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thewritingrowlet · 6 months ago

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The Outing Trip pt. 1, ft. tripleS Xinyu

tags: daddy kink, anal teasing, creampie, praise kink (just a bit), rough

tw: violence (OC takes a punch in the face, nothing crazy I promise)

word count: 12k+

author's note: this is the first part of a small series (4 parts max.) inspired by an anon's idea of a university outing trip (minus the "stranded in an island due to a storm with a bunch of girls" part) featuring a handful of tripleS members. This part also mentions Yooyeon, Nakyoung, Dahyun, and Chaeyeon as I consider them to be candidates to be featured in future parts.

p.s. after I finish writing part 2 of this series, I'm gonna stop writing about tripleS members for one or two fics. Let me know if you think there's anyone (who is over the age of 18 in May 2024) that needs attention (be it bcs they're from a less-popular group, or bcs they only debuted recently and you're a fan, etc).

It is now September. The hot summer days are starting to go and be replaced by the chiller and refreshing days of shorter daylight that autumn usually has in its bag. September is also the month where every single student organization in the university goes on outings to welcome their new members. That includes the student council that you’re the president of. You’re having a meeting with a bunch of council staffs and governors—the term your university uses to refer to council leaders on the faculty level because the university wants to replicate real-world governmental structure—in about 10 minutes to talk about details about the outing itself. Everyone will be wearing their uniform, which is a sight you find to be cute.

“President-oppa!”, you hear a girl’s voice behind you as you’re walking to the meeting place, so you turn around to see who it is. You see Xinyu, the council’s vice president who also happens to be your lovely girlfriend, walking like a supermodel towards you. “Hey, princess”, you greet her before taking her hand and pecking it. Xinyu loves it when you do those two things (call her “princess” and kiss her hand), blushing every time she sees you do it. You, on the other hand, don’t really care if her fondness of praises is a sign of narcissism because no one can tell you she doesn't deserve such treatment. You also don’t really care about displaying affection in public—why wouldn’t you want to show affection to your perfect-in-every-aspect girlfriend all the time? It also serves as an announcement that both you and Xinyu are off-limits since the relationship is not a secret.

“O-oppa”, she looks down at her shoes to hide the red hue on her cheeks, “you always do these sweet things to me”. You wrap an arm around her waist, “because you deserve it, sweetie”. She twiddles her index fingers in shyness, “but my heart can only take so much of it in a day, oppa”. “Skill issue, baby”, you chuckle—how adorable is it that you’ve been dating her for over a year and living together in an apartment for almost as long and she still gets overwhelmed with your sweet gestures and words?

“Xinyu-yah”, you throw a lifebuoy to save her from drowning in her own thoughts, “we need to get to get there fast, baby; there’s only a few minutes left and we’re the last people who get to be late”. You take her hand and start running, making Xinyu yell in surprise and possibly turn some people’s heads. You stop running when you’re in front of the elevator and press the button to go up. It’s nice that the elevator doesn’t have a CCTV in it, because you can share a bit of intimacy with Xinyu by pecking her on the lips and forcing a blush once again—her poor heart is guaranteed to give out by the end of the day. “Oppa, I really can’t take much of this anymore”, Xinyu complains. “Of course you can, what are you talking about?”, you laugh. You and Xinyu need to put on a serious face soon, though, as the elevator doors are opening, and you’ll be met with people outside.

“I thought you two were going to be late, not gonna lie”, Nakyoung, Xinyu’s best friend and fellow council member, greets you at the doors of the auditorium. “Do you really think that low of us, Nakyoung-ah?”, Xinyu protests. Nakyoung laughs, “not really, no—just thought maybe you ran off on a date or something”. Xinyu pinches Nakyoung’s cheeks in annoyance, making a small scene in front of a bunch of council members. You shake your head in amusement, “alright, that’s enough, kids. Is everyone here, Nakyoung-ah?”. “Almost; the Faculty of Medicine’s governor will be late. She’s still assisting in a lab and said you can start without her”, Nakyoung explains before taking you and Xinyu’s hands and pulling the both of you into the auditorium. You look at the clock hanging on the wall and see that you’re perfectly on time—perfectly calculated, if you say so yourself.

“Good afternoon, governors. Thank you for taking the time for today’s little meeting”, you take the center spot on the stage. You sometimes wonder why you talk and act like this in front of fellow students but since the university wants this to be as authentic of an experience as possible, you can’t help but play along. “This is September, and you guys know what it means: we need to welcome the new members of our councils on both the university and faculty level. Would someone kindly kick us off and report their preparation progress?”, you see the Faculty of Science’s governor, Kim Yooyeon, raise her hand so you step to the side and let her take your spot on the stage.

She starts presenting the things she and her members have done to prepare, such as consulting with the dean, surveying the area she wants to go to, and calculating the cost of the entire thing. You admire her thoroughness and ability to think ahead—the girl students call the goddess isn’t just known for her looks, but also sharpness of mind. Just one thing, though: she doesn’t like attention, as shown by the way she jogs back to her seat while partially covering her face after she’s done talking. “Thank you, Yooyeon-ah—oh, hello, Jiwoo-yah!”, you greet Son Jiwoo, the aforementioned governor from the Faculty of Medicine who just entered the room. “Hi, hello”, she rushes to her seat, “sorry for being late, I was needed in the lab”. “No, you’re fine, sweetie. Let’s continue, though”, your over-friendliness spills out and Xinyu glares at you from her seat, but you miss it since you don’t have eyes on the back of your head.

One governor after the other takes turns to present their plans; some have come up with elaborate plans, while others have simpler ideas as to how to welcome their new members. Once everyone is done presenting their plans, you wrap up the meeting (not without expressing appreciation to everyone) and let them go so that they can go about the rest of their day. Yooyeon stays behind, probably because she has some things to discuss with the three of you. “Hey, guys”, she approaches slowly, “I want to talk about something, but can we get out of here first? This auditorium keeps reminding me of some of my hardest days”. “Yeah, sure. Lead the way, unnie”, Nakyoung says before suggesting another idea, “are you guys free, by the way? We can talk over some food if you are—oppa will pay since he’s the richest among us”.

Nakyoung and Yooyeon walk side-by-side while holding hands, while you and Xinyu walk behind them with your hands intertwined. Xinyu then slows down her steps, creating a decent gap between Nakyoung and Yooyeon. “Oppa”, she tugs your hand, a hint of sadness in her voice, “you.. you’re not interested in Jiwoo-unnie, are you?”. Her question catches you off guard, “Jiwoo-unnie? Son Jiwoo? No, of course not. Why?”. “You, um, were a little too friendly with her earlier—I mean, she is pretty, so I understand”, she sulks. You try to recount what happened during the meeting, and you realize that you called her “sweetie”—that pet name is supposed to be reserved for Xinyu only. You instantly feel a huge wave of guilt at the realization, “I’m so sorry, baby. I promise you it was nothing but a slip up”. She lets go of your hand and hugs the clipboard she’s holding with both arms, “please don’t do that again. I-I didn’t like it”, she says.

She refuses to hold your hand for the rest of the walk, and that’s a hint the size of a mountain that you’ve fucked up and you’ll need to make it up to your princess. You finally arrive at the student-favorite noodle spot after a few minutes of walking. It’s not too packed since most students are in class, considering what time it is. Nakyoung joins your group after ordering for everyone. Yooyeon sits across Nakyoung, so that leaves Xinyu no option but to sit across you. Only when she sits down can you see her teary eyes, “you fucked up and now you’re in trouble, son”, your heart says. “Okay, unnie, we’re here. So, what was it you wanted to talk about?”, Nakyoung says. Yooyeon scratches the back of her head, “oh, um, I actually just wanted to hang out with you guys. You seem to be a fun trio to be around”. You chuckle, “yeah, that’s fine, we were getting food regardless. Welcome to the fold, I guess”. You arrange your words more carefully this time because you don’t want to fuck things up even further.

You’re now standing at the bus stop after the meal, still surrounded by your friends. “So, what now?”, you ask. Nakyoung, oblivious to your situation with Xinyu, throws her idea into the ring, “let’s go to your place, oppa. I really wanna lay down on that gloriously soft and fluffy sofa of yours”. You glance at Xinyu, who doesn’t seem to hate the idea, and nod in agreement to the idea, “yeah, we can do that. What about you, Yooyeon-ah? You have other classes after this?”. “N-no, ca-can I join you again? I-I don’t have many friends, you see”, Yooyeon hides her face behind her hands after saying that—you never knew a goddess could be so shy around people and have so few friends, but here you are. “Alright, let’s get on that bus so that we don’t have to walk to the parking lot”, you point to the approaching yellow campus bus—the off-site parking lot is not too far but you just can’t be assed to walk at the moment.

Doesn’t take long for the bus to arrive and take the four of you to the parking lot. You lead them to your car and Yooyeon makes a comment when she sees it, “nice car, Jisung-ah”. “I’m telling you, Jisung-oppa is rich, unnie. Daddy and mommy’s money, right, oppa?”, Nakyoung chimes in to tease you—this mischievous cat never runs out of ideas to tease her friends. “Well, when you put it like that”, you say. You’re never one to brag about your wealth, so you simply thank Yooyeon for the compliment and unlock the car so that your friends can get in. Xinyu gets in the front passenger seat like usual while the other two sit in the middle row.

You’re now out of the parking lot and on the way back to your apartment. “I need to stop at a convenience store, sorry. I need to buy something”, you say to your friends. “I bet he’s buying condoms”, Nakyoung chirps. Xinyu is probably not too entertained with what Nakyoung is suggesting, but they tease each other like that all the time. “I promise you I’m not”, you say as you pull into the driveway of the convenience store. “You guys do it raw, Xinyu-yah?”, Nakyoung lets out a fake surprise gasp at the end. “Kim Nakyoung, I promise I will throw you out the window of our apartment if you keep teasing me”, Xinyu says. “Look at them, unnie; they live together and have unprotected sex all the time”, Nakyoung turns to Yooyeon, who hides her face behind her palms again. You roll your eyes and get out of the car—you just want to get Xinyu’s favorite chocolate and snacks, it is not supposed to be this difficult, ever.

You finally arrive at your building after a short drive from the university. You hop off the car and walk in front, and would you look at that: Xinyu is wrapping a hand around your arm and leaning her head against your shoulder; “glad you’re feeling better, baby. I’m so sorry for being an ass”, you whisper to her. “I can’t stay mad at you for long, oppa, you know this”, Xinyu whispers back. Nakyoung is used to seeing your public display of affection, but Yooyeon, who is hanging out with your bunch for the first time, is not; she’s probably looking away so that she doesn't have to see this. You walk to the elevator and continue to your unit followed by the three girls, until you finally arrive at the door. Xinyu does the honors and unlocks the door before running into the bedroom. “Welcome to our little apartment, girls. Please make yourself at home”, you stand to the side and let them in. Nakyoung, as she has promised earlier, runs straight to your sofa and lies down on it, “Little apartment, my ass—oh my God, it’s so comfortable; this thing must be mad expensive. Unnie, come here, what are you doing?”, she invites Yooyeon who’s standing awkwardly in the doorway. “You can go with her, Yooyeon-ah. Please, make yourself comfortable”, you encourage her.

You then make your way to the bedroom to follow Xinyu and close the door behind you, you see that she has ditched her shirt for a white sleeveless tee that fits her perfect body like a bespoke glove. “I know you bought me snacks. Show me where they are or I will, I will—what’s a good one—not kiss you for the rest of the day”, she knows she can’t threaten you to save her life, so she must improvise to make herself sound scary. You chuckle and fish a bar of chocolate and a bunch of chips out of the bag, “for you, princess”. “Oh my God, chocolate too?! Thank you, oppa, you’re the best!”, she happily accepts your tribute and rips open a bag of chips. You peck the girl who’s munching so enthusiastically on the forehead, “anything for you, love. My world is dark without you”. Xinyu blushes at your words, “I can say the same about you, oppa. You know that right?”. You open your mouth to answer her, but that’s when you hear a knock on the door. “Oppa, Xinyu-yah, are you guys done having sex? Yooyeon-unnie wants to talk”, Nakyoung says from the other side of the door.

Xinyu rushes out of the bedroom and flicks Nakyoung’s forehead, “we were not having sex, God damn it!”. You follow Xinyu out of the bedroom and head to the dining table, “play nice, girls. Come, we can talk here”, you call out to your friends. Yooyeon joins you on the table, followed by Xinyu and Nakyoung who have broken their little scuffle. “Before we start”, you poke Xinyu on the shoulder, “order some pizza for us, sweetie. We can get your favorite”. Xinyu runs back to the bedroom to get her phone and order her favorite pizza—food is truly the bullet train to her heart (and pants but we’ll save that for later). She high-steps her way to the table to join you, seemingly excited at the prospect of having her favorite pizza. She stops next to you and pecks you on the cheek, “I love you”, she says. “I love you more, sweetie. Sit, please”, you pull a chair for her. Nakyoung sighs, “I know you just joined us, unnie, but I guarantee that you’ll get tired of seeing these two act like this very soon”. “Oh, uh, I personally find it cute, actually. I’m happy for them; I hope I can experience that myself one day”, Yooyeon confesses before looking away.

“It’s nothing crazy, really”, Yooyeon starts, “I was just curious about your council’s plans to welcome the new members of your own. I-I was thinking maybe I discuss it if that’s okay with you guys”. Xinyu gets excited hearing those words, “of course, unnie. We would love that”. “Can you tell me a summary first?”, Yooyeon says. You tell her how you and Xinyu plan to do a 3-day trip to the nearby island that also happens to be a famous tourism destination. Nakyoung helps explain the schedule and agendas that she and another council member have come up with. Lastly, Xinyu explains other details such as logistics, methods of transportation, and accommodation; “we are prohibiting alcohol for this trip, by the way. The last thing we need is some drunk freshmen fucking things up”, she adds. “How do you plan to do that, exactly?”, Yooyeon inquires. “Well, I called the manager of the accomodation and specifically and precisely asked them to not sell anyone from our group alcohol and to notify ask should someone try”, Xinyu explains.

Yooyeon gets up from her seat and asks for your permission to get water, so you tell her to get some from the dispenser in the kitchen. She then gets back in her seat and starts talking again. “So, president, vice president, and—what are you again?”, Yooyeon turns to Nakyoung, who lets out a frustrated grunt, “Oh, God damn it—I’m the secretary and the third wheel to the president and vice president. Remember that, please”. “Right, sorry”, Yooyeon clears her throat, “The reason I wanted to talk to you guys is because I have some potential candidates that might be able to join you guys in the council at the university level”. “Okay, go on”, you encourage her to keep talking. “They initially wanted to join us at the faculty, but we couldn’t accept them simply because we were full. I was thinking that maybe these two can thrive under your flag instead”. “Names, unnie?”, Nakyoung asks as she pulls out her phone to write their names. “Seo Dahyun, born in ‘03, and Kim Chaeyeon, born in ‘04”, Yooyeon says, “Dahyun had to retake the SAT for the second time; that’s why it took her a bit longer to get here, but that fact doesn’t take anything away from her, I assure you”.

Yooyeon obviously knows these people better than anyone in the room, since she knows them and has interviewed them personally, so the three of you decide to trust her perception of them. Xinyu arranges an interview for each of them tomorrow at noon—no precise time yet since you’ll need to confirm their schedules with each of them. Yooyeon gives Nakyoung their numbers and she starts hitting them up on CocoaSpeak. “One more thing, Jisung-ah”, she looks at you, “I want to be in the room where it happens”. “Sure, you can be there with us for the interview”, you say to her. “Won’t that be too intimidating?”, Xinyu utters her concern. Yooyeon shakes her head in disagreement, “these two don’t get intimidated easily, they’ll be fine”.

You hear a buzz from the door, so you ask Xinyu to get the pizza from the delivery guy. You make sure to pay attention to the exchange because Xinyu has had a bad experience with a degenerate delivery guy who thought that she was attractive and decided to take his 1-in-a-billion chance. You understand that you can take the pizza yourself but letting her do it helps Xinyu overcome her trauma as she knows that you have her back. Xinyu slams the door a bit too roughly and runs back towards the dining table. “I present to you, the Zhou Xinyu Special!”, she opens the box and puts it down on the table. Yooyeon keeps staring at the large pizza on the table in confusion, until Nakyoung notices and pokes her in the arm to get her attention, “it’s a pizza with ground beef, pepperoni, mushroom, and extra cheese, unnie—they use a lot of cheese, hence the pie-like visual”. “Ah, I see”, Yooyeon nods after hearing the explanation.

You take a slice from the box and start eating, followed by the three girls. “I’ve eaten this pizza so often, but it still amazes me every time. You really know your way around food, don’t you, Xinyu-yah?”, Nakyoung remarks. “Of course, food is the second thing I love the most in this world after oppa”, Xinyu says before exclaiming at the taste of her favorite pizza. “I love you too”, you wipe your mouth with a napkin before pecking Xinyu on the cheek. Xinyu blushes after hearing your words and receiving a peck, as she tries to hide her face behind the slice of pizza in her hand. “You two are so cute”, Yooyeon comments, not helping Xinyu overcome the heat on her cheeks.

The four of you start talking about a bunch of topics, from how Yooyeon initially wanted to join the university’s council but got rejected, how Nakyoung met Yooyeon for the first time and thought that she was a cold and scary person, and, at Yooyeon’s request, how you and Xinyu started dating. You explain that you had known Xinyu for a while as a fellow member of the council during freshman year but only admired her from afar. The two of you were then placed in the same group for a community service project the president at the time had come up with. “Xinyu was crying alone after the first day because of how exhausting and hard it was, so I mustered up the courage to approach her and offered to take her to dinner because I always hate seeing a girl cry, no matter what reason she might have. I actually was so scared that she would push me away instead of taking my offer”, you explain to the small crowd in front of you. It’s now Xinyu’s time to tell her side of the story; “I saw how kind oppa really is behind his rich guy façade; he was super helpful and attentive to everyone that day and there was no way I would’ve pushed him away—I wanted him for myself”. Xinyu leans against your shoulder before continuing her speech, “After our first time having sex, he revealed that I was his first and all I could think about was how I hoped he had been my first as well—I’m so sorry, oppa”. You squeeze her hand, “there’s nothing to be sorry for, love. You’re here with me now”.

Everyone has dispersed from the dining table and is now in their own worlds. Yooyeon is looking at notes on her tablet, Nakyoung is lying on the sofa with her eyes closed, Xinyu is chilling in the bedroom, and you’re sitting on the toilet with your phone in hand. You’re mindlessly scrolling through social media until you see a notification from Xinyu. It’s a picture of her lying in bed in her pajamas with one of the dolls you bought for her. “How cute”, you think to yourself. She sees that you’re not replying to her, so she expresses her unhappiness, “>: say something already”. “I’m busy, bby”, you reply to her before flushing the toilet and cleaning your ass. You’re on your way to the bathroom door as it swings open seemingly on its own. Xinyu barges into the bathroom and locks the door behind her. She puts her hands on your chest and pushes you to the wall, “if you won’t give me the attention I want, I’ll get it myself”. She pulls your shorts and boxers down together as she kneels in front of you, making your cock spring out of its restraints instantly.

“We could’ve done so much more had you given me the attention I wanted”, she’s doing her best to instill regret and guilt in your heart. Her hand is wrapped around your cock tightly and you don’t want to make her mad even more because you don’t want her to break your cock. “P-princess, they’re still here. We can do this later”, you persuade her. “I don’t care, they can go suck cock if they want”, she says before taking you in her mouth. The wetness and warmth of Xinyu’s mouth sends shivers down your spine. You dare hold her hair in your hand as she bobs her head up and down your shaft while gagging every now and then. “P-princess”, you mutter before moaning, “you’re so good, baby”. She instantly removes you from her mouth and squeezes your cock, “stay quiet if you want to make it out of this alive”. “Oh, fuck—I’m-I’m sorry, please don’t break my penis”, you say to the angry-but-horny girl kneeling in front of you.

She accepts your apology for now and gets back to stuffing her face with your cock. You don’t want to upset her considering how vulnerable you are at the moment, so you do nothing but moan. She removes your cock from her mouth once again when she feels it twitch in her mouth, “I’ll let you cum if you ask nicely”. You take a deep breath before ‘asking nicely’, “please let me cum, princess”. “Not good enough, but I’ll take it for now”, she says before letting you in her mouth once again. It doesn’t take long until your cum is accumulated on the tip of your cock. Xinyu knows this, so she goes deeper until she reaches the base of your cock. “I’m cum-ming”, you say with heavy breaths, “princess, please”. Your cock blows a load as soon as you say that, and Xinyu tries her best to not let a drop leak out of her mouth.

You lean back against the wall to catch your breath, feeling drained—quite literally—by Xinyu’s little stunt. You look down at Xinyu who is still on her knees, and you see her gulp down your load into her stomach. “Xinyu, baby”, you say with heavy pants, “thank you, that was really good”. “Of course, oppa. I love you—I’ll drain your soul the next time you ignore me, though”, she rises to her feet and wipes her mouth before pecking your cheek. “Now how do we get out of this place?”, you ask her for ideas. “Just walk out, we’re adults”, she shrugs. You do as she suggested and walk out of the bathroom as casually as possible. Yooyeon sees the two of you walking out together and covers her face with some papers. You see Xinyu give her a wink and gesture to her to stay quiet.

Xinyu then walks to the sofa and poke Nakyoung in the arm, “Naky-yah, are you staying the night or what?”. Nakyoung wakes up slowly from her peaceful nap on your sofa, “hngh, what time is it?”. You look at the clock above the TV, “about 7.30 pm”, you tell the sleepy cat. Nakyoung rises and walks to the fridge like a zombie, “I’m tempted to stay but I imagine you two want some private time”, she says. You can tell that her playfulness hasn’t returned to her entirely, as shown by how she hasn’t bantered or teased anyone yet. She takes a few gulps of fridge-cold water out of her bottle—she visits your apartment a lot so a few months ago she decided to leave a bottle in your fridge so that she wouldn’t drink from one of yours—and turns to you, “did you guys have fun when I was asleep?”. Xinyu answers her right away with confidence, “I did—I don’t know about oppa, though”, she says, hinting at sex. Nakyoung smirks as she walks back to the sofa, “if you had fun, then so did oppa, most likely”.

Nakyoung spends another 30 minutes lying on your sofa while on her phone, while Yooyeon is still busy with studying. “Unnie, I think we should leave soon”, she says to the studying goddess as she gets up. “Hm? Oh, yeah, sure”, Yooyeon says as she starts tidying up her papers and tablet. Nakyoung takes Yooyeon’s hand and walks to the door with her. “Thank you for the hospitality, you two”, Yooyeon bows slightly and waves at you and Xinyu. “You should hang out with us more, Yooyeon-ah. See you at the interview— byeee”, you say as they exit the door and close it behind them.

Seeing that the coast is now clear, Xinyu runs to you and jumps at you, so you catch her with both arms. “I’m tired, oppa. Take me to bed, please”, she says with a cute whiny voice. You peck her temple and carry her to the bed as requested. You set Xinyu on the bed with you on top of her body, and she immediately wraps her long limbs around your body. “Stay, please”, she says, acting cute to convince you to do what she wants, “I can feel you poking me down there, by the way”. It’s not that you’re horny, it’s just that you’re long—almost too long, “I’m sorry, sweetie”. “I’m horny and tired at the same time, which one do I choose, oppa?”, she pinches your cheek playfully. “I suggest sleeping, love. I don’t know if I have another load for you and I would hate to disappoint”, you kiss her forehead apologetically. “Hmph you’re no fun, oppa, but I love you so I’ll listen to you”, Xinyu pouts and lets you go from her strangling limbs.

It is now Friday. You and the usual suspects will be interviewing the candidates that Yooyeon told you about a few days ago. Nakyoung gave each candidate freedom to choose the place of the interview, and they both chose the multipurpose meeting room in the library building, so now you and Xinyu make your way to the appointed place—one problem, though: there’s quite a commotion in front of the meeting room. “You’re holding an interview, aren’t you? I know you are. Why aren’t you letting me in?”, the guy is shouting at Nakyoung who’s holding the line at the door. You see that Nakyoung is in deep distress, but you want to observe the situation a little bit more before jumping in. That is when you see the guy lay his hands on Nakyoung, which you’re not a fan of—Xinyu’s friends are your friends, and you’re not letting harm come their way. “Listen to her and just leave, man. We’ll pretend this never happened”, you say with a serious voice and grab him by the shoulder.

Surprisingly, the guy thinks that it’s a good idea to get violent and punches you in the face as he turns around, “SHUT THE FUCK UP”, he yells out. Nothing could’ve prepared you for a punch in the face, so you took a few steps back in surprise. Xinyu rushes to your aid in panic while screaming, “oh my God, oppa! Oppa, are you okay? Somebody, get security!”. “Holy shit, you’re so fucked”, Nakyoung says to the guy, who only now figured out who he just punched, “out of all the people present, you chose to punch the president—absolutely incredible. You still expect us to accept you after seeing you act like this? We will make your life miserable for this, by the way; we don’t forget”. The guy approaches you slowly in fear, “I-I’m so sorry, sunbaenim, I don’t know what got into me. Are you okay?”. You sigh in disappointment, not because you just took a punch in the face, but because someone thought it was okay to be violent, especially on campus grounds. “I suggest finding a lawyer”, you say, angriness obvious in your voice. He kneels and bows in front of you to beg for forgiveness, “no, no, please. I’m so sorry. I’ve learned my lesson, sunbaenim, please”. You hear the boots of the security guards approaching, so you say your last piece to the brat, “you have not, but you will soon”.

Once you see that the security guards have control of the situation, you leave the scene and forcefully drag Xinyu and Nakyoung by their wrists into the room. “Op-oppa, you’re hurting me; please let go”, Nakyoung tries to pry your fingers off her wrist. You didn’t realize that you were holding their hands so tightly, so you let them go and apologize. “Thank you for saving me, guys”, Nakyoung sobs as she hugs Xinyu for comfort, “he-he was so adamant, and I got so scared”. “I’m glad he decided to punch me and not one of you”, you sigh, “where is Yooyeon, by the way?”. “I’m here”, Yooyeon says as she closes the door behind her, “what just happened? Why are there security guards?”. “Someone thought it was a good idea to punch Jisung-oppa”, Xinyu explains to the confused girl. Yooyeon shakes her head and sighs, “are you okay, Jisung-ah?”. You rub the spot where the punch landed and reply to her, “I’ll be fine—it hurts, though”.

You take a few minutes to catch your breath and process everything that just happened while Xinyu, Yooyeon, and Nakyoung brief each other about the upcoming interview. You soon hear some knocks on the door and a girl peeks into the room, “excuse me, we’re here for the interview”. “Oh, hello, you guys must be Dahyun and Chaeyeon”, Nakyoung greets them and lets them in. Dahyun gasps in surprise when she sees your face, “oh God, what happened to you, sunbaenim? Why is there a bruise on your face?”. “We can talk about that as we go. Please, have a seat and stop calling me and everyone else in this room ‘sunbaenim’. We’ll interview you guys at the same time, I hope that’s okay”, you gesture to the empty chairs on the round table, and they take a seat in them. “So, there’s something I need to explain before we start”, you start the conversation, “you guys are here because Governor Kim over here recommended that you be considered to be recruited into the university council because her faculty council is full”. They turn to Yooyeon and express their appreciation to her, which makes Yooyeon smile in shyness.

You take the first turn to ask them a bunch of questions, from what makes them interested in joining the council, what they think the council should be for students and the surrounding community, and if they’ll interested in becoming the president in the future. They answer each question with some of the best answers you’ve ever heard in your term as president, and you can tell that everyone in the room is impressed and is starting to like them. Xinyu and Nakyoung then take turns asking them questions of their own while Yooyeon opts to observe and listen in silence.

Once they’re done asking questions and getting answers, it’s the recruits’ turn to ask questions. Dahyun kicks off the session by asking you about your wound, “can I ask what happened to your face, oppa?”. “You can, Dahyun-ah”, you sigh, “someone punched me in the face after screaming at Nakyoung-ie because she didn’t let him join the interview—disappointing behavior, if you ask me”. Xinyu moves to you in her chair and grabs your hand, “are you actually pressing charges, oppa? I would love it if you did—no one gets to punch my boyfriend like that”. “He’s your boyfriend, unnie?”, Chaeyeon asks the vice president. Xinyu brings a palm to her forehead, “oh, right, I forgot that you’re not in our circle yet—yes, he is, and I love him and I hate seeing him get hurt. We’ll go get some ointment after this, oppa, okay?”. “The president and vice president are dating, unnie. Are we in a drama right now?”, Chaeyeon turns to Dahyun, who lets out a giggle.

The six of you spend more time getting to know each other better as individuals, and you can tell again that everyone is really interested in having them join the council and this small circle of yours. Nakyoung explicitly tells them about it; “I know we only met today but I know that everyone here likes the two of you, so I sincerely ask you to consider joining our little friend group once you’re formally accepted as members of the council. Your cute little governor here is also with us, by the way”, she says—the way she’s saying it makes it sound like it’s a circle of nepotism with leading figures of the council and a bunch of new recruits. Dahyun shyly accepts the invitation, “we would love that, unnie. Thank you for being so kind to juniors like us”.

The interview is now done, and you find yourself surrounded by 5 girls outside the library. “Oppa, I’m hungry. Can we get lunch?”, Xinyu tugs your hand. “We can, sweetie. Wanna invite the others as well?”, you reply to her. Xinyu turns to the others, “guys, we’re gonna go get lunch, wanna join us?”. Nakyoung and Yooyeon obviously nod in agreement, but Dahyun and Chaeyeon are hesitant. “You two can join us as well, no need to be shy. We’re your friends, just a bit older in age”, you say to them. Chaeyeon answers for herself and Dahyun, “we would love that, oppa, if that’s okay with you”. Nakyoung pinches Chaeyeon’s cheeks playfully, “we’re friends, God damn it. Start acting accordingly, will you?”. You lead them to your car that’s parked in the campus’ parking lot—the parking lot is not as packed on Fridays since the professors are usually doing other stuff off campus, and you managed to find one because you arrived early. Chaeyeon makes a comment when she sees your car, “OF COURSE HE’S RICH—oh my God, I’m so sorry, oppa”. You chuckle at her comment, “it’s okay, I’ve heard that a lot before. Come on, let’s get in”.

You find yourself sailing the slow sea of Friday afternoon traffic, thankfully it’s not as bad as usual. “Does anyone have any idea where we should go?”, you ask the crowd in your car. Dahyun raises her hands after mustering up as much confidence as she can, “can we go get burgers, oppa? There’s a good burger shop nearby—if-if everyone else agrees, that is”. Xinyu is the most excited one at the prospect, “we sure can, I looove burgers. Drive faster, oppa!”. You laugh at her words, “just admit that you love everything, sweetie”.

Dahyun wasn’t lying when she said it was near, as you are now parked in front of an alleyway where the burger shop is. “We’ve been students for so long, but we’ve never heard about this shop once”, you remark. Dahyun shyly confesses to the group, “Th-this place is my parents’, oppa. I-I wanted to promote my parents’ business since they only opened recently, I’m sorry”. Xinyu rushes to hug Dahyun from the side, “awww, how cute. You’re such a good daughter, Dahyun-ah”. Dahyun hides her face behind her palms before replying to Xinyu, “you’re so kind, unnie”. “Now you know why people fall for her, Dahyun-ah”, you say, bragging about your lovely girlfriend to your new friend.

Dahyun leads you into the shop and runs towards the cashier to hug the lady attending it. “Everyone, this is my mom, you can call her Mrs. Seo—duh. Mom, this the council’s president, vice president, secretary, and governor—obviously you know Chaeyeon already. We just became friends today”, she introduces everyone to her mom by pointing at you one by one. “Aigoo, you brought your friends, Dahyun-ah? Welcome, kids—oh my God, what happened to your face? Also, you don’t need to pay today since you’re Dahyun’s friends”, Dahyun’s mom says to your group. You don’t want to not pay, considering how much your friends eat and the fact that your friend’s parents own the place; “It’s a bit of a long story, madam. We would hate to not pay; we eat a lot, you see”, you try to convince her mom. “Okay but promise us you’ll come back. Now what can I get for you?”, Mrs. Seo asks you. You turn to Dahyun, who most likely knows what’s best here, “you have any recommendations, Dahyun-ah?”. “I mean, I think everything is good but I’m very biased”, she giggles.

Since this is your first time here, you decide to choose whatever catches your fancy, which happens to be a double cheeseburger with portobella mushroom and beef bacon. Everyone else then takes turns to order before leaving to find a place to sit together. Mrs. Seo tells you to join two tables together since they only have 4 chairs each, so you do as she says. While you wait, you decide to talk with your friends—you know, like friends do.

It takes about 20 minutes for the food to come out, not bad at all considering how big of an order it was. Mrs. Seo calls out to Dahyun to help carry the food to your table, so she stands up and heads to the kitchen to help. You see the visuals of each thing on the trays, and you can’t help but drool at the sight. “Holy sh—excuse my language—that looks so good!”, Nakyoung shows her enthusiasm to the food. You see that Yooyeon, who usually shows little emotions, has an excited face as well, and it brings joy to Mrs. Seo. “You are such sweet kids. I’m glad Dahyun can be friends with you”, she says. “The pleasure is ours, madam. Dahyun is such a sweet girl as well”, Xinyu says.

Dahyun and her mom set the trays on the table, and everyone jumps to get their stuff right away. Nakyoung is the first to take a bite, and she exclaims in excitement immediately, “oh my God, this is incredible—Mrs. Seo, this is amazing!”. “Omo, I’m so glad you like it”, she says before putting a big squeeze bottle on the table, “try this with the fries, will you? We’ve been developing a sauce recipe and would love to hear some feedback—Chaeyeon-ie has tried this before so she knows already”. Xinyu squeezes the sauce on a piece of fry and shoves it in her mouth, “oh my, that is glorious. What sauce is this, Mrs. Seo? Oppa, try this, quick!”. You take the bottle from Xinyu’s hands and do the same thing she did, and you instantly let out a satisfied groan thanks to the taste. “it’s minced garlic, chives, and white pepper mixed with mayonnaise and a little bit of my husband’s hot sauce—you know, you two look so cute together; have you considered dating?”, she explains. “They are indeed dating, madam”, Nakyoung answers for you with a laugh like the spokesperson that she often is. Mrs. Seo gasps, “oh, that’s so cute. Alright, I’m gonna stop bothering you guys—enjoy!”.

No one says anything for the rest of the meal as they savor every glorious bite of their food, letting out excited yelps and satisfied groans at the incredible taste. “Dahyun-ah”, you say after swallowing a bite, “would your parents be interested in getting some investment?”. “Look at him, flexing his wealth in front of his junior”, Nakyoung says. Dahyun’s eyes widen at your unexpected question, “I-I’ll need to ask my parents”, she says. “Can you please ask now? I’m curious what they’d say”, you push further. Dahyun sips her drink before running to the cashier and dragging his mom back to the table. “Mom, mom, president-oppa wants to invest in us!”, Dahyun excitedly says to her mom. Mrs. Seo’s turns her head to you in surprise, “do you actually?”. “I do, madam”, you say, as humble sounding as possible, “I think you can do great things with this business, hence my interest”. “I, I”, you see tears gathering in Mrs. Seo’s eyes, “thank you for the kind words, son. Yes, we would love to get an investment—what are the terms, though?”. “My family’s treasurer will reach out to your family in less than 7 business days, madam. You can discuss the terms with her—I’ll make sure it’s more favorable to you than me”, you say to her. “Please stand up, son”, Mrs. Seo says to you, so you do as she says. She hugs you warmly as she’s shedding (you hope) happy tears, “thank you so much, son; it means a lot to our family. How rich are you that your family has a treasurer, though?”. You answer her question with the answer your parents have taught you since you were a kid, “we are comfortable, madam”. She lets go of the hug and wipes her eyes, “I gotta call my husband; this is crazy! Dahyun-ah, isn’t this crazy?”. Dahyun bows to you, “thank you so much, oppa. We won’t forget your kindness”. You’re surprised to see her bow to you, so you grab her shoulders and make her straighten her back, “oh, c’mon, there’s no need to act like that”.

You excuse yourself and head to the back alley behind the shop to call your family’s treasurer, Mrs. Kwon Yuri. She picks up immediately after one ring, “Good afternoon, Mr. Jung. Can I help you?”. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Kwon”, you greet her, “I’m planning to make an investment in a burger shop owned by my friend’s family. Can you please handle it for me? I’ll send you their number after this”. Mrs. Kwon stays silent for a few seconds, but you hear her keyboard clacking over the phone, “I can, Mr. Jung; I will reach out to them in two days”. You feel a wave of relief in your heart, “sounds great, Mrs. Kwon. Be sure to make it favorable for them, please—5 or 10 percent is fine. Thanks for the help”. You send her their number after hanging up and with it, your investment will soon be confirmed, and they’ll get a small boost to grow their business.

Unbeknownst to you, Xinyu has been hiding around the corner waiting for you to end the call. She runs to you when she hears you hang up the phone and hugs you tightly. “My God, that is so sexy, oppa”, she says. “What is, baby?”, you say, unsure about what she’s referring to. “The fact that you’re willing to use your money to help someone else. I know it’s probably spare change for you but it’s still meaningful”, she looks at you straight in the eyes as her hands are on each side of your head. ”I was just trying to help, it’s not like they don’t deserve it—I mean, you know how good their stuff is”, you tell her. “Oh, I know, but you know what else is good?”, she smiles at you. “No?”, you say, oblivious. “My boyfriend’s lips on mine”, she says before pressing her lips against yours. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t like kissing Xinyu but kissing her in broad daylight in a back alley feels scandalous. You let your lips stay pressed against Xinyu’s for what feels like a few seconds before you push her away. “Baby, we can’t afford to get caught”, you bargain. “You’re right”, she sighs, “we’ll continue this later”.

You take her hand and enter the shop again. You see Dahyun and her mom crying while a man, who you assume is Mr. Seo, tries to calm them down. Dahyun then points a finger to you and the man walks up to you and reaches his hand out to shake yours. “You must be Jung Jisung”, the man says, “I’m Dahyun’s dad. Thank you so much for your help, son. It means a lot to us”. You’re surprised by how Dahyun’s family is reacting to your little feat, “I-I just wanted to help, sir. My friends and I really like the products your family is selling here”. Mr. Seo pulls you into a hug and you see that Nakyoung and Chaeyeon are leaning against Yooyeon’s shoulders on each side while sobbing. “What is happening, man?”, you think to yourself. Mr. Seo lets you go after a few seconds and shakes your hand one more time; “I need to go; I have two ladies to attend to”, he says, referring to his wife and daughter who are still weeping.

You sit down at the table again and ask your friends about what happened when you were away for that short a time. “They-they told us how hard it was to start this business, oppa”, Nakyoung holds back a sob before continuing, “they-they had to take a bunch of loans and barely had customers at the start—our tab today is one of the biggest ones they’ve had so far. Dahyun even had to do several part-time jobs to help her family’s economy”. Chaeyeon is making it obvious that she’s the most sensitive person in the friend group, as she cries even more after hearing Nakyoung’s summary of what has just happened. “They were over the moon when you said you were going to invest, and now the emotions have finally caught up to them”, Yooyeon says before wiping her eyes with a napkin. You realize that this is what your parents have been preaching for your whole life: to be able to help someone with what you have—especially money—no matter how big or small it is. You silently praise your parents and pray to whatever celestial being is up there for their health and safety.

You wait until everyone has calmed down before walking to the cashier to pick up the tab. “Ji-Jisung-ah”, Mrs. Seo’s emotions are still high as she keeps sobbing after all this time, “are you 100% sure you’re going to invest in us?”. “I am sure, madam. I’ve called the treasurer; she’ll reach out in two days. It’s the least I can do to help, madam”. Mrs. Seo opens her arms and hugs you, “thank you, son; thank you so much”. You close your eyes and savor the genuine emotions she’s showing you, “the pleasure is mine, madam; believe me”. She lets go and fiddles with the computer in front of her, “since you insisted on paying, everything will be ₩50.000 and I’m giving you a 10% discount—so what is that, then?”. Your eyes widen in surprise when you hear her words, “wait, no, no, no. Please, there’s no need for that”. You argue back and forth with Mrs. Seo until she agrees not to give you a discount. You hand her two ₩50.000 banknotes and tell her to keep the rest, which makes her bawl her eyes out again. You’re starting to feel terrible for making these people cry so much today, so you awkwardly walk back to the table so that you can get your friends to leave with you.

Everyone stands up when they’re finally ready to leave and file out of the door one by one except for Dahyun. Before it’s your turn to leave, Mr. Seo pulls you to the side and hugs you one more time. “Thank you for everything, Jisung-ah”, Mr. Seo says to your ear, “I would offer you my Dahyun but I was told that you have a girlfriend already”. Your eyes widen in shock, “That won’t be necessary ever, Mr. Seo. I don’t even know if Dahyun likes me like that—also she’s not anyone’s property, respectfully”, you whisper in his ear. He lets go of you and shakes your hand softly, so you reciprocate his gesture and do the same. “Oppa”, Dahyun calls out to you, “thank you so much for everything, seriously. I promise I’ll do my best in the council; I’ll do whatever you guys ask me to”. You smile at her, “I know you will, Dahyun-ah. I can tell that you’re a hardworking person as well”. Dahyun looks at the door and makes sure that the coast is clear before hugging you. “I know you have Xinyu-unnie but please let me have this for now”, she then gets on her tippy toes and pecks your cheek, which makes the two of you blush at the same time. “Thank you, Dahyun-ah. I wish you and everyone health and safety. See you soon, okay?”, you make to leave the restaurant and catch up with your friends.

You get back in the car and start driving again; everyone except Xinyu (obviously) asks you to take them back to campus, so you do as they ask and take them back there. They get off at the campus gate and wave at you as you leave, and now you’re left alone with Xinyu. “Let’s go home, oppa”, she says before reaching over and palming your cock, “I’m so fucking horny, oppa—if you hadn’t stopped me back in the alley, I would’ve got on my knees and sucked your cock”. You can feel your cock getting hard and your patience running thin, so you take a deep breath before replying to Xinyu, “patience, princess; we’ll get home before you know it”. You hope that your words were good enough to convince her to be patient, but they apparently weren’t, as she keeps palming your cock the rest of the way home.

You make it back to the parking lot of your building again. You stand next to the car and wait for Xinyu to get off. Instead of taking her hand and walk side by side, you lift her by her thighs and carry her to your destination. “You’re not getting away with being such a brat—you wanna palm my cock because you’re horny? Fine, I’ll show you horny”, you whisper aggressively in her ear. “You’re gonna make me pay, daddy?”, she whispers back, her voice laced with lust. You rush to your apartment and enter the bedroom straight away. Your lust-controlled brain doesn’t want to play nice, as it makes you drop Xinyu on the bed not-too-softly. Xinyu bites her bottom lip; “I like it when you’re rough”, she says, trying to rile you up more. You want to talk dirty with her, but you’re given another idea instead; “let’s make a deal: if you can make it through this session without cumming, I’ll buy you whatever you want—including Dahyun’s restaurant. Now pick a fucking safe word”. You take off everything you have on your body in front of her, and she bites her lip again, “Oh please, just who exactly do you think I am? Just come and punish me, daddy; use me, stretch me, choke me, cum in me—do whatever pleases you and I’ll take it like a good girl, because I am one”.

You pull her off the bed and onto her feet; “strip”, you command. “Yes, daddy” is her reply; short, but laden with obedience. She takes her sweet time to take off each thing and tries putting on a show for you, but since you’re now thinking with your cock and not your brain, you’re getting impatient; “I told you to strip, princess, not to take off your clothes”, you say as you palm her neck and squeeze it slightly while glaring right into her eyes—she’s taller than most people but you still tower over her (shoutout to dad for his genes). You see that she’s starting to get intimidated but still has her strong girl façade on, “hngh—patience, daddy, plea-please”. You let her neck go and she takes the rest of her clothes seemingly nervously, as seen by how her hands shake as she’s doing it. Xinyu gets back in bed when nothing is on her body, now ready to start the session. As much as you’re horny and rough, you’re never one to act without consent, so you ask the seemingly scared girl in your bed, “are you okay? Was I too mean? Do you want to keep going?”. “N-no, you’re okay—I’m okay”, she takes a deep breath and welcomes you to bed.

You get on top of her and start sucking and nibbling her neck, marking it with your lips as she moans and sighs at the contact. “You love marking me, right, daddy?”, she eggs you on, “you like showing people who I belong to, don’t you?”. You leave her neck when you see that it has a red spot on the side, knowing that it will turn into a decently sized hickey tomorrow, “Uh-huh; they’ll know if they haven’t already”, you say to her, “if you cover it with makeup, I will make you sleep on the sofa for a month”. She pleas her case, “but what if my professors see it?”. You shrug, “we’re adults—your words, not mine. Now stay still, I have things to do”.

You move to her breasts, putting one in your mouth while fondling the other. Xinyu has always been sensitive there, so you know it’ll be plenty of stimulation for her. “Daddy”, she sighs, “why do you like my breasts so much?”. You lift your mouth off so you can reply to her; “because they fit in my hands so well”, you palm a breast; a perfect handful in your hand, “can you feel how perfect it is in my hand?”. Xinyu nods to your question, “ye-yes, daddy; they’re perfect for you, just like the rest of my body”. “Good answer, princess—you should be able to feel this as well”, you pinch a nipple and tug, making Xinyu scream instantly, “oh, fuck, fuck—the-they’re sensitive, daddy”. You chuckle, “I know they are, but you’re mine to play with”.

You play with her tits a bit more before moving on. You opt to skip her tummy (no matter how firm and soft it looks) and go straight to her pussy. “Open your legs, princess”, you command her, and she instantly spread her long legs enough for you to fit your head between them. “I-I hope you like what you see”, she says with a blush on her cheeks. Honestly, how can you not like the sight despite having seen it a lot—her perfectly pink and glistening pussy is making you drool, literally. You dive into her pussy right away; your tongue is pressed against her entrance, threatening to invade it while your index finger is on her nub. Xinyu starts moaning and squirming around as you start licking her pussy, so you hold down her thighs so that you don’t miss your target. “Remember to hold your cum”, you remind the moaning girl. Her heavy breathing makes it hard for her to verbally answer you, so she just nods to your say.

“Op-oppa”, she calls out with heavy pants, “you-you’re gonna make me cum if you keep doing that”. You lift your face off her crotch and look at her in disbelief, “is that supposed to be a threat? You dare threat me, you slut? That’s the wrong name too, by the way”. Xinyu panics, “no-no, daddy; I would never—oh, fuck—I would never threaten you, I swear”. You plunge two fingers into her pussy, “that’s what I thought”. “Oh, fuck—daddy, please”, she lets out whiny moans. You know that she’s doing her best to hold off her orgasm, and you praise her for her efforts; even good girls have their limits, and hers is very close. You keep fucking her with your fingers until you feel her pussy squeeze them, indicating that she’s having her orgasm soon. True enough, she screams from the top of her lungs after a few seconds, “I’M-I’M CUMMING, FUCK!”. You pull your fingers out as she squirts her juices out and stroke her thighs to help her calm down. It takes a few minutes of moaning and whining until her mind is cleared and her high is dissipated. “You came”, you say with a fake disappointed voice. Realization of what just happened slaps her in the face, “I’m so sorry, daddy; please don’t punish me, I beg you. I-I’ll give you my mouth, I’ll give you my asshole—anything you want. Just don’t punish me, please”. “There’s no way she’s offering you her ass”, your brain says, “she’s never trained for it, has she? She’ll never be able to take your cock there—don’t take it, son”.

You decide to keep her in the dark and not tell her that you’re not getting in her ass because you’re naughty like that. “On your stomach, princess”, you command her, and you see that she’s nervous because she’s clueless as to what you have in mind. “I’m so dead; we’ve never trained my ass before and he’s getting in there—this is why you don’t run your mouth, Zhou Xinyu”, Xinyu thinks to herself. She gets even more scared when you lift her ass but not the rest of her body. You make her think that you’re going in her ass by asking her to spread her cheeks. Xinyu’s fear peaks when you put your thumb on her asshole and slather spit on it—she even sheds a tear because she’s that scared. “Look at it”, you say, “that must be so tight and snug”. “I guess this is how I die”, she thinks as more tears are released from her eyes, “he’s going in there dry, too—fuck, this will hurt like a bitch”. You remove your thumb and announce to her that you’re going in, so she closes her eyes and braces for the pain. To her surprise, you decide to plunge into her pussy instead, so Xinyu lets out a loud moan immediately; “oh, God, daddy, yes, yes—I’m your good girl, daddy”. A wave of relief washes over Xinyu; “he’s not getting in my ass!”, she thinks to herself.

You lean forward and whisper in Xinyu’s ear, “you thought I was gonna take your ass, didn’t you, princess?”. She moans before answering you, “ye-yes, daddy. I-I was so scared”. You laugh at her; you’d think she would know by now that you’d never do anything without her explicit and clear consent, but here she is, scared shitless at the prospect of losing her anal virginity to you. “I might not be taking your ass today, but I’m taking your pussy”, you say before pulling her gloriously thick jet-black hair. “It’s yours, daddy—I’m yours; take me anytime you want—oh, fuck, that’s so fucking deep”, she replies. You press Xinyu’s head into the pillow, “I’m cumming in your pussy and I want you to keep it in”. You feel her nod against your hand, and you pick up the pace of your thrusts.

You keep pumping her pussy deep and fast, just like how you like it. Xinyu is holding the pillow under her head with all her might, her knuckles turning white thanks to how hard she’s gripping it. You feel your lust peaking, so you give her rougher thrusts as your crotch makes clapping sounds when it hits Xinyu’s cheeks. Xinyu is moaning and screaming your name away, as she feels the rough thrusts you’re giving her; “I’m gonna feel this tomorrow”, she says in her head. You can feel your orgasm approaching, so you get in a squatting position without pulling out and keep thrusting into her pussy with all your strength. Xinyu knows this as well, so she eggs you on, “keep stretching me like that, daddy—oh, fuck, you’re in my belly”.

You start feeling tired from fucking her in such position. Thankfully for you, you’re so close to cumming as well. “Princess”, you say with heavy breathing, “I’m so close”. She turns her head to see you over her shoulder, “yes, daddy; I’m so close as well—oh, fuck—please let me cum with you”. You’re reminded of her words a few days ago when you said you were close, and you decide to use it against her, “I’ll let you cum if you ask nicely”. She takes a deep breath so that she can ‘ask nicely’, “daddy, please, let me cum with you—I’m-I’m begging you, daddy”. Satisfied with her answer, you pet her head; “good job, princess”. To make sure that she indeed cums with you, you reach around her waist and rub her clit as you’re fucking her.

Your orgasm finally hits after some more thrusts. You plug your cock deep into her and start shooting your cum deep into Xinyu’s pussy; at the same time, Xinyu’s legs quiver thanks to her second orgasm—no squirting this time, unfortunately. You stand up on the bed after all your cum is released into her; “if you let it leak out, I’m taking your ass”, you threaten her falsely. You know that Xinyu lacks training, so unless she trains her ass, you’re not getting in there—unless she decides to act like a brat again. Xinyu doesn’t know that it was a fake threat, so she keeps her ass up to prevent your cum from leaking out while she tries her best to catch her breath.

You jump off the bed and leave to get water and towel, “be right back, princess”. When you return, she still has her ass up because at heart, she is very obedient and just wants to please her boyfriend as much as she can. “Daddy”, she calls out with teary eyes, “can-can I put my ass down now? I’m s-starting to get tired”. You feel a rush of guilt in your heart because she actually fell for the false threat; “you can, princess. Just relax, okay?”, you say as you guide her waist down by pressing down on the small of her back until she’s flat on the bed. “I’m gonna wipe your body with this towel, okay, princess?”. You see her nod, so you start wiping her body from her nape down to her legs, making sure not to miss a spot as you go. You roll her over onto her back to clean the other side of her body and that’s when you see the messy makeup on her face—solid proof that tears were running down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry, princess”, you stroke her cheeks softly with your thumb, “I was so rough on you, wasn’t I?”. She sniffles before answering you, “you-you were, but it’s okay; nothing I’m not used to”. “Can I clean that makeup for you, or do you want to do it yourself?”, you ask her. She reaches out to grab the towel from your hands and wipe her face with it, “this should be enough”. She then returns the towel to you so you can clean the rest of her body.

“Honey”, you call out to her, “wanna shower or no?”. She sighs in exhaustion, “no, too tired—you can shower if you want”. You jump back in bed and lie next to her; “no, too tired”, you return her words. She gathers all her might and scoots over so that she can cuddle you; “I hope that was satisfactory”, she says. You peck her head, “of course it was. Thank you very much, love”. “I was so scared that you were going to fuck me in the ass, daddy”, she hasn’t dropped the name yet, “you know I’ve never trained my ass so I thought you were gonna take my anal virginity raw and dry—I mean sure, it’s only right that I give you that but I was super scared”. You stroke the back of her head softly, “we can talk about that later, sweetie—just know this: I would never do anything to you without your clear and explicit consent, so until I hear that you’re ready to take me in your ass, I’m not fucking you in the ass. I promise you that”.

She hums in understanding—you can tell that she’s grateful too—but is then reminded about the deal from earlier, “so I guess you’re not buying me whatever I want since I came?”. You let out a chuckle, “what do you want to get, sweetie?”. She blushes when she realizes that she didn’t lose the deal because of how sweet and kind you really are behind all those façades, “oh-oh, um, I-I wa-want burgers and fries from Dahyun’s place again, oppa”. You nod to her, “sure, love. We can go after this if you want”.

You and Xinyu get back in the car after regaining energy and showering, as you two are now on your way to Dahyun’s restaurant for the second time today. When you arrive, you see that Dahyun’s attending the cashier this time. She sees you two in front of the door and rushes to open it for you, “oppa, unnie, welcome back!”. “Hey, baby. Nice to see you again”, Xinyu hugs the girl in front of her. “We promised we would return so here we are”, you say to her. “Where are the others, though?”, Dahyun asks. “No idea; we just had sex at home and came here after cuddling and showering”, Xinyu utters oh-so-brazenly. “OH MY GOD! UNNIE!”, Dahyun covers her ears and runs away from the two of you. You palm your face, “I’m so sorry, Dahyun-ah; you didn’t need to hear all that”. Dahyun fans her cheeks with her hands to fight her blush, “oh my, how could you say that so casually—wh-what can I get for you guys this time?”. You pinch Xinyu’s cheek for her little shenanigan before turning to Dahyun and repeat your order from this afternoon; “oh, can we get 2 more fries and that sauce again? So 4 fries in total and the sauce”, you ask her. “Of course you can, oppa. Please wait at the table for your food”.

Dahyun brings a tray of food to you after about 15 minutes. She thinks that she can waltz away after that, so you call out to her, “where on God’s green earth do you think you’re going, Dahyun-ah?”. Surprised to hear you call her that way, she walks back to you your table awkwardly, “I-I’m sorry?”. “Why do you think we ordered 4 burgers?”, you point at the empty seat next to Xinyu, “have a seat with us. We can have a little chit-chat—you can get back to work if there’s another customer coming”. “Uwuwu, my baby”, Xinyu peppers Dahyun’s face with pecks. “I’m sorry, oppa, but is unnie always like this?”, Dahyun asks you. “No, only to people she likes”, you say with a smile, indicating to her that she’s one of those people.

No other customer ends up coming, so you have the entire restaurant to yourselves. “Dahyun-ah, would you be able to cater for the entire council? I would love to introduce your products to our staffs”, you say before shoving another piece of fry coated in sauce, “holy shit, that is glorious—you know what, we’ll pay for this bottle of sauce since we’re probably finishing this”. “Oppa”, she says with a soft voice, “you.. are you serious?”. You’re not sure what she’s talking about, “pardon?”. “Are you serious about asking us to cater for the council? That’d be, like, our biggest sales so far”, she says, tears threatening to burst out of her eyes for the second time today. “Let’s ask Xinyu what she thinks”, you point to the girl sitting next to Dahyun. “I agwee wif offa”, she says with a full mouth before swallowing her food, “ehm, excuse me—yes, I agree with oppa’s idea; we should introduce this to everyone. We’ll need the sauce as well, by the way”.

Dahyun sits in silence before covering her face to hide her tears; “oppa, unnie, why are you guys so kind to us? First it was the investment and now this?”, she says with trembling voice. Xinyu hugs the crying girl, “because we love you and we love your food, baby”. If Xinyu was calling another guy “baby”, you would flip out, but you don’t mind since it’s Dahyun. “I know that we sound like a broken record, but we genuinely love the food here. Can you give me an estimation as to when you think you’ll be able to do it?”, the way you say it makes you sound like your dad right now. Dahyun sniffles and gathers her mind to think of an answer, “um, probably in a few weeks; I need to talk with my parents, though”. “Very cool”, you clap your hands once, “we’ll be having a meeting with everyone in the council at the end of September. We’ll tell them to come with an empty stomach”.

You’re now ready to leave the restaurant after finishing your burgers, fries, and a whole bottle of sauce. “We’re gonna need to hit the gym this weekend”, you think to yourself. You’re standing in front of the cashier with Dahyun and Xinyu, and that’s when Xinyu excuses herself and runs to the toilet. Dahyun keeps her eyes on Xinyu until she disappears behind the toilet door and walks up to you slowly. You’re not too sure what she’s trying to do, so you opt to let things run their course for now. She wraps her arms around your nape and pulls you down for a kiss. As she’s kissing you, you can’t help but notice how soft her lips are. Dahyun then pulls away from the kiss after a few seconds; “I swear I’ll find a way to repay you, just wait—also, don’t think that I didn’t see your mark on unnie’s neck; sex with you must be amazing, oppa”, she says before taking a few steps back to avoid Xinyu’s suspicion. “You’re saying a lot of nonsense right now, darling”, you say in a quiet voice—that’s another pet name spilling out of your lips and Dahyun catches it right away. “Darling, hm? I like the sound of that, darling”, she winks at you and walks away. Perfect timing, really, because you see that Xinyu is opening the toilet door and about to walk out.

You close your eyes and put a palm on your forehead; “what is happening right now, man?”. Life is throwing another girl at you, and you’re not sure why because you already have a girlfriend—a lovely one at that. You take a deep breath before holding your girlfriend’s hand and leading her out of the door. You take a glance at Dahyun over your shoulder, and you see her wink at you once again. “I’m so fucking cooked”, you think to yourself.

#girl group smut #triples smut #kpop smut #smut #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #male reader smut #male reader

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nonbinaryeggrolls · 1 year ago

Text

Battle of the Larynx IV

Miguel O’Hara x afab!reader

Pt. 1, Pt. 2, Pt. 3, Pt. 4

Synopsis: Having Spider-Man as a boyfriend was becoming increasingly more difficult, and his reoccurring absence is tearing you apart

Warnings: SMUT (rough v & p penetration, use of the term “daddy”, oral f receiving, praise, degradation, breeding kink, unprotected sex,) ANGST to fluff to smut, self destructive Miguel, Wholesome Peter!, Y/N doesn’t get preggy let’s just imagine she’s on birth control, WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT BABES!

MINORS DNI. AGELESS AND MINOR BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

Spider society was bigger than you thought it’d be, SOOOO much bigger. Its 10x bigger than your university was. You and Peter walked silently down the empty halls

Peter: “Lyla you there?”, a woman in all white appeared on his watch greeting Peter, “Is he up there?” He asked

Lyla: “Yeah, he’s been up there for a while.” She responded, “Someone should go talk to him…”

Peter: “Thats all you kid, he’s in the only room on the top floor.” He smiled at you and you pulled him into a soft hug, thanking him for bringing you here.

His floor was quiet and a complete mess. Wires sparking all over the place from being ripped out the wall, desks broken in half and holes punched into the wall; but in the middle of all the wreckage you saw him in the middle of the room with his back turned away.

Y/N: “Miguel?”

Miguel: “…Y/N.” He looked broken when looked back at you, his eye bags were bigger than usual and he was downing countless boxes of empanadas that he had gotten from the cafeteria

Y/N: “Miguel stop you’re going to give yourself stomach cramps.” You ran over and sat down beside him, pushing the boxes of food away so you could sit beside him. You used the sleeve of your sweater and wiped away at the grease and crumbs that were littered all over his face. He kept opening his mouth to say something but no words managed to form, “Talk to me Miggy.”

He crumbled at the sound of his nickname, he didn’t know how much he missed hearing those two syllables until they finally left your lips. Tears started to fall down his cheek and soak your sleeve.

Miguel: “Did you…did you have sex with him?” He finally asked. At first you were confused and thought he actually wondered if he thought you and Peter had sex, but then your eyes widened and realized who he was talking about, “I was just trying to make sure you got home safe, a-and I saw the two of you. God I’m so sorry I pushed you away Y/N, I’m sorry I know I pushed you right to him but please just tell if you—

Y/N: “I’d never. I pushed him away.” He closed his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief. All night he couldn’t get the thought out of his mind; of another man giving you pleasure, making you scream, you moaning a name that wasn’t his. It destroyed him knowing how close he was to losing you to someone else

Miguel: “I’m so s—

Y/N: “I forgive you Miguel.” You said pulling him into hug and allowing him to rest on your chest, “I’m not mad anymore. I understand, you’re a really really complicated person but I know you love me. I know you regret the choices you’ve made these last few months you showed that when you opened up to me. That’s all I needed Miggy, was for you to open up to me and not leave me in the dark like you did every time before. I need you to let me be there for you like I need you to be there for me.” You rocked him back and forth and slowly you felt his breathing calm and his arms wrap tightly around your waist.

Miguel: “I’m so sorry for what I did…I don’t wanna hurt you like this ever again.”

Y/N: “You better not or I’ll have to fucking kill you”

You both giggled and he looked up at you through his puffy red eyes. Miguel draws you in closer and his smooth lips find yours in a passionate long awaited kiss. It’s soft and gentle then suddenly becomes desperate and feral. That warm sensation that you had once forgotten rushed through every corner of your body. You felt your body move on its own and start rocking against his thigh. He moves down to your neck and his breath on your skin makes you shiver

Miguel: “Can I take you home? Please cariño?” He begs and caresses your nipple with the pad of his thum

Y/N: “God yes. Please I want you so bad Miggy…

Miguel practically broke the door down to get into your bedroom, acting like a wild animal gnawing and prying at your baggy clothes. He craved you, it’d had been so long since he knew the warmth of your walls clenching around his cock

His suit disintegrated leaving him in his boxers that showed the outline of his erection and his toned structure. It leaves you hazy with desire. Fuck you missed it so badly, you felt a wetness soak your shorts just at the sight of him.

Miguel: “You’re so beautiful Y/N…so fucking prefect.”

Slowly, he kisses you starting at your lips, then to your neck, and down to your chest. Whispered praises leave his lips with every each kiss he lays on your body. However these ones felt different than all the other times, they felt desperate and needy. As if he was afraid that if he stopped now he’s never get the chance again

Miguel: “I don’t know what I’d do without you…I love you so much, I wanna love you for as long as I can. For as long as you’ll let me…” He lays one final kiss on your lips and presses your body up against his broad chest

Y/N: “Miggy please…” you moaned

Miguel: “What do you want baby? use your words.” He wrapped a firm grip onto your hair and pulled, exposing your neck even more and once again latching his lips on

Y/N: “Please, fuck me already!”

He couldn’t take it anymore. He wanted to draw this out as long has he could, make it meaningful, but seeing you in his shirt and those skimpy little rib knit shorts that hugged your ass so well made his member leak and throb

Miguel grabs you by your waist roughly before pushing your back onto the soft mattress. As he spreads your legs apart he palms himself and examines the dampness that is showing through your shorts. He hooks one finger on each side and slides them down revealing your slick pussy

Miguel: “No panties baby? You knew i was gonna fuck you this whole time didn’t you?”

Y/N: “No i didn— OH FUCK!” you screamed at the sensation of his tongue entering your heat and darted at a delicious speed

He ate like he was starving. His lips latched onto your clit, soon entering his ring and middle finger. The two curled and pressed against that spongy sweet spot repeatedly and you swore you saw stars

Miguel: “You taste so good baby, so fucking sweet. I missed this cunt so much.” He said between each lick on your clit.

With each passing moment you felt yourself grow closer and closer. The knot in your stomach grew tighter, god you were almost there

Y/N: “Fuck Miguel Im gonna cum. Fuck! please let me cum!” you pleaded and thrusted your pussy against his mouth

Miguel: “Shit cariño cum for me! Cum so I can rip you open with this dick!” He postponed his fingers into you

Y/N: “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! FUCK!”

With one last suck on your bud you feel the knot snap. Your eyes roll back and you spasm in his grasp as your orgasm hits you like a truck. Your legs tremble as you come down from your high. Miguel brings you into a sloppy and moist kiss mixed with both his saliva and your juices.

You feel his tip position at your entrance but a twinge of hesitation shows in his face

Y/N: “It’s okay Miguel, you can be rough with me. I want it to be just like before.” you say through heavy breathes

Miguel: “Are you sure?” He asks. You bring him into another kiss this time slower and deeper, grabbing onto his locks

Y/N: “Fuck me like you hate me.” you whisper in his ear

It was all the incentive he needed. He grips the meat of your thighs and rams his cock into your tight cunt, not caring if you needed time to adjust. Your cries go ignored as he bullied his dick into you at an unforgiving pace, each thrust making your walls cling to his girth.

The moans Miguel let out were downright pornographic and they filled the room. The room is filled with your combined screams, grunts, and the sound of your skin slapping against eachother

Miguel: “Oh my fucking god baby, you’re so fucking tight Aaagh! Look how fucking good your pretty little cunt is taking me. I SAID FUCKING LOOK AT ME WHEN I FUCK YOU!” he screamed and pulled you in by your throat extracting a loud whimper from you

You couldn’t stop squirming in his hold, his cock was hitting every spot so perfectly

Miguel: “Look at it baby, look at the mess you’re making.” You glanced down at where the two of you connected. Your essence mixing together with his and glazing his shaft. The milky ring that started to form at the base of his shaft made Miguel’s cock twitch

Y/N: “Your so big Miggy, you stretch me so good every fucking time. No one fucks me like you do!”

Suddenly Miguel flips you over and shoves your face into the mattress. You feel a hard slap against your ass, it brings out a moan so sexy Miguel felt as if he could cum right then and there.

Miguel: “Fucking right baby nobody fucks this pussy like I do.” He groans while shoving his cock back in side of you, “If he ever tries to touch you again I’ll rip out his throat.” He whispers in your ear, his new possessiveness made you absolutely feral

His strokes are different now, they’re slow and deep

Y/N: “Miggy I’m so close, I’m almost there!” You sniffled

Miguel: “Beg for it, or I’ll pull out and leave you here to finish yourself off.” He lied of course, he was too close to cumming to stop now but he wanted to here you cry for his release

Y/N: “Please daddy! I want to feel you pump my pussy full of your cum. Please give it to me!” You cried with tears brimming from your eyes. His eyes widened at your request, you had never asked him to cum inside you before

Miguel: “Good Girl. GOOD. FUCKING. GIRL.” He growled putting a harsh thrust between each word

Miguel: “Fuck…Uuugh Fuck baby! I’m so close, so fucking close. I’m gonna paint you with my seed ~fuck~. You want that cariño? Want me to fuck my babies into you? Take daddy’s cum like a good little slut. FUCKING TAKE IT!”

Y/N: “OH FUCK MIGGY!”, You clench around Miguel one last time as he pulls a violent orgasm from you

Miguel throws his head back letting out the most guttural moan you had ever heard from him and finally finishes inside you. His hips spasm and shake, refusing to move until he was sure you took ever drop of him. He stays hurried inside you for a few more seconds then eventually pulls out his softening member.

Your breathing settles and you feel Miguel lay down and pull you in next to him, it brings you so much peace hearing his heartbeat again. His hands loving rub down your back and strokes your shoulder blades, something Miguel regularly did if he thought he was a little too rough during sex. It was silent for the next few minutes, but not an uncomfortable one, one that allowed the two of you to enjoy each other’s warmth.

Miguel: “It feels so good to be back in a bed I can fit in, Peters twin size was terrible.” You both chuckled

Y/N: “Oh my god that must have been awful, I’m sorry no wonder you looked like you hadn’t slept in days.”

Miguel: “Don’t be, I did it to myself…I was kind of a dick.” He said and pulled your head into his chest

Miguel never wanted to stop feeling like this, he never wanted to stop feeling safe with you. He’d never forgive himself for how he treated you but he’d spend whatever time he had with you making it up to you. And he prayed to whatever God or presence that ruled over this world, that the canon wouldn’t take you from him. For the first time in a long time Miguel was truly, effortlessly happy.

Miguel: “You know you were never a replacement, right baby? I don’t need you to be anyone else but you.”

Y/N: “I know…I love you Miguel.”

Miguel: “I love you too Y/N, always.”

#miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel x reader #peter parker #hobie brown #across the spiderverse #miguel angst #miguel o’hara angst #miguel x y/n #miles molares #gwen stacy #atsv #miguel smut

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churchofthecomet · 9 months ago

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I haven't watched Leverage in a while, see my last complaint post about their Stuxnet episode. But in the meantime I've been consuming other media, and it just struck me how equal the dynamic is between all of the Leverage characters.

Every character in this show is competent. They each have Their Thing that They Do, and if one of them is absent for an episode, the rest of the team suffers until they get back. I complain about them short-changing Hardison by making the tech stuff unrealistic and incomprehensible (so you can't get a feel for how good he is at it, like you can with Eliot punching people -- although if I knew more about fighting I'm sure I'd be complaining about Eliot's scenes too). But at least within the narrative he is really good at his job, and the other team members know it. Likewise for Eliot, Parker, Nate, and Sophie -- they're each at the top of their respective classes. They have separate specialties and they're amazing at those specialties.

And what's more, the interpersonal dynamics reflect this. Nate is an asshole to the rest of them, but there are FOUR OF THEM so it balances him out -- they can commiserate with each other, sit him down and have a talk with him, threaten to strike, whatever, and their side of the relationship is treated with importance because the team couldn't function without them.

Hardison and Eliot's sniping is just friendly banter, and they know it. Everyone is so supportive of Parker's social problems. Sophie is the one with the most traditionally-feminine skillset, something which might be demeaned in another show (and I have some complaints with Leverage's treatment of her), but she's taken seriously both in-universe and by the show itself. They all work wonderfully together. They balance each other out, and they become more than the sum of their parts.

Contrast this with the dynamics in a bunch of other modern media. Let's grab my favorite punching bag of late, BBC Sherlock. Sherlock is far and away the more useful member of the Sherlock-and-John team. The narrative places incredible weight on his intelligence, and John is stuck in a support role. Sherlock is also mean to John, and since John is one person (without much of a spine for standing up to Sherlock!) it feels utterly abusive. The "friendly banter" isn't banter. The "aww look they really DO care about each other" moments were enough for me when I was 13 or 14, but now it just feels like a cycle of abuse. The dynamic is fundamentally not equal. If I'm watching a TV show and I start to think "man character A really needs like 6 months of therapy to stop hating themself and they NEED to leave character B," when the show's message is "character A and character B are a match made in heaven you guys," the show has failed.

See also Our Flag Means Death season 2 with the relationship between... honestly Ed and the rest of the crew, but mostly Ed and Stede. Ed is the best pirate anyone's ever seen -- the rest of them are pretty good but no match for him. The one guy who had a chance of standing up to Ed and equalizing things got killed off at the end of the season, and Stede (as we've seen) lacks a spine to stand up to Ed. Controversial take but Good Omens might be heading in this direction? They defanged Aziraphale and made him into way more of a softie than the book or Season 1 imply. Meanwhile Crowley is Competent and Right About Everything by comparison. The general pattern here is that couples (or whatever the fuck was going on with BBC Sherlock and John) are worse off. I don't know if it's lasting heteronormativity or "two-person dynamics are hard," but the urge to make sunshine-and-stormcloud pairings where the stormcloud acts like shit towards the sunshine is just... too strong.

Leverage is this rare show that refuses to shit on any of its protagonists. Everyone's in the loop, everyone sees some character development, and it fucking RULES. I wish they could make more TV shows like this in 2024.

#leverage #ofmd critical #bbc sherlock critical #good omens critical #(only slightly)#found families #i need leverage but with like even better politics pleaseeee #i think Firefly is also good at this #or maybe i just thought Mal and Wash were hot? can't tell #i should go rewatch it

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gothwizardmagic · 2 years ago

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lots of homeschooling lore in your tags these days LMAO would you mind sharing a bit about how that works? genuinely curious

lmao sure tho it isnt the most exciting story

my mum always wanted to homeschool bc she wasnt a fan of how restrictive school curriculums are (shes v much an advocate for montessori style child-directed learning) but i wanted to go to school Like The Kids On TV so she let me. i spent about 3 years at primary school where i was the classroom punching bag THE ENTIRE TIME. highlights include being pushed down a flight of stairs IN FRONT OF A TEACHER WHO DID NOTHING, another teacher punishing me for being better at maths than my classmates bc i kept tearing through her worksheets too fast (i cant do maths for shit anymore she scared it out of me) and a "friend" of mine's brother getting his hands on the axe they had for firewood and chasing me around while i was over on a "playdate" (these quotes are bc this girl was in fact horrendous to me)

i was actively suicidal by the time i was 8 and my mum just stopped even trying to take me to school at that point (around the time i started throwing up with fear every morning) and after a lot of VERY angry meetings the best the school would do was an anti bullying assembly, which meant everyone knew i had tattled. my mum was fucking furious about all of this & went ahead with the homeschooling application she had halted when i decided i wanted to go to school. the guidelines at the time (im not sure what they are these days) were just that a child had to be educated "as regularly and as well" as they would be in school, with check-ins from the MoE every few years.

i dont remember how long it took the application to go through but yea after that i was homeschooled. my mum bought up a shitload of textbooks and workbooks and drew up lesson plans but her focus was still on student-directed learning so as my interests developed in various areas that was where the focus went. we did have designated sit-down time every day, but for the most part she would give me resources and assignments/goals and let me go hog wild at whatever my current fascinations were with some guidance and oversight along the way. it did mean losing access to anything that required specific facilities - i dont know shit about chemistry bc we didnt have like. a lab lmao. but yea by the time i was 11 i was on to university textbooks for some subjects (this is not a big flex these were early 00s computer science textbooks the first lesson in cs101 was literally "this is called an on button. this is called a mouse.") and by the time i was 16 we were doing uni-level work in pretty much every subject i was interested in, at the expense of subjects i didnt give a shit about. (i do not know fuck shit about like. geography or maths to this day)

the assessments were pretty chill, govt people would basically just take a few random samples of my work to look over and do a lil interview with me to make sure i was learning shit. for socialisation my parents made sure i did plenty of after school activities (dance, swimming, scouting, drama, conservation club, etc) and my dad took us on trips to like. the museum or nature reserves or whatever every weekend for Enrichment.

once i was 15/16 we started looking into uni entry, but the rules had changed since i started homeschooling. when i started there was a single uni entry exam you had to sit at sixth form and that was that. they replaced it when i was. 12-ish i think with the current system, which involves a complicated nightmare of three years of both internal (classwork) and external (exam) credits and the requirements are nebulous and seem to change year to year and basically it sucks shit and every single assignment from fifth form onwards counts towards your uni entry so its massively high stress. this also means you CANT get uni entry as a homeschooler, because theres no way to get those internal credits. we tried a few different routes to get UE but the best option we were given was one high school offered to let me sit fifth, sixth, and seventh form all at the same time in one year to get my credits. this was Unideal because the whole point was to Not go to high school, it was work i had already done and didnt wanna do again, and it was three years worht of work crammed into one. so i never got uni entry and have basically been bumming around since.

UE problems aside, homeschooling worked really well for my family. my mum is disabled so she was home all the time anyway. both of my parents are highly educated so they had the backgrounds to provide a cohesive and varied curriculum, and my sister and i are both neurodivergent so the one on one attention and flexibility in format was ENORMOUSLY helpful for us. my sister has never been to any kind of mainstream schooling and it would have been absolute hell if she had tried. (shes very severely dyslexic and schools in the early 00s were. not set up to help with that)

so yea thats the homeschooling lore - i missed out on a lot of stuff for sure (met one of my exes entirely beecuase i wanted to go to formal SO FUCKING BAD and my only option was to go to someone else's so a mutual friend set us up so i could go with her lmao) but it took me out of an extremely bad situation and gave me an education that was much better suited to my own learning needs. i know homeschooling has a Certain Reputation, especially in the us, but my experience was wholly unrelated to that side of the homeschooling community, and it was unbelievably beneficial to me. looking back i dont regret the time i spent in mainstream school (i met my best friend there and i literally dont know where i would be without them weve been through the fucking fire and back) but homeschooling was the healthiest thing possible for me and my family and im so so so grateful my parents were able to do that for me

#Anonymous #sorry this is so long and rambly lmao #its weird to talk about because it was just normal day to day stuff for me so like #idk whats even relevant to discuss haha #''what should our learning goals this week be?''#''uhhhhh i wanna study lizards''#''fuck yeah lizard week lets gooooooooooo''#''ok by friday i want an essay on lizard facts and finish five pages of your japanese workbook''#''tomorrow we'll work through the english textbook together and get some lizard books from the library for your essay''#like it was more in depth than that obviously but that was the vibe

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yuniemaki · 2 years ago

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*facefaults into your ask box* FANDOM ASK GAME LETS GO- 8, 11, and 13 :D

Cadri you need to stop destroying my doors and ask boxes LMAO (affectionate)

8. WHY did you join the fandom???

Did i join the fandom or did the fandom suck me in like a vacuum cleaner? i was but a dust mite chilling on the floor wobbling over beiguang and all of a sudden i was sucked into a bag where there are many other dust mites and we are all jiggling about in the bag happily wobbling over beiguang and i like it here, i don't wanna be emptied into the trash with my fellow dust mites-

11. what song do you associate with a character (or 2)?

ohhhh gods i hate this question it kills me when i think about it every time because THIS.... THIS SONG....

手掌心 by Della (Ding Dang) - Ningguang & her love for Beidou

I am going to go on a tangent and break some extracts down because!! SEE MY VISION!!!!

我在南极憧憬你的北极星我等你不信心心不相印

I’m in the South Pole reminiscing about your North Star I'll wait for you; I don't believe our hearts are unconnected

一寸光阴一寸心一朵昙花一朵云一朵雪花一朵梦境一一捧在手掌心一颗尘埃一菩提一颗流星一个你一心一意捧在手掌心

An inch of light, an inch of my love A bloom of cereus*, a blooming cloud A blooming snowflake, a bloom of dreams Held carefully in the heart of my palm A single seed of dust, a Bodhi tree* A single falling star, and only you One heart and one mind Held carefully in the heart of my palm

*-Queen of the Night; known for its fragrance. Symbol of short-lived time; "enjoy the small moments because they do not last".

Everything in this chorus is transient and short-lived and just represents beiguang's fleeting moments together before Beidou leaves, and reflects how Ningguang cherishes these memories to me and how much it means to her- the Bodhi tree, a falling star, a single heart and mind, a snowflake, GAH!!!!!!! STOP!!! IT HURTS!!!!! *punches wall*

你是天地你是风雨你是晴你是温柔的叛逆逆转我的一年四季

You are heaven and earth, you are wind and rain, you are the sun You are tender rebellion You turned my four seasons backwards.

"tender rebellion"... because someone taught her to live in the moment... help

偏偏我越抱越紧偏偏我越爱越贪心偏偏要爱到万箭穿了心才死心

Unfortunately, the more I hug you, the closer, tighter it gets Unfortunately, the more I love, the greedier I become Unfortunately it will take a thousand arrows piercing my heart for me to give (you) up

可不可以不甘心可不可以不认命如果可以拿我换给你

Is it possible to reject the fate of our love? Is it possible to reject the destiny of our life? If it is all possible, then use my life to save yours.

PLEASE I KNOW IT'S ANGSTY BUT,,, BUT..... BUT!....!!!! AAAGGGHHHHH 😭😭

13. if you could be in the universe of the characters what would you do first?

the idealistic version is i'd somehow get to walk around the jade chamber fr and get to see beidou AND ningguang in-person

the realistic version is i'd probably fall to my knees in front of Ningguang, get arrested for making a scene, and die happy in Liyue jail (at least i got to kiss her feet in-person)

#ask game #yunieinbox #beiguang #shou zhang xin #手掌心 #genshin impact #ningguang #beidou #beidou x ningguang

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starlingsrps · 4 months ago

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where the spirit meets the bones.

on her fourth day in paris, elizabeth comes downstairs in slacks and a sweater, fully expecting to be left alone yet again. dad's meetings at the embassy seem endless and whatever mother has found to entertain herself keeps her out of the house for most of the day - if things keep at this clip, she can do as she likes during the day and make her appearances at dinner until her classes start in january and she can actually use the excuse of being busy. mother is decked out in full dress and holding a cup and saucer that she desperately hopes is meant for her.

“you’re going out with me on my errands today,” she says, pushing the cup into her hands. “you’ll need to meet our vendors.”

lizzie sips the coffee, willing it to help her mother's words make sense. “isn’t that what the housekeeper is for?”

mother sighs as though lizzie is the one making foolish demands. “it will be good for you to get more experience running household.” she leans across the banister, inviting her to lean in. “and i don’t trust justine to do it the way i like. you know exactly how i like things.”

elizabeth sighs now, the sound identical to her mother’s and knowing it. “fine. let me go change.”

she combs out her hair neatly because if her mother is already this high strung, a sloppy part may very well send her into full blown distress. mother doesn’t care for justine but her things have already been unpacked the way she likes them and it doesn’t take her long to find her favorite suit and pumps. she’d hoped for a bit more time to herself before having to put on the dog and play ambassador’s daughter but she supposes four days is enough to ask for. she finds the gloves and bag that match and marches downstairs for inspection, only to march up again when mother asks if she’s sure about that hat.

she remembers, more vividly than she'd like after this long, the way michael had always referred to it as lizzie punching in for a day at the diplomat daughter factory when her neat and tidy suits and quiet manners came out for outing with parents. he promised that she'd never have to do that once his career got off the ground but, as she touches up her lipstick and adjusts her hat, she knows that probably wouldn't have been the case and it's no use imagining otherwise.

back to work.

the second hat meets with mother's approval (it should, as it she bought it) and they leave. paris is not yet paris again, she can tell that much as they stroll from avenue foch to the shops. the florist first, the edges fray a bit more. the germans left this genteel part more or less intact when they ran but she imagines that its far different the further west and south they go. for all her sins, mother puts her money where her mouth is when she talks about supporting local businesses on their postings. she’s a picky, particular pain in the ass but she pays well for the perfection she expects. that will simply have to be the background music in her head as she listens to her gentle demands.

the florist is their first stop, managed by a fussy little woman who’s a woman after mother’s own heart. elizabeth is introduced and then the two cheerfully complain about the impossibility of getting tulips from holland this past spring and she wonders if she slipped into an alternative universe.

“mother, they were starving.”

“i know, elizabeth.” she turns back to madame delauney. “we simply could have been better informed of shipping delays, isn’t that correct?”

she smothers a sigh and decides . those are her usual words - lizzie is right but she’s correct and that will always hold more power. they leave madame delauney and continue making their way down the list - a tailor for dad, a seamstress next door to him that she almost trusts, the grocer and a wine merchant. their butcher, a man named yves with a face and voice like thunder in the marais, seems especially unamused by her tittering. she issues her first apology of the day to him and he seems to mostly accept it.

they have to cross the river for the boulangerie and mother loops her arm through lizzie's and sighs happily. "it's so good to have you here, darling," she says, patting her arm. "dad simply doesn't understand how much work goes into all of this."

it softens lizzie a little bit and she smiles. "it's good to be here. i was getting a little lonely in washington with just matt and his friends."

another pat, this one consoling. "i know it must be difficult right now with all of the -" her voice drops to a murmur, as though she's about to say something wicked or curse like a sailor "-weddings but think of this as a fresh start."

though she knows what she means is finding a nice young man in the diplomatic corps settle down with and restart the plans that were put on hold by the war and buried along with michael, elizabeth agrees. she just has very different ideas of what that will look like.

the boulangerie is scrubbed clean with the radio on low. it's close to noon so that the shop is empty doesn't surprise her all that much. there’s a slim, pretty girl at the counter with curls so wild that she’s amazed they haven’t given mother a heart attack yet. she slides her book under the counter and gives them a smile that elizabeth recognizes the sharp edges of. “bonjour, madame ambassador. was there a problem with the delivery this morning?”

mother waves her free hand as though to dispel any notions lizzie might have that she's ever been remotely difficult here. “no, no, of course not. my daughter has joined the ambassador and i, and i’m introducing her to our lovely shopkeepers.” she cranes her neck to look through a doorway behind the counter. "is your delightful brother in today?"

the girl smiles wider and hops off of her stool. "oh, of course he is. i'll fetch him."

she disappears through the doorway and mother pats lizzie's arm a final time before dropping it. "they're very nice here," she says, adjusting her hat. "it's a family operation. you should always support small, family businesses elizabeth, wherever you're able. it's very important to support the community."

lizzie hums in acknowledgment and skirts closer to the counter to read the signs on the wall to see what they carry. her mother’s french is polite at best but elizabeth’s is fluent and sharp - she catches the rapid fire conversation in the back and wants to laugh. if her mother hadn't told her this is a family operation, the shopgirl and her brother's conversation would have certainly given it away.

that woman is back, she says.

does she have a complaint again, he asks. he has a voice that could be rather nice to hear under the right circumstances, deep with a hit of a rumble, but he sounds flat and unamused at the moment.

no but she has a daughter.

a long silence followed by an even longer sigh.

or she can talk to them but…

fine but she's being a brat.

then there are footsteps and lizzie has to pretend like she wasn't eavesdropping. the shopgirl first, trotting ahead looking triumphant at having won, her delightful brother on her heels. her first thought is that he’s handsome but would probably be more so after sleeping for a week. he's tall and broad shouldered with the same blue eyes as his sister and a terribly serious face that makes her want to make him laugh.

"madame ambassador," he says with the same edged, careful smile as his sister. "always a delight to see you. and this is?"

"my daughter, elizabeth. i've told you about her, my little scholar. she'll be at the sorbonne in the spring but she's my little lieutenant until then." lizzie silently begs for her to stop saying little. "she'll come in when i'm not able to, if needed."

funny that - two days ago she was throwing away her youth and life with both hands but now she's a scholar. of course she brags about it when lizzie isn't present which pleases some primal part of her but from the way the baker is eyeing her, he was probably expecting an insufferable prig. he glances at her left hand so fast that it could probably just be an eye twitch but it makes something spark in her brain.

though she's right handed and it feels a bit awkward, she offers her left hand for shaking, if only so he can feel for himself that there's no band there. there hasn't been for awhile, not since she very awkwardly mailed the family ring back to the hamiltons. he takes her hand for a very correct, polite handshake but he has such lovely hands and looks directly into her eyes in a way that makes it feel anything but.

his hands are clean but there's a trace of flour left behind on the black suede of her gloves, like a little ghost of his touch.

"a pleasure to meet you, mademoiselle ballard," he says. "adrien cormier and this is my sister, marie françoise."

from the corner of her eye, she sees the girl give him a poisonous look and mutter under her breath before returning her attention to mother.

"and you as well, monsieur corimer." she turns to see if mother is still talking to (at, really) marie françoise and then back to him. "elizabeth, please," she adds in french. "i imagine after all she's put you through already, we may as well be on a first name basis."

he lets out of a whiff of a laugh, the sound weak and rusty but she imagines he hasn't had much cause to laugh in recent years. "very well, elizabeth then. adrien. and she prefers manon." the poisonous look vanishes. "have you been in paris long?"

"i docked a few days but this is my first time out and about." he's using the informal tu already and she knows she should have stronger opinions on the assumption in that single word but can't bring herself to care. there's something familiar in him, for all that she didn't know he existed five minutes ago.

"and what do you think?"

"lovely, if a bit sad." she glances again at mother and manon. "i don't think she understands what you've all been through. if she's done or said anything out of order, i do apologize."

he just looks at her for a moment and lizzie gets the impression of being measured. "thank you," he says simply and yes, that was an apology that needed to be delivered.

"of course. should i rescue manon or…?"

he shakes his head. "consider it justified."

#type: writing #s: elizabeth x adrien #verse: at the end of the world

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sailorsenshishitposter · 11 months ago

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Steven Armstrong x Reader

Warning for racism and xenophobia

Senator Steven Armstrong:

You're extremely patriotic, from Texas or just love huge men who smash everything with their giant hulk fists

First Date:

You were a secretary at World Marshal Inc. and had started to recently have an affair with your boss who was not only CEO of the company but was also running as candidate for the upcoming election. To say you had to keep things on the down low would be a massive understatement. The public couldn't get wind of this as it would be a huge scandal. You were saddened that you hardly ever got to see Steven but he promise that he would make it up to you. He donned a fake moustache with a chef's hat and pretended that he was a world renowned culinary artist from France who's specicialty was making the mother of all omletes. Personally, you thought he was kind of over thinking it. Especially since you were at a football game.

"Did you know that I used to play for the University of Texas? They said I could go pro but I did the honorable thing and joined the navy. These pansies couldn't even keep up with me. I bet I could break them in two!" You placed your hand over his massive forearm. "Lets just try to enjoy the game dear." You were right. "I apologize. I'll go get us some refreshments." He kissed you on the cheek and walked off.

While waiting in line he couldn't help but notice that a large number of people ahead of him were of asian descent. "Damn foreigners! First these orientals come here with their candy ass trees and the next thing you know they're taking our jobs. It's unamerican, I tell you what!" he thought to himself. Eventually it was his turn and he reached the register. "Hello, may I take your order?" Armstrong couldn't believe his eyes. "Jack?! What are you doing here!" he said in disgust.

"NO! No fucking way am I serving you!" Armstrong grabbed him by the uniform. "You piece of shit, don't make me get your manager!" Raiden cursed under his breath. "Shit!" He knew he couldn't afford to lose this job. "Alright, fine! I'll have you know that since leaving Maverick, it's been very hard to find a job in this economy and I need this one to pay for my son's child support. Anyway, what will it be?"

Armstrong looked over the menu. It was all deep fried, calorie loaded garbage that would give you imminent diabetes but damn it, it was the most American food he had ever seen. "I'll take two Big Mac's, some fries and two Coca colas. How much will it be?" Raiden was trying everything he could to keep Jack at bay. "There aren't any Big Mac's, this isn't McDonald's! Order something else!"

Armstrong said "Fine. Two Whoppers. Take it or leave it!" Raiden slammed his head into the cash register violently. "You idiot! That's Burger King and we don't have those either!" Armstrong was getting agitated. "WHERE THE HELL IS A MAN SUPPOSED TO FIND A GOOD OLD FASHIONED HAMBURGER!?" Raiden then pointed to the sign. "Sir, this is a Wendy's. We have burgers if you'd like to order some."

"Fine!" he grumbled and the senator threw some change at the table. "Allow me to prepare your order" and with that, Raiden returned to the kitchen and took his sword out, slicing all the food he could. He returned with a bag and said "That will be $24.99" Armstrong scoffed. "Damn war economy!" He opened the bag and inspected all its contents. "The hell is this? My fries are cold!" Raiden was stunned. "Sir, I assure you that's the standard temperature we cook them at-" Suddenly Armstrong got in his face and was screaming about how he was being scammed and that he wanted his money back.

"No way! I'm not giving you a refund-" The next thing he knew, Raiden was punched so hard in the face that he flew into the air and landed on the football field. In his haste, Armstrong's disguise fell off and he rushed after the cyborg. The players stopped to look at what they were witnessing and a camera was now showing living footage on a large screen television. Armstrong jumped on Raiden and began to punch him so hard that craters began to form.

"Die you piece of shit!" He caused so much trauma to his skin that his nanomachines hardened in response. Gasps could be heard among the crowd. "Isn't that Senator Armstrong? Why is he trying to kill this man?" Another person shouted "Hey! Stop doing blackface!" Suddenly everyone in the stadium was taking pictures. Armstrong stopped. "What's happening?" Raiden let out a chuckle. "Check Twitter lately? You're getting #cancelled."

The senator stood up in a panic. "WAIT! THIS ISN'T WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE!" Another person in the crowd began to shame him for attacking a helpless Liberian immigrant. "WHAT!? THERE'S NO WAY THAT SAUCY JACK IS A PERSON OF COLOUR!" Suddenly Bladewolf showed up and projected video footage of him in Packistan. "OH GREAT! NOT ONLY IS HE RACIST, BUT HE'S ALSO A COLONIZER!" The audience was calling for him to be burned at the stake.

The Denver police unit showed up and arrested him on the spot, much to everyone's joy. Sadly this was America and being a corrupt country that empowers terrible people, he was released the next day and received a slap on the wrist for attempted murder. He was just glad he could bribe the judges to drop the charges. He turned on the television.

"In other news, Senetor Steven Armstrong was arrested last week, his following in the polls dramatically dropping. CNET would like to show you our exclusive footage with our special guest. Jack, how have you been since the incident?" Armstrong couldn't believe it. Not only was Jack on screen but he was seemed healthy and likely well recovered.

"Pretty good actually. I have a really good doctor that was able to patch me up. The best part is that I don't even have to pay him in cash. He takes hands!" Raiden started to snicker. The anchor woman wasn't sure how to respond to such a statement. "Yes... Well then.. Do you have any words that you would like to say to Mr. Armstrong?"

"Yes. Yes I do. I just want everyone to know that the rest of this country doesn't like dumb old Texas and that people from there are dumb-" Armstrong began to screech. "HOW DARE THAT MAGGOT TAKE THE NAME OF TEXAS IN VAIN!" Suddenly he was having a massive heart attack and managed to press the life alert button on his wrist as he fell. Paramedics arrived and rushed him to the hospital where he would later die during open heart surgery.

#Steven Armstrong x reader #senator armstrong #mgr raiden #mgrr #shitpost #Making the mother of all omletes #Mgr

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purplelupins · 2 years ago

Text

Sweet Dreams

|The Black Phone|

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V

Part VI

Grabber/Albert x fem!reader

Summery: Getting away from her life as a human punching bag took her somewhere she never could have imagined. But it seemed that even a basement with a masked man watching her could become home.

Warnings: depictions of physical and verbal abuse, manipulation, pet names, power imbalance, sexual tension, mild swearing, mentions of medical trauma, nsfw

Note: PLEASE READ

This is a nsfw DARK story so if you are a minor DO NOT ENGAGE. If you are offended or triggered by the mentioned material, DO NOT ENGAGE. Simple as that. Please note that I do not condone what the Grabber has done in cannon, and I am only using him as a character in my story. If you message me with negativity or harassment, I will not respond. This is Tumblr, not Twitter. Please block the Grabber x reader tag if you are disgusted.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

That night began as many did.

Slowly.

It was always the same deceiving cycle that she always thought would be better than the one previous, but she was always wrong.

It would begin with dinner. A nice, family dinner with her little sister, her mother, and her father. Aside from her father, the family remained quiet and well-mannered. Her father, Stewart or Stew for short, would talk about his long day at work, and poke a few jokes about his eldest daughter being too quiet, and ask why the house isn’t cleaner to her mother; she would crack a nervous smile and try to redirect the conversation.

And it would work.

For a while.

Until it didn’t.

Y/n and her mother would clean up after dinner, and she would help her sister with homework while her father sat in front of their old Sony television from 1965 with a can of off brand beer. He was a cheap man and barely handed over enough money to buy his children clothes that fit them let alone bring the technology in the house to the modern age.

She would wash herself up in the bathroom and put on her pyjamas that she had made from old bedsheets. It was such a strange contrast that existed in that house; on the inside, everything was off somehow. Clothes didn’t fit right, it was quiet save for the television, and there was a tension in the air that made you nauseated. But on the outside, it was just another suburban family from Denver. A beautiful housewife, a older daughter working to save for university, a younger daughter in 6th grade, and a working father who brought home the bacon.

Every household had its problems, but not every household had demons, and the l/n house most certainly had one.

When she was fresh and clean, she would walk past the living room to go to bed; her father would call to her. She always hoped she would be quiet enough, or quick enough that he wouldn’t catch her out of the corner of his eye.

But it was never enough.

“You finished?” He would say to her.

“Yes dad.” She replied robotically, her eyes glazing over.

Then he would look her in the eye, stand and stalk over to her. He glared down at her and would strike her once across the face. At one time she would have wept and clutched her cheek, but not anymore.

“Don’t fucking lie to me you whore. Go upstairs and wait for me…” he would slur and push her towards the stairs. She was numb at that point. She didn’t even bother to look at her mother for help- she wouldn’t do anything.

It had all started when her sister, Alison, was born. She was the apple of his eye now, and he never laid a finger on her. But y/n was old news to him, and he had grown tired of her. His reasonings changed from day to day as to why he would beat her until the neighbours complained, but they never made sense.

His most reliant one was that he was tired of having her in the house. That she needed to move out and stop freeloading. But he knew how many times she had tried to do exactly that. She worked from sunrise to sun down just so she would never need to rely on his money and grovel to him. She had looked for apartments and cars to buy so she could be free. But if she left, then he would have no punching bag; he wanted her to hurt more than anything else. To feel the shame that he refused to take accountability for. He was a cruel man. Narcissistic and selfish.

So just like she always did, she would walk up the carpeted stairs, and sit on her bed. It was a hot July night, and she was already sweating. She knew the blood he would draw would join it soon as it pooled down her back. She hoped that the beating that night wouldn’t open the deep wound by her spine from where he had drank an extra beer and used his belt buckle instead of just the leather. It had needed stitches, but he didn’t let her go to the hospital. A few large bandaids was all she got.

The familiar dull ringing in her ears began again. It was her brain’s way of helping her cope. It would start in her head and a fuzzy vibration would go down her arms and her legs until she could feel nothing. She would sing to herself quietly until he was done. New songs that she had heard on the radio, or old ones from her childhood.

But that night, something changed. As she sat on the edge of her floral bedspread, she noticed that he was taking longer than usual. Her anxiety began to rise as she wondered if he was finding something worse than his belt to beat her with.

Before she could stop herself her feet her on the floor and she was walking to her door. She stared down the stairs and could still hear the television on. Y/n waited there a moment, listening and staring.

Then, something in her snapped.

Without a second thought, her legs carried her down the stairs at a lightning speed. She barely registered her father getting up from his seat or her mother and sister watching her dash through the front hall. But she only had one focus.

Run.

She unlocked the front door and threw open the screen so hard that it rattled against the frame. The warm night air hit her as she bolted across the deck and down the stairs, across the front lawn and over the perfect white picket fence. She didn’t care where she went, her adrenaline was guiding her.

She ran as fast as she could possibly go, taking cuts and corners through yards and streets to lose her father who had taken off after her. She ran and ran and ran even as her feet grew raw from the pavement.

She ran until she looked behind her and she could not see the looming image of her father or hear him screaming her name.

But as she turned back to view the street in front of her, she collided with something. She would have fallen to the ground if they hadn’t caught her and set her upright. Then they spoke.

“Woah! Hey look out.” He cried, though it wasn’t wholly angry. A man.

But she barely heard him, “Please. Please you have to help me sir!” She pleaded, tears beginning to form. She clutched at his shirt and looked everywhere to check that her father wasn’t right there.

What if he just turned me back to my father?

She couldn’t see whoever she was pleading with due to her tears, but she knew he was not small or weak, and she saw the large dog by his side.

He shook his head, “What are-“

She tried to suck in breaths to stop her hyperventilating.

“I’m begging you! He-he’s going to kill me-“

“Y/N?!” As if on cue, she heard the sound of her father scream her name, not caring about the neighbourhood. She spun around in the direction she heard it, then finally looked up at his eyes; they were the only thing she could truly see in the dim light of the evening. They were bright blue.

They were beautiful.

He seemed to asses the situation for a moment before speaking again, “ That man’s your dad?” He asked glancing at the figure coming down the far end of the street.

She looked behind her frantically, then turned back to the man in front of her. “Yes. Yes you have to help me he beats me and after tonight I think he’ll just dump me in a ditch.” She was almost sobbing.

The man sighed.

“Alright …shh. Here.” He said gently, and slipped off the jacket he wore over a grey t-shirt and hung it over her shoulders. “Take my hand, okay? You need to act like you’re with me.” His voice was calming, like he was trying to coax a scared little animal to come with him. And in a way, he was.

She nodded obediently, and pulled the the fabric around her; it smelled nice. Just like he told her, she took his hand, and he gripped the leash of his massive hound as they began walking calmly away from the road that her father was barreling down. As they drew further down another street, she could hear the sound of her father’s running feet by the intersection they had just left, and to her horror, the sound stopped.

“Hey buddy!” Came the voice of her father shouting from the end of the road. The man next to her slowed his steps, and whispered, “Don’t turn around.” She nodded and busied herself with looking down at the brutal dog by his side. She truly could not have chosen a better person to run into.

“Can I help you?” The man called back.

“You seen a girl runnin’ down the street? Pretty face, and about this tall?” Her father yelled, though he was clearly out of breath; holding his hand up to be around his eldest daughter’s height.

The man shrugged and shook his head, “Can’t say I have. Just been out with my girl and my dog but we haven’t seen anything, did you sweetheart?” He turned to her and she shook her head. She was unbelievably thankful for her father’s intoxicated state and the darkness of the street, otherwise he probably would have noticed her bare feet and pyjama shorts sticking out under the cardigan around her shoulders. “Yeah, no we haven’t seen anyone aside from yourself. Lost someone?”

“Yeah my fucking daughter ran off. She’s a stupid little thing…thinks she’s better than her old man.” Her father said. She could hear him start to walk again, and she began to panic when she realised he was coming closer.

The dog next to them let out a deafening bark that made her jump.

“Sampson here doesn’t do well with strangers…he’ll bite your hand clean off.” The man said with a light laugh, nodding down the the now growling hound. His hand still held hers, and she found herself gripping his tighter.

She heard her father’s steps come to a quick stop, “Don’t want any trouble, my guy. Thanks.” She could hear his slurred words as he backed away and started off jogging in the other direction. It wasn’t until the sound faded away that the man next to her turned back around and began walking.

She held in a sob from the close call, and it came out in a slight whimper.

Her heart felt as if it would beat right out of her chest and onto the pavement. Her hands shook like a leaf in a breeze, and the man seemed to feel it.

“We’re almost there.” He murmured, pulling her along.

She only nodded, her jaw too tight to say a word.

They arrived at a small house, and she let him take her inside. It was plain and simple inside, but anywhere was better than the hell she had just run from. The man sat her down on a chair, and took his dog out to the back door where she assumed was where he would stay. She stared down at a tiny crack on the floor, jumping at every sound until the man came back. She still hadn’t seen his face properly, even then in the kitchen there was a very dim light that kept half his face in shadows., but she liked his voice. It was light and kind sounding.

When he returned, he looked through a cupboard, then knelt down in front of her and held something in his hand. “Open up. This’ll help, sweetie.” he whispered. She looked at his hand with a twinge of worry as common sense began to set in to not take food from strangers, and he chuckled. “It’s just a chocolate. You don’t like chocolate?” He asked in a voice that reminded her of how parents spoke to their child. It was playful.

She stared at his large hand, and opened her mouth after a moment. He unwrapped the sweet and popped it onto her pink tongue. While she still didn’t look at him as she chewed the chocolate, she could feel him watching her. A part of her was ashamed for literally crashing into the poor man on his nightly walk with his dog, and begging him for help; that side was winning at that moment, and thus she could not meet his eyes.

“I…I can’t thank you enough…I don’t know how to repay you…” she managed to say, a sob threatening to sneak out.

He tsked her a few times, and brushed some of her now messy hair back, “I couldn’t just leave a pretty girl like yourself out there all scared now could I? There’s some real weirdos out there…” he said. She laughed a little, and found that her body felt unbelievably tired. The adrenaline was wearing off, she supposed.

“…I…I feel sleepy…” she whispered, rubbing her forehead.

“Well you ran like a bat outta hell, I’m not that surprised.” He laughed.

She laughed weakly, holding her head in her hand and she slumped forward. His voice was the last thing she heard before her vision blurred into darkness, and three words rang in her head.

“Sweet dreams, y/n.”

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

@dogmatic255

#ethan hawke #the grabber #the grabber x reader #the black phone #albert shaw

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messers-moony · 2 years ago

Text

Devotion: Chapter Twenty-Two | F.H

Paring: Five Hargreeves X Fem!Reader (Series)

Summary: In which the Hargreeves siblings come together to stop the end of the world.

Disclaimer: I don’t own the Umbrella Academy. All rights go to the creators of the show, the comics and everyone in between. Gifs used in these chapters are NOT mine and are/were found on Pinterest.

Warnings: Cursing, Sex, Nudity, Violence, Gore, Alcohol, Drugs, Smoking, Intense Scenes, and Abuse (if I missed any let me know)

—Tempered Timeline

❝Thank you for your time.❞

She was tired. There was nothing more she wanted than to sleep. The universe was never kind. It was unusual to think that it would change its ways for one time. Everything looked the same. The interior hadn’t changed a day. Y/n was getting a headache. She tucked her hair behind her ears and turned around. Ben was still standing there. He looked nothing like the boy she knew.

“Ben.”

He narrowed his eyes. Luther walked toward him, “Is that really you?”

“And who are the weirdos on the balcony?” Y/n and Klaus jumped at Diego’s shouting.

“Jesus Christ,” Y/n muttered.

“They are the Sparrows.” Reginald replied, “My children.”

Y/n felt the house rumble beneath her feet. She turned to Five with wide eyes, “I'm sorry. What do you mean, your children?”

“That's not possible, old man.”

“Of course it is!” Reginald said, “I think I'd know, wouldn't I?”

She turned around to see all of them. They were standing with Ben on the foyer floor. Y/n counted. They only had seven. Her head was pounding. Y/n watched Klaus point at Ben, “Everybody else can see Ben, right?”

“A little too clear,”

“Cute hat, Sundance.”

“They call themselves the Umbrella Academy, a group of scheming, perfidious malcontents who accosted me in the fall of 1963 when I was away on business in Dallas.” Reginald announced, “Be warned. They claim to be my spawn.”

“Claim?” Allison asked, “Look, Five, what the hell is going on?”

“I don't know yet, but it's concerning.”

“Is he telling the truth?” Y/n turned to see the man with dark skin and hair.

Vanya tilted her head, “Not the part about us being perfidious.”

“No,” Klaus replied, “We’re amateur-fidious, at best.”

“But we are his children.” Vanya said, “This is our house.”

“Yeah, yeah. We, uh… We grew up here.”

Y/n sighed. The man with the melting face seemed amused, “‘Yeah, we grew up here.’”

“I kind of think we would have noticed you.” Long brown hair said.

“Hi. I'm Luther.”

“Okay. None of you belong here.”

“Oh!” The short-haired woman exclaimed, “Well, then. I guess we'll just pack our bags and move out.”

Y/n jumped when the cube started speaking. She tilted her head. It was just making squeaking noises. The cube’s head had nothing inside. She wondered if it was another one of Reginald’s experiments gone wrong, “You slay me, Chris.”

She heard heels on the floor and saw Grace in the archway. She still looked the same. She had a floral shirt with a blue and white apron. Grace was holding a white plate with cookies piled on top, “I wasn't expecting company. This is the best I could do on short-“

“Short… Short notice.” Her voice got deeper as it stuttered.

“Mom.”

The black-haired woman scowled, “Mom? She's a robot, you perv.”

“It's not a robot.”

“Hey,” Luther called, “Don’t you call him that.”

“Or what?”

“Come closer and find out.”

“Luther!” Vanya called, “Guys, chill!”

Y/n tuned out the arguing. She was rubbing her temples. Their thoughts were so loud. Five tapped her left shoulder. She looked up to see his green eyes filled with concern. Y/n gave a week smile. He left his right hand on her shoulder. She consumed herself with his thoughts. He was worried and concerned, but not just for her. He was afraid for his family and concerned that they’d get hurt. She jumped, and Five’s hand lost contact with her shoulder when Klaus was punched.

“Hey!” Luther yelled, “What the hell? You didn't have to do that!”

Ben shrugged, “Oh, I'm pretty sure I did!”

“He did.”

“Get back!”

“Luther, hey!”

The dark-skinned male grabbed Luther’s stomach, “Back off!”

Y/n watched Luther throw his punch as the other man ducked. The man kicked him in the stomach and lifted Luther off his feet into Klaus. Y/n hissed as the couch flew backward from the weight. Luther fell on the rug beside Reginald, on top of Klaus. She could hear Klaus groaning. Y/n saw the man with the melted face heading toward her. She followed Allison and Vanya into the foyer.

Her back was to the stairs. The man had his back to the wall separating it from the living room. He chuckled and tilted his head at her, “How old are you, little girl?”

“Does it really matter?”

“I suppose it doesn’t.” He said, crossing his arms, “I’d prefer not to go to jail for sending a minor to the hospital.”

Y/n shook her head, “What’s your name, tough guy?”

“Why?”

“You’ll need a headstone, won’t you?”

“Alphonso.”

She smiled, “Thank you for your time.”

He furrowed his eyebrows before he started groaning. Y/n clenched her fist. She could hear the bones in his right arm shattering until she felt the same pain in hers. She whined and lifted her left hand. Y/n held it facing her right arm, palm out and started holding the bones in place. She could feel the energy leaving her body. It felt like a beam ripping it from her.

“How- How are you doing this?”

Y/n chuckled through the whining, “I’m not just a little girl,”

She waved her right hand and watched it bend backward. Y/n’s left hand fixed her bones before releasing the hold on herself and Alphonso. He grunted and fell to his knees. His left hand holding his right arm. Alphonso squinted at her, “You’re more powerful than I thought.”

“Well,” Y/n said smiling smugly, “Practice does make perfect, doesn’t it?”

Y/n turned around in the foyer to see Allison and Vanya gone. She sighed. Alphonso couldn’t do much with a broken arm, and Y/n couldn’t do much. She stood in the middle of the foyer when she heard footsteps on the wooden stairs. Y/n sighed, and Alphonso held a gleeful smile. But they weren’t footsteps.

She looked down to see a boy in navy clothes at her feet. Y/n sighed and kicked his side lightly. He groaned. Y/n chuckled, “So, how was your trip down the steps?”

“Oh,” Five replied, “Fucking magnificent.”

Y/n laughed until she heard a voice in the living room, “See?”

“Bigger isn’t always better.”

“Is that what you tell your girlfriends?”

She saw the man from earlier standing on the coffee table. Luther was standing up. He swiped his feet as the other man jumped. The man lifted his leg from swinging and swiped Luther in the face. Luther groaned and flew over the couch. Five whined at her feet.

“Come on, Five.”

Y/n extended her hand, and Five took it. He dusted himself off, and Y/n moved the sleeve of her shirt over her hand. She started wiping at the blood on his forehead. Five swatted her hand away, “I need you to save Luther’s ass.”

“What’s new?”

“I’m gonna find Allison,” Five said, “We need to get the fuck out of here, quick.”

“All right, I’ll see you on the other side.”

She heard a wisp, and Five was gone. Y/n sauntered into the living room. Her shoes made no noise against the usually noisy tile floor. The Sparrows were gathered around Luther in a small circle. Y/n overheard them talking about dinner and learned that the dark-haired man’s name was Marcus. He had a foot on Luther’s chest.

“Yeah, that's the wrong answer, dude.”

Ben held up a finger to Alphonso, “Let him finish him off.”

“Then let's end this.”

Y/n cringed at Marcus stomping on Luther’s chest. She could hear the ribs breaking, and Marcus went for one final step. His foot was held mid-air. He pushed down again and struggled. His foot wouldn’t meet Luther’s chest, and Alphonso groaned. Marcus’ foot flew into the air, and he lost his balance. He fell onto his back. The Sparrows turned behind.

“Hello.”

“This is the girl who broke your arm?” The black-haired girl asked.

Alphonso nodded, “Yes, Jayme.”

“She looks the same age as the little boy I just kicked down the steps.”

Y/n narrowed her eyes, “Excuse me?”

“Protective, huh?” Jayme snickered, “Cute.”

Y/n didn’t get a chance to reply. Jayme was releasing a black substance from her mouth. Y/n saw the black veins in her neck and watched it fly from her mouth. She chuckled before holding up her palm. The substance stayed floating in between them. Y/n chuckled at Jayme’s shock.

“Yeah?” Y/n crossed her arms, “Let’s try that again.”

The black substance hit Jayme in the cheek. She seemed spaced out, and her eyes dilated. Y/n jumped when she heard Vanya’s voice, “Luther!”

“Vanya!”

She looked up and saw Vanya being held in the air. Vanya floated over to the living room, “Luther, Y/n, go! Get out!”

Vanya was pulled down faster than Y/n could counter. Vanya’s back hit the coffee table, and the table broke into wooden splinters. Y/n looked around and saw Luther gone. She sighed with relief. Y/n walked into the foyer and heard a wisp. She turned to see Five frantically looking around, “Where’s the briefcase?”

“Shit,” He cursed, “It’s gone.”

His eyes widened when they saw her. He held out his hand, and she didn’t take it. Y/n was staring in the living room, “Vanya, get out of there!”

Y/n watched the Sparrows surround Vanya. She was still lying on the broken coffee table. Y/n felt someone grip her hand tight. She looked down and saw Five’s hand wrapped securely around her wrist. Vanya’s skin went pale-white, and her chest began glowing. She couldn’t see anything else before blue electricity surrounded her like an old friend.

They appeared outside the Academy. The warm air hit her like a brick. The spatial jumps were always freezing cold. She saw Luther, Allison, Diego, and Klaus standing outside. Her body shivered. Five pulled her into his chest. His heart was beating erratically. Y/n’s body was trembling.

“You’re okay,” Five assured, “You’re okay.”

Y/n released a shaky breath, “I’m- I’m okay.”

She pulled away from him. Everyone was staring at them, “You try getting spatial jumped when you aren’t expecting it.”

“I have!” Diego raised his index finger.

“I’m aware.” She deadpanned, and Diego smiled.

Five sighed, “Come on,”

Y/n tucked her hair behind her ears. Five walked in front of the others. Luther and Allison weren’t far behind him. Klaus strolled the streets like a dazed cat. Y/n and Diego walked together in the back. His arm wrapped around her shoulders. They walked ten minutes away, and Y/n couldn’t feel her legs. Five led them to a park.

The grass and scenery was beautiful. She found herself enjoying it despite her body feeling numb. Beside a pond was a white bridge with two white picnic tables and two brown benches. Y/n rubbed her temples before stumbling onto the first picnic table. She sat on the table and put her feet on the seat.

Everything was too much. The sun was too hot. Her clothes were too itchy. Everyone was too loud. Her ears were ringing. Her head was pounding. Everything was spinning. Someone was talking, but she couldn’t hear them. The trees turned into green blobs. Everyone turned into mostly black chunks except for Five, who looked navy. He was snapping his fingers in her face.

She didn’t get to reply because she fell head first into his jaw. Her skull pounded as a result.

The beach was a blur too. She couldn’t see. Her hearing was very faint. Her head still pounded. Y/n took a deep breath and opened her eyes. She could see concerned jade ones staring back at her. A steady hand on her left shoulder kept her in place. She rubbed her eyes, and everything went slightly into focus. Y/n saw Five in front of her and turned to see Diego on her left. His hand stroked her shoulder.

Y/n turned more to the left to see Klaus lying on a picnic table on his back. His hair was sprawled against the wooden surface. The sun glazed his face. She saw Allison and Luther sitting on a park bench together. Allison had dried blood beneath her nose, and Luther had dried blood all around his hairline. Diego didn’t seem to harm, and Five had a massive spot on his left temple.

“Oh,” Klaus sighed, “I'm cracking.”

“You all right?”

“I don't know yet.” Luther said, “I've just never had my ass handed to me like that before.”

He sighed, “It's like… Here you go.”

Y/n watched him cup his hands as a giving gesture, “It's your ass.”

“Okay, I think Luther's concussed.” Allison declared.

Klaus sat up on the seat of the picnic bench. He held out three fingers, “Luther, how many fingers?”

She groaned. The sun was too bright on her still sensitive eyes. Her head laid on Five’s shoulder. It pounded. She needed Tylenol. Y/n saw Luther look around. His eyes widened, “Oh my God. Vanya.”

Allison nodded and pointed toward the park entrance. Vanya limped to the park bench, “Thank God you're alive.”

“You okay?”

“Apparently, so is Ben.”

“Yeah.” Allison said, “And he's a complete dickhead.”

Diego scoffed, “They're all dickheads.”

“Dickheads who can fight.”

“Okay,” Five sighed, “The next person to say ‘dickhead’ is getting a punch to the throat.”

“Dickhead.”

Y/n chuckled and felt Five shake his head. She felt Diego’s hand leave her shoulder, “Hey, did Dad tell you why he was calling them his kids?”

She heard Klaus laughing, “He sure did!”

“You ready?” He asked, “Dad was so repulsed by us back in Texas, that he adopted an entirely different group of children just so that he didn't have to raise us.”

“That's just peak Dad.”

“Isn't it?”

Vanya squinted her eyes, “So he just didn't want us anymore?”

“Did he ever?”

“See?” Luther said, “I told you we shouldn't have asked him for help in '63.”

“I think you're all missing the big picture here.” Five replied, “If Dad didn't adopt us as kids, he changed the timeline. So who knows what else is different now.”

Allison tilted her head, “Shouldn't you know?”

“Sorry, Allison, but it might take me more than 20 minutes and a traumatic brain injury to figure this all out.” Five retorted, “Is that okay with you?”

“No, actually, it's not.”

Y/n narrowed her eyes, “Jesus Christ, we just got back. Can we all get a break?”

“No, I’d like to go see my daughter,”

“Yes, and I’d like a very long nap,” Y/n deadpanned, “But we don’t always get what we want. Do we?”

“Guys, look, it's fine.” Vanya interjected, “We still have the Commission's briefcase, so worst case, we can just go back in time and fix it.”

Klaus snapped his fingers, “Great.”

“Okay. There are two problems with that statement.” Five stood up from the bench. Y/n groaned and placed her head in her palm, “First off–“

“Here we go.”

“Time travel is complicated, people.”

Diego narrowed his eyes, “Yeah, we get it. Your job is so hard. Just what?”

“And secondly…” Five hesitated, “I no longer have the briefcase.”

“Five,” Allison called, standing up, “Where the hell is the briefcase?”

Five bit his lip, “When I went to retrieve it, it was no longer there. I can only assume that Grace or Reginald took it while we were fighting.”

“Amazing,”

“Well,” Y/n blew a raspberry, “We need to get out of this park because we all look like shit. Luther and I need a lot of sleep. Allison and Five have blood dried all over their face. Klaus, Diego, and Vanya need a fucking break.”

Klaus sighed, “Agreed.”

“Yes, please.”

“Sleep sounds nice.”

Y/n swayed a little, “Perfect, let’s go.”

Five started to walk, and Vanya followed him. Luther and Allison weren’t far behind. Klaus wobbled on his feet. Diego put his arm around Y/n to keep her upright. She leaned most of her weight into his right side. The scenery was gorgeous. The trees were so green, and the flowers were vibrant. Y/n wiped the sweat on her forehead with her sleeve to find it tattered. She sighed and looked down at her pants.

Her jeans were covered in new holes. Her shoes were scuffed. Y/n’s shirt was ripped all around her body. Time travel sucked. Her entire body still felt woozy from the unexpected spatial jump. She watched people stare at them. The people gave them judging looks. She didn’t bother. She couldn’t do anything until she slept.

Allison was always too impatient, “What are we doing?”

“Ruminating.”

“Why is everyone staring at us?”

Diego narrowed his eyes, “Because we look like the damn Village People just lost a fight.”

He took Klaus’s hat. Klaus tried snatching it back, but Diego elbowed him lightly in the stomach. Y/n pushed off Diego and tucked her hair behind her ears. Her body felt like it was overheating. She couldn’t imagine what seven people, wearing all black, with dried blood, looked like.

“You know what?” Allison said, “I need to go find Claire. I will catch up with you guys later.”

“Hey, Allison, no.” Vanya replied, “First, let's get somewhere safe, clean up those cuts, and then we'll go find her.”

“Man, I hate those guys.”

Y/n looked up to see a billboard of the Sparrows. They had catchphrases on them with pictures of the members. She tilted her head. The Umbrella Academy didn’t get far enough for that. She saw Luther look loathingly at the image, “Look at 'em with their… stupid smug…”

“You can do it.” Klaus encouraged, “You can do it.”

“S- s- smug- smugness.”

Klaus sighed, “Keep working on it, big guy. You'll land one, eventually.”

“But honestly, what are we doing?” Allison asked, “We can't stand here bleeding out in this park.”

Y/n shrugged, “I’d rather bleed out in a park than the Academy.”

Diego ruffled her hair, “I don't know, but we better gear up fast before they come for round two.”

“What makes you think they'll come after us?”

“Because I would.”

Y/n chuckled, “They aren’t you, vengeance.”

“Aren’t you his Robin?” Klaus asked.

Diego laughed, and Y/n huffed. Klaus waved his hand, “We did break into their house…”

“Our house.”

“Bust up all their nice antiques and shit.”

“Yeah.” Luther said, “I don't think the crime-fighting… super nerds are gonna let that go.”

Five placed his hands in his pockets, “Let's just think of some place off the radar where we can lie low and not draw attention.”

“What kind of a weird-ass place are we not gonna draw attention?”

Y/n looked at Klaus swaying in the air. He twirled his body, moving the weight of his arms around. She saw everyone slowly turn to Klaus from her peripheral vision. Klaus looked around aimlessly at the eyes. His hair was slightly frizzed, and his dog tags made a subtle clink noise. He smiled.

“I have the perfect place.”

Klaus skipped in front of the group. Y/n shook her head lightly with a fond smile. They walked deeper into the city. The area still looked the same except for the new billboards and posters. Y/n remembered walking the streets daily to get fresh air. The parks were always so lovely. She’d walk to the pharmacy, Klaus’ rehab facility, Diego’s gym, and Vanya’s apartment.

The city was bustling with people. She heard cars against asphalt, people talking, music playing, and animals. She followed Klaus as they walked blocks away from the Academy. In the middle of downtown was a huge hotel. It was multiple stories high and made out of brick. A black overhead at the entrance read ‘The Hotel Obsidian.’ There were two revolving doors. She watched everyone walk into the left door in the same cubby.

Y/n was squished between Klaus and Diego, “Oh. Okay. Honestly? We don't all need to be squeezed-”

She stepped out of the door. The hotel lobby had a high ceiling and stairs leading up straight ahead. Elegant light fixtures were lighting up the entrance. The sun covered the room with orange rays. The floor was carpet. To the left and right were sitting areas. The main desk was to the right of the doors. To the left was a bar and buffet with a dining area.

“There were two entrances, by the way.”

“Oh, Hotel Obsidian.” Klaus said, “I missed you, you slutty old dame.”

“Absorb her. Absorb her into your bosom.” He continued, “You know, 'cause back in her heyday, she played host to world leaders. Roosevelt, Gandhi, Stalin, Gorbachev, Castro, King Olaf of Norway, one of the Kim Jongs, Tito, Dalai Lama, Elvis, and not one but two Kardashians, allegedly.”

Y/n could see people staring. She watched Allison roll her eyes and stroll away, “Wouldn't that- Where you going?”

“I gotta make a call.”

“Nowadays, she's just a flophouse, a party house for those of us not looking to be judged by society's rules and norms,” Klaus said.

“You mean a place to hide?”

“Exactly!” He exclaimed, “It's perfect!”

“And the best part of it is, she's gonna look after us, no questions asked. Never ever. Right?”

Y/n could hear phones ringing in the background. It played like a broken record. She followed Klaus to the front desk. It was wooden and had a black countertop. Behind the black countertop was a pug sitting on a fluffy pink bed. Y/n tilted her head, and the dog just kept panting.

Klaus tapped the bell, “Chet! Mon frère! It's so great to see you.”

A man wearing a blue and yellow blazer approached the counter, “I'd like my usual suite, por favor.”

“I've never seen you before.” Y/n watched Luther and Diego pet the small dog.

“See? Told you.” Klaus said, “Discreet.”

“Please stop scaring my dog.” Both men backed away as Y/n snorted.

“We need some rooms, please.”

“Super,” The man grabbed a sign from behind the counter, “And how will we be paying today?”

The sign read ‘Cash up front.’ Y/n sighed. Luther rolled his eyes, “Fine. Empty your pockets.”

Y/n dug through her pocks. She could feel the silver knife still in her front pocket. Y/n squeezed the handle with her fingers. The cold metal was soothing on her sweaty palms. In her back pocket was a wallet she had stolen in Dallas. It had cash inside, but she left it in her back pocket.

She watched Klaus pull out condoms from his pocket. Diego grabbed his knife and held it from the black handle. Five held out the old Commission candies. She slapped and took the sweets from his hand. Y/n threw them back into the main entrance. Five narrowed his eyes. Vanya held out peppermints.

“Condom?” Luther asked, “Put the knife away!”

Diego put his knife back into his pocket. She watched Luther dig through his pockets and pull out a translucent item, “Why do I have a hairnet?”

Y/n watched him look at his wrist and take off the watch from Elliott’s, “What does this get us?”

Chet took the watch and looked at it under a magnifying glass. Y/n tilted her head. The man looked and placed the watch on the counter. Chet turned around and grabbed two keys sitting side by side. The keys jingled as he put them on the black countertop, “Two rooms. Mazel tov.”

“Awesome.” Klaus took the key to the left.

Allison snatched the right key, “Well, let's Brady Bunch this bitch.”

Y/n sighed, and her shoes dragged on the carpet to the elevator. Five looked around, “Uh, meet back in the bar in two hours so we can make a plan.”

“I have a plan.” Diego said, “We attack the Sparrows, and we take back our house, and then we punch Dad a bit until he admits that we're better and he loves us more. Boom! Done! We're wasting time!”

She slumped up the stairs. Her legs still felt like jello. Y/n leaned on the elevator behind Five. She watched him click a button and closed her eyes. Klaus and Diego were talking, but she couldn’t hear them. Y/n felt someone push her, and she stumbled forward. Five flew forward and gripped the front of the elevator. He turned around to see her holding desperately onto the railing. He sighed.

The elevator creaked, and she felt it beneath her feet. It was a slow ride to their floor. It was quiet. The doors dinged open three minutes later. Y/n groaned and opened her eyes. She followed Diego. Klaus put the key into the door, and it clicked open. It had green palm wallpaper. The doorframe was cracked. There were two windows letting light in. The carpet was no different from the lobby. There was a mattress in the right corner and bunk beds in the left corner. Y/n saw a couch in the middle of the two windows. To the left were two armchairs with a small circle table.

“Oh!” Klaus gasped, “See? It's paradise.”

“High ceilings, sense of space. Aromatic.”

“What the hell? Diego cursed, “Where's the bathroom?”

“Down the hall, or…” Y/n watched Klaus open the window closest to the bunk beds, “Nature's bathroom.”

Diego sniffed, “You're disgusting.”

“But consistent.”

Y/n watched Five shrug off his blazer, “Let's unpack. Settle in.”

She rubbed her eyes tiredly. Y/n watched Klaus unzip his pants and sighed. She watched Five put his blazer on the pole of the bunkbeds. Y/n sat on the bottom bunk and untied her shoes. Luther looked around the room, “Unpack? Unpack what? We don't own anything anymore.”

“Yes, Luther.” Five retorted, “Isn't that liberating?”

“What are you, a commie?”

Y/n heard urine trickling from her left and kicked off both her shoes. Five watched her slide into the bottom bunk. Y/n scooted against the wall. She thought the bed was smaller than a usual twin. Y/n pulled the comforter from above the pillow and slid under it. It was itchy. The pillow was rough beneath her cheek. She closed her eyes and felt someone sliding into it beside her. She felt someone put their arm around her. Y/n opened her eyes to see Five pulling her onto his chest. She moved her cheek and placed it on his chest. Her eyes were slowly drooping.

“No!” Diego yelled, “If I wanted bunk beds and group showers, I would've stayed in the Texas nuthouse.”

“Quite frankly,” Y/n muttered, “I’d rather be here.”

Diego scoffed, “At least they had free Jell-O.”

“I didn’t get Jell-O.”

The bed squeaked as Luther sat on it. Y/n snorted, and Klaus climbed on the top bunk. She watched Diego mutter something under his breath, but Klaus creaked the bed above her, “Jell-O!”

“Hey, Diego,” Five called, “I just spent the past 20 straight days saving the world. Twice.”

“Can I get five minutes to relax before figuring all the new kinks out? Please and thank you.”

Y/n watched Diego groan and hit his head against the wall. She chuckled and closed her eyes. Five was a better pillow. Her body curved against his. Klaus was still jumping above her, and Luther’s mattress occasionally squeaked, but she didn’t want to be elsewhere. She let her breathing even out and slipped into sleep.

She was protected, loved, and secure. That was enough for now.

The beach was peaceful. The waves hit her feet, and the stars were bright. She leaned her back against the sand. It was in her hair and getting in her shirt. The cool breeze hit her face. It felt so long since she’d looked at the stars and their intricacies. She saw constellations and remembered their stories. She spoke to no one and let her body relax in the hands of her dream world. Y/n woke up to Five moving from beneath her.

She groaned and opened her eyes before closing them again. The sun was still too bright. Five chuckled and closed the curtains before kneeling at the bed. Y/n opened her eyes to see the room barely lit by the lightbulbs. She sat up and rubbed her eyes, “I forgot what a deep sleeper you are.”

“Shut up.”

“How did you survive the Commission?” He snickered, “You sleep like a rock.”

She shrugged, “I dunno.”

“You need new clothes and a shower.”

“Are you trying to tell me something, Hargreeves?”

“No,” He replied, “But I’m going to have a shvitz.”

“Okay,”

Five smiled before getting off the bed. She heard his shoes tap against the floor. The door opened and shut closed behind him. Y/n stretched before swinging her legs off the mattress. Thankfully, they no longer felt like jello. She got up and walked out of the room. The door closed with a click. Y/n walked down the hallway to find the bathroom and opened the door.

It was disgusting. The white tiles weren’t white. There were three bathtubs in the center of the room. Straight ahead were three sinks and three mirrors. They were put in three stations. On the side of the room were shower stations with blue doors. Y/n sighed before walking into the first one on the left. She swung the door closed and locked it. In the stall were shampoo, conditioner, and body wash. She stripped her clothes and placed them out of the water’s reach. She turned the water to warm and started her shower.

The bathroom was disgustingly humid when she opened the shower door. Her tattered long sleeve stuck to her arms, and her pants were uncomfortably tight. Y/n’s hair was still damp. She took a towel and dried it the best she could. It was still wet, but it wasn’t dripping. Y/n walked out of the bathroom and took an elevator to the lobby. She saw Klaus, Luther, and Diego opening Chinese food containers in the dining room. She smiled and took a seat on Diego’s right.

Diego was setting out the boxes. He handed one to Y/n, “Figured you’d be hungry. This is all yours, sis.”

“Thank you,” Y/n grabbed a slip of chopsticks.

She bent the metal bar down and unfolded the top of the box. The smell of food made her more hungry. Y/n dug her chopsticks into the container and started eating. Luther and Diego shoved chow mein into their mouths as Klaus ate delicately. She snickered as Klaus picked around at his container.

“You should try chewing,” Klaus said, “You might actually taste the food.”

“I haven't eaten in days.”

Y/n saw the chair to her right get pulled backward. Five was plopping himself on the wooden chair. His hair was still slightly damp, and he wore a fluffy white robe. Y/n tilted her head, and Luther narrowed his eyes, “What's wrong? You look happy.”

“I am plenty happy. Had a nap and a shvitz.” Five replied, “What does a man need?”

“Brothers who don't eat like barn animals?”

Y/n snorted as Diego and Luther looked up. Five smiled fondly, “So I've been thinking through our little timeline snafu, and I'm pleased to report that in my professional, expert opinion, we are totally in the clear.”

“Awesome!”

“Huh!”

“Great.”

“Yeah.” Luther said, “So everything's totally fine?”

Five grabbed a slip of chopsticks, “More or less. I mean, there is one… small thing. It's nothing we can't manage.”

Y/n watched him grab a container and start to open it. Diego was still chewing, “So spit it out, Boomer!”

“Fine, Diego, it's like this.” Five said, “Dad didn't adopt us as babies, but those babies still existed here. We just grew up in different places with different people.”

“So?”

“So where are they now?” Five asked, “Odds are, we each have identical versions of ourselves walking around out there, living completely different lives.”

Luther gasped, “Our doppelgängers!”

“That's a made-up word,” Klaus replied.

“No, no! I learned all about this in Texas.” Luther said, “Tell him about the paranoid psychosis, Five.”

Y/n narrowed her eyes, “You mean paradox psychosis?”

“Yes,”

Diego glared, “I thought you said this wasn't a problem.”

“Okay, yes, technically, if you're near your doppel for long, you'll go insane. So, if you see your other self-“

“Kill them.”

“Sleep with them.”

“Avoid them.”

Luther stared incredulously, “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Come on.” Klaus drawled, “As if you wouldn't climb Luther Mountain.”

“Wait,” Diego said, “How are we supposed to guarantee we don't cross paths with ourselves?”

“Easy. We're the Benetton ad of superheroes, born all around the world until Dad brought us here, which he no longer did.” Five replied, “Doppels probably aren't even in the same time zone as us.”

“That's true.”

“Yeah.”

Five pointed at a container, “Would you pass the moo shu?”

Y/n jumped when Diego lurched forward. She looked down at the chair and saw his knife sticking out. Y/n put her chopsticks in the container and placed it on the table. She turned around at the same time as Diego. There in the distance was Lila. She had blonde hair with the same choppy fringe. She had a plaid skirt, black tank top, a jean jacket, tights, and boots. In her left hand was a briefcase.

“Hold up.” Diego put his food on the table.

“I'll be right back.”

Y/n jumped off her chair and followed Diego down the halls. The hotel was grossly warm. Y/n felt the sweat piling on her back, and she sighed. She followed Diego walking through the maze of hallways. The lights were always dim, and it helped ease tension on Y/n’s eyes. They turned a corner to see Lila leaning against the wall.

Y/n crossed her arms.

#Five x you #Five x reader #Five x y/n #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves fluff #five hargreeves imagine #five hargreeves #five hargreeves x you #five hargreaves x reader #Five hargreeves x y/n #number five x y/n #number five x reader #number five x you #number five #tua #tua au #tua netflix #devotion— Five Hargreeves

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duskholland · 4 years ago

Text

Ritual || Boxer!Tom Smut

boxer!tom x reader — smut.

summary ↠ with the championship fight less than two weeks away, tom adopts a series of frustrating pre-match rituals.... based off the request ↠ ‘boxer!tom refuses to have sex for two weeks before a big match then he wins a belt and becomes the top boxer and his s/o patches him up like she does after every match, but it quickly turns into really intense victory sex with dom!tom’ I changed a couple bits but this is pretty much the same :)) warnings ↠ this gets very, very smutty. for that reason, 18+ pls !! extended nsfw warnings are beneath the cut but this spirals into v intense smut. so just. watch out pls. word count ↠ 8k a/n ↠ I almost died when I wrote this. truly. I felt a piece of my soul leave my body. sheeeesh. anyway uh... this was a lot of fun to write! I found out so many fun facts about sports psychology whilst researching this, so thanks boxer!tom for enlightening me on the fun world of pre-match-rituals. enjoy!

*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

extended nsfw warnings: fem masturbation, oral (fem and male receiving), mentions of vibrating egg, edging and denial, dirty talk, reader definitely has a pain kink (...): biting, spanking + hair pulling, face-fucking, dom!tom, rough sex™️, shower shenanigans, doggy-style, unprotected sex — please wrap before you tap if you do this irl thank you very very much !!

*:·ﾟ✧Ritual ✧·ﾟ:*

Thump. Smack. Thump.

Tom’s fists rain down over the punching bag, and there’s a metallic clicking sound as the object goes spinning in the air. You watch as he pirouettes around the bag, dodging its movements between swings, getting in hit after hit after hit. He slowly works his way around the object, his face screwed into an expression of empowered determination as he alternates which bright red glove he uses to pound against the fabric.

You sigh, loudly, the sound dying in the near-empty gym. There’s just something about Tom in the days preceding a fight that makes you squirm.

He’s different. Still the man you know and love so effortlessly, but heightened in the most attractive ways. His senses pull sharper, his jaw carrying a firm line to it, his eyes like roaring fires. As Tom pounds his fists against the bag, his sweaty brown curls stick to the top of his forehead, contrasting the bright pink tones staining his cheeks. You watch the muscles in his arms tense and flex, pale skin on display due to the tight black vest that clings tightly to his torso. You know if he turned around properly, you’d be able to make out the sunken lines of his abs, packed rigidly with muscle.

You bite your lower lip, stifling a moan. You find Tom attractive enough under normal conditions, let alone when he’s like this: eyes glowing with determination, body burning with passion as he takes swing after swing at the punching bag like he’s got a personal vendetta against it.

“Having fun?”

You startle, clutching at your chest as you turn around to look at Harrison Osterfield, Tom’s sports psychologist. A frown instantly springs out across your mouth, and you reach up to begrudgingly take the bottle of water he offers you.

“I hate you,” you grunt. You sit up a little straighter before leaning back against the wall. You’re waiting for Tom to finish his workout, sitting on one of the benches in the gym. You’d started out the session sparring together, but you’d called quits after twenty minutes against him. Unlike Tom, you don’t have the biggest fight of your career in two weeks—and, honestly, you enjoy watching him like this more than you enjoy trying to keep up with him in the ring.

Harrison frowns as he drops to sit beside you, nudging your shoulder.

“I’m wounded, love,” he says, smirking at you. “What have I done this time?”

You roll your eyes. “You know exactly what you’ve done, Haz.”

Harrison raises an eyebrow, tutting. “You know this is for the best, Y/N.”

You cross your arms over your chest. “Fuck the best.”

When Harrison had joined Tom’s team at the start of the season, he’d come boasting all the new sciences of a young university graduate. He’d suggested Tom adopt a series of rituals to help him focus before a big match—small things, initially, like taking cold showers and limiting the time he spends on his phone. Yet, as the competition has progressed and Tom has risen further and further up the ranks, the rituals have grown more intense, more focused. It’s reached the point that now, two weeks before the big match, Tom has reached his final form. As instructed, he visits the sauna every other day, receives daily massages from the most esteemed sports therapists in Europe, drinks multiple cups of pure, fresh herbal tea a day. There are no distractions—his phone is permanently on silent, he’s cut out naps, he’s eliminated music. No distractions, no impurities, no sex.

No sex, because according to Harrison, nothing gets adrenaline rushing and frustration festering like an extended period of denial. No sex, which is a problem, for you, because Tom has never looked as fit as he does now, launching himself at the punching bag, sweat dripping down his forehead. His biceps flex and bulge and you have to cross your legs as you tighten your grip on the water bottle.

“He’ll win,” Harrison mutters, lowly. You glance towards him, taking in the sight of the older man with his face doused in the harsh fluorescent lights of the gym. “He’s good. Got the best form I’ve ever seen.” He lowers his voice, glancing at you shrewdly. “Don’t distract him, alright? He’s on fire.”

You grumble something incoherent beneath your breath before sighing and sitting up straighter.

“It’s fucked that you get to decide when I get laid, Haz. You know that, right?”

He raises an eyebrow, cheeks blushing a light pink. “Uh, well, I didn’t actually know that he’d go through with that part of it,” Harrison admits. “But if it works, don’t knock it. He wants to win.”

You sit back, resting your shoulders against the wall as you groan. “I want him to win, too,” you say. You look down at your fingers, playing with some of the rings sitting behind your knuckles. “I think it’ll kill him if he doesn’t.”

Both of you look back at Tom, who’s ditched the gloves. You watch him talk with his coach, running a hand through his sweaty hair as he nods, looking focused as he listens to the pointers and tips. You release a relieved sigh as Tom’s coach pats him on the back and walks off, leaving Tom to pick up his towel and his bottle before sauntering over to you and Harrison.

“Hi.” Tom tosses his stuff onto the bench before reaching for your hands. He pulls you up easily and quickly, causing you to squeal as you find yourself in his arms. He’s hot, his entire body flushed with the sweaty, adrenaline-filled afterglow of a good, long workout, and you laugh as he dives down to kiss your neck, soft curls tickling you. “Missed you, darling.”

He works his way up your neck, nibbling softly at your skin before pressing a kiss to your jaw, then your chin, and then, finally, your mouth. It’s light, but then you push against him eagerly and wrap your arms around his neck, and pull him deeper. His tongue slips into your mouth, and you moan happily as you enjoy the feeling of Tom, his skin warm and flushed, his pulse vibrating against you, and his mouth, coming over yours again and again.

“I’m right here,” Harrison mutters, speaking up from behind you. You groan, give Tom a final kiss, and then begrudgingly pull back.

“Sorry,” you call out, stepping closer to Tom as you turn your head to look at Harrison. Tom’s arms come around your waist, and he holds you nearer, humming as he presses his face into your shoulder. “You can always leave.”

Harrison rolls his eyes as he flips you off, causing Tom to chuckle.

“Y/N,” Tom mumbles, voice fond. “Harrison can stay if he wants to stay. I was thinking we could all go get dinner or something.”

To your relief, Harrison is quick to shake his head. He pulls on his jacket as he looks between you and Tom, his eyes lingering on you for a moment as they twinkle with amusement.

“It’s fine. I’ll leave you both alone. I think Y/N’s had enough of me, anyway.” He’s teasing, and you all know it, but you still throw out an easing pout as you shrug.

“Night, Haz,” you say, leaning further into Tom, who echoes your sentiments. As soon as Harrison’s gone, Tom spins you in his arms, his brown eyes bright and glowing with adoration. He kisses you again, and you sigh as you melt further into him, the spark in the pit of your stomach roaring back to life as Tom’s tongue teases your lower lip.

“Come shower with me,” Tom murmurs, hands roaming your back. He pecks the side of your mouth a few times as you hum.

“I can’t,” you find yourself saying, though it pains you considerably. Tom abruptly stops his kisses.

“Why not?” He pouts, pulling back to stare at you. He looks a little bit like an injured puppy, eyes wide with hurt. He squeezes your waist for emphasis.

“We’re in the two-week window, Tom,” you remind him. You reach up, lightly cupping his very hot, very sweaty face, in your palm. “You know we can’t.”

He groans, then dramatically lets his forehead fall to rest on your shoulder. You chuckle, rolling your eyes as you let him pout and rub his back.

“I love you,” he says, after a moment. He pulls back, kissing your neck briefly before sighing. “Thanks for putting up with this.”

“It’s okay.” You bite your lip, tilting your head to the side as you examine him carefully. “It’s kind of hot. You get so frustrated.”

Tom just narrows his eyes, staring at you with an expression mixed between amusement and frustration.

“Go on, champ,” you say, pushing his shoulder gently. “Go shower so we can go home, yeah?”

Tom begrudgingly steps back, opening and closing his mouth a few times as if he’s going to try and change your mind again, but he doesn’t. As much as you know he wants to drag you into a steamy cubicle, his desire to win his match is stronger.

“Be back soon, darling,” he says. “Don’t miss me too much.”

———

The days burn by slowly.

About a week in, you find yourself snapping. You always try to adopt pseudo-chastity with Tom, feeling a little guilty every time you sneak your hand between your legs and chase the highs he can only dream about finding. Yet, you end up reaching breaking point and giving in to temptation one evening, alone in your flat. Tom’s out late at the gym, at the point in the regime where he’s spending most of his days hauled up in the large building, and you just can’t help yourself: you’re so horny.

If you asked him to get you off, you know he’d agree, never wanting to deny you anything. Tom loves you, loves watching you fall apart for him, loves the power trip that comes with knowing your pleasure is in his hands, but you’d just feel too mean. His refusal to have sex in the lead up is as much psychological as it is anything else—you know he finds energy in the ritual, finds aggressive, fiery hormones in the fourteen days of denial. You’d never want to put him in the position where he got tempted to break, no matter how badly you want to cum.

So, you decide to take care of your ache yourself. Or, at least, you try to.

You start off strong. Teasing yourself over your panties, drawing your fingers over the front of your covered sex. You let your eyes flutter shut as you think about Tom, recounting some of the last few sessions you’ve witnessed at the gym. You think about him, his biceps flexing and curling, the subtle curves of his long, slender fingers, his mouth. His features blur, and you find yourself moaning as you dip your fingers beneath the soft cotton and start to stroke your folds. You circle your clit for a while before dipping down to your entrance, touching the pool of your arousal and groaning as you wet your fingers. As your arousal starts to build, you tease your clit, accompanying the action with your other hand after a while. It feels good—so, so good—as you tease your g-spot with your fingers, keeping your thumb on your clit, edging, and edging, and edging, and—

You can’t cum.

A frown settles on your face as you start to grow frustrated. You try to change things up, slowing your movements, letting the high ebb away before trying again. Instead of reaching climax like you crave, you find yourself resting on the edge instead. You’re aroused, your cunt throbbing, your clit tingling, but you can’t quite get there. It’s frustrating.

You’re so caught up in your irritation that you miss the loud slam of the front door, too absorbed in the sounds of your wetness to hear Tom’s yell of greeting. Your eyes are shut as your boyfriend enters the bedroom. You’re not aware he’s home until you hear him tutting, his voice stacked full of amusement and lust. Your eyelids flutter open, and you find yourself looking at him, wide-eyed like a deer stuck in the headlight.

“T-Tom,” you whimper, your movements stilling. You have your legs spread wide open, two fingers buried in your heat, your other hand draped over your bud. A shy smile finds its way across your lips as you batter your eyelashes at him, taking a moment to appreciate the sight of your boyfriend, drowning in a black hoodie and tight blue denim jeans. His hair lies in fresh, air-dried curls, his eyes dark pools of lust. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Tom repeats, imitating your tone. He pushes himself away from the bedroom wall, walking towards you like a lion stalking his prey. You whimper when he reaches down to touch your leg, sliding his hand over your shin teasingly. His eyes glint as he hears you, gaze fixed on the spot between your legs where your hands have stilled. “Oh, please don’t stop on my account, darling,” he teases, smirking. “Keep going. Just because I can’t have fun, doesn’t mean you should have to suffer too.”

You bite your lip, recognising all too well the teasing glint in his eye.

“I can’t,” you admit, shifting around on the mattress as Tom kneels on the end of the bed. Both of his hands are on your legs now, slowly, teasingly, dragging his touch up your shins. Your breath hitches as he slowly works his way up, dipping his head so he’s able to kiss each of your knees, his lips warm and tender.

“What do you mean, you can’t?”

He’s lying down, settled between your legs, slowly kissing up the inside of one of your thighs. It’s hard to concentrate with him so close to your centre.

“Can’t get there,” you mutter, slowly pulling both of your hands away from your mound, leaving you exposed. Tom leans up, raising his eyebrows until you offer him the fingers you’d had buried inside your entrance. He hums as he sucks on your fingers, the sight of him making you moan softly. “I get so close, but I can’t get over the edge.”

Tom licks at the tips of your fingers before releasing them, smirking slowly. “What a shame,” he drawls, sounding the opposite. Both of his hands go to the soft sides of your thighs, and you let him pry your legs apart. He’s so close to your cunt that you can feel his warm breath fanning out across your bud, your folds, your entrance. “Looks like neither of us can cum this week, hmm?”

Before you can reply, Tom drops his head and buries it between your legs. You cry out, sensitive from your edging, your clit throbbing as you feel his tongue, warm and wet, circling the bud. His hands push your hips back down, holding you firmly in place as he moans, drawing his mouth all over your sex.

“Stay still, darling,” he murmurs, voice thick. He glances up at you, a wild look in his eyes. “Be a good girl and let me have a little taste.”

Your eyes roll back, and you try to lie as still as possible. Tom’s fingers slip into your cunt, exploring your passage, curling up against your g-spot as you whimper.

“So good,” you moan, already feeling your climax twitching in the pit of your stomach. One of your hands goes down to grab at his hair, digging into his curls and keeping his face exactly where you need it, and the other fists the sheets. Your chest rises and falls, your heavy pants mixing with the sounds of Tom’s fingers, fucking your wet heat, and his tongue, teasing the life out of your tender clit. “Please, please.”

“Hmm, you don’t want to cum, do you?” Tom’s words are coupled with a gradual slow in his pace, and you feel your orgasm drifting away as he stills his fingers. He laps over your clit a final time before sitting up a little straighter, looking at you straight on as his chin glistens. “If I don’t get to cum, it doesn't seem fair that you do either, does it?”

His voice is hypnotising, and when his free hand goes to rub warm circles on your inner thigh, you find yourself nodding, transfixed.

“I- I guess.”

Tom smirks, dropping his lips so he can kiss your clit, lightly.

“Are you going to wait for me, sweetheart?” He asks, pink lips puffy and inflamed.

You bite your lip. “Tom,” you whimper, frowning when he lets his fingers pull away from your heat. You watch as he licks his digits clean, still with that wide, confident smirk on his face.

“Hm?” Tom kisses your thigh. “I can make you cum, if you really want to, darling. Just thought it might be nice to do this together.” He rolls both of his hands over your legs, battering his eyelashes at you. “Promise I’ll make it worth your while. Just think about how good it’ll be to wait until next Saturday.” He pushes himself up your body, anchoring himself with a strong arm either side of your head as he suspends himself above you. Tom kisses you, roughly, but only for a moment, letting your lips pull apart when he feels you trying to slip your tongue into his mouth. “Let’s do this together, yeah?”

You hum, thinking on it for a moment, but the scent of his cologne and his fresh shampoo scramble your mind. You find yourself nodding, distracted by the glint in his eyes.

“Okay,” you agree, rolling your eyes when he grins. “We’ll do it together.”

“Good girl.” Tom kisses you, grinning against your lips. “This is going to be fun.”

———

If you’d thought the sex ban was difficult to cope with in the first week, it only gets harder in the second. After giving Tom the green light to have his way with you, he seems to channel all his frustration into you—or, more specifically, into making you as frustrated as possible. He teases you, makes you squirm, beg, cry, letting his mouth wander over your sex or his fingers explore you, any time, any place he feels like it. He never allows you to roll over your edge, just watches, usually smirking, as you try to convince him to let you climax, only to kiss you, softly, and pull away each time.

It happens in the locker room—he pushes you up against the metallic lockers and slips his fingers into you, whispering gentle words with sinful intent.

“Gonna stay quiet for me, darling? Cunt feels so desperate... So tight, so hot. Fucking snug around my fingers, aren’t you? Shh… I know, I know. Feels good for you too, doesn’t it?”

In the showers, when you’re both hot and steamy—Tom drops to his knees and slings one of your thighs over his shoulder, nuzzling his face into your heat.

“Wish I could taste this pussy for the rest of my life, love. Tastes like paradise.”

It even happens in the gym, when he pushes a vibrating egg into you and enjoys teasing you, never warning you before he ups the pace of the bullet, watching with that signature mischievousness on his face.

“Don’t get all shy now, love… I can see the way you’re squirming for me. Bet you’re making a mess in those panties, hmm? Yeah… You can’t hide from me.”

It drives you crazy—beyond crazy. If you thought you’d been mad at Harrison before, you’re practically incandescent with rage by the time fight night comes around.

As your frayed arousal combines with the nerves of the big night, you find yourself alone with Tom, half an hour before the most important match of his career. Your priorities have shifted, your mood sobered by the situation.

“Visualise it,” you murmur, voice soft. You roll your hands over Tom’s shoulders. “Think about how good it’ll feel to hold that belt in your hands.”

Tom hums. He’s sitting on one of the hard wooden benches in the locker room. You’re kneeling behind him, occasionally dropping your lips to kiss the top of his head. After months of supporting him before a fight, you know exactly what he needs: you, touching him, grounding him. He doesn’t like distractions so near to the fight, which is why he has his eyes closed. Whenever he opens them, it’s only to look at the bright red gloves settled in his lap. You know that he appreciates you, even when he’s unable to vocalise it, too lost in his thoughts.

“You’ve trained your whole life for this moment, Tom. You deserve it.”

It’s a mantra. Harrison had taught it to you. Small words of affirmation, repeated softly over the lead-up, speaking them into existence. Tom hums, listening intently.

“You’re going to win,” you speak, your own eyes shut. You focus on the feeling of his shoulders, packed firm with muscles between your hands. “You’re going to win, and then you’re going to fuck me.”

Tom shifts, his posture straightening a little, and your eyes widen as you realise you’ve let your inner thoughts interrupt the ritual.

“I don’t think that’s on Harrison’s script, darling,” he mutters, voice amused.

You reach forward, drawing one of your hands over his forehead. Your fingers play with his hair, and you scrunch up your nose as you chastise yourself for your deviation.

“Sorry,” you murmur. “Just fucking horny. Your fault.”

“Mm, sorry.” Tom grunts when you pull on his hair a little harder, and you repeat the action. “Fuck, love.” He groans louder and tilts his head to the side, exposing the pale column of his neck. “Give me a hickey?”

You oblige, dipping your head so you can rest your lips on his neck. “Where?” You ghost your lips over varying points on his skin, teasing him with light nibbles.

“There,” Tom mutters. One glance at his face confirms he’s still got his eyes shut. When you give in to his desire and start to suck a deep hickey to his skin, he grunts and reaches up to grab at your hands, squeezing your fingers roughly. “Shit.”

“There you go,” you say, voice soft as you pull back.

“Thanks, love,” Tom mutters. “Want to wear it in the ring. Good luck charm.”

You bite your lip, your centre throbbing as you listen to him. You kiss the mark, stained dark against his skin.

“You’ve got this, Tom,” you whisper, redirecting your lips to his ear. His neck prickles with goosebumps when you kiss his earlobe, softly. “You’re going to win, then you’re going to come back, and we’ll celebrate together. Okay?”

Tom’s still holding your hands, firm and eager, and you smile against his neck when he squeezes them.

“Okay,” he agrees. “I’ll win. I’ll do it for you.”

You kiss the back of his head, his soft curls gentle against your cheeks.

“Love you, champ.”

He coaxes one of your hands to his face and kisses the back of your palm.

“Love you too, darling.”

———

The atmosphere sharpens when Tom gets out to the ring.

It’s a big match. The press is here, the fight streamed live to thousands of people across the world. As Tom strides into the ring to take on his opponent, you settle at the side of it, looking up through the ropes with Harrison by your side.

Tom starts off strong—a few hard jabs here, some quick punches there. He dodges and rolls, his bright red gloves raining down over his opponent. Yet, both Tom and his rival are the best of their class, so it’s a nail-biting half-hour spent with your fingers crossed, eyes trained on your boyfriend as he throws everything he has into the ring.

When they break halfway through the match for a few minutes of respite, you’re quick to slip up into the ring and assist Tom’s trainer as they patch up his injured hand. Tom doesn’t say anything, his teeth frozen in the hard white mouth guard, but he squeezes your hand before you step out again, and you know he’s still in there.

The second half only gets more intense—both of them knowing how close the match is, and adjusting accordingly. Tom and his opponent are more reckless, more brutal, and you watch your boyfriend take risks he’d promised to never try to take. It leaves you an anxious mess, but you can’t help but watch him in awe.

Tom’s time in the ring is a performance, beautifully violent, elegantly composed. Spit sprays, sweat drips, blood rolls. He’s loud—very vocal, his sounds almost brutish. His eyes glint black, brown curls stiff with sweat, face on fire. You find it incredibly attractive to watch him in his element, not just because he physically looks incredible, but also because he’s so utterly committed to his trade that everything else fades away. His passion burns, scorches the ground, ripples over his opponent, and in the end, Tom rises, and his rival sinks.

It’s close, and though you have the suspicion that your boyfriend might have snagged it, you hold your breath until it’s confirmed. Your grip on Harrison’s hand is so tight that he curses, but you don’t release it until the MC yells Tom’s name as champion and thrusts his arm triumphantly into the air.

The arena explodes. Your ears ring as you clap and cheer, tears of pride pooling in your eyes. The first thing Tom does is turn around, looking at you with an expression of elated shock on his face. Then, after accepting the belt and speaking a few hurried words of thanks into the microphone of the leading journalist, he comes straight to you.

“Tom!” You exclaim, shaking from emotion. It’s a blend of adrenaline, pride and nerves, cooling your body, making you quiver. Tom reaches down from the ring and grabs both of your hands, jerking you up to him. You dodge past the ropes, almost tripping in his haste, but he grabs you.

Still with the bright stage lights blinding the ring, Tom sweeps you into a deep, passionate kiss, his hot hands burning into your waist. You release a loud noise of surprise, taken entirely off-guard but rolling with the punches. Tom pushes you back against the ropes of the ring as your hands curl into his sweaty hair, and your brief hope that they’ve stopped broadcasting live is set aside as Tom comes closer, caging you in with his buff arms. It’s messy and dirty, his tongue twisting against yours, lips firm, intense, but it’s everything. As you let go of the tension you’d been harbouring all evening, another very prominent emotion burns to the surface: arousal.

“I fucking did it,” Tom breathes finally, forehead pushed to yours. He sounds so proud of himself that it makes you smile, tears reappearing in your eyes as you nod.

“You did,” you confirm. You pull on his hair and push him back so you’re able to see his eyes, dark and hungry. “I’m so proud of you, baby.”

“Couldn’t have done it without you.”

He stares into your eyes for a moment, and then kisses you again, with so much intensity it knocks your breath from your lungs. When he pulls back, he uses one very hot hand to cup your cheek, holding you tightly.

“I have to do some interview shit,” Tom says, grimacing. He tilts his head at the championship belt, which now lies on the floor of the ring, discarded. He’s smirking as he brings his gaze back to you. “Meet me in the locker room? Ten minutes.”

You nod.

“Don’t be late.”

———

You wait for Tom in the team’s locker room, taking the time to lock all of the side doors that lead out from the room. His team has been around the two of you for long enough to know that it’s best to give you a wide berth in the few hours after Tom’s won a match, but you can never be too sure. Once you’re finished with that, you go to the liberty of pulling off your shoes, your jumper, and all the jewellery you’d put on for the night.

Then, you wait.

You wait, and you think about how magnificent Tom had looked as he’d fought, arms flexing, jaw set firm in a focused grimace. You rewatch the scenes of him thrusting the belt into the air, yelling elatedly. You think about how fucking mad he’s made you feel over the last two weeks, edging you and denying you, over and over again. It feels as though you’ve been permanently aroused for seven days straight, and now is no exception: just from spending all evening ogling him, you can feel your arousal wetting the front of your panties.

“Fuck,” Tom exclaims, suddenly bursting into the locker room. You turn around to watch him sling the championship belt over his shoulder as he hurries to flick the lock on the main door, knowing the routine as well as you. When he gets it, he turns and stalks over to you, picking up into a jog. “That took so fucking long,” he groans. He throws the belt away and pulls you from the bench, pushing you until your back bumps up against one of the metal lockers. Tom grins, his nose pressing to yours as he smothers you, hands back on your hips, forehead to yours, breath spreading over your face. “Couldn’t wait to get back here and see you.”

You draw your hands over his back, feeling his muscles tense and flex.

“Just see me?” You ask, ghosting your lips over his.

Tom tightens his grip on your waist. “No,” he mutters darkly. He kisses you, only for a second, but very hard. “Couldn’t wait to get back here, rip your clothes off, and finally give you everything you deserve.”

“Everything I deserve?” You raise your eyebrows, running your hands lower. “I think you deserve more, baby.” You smirk against his lips. “You just won the biggest fight of your life.”

“That’s true…” Tom steps back, only for a moment, and you watch as he reaches beneath the waistband of his gym shorts and grunts. A second later, he pulls out the hard protective cup that shields his lower half from injury in the ring, and he groans, loudly, his forehead pressing to yours. “I’m so fucking hard, darling,” he whines. He steps closer, and you feel him, stiff as a rod, pressing into your thigh. “Need to get it out of me.”

You nod, your head moving back as Tom runs a hand over your throat and tilts it to the side. His lips attack your neck, biting hard kisses to the side of your throat that make you moan, your pulse feeling strong between your legs.

“Shit,” you curse. “Get in the shower.”

Tom sucks a harsh hickey just below your ear before pulling back to wiggle his eyebrows. “The shower, eh?”

“Yeah.” You step out of his hold and start to tear off your clothes, your skin rippling with heat. “Gonna suck you off.” You fling your t-shirt to the ground and roll down your jeans, watching as Tom does the same. “Then… Then, you can fuck me… Shit, I’m definitely going to need you to fuck me.” You throw your bra aside and then push down your panties, the waistband rolling in on itself due to your speed. “I’m so wet, Tom.”

“You don’t need to convince me,” Tom says, eyes taking in your bare form. “Been dreaming about feeling you again, love.” He finally pulls down his boxers, and his hard cock springs out. “Two weeks is far too long. Get over here.”

Tom grabs your hand and tugs you into one of the wide shower cubicles. Both of you curse as he turns the valve and the water comes out freezing cold, but the stark contrast to the raging fire burning up your insides is nice.

You kiss him for a while, as the two of you get soapy and Tom washes away the grime. His skin is soft beneath your hands and the noises he makes as you massage his dodgy shoulder would be erotic enough without the presence of his cock, hard and leaking precum, resting between your thighs. You make out for a while, savouring every moment and enjoying the fact you’re now able to kiss him for longer than two seconds without worrying about exciting him too much. It’s still just as intense as before, but less hurried, and more passionate—Tom’s fingers pushing your damp hair out of your face, water droplets rolling down your figures. To be so bare in front of him and have him so ravenous for you makes you want him more than anything.

“Get back,” you murmur, pushing his shoulders. Tom obeys, his body pressing against the yellow tiled wall. You run a trail of kisses down his torso, paying attention to both of his pecs before his abs, then his v-line. Your knees bend, and you kneel on the floor, kissing up his thighs briefly before finally taking him in hand.

“Fuck-” Tom yells. His hands wind into your hair, flat palms grasping at your skull when you drag your tongue over his tip. “Been so long, love, I won’t last long at all.”

You hum as you tenderly lick over his head, absorbing his salty precum and moaning at the taste. “I know,” you say, your hand slowly tugging his length. You give his tip a chaste kiss as you blink up at him, smiling innocently. “I don’t want you to last long. I want you to cum down my throat.” Very slowly, you envelop his tip in your mouth, bobbing your head gently. You pull back after only a few moments, needing to add, “Want you to fuck my face, Tom.”

Your boyfriend moves one of his hands to your cheek, his voice strained from the way your hand is pumping his lower shaft. “Are you sure? Might not be gentle.”

“Yeah.” You nod your head too. “Want it rough. ‘M so fucking horny, and so are you. Want you to make my throat ache tomorrow.”

Tom curses, his eyes fluttering shut. “You’re so sexy,” he whines, slapping your cheek gently. “Thank you.”

You consider telling him that it’s almost as much for you as it is for him, but then you decide that the sight of his cock, flushed red, leaking precum, is your number one priority. So, you loosen your hand on his member and remove it completely, then soften your jaw and start to take him in your mouth, deep-throating him like you’ve ached to do for two weeks.

Tom’s fast to use his leverage on your head, guiding you with shaking hands. Both of you know that all you have to do to tap out is press his thigh, so you let him use you however he needs. Tears pool in your eyes as he fucks your mouth hard, his tip hitting the end of your throat until you gag. The lewd sounds mix with the pounding of the shower against the tiles and Tom’s grumbled groans that spiral up into the air.

“Shit, shit, shit,” he says, voice raspy and light. “So good, sweetheart, fuck. Such a pretty mouth. Feels so bloody good.” He breaks off for a moment, and you feel him shifting around on the wall, indicating he’s near his peak. “So messy too, fuck. Missed this. Watching you on your knees, gagging on my cock.” He tightens his grip on your hair and pushes you deeper, groaning loudly as he does so. “Fuck, I’m gonna blow. Gonna cum all down your throat. Shit, shit-”

Tom stops moving your head as he yelps, one of his hands curling into a fist and hitting back against the wall as he cums suddenly. You swallow around him, pulling up until your lips are at his tip, and your hand goes up to pump the rest of him through his orgasm. His entire body shakes, releasing the pent-up frustration that comes with so long in denial, and you take joy in the light whimpers he deposits into the air as you suck on his tip, cleaning him up.

“Holy…” Tom grabs your hair and pulls you back up, slumping against you instead of the wall as he pants. After taking a moment to gather himself, he pulls back to look at you, his thumb coming up to play with the beads of his cum that stain the corner of your mouth. “Made a mess,” he coos, pushing his seed onto your tongue. You grin as you suck his thumb further into your mouth, delighting as he curses. “You’re going to be the death of me, sweetheart. You really are.”

You release his finger with a pop, shrugging. “How was that?”

Tom groans again, the sound almost orgasmic. “So good,” he mumbles. “Been so long, darling. So, so long.” He kisses your face, dusting your cheeks in light, loving kisses. When he pulls back, his eyes are a little darker. “Bet you’d like to chase that high too, wouldn’t you?” He accompanies his words with a sly hand, slipping down between your legs. When he feels your slick, so pronounced it’s coating your inner thighs, he tuts, smirking. “All this for me?”

You nod, whining breathlessly as he slips two fingers up to toy with your bud. You feel like a livewire—strung out and pulsing, white-hot. Unlike him, you’ve had some stimulation over the last two weeks. Just, you’ve also been cruelly pulled away from the edge, every single time.

“Just for you,” you agree. Your face drops forward, and you find yourself biting Tom’s broad shoulder as he curls two fingers into you with ease.

“You’re so hot in here,” he mutters, “and so wet, too. Fuck, love. You’re dripping down my hand.” When he angles his digits up to caress your g-spot, he strikes it immediately, and you moan noisily. “There you go, baby. Shh. It’s okay.” Tom fucks your tight heat, gradually unravelling you. “I’ve got you.”

Your moans come out strangled, and you feel yourself clenching around his fingers as your high builds quickly. It won’t take much to push you over the edge, and as much as it pains you—

“I don’t want to cum on your hand, Tom,” you manage, your voice betraying you by splitting into a whimper. “Want to cum on your cock.”

Tom slows his fingers, but he keeps thrusting them into you, just too slowly for you to peak. You groan, your centre pulsing as he keeps you burning near the edge, his lips on your neck again. He gently kisses up to your ear, mouth feather-light.

“Are you sure?” He coos, nibbling at your earlobe. “Feels like you want to cum.” When Tom adds his other hand, two fingers gently stroking your tender bud, your knees almost give out. “Can feel you clenching around me, Y/N, naughty girl.” He kisses just below your ear. “If you want something, you know how you need to ask for it.”

You’re all over the place, your eyes squeezed shut, sweat breaking out over your forehead, your cunt clenching and releasing every other second. You’re so close you can almost taste it, but you try to exercise self-control.

“Please, Tom.” It takes everything in you, but you manage to stand up straighter again, looking at him straight-on. His eyes dance dark with power and lust, his smirk unmoving as he thrusts his fingers a little faster. “W-Want you to fuck me. Been waiting so long, don’t want to fall apart if it isn’t with you behind me. Please, please, please, please-”

He cuts you off with a hard kiss, and finally, Tom pulls his hands away. He runs them both through the stream of water before reaching back to clumsily turn off the valve.

“I fucking love you,” he tells you. “Couldn’t deny you anything. Not really.” Tom takes your hand. “C’mere.”

Tom carefully pulls you over to one of the wooden benches. After draping a towel over the wooden slats, he pushes you down onto your hands and knees, his fingers spreading your legs. You whimper as you feel his cock, hard again, refracted in the interlude he’d constructed with his hands working you into insanity. Your knuckles clench around the slabs of wood, and despite already feeling the ache in your knees, it only spurs you on. You love the pain, love the visible, throbbing reminders of Tom, and he knows it just as much as you do.

“Look so pretty like this, darling,” Tom says, voice drifting through the air. Both of his hands go to your ass, roughly massaging your skin until his right hand slaps down across you, stinging bright hot. He repeats the action when you moan loudly, the slapping sound ringing out through the air. Each time his hand falls over you, you only grow hotter. It doesn’t matter that you’re still covered in water from the shower, you’re burning up. “G’nna let me take you like this, eh? Fuck this tight little pussy, like I know you’ve been dreaming of.”

When Tom lines his tip up with your entrance, you find yourself clinging to the edge of the bench with your fingers.

“Yes,” you beg, backing up against him. You feel like you might dissolve into a mess of arousal, tears, and desperation if he doesn’t satisfy you soon. “Please.”

Tom runs a hand up your back, fingers drifting over the line of your spine. He drops his lips and kisses the lower part of your back, so delicately it makes you quiver.

“Okay,” he says. “G’nna give it to you good.”

He enters you quickly and easily, and you almost lose it from the first thrust alone. You’re so slick that Tom’s swift in pulling back and then slamming back into you, his hands holding your hips back and in place as your arms wobble and your figure loses control. You drop your head between your arms, the blood rushing to your skull and making you feel light-headed as he rocks into you, over and over again, giving you everything you’ve ever wanted and more.

“Tom,” you gasp, your breaths heavy and inconsistent. It feels indescribable—the final denouement of your time apart. Each drag of his cock through your heat has you reeling, your walls quivering and clenching and trying desperately to keep him in, keep him nudging your g-spot, stimulating your passage. You’re moaning louder than you’ve ever moaned before, the coil in your stomach building and building without warning or direction.

Behind you, Tom seems to be enjoying it just as much as you. His libido strong and healthy and his body pumped full of pre-match adrenaline that it doesn’t surprise you in the slightest that he’s being so hard and purposeful in his movements. His groans are like music to your ears, small grunts of affirmation that he too has missed the paradise that unfolds when you join together.

“So fucking tight, angel,” he rasps, again letting his hand fall over your ass. He soothes the skin with his palm, and then he repeats the action two more times. “Feel you clenching me every time I do that.” He pinches your hip with his other hand, and you find yourself biting your forearm, embarrassed by how loud you think you’d moan if you were able to. “You love it rough like this, don’t you, darling? Mm… I know you do.”

It’s a dizzying blur of skin on skin for a while, and you feel yourself teetering on the edge on multiple occasions. It’s as if your body is holding back though, waiting on Tom to near it too before you’re able to fully let go. Almost sensing this, he reaches down and shoves his fingers in your hair, roughly tugging you up until your back is pressed against his front. The angle pushes him deeper, and your eyes flood with tears as you find yourself unable to comprehend just how good it feels.

“Y’like that?” He rasps. Tom drags a hand down to your clit, able to access it better now that he’s holding you so much closer. His pace is slower, but he’s going forcefully, his head hitting your g-spot every time. “Fuck, darling, I’m gonna cum if you keep clenching like that.”

You whimper, your chest heaving.

“Yeah,” you moan. His name pours from your lips like a prayer, rising in desperation as you slip back down, hands grabbing at the slats of the bench as you hold on for dear life. “Fuck, fuck, ‘m gonna cum.”

“Come on,” Tom urges. “Do it. I want to feel you squeezing my cock so tight, like you always do. Always makes me lose it, doesn’t it, love? Shit, you’re so perfect. Go on. I’ve got you. Get my cock nice and wet, and I’ll fill you up. You’d like that, eh? Feeling me cumming inside this pretty pussy? Come on. You know what you have to do.”

It slams into you, pouring down over you in waves that submerge you entirely. You feel boneless but also rigid at the same time, your jaw slack as your vision blurs. Pleasure ripples out from your centre, dousing your aching cunt in relief that feels so sweet, only growing richer and more fulfilling when you hear Tom grunt and feel his cock pulse in you. You come together, bodies moving in sync, perfectly, despite the time apart, and it’s so good that it takes you out of it completely.

You’re so absorbed in your climax that you end up drifting, opening your eyes a few moments later only to find yourself lying on your back, staring up at the bright white lines of the locker room ceiling. Your eyes blur with tears, but just for a moment, because then Tom’s palm swims into vision, drifting above your head until he finds the right angle that blocks out the light.

“Hey, darling,” he coos. He brings one of your hands to his lips, kissing your knuckles softly. “Are you okay? Lost you for a second.”

A very lazy, content smile finds your lips.

“Yeah,” you say sluggishly. You ache all over, but it feels incredible. You’re buzzing with the kind of energy that only comes after a session like this—after you’ve let him dismantle you completely. “Are you okay?”

Tom nods, his wet hair flying everywhere. “Fantastic,” he confirms. He glances down your figure, then offers you a soft smile. “I’m going to take you home, run you a really, really nice bath, and then we’re going to cuddle.” He drops your hand and instead cups your face in his palm. You nuzzle into it. His eyes are so soft as he gazes at you tenderly. “You’re so lovely, Y/N. I love you.”

You smile softly. “Love you too.”

Tom leans over you and kisses your lips, very gently, before shifting his mouth all over the rest of your face. He goes from one cheek, over to your forehead, down your nose, to the other, before circling back to your mouth. By the time he reaches there, your smile has grown to a grin, and you feel grounded enough to reach up and loop your fingers into his hair.

“Thank you,” he says, speaking earnestly, “for always being here for me. For supporting me, and putting up with all my crazy ideas, and being incredible, always. You are my inspiration, and I love you more than anything.”

You feel your heart throb in your chest, and you have to focus really hard on stopping the swell of emotion from leaving through your tired eyes.

“Any time,” you say, nodding to emphasise your point. “I love you, and I’m here for you. Whatever you might need, I’ll do it.”

Tom’s warm brown eyes meet with yours, and the smile on his face shows no sign of leaving.

“All I need is you,” he says. His lips come down to yours, softly, just resting there. “All I’ll ever need is you.”

—

———

:)) I rlly like this tbh. I hope you do too !

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#the energy that i created in the studio when i wrote this...i can't even begin to describe it. insane. enjoy !!#tom holland smut #tom holland x reader #tom holland #tom holland x reader smut #:)#my writing #smut #boxer!tomfic #tom.filth #q

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cottonkendi · 3 years ago

Text

Your Babies | 32

MASTERLIST

Sano Shinichiro x f!Reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Crack, Angst

Warning: Spoiler warnings, Profanity

Synopsis: Arguments ft. Guitars

Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33

“Be safe, make sure to be home before dinner.” You mumble against Shinichiro’s skin as he drops you off at your house before heading over to the new shop that the two of you had officially bought the other week which is also currently getting filled in with Shinichiro’s equipment from the old shop.

The move started only three days ago which has been making Shinichiro busier than ever which in turn makes you the one responsible for the financial problems for now.

Just like what the two of you had planned, the old shop is now being put on sale - without the kids knowing - while you are now working as a teacher’s assistant in university to scarpe as much money as you can before you graduate in a few months where you’ll be shadowing and assisting Sara’s mother in her engineering company.

“I will. Go have fun with Wakasa, okay? You two haven’t been spending all that much time with each other. He’s been threatening me recently, y’know? Telling me to stop swamping you with work.” He chuckles under his breath as he eyes the door behind you, leading to the living room of your house where Wakasa is most likely waiting for you.

Rolling your eyes, a smile still makes its way to your face as you take a few steps back. “Oh yeah? Did he kick you on the stomach again? Punched you to the ground like last time?”

“Oh haha, let’s all laugh at how your boyfriend got beaten up by your cousin. So funny.” Shinichiro tries to say with a straight face but inevitably breaks into laughter when Wakasa coincidentally opens the door to let you in after hearing your voice from the inside.

“What the hell are you guys doing outside? I’ve been waiting inside for five minutes, just how long do you guys say goodbye to each other?” You can practically hear the irritation from your cousin as he crosses his arms in front of his chest, shoulder leaning on the door frame as he raises his eyebrows at the two of you.

Lightly pushing Shinichiro away, you whisper under your breath. “Guess it’s time for you to go now before Mr. White Leopard beats you up.”

You catch a glimpse of Shinichiro biting his lip, suppressing his laughter as he shallowly nods at the two of you before walking over to his bike, all the while, Wakasa continues to look like he’s ready to drop kick both of you judging from the frown on his face.

Once your boyfriend is out of view, you finally enter your house, going straight into your room while Wakasa follows.

“I still can’t believe the two of you bought that new building. Such a good place though, the traffic there is great, definitely gonna have more customers once you open up again.” Wakasa points out, taking his place on your bed like how he usually does as he watches you walk around your room, getting some documents and spare money in the different bags and purses that you haven;t used in awhile. “But also, you said something about needing money right? If you want, I can lend you two some money. Benkei and I have been getting a ton of new customers for some reason. Mostly females though. They’ve all paid for the 6 month subscription in the gym with coaching. It’s absurd.”

You pause from your searching to give your cousin a look. “Really now. You don’t know why there are a ton of new female clients in the gym? You sure about that? Are you absolutely sure that you do not know why your gym, owned by two muscular and fairly attractive men, are getting a surge of new female clients who willingly paid for a 6 month subscription in the gym?” By now, your cousin has already broken out in a fit of laughter, limbs splayed all over your bed as he tries to avoid the glare you’re directing at him.

“You just wanted to shove it in my face that you and Benkei are still sought after by girls even after highschool. You’re such an attention whore, it’s unbelievable.” You scoff lightheartedly, enjoying the chuckles leaving your cousin who merely shrugs at your words, a smirk on his face.

“It’s not my fault that I’m good looking and that my looks help with business. It’s just my business strategy.”

“Shut up. I don’t need to hear this. I’ve had enough of this conversation-”

“The conversation barely started.”

“And I’m already done with it. Now shh. I’m trying to find some money in my room.”

Going back to money searching, you hear your cousin let out a huff. “You’re such a brat. Like those little sisters who ruin their older brother’s chance in getting a girl.”

Sparing him a glance, you make sure that he sees you raise your eyebrows at him. “Speak for yourself. You’re the one who’s been threatening every potential lover who comes my way. If Shinichiro wasn’t so used to getting beaten up by the time we liked each other, I doubt he’d have lasted long with you threatening him with a dango stick every other night.”

“Hah! I was just making sure that the peop- wait… you knew? Since when?” Wakasa abruptly sits up from your bed, elbows propping him up as he stares at you with wide eyes, an unusual look on his bored face.

Rolling your eyes, you make your way to him only to flick his forehead. “I’ve known a year after Shin and I started dating, dumbass. You don’t think Manjiro actually kept your threats a secret, do you? He can barely contain his excitement when he told me about how cool you were beating up Shin that first time you threatened him.” You lightly punch his chest to make a point.

Slowly, he gets comfortable on the bed again. “If you’ve known for so long and haven’t actually confronted me about it, I guess that I’m off the hook right? You’ve already forgiven me which means that we can all forget about it ever happening.”

An exasperated sigh leaves your lips as you take a seat by your bed, beside your cousin, hands clutching the last of the money you’ve left in this room after completely abandoning it for a few months in a row just because you’ve taken up a permanent residency in the Sano household. “I only found 57,000 yen. This is not even enough to get through for a month.”

Turning towards you, Wakasa eyes the bills in your hand. “I told you, I can lend you money. I wasn’t just bragging earlier.”

You shake your head at him. “No, It will be too difficult if I borrow money from you. Shin and I already talked about it, we won’t be borrowing money for the shop since it will be too difficult in case things don’t go as plan.”

“But how are you guys going to find money for it then?”

“I’m taking up a part time job then I’ve already got a contractual job after I graduate in Sara’s family, you remember her, right?” Wakasa nods at you, now sat up and thinking hard on what to do to help. “Shin and I are also thinking of using the money that we;ve both been saving up for the future. ‘Cause remember how we both jokingly saved up money a few years ago for the wedding that we were planning? It got big through the years so I think that that will be good too. But other than that, just in case, I’m thinking of selling my guitar.”

Wakasa’s head snaps towards you, eyes blown out the moment you finish your sentence. “Your guitar?! You’re really going to sell that?”

Nodding your head, you let out a sigh as you take out your phone to show him some messages. “Yeah, I’ve been contacting some interested buyers, both here in Japan and some foreign ones. Since the guitar is in good condition and all of the parts were customized, it racked up quite a price. And besides, I haven;t really been using it all that much, just getting dusty in our room. It’s more like a display now anyways than an actual guitar so why not just sell it off to help with the payments.” You nonchalantly shrug.

“But you’ve spent years just saving up money for that. You worked so much before and you’re just going to sell it?”

“Wakasa, that’s in the past. I worked hard for it back then and now, it’s going to be sold off for a bigger and much needed money.”

After a second of silence, Wakasa lets out a sigh after making sure that you’re absolutely sure about what you’re about to do. “Are you sure that you won’t regret this?”

“I’m sure… and if I do, then I can just save up money in the future and buy another better guitar, right? Or maybe buy it back?”

“Who are you going to sell it to?”

“Remember Hikaru? Well, he has an uncle who collects guitars and he has the highest offered price for it so I’m thinking of meeting up with him this afternoon…”

“Is that why you asked me to hang out with you today? You gonna make me come with you?”

“... Maybe…”

Taking off your shoes, you greet grandpa who’s just about done with cooking the rice, Manjiro and Emma both running around the kitchen, putting the utensils on the dinner table. “You’re home late. Busy with school? You only have less than two months before you graduate, right?” Grandpa asks as he takes the takeout from you. “Shinichiro is still out but he called and said that he’ll be home soon.”

Nodding, greet the two kids. “Hm, I was just checking something out with Wakasa.”

“Hm, go clean up while I handle dinner. You two should clean up too, you’ve been running around all day.” Manjiro salutes before running over to the bathroom, Emma right behind him as he screams about showering first. All the while, you silently walk over to your bedroom, eyeing the empty wall where your guitar used to be displayed a few hours ago.

Taking your other guitar that you usually practice on, you gingerly hang it where your now sold guitar used to be, hoping that it will help with making the wall look less empty. “It doesn’t quite look right but it’ll do.” Letting out a sigh, you make your way to the bathroom, cleaning yourself up before dinner, unaware of the bedroom door opening.

Getting out of the bathroom, you’re startled when you see Shinichiro’s body on the bed, unmoving.

Putting on your clothes, you wait for him to start talking when you notice him glancing at you. “Today was so tiring.” He lets out a long sigh, lanky body stretching out on the soft mattress. “We moved the things for the break room and storage room then tomorrow, we’ll start moving things for the actual shop. They also delivered the new countertop, shelves and some new machines. I’m so excited but it’s so tiring.” Walking over to his side, you press a kiss on his forehead, your arms caging him down which puts a smirk on his lips.

“Is this your way of telling me that you’ll take care of me?” He murmurs, hands making their way to your hips. “If so, then please take care of me real good-”

“Get your mind out of the gutter, Shin.” Flicking his forehead, you push yourself off of the bed after giving him a kiss on the nose. “Get ready for dinner, the kids must be hungry. C’mon.”

You hear him groan from the bed as you walk out of the bedroom before he follows after, body slouched as he drags his feet to the dining room.

All throughout dinner, you’re forced into answering the kids’ questions about why the old shop is getting cleaner and cleaner with the usual machines disappearing from sight while you make sure that Shinichiro doesn’t just accidentally let the secret out. Thankfully, after cleaning up, both the kids and grandpa headed to their bedroom while you helped Shinichiro back into yours. “Can’t you at least move your feet so we can go to our room faster?”

“I can’t~ I’m too tired.”

“I swear, Shin. I’m going to leave you in this hallway and lock you out of our room.”

Pushing him onto the bed, you heave out a sigh as you stretch out your arms, a little numb from dragging him across the house. “You should clean up before going to sleep, Shin-”

“Wait… where’s your guitar? Did the kids take it again?” Shinichiro sits up from the bed, eyes trained at the wall where your guitar is hung. “Or are you adding another set of customized thingies again?”

Shaking your head, you carelessly wave your hand. “It’s nothing. I just sold it-”

“What?! You sold it? Why?” By now, it seems as if the fatigue in Shinichiro’s body has gone away the moment you told him just what happened to your guitar. His dark eyes so wide as he stares at you with shock. “Why?! Was something wrong with it? Did the kids break it or something?! Do you want me to tell them off-”

“What the-? No, the kids didn’t break it or anything, okay? Would you please calm down? You’re reacting as if I sold your bike.” You chuckle as you make him sit down again, hands going to his shoulders to lightly massage the tension out of it. “I sold it because we needed money, right? I knew someone who collects those customized acoustic guitars and he gave me a million yen for it.” The small smile on your face gets wiped off when you notice the furrow in Shinichiro’s brows, lips turned into a frown as he looks up at you.

“You sold your guitar? Why would you- you didn’t have to. I could’ve done something, y’know. You shouldn’t have sold it.” He barks out, an exasperated sigh leaving his lips as he shrugs your hands off of his shoulders. “It’s my shop, Y/N. I could’ve found a way to pay for the remaining money that we needed to pay for-”

“Your shop?” Raising your brow, you put your hands on your hips. “Shin, we both decided on buying that shop, it’s not just your shop. It’s ours. And why are you acting like you’re more affected by that guitar than me? It’s my guitar. I paid for it years ago and now, I decided to sell it. Why are you acting like it’s such a big deal?”

“Well then, why are you acting like it’s not a big deal? That guitar has years of memories in it, Y/N! It’s not just some guitar. I know that you hold that guitar dear to you. You played it when you were all alone. Played it when we first became official. The kids love it. You taught Izana how to sing using that guitar and now you’re just going to sell it like it’s nothing!” Shinichiro raises his voice at you, hands moving around, trying to find a way to calm himself down as he feels something tick inside his head.

By now, you can feel your patience running thin as Shinichiro continues to glare up at you, his hands clutching the fabric of his pants as he rubs the back of his head in frustration. Running your tongue over your cheek, you let out a huff. “I know what that guitar means to me, Shinichiro. I’m the one who bought it. But it’s just a damn guitar that I can easily replace if I wanted to. For fucks sake, I can buy it again in the future once we have enough money again but for now, I just thought that you’d appreciate it if I helped with the million yen that we’re still missing for our shop. I just thought that you’d be happy that we don’t have to worry about scraping up some money.” Turning away from him, you busy yourself with pacing around the room, unable to look at Shinichiro right now, not when you can feel the irritation in your body exploding.

“You didn’t have to do that for the shop. It’s my shop and I would’ve found a way to-”

“There you go again with you calling it ‘your’ shop.” Throwing your hands in the air, you stomp over to your boyfriend, glaring straight at him. “Shinichiro. It’s our shop. You may have first dreamt of it, first thought of wanting it. But now. It’s not just your dream, okay? It’s ours. It’s our dream and we’re both working for it and if you find it so hard to accept that I sold a damn guitar to help you, then fine. Use the money on something else and stop talking to me like I just threw our relationship out the door just because I sold a piece of wood with some fancy accessories on it.”

Shinichiro lets out a loud groan, hand aggressively rubbing his head in frustration. “You don’t fucking get it! It’s not just the guitar. I’m supposed to be the one providing for us both and you-”

“Are you fucking insane? Is that really why you’re upset? You can’t accept a little help?”

It seems as if both of your words have only sunk in now that the two of you are glaring at each other, teeth bared and ready to say things that will most likely hurt the both of you once you utter them into existence.

The air is tense, feeling heavy and hard to breathe as the two of you lay still in the room, unsure on how to approach each other after what seems to be an explosive argument that sprung up from thin air.

“I… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lose my temper-”

“I think we’re both tired, Shin.” You sigh out, shoulders dropping as you give him a glance before walking over to the dresser. “We should probably rest for tonight. Finish this in the morning. We’re not going to get anywhere if we keep talking while we’re both clearly drained.”

Stiffly nodding, Shinichiro watches with anticipation as you take out your phone and a jacket. “I’m going to Wakasa’s for tonight.”

“No wait, Y/N-” Shinichiro reaches out for you, trying to stop you from walking out.

“Shin, we can talk this out tomorrow, okay? Go get some sleep. You’re tired. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Gently removing his hand from your arm, you give him a smile. “I love you.” Pressing a kiss on the edge of his lips, you walk out of the bedroom and into the garden where you text Wakasa to give you a ride back to his place, not in the mood to be spending the night alone at your own house.

As for Shinichiro, he’s left standing by the door, eyes closed in desperation as he pinches his arms. “I messed up…”

It only feels like a few seconds has passed when he hears someone knock on the door, but alas, it seems as if the knocking is coming from the other door which leads inside the house instead of the one where you just walked out from. Trudging over to it, he slowly opens the door, revealing Emma and Manjiro, both of them looking up at him with wide and curious eyes. “Did… did the two of you have a fight?” He hears Emma mumble, her hands holding onto Manjiro’s.

“We heard the two of you talking loudly when we were sneaking into the kitchen for some snacks and decided to listen in but then it got quiet. We were scared something bad happened.” Manjiro says as he takes a look inside, immediately noticing your absence. “Where’s Y/N?”

Running a hand through his hair, Shinichiro gives the two kids a smile, trying to ease their worries. “Don’t worry, Y/N just… needed to go visit Wakasa for the night.”

Opening the door a little wider, he steps to the side. “You kids wanna sleepover? I don’t think I’ll be able to be alone tonight.” He tries to joke around though his chest still feels heavy. Thankfully though, the kids seem to have not noticed.

“Of course! Who would I be if I let my older brother get visited by nightmares and monsters at night!” Manjiro immediately runs over to the bed, jumping onto the mattress and bouncing a little which makes him giggle followed by Emma running over as well. The two kids leaving their older brother by the door. Though the sight does lessen the frown on his face.

taglist

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#sano shinichiro #sano shinichiro x reader #tokyo revengers #tokyorev #tokrev #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyorev x reader #tokrev x reader #sano shinichiro fluff #sano shinichiro imagines #sano shinichiro angst #tokyo revengers imagines #tokyo revengers fluff #tokyo revengers angst #sano manjiro #umaushi wakasa #sano emma

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the-boring-little-pub · 3 years ago

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Dani x Jamie Fic Recs

Fics are in alphabetical order by author and are not listed in a way that is intended to imply preference. This list will constantly be updated. Most recently added fics will also come at the top of the list.

Recently Added

(02/14/2022) put your love (to the test) / I’ve Got a Problem, Poppins / Five Alarm Fire / (let’s be) Alone Together / The Haunted

Adhallya

I've had the time of my life (and I owe it all to you) (M) – The Dirty Dancing AU.

Anonymous authors

she’s a rebel and she’ll never ever be any good (E) – She’d known Jamie for five years, and she hadn’t tried to seduce or corrupt her once; Not even so much as a wink or a smug grin in her direction. Not that it bothered her. No, she wasn’t the least bit bothered by the idea of not being good or desirable enough for Jamie Taylor.

awriterofthings

Love Light (M) – Dani decides she and Rebecca need flowers in their apartment but she ends up leaving The Leafling with flowers and a crush on the florist.

Love Light: A Series of One-Shots (M) – A series of one-shots based off Love Light. Won't be in any type of chronological order.

Room 224 (M) – Dani hasn't seen her ex-girlfriend in 8 years so when Jamie ends up a coma patient at the hospital she works at, Dani does all she can to take care of her, and if old feelings resurface-- she'll just have to deal with that when the time comes.

backtoblack101

You're Just a Prisoner (And You're Trying to Break Free) (M) – A single weekend, a few months after graduation, has Dani realising (with a lot of help from her friends) that maybe the life she'd spent the past four years building for herself wasn't the life she wanted at all.

You're My Sunday Candy (M) – Jamie was a morning person. Always had been, always would be. Dani was not a morning person. Never had been, never would be. Surprisingly this isn't a problem, because Jamie's favourite thing to do in the morning was wake Dani up.

blake0tyler

and everything is icy and blue (and you would be there too) (M) – There is no way on God’s green earth that Dani would ever voluntarily decide to dress up as a sexy Christmas elf if she wasn’t desperately in need of some cash. And maybe the fact that the girl running the flower shop across from the Christmas market can’t seem to look away.

bk_moonflower02

put your love (to the test) (M) – Set post-Bly, Jamie decides to get a degree. Said degree requires her to study. While studying for an upcoming exam, Dani offers to help. And to be fair, she did try to help.

carrot_garden

guard your shins (like guard your heart) (M) – Dani transfers to the team that Jamie plays for in a World Cup year and Jamie hates the whole situation.

cheryltonis

17 cherry tree lane (M) – Jamie and Dani have been friends since they were eleven years old and their bond has withstood the test of time. but now, just as they’re entering their thirties, Dani’s life has taken a turn for the worse, and their friendship will be tested in a way that neither of them ever expected.

that summer seemed to last forever (E) – The summer camp counselors AU.

ClomWrites

Angels and Coffee (E) – Jamie has a problem, in the shape of an angel who can't make tea to save her life (the Coffee Shop AU).

Drowning (E) – Their first time.

Full (E) – A Motel. Some rain. A second chance.

Hungry (E) – Dani wakes up hungry.

In Sickness and In Health (M) – Jamie does not like being sick.

Inevitable (M) – Sometimes the thing you need the most is standing right next to you. Sometimes it's inevitable. High School AU.

The Sundress (E) – It's a good dress. It's driving Jamie bonkers.

colour_outside_the_lines

Can’t Buy Me Love (E) – The lesbian Pretty Woman AU.

Life in the City (M) – Jamie is a player who never thought she'd want a serious relationship again, until suddenly she does.

Memories of Us (E) – Jamie Taylor had been through a lot of rough things in her life, and at thirty, when it felt like the universe had stopped using her as its personal punching bag, that worst happened. She received a call informing her that her fiancée had been involved in an accident (The Vow AU).

Secret Love Song (M) – When Dani signs up for the foreign exchange program along with her long-term boyfriend Eddie, there had been many things she had never expected that she would be forced to have a long-distance relationship or that she would fall in love with the daughter of the host family she was staying with. (Modern day/College AU).

Stuck With You (E) – Jamie doesn't like her new roommate Dani, she's too perfect, a bit too pretty, and Jamie is far too attracted to her. For months Jamie had been able to put space between them avoiding Dani at all cost, but when a global pandemic hits and Jamie had nowhere left to run she has to face her feelings head-on. (Lockdown roommates AU).

creaturefromspace

mistakes like this (T) – Jamie, Dani, and a game of Spin the Bottle.

strawberry swing (E) – It's Dani's first time living in a single room and Jamie's her RA. After a noise complaint causes a brief interaction between the two, Dani can't get Jamie out of her head.

the sweetest taboo (E) – When Dani receives a letter in the mail from her mom telling her she’ll be coming to visit Bly Manor - along with Dani’s ex-fiancé and his mother - she realizes the only way to get them to all move on is to convince them that she already has. With Jamie pretending to be her girlfriend (and quite convincingly, she might add), what could possibly go wrong?

to wish impossible things (T) – After landing herself in detention for the first time, Dani has a conversation with Jamie that changes her life.

dark_moonflower

Five Alarm Fire (E) – Dani Clayton is a 911 Operator. Jamie Taylor is a Firefighter.

(let’s be) Alone Together (E) – Set near the start of the pandemic, Jamie meets Dani whilst walking her dog. They find that not even the current state of the world can keep them apart. Some people are just meant to be together.

The Haunted (E) – Jamie is a member of The Haunted Motorcycle Club, who returns home after a tragedy only to uncover a string of secrets, lies and betrayal. Not to mention Dani Clayton.

FanAddicted2000

Hell is other people, but not you (T) – Jamie and Dani are going with their life, not really noticing they aren't living it to the fullest until their path crossed. Jamie is raising her baby brother by herself while balancing school and her job; Dani is stuck in expectations that keep her from being her true self.

gooverly

You committed, I'm your crime (push my button, anytime) (E) – Public defender Dani Clayton gets assigned a new case: Jamie Taylor.

letusbebrave

was a willow (and it bent right to your wind) (M) – Everything comes back to life at Bly when the new au pair arrives. Spring arises to meet her, her garden growing mad for that first week. Saturday is when Dani is properly brought into her life. Singlemom!AU.

littlesolo

Caught Between Duty and Desire (M) – The bodyguard AU staring MI6 Agent Jamie Taylor and the future Queen of England, Danielle Clayton (written by littlesolo and thewildtype).

Finally Seen (M) – Dani is Mikey Taylor's teacher and that's how she meets Jamie. She and Jamie grow closer when Dani's old life follows her to Bly. Can they weather the aftermath?

lorelaislatte

shower your affection (let it rain on me) (M) – Seven Minutes in Heaven/High School AU.

the undone and the divine (E) – Hospital AU. Dr. Taylor and Dr. Clayton.

LostGeekMonkeyGirl

do you want some company? (E) – The trucker/friends with benefits au.

n0t_my_name

Bloom Town (E) – It's the summer of 1852 and Dani O'Mara is traveling west to join her husband Edmund in the goldmine town he left her behind in Iowa to establish two years prior. The long journey, she's expecting. The desert heat, she's expecting. The nervous anticipation at the idea of a fresh start out west, she's expecting. She’s decidedly not, however, expecting a gang of outlaws to kidnap her from the train by order of their notorious leader, JT London.

Fair Trade (M) – One life for another.

Incredible Seabirds of the Kerguelen Islands (M) – The perfect storm.

The Land of The Living (M) – Every end a new beginning.

The Longest Night (M) – Sometimes you just want company.

novel_concept26

(above) a boring little pub (M) – In which that dreadfully boring little pub date actually takes place.

at the end of fairytales (where do we go) (M) – For Jamie Taylor, music and magic have always been a mixed bag. For Dani Clayton, they’ve always been just out of reach. Together, touring with rock music’s hottest new band, they’ll navigate love, possession, and an ancient hunger too stubborn to go quietly.

been so good at wasting time (thank god for july) (M) – An unhappily-married Dani living in the suburbs hires a lawn care service run by a woman who strikes her speechless.

blink (M) – Dani and Jamie make it to Flora's wedding.

Control Series Part 1: having so much fun all alone (i wanna let somebody know) (E) – There are things Dani needs, some days, to remind herself who is in the driver's seat of her life. Jamie is more than happy to help, even on the tail end of a pounding headache.

Part 2: she tells me worship (in the bedroom) (E)

Part 3: (how lovely i feel) not to have to pretend (E)

Part 4: (your gift to me is just to be) bracing for the winds i always summon (E)

(could be dreadfully) boring (T) – Boring gets a bad rap, really. Boring can be the best thing in the world.

eligible (G) – With Bly's newest bakery about to open, Dani finds herself roped into a fundraising auction in which she is the prize.

heading into the dark (and we’ve got to hang on to each other) (M) – In which Dani finds little lights to lead her through the dark.

(late night) bargains (G) – In which Jamie wakes before Dani that night.

learning a lot (about being alive) (M) – So much of the story is the same. Dani. The kids. The lake. So much of the story is exactly the same--only, this time, there is no gardener working at Bly Manor.

(my love can be) the killing kind (M) – Peter Quint is the easiest mark in the world, a job without complication. All Jamie has to do is pull the trigger. If only the woman from O'Mara would stop getting in her way.

no fear (don't you turn like orpheus, just stay here) (T) – After the lake, Jamie strives to offer Dani some measure of comfort.

on the hunt (for who i've not yet become) (M) – Au in which Jamie is taken in by the O'Mara family, and Dani grows up wedged between two best friends with dark hair, learning slowly how to fall in love.

postcards (T) – In which Dani Clayton simply can’t sit still.

reciprocation (E) – Five times Dani fell asleep without reciprocating, and one time Jamie did.

something to hang on to (T) – When Jamie buys a camera, she isn’t really thinking about it. It isn't a plan. Isn't for any particular reason.

souvenirs you never lose (M) – Five scars Dani found on Jamie’s body (and one she left behind on her heart).

the beast you've made of me (M) – Dani Clayton has spent half an ageless century carrying the splintered soul of an ancient vampire. Half an ageless century waking, walking, drinking, forgotten by every mortal she meets--until a pub chosen by chance, and a woman who insists on remembering.

the shape of it (T) – They expect the Lady to come, one day. They expect the Lady to take Dani, in the end. They did not expect it to go like this.

there's an art (to life's distractions) (M) – Jamie's only looking to get a particularly detailed tattoo; she doesn't actually mean to fall for the artist.

unexpected (E) – Five things Dani realizes she likes in bed (and one thing Jamie realizes she likes about being with Dani).

universal cue cards (T) – An alternate telling in which the seamstress responsible for Dani's wedding dress is Jamie.

walking with the lady (M) – In which Viola wakes and has an abundance of opinions to share, whether Dani wants them or not.

with one eye open (all i see is you) (E) – In the aftermath of breaking her engagement, Dani Clayton decides if one's going to do a thing, it might as well be done right.

Wedding bells series - Part 1: the key to any problem (M) – Dani Clayton is not looking forward to attending her mother's wedding--especially given the girlfriend she has brought along for the trip is not actually dating her at all.

Part 2: an ocean away (E) – Jamie is off to London for a weekend celebrating Owen's upcoming wedding; Dani, back home, finds certain methods to combat the loneliness of staying behind.

who am i (that i should get to hold you) (T) – You find your soulmate, they say, in your dreams. Dani Clayton has been dreaming of curly dark hair, of strong hands, of a crooked smile all her life. If she tilts her head--if she squints just a little--she thinks she can make it fit.

(you may be) my final match (E) – When Dani Clayton proposes a friends-with-benefits scenario with the local florist, she is only looking to surprise herself, learn how to sleep with women, and have a little fun. She is decidedly not trying to fall in love.

obsetress

and she taught me a lesson alright (E) – As long as it's mattered to Jamie, it's always been her and Flora. always, that is, until Dani Clayton, Flora's year four teacher.

Part 2 - suddenly i took the chance (E) – A collection of oneshots.

kiss me deadly (E) – In the midst of threats from a former employee, Henry Wingrave relocates his niece and nephew, and their au pair, Dani Clayton, from London to his family's country home in Bly. the only problem? Jamie Taylor, the private security specialist Henry's contracted to stay with them while they're there.

Raginage

Friends....with benefits? (E) – Jamie finds herself flirting with the pizza delivery girl, Dani. Jamie finds out that Dani moved to England with a broken heart and while she's not looking to get caught up in anything serious, she is looking for someone she can have fun with, no strings attached. Turns out, Jamie and Dani feel the exact same way, until one of them doesn't.

My Favourite Faded Fantasy (E) – Jamie and Dani have been happily married for six years. However, unexpected complications prove to be too much to handle and divorce seems like it's the only logical thing to do. But seeing as Jamie's mom's wedding is right around the corner, Jamie and Dani agree to pretend they're still happy and in love for the ten days they're scheduled to visit with her.

Private Dancer (E) – Jamie becomes lovestruck with the new dancer at the strip club she lives above.

The Lost Temple of Aten (E) – The Mummy AU. Eddie is visiting Dani in Egypt. He steals a treasure map off that leads to the Amulet of Protection, which is believed to be buried in the Temple of Aten. After speaking with some of the locals, they find out that a treasure hunter named Jamie Taylor might know about the map. They end up tracking her down in an attempt to hire her to help guide them to the temple.

Youniverse Part 1 – I was made for loving you (E) – Based off the TV show "You”. After being turned down by her best friend Jamie, Dani meets a beautiful girl. Their relationship quickly blossoms and it becomes obvious to Dani that Viola is the perfect escape to get over her feelings for Jamie. Jamie slowly regrets pushing Dani away as she discovers that Viola seems too good to be true. Something just isn't quite right with her.

Part 2 – The times Dani was a total bottom (E) – A collection of one shots.

randomcactaceae

Between chlorine and troubled waters (T) – As the new swimming training seasons starts, a new member joins the team. Danielle Clayton, an art student who was a swimming superstar back in her high school in America. And Jamie can't stand her. She's just too perfect.

Shananigans402

Obstacles (E) – Dani suffers an existential crisis that has her fleeing everything she has ever known in search of freedom and maybe even love. Dani never expected that she'd wind up teaching at a secondary school in England. She also never expected to have her life turned on its head after a chance meeting with a mysterious and confident young woman who, unfortunately, just so happens to be a student at her school.

Part 2 - To All of You (M) – Obstacles follow-up oneshot collection.

sigmalied

Afterglow (M) – Thirteen years of a loving relationship, built, explored, and cherished.

Part 2 - The Evergreen Letters (M) – Afterglow Universe: how Jamie realises she’s in love.

Inflorescence (E) – Dani stares into the calla lilies, admiring the contrast of ivory spathes suddenly blushing deep violet around the spadices delicately protruding from their cores. They’re a bashful sight; shy, secret, and vulnerable. Yet completely hopeful - even from the protective embrace of their gentle petal sheaths - for a chance to proliferate. Affection and yearning coil like a mass of vines through Dani’s chest as she thinks, in awe, about how incapable they are of hurting anyone.

Skairipa_100

I’ve Got a Problem, Poppins. (M) – Jamie Taylor is a MI5 agent who never lets anyone get too close. Love is weakness, she believes. When her team is assigned as the protective detail for Wingrave and his family, Agent Taylor realizes she has a problem: she’s falling for Dani Clayton, the American au pair she has been assigned to protect. When the mission goes terribly wrong, Jamie finds herself trapped with Dani in a foreign country and separated from her team.

StoryMachine

Can you help me look after Mikey? (T) – Jamie needs to go on a grocery run and asks Dani to help her look after Mikey. She may have teased her a bit, may have flirted with her a bit. It's not like Dani doesn't flirt back though, so it's all harmless, right?

The Archery Contest (M) – Dani's father is forcing her to choose a husband. So she gets Jamie to dress up as a man and enter an archery tournament her father hosts to win her hand in marriage. Then, the two friends can live out the rest of their days without ever having to marry, only with Jamie having to throw on trousers every once in a while for an appearance.

takemebacktothenightwemet

36 steps to heaven (M) – There's a theory that you can fall in love with someone in 36 questions. Dani's psychology teacher puts the study to the test, by pairing her with none other than Jamie Taylor. The girl she hasn't been friends with for years.

Just another high school romance (M) – The abandoned school bathroom had been left to rot over summer. Jamie found herself hiding there from AP English that she certainly wasn’t in the mood for, when the bathroom door swung open. Dani’s perfect boyfriend and perfect planned out life isn't what she wants anymore, and she needs someone to help her realise exactly what she wants. Enter Jamie Taylor.

therestisjustconfetti

For the Love of Football (E) – When Dani finds out that one of the top football clubs in England wants her to come and play for them in the upcoming season, she jumps at the chance to cross the pond and play abroad. She's quickly thrust into a whole new world of the game and discovers that the captain of her club's top London rival might just be the biggest distraction she's ever come up against as a player.

We've Got a Problem (E) – A love like theirs is as rare as a moonflower. And they're grateful that the flower shop has a private back room. Flower shop scene.

thewildtype

Give It A Go (E) – The College AU staring soccer star Jamie and Dani "I still haven't declared a major" Clayton.

Imagine Me & You (& Our Friend Owen) (G) – Jamie has a less than positive outlook on marriage, but when Owen convinces her to attend an engagement party as his plus one, she meets a charming stranger that just might change her mind. (For the_boring_little_pub.)

Yes, Miss Clayton (E) – There's something about Dani's teacher voice that riles Jamie up.

totheflame

the sweetest little sting (M) – Jamie works at a dive bar in New York, Dani wanders in one night on accident, a slow burn ensues.

#dani x jamie #damie #the haunting of bly manor #dani clayton #jamie taylor #ficrec #fanfic #damie fic

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chaeryybomb · 3 years ago

Text

TRAITOR

pairings: female reader x lee heeseung

summary: you thought lee heeseung was the best boyfriend you could ever wished for. but they did warn you about long distanced relationships. at first, you convinced yourself that it was just your insecurities taking over. but your gut feeling has never been wrong

genre: college au, lovers to exes, fluff, angst, sad ending

featuring: kang hyewon, shin ryujin, lee chaeryeong, lee daehwii, yang jeongin & zhong chenle

word count: 10.4k

warnings: breaking up, mentions of insecurity and cheating, arguments, strong language

the sour series masterlist

Setting down the final box on the ground, you released a sigh of relief and stretched your arms upwards. The satisfying sounds of your joints popping gave you a sense of relief as you stretched. Then you felt a pair of arms snake around your waist. You smiled as you took in his familiar scent. You reached up to touch his neck as Heeseung pressed a kiss to the side of your head.

"Thank you for your help, lovely," he mumbled in your hair.

You turned around in his arms and clasped your hands behind his neck, toying with the back of his hair. Lee Heeseung was looking at you with pure love in his eyes and you couldn't be more happy. "I can't believe we're both finally in university," he said, squeezing your waist.

"Hmm yeah, finally out of high school," you hummed. "It's sad that we didn't get into the same university though," you cupped his left cheek, rubbing his cheek lovingly with your thumb.

Heeseung nuzzled into your hand, slowly drawing you closer. "I can always drive to your dorm, it's just a three hour drive from here."

"Or I can drive to you," you replied.

He scoffed, "Yeah if you get your driver's license," he teased.

You rolled your eyes and softly punched him on the chest before pushing yourself away from his embrace. "Listen, not all of us can miraculously pass on their first try okay," you defended yourself but Heeseung just laughed at you.

Although you tried to act like you were mad at his joke, you couldn't wipe the smile off your face as you sat down on his bed. Currently, the two of you were in Heeseung's dorm. You wanted to help him move in before you had to leave. Heeseung and you were high school sweethearts, the school's loveliest couple. And you've been together ever since then. Today marked a new milestone for the both of you as you had finally graduated from high school and now both of you were accepted into different universities.

The both of you had decided to do what's best for each other and went to different schools. It was for the sake of your future, you didn't want to cause a commotion just because you guys were three hours apart. Plus, it was just three hours. Heeseung could always come visit you and video calls were a thing. You're friends were scared that the both of you wouldn't survive a long distance relationship but you had faith in each other. And that was enough.

Heeseung was lucky to have a room all for himself, whereas you had to share a dorm with two other girls. His room was small but big enough for one person. You knew Heeseung was a simple man, if it had a bed and a table, that would be enough for him. A knock on the door caught your attention, you suddenly remembered that you guys had left the door open when you were moving boxes.

Outside the door stood a pretty girl with long blonde hair. She was really pretty, you noted. She looked so natural as a blonde as well, you couldn't help but thought. The pretty girl sent both of you an awkward smile and waved. You stood up and walked to her, somewhat excited to make a new friend.

"Hi!" You greeted her with a smile, you felt Heeseung behind you.

"Hi," she mirrored your smile. "I'm Hyewon, I'm from the room next door," she pointed out.

"Oh! I'm Heeseung," the taller boy introduced himself. "And this is my girlfriend, Y/N," he smiled at you.

"It's nice to meet you, are you both music majors too?" Hyewon asked. It was common for Hyewon to ask that, considering the university Heeseung applied for is known for their music stream. Heeseung was extremely talented, being blessed with a heavenly voice and all. It was his dream to pursue a music career. Thanks to you, he found the courage to do so,

"Oh no, just him. I don't actually go here," you immediately told her. "I actually go to George University instead."

"Oh! So you're a theatre major then," Hyewon said, surprising you a bit. You nodded in return and Hyewon's smile seemed to grow wider. The university you applied to was quite well known for its theatre arts course. "That's so cool, I'm a theatre major too!"

Your eyes lit up in excitement and you stepped closer to the blonde, eager to learn more about her. But before you could ask her anything, your phone chimed. You gave her an apologetic look before checking your phone. "It's my mom, she's asking when I'll be home. I still have to pack up," you said disappointed. You really wanted to talk more with Hyewon so the both of you could geek out. (And spend a bit more time with Heeseung.) Hyewon looked disappointed too that you couldn't stay longer.

"Let me drive you home," Heeseung started to move to get his keys but you placed your hand on his arm to stop him.

"Nah, it's fine," you shook your head. "I can take the bus home."

"Then I'll walk you to the bus stop," Heeseung said with determination. He was gonna make use of whatever time he had to spend it with you, even if it was for five seconds.

You realised that there was no way of rejecting him, so you just chuckled and said, "Alright, let me grab my bag then." But Heeseung was already one step ahead of you as he had already gone to get it for you. You sent another smile to Hyewon. "It was really great to meet you, Hyewon. I hope we can talk again soon," you told her.

"Likewise Y/N, have a safe trip home," she bid you goodbye before returning to her room.

Heeseung appeared behind you once again, sneakily slipped his fingers through yours and pulled you out of the room. He locked the door with your bag on his shoulder, he looked like he had the intention of not letting you hold it.

"C'mon," he tugged your hand and you giggled, falling into step with him.

The walk to the bus stop felt quicker than it should be, much to your dismay. The bus stop was empty besides the both of you. As the two of you stood under it, you mindlessly swung your intertwined hands back and forth. Heeseung laughed at your action. He released your hand and you looked up curious on why he did it. Heeseung moved so he was standing behind you and wrapped his arms around you, effectively back hugging you.

Your lips tugged upward at the position you were and you held onto his arms. Slowly, he started to rock you back and forth. "I'm gonna miss you," he suddenly said.

You couldn't help but let your smile falter. You were gonna miss him too, you're gonna miss him so much. "This is the first time where we'll be so far apart, I think I might die without you," he rubbed his face into your hair as you laughed at his words.

"I'll call you everyday, Hee. I promised," you assured him with a pat on his arm. The taller boy only hummed in reply but you felt him move his arms to your middle so he could bury his face in the crook of your neck. You giggled when you felt him peppered small kisses up around your neck.

"I love you," he mumbled before pressing a loving kiss to the top of your head.

"Love you too," you leaned back into him.

Just in time you saw the bus in the distance, which meant your time with Heeseung was ending. As the bus slowed down in front of you, your boyfriend finally reluctantly let you go from his slip. "I'll see you soon, okay?" you promised him. He nodded and leaned down to give you one more kiss before you entered the bus.

Sitting down, you waved from the window and he gave you a smile. Oh god, you already missed him. Heeseung watched as your bus left the station. You sighed, leaning back into the seat. This was the beginning of a new chapter of your relationship, and you have faith that the both of you will be okay.

"Thank you," you said to the barista as she handed you your coffee. With your free hand, you pushed the front door open. The November breeze welcomed you once you stepped outside, your coffee warming your fingertips. Your phone then started to ring in your pocket. You fished your phone out and a smile crept onto your face when you saw the contact name.

"Hello, love," Heeseung greeted as soon as you picked up. You smiled at him, holding your phone in front of your face.

"Good morning, Hee. I just got my coffee," you showed him your coffee like it was a little trinket. Heeseung laughed at your child-like action. The second semester was almost ending and your relationship was still going strong. The both of you were consistent with the video calls and text messages. You'd be calling him at the end of every day and the two of you would talk about your day till one of you fell asleep. (Spoiler: It was usually you.)

And now your second semester as a couple is ending, the both of you had decided to retreat back to your hometown during the break like you did during your first break. So you could bask in each other's presence and visit some old friends. It was slowly starting to become a tradition and you couldn't ask for anything more.

"So, how was your audition?" Heeseung asked as you walked past a group of band kids, sending them a smile as they waved at you.

At the mention of the audition, your smile turned into a pout. "Rejected, as usual," you sighed. You have auditioned for almost every play in your school but you were always rejected or chosen as a background character if you were lucky. You knew that there were a lot of talented students in your school, but you felt dejected each time.

"Sorry, love. I'm sure you'll have better luck next time," Heeseung told you with a sad smile. "I wish I could hold you right now."

You looked at him with a sad gaze, "Me too, Hee." You couldn't lie that long distance relationships were hard, everyday was spent through a screen and you yearned to be next with him physically. During the first few weeks, you told yourself that you would get used to it after a while. Spoiler alert, you still haven't gotten used to it. "But enough of that!" You said, waving away the depressed aura and taking a long sip from your coffee before letting out a sigh. "Our break is coming up and I can't wait to see you."

At the mention of the break, you noticed how Heeseung visibly flinched. His eyes suddenly weren't looking at you anymore, averting his gaze to the side instead. "We are going to be seeing each other, right?" You inquired. But you were met with silence, you stopped in your tracks when Heeseung didn't say anything. "Hee?"

"Actually, Y/N," he started to say and you felt your heart sink already. He didn't call you "love". Some may say you were being dramatic, but Heeseung only used your name whenever something was serious. You're not going to be able to see him during break, your mind told you. You knew it was the most possible outcome, but you hoped that you were wrong.

"I'm not going back during break."

And there it was, what possibly could have been the worse news for you. "Oh," was all you could say, your fingers tightened slightly around the plastic cup before you plastered on a fake smile. "Well, there's always next semester," you assured him, but it felt more like you were reassuring yourself. This was going to be your first winter break without Heeseung.

Heeseung smiled at your reply, a twinge of sadness in him but he brushed it off. "The reason is cause a senior from the film department asked me for help," he explained. "You see, there's a music video competition and he asked me if I could write a song for it."

Your eyes lit up in excitement. "No way! So they're gonna shoot a music video for your song?"

Heeseung nodded with a big smile. "Yup! It's such a big project, like they're bringing in some of the theatre kids as the actors and we're gonna start filming, like next month."

"I'm so happy for you, love," you told him truthfully. Internally, you were scolding yourself for feeling sad that he wouldn't be free during the break when he has something big going on in his life. Stop being so selfish, your mind scolded. Of course you felt a bit blue but this was a big opportunity for Heeseung, imagine if they won the competition. He would finally get some recognition for his music. And the fact that the senior chose him to write the song meant that people were already starting to appreciate his songs and his voice. You were being selfish, like a child.

As Heeseung continued to tell you about the project, you resumed your walk back to your dorms. You listened to him intensively, capturing every small detail in your heart. It was rare for you to see him speak so passionate. Music was his passion, his safe place. You knew that and you wanted him to live a life where he could make his dream a reality. A singer on the bright stage with thousands, no, millions of fans to appreciate his vocals.

You managed to reach your dorm just as Heeseung was being called for off screen. A feminine voice was calling from him and you easily recognised it. "Is that Hyewon?" You asked.

A few seconds passed and a familiar looking pretty blonde came into view. "Y/N? Y/N, hi!" The blonde waved at you enthusiastically, Heeseung was slowly being pushed out of the frame. You could tell he was scooting over to make space for Hyewon. An uneasy feeling slowly sprouted in you when you saw how Hyewon and Heeseung were sitting too close, but you shoved it down when the blonde girl grinned at you.

"Y/N!"

"Hyewon!" You responded with the same enthusiasm, which made the two of you burst into a fit of giggles.

"I'm so sorry for disturbing your time but Chan is looking for you," she apologised, the last part directed to your boyfriend.

"Ah, it's okay, I understand," you said.

"I'll talk to you later, okay? Love you," Heeseung said once Hyewon was out of frame.

"Love you too," you replied and your phone screen turned black, your reflection staring right back at you. You were frowning. With a sigh, you stuffed your phone back into your phone pocket to unlock your front door. Your coffee was now cold in your hands and the uneasy feeling from before was slowly creeping back in. You did not like it one bit.

Chaeryeong and Ryujin thought you were being dramatic, they were right in a way. But you were too busy missing Heeseung to be bothered. You missed his warmth, his voice, the way his hands perfectly fit yours when he held them. you missed the way you laid your head on his chest when he sat behind you, you could always hear his steady heartbeat. It always lulled you to sleep in seconds.

You let out a long and loud sigh as you flipped onto your back on your childhood bed. You had returned to your hometown one week ago, which also meant another week without Heeseung. Your best friend and roommate, Chaeryeong, was the one who drove you both home. The last time you saw her was when she dropped you off at your parents home. And you've been dwelling in your Heeseung-less days ever since.

Reaching over to retrieve your phone, you moved to open your chat with Heeseung. The last text message from him was from this morning. It was just a simple "good morning" text, and you replied with the same message except you added a heart emoticon at the end. And the message was on delivered. Not even on read. You don't know which one was worse.

Your phone suddenly dinged and you immediately sat up straight, thinking it was Heeseung. But your shoulders sagged in disappointment when you saw it was just a message from Jeongin. If Ryujin had seen you right now, the short hair girl would have called you a "lovesick fool". She was right, of course but still.

[2:42 pm] jeongin: guess what

[2:44 pm] chenle: what

[2:44 pm] jeongin: guess

[2:45 pm] chenle: no

[2:45 pm] chenle: just tell us

[2:46 pm] jeongin: g u e s s

[2:46 pm] chenle: n o

[2:46 pm] jeongin: guess goddammit

[2:48 pm] ryujin: jeongin i stg

[2:48 pm] ryujin: i will break ur kneecaps just tell us

[2:49 pm] jeongin: ugh fine theres a amusement park and i wanna go

[2:50 pm] chenle: its winter

[2:50 pm] jeongin: yeah and

[2:50 pm] jeongin: is there snow? no

[2:51 pm] jeongin: so therefore, amusement park

[2:51 pm] ryujin: i-

[2:52 pm] chaeryeong: where is it

[2:52 pm] jeongin: its like a 2 hours away from here

[2:54 pm] ryujin: and who tf would be driving us genius

[2:55 pm] jeongin: y/n bc she loves us

[2:56 pm] y/n: since when

[2:56 pm] chaeryeong: and shes alive, great job jeongin

[2:57 pm] chaeryeong: u pulled her out from her depression

i[2:58 pm] y/n: hey im not depressed >:(

[2:59 pm] ryujin: hm sure

[2:59 pm] y/n: >:(

[3:00 pm] y/n: also i dont have my drivers license yet dumbass

[3:01 pm] jeongin: ah right i also forgot y/n cant drive

[3:01 pm] jeongin: ryujin it is

[3:02 pm] ryujin: whAT I DID NOT AGREE TO THIS

[3:03 pm] chaeryeong: lets meet up at jeongin's place then

[3:03 pm] chenle: cool with me

[3:05 pm] ryujin: HEY DONT IGNORE ME

[3:04 pm] y/n: sure!

You stifled a laugh as you read Ryujin's message. Then, you switched to check your chat between Heeseung and you. It was still on delivered. Maybe he's just busy with filming and recording. Yeah, he's probably busy. Stop being so selfish, Y/N.

Yang Jeongin just had to choose the coldest day of the year to go to the amusement park, didn't he. You silently thanked yourself for dressing up in an extra layer, unlike Chenle who looked like he was about to die from frostbite. Whereas Jeongin had a huge grin plastered on his face as he looked at the Ferris Wheel ahead. You rubbed your hands together, bringing it to your mouth to blow hot air at it. You heard the car door slam shut behind you and Ryujin walked next to you.

Families lined up at the ticket booth, laughter and chatter filled the atmosphere. You spot some couples around the area as well, the sight of them tugged at your heartstrings. You wished Heeseung was here with you, he would've wanted to go on the Ferris Wheel with you.

Chaeryeong linked arms with you and Ryujin, leading the two of you to the entrance. The boys already beat you guys to it, you realised. Once Chenle handed you your ticket, you were immediately dragged to the first ride that caught Jeongin's eye.

After a couple of hours, you found yourself resting on the bench with a cup of hot chocolate at your side. Your social battery was empty and you didn't know where the rest of your friends had gone. Ryujin may have mentioned going to the restroom, you're not sure, you were too tired to keep up. So here you were, on the bench next to the Teacups Ride.

You watched as the visitors walked past you. Some were students with their friends laughing as if it was their last day on earth, children giggling as their parents lifted them up in the air and couples sharing a loving look. You fiddle with your phone, debating whether you wanted to text Heeseung or not.

The both of you had called each other last night. You couldn't see him but his voice sounded tired. You felt bad for calling him. Maybe it was for the best if you didn't. You picked up your hot chocolate, the warmth spreading through your fingers as you blew on it. Your body relaxed once you took a sip, enjoying as the warmth spread through your body. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed a very familiar looking coat.

You saw a couple walking together, he was wearing a coat that looked identical to the one you gifted Heeseung last year during Christmas. It was almost as if that was Heeseung, well his back kinda looked like his and Heeseung was about that height as well. But it couldn't be him, his school was almost three hours away from here. Plus the girl beside him was blonde, she kinda looked like Hyewon.

What are the odds of those two being here, you laughed. But when those two stopped in their tracks to look at the Ferris Wheel, your entire body froze right there and then. That was Heeseung and Hyewon together. What were they doing here?

Your body reacted immediately by standing up. Heart beating rapidly, you were about to walk towards them when you saw Heeseung laughing at something the blonde said. A gnawing feeling grew in you, he was laughing with her. He was at the amusement park with her. Not you. Her.

And he never mentioned anything about going to the amusement park, let alone the same one you were going to. Your feet stayed glued to the ground as you watched them get into one of the carts. Why was he here? Why didn't he tell you? Why was he with her? Why? Why? Why?

You saw Hyewon stopped from getting into the cart and she stretched her hand out while she looked up in the sky, Heeseung following her. It was snowing. It was the first snow. And Heeseung spent it with Hyewon, while you watched from the sidelines. They looked like an actual couple. Snow started to fall, your hot chocolate was losing its warmth and jealousy filled up instead. The noise drilled out of your ear so all you heard was a low buzz, your gaze burning on the two. You didn't notice Ryujin walking towards you.

"Jesus, the line was so long that I-" Ryujin stopped mid sentence, her eyes following the direction of your gaze. "Y/N?"

You walked past her without saying anything, chucking the drink into a trashcan.

Your phone felt heavy in your hands as you paced around your room. You knew your eyes weren't wrong. It was Heeseung and Hyewon at the amusement park, you could tell it was him from a mile away. After that incident, you went to find your friends and told them you wanted to go home because you weren't feeling well. It was partially a lie anyway, you didn't feel comfortable. You don't know what you would do if you had stumbled upon them.

Thousands of questions echoed through your mind. And you couldn't bear to ask Heeseung. You knew you had questions but you didn't know what to ask. Why didn't you tell me? Why were you with Hyewon? Why wouldn't you tell me?

Your phone suddenly rang, causing you to jolt in surprise. The phone screen lit up with his name in bold. He was calling you. Without thinking, you accepted the call.

"Hey, love," Heeseung's smooth voice greeted you.

"Hey," you replied, making sure your tone was steady. You were silently grateful that it wasn't a video-call so he couldn't see the nervousness in your eyes.

"How was the amusement park?" He asked.

You bit your thumb, hesitant to answer. Should you tell him that you saw him today? "It was fun, a lot of people thought," you hummed, moving over to sit on your bed.

"You know, funny story. Today we actually went to an amusement park too," he suddenly said and you froze on the spot. "They decided to film there so we went there in the afternoon, it started snowing too!"

You felt a weight was lifted from your heart. So it was just a pure coincidence. Heeseung never planned to go to the amusement park, he just went with what they said. "It would've been funny if we bumped into each other, don't you think, love?" He laughed but you couldn't find the energy to laugh along.

"Yeah," you mumbled, leaning back into your pillows. He was there to film for the music video. He's busy with the music video. It's always for the music video. You trust Heeseung, don't you?

Winter break went by like the cold breeze and now cherry pink flowers occupied the empty branches. Flowers were blooming from the left and right, the cold winter was now in the past and you welcomed (the still cold) spring into your arms. Which meant you left whatever uneasy feeling and doubts in the past.

You were currently in Heeseung's dorm. Today was a big day, it's the day where they were gonna upload the music video and Heeseung wanted you to be there to watch it with him. Heeseung picked you up from the bus stop and then took you out for lunch. Thankfully it was the weekend so you could stay for the night.

Heeseung was at his desk, his thumbs typing away as he laughed silently at his phone. You wondered who he was texting. Maybe he's texting Hyewon, your mind taunted. You shook your head to drive the thoughts away, you were not going to be paranoid. You already left the bitter feelings in winter, you agreed with yourself that you'll leave it behind. You trust Heeseung.

"Who are you texting?" Yet the question slipped out of you either way.

"Huh?" Heeseung looked up, like a deer caught in headlights. "Oh, uh no one," he quickly said, turning off his phone and placing it on his desk. "I think the music video is uploaded," he added before you could question him more.

He moved to his bed, where you were sitting. You scooted over to make space for him as he sat next to you with his laptop propped on his lap. He clicked into his senior's channel, Jeong Yunho, you took note. And there it was, the music video, uploaded forty five seconds ago. You let out an excited noise once you saw it.

"Not for sale," you read the title out loud. Heeseung had a proud look on.

The music video started off with a frame of Heeseung and Hyewon facing each other, then he handed her a note with the words "Not For Sale" on it. The camera then panned out to film the sky where the title appeared again in bold, and the song started to play. The song had a bubbly beat to it and Heeseung's angelic voice accompanied it. The music video was filled with pastels and some scenes were filmed at the amusement park. Specifically, at the carousel. There weren't any scenes of the Ferris Wheel though, you noted.

The video ended with Heeseung and Hyewon holding hands as they face the sunset, while the camera slowly zooms away from them and into the sky. The last scene was a black screen with all the credits listed out. When you saw Heeseung's name being credited for writing the song, you felt a sense of pride inside of you. Your boyfriend wrote this song, of course you're going to be proud.

Once the video ended, you threw your arms around Heeseung. Heeseung laughed as he wrapped an arm around your middle and the other holding onto his laptop. You planted a big fat kiss on his cheek and he tightened his hold on you.

"The song was so good, Hee! I'm so proud of you, babe," you complimented him, one hand reaching up to ruffle his hair while the other cupped his cheek.

Heeseung smiled and leaned into your touch. "Thank you so much, lovely. This song means a lot to me," he kissed your nose. "I actually thought of you when I wrote this song," he confessed.

You blinked at him, your heart beating faster as you processed his words. You were kneeling on his bed as he looked up at you, pink dusted on his cheeks. Instead of saying anything, you threw yourself onto him, tightly wrapping your arms around his torso to buried your head in his neck. Heeseung let out an "oof" when you knocked him back onto his bed, his laptop on the edge of his bed.

"I love you," you mumbled.

"I love you, too," he said. His hand reached up to stroke your head as the both of you laid there in each other's embrace.

A few minutes passed and Heeseung tapped on your head to get your attention. "Hm?" you hummed in reply.

"I need to go pee, love."

"No," you said stubbornly, tightening your arms around him.

"Please, love. I'll be back fast, I promise," Heeseung told you, looking down on you.

You lifted your head to rest your chin on his chest as you narrowed your eyes at him. "Hng, fine," you pouted before you rolled off him.

"Thank you, lovely," he pecked your lips before pushing himself off his bed, not before moving his laptop to his desk.

You watched as Heeseung left his dorm to go to the restroom. You stretched your arms upwards, making grabby hands in the air before sitting up. You reached over to his desk, which was next to the bed, to get your phone when you saw Heeseung's phone lit up. You knew you shouldn't have looked but when her name was in bold white, you couldn't look away.

[4:47 pm] hyewon: can't wait to do it again hee!

"Can't wait to do it again?" You read the message out loud. Can't wait to do what again? And since when did Hyewon called him "Hee"? That was your nickname for him. The bitter feelings from winter crept back into you like the cold seeping in through the crack of your window. Why did you feel so uneasy whenever Hyewon was alone with Heeseung? Was there something going on?

No, they're just friends, Y/N, you reminded yourself. Just friends.

The door opened and your eyes snapped up to see Heeseung returning from the restroom. Suddenly, you wanted to get out of here. You don't know why, but that text message from her just rubbed you the wrong way and you wanted to get out of there before you say something you regret.

"Ryujin just texted me that she needs my help," you lied. You stood up to grab your coat and bag from the chair.

"Woah, woah, what's with the hurry?" Heeseung took a hold of your wrist as he looked at you. But your eyes didn't meet his.

"Ryujin has an emergency, she needs my help," you said again, this time firmly.

"Oh," his grip on you loosened and you pulled your hand back to you. "I'll drive you back-"

"No, it's fine," you cut him off. "I-I'll take the bus home. I'll call you tonight," the words rushed out of your lips and soon enough you were out of his door.

You did not call him that night.

You ignored Ryujin's questions when you reached your dorm, she didn't press on. Now it was Sunday morning and Ryujin had left for breakfast. You felt bad for leaving Heeseung like that and ignoring Ryujin when she just wanted to help you. And you knew you should've talked it out instead of walking out. Sighing, you curled deeper into your blanket.

After a few minutes, you threw your covers off and sat up. Maybe some warm breakfast would make you feel better. So you went down to the cafeteria to see your friends all huddled up at the corner.

"Y/N, just in time!" Jeongin called out. Curious, you walked towards them and saw that they were watching Heeseung's music video.

"The song is so sweet," Chaeryeong cooed, leaning onto you.

You let out an awkward laugh, not quite sure what to feel because of the act you pulled yesterday.

"It has almost two thousand views. I bet you must feel so proud, huh," Chaeryeong said.

You bit the inside of your cheek as you nodded. Now you feel even more bad, Heeseung wrote this song for you and you should've stayed at his dorm to celebrate with him. Instead, you left because you saw one text message without context. You were being a bad girlfriend, you should apologise to him.

"Who's the other girl? She's really pretty," Jeongin suddenly asked.

"Ah, that's Hyewon. She's his neighbour," you explained.

"Hyewon? As in Kang Hyewon?" Daehwii suddenly said. He was passing by when he heard you say her name and pulled a chair across Jeongin. You nodded. "Oh, I know her," he casually said.

You tilted your head to the side. "You do?" Jeongin leaned forward. You heard Ryujin mumble "simp" under her breath, and you bit back a laugh.

"Mhmm," Daehwii nodded and pulled out his phone. A few seconds later, he showed his phone screen and it was Hyewon's Instagram. "I went to the same high school with her, she was really popular. All the teachers said she had the face of an actress. There was a rumour that she even got scouted by an entertainment company."

Ryujin reached over to grab his phone to scroll through her account. "Woah, she has like two hundred thousand followers," she said in amazement. You leaned closer to Ryujin to check, Hyewon sure was popular.

"Yeah, she's a free-lance model and I think she models for smaller brands," Daehwii added.

You couldn't help but feel very small next to her. She was beautiful and she had somewhat of a reputation in the entertainment industry, a rising model. Imagine what kind of connections she could get for Heeseung…

"I bet Heeseung wrote this song for you," Ryujin suddenly said, smoothly switching the topic back to the song.

You felt your cheeks to warm up at her words. Sheepishly, you nodded. Your friends immediately reacted with a chorus of "ooh"s and Chaeryeong playfully nudged your shoulder. "Fuck Romeo and Juliet, I want what these bitches have," Jeongin quoted and the rest of you fell into laughter.

After breakfast, you and Ryujin strolled back to your rooms with your arms linked together. She was telling you about what happened when you weren't here yesterday. "And then he said and I quote "sometimes bullying is okay" just as a family was walking by, the mom was literally glaring at us," you laughed as she told you. "And then- oh," she stopped, and you stopped as well. She was looking ahead of you so you followed her gaze.

"Heeseung?" His name left your lips before you could even process the whole situation.

Heeseung waved awkwardly at you, internally wincing when you used his full name. You and Ryujin exchanged a look before Ryujin pushed you towards him. You stumbled right into his arms but you took a step out of his arms, you rubbed your forearms instead.

"What are you doing here?" You asked him.

"Ah," he rubbed the back of his neck, "I wanted to surprise you since you left early yesterday. I hope you were able to solve Ryujin's problem."

At the mention of Ryujin's "emergency", you stiffened because you didn't mention that you had used her in a lie. You could feel her eyes on you and mentally hope that she got the message.

"Uh, yeah. It was solved," Ryujin replied with an awkward chuckle. "Actually, I forgot I had to meet up with Chaeryeong so it was great seeing you, Heeseung." You turned around and mouthed a "thank you" at her and she gave you a look as if to say "we are going to talk about this later".

And then the two of you were left alone in the empty hallway. Was it always this awkward?

Heeseung stood awkwardly in your room. This was the first time he looked so out of place. Usually, you were the one at his dorm. He doesn't come over to yours that often since he was more busy than you. So it truly was a surprise when you saw him outside your door.

"So, uh, how are you?" He asked.

You hummed in reply. "I'm doing fine," as you sat down on your bed.

"Great! That's great," he coughed while he played with his fingers.

And then the awkward silence returns. You knew it was your fault for walking out yesterday, you probably made him think he did something wrong. When really it was just you refusing to communicate. You gripped your sheets, your mind running laps on what to say. But he beat you to it.

"Did I do something wrong?"

Your eyes snapped up to finally meet his eyes, he was looking at you with brown innocent eyes. Your heart broke a bit at the sight. "It's not you," you assured him. "It's…it's just me," you told him truthfully.

Heeseung looked at you with confusion, he didn't understand what was wrong. He wanted to help but he didn't know how. So instead, he slowly moved to sit next to you. When you did not move away, he took it as a sign of permission. So he took your hands into his, slowly rubbing circles on top of your hand.

"I'm sorry," you whispered.

"Love, what are you even sorry about?" He softly asked.

"I saw you at the amusement park that day," you confessed.

Heeseung's fingers stopped moving. "Oh," was all he could say. You bit the inside of your cheek, the atmosphere shifted but you can't read him at all.

"I'm sorry," you whispered again because you didn't know what to say. "Ever since that day, I've been feeling weird whenever I see you with Hyewon and I don't like it."

"Love," he softly cupped your cheek to make you look at him, "are you perhaps jealous?" he asked with a teasing tone. You shifted your gaze to the side, you were jealous but you were reluctant to admit it. But your avoiding eyes already sold you out. Heeseung chuckled and brought you into his embrace. "There's nothing to be jealous of. Hyewon and I are just friends," he assured you.

His voice was genuine when he told you and you felt a sense of relief hearing him say those words. You fell forward to hug him and Heeseung immediately accepted you. He planted a kiss on the top of your head and sighed. "Next time we're gonna be honest with each other, okay?"

"Okay."

Heeseung was right, honesty was the key to maintaining a healthy relationship, Heeseung has been nothing but truthful to you since the start, and you allowed yourself to be overwhelmed by your insecurities instead of talking it out. This reminded you of when Heeseung once shut you out because he didn't want to burden you.

He hid his passion for music from you because he thought you would react like his parents, against him. He refused to tell you the truth which left you confused and hurt. Did I do something wrong? The question was constantly in your head. It wasn't until you forced it out of him, and it was the first time you saw his composed figure break down in tears. You embraced him and assured him with comforting words, you loved him at his worst.

And you told him the exact same words: "Next time we're gonna be honest with each other, okay?"

Exam season was the most painful time of your life. Everyday was the same routine: wake up, eat, study, sleep and repeat. You're starting to spend more time in the library than in the comfort of the dorm. Heeseung was just as busy as you, the both of you rarely have enough time to check up on each other. But you tried and so did he.

You plucked out your earphones and let it fall into your lap as you stretched your arms upwards. Chaeryeong and Ryujin were scattered around your shared room, with the latter laying face down on her bed. The three of you had spent your entire morning studying for your own examinations. You had sent Heeseung a quick good morning text before telling him that your phone will be on silent mode until you were done.

That was six hours ago. You pushed your laptop away from you as you reached over for your phone. You smiled when you saw your first notification was from your boyfriend.

[8:15 am] hee <3: okay remember to stay hydrated love! and take some breaks in between!!!

"Look at her, smiling all lovey dovey and shit," Ryujin sneered at you in disgust as she lifted herself onto her elbows.

You stuck your tongue out at her before typing a reply.

[3:52 pm] y/n: guess who's done studying??

While waiting for his reply, you decided to scroll through Instagram. Tapping through people's stories, you stumbled upon Hyewon's one. (She had followed you a few weeks ago.) Your thumb pressed down on your phone screen as your breath hitched. It was a photo of Heeseung, it looked like he was in the library and he was reading a book. The words "with mr. hardworking" positioned above his head. You tapped through to the next slide and it was a candid of Heeseung looking up at her with a smile, his hand outreached to grab her phone. This time the words "oops, got caught" were written on the side. You checked and saw it was posted ten minutes okay.

You frowned at the two photos. You knew Heeseung said they were just friends, but you couldn't shake that uneasy feeling away. Your mind was telling you that they weren't but your heart was with Heeseung.

"Who's that?" Chaeryeong suddenly asked.

You jump, startled. Since when was she behind you? Chaeryeong ignored your expression and leaned towards your phone. "Isn't that Heeseung? Who's he with?" She asked.

"Hyewon," you answered.

Ryujin crawled over to plop down next to you, her curious eyes peering up at your phone. "The same girl we saw at the amusement park?" The short-haired girl asked.

You looked down at her, shocked. You never told her about what you saw last winter. Ryujin understood your expression and rolled her eyes. "I'm not dumb, Y/N," she said.

Chaeryeong looked between the two of you with confusion. "Did something happen when we were at the amusement park?"

"Y/N saw Heeseung and Hyewon getting on the Ferris Wheel together."

"Ryujin!"

"What?" She shrugged at you. "We did see them there and it was the reason you were upset," she stated with her arms crossed, now sitting crossed legged next to you.

Chaeryeong gasped beside you and placed her hands in front of her mouth. "Do you think he's cheating on you?"

"Chaeryeong!" Ryujin hissed at the other girl. "Heeseung isn't the kind to do that," she defended him despite what she said before, "right, Y/N?" Ryujin nudged your elbow.

You opened your mouth to defend your boyfriend but no words were said. You bit your lips, Heeseung wouldn't be the kind to cheat, right? Then why were you hesitating? You wanted to agree with Ryujin and say that Heeseung would never cheat on you. So why were you doubting him?

"I'm just saying, long distance relationships never work out. Like Yeji and Soobin, they broke up like six months later," Chaeryeong shrugged innocently and leaned back on her hands as she spoke.

"But that was different, Yeji never really liked him anyways!" Ryujin countered.

"Vivi and Haseul! Everyone thought they were gonna last but they broke up the moment Vivi went home, and they were together for four years. Four years, Ryujin!" The younger girl exclaimed. "Point is, long distance relationships rarely work out."

Before Ryujin could retort, your phone lit up and all three of you looked down. It was a notification from Heeseung.

[4:01 pm] hee <3: hey sorry i was with taehyun

The three of you blinked at the message, Ryujin and Chaeryeong exchanged a look. While you just stared at the notification, refusing to tap into the chat. Did Heeseung just lie to you?

Something shifted in your relationship, you could tell. Calls with Heeseung were now cut short and text messages got short. At first, you blamed it on the upcoming exams and you told yourself that Heeseung was equally busy as you. Sometimes you were too tired to send a text because all you wanted was to sleep but when you tried to give him a call, he always brushed you off with a "I'm busy" text.

Text messages now never got past the "how was your day" before he said that he was going to sleep. Ever since that day with Ryujin and Chaeryeong, you turned a blind eye to the text message. Maybe he really was with Taehyun, you wouldn't actually know.

But that's the thing, isn't it? You would never know what really happens because you're not there with him, your mind taunted you. You shook away the thoughts and tried to be positive. Exams had ended a few days ago and Chaeryeong suggested that you should surprise him with a visit.

So here you were, on the bus to Heeseung's university. You could barely contain your smile, it's been so long since you last saw him and you just missed him so much. You could imagine how happy he would be to see you. An hour later, the bus came to a stop and you thanked the bus driver before boarding off.

Tightening your coat around you, you looked at the road ahead of you with a determined look. You were gonna surprise Heeseung today. And nothing was going to stop you from doing so. You reached the entrance of the school and sent a friendly smile to the security guards.

You made your way towards Heeseung's dorm, your feet have walked this path multiple times. You were familiar with these hallways. Soon enough you reached his door, you patted your clothes and fixed your hair before raising your fist. Your hand hovered in front of the wooden door, Heeseung was one door away from you. Knocking precisely three times on the door, you took a step back and clasped your hands behind you. You couldn't wait to see his smile when he sees you.

"Surprise!" You said, doing jazz hands the moment the door opened.

"Y/N? What are you doing here?" Heeseung asked you.

You blinked, slightly lowering your hands. Heeseung wasn't smiling at you like you thought he would be, instead he was looking down on you with furrowed eyebrows. His hair was dishevelled, like he ran his fingers through it multiple times and he wasn't opening the door fully, like he was blocking something.

"I was going to surprise you, since exams are over and all-"

"Why didn't you text me beforehand?" He cut you off.

You narrowed your eyes at him and crossed your arms, annoyed that he was questioning you instead of being happy to see you. "Because it was a surprise, Hee, that's the whole point. I wasn't supposed to tell you, surprises don't work like that."

Heeseung opened his mouth but cut himself off with a sigh, he turned his head around to look inside then back at you. "I didn't mean it that way, I just wished you would've told me before," he repeated with a softer tone this time.

You frowned and dropped your arms, you shouldn't have listened to Chaeryeong. Maybe you should leave, the next bus would be in two hours. Heeseung was still leaning against his door, you couldn't see past him. "Whatever, I'll leave then," you mumbled and waved him off, turning on your heel to walk away.

"Y/N! Wait!" Heeseung called after you but you ignored his calls and just continued forward. The taller boy caught up with you and grabbed your wrist.

You tried to shake him off but his hold on you was strong. "Let me go," you said through gritted teeth.

"No, you're mad," he said.

"Of course, I am! I wanted to surprise my boyfriend after not seeing him for weeks but he doesn't even look happy to see me!" You sneered at him, still trying to shake his hand off your wrist.

Heeseung's hands moved to hold your shoulders instead to keep you in place, forcing you to look at him. "Hey, I didn't say I wasn't happy to see you. I am happy to see you, okay? It's just that today's a busy day, love," he explained to you softly.

You stopped squirming and sighed. "Sorry, I just…I just really missed you okay," you told him. You overreacted and got mad at him without letting him explain himself. "Sorry," you said again.

Heeseung smiled warmly at you and pulled you into a hug. "It's okay, love," he planted a kiss on top of your head. You rested your chin on his shoulder and returned the hug.

Then, you watched as a certain blonde walked out of Heeseung's room. Hyewon stepped out of his room and waved at you with a smile. Was Heeseung hiding her? You slightly pushed Heeseung away and he took a step back in confusion. He turned around to see Hyewon and then back at you.

"Hyewon and I were working on a project," he quickly explained.

"Yeah," the other girl nodded in agreement. "If I had known you were coming today, I wouldn't have bothered Heeseung," she said.

"Ah, no. I'm sorry for interrupting the two of you," you apologised, slightly ducking your head. You're not sure if you meant the apology. Should you be sorry that you interrupted them? But Heeseung was your boyfriend.

"Well, I'll leave you two be," Hyewon smiled at the both of you before walking away.

You watched as Heeseung smiled at her and how his eyes followed her figure until she disappeared down the stairs. You bit your lower lip and clenched your fist together, feeling uneasy in your chest once again. Your hand reached to tug on his sleeve and he finally looked at you, like he forgot you were there in the first place.

He moved to hold your hand and lead you into his room, not before smiling softly at you. Instead of the usual feeling of butterflies in your stomach whenever he smiled at you, there was a sinking feeling. Because he smiled at Hyewon the same way. Your lips raised a small smile for him but it didn't reach your eyes. He doesn't seem to notice.

The door closed behind the two of you and you swung your arms before clasping your hands behind you. "So, what was Hyewon doing here?" You tried to ask naturally.

Heeseung wasn't looking at you when he replied, "She was here for a project," he hummed.

"What project?" You continued to ask more.

"For school," he simply replied, taking a seat on his bed.

You leaned against his desk while nodding your head. "Ah, so you're helping her?"

"Uh huh."

"Ah, didn't know you guys were this close…"

"Well, we are neighbours so it's just natural that we grew close, you know," he shrugged.

"Close enough to get on the Ferris Wheel with," you muttered under your breath. You thought Heeseung wasn't able to pick up what you said but his eyes snapped to look at you. You gulped, knowing you were caught.

"Love, I already said that we were there for the music video shooting," he told you with a tired sigh.

"I know, I know but I can't help feeling jealous, Hee," you explained yourself.

Your boyfriend sighed exasperatedly as he ran his fingers through his hair. "I already told you that we're just friends, there's nothing to be jealous of."

"Well, you would be jealous too if your boyfriend didn't mention that he was going to the amusement park with you and you found him hanging with another girl!" You scoffed sarcastically.

"I already told you it wasn't planned, Y/N. Why don't you trust me?" His voice was slightly raised when he spoke the last sentence, his expression was begging you to drop the topic.

But your stubborn self refused to let it go and stood up straighter. "Because you're making it really hard to trust you."

"What?" He looked at you in disbelief as he stood up as well. "How am I the one being hard right now? You're just being paranoid and you're letting your insecurities get the better of you!"

"Can you blame me?!" You raised your voice at him. Anger clouded your eyes as you begged him to understand your point of view. "We're so far apart and we rarely get to talk to each other and you're always brushing me off! It's almost like you're cheating on me with Hyewon!"

Heeseung groaned in frustration and dragged his fingers across his face. "How many times do I have to tell you that we're just friends, Y/N? Hyewon literally has nothing to do with this! I don't get why you hate her."

"Cause you talk to her while we're together," you knew that sounded childish and selfish but you were blurting whatever that came to mind.

"Oh, so now I'm not allowed to talk to other girls?" He curled an eyebrow at you while crossing his arms.

Your words were caught in your throat. "I didn't mean it like that-"

"Then what do you mean, Y/N? You never acted like this before," Heeseung rubbed his temples.

"Because!" You threw your hands out in frustration, trying to convey your words out, "I don't know what's happening in your life because we're not in the same school and I'm scared that you're cheating on me with Hyewon!"

Heeseung knitted his eyebrows at you, you don't know if it was from confusion or annoyance, maybe both. "Cheating? No, you just don't trust me! Never once did I doubt your relationship with Jeongin, so why are you doing this to me?"

"Don't bring Jeongin into this," you sneered at him, "you knew Jeongin since we were in high school. Hyewon is a completely different story. You…you look at her like…you're in love," your voice slowly died at the end, it was the final hit on the nail. You looked up at Heeseung, his eyes widened at your words.

They said the eyes are the window to your soul. Brown guilty eyes just stared at you, because you were right. Heeseung couldn't figure out his feelings and you just did it for him. Your boyfriend was falling out of love with you and he was falling for someone new. And you watched as he realised it right in front of you. You swore you heard your heart crack.

He held his head and took a step back from you, silence fell upon the both of you. "I-I think you should go," he managed to say.

"Yeah," you croaked out, your throat was swelling up. You walked past Heeseung in hurried steps and out the door to the stairs. You never saw how Heeseung dropped to his bed with his head in his head as guilty tears slowly rolled down his cheeks.

God, you wished he had thought this through before you went and fell in love with him.

You haven't talked to Heeseung since that day, you knew that your relationship was over but your heart refused to believe it until those words came from Heeseung himself. A dark cloud hung over you and your friends didn't dare to ask. You felt betrayed by him.

You loved him at his worst, but that didn't matter. He gave you his word, but that didn't matter too. You were bitter, angry, devastated, heartbroken. But you couldn't cry, your heart was full of tears yet nothing came out. A single piece of tape holding back your fragile heart. A small sign of hope that you were wrong and Heeseung still loved you.

In the middle of a cold winter day, you were nestled between your warm sheets. Chaeryeong and Ryujin had left for lunch, not before promising to get you something. In the midst of your dark covers, your phone screen lit up and caught your attention.

[2:23 pm ] hee <3: We need to talk, I'm outside your door right now.

What? Your head snapped up to look at your front door. There's no way he was standing outside right now. Gulping, you pushed yourself up and walked to the door. Your hand hesitated, hovering right in front of the silver door knob. You already knew what was coming. Taking a deep breath, you opened the door.

The same brown guilty eyes looked at you, and the little white lies from before all came crashing down at once. You stepped to the side to let him in and closed the door. Your back was facing him, you refused to look at him. Your hope was wavering, you don't know if you accepted it or not.

"I'm sorry," he was the first to break the silence. you still refused to turn around. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

Lies, lies, lies. You shut your eyes closed, your hand was still on the door knob, holding it tightly.

He inhaled a deep breath before saying his next words, "This is the end."

The words pierced your heart and it started to fall apart. This doesn't feel like a break up, it was the end of your story. It was him telling you that he was removing himself from your life. Falling out of love hurts, but losing a friend is the worst.

"Do you still love me?"

"What?"

"Do you still love me?" You finally turned around, your glossy eyes looking right at him.

Without a heartbeat, he said, "No."

And when you were alone again in your room, your heart finally shattered and the tears poured out like a waterfall. You fell to your knees with your hands clutching your heart, ugly sobs escaped from your lips. You were crying out the pain as big fat tears dropped onto the wooden floor,

Chaeryeong and Ryujin nearly dropped the food when they found you broken on the tear stained floor.

Two weeks later (after being forced to get out of bed by Ryujin), you found your friends huddled at the same place of the cafeteria like when the music video was released. They were surrounding Daehwii with their heads ducked, whispering to each other.

"What are you guys doing?" Ryujin's voice caught their attention and their heads lifted to see the both of you, eyes widening at the sight of you.

Everyone exchanged nervous glances whereas you and Ryujin were left confused. You tilted your head to the sign to show that you were confused while Ryujin raised an eyebrow as if demanding an explanation. Chaeryeong shoved Daehwii's shoulder and gave him a look, silently telling him to break the news.

Daehwii nervously looked between you and his phone before sighing, his shoulders dropping. Instead of saying anything, he showed you his phone. Ryujin reached over to take the device from him before you could see anything and squinted her eyes. The short haired girl inhaled a sharp breath and looked at your friends, finally understanding what was happening. She then looked at you, deciding whether she should tell you or not.

"What?" You asked her, your eyebrows furrowed as your patience was running thin. What were they not telling you?

But instead of telling you, she showed you. The phone screen displayed an Instagram post with a person holding hands with someone else. The caption was a simple "with him". At first you were confused on what it had to do with you, then Ryujin tapped on the post to show you the person tagged in the post. Heeseung's username appeared, your eyes travelled up to the owner of the post and it read Hyewon's name.

"Oh," was all you could say.

Your gaze averted down and you don't see how your friends exchange worried glances. "Y/N..." Chaeryeong softly called out to you while she walked towards you. She angled her head to look at your face with her arms around you.

Your mind was a mess, it took him two weeks to find someone new. No, not someone new. It took him two weeks to go off and date her. He talked to her when you were together. And you knew if he truly loved you, there was no damn way he could fall in love with somebody that quickly. Ryujin and Chaeryeong embraced you but you felt numb. He betrayed you. And you knew that he'll never feel sorry for the way you hurt.

"He cheated on you," you heard Jeongin say, but you shook your head as you tried to rub the tears away.

"Guess he didn't cheat but he's still a traitor," Jeongin rephrased.

The girls hugged you tighter when you let out a choked sob. Jeongin was right, he didn't cheat but he was a traitor. You played dumb but you always knew that he'd talk to her, maybe did even worse but you kept quiet so you could keep him.

God you wished that he had thought it through, before you went and fell in love with him.

a/n: this took so long to write and i wrote more than i expected. thank you for waiting and reading this, see y'all in "drivers license"!

#chaeryybomb; the sour series #enhypen #lee heeseung #enhypen imagines #enhypen x reader #lee heeseung imagines #lee heeseung x reader #heeseung #heeseung imagines #heeseung x reader #enhypen angst #lee heeseung angst #heeseung angst #kpop imagines #enhypen scenarios #lee heeseung scenarios #heeseung scenarios

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ahtsumu · 4 years ago

Text

long shots ; miya osamu

pairing: miya osamu x f!reader

synopsis: miya osamu is the teacher’s assistant for food chemistry i. you can’t stop thinking about him.

tag(s): college!au, slow burn, TA!miya osamu, grad student!reader, fluff, reader is a go-getter!! ; warning(s): profanity, suggestive themes, talk of insecurities and imposter syndrome ; wc: 5.6k

a/n: happy birthday to @starrysamu! i love u. pls excuse any errors. i’ll weed them out later! btw this fic is not a sugar daddy au LOL

HIS NAME IS Miya Osamu and he always looks like he has it all figured out. Comes in every class with his black hair perfectly tousled, the sleeves of his dark button-up rolled to his elbows, a cup of coffee in one hand and the strap of that black messenger bag in another.

“He drives a BMW, did ya know?” Isla says in your ear one morning. Your only friend in Food Chemistry I gives you a pointed look before sitting back in her chair in the lecture hall with a smirk on her face. “Saw it this morning. Bet he’s loaded.” The two of you watch the subject in question walk across the classroom and settle in his seat at the table in the corner.

“Shut up,” you whisper with wide eyes. A grin–– far from innocent–– makes its way onto your face. “Imagine being Miya Osamu’s sugar baby.”

“He’s not old enough to be a sugar daddy.” Isla looks at her nails disinterestedly. “And that’s too many AUs in one. He’s already the TA, for god’s sake. This isn’t some shitty Wattpad novel.”

A light giggle slips out of your lips. “I can see the title already. My Sugar Daddy is the TA?!”

Now, if anyone had been listening in on your conversation, they would’ve assumed many things about you. The first being that you’re both gold-diggers. This is untrue–– at least, in your case. Isla, you’re not so sure about, given how your friendship only goes back about one month. But she tags you in memes on Instagram so maybe it’s as real as real gets. Their second assumption would be that you have a big fat crush on your TA. That one’s complicated, mostly because it’s true, but only kinda. It all started in the second week of school when Isla caught you staring at Osamu and slipped you a post-it note with both your initials encircled in a heart. And, because you’re shameless with a good sense of humour, you made a show of kissing it while she was looking. And thus began your meaningless but incredibly entertaining, satirical, co-written fantasy about Miya Osamu.

It also didn’t help that on the first essay you got back, Isla’s paper had been marked up with “are you sure?”s and “this is a jump”s, while yours had “excellent reasoning” and “insightful analysis”. You’d even gotten a little comment at the bottom: y/n, fantastic work. you should speak up in class more often. –– OM

But Miya Osamu doesn’t play favourites because the next week you’d gotten another essay back, this time with another comment at the bottom: y/n, not your best work. you could’ve done better by connecting your first paragraph with the second using grant’s reading. conclusion lacked punch, too. all the best. –– OM

Every time you’d read the words scrawled in blue ink, you’d felt a pair of eyes on you. But you chalk it up to Osamu being a careful grader. A good TA. Someone who cares about his students.

Isla calls bullshit on that. You’re not really sure how to feel about her stance.

The classroom door opens and shuts again. You don’t have to look at your phone to know that it’s nine on the dot. Instead, you and Isla straighten your backs, pull out your notebooks, and focus. Your no-nonsense professor says “good morning” in her usual perky manner before jumping right into her keynote presentation.

“Did you all find the reading okay?” Professor Lee asks an hour into the lecture.

A chorus of “yes”s fill the air. You bite your lip, wondering if revealing that you didn’t understand shit will out you as the class idiot. Or maybe your silence is telling enough–– maybe the people in the seats beside you have noticed the grimace on your face and are having thoughts like ‘gee whiz, am I glad I’m not dumb like her’. Heat rushes to your cheeks. Sometimes you really wonder if you’re smart enough to be here. Occurrences like these do nothing to dispel your insecurities.

You vaguely hear her ask something like, “Any thoughts about the reading?” It’s not that you’re actually dumb. It’s just that this class is ridiculously hard for an introductory course, even for a graduate programme. From the start of the semester til now, fifteen people have dropped the class. There’s just twenty of you left. Guess a ridiculously hot TA can’t save a course’s drop-rate.

Before you can make your mind up on what to say, your professor moves on from her question.

As you look off to the side of the room for a break from your thoughts, you find a pair of blue-grey eyes pointed in your direction.

Everything about you, from the expression on your face to the way your muscles tense, makes you look like a deer caught in headlights–– even though he was the one caught staring in the first place. So maybe your shamelessness works on a scale.

Miya Osamu lifts one corner of his mouth.

And as if the exchange hadn’t happened at all, he looks back down at his laptop and continues typing.

The rest of the lecture goes through one ear and out the other.

“Everyone, I believe Osamu has something he wants to say,” Professor Lee says as everyone begins packing their bags.

The raven-haired TA slides out of his seat and sits on top of his desk. “Yeah.” Osamu clears his throat and crosses his arms over his chest. You notice how the muscles in his arms bulge from the movement.

“Whipped,” Isla mutters, grinning mischievously.

“Him for me,” you whisper back, though your eyes do travel back to his face where they should’ve been all along. Osamu catches your gaze and holds it. And then he looks away again.

“Now, I know you’re all Nobel prizewinners in the making,” he begins, garnering a round of snickers and giggles from your classmates. Most people say that cliques dissolve in college. That there’s no such thing as popularity amongst graduate students. That much, you agree with. But no one ever said anything about popular teacher’s assistants. Especially smart, attractive, witty teacher’s assistants like Miya Osamu. “But in case you didn’t understand the reading or would like to develop a deeper understanding of it, don’t hesitate to email me. I’ll try to host a review session all of us can attend.”

Professor Lee smiles appreciatively at Osamu, adding, “That’s a wonderful idea, Osamu. Guys, please take this opportunity if you struggled with the reading. I know eighty pages is a lot, but our next three classes are structured around the concepts in the reading and the mid-term next week will almost exclusively be about it, too.”

Well, shit.

To: [email protected]

Hi Osamu,

I was wondering if I could get some help with the reading from last class. To be frank, I couldn’t make it past page 15 and I’m lost like a snot-faced five-year-old in a shopping mall on Black Friday. Sorry. Thanks in advance!

Regretfully,

Y/N

MS Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

From: [email protected]

no problem. is 5 pm tomorrow at jack’s okay? we start on the concepts from the reading next class so i want to get you up to speed asap. let me know. thanks.

PhD Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

It’s five minutes to five when you pull into the parking lot of Jack’s Diner. The shiny, retrofuturistic eatery is a university favourite but the empty parking lot tells you it’s completely deserted right now (and rightfully so–– who eats dinner before six?). The black BMW parked a few spots from your car, however, says that you’re not alone.

Osamu’s figure comes into view as you reach for the handle to the front door of Jack’s. The twenty-six-year-old sits by himself at one of the bright red tables in the back, typing away on his dark grey laptop.

His head lifts up at the sound of the opening door. Osamu calls out your name and waves you over.

“Hi,” you greet with a smile, sitting down across from him.

“Hey.”

You look around before leaning forward on the table. “Is anyone else coming?”

“No.” Osamu sits back in his seat. “I thought about hosting one big group, but then I realised that it’d probably be stressful for the staff here.” He nods his head in the direction of the kitchen. “And I had a hunch that everyone would have different questions. Forcing everyone to review concepts they already know is a waste of time.”

At first, you nod. That makes sense. But then you furrow your brows. “So how long have you been here?”

Osamu blinks. He hadn’t expected you to ask about him. “Hmm? Oh.” He taps his phone to check the time. “Just a while.”

Quirking a brow, you ask, “And how long is ‘a while’ to you?”

“Seven hours,” he admits, chuckling lightly when he sees your jaw drop. “A lot of people had questions. They just don’t act like they do. Anyway, time flies. Really, it does.” Quickly, he clears his throat and sits forward. “So, about your email.” He grins. “Not sure if you meant it to be funny, but it was.”

“I’m glad my distress was entertaining for you. Do you TA just to watch grad students suffer?”

“Perks of the job,” Osamu says. His grin widens when you giggle. He’s never heard you laugh before and he realises at that moment that it’s really nice. And then that same grin falters. Gracefully, of course, and imperceptibly to you. But not to him. Is it okay for him to be… thinking things like that? About a student? But you’re not really his student since he’s just the TA. Right? Osamu ignores the weird feeling that comes over him and clasps his hands together at the edge of his laptop. “Back to your email. Can ya tell me what you’re confused about?”

Three hours and two Impossible Burgers later, you suddenly understand everything about food molecules so well that you wonder why you’d even been confused in the first place. But besides that, you’ve also picked up things about Osamu. As a person and not an idea. Not that you’d been actively searching for fun facts about your TA. But they’d stuck to your brain like gum at the bottom of a desk. He likes to slip sarcastic quips into a conversation every now and then. Eats burgers upside down (“The right way,” as he’d said, smirking). Is friendlier than he looks.

“You’re really good at explaining things,” you comment as Osamu shuts his laptop closed.

“Well, I kinda have to be,” he says. And maybe it’s the mental fatigue catching up on him or the fact that he’s real fond of the reason why he can break big concepts down into morsels but suddenly, the rest of his thoughts spill out his mouth like wine. “I have a twin brother with potato salad for brains.”

“Oh?”

And before he can stop himself, he tells you about Miya Atsumu, the pro-athlete you’ve definitely heard of but never gave too much thought. And then you hold onto the fact that they were both on the volleyball team and you ask of which school, so then he tells you about Inarizaki, the high school he attended, and then his decision not to go pro to go to college, and then––

“Sorry,” he laughs, cheeks turning pink. “You probably didn’t need to hear all that.”

“No, it’s fine,” you say–– and you mean it. “Your life is interesting.”

Osamu leans back in his chair. “Well, I’m sure yours is, too.” He holds your gaze like it’s the key to your presence. It’s an invitation. The kind that comes from people who don’t really know if they want you around but also don’t want you gone.

You take it.

Osamu shouldn’t–– he really shouldn’t–– but he wonders about the things you didn’t tell him the entire drive home.

Isla laughs when you tell her about what happened at Jack’s. You lay in bed with your phone next to you on speaker, your face turned on your pillow so that you’re staring out the window at the city below.

“He wants you,” she sings.

“Or he was just being nice.”

“Methinks not!” Isla giggles. “He’s intrigued, girl! You’re like that cute little new mystery in his life and he just wants to get to know you.”

“I think he was just being polite.”

“Or he’s crushing on you!”

“In your dreams.”

“You mean yours? Boo, you’re no fun today. Usually, you go along with the jokes.” Isla’s tone is playful on the surface but full of implications.

A few silent seconds pass. Yeah, you think, agreeing. I do.

“Girl,” Isla drags out the word in a high pitch, saying it like a scientist says ‘eureka’. “You’re not playing along anymore because it’s real now. You're actually catching feelings!”

“Am not!” you laugh.

“The Y/N I knew would’ve said ‘nah, bitch, he’s catching feelings’ and I think that says all there is to say.”

“Okay, I think he’s cute but it’s not a crush,” you concede, grinning. “And he’s the TA, Isles. It’d never happen.”

“Not while he’s still a TA in a class you take.”

“Isla.”

“Ask him out once this semester ends! Unless you’re chicken.”

“I’m not asking him out.”

“Knew you were––”

“Have you seen me? He’s asking me out.”

Miya Osamu walks through the door at eight-fifty as usual that next morning, dressed in his usual button-up, holding his usual cup of coffee. But this time, as the rest of his tall frame passes through the doorway, Osamu’s eyes subtly scan the faces in the lecture hall, lingering for just a while over yours. The corners of your lips turn up. You hope he saw that.

“Bitch!” Isla whisper-screams. The students sitting around you turn around at the noise and grin at each other when they realise it’s just Isla being… well, Isla. She shoos them away jokingly.

“What?” you whisper back.

“Care to explain why our TA was literally eye-fucking you?”

“That was hardly eye-fucking,” you retort. “Maybe like an eye-handshake.”

“Yeah, a naked eye-handshake where his thang is handshaking your––”

He does it again the next class.

And the next.

And then he doesn’t. Miya Osamu walks through the door to Food Chemistry I at eight-fifty in the morning in a navy blue button-up with a cup of coffee in his hand and looks through the rows of seats in the lecture hall for your face, only to find it missing.

He debates pressing the matter.

To: [email protected]

hey osamu,

i wasn’t in class today because i’ve been sick with the flu (no big deal, just feel like i’m dying). a classmate sent me pictures of the slides from today so i think i should be fine, but is it okay if i email you with any questions? thank you very much!

miserably,

Y/N

MS Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

From: [email protected]

y/n,

of course. sorry to hear that you’re sick. let me know if i can do anything to help you. the midterm is next week. get well soon.

PhD Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

“You writing that the midterm is next week did not offer me any peace of mind, by the way,” you say, spinning around in your chair as Miya Osamu enters your pod in the library.

He offers you a wry grin. “Hello to ya, too.”

“Was that an accent?” You thought you’d heard one at Jack’s, but you couldn’t be sure because it’d been so spotty.

Osamu slips into the seat beside yours and pulls out the laptop in his messenger bag. You catch a whiff of his cologne–– something spicy and woody, but clean. It suits him. “Nice catch. Yeah, I speak a regional dialect. Took me a while to smooth it over but it still resurfaces every now and then.”

“Why?”

“It just didn’t seem fitting for a PhD candidate, I guess,” Osamu explains, opening the slides from the class you missed. A day after your initial exchange, you’d emailed him again (with a much clearer mind) and asked if he could go over the slides with you in person.

i literally feel like i’ve been given the homework from russian lit, you’d written. except the russian has been translated to hieroglyphs and my task is to choreograph an interpretive dance based on the hieroglyphs.

Osamu had snickered when he saw your email. that doesn’t even make sense. must be the fever talking, he’d been tempted to write. But that strange feeling had come over him again, the one that’d screamed at him to keep it professional, goddamnit, so he’d played it safe instead and sent is eight pm at the main library okay? He hates that you’re getting a watered-down version of his personality. Osamu swears he’s a lot more interesting when he’s not, well, a TA.

“I think it’s fine,” you say, smiling. “I like it. It’s you.” And suddenly, you’re wondering if it’s okay to be complimenting your TA. If it’s okay to say that you like things about him, or if that crosses some grey, unclear line. Is it weird to treat your TAs like they’re your friends? It’s not like TAs are real teachers. Right?

A grin–– wide and genuine and almost excited–– grows on Osamu’s face. He rubs the back of his neck as his eyes flit over to the laptop screen. “Thanks. Really.”

You nod. But you feel like there’s more that he might want to say, so you wait.

“I got a lot of shit for it when I came here for my master’s, y’know. Not to my face, of course, but people would refer to me as ‘the guy with the accent’. A professor once said it made me seem crass. Said it’d hold me back in my career.”

“So you changed.”

“Adapted,” Osamu corrects. “It’s hard to admit but conforming is sometimes all you can do when you don’t have the power to change the system. Can’t really make everyone suddenly respect a dialect.”

“And after you’re finished with your PhD, you’ll go back to speaking in that dialect?”

Osamu looks out the window and smiles, probably imagining the plans he’s already made about the future. “Yeah.”

“What if you have to speak the standard language at your job? Like, your boss is all, ‘hey man, if you don’t speak––”’

“I’ll be the boss.”

“Oh?”

And with a little more prodding, Miya Osamu tells you about the restaurant chain he plans on opening after graduation, the slides about food additives left completely untouched.

The librarian knocks on your pod a few minutes before eleven to tell you they’re closing.

“Shit,” Osamu murmurs, running his hands through his hair. You’re still laughing about something he’d said before the librarian interrupted him–– one of his stories from high school–– and he thinks that you’ve completely forgotten that the reason you came to the library was to catch up on the material you were already behind on. And now you’re behind on that. But you look so carefree right now and, actually, you’re very pretty and you’ve got such a good heart and it’s a lot for him to process but he knows he just wants to see you happy a while longer. So Osamu just slumps back in his chair and laughs along with you.

He says your name as his chuckles grow softer. “It’s pretty late. How’re you getting home?”

“I’ve a bike,” you reply. It’s good for the environment and is a pretty solid form of exercise if you do say so yourself. Sometimes you just don’t feel like driving.

Osamu presses his lips in a thin line. Would it be too much to offer you a ride? “I can drive you home. It’s really not safe for you to be alone outside, especially near midnight. You can get your bike tomorrow. Or I’ll get it for you.”

He drives fast. Not the unsafe fast that speed demons drive at, but the kind of fast where you know he’s got some edge to his character. You bring it up to him–– especially since it’s nighttime, for god’s sake, he could hit something–– and all he does is remind you how there are lamps as bright as the sun lining the entire road to your dorm. And the fact that you live in the least accessible dorm on campus.

“A twenty-minute drive?” he’d exclaimed when he saw the GPS monitor.

“A bunch of roads are closed for construction. It’s a ten-minute bike-ride because I can cut through campus.” And suddenly feeling a little burdensome, you’d added, “Sorry. I can still bike––”

“No.” He’d held his hand out in front of you, gesturing for you to stay in the passenger’s seat. “It’s not a bother at all.” Because it wasn’t. Osamu was… happy. Not that he’d admit that.

“So this BMW,” you start in a teasing tone.

Osamu smirks. “A gift.”

“Can I guess from who?”

“Sure.”

“Atsumu.”

His brows rise. “Colour me impressed.” He hadn’t expected you to remember anything he’d said about Atsumu. Or maybe he had but told himself otherwise to lower his hopes.

“I’m smart like that.”

He snorts. “Not if you keep distracting me and using your review time to…” hang out with me, get to know me, tell me things about you… “…goof off.”

You grimace. “Yeah. Sorry about that.”

Osamu makes a turn down a familiar street. It dawns upon you that you're ten minutes away from your dorm and suddenly you wish he’d just make the wrong turn at the next intersection so that you could talk to him some more. It can even be about the health benefits of fish or the molecular makeup of kale–– you don’t mind. You just want to be around him longer.

“I think you’re really smart,” Osamu says quietly. “I think you’re not processing the readings because you’re distracted, or just not fully applying yourself. Obviously, last class’s slides are a different thing, since you were absent. But you really are smart. I’ve seen your papers.”

You bite your lip to hide your grin, feeling heat rush to your cheeks. “Thank you.” You look out the window, too jacked on dopamine to think straight. “I think I still need you, though.”

And that innocuous little sentence floats right out your mouth into the air, settling between you like a little wedge before either of you even realise it. Neither of you says anything. You marinate in the awkwardness before stuttering out a clarification. “To, um, to explain things. Y’know, since you’re, uh, so good at… explaining things.”

Osamu clears his throat and chuckles stiffly. There’s a slightly pink tinge to his cheeks. “Thanks,” he says, looking straight ahead. He can’t even look at you. Fuck. It’s so awkward. “I’ll try to keep… explaining things.” Fuck. What does that even mean?

A few uncomfortable minutes pass in silence. The night can’t end like this, you think. It can’t when everything else had gone so well. You still have to see him for a few more months. “Did you know,” you start, catching Osamu’s attention, “that Jack’s Diner has a location in Italy?”

“Oh?” he asks, making the final turn to the street where your dorm is. He actually hadn’t.

“Yeah. I asked the owner about the chain a while back. Have you ever been to Italy?”

Osamu shakes his head. “I’ve been to Paris, though. To see a friend. He’s a chocolatier.”

Now, if Osamu had been your friend, you would’ve said something like well, let’s go to Italy together, except he’s not. He’s your TA and you’ve been reminded that enough tonight. So instead, you say, “When you open that restaurant of yours in Italy, let me know.”

“That’s gonna take a while,” he laughs. He appreciates how you said ‘when’, though. And he tucks that little bit of confidence you have in him somewhere deep in his mind so that it doesn’t get lost.

“Isn’t that just seven hours?” you shrug, grinning. Osamu’s BMW pulls up outside your dorm and parks as he marvels at what you just said. You’re amazing. You unbuckle your seatbelt and turn to face your driver.

“Thank you for driving me,” you say, offering him a smile.

“Yeah,” he replies.

You stretch out your hand. With a puzzled look on his face, Osamu grabs it and shakes it. Firmly. You can’t help but notice how nice his hands are. Calloused for sure, but they feel nice.

“Goodnight, Osamu.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

He watches you jog into the building before driving away. And it’s like you’ve possessed his car or something because the smell of your shampoo and perfume is everywhere and it’s too much but it’s also not enough at the same time and he can feel your palm against his as he spins the steering wheel to make a turn and for the first time in his life he doesn’t turn on the radio to fill the silence in his car. Osamu replays everything you said in his head.

But he especially thinks about that part where you said you need him.

Weeks melt into months. You turn in essays after essays for Food Chemistry I, each coming back with detailed commentary in an all-too-familiar blue scrawl. All your other classes go well–– extremely well, actually. You might just end the semester with a 4.0 if Food Chem doesn’t fuck you over. Isla still tags you in memes on Instagram. You still tell her about everything that happens with Osamu.

Speaking of.

“That’s the wrong equation,” he says behind your ear as he settles in the seat beside you. The sound of his low voice so close to your ear sends a small shiver down your spine. “You gotta switch the hydrogens.” Osamu knocks on your skull lightly. “What’s goin’ on up in there? Ya got somethin’ on your mind?”

You laugh and elbow him in the side. “Shut up, ‘Samu.” He’d told you during one of his office hours that he’d gone by that nickname because he had a teammate with a foreign name in high school. It sounded so cool, he’d said, grinning.

I think Osamu sounds pretty cool already, you’d teased.

And he’d replied, Let’s trade. I like yours, you like mine, why not share?

You teeter on the line between friends and less-than-friends and, oddly enough, more-than-friends. Sometimes you still play it safe. Sometimes he pauses between texts and real-time conversations, no doubt to scrap an instinctive reply for something more “professional”. Sometimes you say things that make him look at you with the ghost of a smile at the corners of his lips. Sometimes he calls Atsumu to scream about you.

“S’not a no,” Osamu points out. He’s dressed in a black sweater and grey trousers today. You’re suddenly reminded of how the weather’s been getting colder when someone opens the door to the university café and lets in a gust of chilly autumn air.

“Okay,” you admit, setting down the pencil. “I just… don’t really feel prepared for this next test.”

Osamu frowns and looks down at your worksheet. “Your process is correct, though.”

“Right, but… I don’t know. I’ve just not been feeling great about myself lately,” you laugh, looking down at your feet. “Food Chem’s the toughest class I’ve ever taken. And remember how I completely embarrassed myself in that class discussion last week? It’s not really making me feel like I belong here.”

“Imposter syndrome,” Osamu remarks.

“Correct-o.”

He says your name softly and puts a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Maybe you’re not the smartest, but you’re definitely smart. And you belong here. I’ve seen your papers. They’re just as great as anyone else’s and I don’t hand out compliments for nothin’. You’re gonna do some great things but ya can’t improve if you ever give up.” Osamu searches your eyes for a sign of your understanding.

There’re a lot of things you want to say but you don’t know how to put them into words. “Can I hug you?” you finally ask.

Osamu doesn’t even think about it. “Of course.”

He feels you smile against his chest and wonders if you can feel his heart beat faster.

Isla camps out in your dorm as finals come around the corner.

“I don’t understand shit!” she wails, throwing her notebook into the air.

“Isles, it’s okay,” you laugh, slipping out of your chair and walking over to her nest in the corner. “You gotta chill, dude.”

“Not fair! I didn’t have a hunk holding my hand through this course all semester,” she retorts, humour glittering in her dark eyes. “I had the Organic Chemistry Tutor and his accent’s cute enough but, girl, you had Miya Fucking Osamu!”

“You’re literally the worst.” You giggle and sit down beside her. “Tell me what you’re confused about. I’ll try to explain it to you.” The way Osamu does.

You text him that you’d channelled his brains later that night.

His reply comes seconds later. all you, einstein.

From: osamu

good luck on the exam

you’re going to kill it

To: osamu

would u like to divulge any… information about it? 😏 😏 😏

From: osamu

bye

To: osamu

i was kidding :(

From: osamu

fine. tip #1: write your name

To: osamu

not very helpful. 0/10

From: osamu

keep running your mouth and 0/10 is what your score’s going to be

i’m kidding

you got this, y/n

“Holy fuck,” Isla groans as you cross the street to head to lunch at Jack’s. “If you don’t see me next semester it’s because I’ve gotten my grade back and decided to drop out.”

“What would you do?” you ask, amused.

“Maybe move to New Zealand. Raise some sheep. Marry a hot, blond shepherd and fuck off to a cliffside cottage.”

“Solid plan.”

“What about you?” she asks.

“What about me?”

“Remember that conversation we had at the start of the year? About your man?” The two of you reach another red light for pedestrians.

“We’re friends. He’s not my man,” you laugh. Though it pains you to. Something about being Miya Osamu’s friend doesn’t really sit right with you, but you don’t know how to not be his friend. You don’t know how to move out of the corner you’ve backed yourself into.

“But you wish he were! And now you can finally hit him with that ‘Hey, Osamu, I’ve been madly in love with you since the start of the semester, wanna fuck like rabbits and then open that store in Italy?’ and he’ll be all––”

A throat clears behind you. With wide eyes, the two of you turn around.

Holy fuck.

Miya Osamu stands behind you with his hands in his pockets and an enormous smirk on his face.

“He’ll be all what?” he asks, eyes fixed on you.

Isla murmurs an excuse and starts walking on her own to Jack’s.

“Um.” You swallow nervously and shrink in your coat. “You heard all of that, right?”

“Yep.” Osamu grins. He grins. He’s grinning. He’s smiling like he’s won the fucking lottery and you honestly don’t know what to do with that information.

“So, like,” you look down at the sidewalk and kick at a pebble, “what are your thoughts about that?” God, you could die. “‘Cause I know you’re a TA and it’d probably look pretty bad and I don’t want anything bad to happen to you because I like you and it’s cool if we just…”

Osamu interrupts you with a laugh. “My thoughts,” he says, “are that I want to kiss you.” His fingers lift your chin up. “What are your thoughts about that?”

Well, shit. “I think that’s pretty cool, yeah,” you breathe, eyelids fluttering shut as his face comes closer to yours.

He tastes like mint. And his lips move softly, slowly against yours like he’s savouring the moment. And then you feel his hands snake around your waist to pull you closer–– closer because you both are tired of forcing the distance between bodies that want to be near each other, closer because he’s thought about kissing you just like this for so long, closer because you remember the last time he’d touched you was three days ago and it was just a brush of his fingers against your arm and that feeling of wanting more haunted you for the entire night. But holy shit, Miya Osamu is kissing you. He’s kissing you.

And then he pulls away. His dark eyes flit over yours. “I,” he breathes, “I need your course load next semester.”

“What?” you ask, disbelief written all over your features, chest rising and falling as you try to steady your breathing. You just kissed, for God's sake, and he's––

“I need to know which courses not to apply to TA for,” he grins, cupping your face in his hands. “Can’t be teachin’ in a class with my girlfriend as a student.”

“So we’re official?” you ask, beaming.

“If you want,” Osamu replies with a smirk.

You grab the front of his coat and tug him down for another kiss. “Hell yeah, I want to be official.”

#miya osamu #miya osamu x reader #miya osamu scenarios #miya osamu imagines

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cloudteawrites · 4 years ago

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chapter: five ( 4.7k ) rating: mature (death, past abuse, eventual smut) genre: mystery | romance | hurt/comfort tags: bts x reader | ot7 x reader | hybrid | poly summary: when an estranged uncle leaves you his massive fortune you wonder if the universe is playing a joke on you. when that fortune comes with seven hybrids, you know for sure that it is. << first < previous | next > last >>

The grocery store was a mess of color and light. You swore you’d never seen so much food in one place.

Back when your mom had been alive, you’d never really gone to traditional grocery stores. You’d always just visited markets where your mom knew the vendors and could talk down their prices on ugly produce and day old bread. After she’d died, you’d eaten whatever the staff in the group home had provided, then whatever you could scrounge up from convenience stores. Most of the time since you’d aged out of social services, you survived off the free rice and kimchi available in your goshiwon.

Occasionally, you’d eat at work with your free staff meal, but you tried to avoid it. You knew the sight of you wolfing down ramyeon and cold kimbap as fast as you could made Jiah worry. If she ever saw you looking too haggard, she’d try to slip some home made meals to the front desk of your goshiwon when you weren’t looking and that was as embarrassing as it was helpful.

For as long as you could remember, the question of where your next meal was coming from had hung over your head like a dark cloud. It didn’t seem like that was going to be a problem any longer.

Aisle after aisle stretched out before you, blindingly bright. It looked like an amusement park. You were finding it hard to stop staring. You reached out in a haze and picked up the juiciest apple you’d ever seen. Sure, you sold them all the time at Quickstop, but they’d always been dull and just the slightest bit bruised. This one was perfect: fire engine red and still wet from the mister. It was cold and heavy in your hands. You almost felt like crying.

“You good?” Yoongi is beside you, leaning over on the shopping cart, his chin in his hand. He looks dreadfully bored.

“Yeah,” you tell him, setting the apple gently back in its place. “Yeah; just got distracted for a second.” You give a single tug on the front of the basket to move him along, and he follows, shuffling against the bright white linoleum.

“Why aren’t you getting that?” He calls, just before you can round the corner into the dry goods aisle. You turn and look at him over your shoulder, confusion slightly furrowing your brow. “Don’t you want it?”

Your eyes flick from his face back to the glittering heap of fruit. You gnaw at your lip. “...They’re 6,000 won a kilo.”

Yoongi purses his lips. “That’s not what I asked you.”

“I don’t need them,” you huff, trying to stave off the beginnings of another argument. “There’s more important things...like you three and getting you clothes and better furniture and-” Before you get the chance to finish, the gray haired man has ducked back around the corner. He returns with two three kilo bags of apples and dumps them unceremoniously into the cart.

He looks up at you, brows raised and his eyes daring you to say something. All you do is sigh. “Yoongi-”

“Jimin likes apples.” He says, before you can get a word in edgewise. “They’re for him.” You can’t argue with that. He pushes the basket forward and you two drift down the next aisle.

There’s a question resting on the tip of your tongue and as you compare brands of rice, you spit it out. “So...what do you guys eat? I read an article that said to mainly feed cat hybrids fish, but...”

“But we’re not house cats.” He finishes, flipping over a box of cereal to read the back. His nose wrinkles at something he finds and he slides it back onto the shelf. It’s cute, you think- or would be if you couldn’t see the tips of his razor sharp incisors poking out when his lip curled up. Yoongi senses your gaze and looks over at you. You look away quickly and make yourself busy reading a label. “We can eat pretty much anything you’d eat. Not too much processed shit or we’ll get sick. Whole foods are better.”

You nod, making a mental note to forego sodas and chips. “And when you’re shifted?”

He shakes his head. “We don’t really eat when we’re shifted down unless we plan on staying there for a long time.”

You choose a 10 kilo bag of rice, tug it out from the shelf with a little grunt and plop it onto the basket’s bottom shelf. That was good, you supposed. You were worried you were gonna have to watch three big cats rip into raw meat whenever it caught their fancy. “Why don’t I push the basket and you can pick out things Taehyung and Jimin would want?”

He nods and shifts to the other side of the aisle. “What’s my limit?”

You pause for a moment, then stand and fix him with a strange look. “What do you mean?” He isn’t looking at you. He’s comparing two brands of cereal, scanning the nutritional facts on the back.

“How much am I allowed to spend on food?” he questions, simply. “-and what foods are we allowed to eat?”

You balked at him. “.. .you want me to control your diet?”

“I don’t want you to, but most owners prefer a certain look.” He turns his flat, yellow-grey eyes on you. “So what is it? No carbs? no sugars? Low fat? No fat? Dairy-free-”

“Oh my God, no!” You yelp before he can list any more diets. You’d said it a little louder than you’d intended and a well-dressed mom at the other end of the aisle fixes you two with an odd look before hustling her twins into another part of the store. You wince, but continue in a quieter but no less urgent voice. “I mean, I’m not gonna tell you what you can and can’t eat that’s…”

“It’s not unusual,” Yoongi cuts in before you can give voice to your thoughts. He sets one of the cereal boxes, decorated with bright colors and little cartoon animals, back on the shelf and tosses the other -something in a dull green and white box with a little piece of wheat on the front- into the cart. “You didn’t feed us last night.”

A pang of guilt shoots through you. You curl your fingers around the bar of the cart, stare at your knuckles. “I’m sorry,” you tell him, with all the sincerity in the world. “I was tired -and I know that’s not an excuse- but I fell asleep without thinking of you guys. It won’t happen again.”

“Relax,” Yoongi drawls.”It’s not the first time we’ve gone hungry; I’m sure it won’t be the last.” He starts drifting toward the end of the aisle, but before he can go, you catch him by the sleeve of his sweatshirt.

There’s barely an inch of fabric between your thumb and forefinger, but the look Yoongi gives you makes it look like you’d yanked him back by the collar. He whirls on you, eyes narrowed and lips twisted into something sour. You’d overstepped by grabbing him. Still, you speak. “That was the last time. I mean it.”

The hybrid’s face shifts from irritation into something unrecognizable. He’s looking at you like there’s an equation written behind your eyes that he’s trying to work out with his own, like if he looks deep enough into them he’ll find the answers etched across your sclera. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up as the seconds drag on, but you don’t look away. Instead, you hold his gaze and let the moment swell under almost unbearable tension.

Yoongi gives first. He tugs his sleeve out of your grip and shuffles back out of reach. “Whatever you say,” he scoffs, stalking off into the next aisle, his ears tilted back and tail tip flicking in irritation.

You sigh. You’d done it again. The urge to catch him again wells up in you, but you tamp it down. ‘Time and space,’ you remind yourself. ‘Give him time and give him space.’ Satisfied once the distance between the two of you is enough, you go to follow after him, but hesitate as you pass the cereal he’d been looking at. You tug it off the shelf and place it in the basket underneath a few other things so it’d be hidden. You don’t know why and if he asked you about it later you were sure you’d draw a blank. If nothing else, you told yourself as you hurried to catch up with your hybrid, he’d have a choice.

The rest of the grocery trip passed in silence, just as it’d begun. Yoongi didn’t so much as look at you, but that was fine. You were focused on watching him. Anything that he gave more than a passing glance went into the basket. If the bobcat hybrid noticed your rapidly increasing haul, he didn’t say anything about it. He was silent. Even when you flinched as the cashier announced the total and you waffled between trying to walk home or calling a taxi. Even in the lobby then the elevator on the way up as Mr. Park talked both of your ears off and you had to stop him from carrying your groceries in and stocking the fridge himself, Yoongi had remained eerily quiet. It’d given you time to think.

You didn’t know much about hybrids. If you were honest with yourself, you hadn’t known anything about them prior to what you’d anxiety-googled yesterday afternoon. You were so far out of your depth, it was miracle you hadn’t drowned yet. Still, you weren’t completely oblivious.

In between Yoongi’s open hostility, Jimin’s blase attitude toward his own objectification and what snippets you’d heard about Taehyung’s early life, you knew something must’ve been very, very wrong with the people who’d had them before they’d been foisted upon you. The expectation that you were supposed to treat hybrids like actual pets made you uncomfortable enough without the assumption that you’d be dressing them up like dolls and locking the snack cabinets at night.

A spike of anger shot through you. They might’ve been different than humans but they were still people. They hadn’t deserved whatever shady things their owners had done to them and you didn’t want them to come to expect them from you. You shift the grocery bags up your arm, freeing up a hand so you can punch the code into the door. There was no way around it. The four of you would need to sit down and have a good long talk.

The second you punch the code into your door it swings open. “Hey, Jim-” the greeting dies on your tongue. It’s not Jimin who meets you at the door, but Taehyung, freshly showered, the curly ends of his hair dripping water onto the white tile and the front of his sweatshirt damp. His eyes were still hidden behind his hair but you could see more of him than you’d been able to that morning when he’d shifted.

Well, not more of him. He was wearing clothes now, for one- a dark brown version of the sweat suit Yoongi and Jimin both wore. He was taller than you, which you’d known when he’d wrapped his arms around you, but looking up at him now you have to tilt your head back a bit. “Oh,” you say, a little dazed. “Wow.”

The corners of his mouth quirk up in a smile. “Hi.” His voice is still as deep as it was this morning. Was it always like that? He turns his attention to the hybrid behind you and his lips part in a blindingly bright boxy grin. “Hi, hyung.”

Yoongi hums a hello and slips past you through the door. His shoulder brushes against Taehyung’s and the younger hybrid chuffs happily a little in his throat. He leans down as the older man passes and bumps their foreheads together affectionately. Their tails twine together briefly before the gray-haired hybrid is out of reach and dropping an armful of groceries off in the kitchen.

“You shifted up,” you remark “Did something happen?” There’s a tick of concern in his voice. You step to the side of the doorway so the pair can talk without you in the middle.

Taehyung shakes his head, water droplets scattering. His hyung let out a hiss that erred just on the wrong side of animalistic as some of them hit him. You freeze, but the tiger hybrid just laughs. “No, Jimin and I were just-” His smile falters. You can’t see his eyes but his ears have twitched downward and his tail is suddenly stiff, only the tip ticking back and forth. The hybrid lowers his head, and you finally catch sight of eyes, gleaming amber and full of fear. Behind him, you see Yoongi catch a whiff of his junior’s souring scent and his head whips toward the pair of you, ears straight up and his whole body on high alert.

Worry draws your brows together. “Taehyung?” you call softly. You reach out with your free hand to touch his shoulder, then think better of it. Your fingers hover uselessly and inch away from him. In this moment, that distance feels a mile wide. The line of his shoulders is rigid and he’s withdrawn into himself. “Taehyung, it’s okay. You don’t have to tell me if you-”

“We went out.” He blurts, snapping his head up to look in your eyes. His own are wide and earnest. “You left your backpack open and I saw the list you made with all the phone numbers and passwords and the door code was on there and I really wanted to go to the park. Jimin told me to wait but I made him come with me; we were only gone for fifteen minutes, I swear. We didn’t even make it; the same police officer from earlier was still on the street.”

“Taehyung-”

“Please-” he cuts you off before you can even get a word in edgewise. “Please, just punish me; Jimin didn’t do anything. The whole time he was trying to make me go back. He only went with me so I wouldn’t be alone.”

Your heart wrenches in your chest. You do touch him, then. Your fingertips barely graze the material of his sweatshirt, but he flinches and you pull away. Your hand drops to your side, limp. “Can you and Jimin meet me in the living room?” You ask him, careful to keep your tone light and non-threatening as possible. “We need to talk.” His ears droop, but he nods and shuffles off to do as you ask. You trail behind him into the penthouse, making sure to give him enough space. The last thing you wanted to do right now was crowd him.

You drop the groceries on the counter in the kitchen and look up to find Yoongi squinting at you. He’s coiled up like a spring, ready to bolt at any moment. You try to give him a reassuring smile, but it comes out watery and wan. “It’s okay,” you tell him. “We’re just gonna talk.” You can tell he doesn’t believe you.

Still, he follows you into the living room, takes a seat on the couch while you settle cross-legged on the ottoman across from him. A few seconds later, Jimin and Taehyung slink down the stairs. The tiger hybrid is clinging to his hyung who, for once, isn't smiling. Jimin’s face is settled into a cool mask of neutrality. You almost don’t recognize him.

They sink into the couch on either side of Yoongi, their backs stiff and eyes on anything other than you. For a moment, the four of you sit there in uncomfortable silence. You speak first.

“Jimin, Taehyung, Yoongi-”

“Y/N,” Jimin cuts in, “Whatever Taehyung told you-”

“-I’m sorry.” You finish. That seems to surprise them. You interlock your fingers on your lap and look at each one of them individually. “I’m sorry that I didn’t check to see if there was food in the house last night. I’m sorry that I didn’t make sure you had the things you needed to feel comfortable here. I’m sorry that I made you feel like you weren’t allowed to leave.”

Taehyung swallows, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. He’s got a death grip on Yoongi’s arm with one hand and the other fisted in the fabric of his sweatpants. “You...You’re not mad?” The tremor in his voice makes your heart ache.

“No,” you tell him with all the sincerity in the world. “I’m not mad at you. I’m sad that you were ever around someone who made you feel like you needed to apologize for wanting to see the sun and I’m angry that they made you think that was something to be punished for.” It was true. Beneath your sadness, beneath your shock at his expectation of punishment, anger was twisting in your gut. What type of person would reduce another to fear and trembling for the sake of leaving the house? “I’m not going to...to punish you, I need you to know that.” You tell him, before looking at Jimin and Yoongi. “Any of you. Ever. I’m never gonna hurt you.”

Taehyung’s jaw is clenched like he’s trying not to cry. All the wind has gone out of Jimin like a deflated sail and the leopard hybrid just looks exhausted. Yoongi’s rubbing soothing circles in both of their backs. You can’t tell from his face, but by the way his ears have relaxed, you think he was worried about your reaction, too.

You let out a little exhale and slouch. “Whatever happened to you with your previous...the people you lived with before? It wasn’t okay.” You’re as firm with it as you can be while still keeping your tone gentle. “They were supposed to take care of you and love you and help you grow, but if they starved you, if they made you feel this bad, if they treated you like property, then fuck them. I don’t want to be anything like them.” You admit. “I don’t want to be your owner and I don’t want you to be my pets.”

“What do you want us to be to you then?” Yoongi rasps. Despite the question, there’s no challenge in his voice. He’s genuinely asking.

One corner of your mouth quirks up and you give him a small shrug. “Friends, maybe? Eventually, if we can. For now let’s try…” you search for the word you want. “Roommates?” You supply. “We live together, but you guys don’t need to feel like you owe me anything. I’ll get you phones tomorrow, if you want, and copies of the credit card. We can get you clothes and furniture too. And if there’s anything you want to do or want to see, go see it. The door code is 0613.”

The tension that’d run between the three hybrids like a livewire is gone. Now they’re...if not relaxed, then at least relieved. There’s nothing else to be said. You stand and move to hurry into the kitchen so the trio of hybrids can have their space. The last thing you wanted to do after having a talk about their freedoms was crowd them. Before you can take three steps there’s a hand wrapped around your wrist, holding you in place. It's Taehyung's.

The tiger hybrid is looking up at you, his eyes beseeching and a nervous tremble in his bottom lip. “Don’t go,” he croaks, sounding like he’s still unsure just how to use his voice. He tugs once on your coat sleeve. “Please.”

Your eyes flick from him to his hyungs. Jimin’s looking at you with apprehension, perched on the edge of the couch like he’s a split second away from helping the tiger hybrid drag you down- but Yoongi’s face is turned away from you. As usual, you can’t tell what he’s feeling. “I’m just going to the kitchen,” you assure him. “I’ve gotta put the food away-” Your brain short circuits as the tiger hybrid flips your hand over and presses his face to your palm. His eyelashes brush against your lifeline; his lips trace the veins in your wrist.

You’d never say it outloud, but it was hard to deny you were touch starved. You could count on one hand the amount of times someone had touched you gently since your mother died. You didn’t show yourself kindness most days and you’d come not to expect it from others. The world was cold and cruel, and you were far too old to be seeking solace from strangers. You’d thought you were above it, but the feeling of Taehyung nipping at your radial artery is almost enough to make you go to pieces. “Just a little bit,” he huffs, his voice muffled against your skin.

“...The groceries will get warm,” you argue, finally managing to make your mouth move. “Do you wanna eat hot kimchi?”

“I’ll put them away.” Yoongi is up and vaulting over the couch before you can get a word in edgewise. With him gone the last of your excuses goes up in smoke. Taehyung smiles against your skin and you let yourself be pulled down.

No sooner have your legs touched the cushion, then Taehyung is snuggled up against your side, his arms wrapped loosely around your middle and the cool tip of his nose pressed into your neck. “Tell me again,” he murmurs softly. “Can you tell me again that you’re not mad?” He wanted reassurance. The least you could do was give it to him.

You slip a hand into his hair, scratch gently at the base of his ears. He chuffs happily, the sound vibrating in his chest as he presses closer to you. “I’m not mad at you, and you’re not in trouble, buddy.” You tell him. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

A warm presence on your left tells you Jimin’s settled in beside you. Sure enough, a second later a golden tail is tracing the edge of your calf. “Don’t leave me out,” he purrs, settling his chin on your shoulder.

You slide a hand into his hair too, letting the locks slip through your fingers as you pet him. “Never.”

The three of you stay like that for what feels like an hour. Even when their hyung finishes putting the groceries away and returns to sit with them -albeit at the far end of the sectional- they don’t seem like they’re in a hurry to disentangle themselves from you. You’re surprised to find you don’t mind it. The weight of two grown men against your shoulders was heavy, but not uncomfortable and they were warm and the steady hum of Jimin purring is almost enough to lull you to sleep. You cut a movie on and order samgyeopsal. You think they’re gonna kill the delivery man for making you get up, and they stay glued to your back even as you pay. It’s not until the first movie goes off and Taehyung and Jimin are playfully bickering over what to watch next that you’re able to slip away to the bathroom.

You shuffle quickly down the wide hallway, trying to remember which door the closest bathroom lay behind. You careen around a corner and run smack into someone. They let out a huff and you stumble back a few steps, an apology on your lips. You look up and find Yokngi there. Guilt bubbles up in your stomach. Between Jimin purring in your ear and Taehyung rubbing his cheek against your hand every ten seconds, you hadn’t even noticed he was gone. “Sorry,” you mumble.

He quirks an eyebrow at you. “For what?”

You’re not even sure you know.

He stares at you and you stare back, frozen. Finally, the bobcat hybrid sighs and gestures at you. “C’mere,” he mumbles.

You approach hesitantly, not trusting him to not suddenly snap at you. “Why?” You ask, apprehensive. Should you have not let Taehyung and Jimin scent you? He’d been around the entire time and hadn’t said anything, so you’d thought it was fine. Maybe you’d made a mistake. You gnaw at your bottom lip and creep slowly closer to the hybrid before you. Another miscalculation, another mess-up, another mile tacked on to that incalculable distance between you and Yoongi. Should you apologize again? Would taking a shower help wash their scents away?

Before you can volunteer to do any of that, Yoongi reaches forward, hooks one finger through your belt loop and drags you toward him. You feel a yelp crawling up your throat, but it’s stopped dead in its tracks by the feeling of Yoongi cradling your jaw and his lips pressed against the column of your throat. His spine is tense and his tail is ticking in the way it does when he’s irritated. “...What are you-?”

“They’ve both scented you.” He murmurs. “If I don’t, they’ll think I’m rejecting you. My job as their hyung is to put them at ease. If I can’t do that, I’m useless.” Despite his closeness, despite the way his fingers were slipping into the hair at the base of your skull, despite the little nips he’d started giving you, you could practically feel his reluctance.

You exhale and push against his shoulders. “Yoongi…” He doesn’t budge. “Hey-”

“There’s no good reason for me to not just mark you and get it over with.” There was that word again. You’d forgotten about it in the whirlwind that followed, but Jimin had joked about marking you earlier, hadn’t he? And Yoongi’d gotten upset with him. From what you were gathering, it was a lot more serious than scenting.

“I don’t want you to.” That gets his attention. The hybrid pulls away and fixes you with an odd look, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“What are you talking about? Owners always want us to mark them.” You feel that same twinge of anger again. The articles had said scenting was a sign of trust and security. It was used to mark family members. Had the people they’d been with before forced their way into their family without the hybrids consent? Without Yoongi’s? No wonder he’d been touchy about his juniors scenting you right away.

“Well, I don’t.” You give him a gentle nudge and put a few inches between the two of you. “I don’t want you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with or not ready for.” You offer him a smile you hope comes across as reassuring. “You not wanting to is a good enough reason for me. Besides,” you say, turning to head back to the living room, the original reason for your trip forgotten. “I’ve never been marked before, so it’s not like i’m missing out on anything.”

At that, something flashes in Yoongi’s eyes that you have no name for. It passes as soon as it’d come. “Come back when you’re ready!” You call over your shoulder, retreating back down the corridor before he can say something one way or another.

When you settle back on to the couch two minutes later, There’s a movie queued up and ready to be played. It’s an action movie, one you haven’t seen before. “Yoongi’ll be back in a second,” you tell the boys. “Let’s wait for him.”

Taehyung hums his ascent, leaning in to settle back in the crook of your neck- but something stops him. He hovers near your neck, takes a few short inhales and tosses a look at Jimin behind your back. You frown. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah!” Taehyung responds a bit too quickly, lacing your fingers together to distract you as Jimin gives the other side of your neck the same treatment. The leopard hybrid purrs, seemingly happy at what he’s found. His ears swivel up and a second later, Yoongi slinks back into the living room.

“Hyung…” Jimin starts, his voice taking on a teasing lilt.

“Play the movie.” His hyung orders. He does, but there’s still a little smirk on his lips.

The screen darkens and the opening credits roll as Taehyung and Jimin settle back against your side, careful to avoid your neck. Yoongi drops onto the couch, this time only a foot away from the three of you. You allow yourself a little spark of relief. The distance was starting to close.

#bts fic #bts x reader #bts x y/n #hybrid!bts #ot7 x reader #seokjin x reader #namjoon x reader #jhope x reader #yoongi x reader #taehyung x reader #jimin x reader #jungkook x reader

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