping that she’ll get accepted.

a sigh leaves you. you didn’t have a problem with eating the food here but you were craving for something new in your life in seoul. the perpetual cycle of eating takeout food and unconsciously skipping meals for work needed to be disrupted just for a moment. but you weren’t seeking michelin-star food—all you wanted was something home cooked. something from home.

the spice of tteokbokki, the burn of freshly fried hotteok, and the sweetness of homemade peach iced tea—mr. kim’s convenience store had it all.

your tastebuds long for cheongju.

“planning to beat your record of spending 23 minutes on deciding what to get?”

you roll your eyes before looking to your right, seeing jongseob stock up the drinks in the fridge. “i hate you.”

“what? i’m just saying, you’re taking a lot longer to decide today.” he chuckles before placing the last bottle of sweetened probiotic milk in the fridge. “none of the options look good to you?”

“sort of,” you hum before you scan through the aisle of packaged meals. “i think i’m craving for something different.”

“i get it. the food here can get boring, which is why i’m planning to order pizza if you want to split the costs.”

your eyebrows shoot up at jongseob’s suggestion. “really? you’d share pizza with me?”

“yeah, as long as you pay for your share.” he shoots you a smile before grabbing on a trolley carrying empty boxes. “unless… you want to pay for the whole thing.”

you bite back a smile as you shake your head. you should’ve known the guy would ask you to buy him food, but you knew that he needed the money and you at least had a stable income to keep you comfortable. “fine,” jongseob’s smile grows as you fish out your wallet from your pocket and pull out a couple of bills. “just order enough for us two.” 

“of course,” he says as soon as you hand him some money. “i’ll make sure to order the most expensive thing on the menu.”

you scoff at his joke. “just make sure to treat me to something.”

the bell by the door chimes. “sorry, can’t hear you over that! need to attend to a customer!” jongseob dashes away from you while dragging the trolley. that little shit just knew how to press your buttons, but you love the kid, anyway.

still, you stand in the middle of the mart and your heart longs for home.

then, you shut your eyes, and you’re transported back in front of the familiar aisle filled with bags of potato chips and sweet corn. the noisy fan along with the soft sounds of mr. kim’s korean drama fills your ears. a mix of yellow and orange hues paint every corner of the mart, including you—and you’re not alone.

your best friend stands on your right, wearing the unbuttoned school uniform polo over a tank top along with jogging pants. he’s lost in thought as he scans through the options of snacks you two can have for today’s afternoon. he starts to giggle to himself, probably from a silly thought he’ll share with you in the next second or a memory involving you, and the dips in his cheeks appear—your heart thumps in your ears.

and just like how quickly you were transported back to cheongju, your surroundings transformed into the cool-lit convenience store found in seoul. all you have left is the image of him bathed in the sunlight.

but he fades away like the ink on old receipts, never gone, because the glowing image of him warps into a different version who stands next to you in the cold mart. he’s grown a few inches taller and his hair doesn’t get in the way of his line of sight. while he wears a green sweater, you notice that he’s gained some muscles. his eyes scan through the aisle behind you filled with different brands of instant ramen.

but he bites the inside of his cheek and his dimples appear.

it’s a tornado that brews within you, enough to uproot trees and displace buildings, all because of an unexpected reunion with changmin. why did the universe decide to bring two ex-best friends on a random tuesday night? what brings him to the convenience store at the same time you’re there? and why did it have to happen a day before the interview?

you weren’t going to commit the same mistake; keep your eyes off of him and make your way out of the store. it didn’t matter if you had an empty, growling stomach, or gave free money to jongseob. you need to leave without the distant, familiar face noticing.

your feet act fast, and you're almost certain that might’ve caught his attention, but it didn’t matter as you see jongseob standing behind the cashier with his phone out. “i just ordered the pizza. it should arrive in about… 20 to 30 minutes.”

“yeah, about that…”

“don’t tell me you’re taking your money back.”

at the sight of jongseob’s pout, you roll your eyes. “no, keep it. i just—i need to go.”

“what? why?”

you peek behind you. it seems like he didn’t recognize you, after all. “i’ve got… work!”

“but don’t you only have your interview with the bo—”

“hey!” your fingers snap at him. “you cannot—i mean, you just… just take the goddamn money.”

“but we’re supposed to share the pizza. you haven’t eaten.”

an exasperated sigh leaves you. “jongseob, just treat me next time. i can eat at home.”

and you’re ready to leave the convenience store, bid farewell to jongseob and a delicious pizza made for two, and never greet or say goodbye to the living fragment of what you last know of cheongju—

“y/n?”

and the plan failed.

when you meet his gaze, you’re able to take in the different version of him. he’s grown so much—it’s such a pain that you weren’t there to witness it. his eyes are a pool of emotions; you can’t identify them.

all it takes is one breath from you. “changmin.”

a beat passes.

“i’m just gonna… go through the storage,” jongseob points his thumb at the back of the mart, “and maybe kill myself afterwards. i don’t know.” before you can protest, he’s already gone. (and he still has your money. that fucker.)

you and changmin were once painted with the hues of the sun. this reunion is tainted with blue.

changmin’s fingers tense up, almost as if he was hesitating—debating—on how to approach you. his body would waver, but he never took a step towards you. “i… i wasn’t expecting to meet you here.” 

“same here.” you lean your back against the checkout counter. “d—do you stay around this part of the city?”

he shakes his head. “i live around 15, maybe 20, minutes away from here. i’m only here because…” your breath gets caught in your throat. “i don’t know.”

fate. that’s what brought us here.

“do you live here?”

you nod. “yeah, ever since—” the sentence never gets completed; you and him already know.

for a moment, sorrow flashes in his eyes, but a smile shows up. the dimples don’t appear. “i, uh, i was going to get something from here but it seems like your friend is busy.”

“sorry about jongseob.” you whip out your phone and scold him through text. “he should be with us in a bit.”

changmin hums before walking to the freezer filled with different ice cream. as he looks through the selection, he asks, “do you still like twin bar?”

“y—yeah.”

“still the grape flavor?” you don’t know what to say, but when his gaze meets yours, you settle for a nod. with your favorite ice cream in one hand and a sandwich in the other, he finally walks towards you. you don’t miss the slight stagger in his steps.

changmin finds his spot beside you. there’s still distance between you two—two tiles worth, enough space for one person—but it’s enough for your muscles to freeze. thankfully, jongseob comes just in time to manage the cashier (with an awkward smile plastered on).

he scans changmin’s item first before grabbing onto your ice cream.

“oh, i’m paying—”

“no, let me,” changmin insists. “you can always treat me another time.”

you bite the inside of your cheek, thinking over the second half of his sentence. jongseob holds back from scanning the item, until you shoot him a nod. changmin pays for the food before jongseob hands them to you.

“i’ll just let you know when the pizza gets here.” his small smile is enough for your shoulders to ease and a quiet exhale to leave. a small nod is all you give him.

you follow changmin outside to the tables in front of the mart. once he’s settled on a spot, you sit across from him. he tears away the plastic wrapping of his food while you play with the ends of yours. 

while he swallows what you assume to be his dinner of the day, you’re left to swallow your own pride.

“i’ve seen your performances.” his chews halt. “you’re—” captivating. “you’ve improved a lot.”  

with one gulp, a shy smile takes over his face. “i still have a long way to go.”

“you always say that, even back then.” a half bitten sandwich now rests on the wrapper. “but i admire your drive.” always have.

while a different version of changmin sits across you, the one you knew back in cheongju still lives. in the busy, unfamiliar expanse of seoul, meeting 10 years later, he’ll never be stranger. you could never treat him as such, even if you wanted to.

“there’s always room for improvement,” he says.

you hum along with his sentiment. “did you stick with early childhood education?” you’re met with his orbs that hold a thousand of emotions, some you can name as shock, confusion. a question hangs in the air—what did you deserve to know?

“sorry, i’m assuming you still went to college, which is totally fine if you did or didn’t, by the way. and it’s also okay if you didn’t stick to your major. i mean, you always talked about pursuing a performing arts degree before—”

“y/n,” he giggles, “you’re okay. i still went to college but i took media & communication.” your eyebrows shoot up at the revelation. “i thought it made sense to study something related to what i do, just the more technical and theoretical side of it, i guess. and the online classes were easy to squeeze into my schedule.” he lifts up the sandwich. “what about you?”

“uh, i ended up in the same course as well.” a hum of shock leaves changmin. “yeah,” you chuckle, “i managed to shift courses.”

“that’s amazing! i’m happy for you.”

you smile at him. “thanks. now, i’m just—” you should tell him what you do. what would be a better time to reveal that you ended up in the path he dreamed for you to be than now? “—figuring things out.”

with your vagueness, changmin only nods before munching away. if there’s anything about you that still remains, it’s that you shouldn’t be pushed to share something you didn’t want to talk about. he still knew that.

as he finishes his sandwich, you tear off the plastic wrapping of your ice cream. with the twin bar in your hands, you snap it into two before you hand him a piece. confusion paints his features, wide eyes glossing over the popsicle in your hand, but he takes it before you can say anything.

“thanks.”

you shake your head. “don’t even worry about it. it’s only tradition.”

silence settles between you two. as you eat away on your share of the twin bar, you look up to the sky. from where you sit, you can’t see a single star; the lights of seoul seemed to outshine them. and during those moments, you almost can’t help but miss the view of the starry night from your childhood room.

you glance at changmin who looks up to the sky as well. yet, one hand remains in his pocket, almost as if he’s fiddling with something. 

as if he feels your eyes on him, he asks, “did you ever think about coming back?”

you halt your movements. if there’s one thing you were expecting your old friend to ask, it would be related to your sudden departure. but you’re hit with an entirely different question, one you didn’t get to rehearse the answer to in case you ever cross paths with him. 

because after all this talk about your yearning for cheongju, why didn’t you choose to visit? despite how much you long mr. kim’s home cooked meals, skies filled with stars, or the presence of your best friend, why didn’t you ever come back?

if you miss home, why is your first instinct to run away from it?

and the reality is that you do think about it all the time. since you left cheongju, you drafted out how many plans to go back. you were homesick, missing the familiar landscape you spent your entire childhood growing up in. but most of all, you missed changmin. as long as you had him, you would survive anywhere, whether in seoul or cheongju.

despite how much you yearned for him during your years away, you learned that your relationship wasn’t always filled with the warmth that would grace you two every afternoon. for so long, you’ve sat with jealousy. while his family was his pillar of strength, you were met with a home that offered nothing but criticism.

the black limbs slowly ate away at your heart; the void was born.

it became easier to remain resentful. with the distance, you weren’t faced with changmin’s genuineness. yet, with time, you discovered that you still cared for him—regardless of your jealousy—because you still wanted more for him than you did for yourself.

for a long time, you resented. now, it’s only guilt that held you back from going back to him.

so when you remain silent, changmin takes it as your answer.

and for the first time, the distance feels greater since you first left cheongju.

summer of 2014

it’s the peak of summer. amidst the expanse of verdant fields, bees seek solace in the fully-bloomed sunflowers and kaleidoscope wings illuminate as they soar.

but summer is where mouths go dry and clothes cling to skin. as days blend with each other, the comfort of your bed is all you have until the season passes.

the fan rumbles against the wooden floor, doing its best to cool you, but the heat prickles against the back of your neck. the wind has turned into nothing but hot waves. with your elbows perched on the desk, a sigh leaves you as you attempt to make sense of the worksheet filled with math equations.

your room is your favorite place in cheongju. within these four walls are scattered fragments of you, from your favorite books and mangas that rest on the bookshelf to the stuffed toys that rest on your bed. book tabs stick out of your workbooks lined up on your desk and your cork board is filled with crossed out to-do lists.

and every once in a while, you would look out through your window, admiring the neighboring houses and all their greenery. as people walk on pavements, you cannot help but think about where they’re off to—are they on their way to work? did they leave an important document back home? or are they coming back to a meal and home filled with warmth?

despite the halo soundtrack filling your ears, the cogs in your brain seem to drown them out. the numbers on your paper have jumbled up. it should’ve been easy. after all, you’ve become friends with the letters who’ve squeezed their way into math. once you’ve wrapped up on this assignment, you know you’ll wake up to another set of work to do. it didn’t help that you’re stuck watching kids your age enjoy their break.

with a tired mind, you consider making yourself another cup of iced coffee. maybe another dose of caffeine will make sense of the numbers—

your phone buzzes against your table. as your eyes rip from the unfinished worksheet, you spot the familiar name flashing on the screen. with one glance at your door, you bring your headphones to rest around your neck. it takes three rings for you to answer.

“what do you want?”

“the fuck? what���s wrong with you?”

you roll your eyes as you fiddle with your pen. “i’m studying, you fucker.”

“on a sunday?” changmin’s question has you only groan. “what happened to resting?”

“i wish,” you murmur as you scratch the back of your head. “i’ve been stuck on this stupid worksheet for the past hours. it’s annoying too. i mean, i already know this topic, so i don’t know why it’s so hard.”

“awe, is my best friend suffering over kumon?”

your forehead rests on crossed arms. “yes. i think i’m going to die.”

“okay, then. i’ll take that as my sign.”

“sign to what?”

he chuckles as if it were obvious. “to save you! let’s go to mr. kim’s.”

a groan leaves you as your back meets the chair. “no, i can’t. do you know what would happen if i don’t finish my kumon?”

“uh… no?”

“me, neither. i’m not taking my chances.”

“but, you’re not even doing anything!” changmin pointing out the obvious has you rolling your eyes. “wouldn’t it be better to take a break with your best friend? i can even help out.”

as you bite the inside of your cheek, you glance once more at your closed door. you weigh it out; would you rather take a break with your best friend or would you save yourself from the consequences brought by home?

but the answer was already clear. “give me 10 minutes.”

changmin laughs before you drop the call.

it’s the smell of fresh hotteok that greets you. the quiet buzzing of the fan accompanied by mr. kim’s favorite trot music fills your ears. while the owner seems to be away from the cashier, a white, stray cat takes over, body flopped on the counter as it snores away the heat. as the sun pours through windows, coating every corner of the mart with a glow of fireflies, you know this will be a place of its own.

“y/n, over here!” a familiar voice calls out. as you whip your head to the source, you see your best friend by the chest freezer, eyes crinkled and all dimples.

now, you’re certain that nothing could ever replicate this.

you walk towards changmin, finding your spot beside him as you two look through the collection of frozen treats. “so, what do you want from here?” you ask.

“uh… i’ll be honest, i just realized i’m short on money.”

you glance through the price tags, only for a groan to leave you. “i’m short too. when did mr. kim raise the prices?”

“no clue. i thought i’d have enough to get a summer crush,” changmin complains as his eyes are glued to the coffee sorbet. “i hate inflation.”

“come on.” you fish out for the coins in your pocket. “let’s see how much we have together.” changmin does the same. with palms out, you two count through your shared funds.

“we can get a summer crush!”

“you can get one. i’ll be left with barely anything.” you look through the selection once more. “man, i really want samanco. the red bean sounds so good right now.”

defeat casts over changmin’s features. for a moment, you almost consider giving up on having a frozen treat and settling for a glass bottle of orange soda, until you spot a familiar popsicle brand.

“holy shit, it’s right there.”

“what?”

“there!” your finger points at the stack of twin bars. “we can probably get that and split it.”

changmin’s expression morphs into realization. “okay, let’s get—”

“dibs on grape.”

“dibs?” he furrows his eyebrows at you. “you can’t just call dibs. you’re doing it wrong. clearly, we should discuss—”

“nope,” you retort. a chuckle laced with disbelief leaves your best friend. to him, it seemed like you were joking around. “i made the suggestion and contributed a lot more to our shared funds.”

“okay, but—”

“don’t tell me you want the peach flavor more than the grape.” as you continue to shut him down, he knows there’s no way around you.

(plus, he wasn’t a fan of peach-flavored things, anyway. how unfortunate that mr. kim only has those two flavors right now.)

“next time, we’re choosing a flavor that i want,” he gives in. you let out a cheer before grabbing the frozen treat.

you two make your way back to the cashier and spot mr. kim slouched in front of the television, hand stroking the sleepy feline. he’s still wearing an old, red plaid apron on top of a pair of basketball shorts and a loose graphic tee which had the name of a band you’re unfamiliar with. with how he sits, you’re afraid that his back problems will get even worse. (still, you don’t say anything. he’ll only play it off and say he’s still one of the “youngins”... whatever that means.)

once his eyes land on you two, a grin takes over. “ah, my favorite kids! it’s nice to see you both.”

“yeah, it’s been a while,” changmin starts off. “y/n’s always busy with kumon.”

you narrow your eyes at the boy. “hey! you’re busy, too! you’ve been practicing at the studio almost every day!” the wrapped popsicle now rests on the counter. “every time i’m free, you’re not.”

“hey! whenever you’re free, i’m tired from training!”

“okay, let’s settle down,” mr. kim breaks up the banter. he then takes note of the ice cream on the cashier, the price showing up on the cashier. “isn’t the heat hard enough for you two to be studying or practicing?”

“yes, very much.” you count the coins once more before dropping the exact amount on the counter. “but,” you glance at changmin and his disheartened expression is enough for mountains to move, “i don’t think we have a choice.”

in reality, these were the circumstances you two had to work and live with. during the days changmin ended practice early, you were drowning in summer school assessments. whenever you managed to finish your homework, it would be during the hours your best friend was off at the studio or passed out at home from exhaustion.

“choice, no choice, people always say that.” mr. kim counts your payment before putting it into the cashier. as he takes note of what you’ve bought, he says, “everyone has a choice. i’m sure you two can figure it out.”

the only difference is that one chose this path; the other had to suffer from the decision forced onto them.

“don’t worry, mr. kim,” changmin nudges your shoulder. “i’m sure we’ll figure it out.” and when the dips in his cheeks appear, you find yourself smiling back.

maybe you were okay with the life you had to live, just maybe.

“anyway, we’ll go ahead,” changmin bids farewell to mr. kim.

you giggle. “he means we’re just going to eat our ice cream at the front.”

as you two slowly make your way out of the mart, mr. kim shakes his head. “you lovebirds go ahead. i’ll see you next time!”

“mr. kim!” you and changmin shout in unison before glancing at each other.

“what?!”

your best friend groans. “you know we aren’t together.”

“yeah! like, i can’t imagine it,” you join in.

still, the owner laughs at your reactions. “you two are so funny. just go and enjoy your ice cream.”

you roll your eyes at his words. “bye, mr. kim!”

with that, you and changmin were out of the mart and took a seat on the benches. you hand your best friend the wrapped frozen treat before letting out a sigh. “i still can’t believe this is one of the few times we got to meet up during the break.”

“i know.” he tears the plastic wrapping off. “you would think that summer break would mean we get to hang out nonstop, but i’m starting to think we saw each other more whenever we had school.”

you hum. “i know. and i had ap stat while you had training.” your eyes dart at changmin who grips onto the popsicle sticks, struggling to split it into two. “oh my god, don’t tell me you can’t split it.”

“hey! it’s hard.”

as you giggle, you reach your hand out. “let me do it.” once changmin hands you the twin bar, you attempt to split the two. for a moment, you almost think about agreeing with him. yet, the frozen treat splits into two perfectly, and a satisfied smile rests on your lips.

you hand him one popsicle, only to be met with his glare. “i know, i’m just better.”

“just shut up.” to that, another laugh leaves you.

under the sun, you enjoy the coolness of the twin bar. while you would’ve stared off to nowhere, you and changmin were here at the right time to catch civilians bustling away. some were on dates, where one would go on about their interest while the other would smile at their rambling. there were kids whose chatter could be heard all the way from the end of the block, and blue-collar men who were off to enjoy their break.

you can’t help but imagine what people saw—thought—of you and changmin. did they think of you as unexpected friends? has it ever crossed their minds that you two were only classmates who seemed to always be paired together? or did they ever think the same as mr. kim?

“you know,” changmin starts off, causing you to look at him, “i was going through college courses the other day.”

your eyebrows shoot up. “oh?”

with your reaction, changmin giggles. “i was just curious, you know? not that i’m giving up on dance or anything, but,” he licks the popsicle, “early childhood education sounds cool.”

you hum. “i wasn’t expecting that.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

“no, it’s not a bad thing!” you reassure the boy. “it’s just,” you rip your gaze off of changmin and look at the playground, “i always thought of you as a dancer, you know? kind of like you were meant for the stage.” the laughter of the kids who passed by you two bounces all over the block and you can’t help but smile. “but i don’t doubt it.”

the breeze graces your sweat-covered skin. “what about you?” you look back at him. “would you ever consider journalism? maybe communication as your major?”

you’re quick to laugh at his suggestion, but when confusion paints his features, you realize it’s a serious question from him.

“no.” it’s a straightforward answer from you, but changmin could never settle with that

“why not?”

a sigh leaves you. “i just don’t consider it. i mean, i think about it,” all the time, “but not enough to consider it. plus, astrophysics is cool.”

“but is it your dream?”

changmin’s question is an easy one to answer—not at all. you’ve had enough learning about theories and making sense of the numbers. if your future is going to only complicate that further, then maybe astrophysics isn’t made for you. 

but who’s to say that you’ll even enjoy journalism?

“we’ll see.” you leave it at that and changmin didn’t push for more.

because the reality is that if you ever did consider it, transform those dreams into action plans, you were terrified to be met with your parents’ disappointment—it wouldn’t only be from your lousy desires but from changmin’s role in your life.

the first time you mentioned changmin to your parents happened over dinner, letting them know you would be staying later at school to work on the final project for art class with him. they didn’t bat an eye at his name as they continued to talk about what happened during work and pester you about your progress in other classes. (art class didn’t matter to them, only the sciences and math were ones they seemed to track. still, they would criticize you if you didn’t place first honors.)

with your parents’ oversight, something blossomed between you and changmin. from there, there were more days you would get home later than usual. while you were still on top of your work, they took your late arrivals as a form of negligence.

all it took was one night for them to demand an explanation. the reappearance of him in the conversation had only caused them to reprimand you—changmin’s not like you. he’ll only hold you back. 

from that day on, you’ve learned to keep his name out of conversations. you’ll enjoy what you have with changmin, even if it has to be kept under the wraps.

“how’s training?” you change the subject, trying to keep the attention off of your failed dreams to changmin’s flourishing ones.

“well, it’s a lot,” he chuckles as he munches a piece. “you already know that it takes how many hours to get to the company, and the hours i spend in the practice room are unlike the trainings i have at school.”

as his eyes meet yours, you only shoot him an apologetic smile. it was never going to be easy; you two knew that before changmin entered the doors of the company. yet, he still held on.

“you know, i never considered it before, but i like where i’m going,” he admits. “even if i’ve always had dreams to pursue dance, i want to make my family proud if i ever get to debut.” 

changmin knows how to persevere. regardless of all the bruises he gets from performing complex dance routines or the hours of sleep he longs for, he knows how to hold on. you wish you could say the same for yourself.

“and you will,” you reassure the boy, wrapping your arm around his shoulders. “who wouldn’t be proud of you?”

he holds your stare and your smile falters. for a moment, you don’t know if you touched on a sensitive topic. would he shrug your arm off? do you think he’ll shut you off, maybe cut your time together short? will changmin get mad at you for something you didn’t know was wrong? would he be just like them?

“i want to make you proud.”

that’s enough to answer it all.

you shake your head. “don’t even doubt that for a second.” your arm finds it spot back to your side, and changmin’s loops his with yours.

although he knows how to persevere, he never knows when to shut his ears from the shadows. 

“i am proud of you,” you tell him. “always have, always will.” he can’t help but smile. all you can hope is that he’ll listen closely to your voice.

“i almost forgot,” he says out of nowhere.

“forgot what?”

as he tugs his arm away, his hand fishes for something in his pocket. “close your eyes.” you furrow your eyebrows. “just do it!” you follow his orders. “and keep them closed, okay?” you let out a hum.

before you know it, something wraps around your index finger. you would’ve opened your eyes, confused over the foreign yet familiar material, but they remain shut. 

“okay, open.”

your gaze rests on your finger wrapped in yellow and blue. it’s a finger trap—and the other end is connected to changmin. despite your tug, it still holds you two together.

it’s the warmth that fills your cheeks, the heartbeat in your ears, and your starstruck eyes that has him smile. “no matter what happens, we’ll stick together, okay? regardless of what paths we end up pursuing. all that matters is that we have each other.”

he’s filled with hope. hope for his dreams. hope for your relationship. hope for what the future holds for you two. you can’t help but hope as well.

all it takes is a nod from you to solidify the promise to the universe.

you two sit in silence, finishing up the popsicles as people continue to pass by. at one point, you heard mr. kim let out a curse over the drama he’s watching. the sun is about to set, wrapping you two in a golden blanket, and all that matters is the finger trap.

present  -> two weeks before the interview, 2024

it’s no surprise to you that the newsroom is quiet. while your peers are off to gather more information, you’re with lee chaeyeon of news as she tries to meet the deadline for her article’s first close.

“do you think dokyeom will be late?” you ask as you watch her rephrase sentences.

she laughs. “when is he never? minho’s always assigning him coverages.”

“that’s true.” your eyes drift to the hallway. “i’m just hungry. he still owes me food, you know?”

“over another bet? or you saving his ass?”

“over helping him with an article,” you reveal, earning a shocked look from her. “for some odd reason, he needed another writer to help out with a live coverage, and all the sports writers and sports editor were busy handling the other events.”

“holy shit.” chaeyeon continues with her work. “i didn’t expect you to work on anything sports-related.”

“yeah, but it helped that it was a dance competition. at least i know something about dance.” you only know who to thank. “i’m going to make sure i get compensated for that. i’m planning to raise it to minho and namjoon, anyway. that’s if dokyeom would fucking come and help in explaining the situation.”

with the mention of the tardy writer’s name, he’s scrambling through the halls with his backpack in one hand and a paper bag in the other. the moment he sees you, he shoots you an apologetic smile.

“speak of the devil,” you say as you stand up straight. “why do you always show up late? i helped you with the article.”

dokyeom finds his spot beside you as he sets down the bag on your desk. “i’ll have you know that wasn’t the only article i had yesterday. i was catching up on other ones that minho assigned me.” before he can plop down on his seat, he spots chaeyeon working. “damn, tough life at news.”

“no need to point out the obvious, doofus.”

“wow, harsh,” he replies to her insult. “just so you know, i bought food for us.”

“thank god,” you exclaim as you open the paper bag filled with takeout containers and sealed cups. as you pull them out one by one, you spot your usual order from the vietnamese restaurant around the corner. “oh my god, thank you for getting me this.” you take a seat before you pass dokyeom his food and utensils.

“yeah, i know. i’m just the best.” his shower of compliments for himself only has you rolling your eyes. “but thank you, by the way, for helping me out with the article. i needed an extra pair of hands and my own editor couldn’t stand in to help out.”

“it’s fine. just make sure you help me get compensated for that article,” you say before you open the container. as the smell of bun bo nam bo fills your nose, you can’t help but let out a quiet moan. “holy fuck, i’ve been craving this.”

“i made sure to get you some vietnamese coffee also.”

“yeah, i saw. thank you.” you split the chopsticks with one hand. you’re about to mix the bowl of your favorite food—

“is y/n here?” your editor calls out, causing you to let out a sigh before you stand up from your seat.

“yes?”

namjoon’s gaze lands on you. “can i talk to you for a bit?”

despite your grumbling stomach, you give him a nod and set your food down. as he retreats to his office, you glare at dokyeom who munches away on goi cuon. “i hate you.”

“hey, what did i do?!” you ignore his attempts to defend himself as you make your way to your editor’s office.

once you swing the door open, you spot namjoon whose eyes are stuck to the screen. “you can take a seat,” he says with no attempt to look at you. you sit across from him, hands folded on your lap, while he types away on his keyboard.

the moment he hits the ‘enter’ key is when he finally looks at you. “sorry about that. i was just replying to minho regarding your compensation for the article you worked with dokyeom. we both appreciate what you did. next time though, make sure to loop in minho or me before you two start working on beats not within your staffs.”

“sorry about that,” you start off. “dokyeom only asked for my help and i thought it would be fine since i’m familiar with dance, anyway.”

namjoon shakes his head with a small smile plastered on his face. “it is fine, just make sure to inform us.” you only nod.

“anyway, i’m sorry to have this meeting with you right now but i have to leave work early today, and i thought that you’d appreciate that i tell this to you now instead of tomorrow,” he says. you hum, curious about what he has to say. “i have a coverage for you, a very, very, long one.”

over the sight of your wide eyes, he can’t help but chuckle. “it’s 12 articles,” he says and your mouth gapes over the number. “well, one main article and 11 profiles with very brief introductory paragraphs.” his attempt to ease your shocked state does nothing.

“namjoon, that’s… a lot.”

“yes, i know. i would love to split the workload but everyone else is handling other articles, and i trust you. i know i’m asking for a lot but i’ll make sure to help you out with them. it’s just that we’re working on a time crunch and i don’t know anyone else i can ask but you.”

the faith that your editor seems to have in you is like no other.

“profiles, like, those q&a transcripts?” you ask.

he nods before saying, “yes, and just a brief introductory paragraph for each profile. i’m just expecting you to put more work into the article about the group. i’ll make sure to help out with the profiles.”

namjoon’s trust should be anxiety inducing, enough to send you complaining, but you find yourself relieved. your mentor became your second-in-command; the mountain of workload transformed into a hill.

“okay.”

a relaxed smile appears on his face at your acceptance. “thank god! i was going to stress about this the whole day if you refused. i’ll make sure to send you the details about this once i’m done with my appointments, and then we can see how we’ll divide the work later on.” he types something. “we’re covering a k-pop group which is why there’s one main article about the whole group and then 11 profiles.”

“yeah, i figured that out.” this isn’t anything out of your usual articles. “can i ask who we’re interviewing? maybe i can do some research on them while you attend your meetings.” you pull out your phone, ready to search up whoever your editor says.

“don’t know if you’re familiar with them but they’re called the boyz?” you still in your seat. “wait, let me check. yes, that’s their name.”

“the boyz?”

namjoon looks at you, now met with your features that have transformed from wide eyes to scrunched eyebrows.  “yeah. do you know them?” 

you shake your head without a second thought. “no, i don’t think i do,” you whisper the last sentence to yourself. his narrow eyes look over you, almost dissecting you.

the walls surrounding you are painted in solid colors of pearl, almost untouched. yet, under the paint are cracks that spread like cobwebs. every burst is a testament to the earthquakes they’ve faced; no one should be able to see a single line of black amid the white sea. now, they’re filled with paste, and it should be enough to cover them all.

but for the first time, the paint has chipped and the paste has deteriorated; the different colors of cheongju seep through the cracks.

you clear your throat as you straighten your back. “i’ll be sure to research them.” you wave your phone at him, hoping to divert his attention, but his gaze remains on you.

a sigh leaves him. “okay. expect to receive the documents later in the afternoon.”

he doesn’t push any further. for now, the walls remain intact. (or appear as so.)

it was never going to be easy.

“honestly, i gave up expecting to win as we practiced,” the youngest says through tears. as they huddle, they let out silent wishes for the upcoming years. before they blow the candle, they don’t forget to express their gratitude to the fandom who stuck with them through thick and thin.

a time of celebration turned into a moment to remember their struggles. these were pockets of their time that marked their spot in history.

“oh, everyone behind us is crying!” another member points out as the camera captures the team’s bittersweet cries.

and when you catch sight of the orange-haired boy who hides his tears behind his friend, the ache in your chest starts to spread through your veins. the video cuts to his low-hanging head as his members comfort him. they knew all of his hardships—you only know a fraction.

such a tender moment happened five years ago; it’s the same amount of time between this achievement and your departure. within those years, what did changmin undergo? did his trainings waver his passion or did the fire burn just as bright as it did since he first auditioned? was he confident in his skills or was he still critical about every performance he had?

but most of all, what did he face? what did he learn? to hate? to love?

what did he go through without you?

you don’t forget to take note of their first win on your document filled with bullet points of information. while you were going to continue watching, a recommended video caught your attention. it’s a changmin focus. you don’t hesitate to click it.

the video starts off with him checking up on the fans before the performance starts. as he mimes out eating, they answer his question with reassurance.

and there they come—his dimples appear.

it transitions to their group in their opening formation. as they await for the song to play out, changmin’s familiar smile shifts into a dominant gaze.

in the same way the first notes draw people to listen, your eyes never leave the boy. his movements are fluid, like water droplets sliding off leaves. he commands the stage regardless of where he’s positioned.

changmin is meant to be on the stage—no, every stage is made for him. every crowd is meant to cheer his name and remain captive to his talents, and every spotlight is meant to shine on him.

you rest your chin on crossed arms. long gone was the bowl cut and loose school uniform. he’s grown. matured, even. yet, the moments where his smile appears makes you realize one thing: the 16-year-old boy you knew still lives within him.

as their performance comes to an end, you don’t bother to move your cursor, letting the next recommended video play. and when his vlog plays out, you realize that a fragment of his identity is a whole of what you know.

what an honor it is to have known him for even a fraction of your lifetime.

his voice is a lullaby, the same one you used to fall asleep to, so you allow yourself to close your eyes. you let go of the responsibilities for just this moment, and allow yourself to be transported back into the warmth of his arms.

fall of 2014

out of all the seasons, autumn took its spot in being your favorite. clusters of green slowly morph  into shades of oranges and browns. it’s a symphony of chirps that fills the silence. while the breeze brings you comfort after the heat of summer, it also reminds you of the looming winter.

it’s a shame that autumn does live up to its other name: a season of fall.

“you’re always like this,” your mother comments. you stand in front of your parents, slumped shoulders and downcast eyes, as they hold a sheet of paper they believe dictates your future. “always so sensitive. we’re just asking you what went different. why did your grades drop?” to them, a shift from a to b+ is a threat to your future. 

while your feet stand on wooden floors, a flood starts to form. murky waves crash against your legs, but you do your best to keep your balance.

“answer us when you’re being talked to.” your father snaps you out of your thoughts. “what have you been doing for your grades to drop?” you want to answer but a single sound that leaves you may only lead to blubbers that your parents will scold you for. 

with your silence, your mother sneers. “i knew we shouldn’t have let you do your own things. i told you so.” she shifts her gaze to him. “what did i tell you about y/n? you know they’ll only slack off!”

“i thought we could trust them. clearly, i was wrong.” your father’s glare raises the water levels, reaching your chest. you don’t know how to swim in the foggy ocean.

“i know why.” she crosses her arms. “it’s because of that changmin boy, isn’t it?” she says his name laced with disgust.

you don’t think twice to defend him. “no, it isn’t!”

“don’t you dare talk back at me!”

“but i’m not! he’s done nothing.”

your father begins to raise his voice. “and that’s what’s wrong! that lazy boy does nothing for his studies. he clearly doesn’t care about his future.”

you always knew it would be a losing battle, but you’ll put up the fight to protect your best friend’s name. “that’s not true! he does care. he’s planning to do early childhood education for college, maybe become a teacher.”

“that job has no money. see, i can already see that you’re being influenced by him,” he argues back.

and as the murky waters rise, filling your lungs, your first instinct is to close your eyes and scream. “stop saying that about him!”

a beat passes.

“i don’t want you hanging out with him.”

“but—”

“shut up.” your mother’s words cause you to look up, meeting your parents’ faces filled with anger.  “go to your room. now.” you’re nothing but a puppet for them.

was it even a battle if you always knew you were going to lose?

despite the safety of your room, you don’t let the tears flow down. you do anything to distract yourself; maybe a book will convince you that your life is only a figment of your imagination.

waves continue to crash against your body. if you let them take your body, would they send you far away from cheongju? from your parents? from the weight you were entrusted to carry since birth?

but would you allow the waves to send you away from changmin?

your phone buzzes against the mattress. with tear-filled eyes, you see your best friend trying to reach you. you don’t think twice about declining his call and shutting off your phone.

as you curl in your bed, you hope the sea will swallow you whole—the slow, burning pain that comes with drowning won’t compare to the burns that haven’t healed. but you know that the blame rests on your shoulders. if only you had studied harder, cut off hours of rest for your work, then maybe you would be the perfect child your parents wanted.

were you wrong for allowing yourself to enjoy the small breaks between classes? was the time spent in the mart supposed to be for schoolwork? should you have found yourself a tutor? were you in the wrong for not working yourself to the bone? did you not work enough?

are you not enough?

then, a knock. your eyes snap open. like a stroke of light in the middle of the dark, changmin is by your window.

you get off your bed to open the window. as the glass barrier disappears, he enters your room. “are you okay?” he spots your glassy eyes and his hands find their spot on your shoulders. “what happened?”

you break eye contact. “what do you want, changmin?”

“you didn’t pick up your phone. and when i tried calling again, i couldn’t reach you,” he starts to explain.

you shrug off his grip on you before you take a seat on your bed. “i’m fine. my phone died.” as you feel the spot beside you dip, you look at your best friend. at the sight of his furrowed eyebrows, you know he doesn’t believe you. “i said i’m fine.”

“i didn’t say anything.” for you are an open book to him.

he opens his arms towards you—it’s your move to make. then, a tight-lipped smile shows on his face, his dimples appear, and you allow yourself to fall. with his arms wrapped around you, you shut your eyes as you nestle your face into his neck.

breathe in. breathe out.

his hand finds its spot on your back, rubbing it in circles.

breathe in. breathe out.

“it’s okay, i’m here,” he says, and you allow yourself to crumble in front of him for the first time.

the tears hit changmin’s neck like a light drizzle. your wails bring earthquakes into his world.

yet, his warmth is enough to dry up droplets, and his embrace protects you as you fall into the cracks of the earth and into the depths of the world. the flood starts to subside.

in your time knowing changmin, how much did he know about you after all? had he always known of your strained relationship with your parents? did he hear about it from others or was he able to connect the dots?

because you didn’t know yourself outside of your parents anymore. did you like science because of your kumon classes? was your interest in writing birthed from a desire for validation from your parents?

are you nothing but an array of achievements and failures?

but your parents will never be satisfied; a standard too high is practically nonexistent.

changmin moves so that you two can lie down. his arms remain wrapped around you as you hide in his neck. “i’m sorry if i wasn’t there for you when you needed it then.” his whispered apology causes you to shake your head.

“you didn’t do anything wrong,” you blubber out to his neck.

“and you didn’t, as well.” his hand finds its spot behind your head. with every stroke, a tear streams down. “and i want you to know that i’ll be here for you.”

in your house, your room was the only space you called home. solace built by you. 

now, your home is changmin.

present -> two weeks before the interview, 2024

something about the newsroom feels odd to you. there’s nothing out of the ordinary aside from it bustling with journalists. the familiar sounds of printers and chatter from your workmates fill your ears. it’s a typical occurrence for your peers to meet their deadlines on the day itself. the tug in your gut doesn’t resemble ones formed out of your anxiety. why does it feel like one of destiny?

“where is dokyeom? i swear, this guy never shows up to the office.”

you snap out of your thoughts, looking over at chaeyeon who browses through her phone. as you shove a bill into the vending machine, a chuckle leaves you. “when is he never?”

“maybe if he finishes his coverages on time then he’d be getting enough sleep. then, he won’t be late.”

you side-eye your friend before you click on a button. “you know that’s not true.”

she sighs at the same time your bottle of iced tea drops. “yeah. apparently, if you have free time, you’re not a good journalist or some shit which i find stupid.” you grab your drink before facing her. “am i not allowed to do something else that’s not related to my job? i swear, this is why i’m single.”

“then date another journalist.” your joke earns a scowl from her.

“i’m never dating anyone in my field. a journalist dating another journalist is like,” she looks up to the ceiling as she thinks, “a long distance relationship with how much they’ll never see or have time for each other.”

a laugh erupts from you, one that may be too loud for your liking. “true.”

as you walk out of the breakroom with chaeyeon, you notice something in the corner of your eye: a brunette by the restroom. while you can’t see his face, you spot what’s in his hand and you halt in your tracks—a finger trap.

“hey, is there someone there?” your eyes snap back to your friend who looks at you in confusion. when your eyes drift back to where the brunette once was, he’s already gone. you shake your head before walking back to your desk.

the same gut feeling lingers. with a frown, you open up your article only to be met with a few comments that namjoon left last night. maybe your gut knew that you weren’t done with your work. thankfully, it’s nothing too major, and you can have them done within the next few minutes.

“there you are!” chaeyeon exclaims, causing you to look up from your screen to a panting dokyeom. “were you working on your articles again?”

“actually, i went out last night.” while you shake your head at dokyeom’s reveal, chaeyeon gasps. “yeah, i did! i actually had fun for once!”

as he nods proudly at last night’s events, she complains, “are you serious?! how come you have time to go out? i was just talking to y/n that we never have time to ourselves.”

“i’m in sports,” he points out as he shrugs his shoulders. “you’re in news.” at this point, you’re expecting the two to spiral into an argument, so you redirect your focus back to your article.

“hey, did you hear though? there’s a k-pop group in the building.” you glance at chaeyeon.

your other friend leans on the cubicle. “really? who?”

“no clue.”

dokyeom lets out a groan. “what type of journalist are you if you can’t find out?”

“yah!” chaeyeon smacks his arm, causing him to wince in pain. “says you who can never submit on time.”

“hey, i’ll have you know that minho has been understanding!”

“whatever.” she rolls her eyes before looking at you. “that means you’ll probably be handling them. i hope they’re cute so that you can finally have something going on with your life outside of work.”

a chuckle leaves you as you get back to work. “i’m never dating an idol. i’d get hunted down by their fans.” 

“yeah, but can’t you dream a little? do you ever imagine what it would be like?”

the past plays in your mind. after school performances and interviews. broken-up popsicles. finger traps. a life you shared with changmin then—one you still cling onto.

yet, you shake your head as you edit your article. “not even.”

it’s a life you’ll keep to yourself.

“what’s the update?”

the three of you look away from each other, spotting namjoon who comes to you with a smile. long gone were the sweaters that failed to drown out his figure and the boxy glasses that would rest on the bridge of his nose. now, he wears a dress shirt and trousers with hair slicked to the side. there were no frames for him to hide behind.

“ah, namjoon! you’re dressed so nice today.”

with dokyeom’s compliment, he can’t hold back on his smile. “thank you. are you guys done with your articles?”

as your friends nod, you add the finishing touches to the document. “and done! i just finished addressing your comments.”

“great. thanks, y/n.”

“do you have something?” chaeyeon asks your editor, causing you to roll your eyes. one thing about journalists is that they love to know everything.

namjoon nods before saying, “i just had a meeting with some possible interviewees.”

“is this the one with the k-pop group?” as dokyeom asks the question, you can’t help but laugh as chaeyeon looks at him in disbelief for spilling confidential information.

your editor chuckles. “yes.”

“can we know—”

“no, you can’t know.”

chaeyeon pouts at namjoon. “not even a hint?”

namjoon ignores her question and begins to walk off. “good work, y/n!” he calls out before leaving you three alone.

“man, namjoon never tells us shit,” chaeyeon complains as she leans on the table.

“to you guys, at least,” you argue with a small shrug.

still, the gut feeling remains.

something about the newsroom feels odd to changmin. while he’s had his fair share of paranormal experiences, his gut tells him that there’s something in the office. yet, the tug isn’t one that speaks of danger. why does it feel like one of destiny?

“should we have a short break before we discuss the schedules for the photoshoots and interviews?” changmin is snapped out of his thoughts by namjoon’s suggestion.

his manager looks at the group. “do you guys need a break?”

sangyeon shoots namjoon a smile before looking at his members. “you guys can use the washroom if you need to.”

although everyone seemed fine with proceeding, changmin couldn’t shake off the feeling. maybe the leftover curry he had this morning went bad. “i’ll go,” he says as he gets off his seat.

namjoon slowly stands up. “okay, i can bring you there—”

“it’s okay! i saw the washroom on the way here,” changmin says before walking to the door. “you can discuss the details without me. i’m sure you guys will manage.”

with sangyeon’s and his manager’s nods, namjoon settles back into his seat. “okay then, here are some of the dates i have in mind...”

changmin exits the room. he bites on the inside of the cheek as he thinks of what his gut could be telling him. is it the nerves for the upcoming tour? is he worried about the next comeback they’ve been preparing? or is he scared about what the future has in store for his group?

with his mind on these questions, he doesn’t realize that he arrives in front of the bathroom door. a sigh of frustration leaves him. the worst thing about gut feelings is never knowing what they’re trying to say.

he grips the handle, ready to swing the door open, until a familiar laugh hits his ears. one of the past. one he hasn’t heard in years. his muscles freeze.

when was the last time he heard that chortle? when was the last time he became the cause of it?

his eyes dart around the area for the source but no one else is here. he can’t help but shake his head in disbelief.

it should be stupid for him to think you two would ever reunite. in what world would you be in the same place as he is? it’s been 10 years. you could be anywhere around the world. yet, he fishes for something out of his pocket; the same finger trap he linked you to him rests on the palm of his hand.

he sighs before entering the washroom and shoving it back into his pocket.

maybe he’ll hold out a little longer.

winter of 2014

out of all the seasons, changmin’s favorite is winter. snowflakes fall, filling the sky with stars that people can touch, and snow piles on sidewalks, letting him throw snowballs at his friends. despite the freezing temperatures, changmin prefers this over nearly-boiling ones.

he can’t wait to share this season with you.

yet, the familiar, chilly breeze of the season transforms into whispers, and word gets around like thrown snowballs. 

“is y/n really not going to school anymore?” changmin looks up from his desk to see cheng xiao standing in front of him. he tilts his head in confusion, causing her to roll her eyes. “are they not going here anymore?”

he frowns. “huh? what kind of rumor is that?”

“i don’t know. it’s what people have been saying,” she says as she crosses her arms. “i asked because i wanted to know if my competition’s gone, you know? and you’re the only one here who has an idea about their whereabouts.”

changmin laughs in disbelief. “no, i was with them last week.”

when changmin last saw you, you asked for space. with what’s been happening with your family, you needed time to process and cope with your issues, and he respected that. after all, he only knew a fraction of your relationship with your parents, and he didn’t want to intrude in anything you didn’t want him to be a part of. still, changmin reminded you that he’ll be there if you need him.

“damn, that sucks,” cheng xiao groans as her shoulders slump. “these stupid rumors.” as soon as she leaves changmin alone, he shakes his head.

the bell rings. students start rushing into classrooms and teachers scold those who aren’t on their seats. ms. jeon enters the room, walking to the desk in front and setting her things down. “cheng xiao, you’ll be in charge of attendance today.”

as changmin’s classmate gets off her seat, he can’t help but look at your desk that still remains empty.

“you have to message us when you land,” your mother says as she fixes the collar of your coat. despite your nod, she clicks her tongue. “answer me properly.”

“yes, i will.”

once your father finishes placing the last luggage in the trunk of the taxi, he stands beside your mother. “don’t forget why we’re sending you there. we expect you to do better with no distractions.”

your phone buzzes in your hand. as you look down, you see a message from changmin. as he asks about your whereabouts, the weight gets heavier—will you stand or crumble under it?

“who’s that?”

you stash your phone away as you look back at your parents. “nothing. it’s just an email from the school. they sent over the date for the orientation.” at the sight of their satisfied smile, you let out a small sigh of relief.

“well, go on.” your nod at your mother before getting in the car. with the windows still down, she adds, “don’t forget to get endorsement letters from the professors i sent over to you or else you won’t get to study abroad like we planned.” her choice of pronouns is funny; a plan that they crafted which never considered your input.

“okay.”

as your father commands the driver to go, your gaze remains on the two. it should be okay with you to leave cheongju; you’d be far away from your parents and experience an entirely different landscape to explore. it’s time you break away from the chains of this town. learn a life outside of what your parents forced you into.

yet, as the car takes its leave, the figure of your parents slowly shrinks. the distance from them should’ve given you the space to breathe, a relief you’ve longed for, but it only reminds you of your strained relationship. to them, it would be better that you’re out of their sight—and with your farewell, you never heard the three-word phrase.

the window rolls up. you try to hold back the tears, but the scenery of cheongju that you pass by births a storm within you. you didn’t want to say goodbye to home, regardless of how much you say you didn’t have a home in this town. every corner holds a piece of you in the same way you hold a piece of them.

the car approaches a safe haven you share. despite the snow that piles at the front, mr. kim’s convenience store is still open. you’ll never get to have his hotteok again or hear his favorite dramas play in the background. worst of all, you never got to say goodbye.

then, the familiar figure of your best friend exits the mart, and the storm transforms into a typhoon. the plastic bag he holds is filled with your favorite snacks, from the grape-flavored twin bar to a bottle of mr. kim’s homemade peach iced tea.

and in that moment that your car passes him, he pulls out his phone from his pocket, and you spot the familiar trap wrapped around his finger—the other end holds no one.

as quickly as you came into changmin’s life, he disappears from your view.

finger traps were fascinating. if you tug hard, the contraption won’t let your fingers go. yet, if you allow the two fingers to meet, allowing the toy to loosen, it’ll let you go with no harm.

but your finger trap with changmin was different. maybe it was already ripped to its seams.

interview

q: what made you decide on becoming an idol?

a: i’ve always loved dancing. growing up in cheongju, i always made time [for dance] whether it be [for] school competitions, talent shows, or even [choreographies] i wanted to try out. but i never considered becoming [an idol] until high school. a lot of my friends and family thought i was capable, and i’m glad they trusted me. it feels good to give back to them with every performance.

q: as the first trainee meant to debut in the boyz, you’ve spent more time training compared to your other members. what kept you going throughout your years of training?

a: my family’s support was one big thing that helped me [during my training.] every trip from my house to the company would last hours, and it drained me physically. so as the years went by, i started to question if all the time, money, [and] effort i was putting into an unpromised debut would be worth it, but my parents and sisters were always there to support and [take] care of me. but i’d also like to think my best friend was a major support in training years. i think they were the first one to [tell me that they saw me as an idol,] and at the time i brushed off the idea. but, look where i am now? so i think i owe a lot to them.

q: is there anything you’d like to say to those who’ve supported you as the boyz’s q?

a: mom and dad, thank you for believing in me. i know it wasn’t easy to wait until midnight for me to come home or take care of me whenever i got sick from training. thank you for always supporting me in every performance. to my sisters, thank you for helping mom and dad out at home. every day, i remind myself that you gave up so much just so i can pursue my dreams, and i want you know that i’m forever grateful for your sacrifices. to the rest of [the boyz], thank you for always allowing me to rely on you. i’m glad i can say i have brothers who i get to achieve my dreams with. deobi, thank you for your love and support over the years. i wouldn’t be the boyz’s q or ji changmin if it weren’t for you. and lastly, thank you to my best friend. i hope you’ll always be proud of me the same way i’ll forever be proud of you.

tag list: @deoboyznet @kflixnet @blankjournal @winterchimez @miusgirl @jenoscafe @sweet-unicorn-world @mosviqu @vernyangel @stealanity @deobi0412 @blue-rainydays @maessseongs @dearly-somber

[softbinu]

me @ astro 💜

[jakekiszska]

sticky sweet

vampire!jake kiszka x female!reader

a/n: finally vampire!jake is back. this is another fic i posted in october of last year on my old blog, stardustschords. i have edited it slightly and added more. 🤍

warnings: explicit sexual content, 18+. mentions of drinking, mentions of blood.

tags: pls let me know if you’d like to be added or removed. @alwayzthere @strangersingold @garbagevanfleet @harmonyhous @obetrolncocktails @singingmangoes @theweightofstardust @teddiie @gretavanfleas @brokenbellz @jordierama @bluevelvetgvf

the music inside the club was loud. incredibly loud, droning, vibrating through the floor and up into the warm bodies. it was pissing jake off.

“such a pretty face, on a pretty neck, she’s driving me crazy… but i’m into it…,” he heard blaring over the speakers. a few girls at a table nearby drunkenly sang along, butchering the words.

jake scoffed as he stepped into the crowd, eyeing the people as they danced around. he hated the music… the scenery… he had a general disdain for human activity. but, he needed to feed.

every year he chose the club scene to pick his prey— the victims were usually more willing here, intoxicated and invited in by his pretty face. it usually didn’t take him long to find someone and go in for the kill, but this time, it was different. the air in the club felt off… there was something amiss.

he’d roamed around for a moment before he spotted you, sitting at the bar tapping at your phone. if he’d been breathing, the saccharine sweet scent rolling off your body would’ve knocked the air from his lungs. he sauntered over to you, hopping up on to the neighboring barstool. he turned his body to face yours and asked, “can i buy you a drink?”

you look up at him, intrigued by what you saw sitting before you. he wasn’t a tall man, maybe average height, and he had long dark hair that had the slightest wave to it. he wore black jeans, shoes, and a long sleeved black shirt. he also wore large framed sunglasses, which you found strange… but also sexy.

“no, but thank you. i don’t drink.” you answer.

he huffed a laugh before responding, “neither do i.”

“why are you at the club, then?” he questioned, and it’s your turn to laugh when you counter, “why are you?”

“touchè.”

you looked back down at your phone, mesmerized by an influx of messages coming in from your friends, when you felt him reach out and graze a finger lightly over a vein the back of your hand. “can i help you?” you ask, cocking your head to the side, and he chuckles. “sorry. your skin just looked really soft.”

you shake your head, refocusing your attention to your phone, and he lazily drags his fingers up your arm, stopping at the crease of your elbow. you shoot him a pointed glare, but all he does is chuckle. he runs his fingers along your skin again, and you shiver.

“wanna leave?” he asks, and you laugh, tipping your head back.

“are you crazy? we just met. i don’t even know your name.”

he leans close to you, his breath fanning your face, and whispers, “i’m jake.”

you suddenly feel drunk, though you’re sober, and you quietly mumble out, “y/n.”

he laughs, and wraps an arm around you, pulling your body off the stool and bracing you against his side. “c’mon, let me get you home.”

a million thoughts are swirling around inside your mind and you feel truly intoxicated. all you know is that this stranger, jake, is guiding you… and you’re letting him.

you make it to what you believe to be his car, and he helps you into the passenger seat, buckling you in. he walks around to the drivers side and gets in himself before asking you your address. you reluctantly share it with him, but to your surprise, he actually takes you to your place.

“let me help you inside.” he commands, and you nod at him. you give him your key so he can unlock the door, and he helps you through the frame before walking you towards the couch. you let your body slump into it, your vision hazy, and you see jake kneel before you. you look up at him, and you have the sudden urge to thread your fingers through his hair… so you do.

“jake. you’re so pretty. can i see your eyes, please?” you ask, your tone slightly whiny. you’re wondering why his sunglasses are still on. he stifles a laugh, but he figures he’s about to kill you anyway, so it doesn’t matter. he pulls his glasses off but keeps his eyes closed, and you suck in a breath when you notice he’s got smudged black eye makeup framing his eyes. you never knew something like that could get you going, but it did.

“open them… please?” you plead, and he does, very slowly. his irises are jet black, and you suck in a harsh breath. a slow, dark laugh begins to pour itself from his lips, and you’re more terrified of how turned on you are than anything else. “jake… i want to kiss you. can i kiss you?” you ask, and he stops laughing instantly, his glare turning cold.

in all his years, jake had never felt emotion like this. he’d never indulged in his prey, never let them kiss him, touch him… he always simply went for the kill. he hated humans… but with you it felt different. he blinked slowly before looking you up and down, and then he nodded. “yes. you can kiss me.”

the minute you connect your lips to his you feel electric shocks pulsate through your body. unbeknownst to you, jake feels the same. he stands from his position in front of you to lean over your body, and you use your grip in his hair to pull him down on top of you. his arms meet the couch on either side of your head and he crawls to hover over you, slipping a knee between your legs.

you slide your tongue past his lips, and you gasp when you feel that the inside of his mouth is cool, inviting you in like sweet mint. you lick across the roof of his mouth before sliding your tongue along the back of his teeth, and you gasp as your tongue meets the sharp edge of what you think is a fang. although it scares you, you’re so caught up in the euphoria of what you’re doing, you can’t bring yourself to actually care.

you remove your hands from his hair, raking your nails down his still clothed back. once your fingertips reach the hem of his shirt, you tug on it, signaling that you want it off. he obliges, reaching an arm behind his back and grabbing the neckline of the tee, pulling it off in one go. you admire his toned, tanned abdomen, skirting your fingers down his chest.

you look up and meet his gaze, watching as he smirks at you. you can tell he wants your shirt off too, so you pull it over your head, leaving your silky black bra exposed. he groans above you before sliding an arm up your back and tangling his fingers into your hair at the base of your neck. you gasp as he tugs lightly, and he suddenly flips you so that he’s sitting against the couch with you on top of him.

from the new position in his lap you could easily maneuver your arms around his neck, so you wrapped them around his throat. you brushed the hair off his shoulder and leaned in to press a kiss to his collarbone, eliciting a gasp from his lips. you watched his eyes screw shut in pleasure, and you licked a stripe up his neck. his skin tasted sweet, like warm butterscotch melting onto your tongue, and you peppered kisses along his jaw before meeting his lips again.

you felt his hands dance along your sides before reaching behind your back and unclasping your bra. you shrug it off and then you moan as you feel him thumb over your nipple. “fuck, jake…” you sigh, and you can feel him smile against your lips. he pushes you back slightly to break the kiss before leaning down to flick your nipple with his tongue. he keeps eye contact with you as he continues to swirl his tongue around it, using his pointer finger and thumb to squeeze the other one. you lean back, arching forward into him before you hear him command, “take them off.”

you know he wants you to fully undress, but you make sure he knows that he has to as well. you stand from your place atop him and unbutton your jeans, attempting to take them off sensually. he laughs at your before undoing the clasp of his belt and then unbuttoning his own jeans. he pulls them off, along with his underwear, and you watch as his cock springs up against his abdomen. you slide your panties down your legs next, and then you look at him with your head turned slightly, a silent plea to take him between your lips.

he doesn’t give you an explicit answer, so you drop to your knees before him, wrapping your hand slowly around the base. you bring your lips down to the tip, sticking your tongue out slowly to lick across the slit. you can see him tip his head back, a soft moan escaping him. you take the tip into your mouth slowly, teasing him. you learn quickly that his patience is thin, because he threads his fingers through your hair again and tugs you off of him. he holds your head steady and takes himself into his own hand, slapping his cock against your cheek. “we’re gonna do this at my pace, okay?” he breathes, and you nod your head the best you can.

you open your mouth for him again and he slides you down onto his length until it hits the back of your throat, and you gag. immediately he begins to fuck your face, and tears sting at the corner of your eyes. you try to keep your eyes open to look at him, but you falter every now and then. you’re caught up in the pleasure of it, hanging on to every broken sound and curse that leaves his lips. without warning he pulls you off completely, and you almost mourn the loss of contact. “please…” you hear him start, his voice distant, “i need to fuck you.”

you climb back into his lap and position yourself above him, grabbing the base of his cock and sliding it through your folds before sinking down onto him. you suck in a sharp breath at the feeling, digging crescent shapes into his shoulders with your nails. he barely gives you any time to adjust before grabbing you by your hips and slowly rocking you back and forth. he lifts you up slightly and slams you back down and you let out an audible scream.

once you regain the slightest bit of composure you use your grip on his shoulders as leverage and gyrate your hips around him slowly before you start to ride him. he holds you by your sides, his head tipped back and eyes screwed shut. you reach down a hand to rub circles onto your clit but before you can, he smacks your arm away and does it himself. strings of pleasure attach themselves to every nerve ending in your body as you work yourselves closer to the edge.

“jake, i-i’m… i’m gonna cum,” you manage to stutter out, pleasure overtaking your body. before you can, he reaches out and grasps your jaw, turning your head to expose your neck and making sure you can’t move. as he continues to fuck up into you, sending you over the edge with the most powerful orgasm you’ve ever experienced, he sinks his teeth into your neck. he holds your head steady as you writhe on top of him, a mixture of the overwhelming pain and pleasure. after a few moments he pulls away, blood dripping from the corners of his mouth.

your body slumps forward, blood streaming down your neck and into the valley of your breasts, dripping all over your body and his. you connect your lips to his, tasting your own blood in his mouth, and he lets out a soft moan before chuckling.

the lyrics from the song in the club come back to him, and he laughs at the irony of the words as the hot stream of blood running down your neck drips onto his body.

“hard candy dripping on me til’ my feet are wet.” replays in his head.

you begin to quickly lose conciousness, and he pulls of off of him before laying you on your side, your head lulling over. he’d refrained from draining your body— the atmosphere in the club had let him know his other half had been nearby.

he leans down to press a soft kiss to your forehead before whispering, “my mate. i’ll be here when you wake up.”

[miekasa]

mie.. i’m going into another eren phase.. so can you pls tell me your fav boyfie eren hcs…

Yeah, why not. I have so many random ones because he is my boyfriend <333 so here you gp

sfw

Eren doesn't actually work out all that often. He’s always been athletic, so his exercise comes in the form of playing sports, but he doesn’t really go to the gym outside of playing/practice.

Loves cake pops, more often than not “treats himself” to one after an exam or assignment, or whenever he feels like it lmfao. He basically eats it all in one bite, keeps the stick in his mouth to fidget with until he finds a trashcan. 

Likes seeing you in his hoodies because, well, it’s his hoodie on you; but mostly because of the size of the actual hood on you. He thinks it’s so funny but also pretty cute how the hood alone swallows you up. 

Grocery shopping with you is one of his favorite activities. He rarely goes by himself—if not with you, then with Mikasa or Armin—and all he really does is follow you around the store and occasionally put some stuff in the cart, but he still loves it. He likes running and then jumping on the cart like it’s a scooter. 

No matter how many makeup tutorials he watches, or how many times he watches you do your own makeup, he doesn’t really understand how it works lmfao. He likes watching it, and he thinks you look pretty if wearing makeup is your thing, but he baffles him how a little tube of concealer brightens your under eye.

Speaking of which, he sits criss cross applesauce either on your bed or on the toilet if you’re in the bathroom, while he watches you do your makeup. Counts the steps in his head, always confuses the contour and bronzer. It’s okay, he’s learning. 

He both likes and dislikes FaceTime. He likes the convenience of it (and will abuse it by calling you even tho you’ve just barely left his house), but he would much rather just go and see you; so he does. Unless there’s something keeping you apart, Eren will make the effort and the trip to go and see you, even if it’s late at night. 

He gets warm very easily, but always has some sort of coat/outerwear on him, even if it’s just a light windbreaker. He usually ends up hanging it over your shoulders or telling you to wear it because you “look cold” when he wants to take it off. 

He walks just like a half step behind you; technically still by your side, but trailing you by the tiniest amount. That way he gets to be with you and watch you, and also steer you away from anything/anyone else he sees ahead while you’re walking. 

If he notices your shoelaces are untied, he gently pokes your shoulder to get you to stop, then bends down and ties them for you. 

His phone case is brown leather, and has your initials engraved at the very bottom in a very tiny, dark green font. 

Likes walking around with you at night so congrats on having your own personal guard dog for Safety lmfaoo. Sometimes you guys don’t even talk; he just wants to hold your hand and wander around, and just be with you for a little bit. 

He is the one putting hair ties on YOUR gear shift and around YOUR wrist. Marking his territory lmfaooo

Learns to like coffee in college, and learns your Starbucks order pretty quickly. He’s got a very small addiction, but he always buys you a cup when he gets his own, so at least it’s beneficial for you. He doesn’t usually have much an extreme sweet tooth, but he takes his coffee with quite a few pumps of syrup and/or sweetener. 

Eren loves hugs, and once he starts getting them, he refuses to go with out them. Back hugs are his favorite, whether it be you hugging him from behind, or him doing it to you; either works for him, both feel like heaven. 

You know when it’s time to head home after a party/hanging with your friends because Eren will drape himself over you and gradually apply more of his body weight the more tired/drunk he gets. Regardless of whether or not he’s sloshed, he’ll still press very light and innocent kisses onto your neck and ears. 

Turns out he really likes getting kisses on his cheeks. It always takes him by surprise; his eyes widen and his eyebrows raise just a bit, but he usually evens out his expression before you pull back, so you don’t see. What you do see is the sorta glazed over, happy look in his eyes, and if you look closely, you might see his pupils dilate, too. 

He actually doesn’t mind reading, he just never thinks to read in his free time. When he does remember, and what he’s reading is interesting to him, he finishes the book pretty quickly—a few days, maybe a week at most—it’s kind of impressive. Then he goes on to not look at another book for a good five months lmfao. 

Asked you what detergent and fabric softener you used on your sheets, then bought the exact same products to do his laundry with. 

He picks you up pretty often. It’s not always tossing you over his shoulder, or carrying you bridal style, but if he needs to get to something behind you in the kitchen he’ll just. Just pick you up, turn, plop you down, get what he needs, pick you up, turn around again, and plop you right back into place. Like a doll. 

Actually very good and very meticulous when it comes to cleaning. Not a single hard water stain in sight on your dishes. Sparkling countertops and tables, your oven has never looked shinier than when he’s done with it. 

Doodles on his notes when he’s bored in class. Doodles on your notes if he’s bored in class and you’re there, too. 

He claims to not get jealous easily, but he definitely does. His methods of dealing with it are either to (a) pout (usually only happens when he gets jealous of someone you’re telling him about), (b) find an excuse to pull you away from this other person, (c) be extremely cold to this other person, (d) pretend to be sick/tired/hungry as an excuse for you to be concerned about him/dote on him in front of this other person (this is his favorite method). 

Will push your phone down/into your face if you’re laying down using it or just scrolling through your feeds. Thinks it’s peak comedy, always runs away with a little shit grin on his mouth. 

He’s always tuned into you, and sometimes physically turned to you, even in a larger conversation with other people around. Finds a way to pull you into the convo if you’ve been on the quieter side, nudges at your side under the table to bother you when you’re distracted, frequently looks at you even if someone else is talking. 

nsfw/suggestive

Eren really likes lazy sex, and it’s arguably one of his favorites; and for someone who’s not a morning person, he sure does like morning sex. He does this thing where he wakes up at like eight in the morning, starts feeling up on you, and eventually very lazily fucks you before you even have the chance to say good morning, then crashes and sleeps for another two hours. Sometimes he doesn’t pull out. 

Always gets hard when you do try on hauls of the new clothes you’ve bought; whether it be via FaceTime or in person. You could be showing him your new sweatpants, and he’ll still find it sexy. 

Can and will find time to grope you whenever possible. Getting water from the kitchen means you’re getting your ass smacked while you open the fridge. Putting on your shoes also means you’re getting your ass smacked when you bend over. Standing around debating on what to wear for the day means he’s coming up behind you to put his hands on your boobs. Doing your skincare routine in the bathroom means he’s got his hands on your hips squeezing at your skin. 

Likes being bitten. Will tell you to bite him; he’ll lean down while he’s fucking you, smile wickedly when you grab and claw at his back, and you’re gasping against his shoulder, “Wanna hurt me? Go ahead, baby, do your worst.” 

He loves making out with you, even if it doesn’t lead to sex; actually, sometimes, he prefers it that way. You make his head spin just by kissing him, and there’s a special kind of bliss of just rutting against each other without fucking that he loves. 

Lovesssss taking mirror selfie’s with you on his lap and your back to the mirror, especially right after sex. Your head resting on his shoulder and he just barely murmurs, “Stay right there, don’t move.” Might start a collection of pics like that.

Tugging on his ear acts as encouragement, but somewhat surprisingly, that sole action doesn’t necessarily turn him on; it doesn’t turn him off, and he likes it, but it’s more... soothing? than sexual to him. What you should do instead is put your hand on the back of his neck/touch the hair near his nape. 

He could have done all the work, but will still wrap you in his arms and kiss your head and tell you how good you are, how good you were to him. He really does think you fucked him 9/10 times and takes pride in it too lmaooo

Holds your jaw open with one hand, presses the index and middle fingers of his other hand against your tongue, and watches your spit pool around him. He exhales slowly at the sight, moving his fingers around to coat them evenly before pulling them out of your mouth and separating them; watches a thin line of spit connect them and groans. 

Holds you jaw a lot, actually: when you’re kissing, when you’re blowing him, when he’s on top and fucking you, when he’s fucking you from behind, he’ll pull you up with one hand, use two fingers and turn your head to the side so he can kiss you. 

It’s him that kinda loses it first most of the time; that gets that fucked out, hazy look in his eyes, that makes everything feel like too much so his head drops to your shoulder and he resorts to biting at your neck to further stimulate you. 

Likes sucking on your tongue when you kiss. Falls in love with you all over again on the spot when you do it back to him. 

You could just barely put your hands on him and Eren will groan, mutter about how you’re so sexy and how badly he wants to fuck you. Could just lay back with your chest heaving from kissing him and he’s got hearts in his eyes and his dick is hard. 

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

MICKEY MY MOUTH IS WATERING MY HEART IS RACING MY HANDS ARE SHAKING IM LITERALLY ABOUT TO COMBUST

i honestly dont trust myself to Like. express myself coherently rn. so im just gonna go thru all the notes i made while reading this one by one <333

but mickey i need u to know that i ADORE this fic im literally so obsessed and bewitched i dont even know what to do w myself. i dont know where to begin. i feel like a rabid dog. i need to be sedated immediately THANK U for this masterpiece 😭😭😭😭😭 pls give me ur ring size rn

the prince's heart thumps in his chest - for once in his life he might actually be a bit anxious. nervous, even. no, no way. he'll talk himself out of it just like any other time. his charm will save him.

"wanna see what your insides look like, pretty boy!"

okay, maybe not. 

RIGHT OFF THE BAT THIS IS SO SO FUNNY im already in love w this fic. im so charmed. its so crazy how much prince!gojo’s personality shines through in a single paragraph u r SO talented mickey. hes so charming and endearing and annoying im already in love w him </3

"why hello, gentlemen! fancy seeing you here! didn't take you for nature guys but it is a lovely day today, isn't it?" still down on the soft grass bed, the prince tries to slowly back away from the hunters before him. 

a palm flies over his mouth, surpressing the giggles thrathening to leave. how can one be so proud of his own joke?

AND IM IMMEDIATELY PROVEN RIGHT goooood hes so. hes so funny and charming and witty and cute???? a little cutiepie??????? i need to bite him like a puppy w a chew toy

shit, where is suguru? 

SUGURU MENTIONED‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

and as if an answer to his question — a sudden loud neigh cuts the tension on the clearing and a saviour appears. 

a black horse, with a mane darker than night, stands back on it's hind legs - looming over the prince and the peasants. a figure sits up high, bright sunlight beaming from right behind them, the shadow hiding their face. but the prince knows — it's not suguru. no, this is someone else entirely. 

armor clangs as the figure hastily jumps off their horse, mumbling a quick go, boy! to the animal. he takes off into the woods, leaving just the hunters and the prey behind. 

a knight. coming to save him.

GOD MICKEY. knight!reader’s appearance is SO cool and hype and just. enchanting????? esp paired w gojo’s dreamlike state, i can see it so vividly in my head …….. like a movie. all hazy and sunlit and sparkly. gleaming and bursting into his world. THE ARMOR THE HORSE THE HEROIC LIGHT…..

im sure u can tell by now mickey but there isnt a single thing in this world that i love more than Knights they literally make me insane (and this fic made my obsession w them worse </3)

who are you? you're surrounded by some kind of holy light — an angel, sent just for him. 

AAAAA mickey … 🥺🥺 gojo seeing reader as an angel sent to save him …..,,, even tho theyre so tough and stoic and violent. smth abt it just scratches a certain corner of my brain im obsessed

the big scar running down across your right eye forever engrained into his mind. 

I LOVEEEE SCARS SM i think theyre so cool and pretty i already love ur take on knight!reader sm … :’3

a mighty knight like you doesn't have the time to worry about such silly things, although the prince thinks he would gladly (and generously) share some of his special made lip balm with you. preferably straight from his lips to yours. 

SO CUTE SO CUTEEE u get gojo so well mickey. i think no matter the au he would share his lip balm w u and he would do it in the most embarrassing way possible <3333 ohhh i adore him

AND THE ACTION SEQUENCEE ….. READER CUTTING HIS HEAD OFF FUCKKKK THATS SO COOL

"next." <- THEYRE SO COOL THEYRE SO COOL THEYRE SO COOL also the subtle reference to gojo’s shibuya moment…. i See the vision

the prince blue eyes rise from the sight in front of him to you and your eyes meet for the first time ever. a prince and his knight.

something about this line hits me so hard A PRINCE N HIS KNIGHT ….. their eyes meeting ………. the fated meeting between them hhhh

the prince watching the scene unfold with exhilaration. this just might be his dream – he's the damsel in distress and you are his knight.

PRINCE!GOJO IS SO MEEEE i would be so so SO infatuated… also mickey im literally so weak for casual reversals of gender roles <33 my biggest weakness. satoru is so damsel in distress coded….. pretty boy just wants to be swept off his feet!!

you're panting; a light sheen of sweat covers your forehead – a drop runs down the side of your face. the heavy armor and the sword are taking their toll but it's nothing new, you're used to this. thick dark blood drips from your blade - they're good friends by now, they often meet. the silver and red mix together, making a color you know all too well.  

im melting im crumbling im turning into Mush mickey u owe me financial compensation for this. i will NEVER be the same. i love this whole paragraph so much there r tears in my eyes its so TASTY…. such a vivid scene. i love knights SO much and i love this kind of depiction of beautiful brutality…… AND UR WRITING STYLEEE gosh its so pretty. im literally so invested already u dont UNDERSTAND T_T

he tries to bother suguru as much as he can, it's pretty much the only entertainment he has.

ANOTHER KNIGHT!SUGU MENTION im collecting them. putting them in my pocket. i need a whole entire fic of prince!gojo bothering knight!sugu they mean the WORLD to me

"stand back, your highness." you try to command him.

"no way." he replies with a smile.

HES SUCH A BRAT I LOVE HIM :( and wahhh theyre fighting together!!!!! theyve got each others back!!!!!! this is literally peak romance idc what ANYONE says

it's quite pleasing to watch; how smoothly he walks; with no shame - like he owns this clearing (he quite literally does). just like you, he knows he's already won this duel. it pleasing to watch how he raises his sword with a smile; how he knows there won't be a single consequence to anything he could possibly do to this man. he can have his time with him. 

i love him i love him i love him. u write him so WELL mickey T~T hes so playful and just. easygoing … so far above. like hes above all consequences and he IS….. theres smth almost scary about it but also sooo…. charming. i can rly imagine him fighting here, almost playing with his food, waltzing w his opponent…………. ”a boy, who's used to playfighting instead of surviving.” is rly the perfect description of it ty knight!reader <3

"this isn't a game." you deadpan to the price. 

SMTH ABT THIS ……….. maybe i really am just too weak to knights for my own good LMAO but im kind of in love w knight!reader. VERY in love w knight!reader. theyre so interesting and such a good foil to prince!gojo aaaaaa </3

it's uncanny, how good he looks. no. scratch that. it's uncanny, how excited he still looks. a smirk stays glued to his lips, his cheeks are flushed and his eyes are just about to pop out of his head, pupils so dilated that the crystalline blue color of his eyes is almost entirely gone. his lips are parted and he's panting a little, resembling a puppy - ready to do anything just to go outside and play.

MICKEYYYY THIS ENTIRE PARAGRAPH IM LOSING IT IM BITING AT MY FIST LIKE A CHEW TOY oh god . hes so PRETTY im pissed. the way he almost seems manic….. BUT THEN U COMPARE HIM TO A PUPPYYYY MICKEY IM TEARING UP

hes so…….. hes just a little puppy. i want to pick him up n cradle him close to my chest. panting and wagging his tail ☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️ bro.

"these men are trying to kill you, your highness."  blood pools in your mouth and you spit it out, wiping your mouth once more. 

"whatever." he laughs. he plays with the blade in his hand but his eyes are cemented to your bloodied lips. 

OH HES NOT SLICK AT ALL…….

the prince's mouth falls agape. how dare you mock him? and how dare you look so good while doing it?

ME AND PRINCE!GOJO ARE LIKE THIS 🤝🤝 i really do adore this kind of dynamic… knight!reader is violent and beautiful and dangerous and gojo is just watching them lovingly <333

"and need i remind you, i am your prince." he stands next to you, eagerly trying to assert dominance but the jutted out lip almost makes you laugh. 

"oh, my deepest apologies for offending your pride, my prince." you bow down, just enough to really get your teasing point across.

THE BANTER THE TEASING THE THE THE (sound of buzzing static). ”my prince” i literally started foaming at the mouth I LOVE THEM BOTH SOOO MUCH

you watch the light go from his eyes and you let out a deep sigh. closing your eyes, you lift your head up to the sky, momentarely basking in the warm sunlight. 

(…)

but the over exaggerating sigh emitting from the prince makes you take a peek at him. he's almost mimicking you - standing up with his head lolled back and eyes closed, he also seems to be enjoying the sun. just like you.

this is such a pleasant mental image…… so vivid and peaceful and just. such a tender little respite from all the violence ……. and!!! the emphasis on the fact that theyre the same, that both of them r just two people basking in sun :< mickey u evil genius

he's staring down at you, looking at the concentrated look on your scarred face. the close proximity is already clouding his head, the touch deprivation really kicking in. yeah, no, he's officially addicted.

TOUCH STARVED GOJO TOUCH STARVED GOJO 👏👏👏👏👏 hes literally soooooo real to me. i think a headscratch could fix him

bending down you pick up the piece of cloth made out of the most expensive materials, surely, just for the prince. swiping your rough fingers over it, you marvel in the softness of it. it's completely and utterly foreign to you. not meant for you to touch.

not meant for u to touch ….. :c u show their differences in status so subtly n seamlessly… i almost forgot it bc of how in sync they were while fighting but im assuming that the gap between them will be a big theme later on in the series too and im just sooooo excited to see where it goes!!! i feel like its gonna make me cry tho :’3

”he's very well-trained." the prince muses.

"he is." (…) ”unlike you, of course." it's a mumble, if anything. a quiet breath under your nose yet the prince hears it nonetheless - his eyebrows shooting up.

"excuse me?"

READER IS SO SASSSYYYY oh i adore them. and again!!! their banter is so GOOD and fun to read im so addicted to ur dialogue aaaaa

"wait-wait! i don't even know your name! you just saved the prince, i really should now your name." he says loudly. he speaks like he's not afraid to take up space. you envy him. 

YOU ENVY HIMMMM………….. im literally so so SO interested in knight!reader their personality shines through so well in the narration and its just so good…. that subtle envy, maybe a bit of admiration…. like a child watching a dove take flight into the sky………. i am Thinking many thoughts (<- my obsession is growing deeper by the second)

"satoru." 

you look at him confused. the boy stands in the field of blood with a beaming smile and an outstreched hand. inviting you in. "my name."

"i know your name, your higness."

"well, i want you to use it."

"absolutely not, your highness." 

"i command you." 

…

MICKEY THE WAY I FELL TO MY FUCKING KNEES hes so…… ohhh hes just soooooooo…….. u made both prince!gojo and knight!reader WAY too charming and attractive i have no idea who im more jealous of atp 😭😭😭 ”i command you.” i respect reader so much bc i wouldve folded like a lawn chair

ALSO JUST … THE INTIMACY OF A NAME ….. him wanting u to call him by name, wanting to know urs…. reaching a hand out. beaming. hes the apple of my eye <3333

but theres smth sooo…. tender here that reader rejects i think. that little step hes taking into their world. but obv reader cant reciprocrate bc they just Arent on equal grounds at all…. GAHH I WANT THEM TO CALL HIM BY NAME THOUGH ☹️☹️ i feel like itd be so so sweet and i also think he’d fall to his knees PHSJDJS

"i pretend i do not hear, your highness."

his shoulders fall, his lower lip jutting out. "but you have to!"

"i do not, your highness."

"isn't a prince's command sacred?" he skips over to you. "or something?"

"or something, your highness."

oh hes the cutest EVER. just a little lad. skipping around. in my brain ur prince!gojo is making this :3 face 24/7…. and reading is just -_- THEYRE MY EVERYTHING

"good luck!" 

"oh, fuck off."

THEYRE SO <333333333 this is what love looks like to me

the prince is sure he's in love. and since love is blind, he definitely does not see the real danger of the situation; he truly believes you will kill this man in one go and you'll be on your merry way home. he'll be swinging his legs while sitting behind you, whistling alongside the birds.

oooooooohhhhhhh i love this. im sure im repeating myself atp but mickey u need to understand how much i love ur prince!gojo….. how perfect ur characterization of him is….. he’s spoiled, and he rly does seem to think that hes above consequences. which is probably INFURIATING for reading lmao but something abt it is almost…. idk the right word for it. he just has this innocence to him…

i also love how he’s just reader’s lil hypeman LOL. like a girl at the club who picks a fight w everyone and then brings her 6’0 boyfriend in to defend her LMAOOO

a clap. 

a clap is what brings your eyes up from the lifeless body laying dead on the ground. 

"knew you could do it!" the clapping echoes in your ears; another bloody ball of spit leaves your mouth and you wipe the remains with the back of your hand. "jus' needed a bit of help at first, no big deal."

this is so attractive to me im sorry I LOVE PRINCE!GOJO SOOO MUCH <333 i just know he was sitting there twirling his hair kicking his feet watching his beloved knight behead a whole man <33

ALSOOOO i hope ive made this clear enough already but!!! i love ur dialogue so SO much and also just ur writing style in general…… its extremely late here rn so my brain is a bit groggy but this is just so FUN to read, its not straining at all!!! and ur characterization is so so so enjoyable wahhhh 🥺🥺 im just so enamored by it all !!

"get up."

"nuh-uh."

...

"w- what do you mean 'nuh-uh'? get up, i'm taking you home."

NOT THE NUH UH PSJFKDJDJFJ HES SO INFURIATING 😭😭😭 i fear i am in love.

"lay here with me a moment."

"are you fucking serious?" 

HELP THE WAY HE WANTS TO HAVE A ROMANTIC MOMENT W U SOOOO BADLY ….. 

"this isn't a negotiation. get up."

"c'moooon."

"get the fuck up."

"you look really good from this angle, you know."

oh im so WEAK for flirty x stoic dynamics…. they give me butterflies i love these two to the moon and back actually. i need them to kiss.

in one quick motion, the tip of your blade touches his jaw - the cold steel tilting up his head. his adam's apple bobs and the sharp edge slides an inch on his glassy skin.

HEAVY BREATHING HEAVY BREATHING HEAVY BREATHING HEAVY BREAPDJDKFBDUXBXB MCIKEY. MICKEY. u r ticking ALL my boxes rn please stop i can literally feel my brain rearranging itself . i am Not the same person i was ten minutes ago

it's the quiet anger in your eyes; he can see that you're holding yourself back. if he were anyone else, he'd surely be dead already. you're clenching your teeth, your jaw tensing. it's hot. 

(…)

the tip of your blade presses more into his skin, making him back down with a breathy chuckle. he thinks you won't hurt him. 

oh, but you will. 

the cold blade sinks half an inch into his neck, stopping when a drop of blood dribbles down it. the sun shines down on the warm liquid, making it appear lighter in tone than it actually is. it trickles down the prince's neck and straight onto his whiter than snow shirt. just a drop.

the prince holds his breath. a new kind of excitement running in his veins. blood rushing to... somewhere. 

GOJO IS SO FUCKING REAL IM LITERALLY SALIVATING. mickey this entire sequence might be my absolute fave part of the whole fic and TRUST ME its hard to pick a fave …… i was foaming at the mouth reading this i literally have no words. this is my greatest weakness. im lying on the floor like a gutted fish. the blade tilting his jaw… the blood against pale skin…… the fear mixing w attraction i am going FERAL

(also can i just say …. gojo getting a fucking boner from this is so UNBELIEVABLY real i cant believe him. hes Me. we are the same. theres something very wrong w him <33)

the prince clears his throat and refrains from commenting on the fact that your warm hand still sits in his. it takes you a second to realize and you pull away from him as if you just got burned. the prince wipes off the blood on his neck – the wound remaining a constant remainder of you. looking away, you sheathe your sword and step towards your awaiting horse. you also feel the need to clear your throat; a strange lump keeps forming in there and you don't really know why. 

the prince follows you with quick steps and this time, to your surprise, he doesn't fight on the matter of going home. he lets you get on first and then with the help of your offered hand, he sits himself behind you – arms circling your armored waist. for safety purposes, of course. 

this is so so cute and tender …. the comfortable silence and subtle intimacy and the simmering tension ….. it feels like puppy love to me. at least from gojo’s side. just a bunch of blushing and nervous gazes and careful touches i am melting through the floorboards

the late afternoon sun is slowly starting to set, warming the back of the sleepy prince behind you. an unexpected weight rests itself against your shoulder and you try to glance at it – and it really is the sleepy prince. his eyes are closed, his long elegant white eyelashes lay against his skin. his cheek is completely smushed against your armor, both lips jutted out as if awaiting his fairytale kiss. he's kind of cute like this. 

🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 mickey there are TEARS in my eyes help me hes the cutest eepiest sweetest boy in the whole wide world. AND THIS VIBE …. the sunshine…. the warmth……. i can literally feel it so vividly goshhhh this fic is so comforting

"hey!" a smooth voice calls to you and you're met with another knight. he's beautiful. 

OHHHHH MY SUGU RADAR IS BEEPING SO LOUD RN

he's stood by the castle gates, convering with another servant but seeing you he scraps his sentence and hastily makes his way over to you. he's holding his helm under his arm, his dark black hair gently blowing in the summery wind. his eyes are glued to the man behind you – you can see the worry swirling in them. and you can also see it disappear when he hears the prince snore. "is he sleeping?"

a sigh. "yeah."

"fuckin' christ. of course, he is." his eyes have now found yours and he's studying you. you're not from around here, at least not from this town. he reckons you're here for the money; he doesn't blame you. "thanks for bringing him back." 

THERE HE ISSSSSS ‼️‼️‼️‼️ MY SPECIAL BOY 😭😭😭😥😥😥😥😥 oh i LOVE the way u write him mickey hes soooo funny and snarky n secretly caring <333 the way hes worried at first…. stsg are soulmates no matter the universe i think

"i know. just... buy the sleeping beauty a new fancy little outfit with it, why don't you?" you can't hide the small little smirk on your lips, imagining his reaction to your words. 

I LOOOVEEEEE KNIGHT!READER I LOVE THEM TO THE MOON AND BACK IM PICKING THEM UP N COVERING THEM IN KISSES <3333333 mickey i literally cant tell u how in awe i am of u and ur characterization like. GAHH. theyre both SO charming i cant believe u have me simping for both of them 😔😔 wasnt one enough.

this prince — this irritatingly beautiful boy with an even more irritating personality and an even more beautiful smile won't definitely haunt you for the rest of your life. he won't.

right?

@me before starting jjk LMAOOO bUT seriously…. i love this paragraph!! so much. irritatingly beautiful rly is the best possible description of gojo i think…. and reader being in denial ………… these two are going to make me lose it entirely i can FEEL it

aaaand thats it for my notes !!!!! MICKEY IDK IF U CAN TELL BUT. im literally insane. i feel insane. i gobbled this up like the finest cuisine bc thats exactly what it is.

i loveloveLOVE ur take on them and ur writing and dialogue and characterization and just !!!! this fic in general !!!!!! 🥺🥺🥺🥺 SO many moments had me giggling n smiling n foaming at the mouth LMAO….. i know i already said it but this was just so FUN to read, it didnt feel long at all and i enjoyed every bit of it <3333

ack. i just!! i cant praise u enough!!!!! im in awe!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! in shambles!!!!! this fic deserves a billion notes and then some. i have the biggest smile on my face rn words cant explain how much i love this. how much i love YOU. tysm for feeding the entire fandom w this concept <3333333 uve added at least two decades to my life span im not even kidding i would lay down my life for u!!!!

i feel like i have so much more to say but the words just. Wont come out PLS just know ily and i love this and i love prince!gojo & knight!reader and im literally so excited to read the rest of this series u dont even KNOW. if u feel a sudden warmth envelop u out of nowhere today thats me hugging u telepathically <333 picking u up and spinning u around!!!!!! i appreciate u so much 🥺🥺

thank u so so so much for this meal mickey i devoured every single crumb. pls tell knight!reader & prince!gojo that i love them :’3

SUMMER - THE FIRST MEETING

☆. contains: prince!gojo satoru x gn!knight!reader; crack, fluff; meet-cute????; blood and death; tw gojo is fucking ridiculous; a couple of suggestive comments and a boner mention; also a knight!suguru mention (thank u moss); reader has scars

☆. word count: 6k

☆. note: dedicated to @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat thank you for being insane about them with me and thank you for being my inspiration&lt;333

adrenaline pumps in his veins.

the branches scratch his marble skin as he runs through the forest, followed by the loud thumping of six or seven men. the sudden loudness amidst the trees scares even the birds, flocks of them flying in their seperate ways over the clear blue sky.

"c'mere, boy!"

"yeah! we jus' wanna talk!" their deep dark laughter echoes between the trees. the prince's heart thumps in his chest - for once in his life he might actually be a bit anxious. nervous, even. no, no way. he'll talk himself out of it just like any other time. his charm will save him.

"wanna see what your insides look like, pretty boy!"

okay, maybe not.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

he tries to catch a glimpse of them over his shoulder and immediately trips over a branch, falling face first into a cute small clearing. the perfect little spot for a murder attempt of a prince.

"well, well, well. if it isn't the honored one." says one of the men that had been chasing him. another one steps into the clearing after him and from the corner of his eye he spots another pair. he's clearly outnumbered.

"why hello, gentlemen! fancy seeing you here! didn't take you for nature guys but it is a lovely day today, isn't it?" still down on the soft grass bed, the prince tries to slowly back away from the hunters before him.

"where's your sword, boy? stupid of you to come out without it. you never know what lurks in the shadows, heh." another voice booms from the left. two more men leaning on trees, one of them plays with a knife while the other lights a smoke. the bright sunlight bounces off the knife, making the prince gulp.

now typically, he would have it with him but well, he hadn't really planned on getting ambushed, now did he? his plan was to enjoy the warm weather and time away from his father. so this time, he does not have it. this one time he decides he'll do fine without it is the time for these money hungry bastards to make their move. how unfortunate.

"i was actually hoping to use one of yours." he says with a smile.

the men laugh.

a bald one steps forward, the leader the prince presumes. he plays with the tip of his blade, letting it glide over his palm as he starts making his way over to the prince.

"you really are as arrogant as they say. d'ya know how much your head costs?"

the prince laughs.

"what's so funny, boy?"

"i don't think you gents can even comprehend how much my head would cost."

a palm flies over his mouth, surpressing the giggles thrathening to leave. how can one be so proud of his own joke? his attackers stare at the prince with straight faces - they either don't understand or they're seriously beginning to take him for a bit of a loony.

"not funny? i thought it was funny. you know, head?" the prince's tongue pokes at his cheek, his hand making a back and forth motion and one of the men gags. "what?! you're the ones talking about my head!"

"enough."

the baldy is only a few steps away but the prince doesn't really have a plan. should he run again? the castle is far, would he even make it there? sure, he's fast but there's way more of them. hell, there might be more hiding in the trees. what if they do have horses somewhere? they'll catch him for sure. shit, where is suguru?

and as if an aswer to his question — a sudden loud neigh cuts the tension on the clearing and a saviour appears.

a black horse, with a mane darker than night, stands back on it's hind legs - looming over the prince and the peasants. a figure sits up high, bright sunlight beaming from right behind them, the shadow hiding their face. but the prince knows — it's not suguru. no, this is someone else entirely.

armor clangs as the figure hastily jumps off their horse, mumbling a quick go, boy! to the animal. he takes off into the woods, leaving just the hunters and the prey behind.

a knight. coming to save him.

"step back." confidently unsheathing your sword, you point the silvery blade at the baldy. your voice is rough and the prince definitely doesn't recognise you.

"we were here first." he bites back.

"he's mine."

and then the prince falls into a dream-like state. the short interaction between his knight and the bandits falls deaf on his ears as he's busy taking you in. who are you? you're surrounded by some kind of holy light — an angel, sent just for him. he has never seen you before, he'd definitely remember you if he had. he glances over your armor, noticing the small specks of rust covering the joints of the cuirass. you're not wearing a helm so the prince can take his time to remember your eyes; the big scar running down across your right eye forever engrained into his mind. and it's not the only one – you've clearly taken some hits; a strong warrior nonetheless. your eyes are set on the bald bastard in front of you – cold and hunter-like? absolutely devoid of fear and anything alike, you know you will best the men before you. you shall brush them off and count this as a quick and simple victory. your posture is immaculate, your head held up high – it's making him a bit jealous really, all the times he's been lectured about not having a straight back flood his mind. he should be ashamed. his eyes fall to your lips; they're a little chapped but that's completely understandable. a mighty knight like you doesn't have the time to worry about such silly things, although the prince thinks he would gladly (and generously) share some of his special made lip balm with you. preferably straight from his lips to yours.

a sudden light in the corner of his eye breaks breaks him from his dream and gives him a second to scoot backward – to escape the sharp blade coming down his way very fucking fast —

it lands right between his thighs, awfully close to his precious manhood and he gasps. big widened eyes gaze up at the perpetrator but before he can say anything, a quick swing at the man's neck makes the lump in the prince's throat grow in size. the man's mouth opens and closes twice, eyes rolling back before the whole head rolls off the body. it falls between the prince's legs, right next to the sword, the body following a mere second later. blood splatters out of the limp figure, painting the lush green grass a deep dark red color instead.

"next."

the prince blue eyes rise from the sight in front of him to you and your eyes meet for the first time ever. a prince and his knight.

but moment doesn't last. you tear your sharp eyes from his infatuated ones and glare at the men hiding in the treeline. it seems they need a moment to collect themselves – as they should. not everybody is able to cleave a head off a body in one swing.

they've heard stories about you.

an abrupt war cry emits from behind one of the trees, accompanied with the fast heavy steps of the man sprinting towards you. he's a good distance away, giving you more than enough time to ready yourself. his eyebrows are furrowed, fingers tightly gripping the sharp blade in his hand. he's approaching quickly, the ground thumping under his feet. you make your stance directly in front of the prince, ready to protect him, ready to keep him all to yourself.

while you're focused on the bastard coming straight for you, you barely make out the other pair of feet advancing from the other side.

"watch out!" a loud warning comes from down below you, the prince watching the scene unfold with exhilaration. this just might be his dream – he's the damsel in distress and you are his knight.

but to you, it seems that these poor men (including the prince himself) still underestimate you.

the yelling man meets his demise the second he's in your reach, a swift deep slash across his body stopping him in his tracks - he'll bleed to death in a matter of minutes. you think about how stupid they are for coming out here without armor or any other sort of protection. did they really think killing the prince would be so easy. however, you don't have time to contemplate the decisions of these silly little men because the other bandit is about to be on you.

almost stumbling over the prince's lanky legs, you realize that you're putting the prince way too close to the danger. you wouldn't want him to get hurt, now, would you? so, you take a bold step toward your attacker and pressuring him into making his move earlier than expected - which in turn, makes dodging it easier than expected. he swings his sword but you dodge it; he does it again - this time in the opposite direction but to no avail. you strike him once, twice – sending him staggering backwards before finishing him off with slash to his throat. he falls.

you're panting; a light sheen of sweat covers your forehead – a drop runs down the side of your face. the heavy armor and the sword are taking their toll but it's nothing new, you're used to this. thick dark blood drips from your blade - they're good friends by now, they often meet. the silver and red mix together, making a color you know all too well.

meanwhile, the prince sits on the soft grassy ground, observing the brutal scene. his hands shake from the adrenaline still pumping in his body; the excitement of the whole thing making him grow restless – desperate for some action. every day he sits in the castle, rows of words filling his vision – it's boring. he tries to bother suguru as much as he can, it's pretty much the only entertainment he has. sometimes he still messes around with the maids; aimlessly flirts with the younger women and cracks jokes with the older ones. but it's not enough. he needs this.

so, he scrambles to grab the dead man's sword from between his legs, drawing your attention away from the treeline, where three men still prowl.

"stand back, your highness." you try to command him.

"no way." he replies with a smile.

you reach out your hand, ready to push him aside - to usher him toward the other side of the clearing but a deep voice interrupts you.

"would you look at that, the boy wants to play too?" he chuckles darkly.

"bold of you to laugh while your friends lay dead before you." the prince sharply snaps back.

the man stays quiet.

you stare at him for a moment, raising a brow at his arrogance. you've heard that the prince has had some training and that he is supposedly good with a sword but to be this excited in a moment like this? he's something else, you surmise. he takes his place slightly behind you, ready to "watch your back".

in theory, you're still outnumbered even with the prince alongside you. the men are circling around you and it's hard to keep them all in your sights. two of them seem to be more focused on you, seemingly the only good idea they've had in a minute, and one is going straight for the prince.

they all make their move simultaneously, running wildy at the both of you. a loud clang — a swing against your tough armor; the heavy hit almost making you lose your balance. you collect yourself fast and take a quick left - successfully ducking away from the next blow. but the taking on two people at the same time is no small feat; the other bandit smacks you right in the middle of your face with the back of his sword, immediately flooding your senses with the tangy smell of blood. the warm liquid drips down to your lip and you can almost taste it. no, wait - you can taste it. a cut in your tongue, deep and painful, the result of it getting caught between your teeth. you've always thought it hard to bite your tongue and now, a mouthful of blood clogging your throat confirms that you won't be doing that again. you spit some of it out and bare your red stained teeth at the attackers.

the prince behind you is, surprisingly, holding his own very well. he's enjoying it. a cocky smile plays on his lips as he toys with the man. taking a step to the right and then to the left, as if checking his footwork.

"not bad, tough guy!" the prince laughs, making you glance over your shoulder but the movement in front of you brings your focus back to your guys. tired of playing around, you juke one of them and cut off the hand holding the blade; the man's wailing music to your ears. whilst he cries, you stab the remaining man right through his chest.

the prince and his dance partner are still going at it. the man swings his blade at the prince and he deflects it with ease. he keeps taking steps forward, forcing his opponent to back up; it's clear who's controlling the fight.

it's quite pleasing to watch; how smoothly he walks; with no shame - like he owns this clearing (he quite literally does). just like you, he knows he's already won this duel. it pleasing to watch how he raises his sword with a smile; how he knows there won't be a single consequence to anything he could possibly do to this man. he can have his time with him.

but there's a very distincitve difference between him and you. while the prince uses every possible chance to taunt and mess with his rival, preferring to toy with them - you would never. it's what really reminds you, who you're fighting alongside with. this is not some random drunk in a tavern or a even a skilled knight on a battlefield - it's the prince. a boy, who's used to playfighting instead of surviving.

your heavy armored boot sinks into the ground as you step between them, swiftly slicing your sword across his knees, making him fall down with a sob. you wipe the blood from your nose, slightly smearing it on your cheek.

"this isn't a game." you deadpan to the price. it's uncanny, how good he looks. no. scratch that. it's uncanny, how excited he still looks. a smirk stays glued to his lips, his cheeks are flushed and his eyes are just about to pop out of his head, pupils so dilated that the crystalline blue color of his eyes is almost entirely gone. his lips are parted and he's panting a little, resembling a puppy - ready to do anything just to go outside and play.

"why not? i haven't had this much fun since – i don't know, fucking forever, probably."

the two last bandits cry on either side of you but you pay them no mind.

"these men are trying to kill you, your highness." blood pools in your mouth and you spit it out, wiping your mouth once more.

"whatever." he laughs. he plays with the blade in his hand but his eyes are cemented to your bloodied lips.

"whatever?"

another loud cry comes from the man with no arm.

"there are constantly people trying to kill me. it's no big deal." he drops the sword, aware he won't be needing it any longer.

"must i remind you – you looked pretty terrified before i arrived, your highness."

the prince's mouth falls agape. how dare you mock him? and how dare you look so good while doing it?

just when the armless man opens his mouth to let out another annoying wail, you end him with a strong blow, putting him out of his well-deserved misery.

"and need i remind you, i am your prince." he stands next to you, eagerly trying to assert dominance but the jutted out lip almost makes you laugh.

"oh, my deepest apologies for offending your pride, my prince." you bow down, just enough to really get your teasing point across. you spit out another clump of blood. stepping to the very last dying man on the clearing, you swat away his dirty hand and slice his throat. you watch the red liquid flow out of the wound and down his body. you watch the light go from his eyes and you let out a deep sigh. closing your eyes, you lift your head up to the sky, momentarely basking in the warm sunlight.

the silvery heavy boots you're wearing are absolutely tearing into the back of your heel and the constant irony smell and taste is getting rather annoying. your tongue hurts and your fucking nose hurts and if you're being honest, your whole damn body hurts.

but the over exaggerating sigh emitting from the prince makes you take a peek at him. he's almost mimicking you - standing up with his head lolled back and eyes closed, he also seems to be enjoying the sun. just like you.

gives you time to just look at him, though. his hair still looks soft as ever, like he hadn't been fighting for his life a few minutes ago. you know, he takes care of his hair - he just seems the type to spend inexplicably long in front of his mirror making sure the white tufts of hair sit nicely. his pretty little prince attire is messed up, though. it's dirty and stained green in some places; it's wrinkled, deep lines running all over his body. but then, you spot a patch of red on his beautiful pale skin. the dirt and the wrinkles you can look past but blood on the kingdom's beloved prince is a bit too much. he can't go back to the castle like that, can't have his parents worrying. can't have the king and the queen worrying. so, you abandon your place in the sun and walk over to him. the prince barely has the time to open his eyes before you're roughly grasping his chin and smashing his cheeks together.

"you uh- have a little something here, your highness." you wet your thumb in your mouth and bring it to his cheek, gently wiping it clean.

he should be at least a little disgusted. he's the prince! how dare you touch him like that! with your own fingers; with a saliva coated thumb, wiping at his precious face and oh, his thoughts are running wild in his head. he wants more of that. he needs more of that. sure, it's dirty – he doesn't know where your hands have been. well, he kind of knows, considering he literally just watched you decimate six men. but your hand cradling his jaw is something he doesn't get that a whole lot.

sure, his mother kisses him on the cheek every once in a while and there are people helping him dress and even wash himself but it's just not it. he wants somebody to really touch him. like you're doing right now.

he's staring down at you, looking at the concentrated look on your scarred face. the close proximity is already clouding his head, the touch deprivation really kicking in. yeah, no, he's officially addicted.

when you finally release his face from your hold, his own hand rises to return the gesture but you harshly swat his hand away.

"none of that." you grunt as you for the nth time of the lovely afternoon, wipe your own blood off off your face. turning away from him a piece of clothing on the ground catches your eye.

"so you're allowed to be all bloody and muddy but i am not?" since your back is turned to him, you can't see his face but you're so sure you just heard him pout.

"because my appearance does not matter, your highness. all that matters is you being returned safely."

"right." his eyes bore into your figure, trying to take a mental picture of the cravings on the back of your armor. he doesn't recognise those either.

bending down you pick up the piece of cloth made out of the most expensive materials, surely, just for the prince. swiping your rough fingers over it, you marvel in the softness of it. it's completely and utterly foreign to you. not meant for you to touch.

"i do believe this is yours, your highess?" you turn back to him and reach out your arm, offering it to him. he nods but makes no attempt to retrieve it from you.

"shouldn't you put it on, your highness? doesn't it hurt?" you inquire, genuine curiosity evident in your voice.

"no, i want to keep looking at you without restrictions."

usually, you don't fall for such simple words. usually. but this really caught you off-guard. your breath hitches just a little as you stare back at him. he confidentally holds your gaze, no regret in his eyes. if anything, a glint of proudness shines in them. you try to brush it off.

taking a few steps, you simply push it into his hands and a bright smile plays on his lips as he pickets the blindfold. he's annoying, you conclude in your mind.

in the background you hear a quiet neigh, breaking the sweet little moment between the knight and the prince – your horse letting you know that it has returned to you.

"he's very well-trained." the prince muses.

"he is." you look at your companion with pride and beckon it closer. stopping right in front of you, his dark mane glistens under the sunlight. you give him a few pats before adjusting the saddle.

"unlike you, of course." it's a mumble, if anything. a quiet breath under your nose yet the prince hears it nonetheless - his eyebrows shooting up.

"excuse me?"

you look up at him.

"you are excused, your highness. 'though, i really oughta return you home now, i'm sure your parents are terribly worried." you gesture to the horse.

he scoffs. "ah yes, surely, the king is worried."

you hum knowingly. you've seen him waltzing around town a few times, a bitter old man; desperate to keep his claim on the land and even more desperately trying to build a clone out of his son. trying to open up his brain and stuff it with battelfield strategies while the boy himself is occupyied with actually taking care of his people. that much you know about him.

stepping back from the saddle, you motion for him to climb on but to your displeasure, the man steps back.

"wait-wait! i don't even know your name! you just saved the prince, i really should now your name." he says loudly. he speaks like he's not afraid to take up space. you envy him.

"that is irrelevant, your highness. now, please." you motion to the animal beside you again.

the prince takes another big step backward into the centre of the clearing. he does a spin, enjoying the warm sun and completely ignores the dead bodies all around him.

"satoru."

you look at him confused. the boy stands in the field of blood with a beaming smile and an outstreched hand. inviting you in. "my name."

"i know your name, your higness." you stare at him blankly. this is the prince? your kingdom will soon be in his hands? you're doomed.

"well, i want you to use it."

"absolutely not, your highness."

"i command you."

...

satoru's lips twitch upward – awaiting for your reply; thinking he's won already. clearly not enough people tell him no.

"i pretend i do not hear, your highness."

his shoulders fall, his lower lip jutting out. "but you have to!"

"i do not, your highness."

"isn't a prince's command sacred?" he skips over to you. "or something?"

"or something, your highness." you sigh, looking at him, silently begging for him to climb onto the horse and be on your way to the castle and then to the nearest bed. you reckon you deserve as muc —

"where do you think you're going?"

a voice - coming from the other side of the clearing. it's deep, like thunder. and there he is. the seventh man of the group and he's big. this is who the guys were probably betting on doing the all of the work. shit.

"hey, who are you?!" the prince shouts and you almost push him into the bush next to you.

"i see you've already dealt with my dear friends. that's a shame. one of 'em owed me a drink."

"and you'll be dealt with, too, if you don't stop right there!" you yell back at him, making him laugh.

"listen here, tin can," the humiliating nickname makes the prince snicker and you have half the mind to actually smack him. "i'm not here for you. 'm here for your pretty little boyfriend."

"he is not my boyfriend!"

"no? so you're not on a lovely stroll in the woods together, hm?" he's now in the middle of the field and the reality of this man's size is making you gulp. he's very obviously towering over the both of you and well, armor won't really do anything if your opponent can just crush your skull.

"we actually are!" the prince answers with a smug smile. and this being the final straw, you hit his shoulder with everything you've got, making him stumble backwards.

"how dare you?" he whispers. you try your utmost best to ignore him.

unsheathing your sword, you start making your way over to the man.

"good luck!"

"oh, fuck off."

the prince is sure he's in love. and since love is blind, he definitely does not see the real danger of the situation; he truly believes you will kill this man in one go and you'll be on your merry way home. he'll be swinging his legs while sitting behind you, whistling alongside the birds.

"what kind of a man doesn't fight his own fights?"

"the prince kind, you dumb fuck."

you meet him smack in the middle of the blood field. fingers gripping the handle of your blade; how does one fight a giant? you hold your ground, boots leaving a deep print into the mud. a flock of birds flies high above you, altering the way the sun bears down on you. it shines right into your eye and the second it's gone, the giant is a foot lenght away from you, angrily raising his sword – ready to make you bleed —

but then his mountain-like body moves a step to the side, a force pushing him aside and away from you.

the prince.

your eyes widen and you try to pull him away from the giant but you're too late – his heavy hand does it for you and prince goes flying back; falling back onto his ass, groaning and moaning. you lock eyes with the bandit boss and clang! — the sound of his rusted sword colliding with your polished one reverberates throughout the whole forest. the entirety of this man's strength is making your knees buckle and he chuckles at you. another clang and then another; one right after the other. you don't stop; with taking big steps you force him to lose his edge of towering over you. another clang but this time you spin youself from under the impact, pulling your sword upwards and scoring a hit on the giant. red blooms from under his shirt but he's unrelenting. a swish and a clang and yet another clang - and you manage to trip your rival; he bares his back to you and is punished for it immediately. a strong swing of your blade tears into the skin of his neck, the red now pouring out. he falls to his knees, facing the prince. a growl leaves your lips when you raise your sword for the last time for today - it smashes through the thick pinkish meat of his neck once more and with that, you've beheaded exactly two men today.

a clap.

a clap is what brings your eyes up from the lifeless body laying dead on the ground.

"knew you could do it!" the clapping echoes in your ears; another bloody ball of spit leaves your mouth and you wipe the remains with the back of your hand. "jus' needed a bit of help at first, no big deal."

the eye roll you give him only irks him on. "all offense, i did not need your help, your highness."

"i don't know, definitely looked like you did, though. the sun seemed to be doing a number on you."

a few fast paced steps toward him make the corners of his lip pull up even higher. fuck, that's really beginning to get on your nerves.

"get up."

"nuh-uh."

...

"w- what do you mean 'nuh-uh'? get up, i'm taking you home."

"has anyone ever mentioned that you're very bossy?"

"has anyone ever mentioned that you're very irritating?"

"yes, many times actually." he says it like he takes pride in knowing that.

"that is not a good thing, you know."

"lay here with me a moment."

"are you fucking serious?"

his answer is a smile. FUCK.

"get. up."

"tell me your name and i will."

"this isn't a negotiation. get up."

"c'moooon."

"get the fuck up."

"you look really good from this angle, you know."

in one quick motion, the tip of your blade touches his jaw - the cold steel tilting up his head. his adam's apple bobs and the sharp edge slides an inch on his glassy skin. he would rather give up one of his precious balls than to admit that you do look a bit scary like this. but just a bit. it's the quiet anger in your eyes; he can see that you're holding yourself back. if he were anyone else, he'd surely be dead already. you're clenching your teeth, your jaw tensing. it's hot.

your burning eyes bore into his icy blue ones and a short breath of air escapes your nose. it's the twinkle in his eyes that's really pissing you off now. you're getting tired; this isn't a game. the tip of your blade presses more into his skin, making him back down with a breathy chuckle. he thinks you won't hurt him.

oh, but you will.

the cold blade sinks half an inch into his neck, stopping when a drop of blood dribbles down it. the sun shines down on the warm liquid, making it appear lighter in tone than it actually is. it trickles down the prince's neck and straight onto his whiter than snow shirt. just a drop.

the prince holds his breath. a new kind of excitement running in his veins. blood rushing to... somewhere.

"up."

when all he does is blink up at you, you press the sharp blade deeper into the small wound, making him wince - a small ah-ahh leaving his pink lips.

"i will take you home now. understood," a final push. "your highness?"

the prince nods against your weapon; feeling his pants getting tighter and tigher by the second. he shakes his head to rid of these thoughts. you are his saviour, his angel, his knight. it is inappropriate.

to his surprise, you offer him a hand, which he so generously takes. the small and short-lived skin to skin contact making his crush only worse. pulling him up onto his feet he bumps into you, making him almost lose his balance if not for your hand in his. this is the same man from before? who was toying with his opponent? weird.

the prince clears his throat and refrains from commenting on the fact that your warm hand still sits in his. it takes you a second to realize and you pull away from him as if you just got burned. the prince wipes off the blood on his neck – the wound remaining a constant remainder of you. looking away, you sheathe your sword and step towards your awaiting horse. you also feel the need to clear your throat; a strange lump keeps forming in there and you don't really know why.

the prince follows you with quick steps and this time, to your surprise, he doesn't fight on the matter of going home. he lets you get on first and then with the help of your offered hand, he sits himself behind you – arms circling your armored waist. for safety purposes, of course.

with a shallow breath and a gentle shake of your head, you grab the reins – letting your noble steed know you're ready to go.

the ride to the castle is quiet (you figure it would be time for the prince's afternoon nap anyhow). birds chirp on the branches growing over your head, squirrels chase each other down the tree barks. the late afternoon sun is slowly starting to set, warming the back of the sleepy prince behind you. an unexpected weight rests itself against your shoulder and you try to glance at it – and it really is the sleepy prince. his eyes are closed, his long elegant white eyelashes lay against his skin. his cheek is completely smushed against your armor, both lips jutted out as if awaiting his fairytale kiss. he's kind of cute like this. when he's not being a dick.

a gentle smile graces your lips as you continue on your ride to the castle. upon arrival, you're met with the townsfolk's glares. understandable, considering you have a knocked out prince on your back.

"hey!" a smooth voice calls to you and you're met with another knight. he's beautiful.

he's stood by the castle gates, convering with another servant but seeing you he scraps his sentence and hastily makes his way over to you. he's holding his helm under his arm, his dark black hair gently blowing in the summery wind. his eyes are glued to the man behind you – you can see the worry swirling in them. and you can also see it disappear when he hears the prince snore. "is he sleeping?"

a sigh. "yeah."

"fuckin' christ. of course, he is." his eyes have now found yours and he's studying you. you're not from around here, at least not from this town. he reckons you're here for the money; he doesn't blame you. "thanks for bringing him back."

"sure."

"i'll get him inside and then i'll bring you the reward." he slightly shakes the snoring man but nothing.

your eyebrows shoot up. "the reward?"

"for bringing him back? the king put out a reward?" it's the knight's time to sigh. his big hands wrap around the prince's waist and he pulls him onto his shoulder. watching him getting manhandled like a doll is quite funny to you. the knight does the smallest jump in order to move the limp body into a more "comfortable" position before looking at you.

"oh... no need." you tell him.

"no? the king put it out, not me, you know."

"i know. just... buy the sleeping beauty a new fancy little outfit with it, why don't you?" you can't hide the small little smirk on your lips, imagining his reaction to your words.

the knight snorts quietly. somehow he already knows the prince will be asking about you the second he opens his eyes. he'll bombard the black haired knight with questions about you as if he'd know any better. he's already preparing himself for the headache he'll surely get.

you take one last look at the prince on the knight's shoulder and rein your horse away from the men, setting your mind on finding a place to stay.

this prince — this irritatingly beautiful boy with an even more irritating personality and an even more beautiful smile won't definitely haunt you for the rest of your life. he won't.

right?

[lovethoery]

pairing: nonidol!jeno + fem!reader

word count: 2.4k

warnings: smut! please read at your own risk ♡ also just very soft n fluffy for the most part. it gets a little mean at the end but it’s all consensual and discussed before hand!!! promise.

kinks: slight puppy play, mentions of pegging and strap-ons, dominant reader, submissive jeno, mommy kink, vaginal sex, established relationship, no protection (pls b safe!!), dirty talk, fingering, ♡ big dick jeno ♡, breeding (the reader says not to, but i promise they’ve talked it over and it’s actually okay), mention of pussy eating, name calling?, tummy bulging, drooling.

a/n: i have not been able to stop thinking abt subby puppy jeno... he’s just so good... im not a dom, but for jeno (and mark)? i’ll do anything. this is very much self-indulgent. no i’m not sorry.

jeno’s hips can’t help the way they fuck into your hand, eyes fluttering shut from the feeling. it’s just so good, and he hasn’t gotten his dick wet in months.

“and whose fault is that?” you coo, leaning forward to get in the boy’s face. jeno’s ears are a bright pink, chest and neck beginning to adopt the same hue. he gulps, looking down to where your fingers are wrapping around his length, working him up and down.

“m-mine...” he whispers, mouth parting open as his eyes flutter shut.

“unh-unh. eyes on me, mutt,” you order. jeno’s nothing if not obedient, though, and he opens his eyes quickly, whimpering. “do you wanna fuck mommy?” you can’t miss the way jeno’s eyes light up; it’d be impossible to miss it.

he’s pressed up against the headboard of your shared bed, shirt tossed in a corner somewhere. his jeans are unbuttoned and shoved down messily, boxers still confining most of your boyfriend’s cock. jeno looks an absolute wreck, and you can see the way the thought of being inside your pussy causes him to sink deeper into his fucked out state.

raising a hand, you brush the hair out of his face gently, jeno’s tongue brushing past his lips to wet them. your fingers itch to push past those pretty pillows and make him gag, but you figure you’d save it for later.

“yes or no, angel?���

jeno’s mouth opens wider, then closes. he looks around as if you’re baiting him, but then he speaks softly. “yes...”

“yes what, pup?” your eyes bore into his, daring him to look away when you’re practically dangling a bone in his face—something so sweet and savory. a chance he doesn’t get often.

“yes, mommy,” jeno breathes, eyes wide and borderline innocent. borderline only because you know what he’s really like—desperate, needy, trying everything in his power to keep from breaking any rules you may have set forth tonight. “please let me fuck you...”

the boy beneath you is practically vibrating from the prospect of being inside you once again. he hasn’t been allowed to fuck you as of late due to poor... technique.

“mmm...” you hum, straightening your back to sit up, taller than him; looking down on him like the mutt he is. “do you think you can do a good job? surely with how much mommy’s fucked you, you must’ve learned something, right, puppy?”

jeno whimpers, loud and high in his throat, head moving forward to rest his face in your chest. the boy mouths at your shirt, nuzzling into you. you can’t help but bring your hands to card through his hair, petting him gently. jeno is your most precious boy, after all. “oh, puppy... okay, okay... you can fuck mommy.”

moving off of his lap, you begin to pull your clothes from your body, only to be stopped by jeno. “let me, please...” always such a good boy, you think.

jeno’s fingers tremble when he brings them to the drawstring on your shorts, despite how deft and nimble they typically are. it makes you giggle, laying on your back to allow him to pull the shorts from your legs. he moves slowly, almost like he’s still unsure about it all. you coo, reaching for his wrist. you thumb over the protruding bone, reassuring in your gentle movements. he nods in understanding, spreading your your legs wide to play with your pussy, admiring the way it glistens with your essence.

a sigh slips from the both of you when jeno sinks in his middle finger, and you giggle again. jeno’s eyes snap towards you, making sure he’s doing alright before he’s wiggling the digit carefully. his thumb moves to hook onto your clit, drawing gentle circles. he’s working you up, just like you’d taught him to when you first started having sex.

you moan softly, jeno’s middle finger beginning to crook, searching for your g-spot. your back arches when he finds it, toes curling and the boy between your legs can’t help the way his tongue starts to loll out of his mouth, practically salivating at the display before him. he’s never seen something so beautiful in his entire life, and his cock throbs from where it sits half-way out of his underwear. a blurt of pre-cum spills from the tip and you grin lazily.

“and here i thought i was the only one who was wet... but you’re dripping over there, baby,” you breathe. your voice is pitched up just a little, head tilting back. you miss the way jeno’s eyes flutter shut at your words, embarrassment flooding his bones.

“can i add another finger?”

you nod at his question, praising him for being so good, remembering to ask before doing. you’ve taught him so well, how to be the best boy be can be, and jeno beams under it. he takes the permission granted to him and slips his ringer finger in next, scissoring them wide.

a whine falls from your lips, legs spreading wider as you clench around the digits. “fuck, that’s so good,” you moan, eyes moving to lock on jeno’s. you grin again, teeth on display and jeno whimpers, kissing your bent knee. moving your foot, you press it up against jeno’s cock, biting your lip in satisfaction when jeno’s hips jolt.

“hurry up, puppy. get mommy ready for your big cock so you can fuck her nice and good.”

jeno doesn’t need to be told twice, fingers beginning to speed up after adding a third, pumping in and out of you. you moan louder, head falling back against the mattress. the coil in your abdomen tightens, spring loaded and ready to snap when jeno’s thumb speeds up its circles on your bud. your hips buck up, whines falling from your mouth as you get closer and closer, falling from the edge when jeno takes initiative and gives you that fourth finger, cupping your pussy as he stretches you wide and makes you cum.

it’s with soft whines and pretty cries that you cum, back arched taut like a bowstring and jeno thinks he could cum untouched, just from the sight alone. he has, if he remembers correctly. but not right now. right now, jeno needs to be inside you.

without even thinking, jeno’s quick to pull his hands away, shoving his pants and briefs down enough for his cock to fall out, heavy and thick between his legs.

your eyes are hazy as you look up at him, still coming around from your orgasm when jeno shoves his length into you. your eyes widen, mouth falling open as he starts to thrust, eyes watering from the stretch. “f-fuck!” you cry, back arching again. it burns, but you’re too preoccupied with the pleasure that builds behind your belly button again.

four fingers are never enough when it comes to stretching you out, another reason why you prefer to fuck him, and not the other way around. that, and every time jeno gets his cock in you, it goes like this.

the boy between your legs is practically jackhammering into you, hips moving like a piston into you over and over again. his eyes are closed and his tongue hangs from his mouth, drool coating his chin. his eyes open and close, looking down at you. jeno’s so far into his own headspace, there’s nothing in his eyes but desire and a need to breed you.

“j-jen... puppy, you’ve gotta slow d-down—oh, my god...” you try, hand moving to press against his tummy. it’s damp with sweat, tensing over and over from a mix of exertion and undying pleasure. jeno, despite your pleas, shows no sign of slowing. it feels like he begins to move even faster, balls slapping against against you.

the room is filled with the sound of skin against skin, your pussy squelching loudly as it tries to adjust to jeno’s width.

he stops for a moment, moving the two of you around. jeno moves with your legs tossed over his forearms, pulling you closer and up into his lap. with your feet up in the air, you feel a little burn of shame, not used to being manhandled in this way, though you know in the back of your mind you could easily take back control if needed.

jeno seems to only get rougher, pushing back into with a one-track mind. you know that look when he looks at you again. he wants to cum inside you.

“no,” you warn, hand tangling into his hair and pulling roughly.

jeno leans forward with a cry, face burying itself in your chest, knees pressing to your chest. you groan with the stretch in your thighs and waist, but shake it off, pushing it to the back of your head when you feel soft lips pressing against the base of your throat. teeth scrape across your skin, biting down.

with your legs locked up between your bodies, you have no way of pushing jeno away. it’s not that you don’t want him to cum inside, you do. it’s just... he doesn’t deserve it for the way he broke your rules.

“m-mommy!” jeno’s voice is high pitched, breaking on the end as his thrusts slow, but grow rougher. you can feel the slick between your legs, spilling down over your ass and onto the blankets beneath you. “so g-good... wanna breed you...”

your mouth opens when jeno readjusts, cock pressing up against your walls in the best way possible, pressing up against your sweet spot every single time. your toes curl where they’re propped up in the air, your boyfriend’s body preventing you from lowering them. a cramp starts to pull somewhere in your left thigh, and you contemplate telling jeno as much but when he cries out into your chest, you don’t have it in you to stop him.

“you better pull out, mutt!” you warn him, fingers wrapping around broad shoulders and digging into his skin. pretty crescent moon shapes litter his back, deep, red scratching lining his tanned skin.

your words seem to only spur jeno on, hips picking up pace as he becomes focused on only his pleasure.

“stupid dog,” is all you’re able to get out before jeno’s hips are stuttering, cock bottoming out. the tip kisses your cervix, cum painting your walls, and your own body convulses at the feeling. you moan into the air of your bedroom, pulling jeno even closer. your tummy bulges with his cock, and jeno just has to press a clammy hand against it.

jeno stays buried deep inside you for a moment, catching his breath. he’s hiccupping a little as he tries to come back to earth from whatever pleasure-induced cloud he’d been on. your fingers move to bring jeno’s face to yours, lips pressing against one another. jeno’s tongue finds refuge against your own, and you moan into his mouth. it’s sloppy and messy, the total opposite of the jeno everyone else gets to see and it makes you clench around his softening cock.

when he pulls away, you hum, taking in the sight before you. jeno’s eyes are wide, pupils blown as he regards you like you’re the only source of water for miles and he hasn’t had a drop in days. his tongue hangs out of his mouth, panting like a dog, and his chin is covered in drool. your fingers work to clean his face, wiping against the bedsheets once you’ve done your best to work the spit away.

you gasp as jeno’s cock slips free, soft between his legs.

“hi, baby,” you whisper, a grin on your lips as you work him back to you. “can you speak yet?”

jeno swallows, eyes blinking slowly as his mouth works to form words.

“shh... you don’t have to try if you can’t. just nod if you’re feeling good enough to keep going.”

the boy between your legs keens softly, nodding a soft yes. you card your fingers through sweat-dampened hair, cooing gently, trying to show as much affection to the boy as you can before you’re yanking on the strands, growling under your breath.

jeno whines in pain, but you can feel his dick twitching against your ass.

“stupid fucking dog. you can’t listen, can you?” your voice is biting, though you mean no malice. “first, you think of only yourself when i so graciously let you fuck me. remember last time, mutt? remember why mommy hasn’t let you fuck her in months? because you do shit like this.” with another tug, jeno’s groaning, mouth opening again. your free fingers work into his pretty, swollen mouth, pressing down on his tongue. your thumb hooks under his jaw, in the divot behind his chin. forcing his mouth open, you maneuver his head so he’s unable to look anywhere but you. “and then, to make it worse, mommy told you not to cum inside her. but what do you do? you cum inside her like a stupid mutt. do you know what will happen if mommy gets pregnant?”

jeno’s eyes are filling with tears, and for a moment you become worried, but you know jeno’s smart enough to use his safe word. he has before, even when he’s gone so far into his puppy space that he’s gotten nonverbal.

“if mommy gets pregnant with your puppies,” you whisper, bringing him in close. he swallows as best as he can around your fingers. “then mommy can’t fuck you like the stupid bitch you are. and you will never get to come close to my pussy. do you understand me, mutt?”

the boy trapped between your legs nods quickly, drool spilling from around your fingers once more. you hum, digging a heel into jeno’s lower back before releasing him. jeno slumps against your chest once your legs are free as well, and your fingers move from his mouth to pet through his locks again.

“you’re lucky you’re so cute, nono.” your voice is breathy, a soft giggle in it somewhere as jeno rests his chin on your chest, looking up at you with big eyes. “god, i can’t even be mad at you.” you’re pouting down at him, moving to adjust your position. turning around, you rest up against the headboard, legs spread wide. jeno’s cum drips from your fluttering walls, between your cheek, and onto the bed sheet beneath you.

“if you wanna make it up to me, you’ll come over here and use that pretty mouth of yours to make me cum.”

jeno’s eyes light up once more and he’s immediately crawling between your legs, ready to give you the world and then some.

[bloomyagi]

beautiful, beloved, mine (m)

summary: you set him ablaze. he can only hope you like watching him burn for you. alternatively: this love for you is consuming him, and it all comes out in a badly vomited confession after he corners you at a gala.

pairings: shouto todoroki x f!reader

genre: pro heroes au, characters are aged up 20+

warnings: smut, dry humping, shouto comes in his pants, sub!shouto, he’s a good boi for you, he loves you very much n wants to be your baby

length: 2,447

notes: can u tell how much i love him pls -

.

.

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“Can I be yours?”

Shouto Todoroki, ranked third pro-hero in Japan, has his strong arms braced around your head. In all your years of friendship, he has never been anything but exceedingly polite. He is well-behaved, thoughtful and sharp. He is guarded, though not intentionally, not anymore—it is reflex, a shield he has never really learned to lower. A reminder of his childhood.

You think he’s drunk. He must be, beautiful dual-coloured locks dishevelled, black button-up half-open and exposing his gorgeous collarbone. You watch, unwittingly, as a bead of sweat trickle down his neck. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, biceps flexing.

The dimmed lighting unfairly accosts you with his devastatingly handsome features and muscular body. And his eyes. His heterochromatic eyes are alight with something fierce and intense. They are also clear, glowing, almost, in the dark.

The two of you are somehow on the balcony, shut away from the rest of the world, the bass and the sounds of life fading in your little bubble until all you can hear is the blood rushing in your ears, the warmth of his breath, the heat of skin and the fluttering of your heart in your throat. The cement wall digs into your back.

No, you correct yourself. He isn’t drunk. He’s barely tipsy. He doesn’t like to drink, rarely acquiesces to Kirishima’s insistence of shots.

He doesn’t smell like alcohol. His scent has always been calming, detectable under the thin layer expensive cologne he uses—he doesn’t like perfumed smells either, only uses it on nights like these, when he’s obliged to look the part—that fresh, cool scent. Of clean sheets, laundry detergent.

Still, this is out of character. Todoroki has never once crossed a line with you, with anyone. He’s quiet, reserved, though he smiles more now, the forming dimples in the corner of his eyes a living testament to his character growth. He treats others fairly. He is not unkind, honest and straight-forward. He is many things, and with the way he’s gazing down at you now, you are suddenly reminded of Midoriya’s hushed remarks earlier.

“You can’t see it, but Todoroki-kun treats you differently. He thinks about you, what you’d like and what you like. He cares about you so he’s careful around you. He wants to cherish you. He’s cold because he uncertain. He doesn’t know what to do. This is all new to him.”

“What is?”

The number one pro-hero had looked at you strangely. “Being in love.”

Midoriya is indisputably Todoroki’s best friend. Still, his actions are baffling. Why you? Why now? No, you couldn’t see it at all.

“Todoroki, are you drunk?”

“No. Though I required a little … liquid courage, as they say,” he rasps. He’s so close. His voice, so deep and husky, has you biting your lower lip. His gaze falls immediately.

He doesn’t touch you. The way his arms flex, hands clenching and unclenching, and his stiff posture tells you he wants to. He’s visibly restraining himself. Waiting, watching. Hoping.

“You never … why me?” You say softly.

“I could not. I wanted to, so badly. I have always wanted you. I always thought it was impossible for someone like me—to find someone I would want to share my life with, given my upbringing and dysfunctional family. But then things changed, got better, and then I met you.” He takes a shaky breath.

“I found wordless comfort in your mere presence. I found I could be emboldened, empowered, changed by your words. Every day I wondered how I could be worthy of you—if I could ever be worthy of you. Then I realized it was you … it would not matter to you, so long as I was honest with who I was. That is just the kind of person you are …” He shuts his eyes. His lashes are so long, you note absently.

“I am touched by your existence … I find joy in your spirit, yearning for your embrace, for the heat of your skin pressed against mine, I crave it … these foreign desires, they elicit something dark within myself,” he continues, breathing a little ragged now.

“This need, this desperation, like fire spreading in my veins, uncontrollable and hungry … I feel restless, itching for something, someone … Now I finally understand. I feel like I want to—to devour you. It is no longer enough, seeing you as I do, being as we are, mere friends … I want more, need more. With this desire to monopolize, I fear I have become … insatiable,” he trails off, turning his face to the side in shame.

Oh. Shouto Todoroki is in love with you, you realize with a jolt. He longs for you. For your companionship, your wit, your soul and your body. Your heart.

You reach up with a trembling hand to touch his jaw, guiding him until he looked at you once more. He doesn’t resist, pliant and eager as he leans into your hold.

“Only if I can be yours in return,” you say.

He lurches forward, knees nearly giving out as he slumps in your arms. “Oh, thank god, I … I was anxious I would have ruined everything. I knew it was unlikely they would be reciprocated, but I—I had to try,” he gasps. “This desire, it was consuming me.”

“Todoroki …” You thumb his cheekbone. He sighs faintly, body curving over yours as he presses close. “Call me Shouto, please …”

“Shouto.” He makes a strangled noise.

“Again. Please. You must understand, I have longed for this for so long …” He pleads shyly.

“Shouto,” you whisper, stroking his cheek. He’s so unexpectedly adorable. So, so adorable.

“My apologies, darling. I know I’m taking liberties, but I’m weak … I’m not strong enough to resist such temptation. Not while you are here, in front of me like nights when I dared to dream… So beautiful.” He nuzzles your palm.

You flush at his term of endearment, at the rawness of his tone. He has laid himself bare, singing his truth like a Shakespeare sonnet.

“You woo me like you’re waxing poetry … does this often work with others?” You murmur. You think you’re in real danger of melting.

His eyes fly open in alarm. “No. Never. It has only ever been you. I speak only from the heart, I have never—never done this before, am I explaining myself poorly? I am often told my words could use some more tact …”

Your heart swells.

“I’m just teasing, Shouto,” you say softly, combing a hand through his locks apologetically. “Your words are beautiful, I’m touched, truly.”

He relaxes, curling closer in your embrace.

“You don’t know … how I dream of building a home with you, of sharing all my firsts with you, cooking and setting the table with you … breakfast after long nights, filling the space between us with laughter and joy. Sleeping next to you,” he slurs. And then he goes on plainly, “How I fist myself every night thinking of the swell of your hips, the curl of your lips, your sweet, enthralling scent …”

You inhale sharply. Part of you is entirely taken back by the dual-haired hero’s use of uncharacteristically vulgar descriptions. His words drip over you like a honeyed aphrodisiac. Sweet and addictive.

“May I?” He draws closer, hands releasing you to brace against the concrete behind. Your body shivers involuntarily, missing the heat of his palms immediately.

“Yes,” you whisper.

Shouto dips his head, beautiful heterochromatic eyes watching you carefully for any sign of hesitation or indication you wanted to stop. Ever the gentleman.

This is who he is, you realize. Respectful of your boundaries, honest and, with you, gentle. He eyes flutter close when his lips touch yours. They’re warm, sweet with a hint of the alcohol he consumed earlier. Your fingers bury themselves in his locks, the kiss unhurried, savouring each moment.

Then you open your mouth, tongue touching his. And Shouto falters. He groans throatily, your nose tickling at the scent of ash. Ah. He’s losing control. He jerks away quickly, right hand enclosing over his left.

“Don’t tempt me,” he rasps, blush rising.

You snag the rumpled collar of his shirt, pulling him close. “Kiss me again.”

And when you guide his hands over your hips, he grips them tightly and crushes his mouth against yours, kissing you hard. Spit runs down your chins, messy and sensual.

Something hard presses against your inner thigh. You push his legs apart and shove your leg in between. He chokes, eyes rolling back.

“Ngh—!” He gasps. “More—hngg—please!”

You pull back to survey him. He chases after you, lips slick and swollen.

“Shouto. You like this?”

He pauses, sucking in a breath sharply, eyes flickering. And then—

“Yes,” he whispers, a whisp of flame flaring on his left.

Your core clenches over nothing at his needy, humiliated tone.

“I like this too,” you confess, trailing a hand over the ridges of his abdomen, fascinated by the way the muscles clench.

Shouto mewls, chest thrusting forward when you pinch his nipples experimentally through the cotton. “Ah—ughh—yes!”

“Can you come like this?” You wonder absently as you twist his perked nubs harshly. He moans brokenly, hips jerking.

“I—I d-don’t­—kno—hah,” he pants, eyes half-lidded as he struggles to focus. Pleasure clouds his senses, head fuzzy and vision hazy.

“Can you get off here, like this?” You ask softly. “I want to see you come undone.”

Shouto blinks blearily at you, nodding eagerly. “Hng—yes, wanna be good for you,” he slurs. Oh. My. If you weren’t dripping before, you certainly are now.

He stumbles a little as you push him against the wall, switching positions. He’s barely standing at this point, leaning heavily against the cement as he gazes up at you with glazed eyes. He looks utterly fucked out and utterly delectable.

You undo the remainder of his buttons, holding him back firmly when he whines, pawing at the fabric, wanting to rip it off.

“We still have to walk out of here,” you remind him, giggling. His only blinks at you blankly as if to say and? Too gone to think of the consequences.

“This view is reserved for my eyes only,” you murmur, nails scraping against his nipples. He gasps, back arcing. “Yes, yes!” He agrees mindlessly.

He grinds against your thigh desperately, the weight of his cock heavy and hot. He throbs at every touch.

“Kiss—kiss, please,” he whines, reaching for you. You oblige, internally fawning over his cuteness.

His hips move faster, chasing release as he moans and keens into your mouth.

He parts from you with a gasp and wet shlick. “Feels so good—sho good—hngg,” he babbles. His asymmetric temperatures intensify, the heat of his left searing you and the chill of the right piercing you.

“Oh—I’m—I’m c-cu—” he cries out, gripping you tightly as he fucks himself against your thigh urgently. You push your leg against him harder, nails digging into his stomach.

“Come for me Sho,” you murmur, biting his lower lip. His mouth parts in a silent wail, head tossing as his eyes roll. His body shudders, something warm seeping into the fabric of your jeans.

With a strangled groan, he sags against you, exhausted and spent. You stroke his hair soothingly, brushing back the sweaty locks and peppering chaste kisses over his face as he comes down slowly.

Faintly, you register someone calling your name.

“Oh, Midoriya. Over here.”

Shouto is too out of it, still coming down from his high, his soft moans tickling your ear

“Oh, there you are! Have you seen Todoroki-kun? I—oh!” He squeaks loudly, spinning on his heel immediately and covering his reddening face.

What a sight the two of you must be. A perfectly debauched Shouto, shirt falling over his broad shoulders, the fabric clinging to his glistening skin, raised lines over his bare chest that appear angrier in the darkened lighting, slumped over you, body trembling from the aftershocks of his orgasm.

The One for All user pales when he spots the noticeable burn the size of a palm on the wall behind your head.

“Uh—neverminditwasn’timportanthahahaohsomeone’scallingmegottagobye!” Midoriya practically screams in your face before bolting from the scene in the next beat.

Shouto manages a tired chuckle as you blink in the wake of his dust.

“You’re surprisingly shameless,” you remark when you turn back to him.

His wry smile slips, letting out a weak mewl when you squeeze his cock over his slacks teasingly. He’s already chubbing up, hips rolling slowly against your touch.

“I told you, didn’t I? I’m insatiable when it comes to you, darling,” he murmurs, cheeks dusting.

“Then let’s continue,” you say, helping him stand. He valiantly tries to salvage whatever is left of his shirt, but it’s hopeless. He gives up, letting it drift apart, sculpted abdomen and chest in full view.

“Hmm. I quite like this view,” your palm rests on his stomach, smiling when he jolts at your warmth.

“My place or yours?” He breathes, pulling you flush to him.

“Yours, I think. I’ve been meaning to try out your new jacuzzi,” you rest your cheek against his chest, tracing nonsensical patterns on his pec. Goosebumps rise on his skin, and you can hear the rapid fluttering of his pulse. He’s—nervous?

“I built it for you,” he confesses, burying his face into your hair. “After you mentioned how much you wanted to try one, I thought—well, I don’t know what I thought. I only know that I went out the next day to hire a contractor and expand my bathroom. I suppose part of me nurtured a hope I’d one day pluck enough courage to ask you to come over and give it a try …”

You pull away, looking up at him in disbelief. He laughs dryly at your expression.

“Yes. I know. It sounds as irrational as it felt. I still haven’t used it yet.”

“Then …,” you hesitate. And then you say shyly, “Then if you’d like … we could try it today? Together?”

“I … yes, I’d love that,” Shouto swallows thickly.

You take his hand as the two of you start to make your way back. He squeezes your hand once.

“Let’s go home,” you say softly. The corner of his heterochromatic eyes crinkle, lips curling into a gentle beam. He looks radiant, beauty amplified by his dishevelled and unkept state. He leans down to kiss the corner of your mouth.

“Yes,” he says. “Let’s.”

[1kook]

skirt chasers - drabble iii

this a skirt chasers drabble in case u couldn't tell uhhh here’s i and ii lol

summary; “I think the alcohol broke my amygdala. Your epidermis looks pretty today— did you use that toner I told you about?” warnings; alcohol mention, tit sucking, unprotected sex, use of the pull out method, uhh making out??? ratings; mature (18+) misc; educational abolitionist!jungkook, drunk jk, mentions of throwing up lol, jk is an anatomy frEAK, more skirts, more jk has questionable kinks wc; like barely 2k

notes; i wrote this in like 40 mins bc i couldn't stop thinking about STIMBO jk from skirt chasers and how cool he is enjoy xxxx also i barely rmr shit from anatomy bc it was the worst course of my life so pls bear with me

His first mistake is getting drinks with the boys. You like to think you know your boyfriend pretty well, know what he’s good at, where he excels, where he thrives, and well. Drinking doesn’t rank too high on the list.

Jimin calls a little past midnight. “Kook’s on the table,” he slurs into the phone, too loud and too sloppy for a Wednesday night phonecall.

“Ha?” you mumble back, rubbing your eyes until you see stars. The room is dark, practically spinning from how out of it you are. Chaeyoung is dead asleep in her room, so even whispering feels like a crime. “Where are you guys?”

Some bar on the south side of town, that strip where all the newly turned twenty-one year olds go to get wasted. Jungkook’s supposed to be studying for some big exam he has on Friday— at least, that’s what he told you —so it takes a few minutes of convincing on Jimin’s part until you’re shrugging your coat on, blindly navigating through your apartment for your keys and wallet. You briefly consider taking an Uber, but ultimately decide you’d rather get stabbed to death on a public bus so at least your family can sue the city afterwards.

Jungkook is indeed on the table, except the table has long since tipped over. So now he’s just sprawled across some dirty bar floor, puppy-soft head of curls spilling over his forehead. He’s so cute, so adorable. You want to kill him. “Up,” you command, channeling the strength of twelve football players to haul your beefy boyfriend off the ground.

“Baby,” he beams, looking at you but not actually looking at you. “I think the alcohol broke my amygdala. Your epidermis looks pretty today— did you use that toner I told you about?”

You don’t even know what that means, can’t even question him, because then Jin is angrily yelling at you to cover his tab. You pay with a stiff middle finger, flail the three dollars in your wallet at him, before sweeping away your poor damsel in distress. “You’re supposed to be studying,” you huff, can’t even be mad when he stops to throw up in a bush outside the bar. You’re so embarrassed, pretend you don’t know him as you pull up the bus times on your phone.

He’s huffy by the time you get on the bus, sniffling against your neck as he cries about his common hepatic portal vein thing— you don’t fucking know.

Chaeyoung isn’t too impressed with you when you bring him home, dump him on the couch while she steals your AirPods from your room. “Explain yourself,” you demand, and his head rolls back.

“I hate school,” he complains, slaps a hand down against his forehead. You’re certain he’s concussed himself this time. Then he’s bending over, head held between his hands. “Wanna cry.”

You sigh, kneeling in front of him. “You’re almost done,” you comfort him, hand on the back of his head. He’s so sweaty, and smells like all his friends colognes at the same time. “You’re smart, baby, you can do this.”

Your words have the opposite effect, because then he’s rocking forward childishly, nearly rams your skulls together and kills you. He’s reached the point of his insobriety where he’s too sad and huffy to think, sadly leaning against your shoulder as if that’ll somehow solve all his problems. You doubt it will, but there’s really nothing much you can when Jungkook reaches this point, so you settle on softly patting the back of his head until the fool is fucking snoring against you.

Chaeyoung blesses you with her divine retribution the next morning by using up the last of your body wash, and then you’re left to deal with a hungover Jungkook on a Thursday morning. You’re pretty sure he had a class that morning, but he wakes up too late for you to even try to convince him to still go, and then he’s moping on your couch in last night’s clothes. You’re getting ready for your internship, blouse half buttoned, pencil skirt wiggled up to your waist.

“Abolish exams,” he mutters, numbly staring at the ceiling as you wipe his face with a cleansing towelette. He doesn’t seem remotely interested in the shower or the pancakes you made, which lets you know this is a much more serious issue than just a drunken episode. “Aren’t they stupid?” You nod. “Sure, test me on every damn thing we’re learning right now as if science isn’t always changing and I’ll have to keep learning anyway.”

He looks over at you, under-eye bags absolutely horrendous. “Tests are stupid,” you agree, and it seems to be exactly what he wants to hear as he sinks into your arms, face buried in your chest. “Too stupid for smarty-pants Jeon Jungkook.”

Jungkook groans, flops over you on the couch all smelly and gross. “They test you for memorization and not comprehension,” he adds, finally wiggling out of his stinky clothes.

With Jungkook, you can never tell where things are going. One minute he’s cursing the education system and the next he’s kissing along your neck in his rambling fury. “As if I these materials will somehow become nonexistent once I’m working,” he huffs, hands on your thighs. Your breath hitches in your throat, fingers digging into his biceps as he mindlessly kisses down the valley between your breasts. “Shit’s so fucking stupid,” he spits, bunching your skirt around your waist.

“Jeon—“

“I’m just trying to be a fuckin’ pediatrician, for fuck’s sake,” he growls, hastily undoes the front buttons on your blouse. Your black bra comes into view, heart pounding in your chest as Jungkook makes quick work of reaching behind and undoing it, pushing it away, and cupping your breasts in his palms. He guides one of your legs around his waist, tucks it around him as he gets to work raining down kisses on your tits. “So pretty, doll,” he murmurs, pretty pink lips leaving smooches down your chest.

You bite down on your lip, watch through hazy eyes as those big doe eyes flick up at you, tongue swirling around your nipple. “N— Not tired anymore?” you pant, hands in his hair. It’s still dry and knotted from last night’s adventures, but you don’t mind. Not when Jungkook’s hard cock is flush against your thigh.

“Nah,” he confirms, rolling his hips forward against your core. Oh he was horny horny this morning. Or was he angry horny? You don’t care, either way you were winning. “I serenaded you last night, y’know?”

You snort, but it morphs into a whimper when he captures your rock hard nipple between his perfect teeth. “Not a serenade,” you whimper, fingernails running along his scalp, “if I’m not there.”

Jungkook leans back, lets you breathe for a second as he unbuckles the front of his pants, jeans pulled down around his thighs. And of course he’s hard as fuck by now; this was Jeon Jungkook you were dealing with. He could get it up and going in two seconds flat at the mere sight of your collarbones. “You were there,” he insists, capturing your hand in his all romantic like until you’re flustered and shaking him off. He levels you with a cheesy grin, presses your palm against his chest. “Here.”

You gag. “That’s disgusting.”

Jungkook laughs, all squeaky and airy because he’s never given a fuck about looking cool in front of you. His next words only prove your point. “Why? Don’t like being nestled against my left lung and esophagus, all sexy like?”

You roll your eyes, tug your panties aside to give him a full view of what his dorky anatomical talk has done to you. “Dick me down or go away,” you say, pointer finger nudging his chin up when he stares too long

He snaps his teeth at you, almost bites your finger, the fuckin’ weirdo. “Sassy today,” he teases, presses the tip of his cock against you. Both of you groan, watch as he glides himself up and down your folds, angry mushroom head pushing against your clit. “Always so wet for me,” he mumbles shakily, eyes zeroed in on your wet folds and how slick they feel against him. “Didn’t stretch you out again.”

“Yo— You’re mean about that anyway,” you pant, pulling him closer by those firm ass cheeks of his. “I can tell when you’re using me as a reference model.”

Jungkook gasps as if he’s genuinely scandalized by your claim, follows your wordless command and finally lines himself up with your quivering entrance. “I’m a hands-on learner,” he offers, his cheeky smile still on his face until he finally sinks into you and his features twist up all pretty. “Your pussy’s just so pretty, baby,” he grunts, hand on your hip.

Your face feels warm, from the pleasure that rolls over your body and the vulgarity of his words. “Shush now,” you say, try to sound strict and in command, but he’s got his other hand cupping your jaw, looking at you like you’re a goddess and not some dorky college student in their even dorkier internship uniform.

“Temptress,” he mumbles, pushes past your clenching lips until he’s flush against you, your walls spasming around his cock because he just feels so good. “Tried to sneak past me in that tiny skirt.” He draws back, lets his swollen head catch at the entrance before sliding back in, pace slow and sensual, too intimate for some random Thursday morning. “Little doll just needs to be fucked in the morning, doesn’t she?” A pitiful whimper catches in your throat, eyes rolling to the back of your head with every glide of his dick back inside of you.

“N- Not my fault you have naughty eyes,” you whimper, hand coming up to bite at your knuckles as Jungkook continues to fuck you so sweetly. “Fuck.”

Jungkook ducks over you, wavy hair tickling your forehead as his hot breath fans across you. Smells like the mouthwash you made him take and hints of last night’s alcohol. “Can’t help it,” he husks, capturing your lips in his. Sloppy and wet, tongue clashing with yours as he guides you along, hips slowing to rhythmic ruts that have you moaning after each roll.

A few drawn-out thrusts later and you’re coming, body so sensitive this early in the morning, and it certainly doesn’t help that Jungkook looks like that (sweaty and worn, dark eyes watching you writhe beneath him). Surprisingly, it takes him a few more rushed thrusts before he follows, barely managing to pull out in time before his sparkling cum is splattering over your tummy and the skirt bunched around it. “No,” you whine, melting into the couch. “Jeon, this is my only one,” you complain, rubbing a hand over your eyes as if that’ll somehow make your legs work again enough to push him off.

Jungkook says nothing as he tucks himself back into his boxers, chest heaving from exertion as he crashes back onto the couch. “Liar,” he responds after a moment, out of breath and half asleep again. He’s still technically hungover. Hand lazily drawing circles on your knee as you sit up, wiggling your skirt back down. He gives you this indecipherable look. “I hid the other one under your dresser.”

You smack his arm. “Why the hell would you—“

He tackles you back into the couch, presses the stain into your skirt. It must feel gross against his naked tummy, but Jungkook doesn’t seem to care. “Makes me too horny,” he announces, pout pressed against your neck. “I had a teacher fantasy the other day. Did I tell you?” You roll your eyes, resigning yourself to this new life squashed beneath your boyfriend. “You were my high school anatomy teacher and I failed, so you made me stay after school for supplemental lessons—“

“That’s an abuse of power,” you point out, back to carding your hands through his now sweaty and greasy hair. “And you would never fail an anatomy class, that’s literally your comfort area of study.”

“Listen,” he stresses, lifts his head until he’s peering at you with these humongous Bambi eyes. “You spanked me and—“

“Go get my skirt.”

Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[bittersweetmorality]

heyyyyyy uhhhhh could i get like a sub hawks fic pretty please 🙏

literally kisses u . thank u . i have been waiting for a req like this thank u bae <3333 i have been very h word for hawks </3 thank u for letting me be self indulgent

it is a little rushed towards the end i am so sorry pls forgive me anon </3

shift in dynamic (sub!hawks x fem!bodied reader)

☾ genre: smut, 18+

☾ pairing: hawks x fem!bodied reader (no pronouns explicitly specified, but hawks calls reader “mommy”)

☾ warnings: *INHAAALE* PWP, sub!hawks (obviously), oral (f!receiving), dirty talk (m!receiving), praise..... so much praise, edging, PEGHAWKS2021‼️ (pegging), slight overstim????, a leetol bit of aftercare, kind of self indulgent idk i love he </3, (HARDLY EDITED)

☾ w/c: 3k !!

you don’t know how long you’ve been teasing him, been letting yourself get into innocent but compromising positions with him.

bending over to pick up a “dropped” pen in that skirt he oh so loved to see you in, going to “change” only to come back out with your outfit being no different whatsoever except with the new addition of his favorite thigh-highs of yours.

he was so sick of your teasing, and honestly? you lost track of time from how long you had it going on.

“angel... you’re hardly being subtle, you know~” he mused from his position on the bed.

you turn and smirk at him from the doorway, “who said i was trying to be subtle in the slightest?”

you slowly began making your way to him, watching closely at the way he drank in your figure. his eyes darted back and forth from your thigh-high clad legs, to the exposed section just under your skirt, to your breasts that were straining against the provocative, tight shirt you decided to wear this evening.

you wanted to give him everything he ever dreamed of right now, to utterly indulge him-- make him believe he would be in control.

letting him sit up for you to straddle his lap, letting him dominate your kisses. anything he initiated, you complied with. his hands began softly grazing your exposed thighs, trailing upwards-- higher and higher-- you purposely let out soft whimper.

you felt a smirk tug at the corners of his lips, “hm...? you like that, angel?” you felt his hot breath in your mouth.

“yes... oh yes... please kei...” your pleas a mere whisper, “please fuck me...”

he groaned deeply in response, diving back in to taste your lips again— a hungry clash of teeth and tongue from his impatience. you could feel his arousal despite the confines of his clothes already, him grinding against your hips with no shame.

oh, you loved riling him up, especially like this. getting him to get all hot and bothered, going this far to give him a sense that he’ll be in control...

only for you to shatter your façade instantaneously, pushing him down by his shoulders and pinning his roaming hands above his head-- trapping his legs in between yours and looking down at him triumphantly.

“angel?” he sputtered, looking up at you with wide eyes, “w-what’s with the quick shift, huh?” he quickly attempted to play it off as if he still had a grip on his bearings.

a smirk splayed your features in response. you said nothing, but let your gaze flicker back and forth from his swollen lips to his dark eyes.

“w-weren’t you just begging me to fuck you a minute ago, hm?~” he said.

even when he was rendered completely immobile by you, of course he was going to give you his sly tone, his shit-eating grin as he “tried” to keep control of the situation.

oh, but you knew why he did that.

just ‘cause he knew that it would rile you up...

just ‘cause he knew that it would make you have your way with him.

“oh, i was begging you to fuck me? really...” you trailed off, moving your gaze downward, and cupping his bulge harshly with no warning. he hissed in response, sucking his bottom lip in between his teeth, “sweetheart... i assure you, i’m not going to be the one who’s begging tonight.”

“y-yeah right,” he chuckled, “like i’ll believe that. just give it a few minutes, darling. you’ll realize that-- a-ah...”

you cut him off by moving your palm against him, harshly rubbing against his growing erection with no build up. the friction of your hand mixed with the rough material of his jeans sent an immense amount of stimulation right off the bat, catching him completely off guard.

“hm? speak up honey, i can’t hear you,” you leaned down and softly nibbled his ear as you whisper against him.

“f-fuck...” his eyes are now screwed shut as he revels in the friction you’re providing him, your speed ever increasing to render him unable to utter a word.

“oh, well that’s not what you said before, now is it?” you began littering kisses on his jaw, his neck, collarbone... biting occasionally, because you knew just how much he wanted to be marked by you.

you continued to rub him, keigo’s moans getting louder and higher in pitch. he was close.

already.

you giggled against him, the vibrations reverberating against his skin, “oh, you were also so sensitive, right kei? are you gonna cum?”

“y-yes...” he said, utterly breathless.

“do you wanna cum?”

he shook his head fervently.

“baby... use your words...” you gently remind.

“... no. please, not now...”

“mmm... good boy~”

his whines picked up at the pet name, his jean-clad hips beginning to grind against your palm.

you quickly ripped your hand away with a scoff, and keigo let out needy whine, the sound sending a shockwave straight to your cunt.

god, you’ve always loved his voice.

“ah-ah~” you tut, “didn’t you say you didn’t want to cum now, baby boy? do you really want to cum in your jeans like a teenage virgin?”

he shakily exhaled, “... n-no...”

“good. you’ll get what you want, i promise baby. just be patient, yeah?”

he nodded, looking up at you with tear-stained eyelashes. you took this opportunity to look him directly in the eyes while slowly lifting up your shirt to catch the hem between your teeth. he took a sharp inhale at the sight of exposed chest. you decided you would pass on wearing a bra this evening.

good choice.

“mm... kei...” you mumble breathily, snaking your arm down your torso, moving closer and closer to the hem of your panties.

“y-yes, angel?”

you shoot him a glance, taking your shirt out from between your teeth to be able to speak clearly.

“what was that?” your tone was sharp as you addressed him, leaning in close, “what’s my name?”

“m-mommy...”

“there we go, baby boy... that’s right...” your hand trails its way down once again, and you making a show of throwing your head back and sighing as it makes its descent. you begin stroking the outside of your panties, feeling the wet patch that has already seeped through the lacy material.

"kei... baby... already so wet for you..." you sigh, "now enjoy the show, yeah? don't move, baby boy... unless you-- mmm~" you couldn't help but let out a moan, your finger flicking a particularly sensitive spot on your clit as it moved in tight circles on the bud, "unless you don't want your reward..."

you spread your legs out further in your straddling position, giving him a perfect view of your panty-clad cunt. his erection was definitely painfully hard, you thought. no-- it didn't even have to be up to your imagination. you felt his cock strain against your inner thigh, letting out a soft moan at the thought.

you moved your panties to the side to dip a single finger in, sighing at the new feeling and rocking your hips. you opened your eyes to see keigo's reaction to you fucking your fingers-- right on top of him. you could feel his heartbeat from where you were seating atop him as well as his erratic breathing.

slipping your finger in and out of your cunt with ease, you decide to add a second one, beginning to scissor them both to stretch yourself out.

keigo was doing exactly as told-- following directions. only enjoying the show instead of doing anything without permission.

"m-mommy..." he squeaked out.

"yes, baby boy?"

"please... sit on my face. please, i wanna make you feel good, mommy..." his pleas were fucking adorable.

"you want me to fuck your face, sweetheart?" you muse.

"y-yes... please... please..."

"only because you asked so nicely, baby... such a good boy~"

he moans as you shift your position to finally take off your panties and throw them aside unceremoniously. you place your thighs on either side of his head, trapping his head between them and immediately feeling his hot panting breath hit your core.

“keigo, honey... you know what to say if you want to stop, right?” you look into his eyes, patiently awaiting his answer before moving forward at all.

“yes... red.” his big hands squeezed the fat of your thighs, just below your ass as he replied.

“mm... good boy~” you sigh once again, finally sinking yourself down to meet his lips. immediately, his tongue poked out and lapped at the wetness already dripping out from your cunt. he moaned against you, the vibrations sending a wave of pleasure up your spine. god, it was almost like he was enjoyed having you sit on his face more than you.

almost.

you grabbed a fistful of his hair as your body fell forward from pleasure. you always knew he enjoyed having his hair tugged, but you held off on letting him have that pleasure at the moment. until he took your clit in his mouth and sucked, kneading your ass as he held you in place.

and high pitched moan was ripped from your throat, and your fingers tensing into a fist on reflex, pulling at keigo’s hair harshly. the whimper that escaped him was heavenly, his motions becoming more frantic, more needy as he ate you out. he wanted to please you.

he wanted to please you so, so bad.

you felt the coil in your stomach begin to build up, the tension making your mind hazy as the room filled with only your moans and the sounds of keigo’s sinful ministrations against your core. all of his movements now harsh, and a steady transition of his tongue lapping at your clit, and his lips sucking more and more as he knew you were close.

“f-fuck, kei... fuck... a-ah... i’m- i’m gonna cum...” you all but whisper, your voice failing you.

“cum, mommy. please. please cum for me...” he mumbled against you, giving one particularly harsh suck and before you could even process his words, you were thrown over the edge.

your vision went white as your orgasm washed over you in an impeding wave, keigo not giving you enough warning before making you cum with so much force.

“mommy?” his voice snapped you back to reality as you began to come down from your high, “are you okay? w-was i good?”

you shifted from your position to lie next to him on the mattress, looking into his eyes with nothing but pure sincerity as you replied, “baby... yes... oh my god, yes. you were so, so good...” you stroked his cheek warmly with the back of your hand, feeling your heart flutter when he leaned into your touch.

“now, i just have to return the favor now, hm? you were such a good boy for mommy, now it’s mommy’s turn to make you feel good,” you whisper in his ear, nipping at it once before unbuttoning his jeans and sliding them off with ease. you were impatient, and so was he.

“tell me what you want, baby. use your words,” you instructed, stroking his cock with one finger through his boxers.

he squeaked, quickly shying away at your instructions, clearly embarrassed at what he wanted to ask of you.

“sweetheart, look at me,” you held his cheeks with your free hand to direct his gaze back to you, “tell me, i want to make you feel good, yeah?”

he bit his bottom lip.

“...p-please fuck me,” he pleaded almost inaudibly. he doubt you even heard it, and like hell he would be able to muster enough courage to say it again.

thankfully, you heard it. loud and clear.

“you want mommy to fuck your ass, baby? is that what you want?”

“...yes, please...” his cheeks burned at your lewd words. he hadn’t expected you to say it so bluntly, but it was exactly what he wanted.

you leaned down to catch his lips in a passionate kiss, one hand holding the nape of his neck while the other held his waist to draw him as near to you as possible. you wanted the kiss to show him exact how much you loved him-- how you only wanted to make him happy.

“you know exactly how to ask. my good boy~”

you reached over into your nightstand drawer, pulling out purple strap-on and lube, fixing the harness around your waist, and pulling off his briefs completely. you lubed up your fingers, rubbing them against the digits from your other hand to warm it up. you positioned yourself in between his thighs, pulling them apart to give you easy access.

“you okay, kei?” you ask.

“yes, yes... i am...” he responded, looking up at you then to your fingers, his gaze clearly impatient.

you chuckled, bringing your index finger to circle his hole gently, lubing up everything as much as possible before pushing it in, little by little.

by no means was this keigo’s first time experiencing something like this with you, however, any experience that caused him discomfort or pain was lost. you made a constant, extra effort to make sure everything was perfect for him.

when your finger entered him completely, you slowly pumped it in and out, feeling him relax around you as you continued.

“feeling okay?”

“y-yes... you can... add another,” he said.

at his word, you added your middle finger, beginning to scissor them inside him to prep him for what was to come. his gasps slowly began to turn into breathy moans at the sensation, and when you curled your fingers upward to hit his prostate, he whimpered beneath you, hips bucking up to meet your fingers. you held him down with your free hand, making sure you still had complete control.

“third?” you ask.

“yes...”

you quickly comply, adding a third and following the routine you set for the previous digits. pumping in and out, curling them at that spot that always had him uncontrollably whining from pleasure.

you continue scissoring your fingers until you believed he was prepped enough, beginning to lube up the strap that’s been settled on your hips while looking for keigo’s approval once again, “are you ready, baby?”

he nods, a faint “yes...” passing from his lips.

slowly, you push in the silicone cock inside, inch-by-inch and watching his body language with a sharp gaze. he was doing so, so well you thought, the dildo going inside with ease.

“it’s in, baby... all the way... good?” you ask once again.

“good... so good...”

you smile, experimentally letting your hips draw back and slam back into his once. the way his voice cracked, his hands looked for leverage wherever they could find it to control the amount of stimulation he felt...

you swear you were getting drunk off of him.

you begin to set a slowly, languid pace, grinding your hips into his. he bit his bottom lip, “f-faster... please... i promise i can take it...”

you wordlessly comply, placing your hands on either side of his head to get a better angle, and began slamming your hips against him erratically. his desperate moans and whines quickly picking up pace and pitch, and you vaguely pick up mumblings of “so good...”, “oh my god...”, and “so close...”

he looks down at you with a hazy expression. his cock now swollen and leaking from penetrative stimulation, but it was clearly not enough. the way he crooned and leaned into your touch every time you pulled your hips away from him-- oh, you could tell it was just painful for him.

you lightly wrapped your fingers around his cock, your hand not moving, but your cock driving into him even faster-- just to see how he would react. he hissed at the contact, thrusting his hips to create his own stimulation. you didn’t stop him, seeing how close he could make himself to cumming just by fucking your fist. he was so loud, loud moans bouncing off the walls only to be broken by his voice cracking.

“you close, baby?” you coo.

“m-mhm... oh my god.... so close...” his hips picked up speed, the sound of skin slapping against skin almost as loud as his noises now.

“cum baby, you deserve it, yeah? such a good boy...” you pet his hair as you encouraged him, moving your hand and hips to meet his thrusts to make him tip over the edge faster, reveling in the way his eyes screwed shut and his knuckles turned white from gripping the sheets beneath him.

he came with a choked moan, shaking violently as you continued to pump him as felt heavy ropes of cum glide down your hand, his stomach...

you kissed the tip, open-mouthed and wet to make him twitch again under your touch.

“how are you feeling, kei?” you whisper, petting his soft hair as you patiently, carefully slipping out of him. you untie the harness around your waist, setting it on your side table once again and lying beside him.

you waited for his heaving chest to relax and his eyes to flutter open again.

“great... fucking amazing...” he smiled at you, his breath heavy as he panted between his words.

“let me get you cleaned up, yeah? you did so good for me...” you kissed his temple, letting your lips linger on his flushed skin for a bit longer. you pulled away after several seconds, looking deep into his eyes, “i love you, keigo,”

his palm rested on your cheek as he looked back at you, “i love you more,”

he said your name with nothing but love, admiration and pure joy.

you truly were the light of his life.

[oh-katsuki]

Payback: Part 1 (Armin x Reader x Mikasa)

Pairing: Armin x Reader x Mikasa

Word Count: 2.1k

Content: Smut, fwb, alcohol consumption, oral sex (reader receiving), praise, they get caught, finger choking

Content Warnings: Drunk sex, drugs, semi-public sex, slight dacryphilia, slight dumbification

A/N: this series is probably gonna have about three parts, so enjoy part 1. Archive Fic

Part 2 | Part 3

You and Armin had been friends for a long time. Everyday for the past six years, Armin had been a part of your life and you had been a part of his. The one catch is that you and Armin also happen to have sex… a lot. Don’t get it twisted, you both are strictly friends, but that doesn’t stop you from going at it whenever you can. That’s why the look Armin gave you tonight from across the circle didn’t alarm you in the slightest.

It wasn’t unusual for your friend group to get together on Wednesday nights to drink, in fact, it happened almost every week and constantly resulted in Jean being late to his Thursday morning lectures. Still, you all gathered at Sasha, Connie, and Jean’s place every Wednesday to sit in a circle and drink yourselves stupid. Tonight was no different.

You all sat in the living room of the trio’s apartment in a sloppy circle. A few more people had been invited tonight, so the group was larger than usual, bleeding out into the crevices on the sides of the couch to attempt to fit everyone into what now looked like a lopsided oval. On one side of you sat Mikasa and on the other sat Jean, who was nursing a cup of god knows what from the previous round of rage cage that he’d lost. In the center of the circle sat a green bottle that was a dead give away to the new game the group would be playing.

“Seven minutes in heaven!” Connie called, adjusting the bottle in the center of the circle. “Since it seems everyone has had ample alcohol,” He shot a glance at his best friend, Sasha, who was a giggling mess in the arms of a blonde man you’d seen around campus a few times. “I think it’s about time we get the game started.”

“Man, shut up. You’re just looking for an excuse to makeout with someone.” Jean spoke up from beside you, giving a laugh into his drink as he made eye contact with the grey haired boy. You couldn’t help but let out a laugh from beside him, taking a sip from the beer bottle at your side.

“Yeah Connie, why is it that you think tonight’s the night you’re gonna get lucky?” You spoke up, leaning back on one hand and raising your eyebrow and snorting slightly.

“And with who?” It was Mikasa now who spoke up, the usually quiet girl’s lips pulling up into a wry smile as she glanced to Connie, Jean, and then you, where her gaze lingered for a second too long.

Connie gave a huff and rolled his head back before speaking up. “How about ____, huh?” Jean broke out laughing at this and you shook your head, letting out a good natured laugh. “Oh cmon, you don’t think I could? I’ve seen the marks on her. Can’t tell me she doesn’t.”

He slurred his words slightly as he spoke and you gave a laugh. It was no secret you had a fuck buddy, the marks all over your body would be enough to prove that to just about anyone, but what your friends didn’t know as you shifted your eyes to the blonde on the opposite side of the circle, was that it was someone they knew intimately. Armin’s eyes were clouded over, slightly hazy with the buzz of the alcohol and you could see him mouth the words “five minutes” to you, tossing him an affirmative nod before returning your attention to Connie.

You feigned innocence, giving an exaggerated shrug and a cheeky smile as you let out a laugh. “Haven’t got a clue what you’re talking about.”

“What? Fuckin’ liar, c’mon Armin. Dude you gotta know.” Connie turned his attention to Armin. Now both him and Jean were curious, their bodies leaning forward slightly in anticipation of his answer.

“I haven’t heard anything about that.” Jesus, you could tell why Armin was so popular with women. His voice was so deep and gentle and genuine. The way his soft lips curled slightly into a smile and the way his eyes shimmered slightly had you wondering why he was still single. Connie and Jean muttered curses to themselves, becoming absorbed in another subject of conversation, but Armin’s eyes lingered on you a little longer. They flicked up and down your figure slightly before he exhaled, standing up and breaking eye contact with you as he left the room, tossing you a knowing smile over his shoulder.

Fuck. You could feel your breath catch in your throat as you stood up to follow him. Everyone was far too absorbed in their own conversations to notice the two of you leave, and even if they had, it wouldn’t be unusual since you both are often seen together. Still, you made your way out of the room casually, your hands clenched in your pockets as you anticipated the moments to come. You found Armin leaning against a doorway in the kitchen, his head picking up once he’d heard you enter and his classic friendly smile spreading across his lips as you approached him.

“You’re pretty good at getting the memo.” He spoke, tilting his head slightly as his hand found your waist. “You sure no one’s following?” Armin’s eyes flicked behind you for a moment before coming back to rest on your lips. He licked his own subconsciously as you nodded.

“Mhm, I’m sure.” You spoke, letting him guide you by the waist into a small closet in the hallway. Before you knew it, he’d shut the door to the closet, pushing your figure up against it and bringing his lips to yours eagerly.

He wasted no time in slipping his tongue past your lips, a groan escaping him as he licked into your mouth, one hand gripping the fabric at your waist and the other buried in your hair. Armin pulled at the delicate skin of your bottom lip with his teeth and you let out a shaky breath against him, rutting your hips against his to relieve the ache between your legs.

He quickly lifted your shirt over your head, letting his gaze follow the bare skin of your collarbone. His eyes fell on your breasts and you could ear the faint “fuck me…” that fell from his lips as he attached his mouth to your tit, sucking your nipple eagerly.

Your hands found their way into his hair, a small whimper escaping your lips as you tugged at the soft blonde strands. He groaned, looking up at you.

“Y’look so pretty for me tonight.” Armin kissed up your neck quickly, his hands dipping into the waistband of your jeans. “Just for me, hm?” He hummed against your neck as you brought your hand to the growing bulge in his jeans.

You nodded, already feeling how desperate you were for him as his cock sprang free from his pants. Your mouth watered as you looked at it. Armin was pretty everywhere, his dick was no exception. It was long and a pretty shade of pink with one delicate vein running along the bottom and curved upwards. His dick always hit those perfect spots inside you.

Upon seeing it, you let out a whine as he took your mouth in his again. You took his dick in your fist, pumping him slowly as you shimmied out of your jeans. Armin brought two fingers to your clothed slit, earning a whimper as he applied slight pressure. He could feel the wetness from your panties on his fingers and he let out a low chuckle in response.

“So wet for me already, hm?” He gingerly pulled your panties aside, speaking into the base of your neck. You nodded again, bucking your hips against his hand.

“Please, Armin.” You gave him a breathy exhale, meeting his eyes. “Need more of you, please.”

“Fuck, okay. C’mere.” Armin hissed, taking you by the hips and placing you on a shelf about hip level from the ground. You were now facing the door and Armin’s back was to it as he hastily got on his knees for you.

“Gotta make this fast, pretty.” He was now face to face with your cunt and each word he spoke caused his breath to fan out over the place you needed him most. After meeting your desperate eyes one last time, he licked a long stripe up your pussy before burying his face in it, his lips circling your clit before he dipped his tongue down into your weeping hole. “Wouldn’t want the others to catch us.”

He spoke into your cunt, the words sending vibrations through you as he buried his nose into your clit, his tongue flicking upwards inside of you. It was enough to make your knees start to buckle and to cause a needy whine to fall past your lips.

“Tsk tsk. Gonna have to be a little more quiet.” Armin buried a finger in you as he spoke, curling it upward into the spongy spot inside of you. “Unless of course, y’want them to hear you.” He brought his mouth back to your clit, sucking on it and circling it with his tongue in unison with his fingers.

Fuck you wanted his cock so bad. His fingers and mouth were great, but you wanted to cream on his dick, feel your walls tighten around him as he fucks into you. You begin to whimper as you reach out to grab his wrist in an attempt to fend off your impending orgasm.

“Wanna cum on your dick. Please, please.” You were always stupid for him whenever he touched you. Something about the way he looked at you made you dumb, made you such a slut for his cock. His eyes clouded over as you spoke, pulling his fingers out of you and reaching up to push them past your lips.

You could taste yourself on his fingers as you swirled your tongue around his digits to collect yourself off of him. Armin groaned and pressed gently on the back of your tongue. You could feel tears begin to prick at your eyes and saliva pool in your mouth as he gagged you with his fingers. Upon seeing you gag slightly on his fingers, Armin lined his dick up with your entrance with a new found urgency.

“Fuck, fuck. Beg for it again, baby.” Armin’s dick throbbed and pressed gently against your entrance. You grinded against the head of his cock, your eyes meeting his as your mouth sucked harder on his fingers at the feeling of the head of his cock so close against your entrance.

“Please, Armin. Need to cum on your dick. Please.” You plead with him, letting his digits fall from your lips. The sight itself was enough to have him twitching. It drove Armin crazy the way your eyes looked so desperate and worried, as if he wasn’t about to give you what you wanted. As if the sight of you, hoisted up against the cabinets, brows knitted together, eyes fixated on his dick, lips wet with your own slick and spit, wasn’t enough to make him think he could cum from looking at you.

Without any warning, Armin bottomed out inside of you, throwing his head back and giving you (and himself) a moment to adjust. He quickly picked up a ruthless pace, the boxes on the shelves behind you rattling slightly as he fucked you into the wall. His fingers stayed in your mouth and with each thrust he pressed the back of your tongue. It was enough to have your eyes welling slightly with tears.

“Fuck, you’re so t-tight.” He groaned, pulling his fingers from your lips and threw his head back. Armin brought his lips to yours and sloppily licked into your mouth as he continued fucking into you.

“So big. So big.” You spoke between thrusts, each one earning him a high pitched moan. Neither of you cared about noise now, you could hear the music from the living room in the closet and the sound of voices floating through the house. It was loud enough now that you could whine all you wanted. “S’close, Armin. I’m so c-close.”

Your body shuddered as he brought a hand to your clit, rubbing tight circles into it. Your legs shot straight out, toes curling as your knees pressed against his sides.

“Can feel you squeezing me. Y’look so pretty when you’re cumming.” You wrapped your legs around him, throwing your head back in a whine that sounded a bit like his name.

Your first orgasm hit you like a truck, your toes curling and legs shaking as you let out a tempered moan that came from somewhere in your gut. Armin kept up the ruthless pace, a drawn out “fuck, there it is” escaping his lips as he fucked you through your high. At least that’s what would have happened had the door to the closet not swung open right as you came to reveal a wide eye’d Mikasa.

[sugako]

c+k: tendou

tendou x f!reader

cw: 18+ minors dni, nsfw, smut, fluff, morning sex, orgasm denial, oral (f!receiving), fingering, cumming on the reader, cum play, l-bombs, teasing, exhibition/semi-public (no one sees), car sex, unprotected sex, creampie, aftercare, degradation

wc: 1.8k

a/n: hi again friends!! pls enjoy another c+k (almost done),, also idk why i forgot to post this when it's been done forever

“Good morning, love!” His excited tone roused you from the last bits of sleep you were clinging to. Tendou was such a morning person. You could wake up in the morning, but he just came alive, always telling you that it was because he got excited to wake up beside you each day.

“Morning, ‘tori.” You mumbled and stretched. The warmth from the sun glistening through the window was deceiving in comparison to the brisk chill outside.

“It’s Valentine’s Day.” He said brightly.

Having had to suffer through the past week or so of him working overtime, testing out new recipes and combinations and this and that, you knew it was Valentine’s Day. His arms, still snaked around you from last night tighten as he shifts to lay on top of you, nuzzling his face into your chest.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” you try to match his energy, but to little avail, “I love you.” You crane your neck down just enough to kiss at the top of his head, his buzzed curls tickling under your nose.

“I love you too, y/n.” His demeanor calmed for a moment before almost immediately revamping. Long fingers snaked up your sides under the sweatshirt you stole from him, brushing and prodding exactly where he knew you were sensitive. Yelping and giggling, you thrashed under him, held down by his strong legs that were wrapped around yours.

“If you…” you gasped, “...if you loved me you wouldn’t torture me!”

He pushed the top up and over your head, leaving you completely bare. His lips quickly pressed one little, messy peck after another against your neck, cheeks, chest, anywhere he could.

“We both-” another kiss “-know that’s-” another “-not true.” He slowed enough to press a deep kiss against your mouth and pressed his hips between your legs. Against the thin fabric of his boxers, you could feel the complete outline of his hard cock. “Plus, you beg for me to torture you all the time, love.”

You pouted but kissed him back just as sweetly. “What do you want to do today?” You asked as he pulled away, pushing back the covers to kiss all the way down your stomach.

“Today? I don’t know. Right now? I want to eat my breakfast.” His muffled voice barely reached your ears while he busied his lips with nipping and kissing your hips and thighs.

The comment sent heat straight to your ears. He never ceased to make you feel giddy, especially when he lifted his deep maroon eyes to meet yours just before teased through your folds with a finger.

When he felt you couldn’t take much more of his gentle strokes he licked a thick stipe up your center. A shudder coarse through your body as the tip of his hot muscle landed squarely on your throbbing clit.

“Satori!” You whined, hips already aching to buck against his face. “Please, ah!”

“So sensitive, baby.” He groaned. “Still worked up from last night?” Your cries were not acknowledged as he looped his arms around your thighs and over the top of your stomach to keep you firmly planted in place. Overcome with sensation, you clawed out to grab anything, landing on one of his hands. He offered two fingers for you to grasp while he continued, unbothered.

“G-gonna… gonna,” you try to sputter out the words, feeling the sparks in your stomach coming to a head.

Tendou pulled away abruptly with a fake, quizzical look on his face. “You’re gonna what?” He settled his chin on his hands against your tummy, kissing lazily just against your skin. The slick from your now-aching cunt glistened on his lip under the hazy, morning sun.

“P-please?” You were nearly in tears, so close to release if he even shifted his abdomen the right way against your mound, you might come undone.

“Please what, baby?” He kept up the silly act well. “What do you need?” You, on the other hand, were heaving and panting under him.

“Such a tease, ‘tori.” You squeeze the words out eventually. “I wanna cum.”

“Hmm, that,” he disentangled one of his hands from under his head and traced it down your dripping core. One of his digits easily slipped past the slick and into your entrance. He curled it against the sweet, spongey spot inside of you, making you clamp around him. “I bet you do.”

“I do, I do!” You whine, not caring if you look desperate now. “Please, Satori, wanna cum so bad, please, I’ll do anything, please!”

Wrong answer.

He sat back on his heels, eyeing you down with a dark smirk that made you feel so small and helpless. “Okay, but remember you said ‘anything’.” The pretty red tip of his long cock peeked out from the band of his underwear, precum leaking wherever it could. He pulled his length out and brushed it up and down your slit. “I’m going to cum all over this pretty little cunt, then we’re going to go on a little trip, and if you can stop yourself from making a mess like a little slut, then you can cum all you want.”

It felt like a trap, but you knew he would stick to his word. Your head was nodding before he even finished speaking. As soon as he got your quick verbal confirmation, he lined himself up and slipped into your eager opening. The burn made you clench and quake under him, but he kept a steady, albeit slow, pace of entering you.

“You feel so good, baby.” He pulled your thighs off the bed so he could stay kneeling, and the new angle pushed him even deeper into you. On instinct, your legs wrapped around his hips as best they could. “If you keep squeezing me like that I won’t last very long.”

You wanted to tell him it wasn’t on purpose. Your cunt clamped around him on its own accord, sensitive from being stuffed so full. The words came out instead as just a garbled mess of moans. He smiled down at your form, already so ruined, before he started pistoning into you. His hold on your hips never waivered and he kept you exactly where he needed to.

The lewd sounds coming from between your legs bounced around in your head, making you slump back to let him take you. His eyes left yours when you relaxed into the bed. He was too focused on watching exactly how your cunt swallowed him whole, dragging him in and gushing around him. In no time, a creamy ring landed around the base of his cock, driving a blush into his cheeks. You even, wanton moans were beautiful music to his ears.

Unsure of how much time had passed, you only tensed when his thrusts became sloppier and his tip twitched against your walls. He shuddered out a sigh and let himself slip out of your dripping center, setting you back on the bed.

“Keep those legs open, baby.” He whined, pumping himself quickly before his hot cum shot in ropes against your open cunt. Without missing a beat, he pressed his cock against your cunt, rutting against you, his tip slipping just past your entrance until he was pumped dry. “Good girl...good girl.” He moaned.

...

Four hours later you had some regrets. Maybe more than some. Now you were standing at the top of the hill in Montmartre wishing you could take bake your words. You wore a skirt that was just a little too short for the weather and tight panties Tendou had picked out for you. When a cool wind bruised against the front of your thighs.

You tugged on his sleeve, “Satori.” You whispered.

“What is it, love?”

“Can’t take it anymore, please can we just… I don’t know, can we go home? Please?” Your lips brush against the shell of his ear.

“I can’t say no when you ask so nicely.” He grabbed your hand and rushed you away to the corner you had parked on. Your feet stumbled over the cobble as you tried to keep up with his long strides.

Before you realized you had even arrived at the corner, the back door of the car swung open and you were thrown in. Just as you sat up he was pushing you down again and flipping up your skirt.

"Soaked," he grinned. His fingers slid up the fabric, teasing the mess beneath. You could feel the mix of cum squishing between your legs, threatening to leak out the sides of the too-tight underwear as he pressed against it.

"Di-didn't make a mess." You sighed when he finally pulled them down your legs and tossed them into the front seat.

"I see, love." He traced up your cunt, collecting cum on his fingertips and bringing it to your lips. You took them into your mouth with a second thought. Your tongue swirled around his fingers, sucking tightly. "Good girl."

With his other hand, he reached down and hurriedly unzipped his pants. You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him in just as he took his fingers from your mouth. A trail of saliva connected your tongue to his fingertip that made his own mouth run dry.

"All clean." He complimented and untucked himself.

"Want you, please, wanna cum, 'tori, please." You gasped as his cock slapped against your slit, teasing your entrance.

"Mhmm, course… you deserve it."

Tendou groaned as he slipped right into you. With the amount of cum splashing between your legs and the dull ache of want, he easily molded himself to you. Not waiting more than a second, he started pumping into you fast and reached his thumb down to tweak your throbbing clit.

"Been hard since we left the apartment. Thinking about your fucking cries and moans, whining for my cock. So cute, baby." He shuddered when he hit a particularly deep spot within you and you clamped down around him.

Your head was empty, too focused on how his thumb was kneading just right against your clit. His hips started stuttering with your own and you hit the edge within moments of one another. It came over you in a rushing wave, one jolt after another.

More of his cum spattered inside of you, filling you to the brim. Your damp thighs shook around him in the cold car as they searched for any warmth now that both your bodies had stilled.

He slumped over you and sighed heavily into your ear. "Good girl, felt so good. You okay, baby?"

"Y-yeah, I'm good, just cold. Kinda thirsty." You sputter out. He reached for the discarded underwear and cleaned you up as best he could before he cleaned himself and tucked his softening cock back into his pants.

"We'll get some drinks on the way home," he kissed you sweetly on the tip of your nose. "Happy Valentine's Day."

[meltwonu]

| 🍒 CH-CH-CHERRY BOMB! 🍒 |     [CHAPTER 𝟙𝟛]

pairing; dom!seungcheol x camgirl!reader

this chapter’s notes; camshow, breeding kink, sir!kink, pet play(kitten), v small amt of anal play, dirty talk!!! HAPPY FRIDAY THE 𝟙𝟛TH! 😗💕 Here we are with ch 13 on Friday the 13th, I didn't even realize it but man my ✨brain✨just planned that out so perfectly LOL 💕 I just wanna apologize for any grammatic/spelling errors in this one and it’s a bit shorter... I tried to proofread this all day but I'm also watching unus annus’s livestream at the same time and my peabrain cannot multitask but I TRIED!! let it be known 😩😭 Anyway, I hope ya’ll have a great weekend, stay hydrated and safe! Enjoy~! 🍒 

chapters; 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - ?

alphagyu97: oh fuck oh fuck

alphagyu97 has donated $100

hoshi_tiger_xx: oh??? Cute lil kitten ears????

A moan floats past your lips as you sit in Seungcheol’s lap; his cock already snug inside of you before you’d even turned the camera on. “Ah, ye--yeah, we thought we’d, mmh, try--try something n-new…”

Seungcheol smirks although neither you nor the camera catch it as he holds you still. Much like before, he’d started working you up before you got on camera and this time he’d asked you to sink down onto his cock and wait patiently until it was time to begin; neither of you saying a word or moving an inch as he peppered kisses along your shoulders and neck.  “Why don’t you show them your cute ‘lil tail, kitten? It’s getting squished between our bodies...”

universe_WZ: yes yes yes

tangerine_kwan: show us your cute tail princess

therealchan99: thank u for the pics btw i scream abt them every 30 minutes

therealchan99 has donated $50

You reach a shaky hand behind your back for the fluffy material as you show it off to the camera to the best of your ability; making sure to not move it around too much or else you knew you’d cum too soon. “I, ah, it’s--it’s keeping me s-so full…” He makes you answer a few more comments as you sit on his cock; blunt nails digging into the skin of your waist when he feels you trying to get him to move.

artist8hao: so so so pretty baby

kitty_junjun: cute little kitty

kitty_junjun: should come and play sometime ;)

xcaliburDK has donated $75

The way Seungcheol has you in his lap is a little uncomfortable for you and he quickly takes notice of the way you start to squirm more and more with each comment or question you reply to. “Kitten, it looks like you hit your donation minimum already. Should we start?” He coos.

You can only nod in return as you squint your eyes to check the laptop screen to see how you were doing. “Ngh, p-please… I--I’m so f-full I can’t wait any l-longer…” Whining, you clench around his cock and the toy as he chuckles lightly behind you. He’d purposely asked if the two of you could sit further back on the bed and further from the camera and laptop and you’d raised an eyebrow but agreed.

“Sorry, the angle’s not going to be very good for this but you’ll understand why.” Seungcheol comments.

The laptop screen is full of questioning comments and donations that beg Seungcheol to hurry up and fuck you.

His grip on your waist tightens a little before he’s slowly lifting you off of his cock and you let out a disappointed noise when he’s completely pulled out. “Nooo~ I w-want--”

“Ah, ah, I know what you want, kitten. But you need to get on your hands and knees for me. Facing the camera.”

Oooh, that’s why he wanted space.

You nod frantically as you easily get comfortable on your hands and knees in front of the camera and laptop; fluffy tail resting against your spine as the bell on your collar jingles.

alphagyu97: oh god please breed her

angelhan: yes god please

Seungcheol kneels behind you; already easing his cock back into your tight pussy as you mewl straight into the camera. “Our cute little kitten is already squeezing my cock so tight…”

You feel his fingertips on your skin before he’s reaching for the fluffy tail and he gives it a small tug as you whine and whimper in return.

“No, no pl--please, sir, I’ll cum if, ah, you p-play with my--my tail!”

Your eyes clamp shut just as Seungcheol starts to play with the anal plug; tugging on it and moving it slightly in order to get you to squirm a little more before he gives you want you wanted. He smirks at your back as he hears the sound of donations and comments flooding the screen in rapid succession.

“Oh? But they seem to like when I play with you like this.” You clench around Seungcheol and the toy, small cries on your lips when your sensitive body already wants to give in to the pleasure. “So fuckin’ pretty with your cute tail and ears and your pretty ‘lil collar on.”

chwenon: shes gonna cum so fast lol

gentleman_josh95: i kno, u can already tell she wants to

hoshi_tiger_xx has donated $50

xcaliburDK has donated $50

sleepy_wonu: look at her cute fuckin face while she tries to not cum haha

Seungcheol draws his hips back slightly before slowly thrusting into you from behind; fingertips still playing with the tail as he moves it around in tandem with his slow thrusts. “Oh kitten, you’re so fuckin’ wet for me, baby~” You can only moan back in response as you resist the urge to meet his slow movements with your own, much quicker ones.

“Ah, s-sir, please…”

tangerine_kwan: so cute when she's whiningggg

angelhan: dont give into her so easily~ make her work for it ;)

kitty_junjun: aww but shes so cute like this

Your fingertips dig into the bed sheets and you peel your eyes open as you attempt to read off the comments flying across the screen. “Mmh, ‘m so full… and sir won’t s-stop playing, ah, with my--my tail…” You can see Seungcheol’s form behind you on the screen, hips slowly moving as he plays with the tail.

You slowly find yourself moving with him and meeting his thrusts; chasing your pleasure as Seungcheol seemingly takes his time.

“Ngh, s-sir, can I c-cum?”

Seungcheol grins at your back, suddenly picking up the pace as he finally leaves the anal plug alone. “I don’t know, can you? Why don’t you ask them?” You blink your hazy eyes at the camera before flitting towards the comments section of your camshow.

“P-please tell s-sir to, mmh, let m-me cum…” You beg; unintentionally sending the comments section and donations into a flurry of yes’s and no’s.

artist8hao: let her cum but dont let it be the only time

alphagyu97: aww princess dont forget he still needs to breed your cute lil cunt

universe_WZ: she can cum but she still needs to be a good girl and let sir get what he wants

“Mmh, of--of course I, ah, w-want sir to b-breed my pussy… I, hah, want his--his cum i-inside of m-me…” You start working your hips back as you meet Seungcheol’s pace that speeds up at your words and the two of you fall into a rhythm as he works to get you off first. His hands grip your waist as he angles his thrusts to tap your g-spot and you mewl and whine in response; careful to not accidentally call Seungcheol’s name in the midst of the moment.

“Fuh--fuck, sir, ‘m g-gonna cum… please…”

“Cum whenever you want, kitten.”

You nod shakily; head falling forward as you let yourself get lost in the pleasure.

Your eyes flutter shut as various thoughts flood your mind. The main one being how seamlessly Seungcheol fit into your camshows and how much easier it was to film with him than you ever anticipated. The two of you easily forgot that the camera was even rolling most of the time, whether it was live or pre-recorded for your channel and now that he was always with you, it was hard to imagine filming without him.

“Ah, kitten, your cute ‘lil cunt is, ah, sucking me in deeper… You must really want my cum, huh?”

His words bring you out of your thoughts as you bite your lip. “Mmhmm, I w-want sir to c-cum, hah,  inside my p-pussy and b-breed me… wanna be, ngh, filled with your---your cum…”

“Why don’t we cum together then, hmm? Bet you wanna feel my cock throbbing in your cute ‘lil cunt, huh, kitten?”

The warmth blooms inside of you as you nod; cheeks hot as you peer straight into the camera. You readjust slightly, the bell on your collar tinkling as the set of cat ears on your head slip slightly. “Y-yes, sir… Please cum w-with me…”

Seungcheol doubles his pace and you quickly feel one of his hands leaving your body as he wraps his hand around the fluffy tail again. He starts to move it around again, slightly tugging on it as you cry out. “Ah, s-sir!”

chwenon has donated $75

angelhan has donated $50

universe_WZ has donated $100

artist8hao has donated $75

“Fuh--fuck, sir, please! P-please breed me, please, ah, c-cum inside m-my little cunt and--and fill m-me up with your c-cum!”

Tears blur your vision as you’re quickly thrown over the edge and into an orgasm; ears ringing when your entire body goes rigid. Seungcheol finds it harder and harder to thrust into you as your walls flutter around his cock and he soon finds himself cumming with you too; cock throbbing as he unloads all of him cum inside you. “Oh, fuck, kitten…” He moans; eyes rolling to the back of his head as he lets the pleasure wash over himself as well.

The sound of donations and comments drown out your soft cries and Seungcheol’s deep groans and you’re almost positive that you’d made at least a couple thousand off of tonight’s show.

alphagyu97: holy shit look at her face, fuck

kitty_junjun: is she crying?

hoshi_tiger_xx: damn, shes so drunk on cock shes crying

therealchan99: aww poor kitten~

You let out a stuttered breath as your body starts to relax; soft sniffles following right after. “Ngh… sir…”

Seungcheol smiles softly when he hears the way your voice trembles and he’s gentle to slide his cock from inside your cunt; groaning when his cum immediately drips down onto the sheets from how much he’d cum inside you.

“Ah, kitten, what a waste. How am I supposed to breed your ‘lil cunt if you’re letting my cum spill out of you already?”

You lick your lips and despite the tiredness, a new wave of arousal pours over your body at the thought of Seungcheol cumming inside of you a second time. You shake your hips; foggy eyes staring straight into the camera.

“You’re just going to, ah, cum inside me again… and let e-everyone watch...”

The next morning, Seungcheol drives you over to the diner to start your first real day at work and you feel downright nervous once the car stops. You’d gotten so used to camming and being alone that this new foray into normalcy was making you think twice, even just momentarily.

“You gonna be okay?” He turns to you, concern obvious on his face when your eyes meet his. “I can always take you straight home or take you back to the roller rink with me if you d--”

“No! No, I wanna do this... I know we made a lot of money off of the show last night but... But I think this’ll be good for me. Both of us working so we can afford rent ‘n stuff!” 

“We should like a married couple.” Seungcheol jokes. 

Your cheeks burn hot at his comment as you bite your lip. “Ehehe~” 

Seungcheol grins at you, hands still on the steering wheel. “Just let me know if you need anything, okay? I always have my phone on me anyway, Namjoon doesn’t really care.” 

The two of you share a laugh as you slowly reach for the door handle. 

“I will, I promise!” 

“I still do not get why you want to work here.” 

Jun laughs, hands on his hips as he watches you adjust the short dress uniform you’d put on, moments before. 

“It’s just... something to keep me occupied, is all.” Smoothing down your uniform, you do a small spin for Jun who nods back in approval. “And I wanna make friends! Aren’t we friends?” 

Jun’s eyes twinkle with playfulness as he gestures you over to the front of the diner. “Of course we are! Which by the way...” He pauses, looking over the relatively full diner to make sure nobody caught your conversation. “Is... Seungcheol-hyung okay with y’know... You working here and me... Being one of your viewers leaving comments ‘n stuff?” 

A genuine look of concern crosses his features as he waits for you to respond. 

You puff your cheeks as you think, “I think so? I mean he hasn’t...” Memories of Seungcheol saying he’d kick Jun’s ass immediately flood your mind as you laugh nervously. 

“Y-yeah, he didn’t say a word!” 

After two hours, you decide to take your 15 minute break; waving to Jun before you head towards the employee backroom to grab your phone. 

You check your notifications, surprise on your face when you see Seungcheol’s already messaged you a few times. 

cheollie ✨: have a good day!

cheollie ✨: u okay over there, baby?

cheollie ✨: dont feel pressured to answer asap lol 

You laugh under your breath, typing up a response as you take a seat in the break room.

‘It’s been going okay! I’m taking a short break right now tho!’

Shockingly, Seungcheol response only after a few seconds.

cheollie ✨: oh, thats good! I take it no issues?

‘Nope! my feet kinda hurt tho lol’

He asks you a few more questions; one about Jun keeping his distance, to which you shake your head and laugh. 

cheollie ✨: you never showed me your uniform btw 😏

You let out a noise of realization, fingertips already swiping through your phone to get to your photos as you send him one that you’d taken earlier. 

‘How's it look? 🥺’

It goes quiet for a couple minutes and you half-wonder if Seungcheol got in trouble for having his phone out. 

‘Cheol, u ok?’

cheollie ✨: is it bad I'm already thinking about lifting that cute little skirt up 

cheollie ✨: fucking you nice and hard with your panties just pushed to the side

cheollie ✨: fuck, and making you go back to work with your pussy filled with my cum 

A shiver rolls down your spine at his words; gulping as you check the time for how much you had left before you had to get back out onto the floor. 

‘what if I bend over and someone sees my panties all wet n soaked thru with ur cum...’

cheollie ✨: then they’d know you’re mine. 

cheollie ✨: I mean most of your viewers already know that 

cheollie ✨: but I want everyone to know, yknow?

cheollie ✨: god the way I wanna fuck you on the hood of my car

cheollie ✨: your cute little whines while you try to keep quiet 

You let out a shaky, quiet moan; thighs rubbing together when you notice you only have about three more minutes before your break was up. 

‘Cheol... I have to get back to work 😭 how could you get me horny before I have to get back...’ 

You pout your lips at your phone screen as you wait for his response.

cheollie ✨: 😈 

cheollie ✨: I have an idea 

cheollie ✨: for later 

cheollie ✨: I hope you can wear your uniform home 

cheollie ✨: see u in a few hours baby 

[xseaxwitchxkpop]

Have Your Cake and Eat It, Too (3)

Kinda sad I can’t make a pun with this title, but oh well. This is the third part and perhaps the final (unless someone wants like a funny/crack part four with the members pressing Yunho and San about why they spent the night). I hope y’all enjoy, ya filthy animals.

Part One // Part Two

Disclaimers/CW:  mommy kink, fem!reader, dom!reader, dom!Yunho, sub!San, tall!reader, plussize!reader, daddy kink, anal, pussy eating, masturbation, nipple play, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), riding, ass eating, hair pulling, choking, fingering, communication is important (everything discussed beforehand), consent is sexy

Requested: NO

Group: ATEEZ -- San, Yunho

Word Count: 3,110

You cracked your eyes open, awoken by gentle ministrations on your clit. You sighed, not gaining any sexual pleasure from it, but it was certainly relaxing. You craned your neck to the right, locking eyes with Yunho who was responsible for the hand on your pussy. 

“Good morning, sleepy head, how you doin’?” he asked, ending the question with a sleepy smile full of mischief. You lifted your hand from San’s shoulder, who was still sound asleep, and gently smacked Yunho, who dipped a couple of fingers into your pussy as a response.

A soft moan left your lips, and he curled his fingers, not quite hitting your g-spot, but it still felt good nonetheless. 

You felt more than heard San mumble against your chest, head buried in your chest. “What’d you say, Sannie?” you whispered.

He lifted his head and looked at you, then sort of turned his head towards Yunho, squinting his eyes in the gentle yellow light of the sun. “I said,” he began, yawning a little before continuing, “why are you playing without me? It’s my birthday, not yours.”

Yunho chuckled softly and removed his fingers from your pussy and moved them to message San’s asshole. San mewled, opening his eyes further and sucking in a breath. You scooted out of the bed as Yunho rolled San onto his stomach, sticking a finger in and San moaning into the sheets. 

As Yunho worked San’s hole open, you took off your dress, feeling awkward that you were the only one with clothes on; you felt a wet spot on the front where San presumably drooled in his sleep.

You made your way to the nightstand and opened the drawer where you always had condoms stored and fished one out, checking the date to make sure it was still good. You also grabbed the lube and tapped Yunho on the shoulder, handing both to him.

When Yunho took his hands away from San’s ass, San turned around, leaning on his arm and watched Yunho roll the condom down on his cock that was standing upright and slightly red at the top. San’s mouth started to water thinking about Yunho pounding him into the mattress as he’s done before, but this time you were watching, and the thought sent a pleasant shiver up his spine and let out a low whine.

“Aw, is our cumslut so impatient for his hole to be filled?” you drawl sweetly, seated on the chair he occupied just last night and spread your legs, showing him your pussy that gleamed slightly, wet thanks to Yunho’s morning fingers.

Yunho took San by the shoulders and pulled him to his knees, San facing you and Yunho at his back. Slowly, Yunho slipped a couple of lubed fingers into San’s asshole, earning a small “fuck” from the male in question and grabbed his hair to force his eyes on you.

“Look at how pretty mommy’s pussy is. Looks delicious, right?” Yunho taunted San, biting his ear in the process. You were slowly circling your clit and playing with one of your nipples, making intense eye contact with San as if to say you will listen to me, you’re at my mercy, not his.

“Ngghh Sannie, baby, I need your mouth,” you moan out, continuing to play with yourself. San leaned forward but Yunho’s hand in his hair yanked him back, a moan falling from San’s mouth.

“Daddyyyyyyyy, I want mommy’s cunt, look at it,” San whined, desperately trying to get to you, cock an angry red that indicates you and Yunho are getting to him.

You dip two of your fingers in your cunt, exaggerating a moan to get a rise out of San, which worked. “The only way you get this,” you started, dragging your fingers out of you and licking them, making a show for San, “is if you take Yunho’s cock like a good whore, letting him use you as he pleases.”

San gasped as Yunho pushed his cock into San’s hole, both boys moaning as Yunho’s entire dick was swallowed by San. You watched intently, leaning on your knees and resisting to touch yourself, wanting to drink in San in all his glory from a new point of view.

Yunho slowly dragged himself out and then quickly thrusted back in, hand moving from San’s hair to his throat, squeezing lightly and the other hand splayed across San’s midsection, dragging out a long “daddy.” 

Yunho repeated this rhythm a few more times, San’s cock leaking profusely and getting some precum on the bed sheets. “Please just fuck me, master, please, I can’t take it,” San whined out when the pressure on his throat lessened.

“Daddy” was Yunho’s preferred title most of the time, but every once in a blue moon, San would let the title “master” slip in fits of desperation which snapped something in Yunho every time and made him borderline feral.

Yunho looked at you for permission and you nodded your head. Yunho took his head from San’s throat and grabbed his hair, shoving his face into the bed and picking up speed as he grabbed San’s other arm and pulled it back, half of San’s face visible and half on the bed.

“Is this what my prince wanted, hmm? Face down, ass up, completely at my mercy?” Yunho grunted out. You cleared your throat at the last part of his question, shooting daggers at him.

“I’m the one in charge, not you, jackass, keep that in mind,” you spat, leaving no room for being challenged. San let out a moan that reverberated through the room at the tension between you and Yunho, fueling his submissiveness and the feeling going straight to his cock.

Yunho picked up on your tone, but instead of heading it as a warning, he decided to challenge you back. He slowed down his thrusts to an agonizing speed that had San trying to back up, getting any sense of the previous fast friction.

“You better fuck him like the doll he is, master, or I’ll get out my cock and do it myself,” you warned, tensions between you and Yunho doing wonders to the sexual atmosphere, injecting it with a sense of danger and apprehension. The strap-on you had in mind to bring out was bigger than Yunho, so that would double the humiliation.

“Fine, mistress, he’ll be screaming in no time.”

Yunho took the bottle of lube from the bed, squirted some more onto San’s asshole, squirted some more on his own dick when he took himself out of San, then threw it back into the sheets. He reentered San, gave a couple of experimental thrusts, placed his hands on San’s hips, then set a brutal pace, locking eyes with you as San could do nothing but grip the sheets in front of him and whine and pant, closing his eyes at the sensation.

Your pussy was throbbing and you reached down to feel how wet you were; a string of wetness connected your pussy to your fingers and, keeping eye contact with Yunho, once again licked your fingers clean and it was Yunho’s turn to moan loudly. 

Your attention was turned back to San, taking in the beauty of his scrunched up nose, furrowed eyebrows, mouth making a beautifully imperfect “o” shape, and light hitting one of his hands, showing off his tanned skin and catching his veins nicely.You could see the sheen of sweat on his arm muscles and beads of sweat running down his brow; you could’ve sworn some sweat made its way into his mouth but he didn’t seem to care at all, lost in the pleasure of being pounded by Yunho and the knowledge that you were watching.

“Pl-please, nghgh, fuck, dad--mommy, I’m----” he cut himself off with a load moan, cum leaking from his cock to the bed, body twitching in response to the intensity of the orgasm and Yunho’s brutal pace not letting up, fucking him into overstimulation and all San could do was pant and whine.

You got up and made your way over to the boys, cupping San’s face in your hands. “Slow down, Yunho, I want you to come in me, not him,” you demanded, looking up at the male in question. Yunho slowed down then eventually pulled out, drawing a shiver from San as he did so. 

Yunho got off the bed, taking the condom off and making his way to the bathroom to throw it in the trash. You took the opportunity to push San onto his back, straddling him and rubbing your clit across his spent dick, making the male under you mewl in sensitivity.

Your hands were on his shoulders to steady yourself as you did so. “What do you want, whore? This pussy? Do you deserve it? Does your mouth belong on my cunt, suffocating you with my juices?” you ask, teasing him further.

San gave a small moan of indignation, trying to gain his focus back after the brutal beating his asshole just took. He looked up at you with post-orgasm haziness, nodding slowly as he absentmindedly stroked your thighs and running his hands across your chubby stomach as he always liked doing to help him ground himself.

“I didn’t hear you, slut,” you tut, forcing yourself to not give in immediately. Yunho took your place in the chair, watching the scene as you did previously.

“Yes, mommy, I’ve been good. I wanna eat you out, please,” San begged, finally gaining back most of his focus, looking up at you with hope.

You held back the urge to chastise him because your aching cunt won out. You get up and slowly guide yourself to hover over his mouth, teasing him. You couldn’t take your own teasing and sat yourself on his face. He moaned into your cunt and gripped your thighs, fingers feeling the thick flesh that made it so fun to sit on his face and squish his head.

He set to work, doing everything in his arsenal to make you feel the best, eating like a man starved. “Just like that, baby, fuck, it feels so good,” you praise, rocking back and forth for more pleasure.

Yunho was leaned back in the chair, cock now an angry red and leaking precum as he had a difficult time not to come in San’s ass and now struggling to not touch himself, saving that for when you gets a chance at felling your cunt around him, remembering how you took his entire length and girth with no problem, something he had trouble with with other female hookups.

One of your hands made work of one of your nipples while the other one gripped San’s hair, losing yourself in the pleasure that San gave you. Soon enough, he had you cumming on his face, lapping up everything he could before you pulled yourself away. 

You leaned down to smother San’s mouth, the taste of you overpowering the taste of morning breath for both parties. You felt Yunho kissing your shoulder, something you interpreted to mean that he had a question.

He made his way to your ear when you pulled away from San and asked, “You think you can ride me? I’ve been thinking about it non-stop since last night.”

You take a moment, pretending to ponder his question. “You think your dick is up for the job?” you jab as your hand reaches down to brush the organ in question. Yunho hissed at the contact, his dick twitching in your hand.

“Try me,” he responded.

You crawled off San and pulled him up off the bed as Yunho got in and settled down, smile playing on his lips and hands linked behind his head, his cock sitting perfectly against his abdomen, waiting to be used.

Before you sent San off to the chair, Yunho spoke up. “C’mere, our sweet birthday boy, I know you have another orgasm in you.” He used his fingers to motion for San to come to him; the boy in question looked at Yunho in interest, wondering what Yunho would suggest. “Let me eat your ass, baby.”

San quickly got into position and Yunho forced him down on his face by his hips. You took the opportunity to straddle Yunho and slowly plunged on his dick, relishing in the feeling of being stretched out perfectly, the tip of his dick brushing your cervix, a mix of slight pain and immense pleasure, bottoming out completely. Yunho couldn’t help but moan at the contact, San feeling the vibrations and whimpering and the sensation.

As you bounced, rocked, and moved on Yunho’s cock, you pulled San’s head towards yours as he was facing you, making out with him and him enthusiastically reciprocating. Muffled moans filled the air as your other hand went to pump San’s dick and the hand not steadying himself went to your clit, circling it in time with Yunho’s ass eating and your dick bouncing. 

It wasn’t long before Yunho busted inside of you, dick twitching and his moans muffled by San, who felt every small noise coming from Yunho’s lips. You felt Yunho’s hips stutter in an attempt to give up, but he pushed through, fucking his cum further into you as you followed after him, the sensation of his cock and the nerves of your clit being stimulated almost too much. San himself held out a little longer and it took you death-gripping his hair and kissing his neck to make him finally cum a second time.

You and San fell into each other after Yunho moved San’s ass away to catch his breath. The three of you stayed that way for a few minutes, catching your breath and basking in the fun that each of you had. 

You were the first to move, gently lifting San away from you and slowly slipping Yunho’s dick out from your pussy, letting out a satisfied sigh in the process. You gently guided San to sit beside Yunho, who took San in his arms with no hesitation and cuddled him, kissing the top of his head. 

“How about a bath, hmm? Does that sound nice, sweetheart?” you asked San gently, getting a small nod in response. You put on your bathrobe and start running the water and filling the tub with San’s favorite scent. 

Meanwhile, Yunho was petting San’s hair, telling him how well he did, San just giggling in response. “How late is it?” San wondered, turning around in Yunho’s arms and looking at the phone on the nightstand. 

“It’s only 11am. I thought it would be later,” San mused.

“Well, we did go to bed fairly early last night, so I guess we got up fairly early, too,” Yunho answered. He sat up, stretching and yawning, deciding that he’d take the responsibility of changing the sheets and general clean up as you were running the bath.

You came out of the bathroom, taking San by the arm. “Yah, Yunho, are you going to join us in the bathroom?” you said, taking in the sight of Yunho putting his underwear on and a pair of your sweatpants after cleaning San’s cum off his stomach.

“In a little bit! I’m gonna clean San’s cum off this blanket then change the sheets,” he responded, not wanting anything to crust over. You shrugged your shoulders, about to drag San into the bathroom until he stopped you.

“Y/N, can we eat some snacks in the bath? I’m starving,” he told you with his puppy-dog eyes. You didn’t see way not as this was his aftercare and there would be no further shenanigans in the tub. You nodded your head with a smile on your face and he burst into a big smile, grabbing one of the bags and dragging you to the bathroom, the smell of his favorite bubble bath already making him feel better and loved.

You got into the tub first and then San followed, leaning against your chest and then tearing open a bag of mini rice cakes outside the tub, shoving a couple in his mouth before offering one to you. You open your mouth and he puts it in, sitting in front of you so you could wash his back.

“I need to wash your hair sweetie, it’s dirty with sweat,” you said, letting him know before you dump water on his head that could accidentally get his snacks wet, which would be fun for no one. 

Yunho took care of first cleaning the blanket off with a baby wipe then throwing it in your hamper. Afterward, he took off the sheets and made his way to the cabinet where you kept your bed sheets in the living room and stepped on something hard and slightly sticky. He looked down and saw the minute leftovers of the lollipop San had in his mouth that he must’ve dropped when you took him by surprise last night. 

He took a pair of scissors off the counter and cut it from the carpet, throwing it away and proceeding with the bed sheets. When he was done and went to the bathroom, you and San were talking about an anime that you too were watching as he, at his stubborn insistence, fed you food as he fed himself, leaning against your chest and tummy. Yunho decided that at you took care of that, he’d set about putting out changes of clothes for you and San and went to the fridge to see what food you had to cook up a late breakfast, though he wasn’t sure if you and San would be hungry enough after the snacks.

After the bath, you and San got dressed and made way to the living room/kitchen hybrid area where Yunho was, looking at your fridge. “Why do you have so little food in here, Y/N? I see you eating all the time! You need to learn how to cook instead of spending money on take out.”

“Well,” you said, “take out tastes better.” Yunho closed the fridge and cocked an eyebrow at you, sighing in defeat.

“Can we go back to the cafe for brunch?” San asked, making his way to Yunho and hanging off his arm. 

“It would have to be light because of dinner at 3 with the others,” Yunho pointed out. San hummed in response, kissing Yunho on the cheek and then making his way back to you. 

“Join us for that, at least, please,” he asked you, leaning on you and sticking his chin on your shoulder.

“Alright, I can do that,” you answered, loving the way San’s face lit up and your agreement.

[fallout-drabbles-n-stuff]

0K SO PLS HEAR ME OUT YOU NEED TO READ THIS trust me this is right up your alley

MALE SOLE WANTING S*X WHILE WATCHING A HORROR MOVIE (include skinny malone? :3)

(Imma do this more headcanon-ish style. Also I'm guessing this is more of a pre-war/modern! AU)

Cait:

•I don't know if anyone remembers my horror movie Headcanons, but honestly? She is happy with the distraction.

•Play your cards right and she'll end up taking charge herself and see if she can make you scream louder than the poor vics on the TV.

•Probably will laugh if she ends up catching a glimpse of a coincidental sex scene going on while she's screwing your brains out.

Curie:

•probably will naively ask why you want to interrupt the movie and if you'd maybe prefer another one instead. However once she realizes what's going down, she just kind of blushes and turns down the volume on the TV. She won't be able to handle it if she listens to some random person getting choked out whilst in the midst of sex.

•Probably will turn off the TV all together.

Danse:

•This is one of those instances where Danse is secretly thanking a higher power.

•He'll all too enthusiastically return your kisses, turning away from the screen all the way so he can drown out what's going on.

•Even opts to start out the night's events by going down on you, partly because he likes seeing you give home that hazy little love-struck stare, and also because he's totally going to use your thighs as his earmuffs- adjusting them to where he can no matter what.

Gage:

•Is super amused by this.

•Probably going to just pull you onto his lap and start prepping you, eye still glued to the screen, before making you take his cock and lazily fuck until the movie is over.

Hancock:

•Sex or movie? Sex..or..movie..?

•He's going to completely ignore whatever is happening from the moment you start kissing him until the very end of the movie. He's more than happy to do whatever your little heart desires.

•Still is going to insist the two of you finish up the movie after you cum.

Macready:

• totally the kind of person to be into this.

•Turns off the movie so nothing gets spoiled for later on before insisting the two of you try some risky positions on the couch. One being a sitting 69, best of luck.

Maxson:

•Quickly figures a way for the two of you to make it work.

•Doesn't even need to pause the movie, just keeps on watching as he pushes away any clothes that may prove to be an obstacle before taking you doggystyle.

Nick:

•I'm sorry. But he doesn't watch horror movies. Wanna take grandpa robot to bed? Woo him.

Preston:

•He'll probably just laugh at the timing, cuddling up to you to tease you just the slightest bit.

•Believe it or not, he's cruel enough to keep you hot and bothered for the remainder of the movie.

Piper:

•She gets pissed if you talk during the movie..

•Don't attempt.

Skinny Malone:

•He'll probably tease you, playfully reprimanding you for not having enough patience to "finish what you started"

•Nonetheless, he isn't one to leave you unsatisfied for long. After a couple minutes of you whining, he'll gesture for you to come closer and have his way from there.

X6-88:

•Is scarily nonchalant about it, just giving a curt nod.

•If you give him oral, he'll absentmindedly take a fistful of your hair and push you up and down his cock- gaining speed with the building intensity of the scene.

•His reward for doing this will be him repaying the favor, only he'll pause very once in a while and watch as the killer claims another victim- trying desperately to repress the urge to criticize the manner of their death.