#do not give my dumb ass credit

[irlwakko]

can you be robbed of something if it never actually existed. anyway we were robbed of villain zoey

[13reasonstoeatthatcake]

I really want to know how Lilith Sorrengail feels about trying her best to get her youngest daughter away from whatever it was that her dad supposedly found in the Archives after Brennan 'died', just to get said daughter even more involved with the tyrrish rebellion two: electric boogaloo.

[lonlonranching]

oh i feel mentally FOUL this morning

[bluebellthesponge]

my friend saw trolls 3 over break and we were talking about it over lunch and then *tried* to sing better place and we were soooo in sync (hahaha) jk we were just playfully singing it, but omg i was so excited when she said she saw it, now she can understand my trolls references/singing references/random ass memes, anyways we listened to mount rageous today also during lunch, and then somebody else saw it over break as well and said that nsync appearing at the end reminded them of me

[whatifitis]

♡ Cursing The Daylight - LN 4 ♡

Summary: Lando hates knowing you never sleep well so when he believes he's figured out why, he makes it his mission to save his sleepy girlfriend from sleep deprivation.

Author's note: A little blurb thing I wrote at 2 am. I tried my best 😭

WC: 1045

CW: Lando being a bit dumb and the sweetest person ever, fluff

You were currently cursing the daylight, watching as a blue bird flew past your window.

Fucker 

It was yet another sleepless night in your apartment. You continued to stare at your alarm clock, waiting for it to go off, a little reminder that if you were capable of sleeping properly, you’d still have 5 more minutes of sleep. 

For most of your life, especially in recent years, you’ve never been able to get a full night's rest. You’d always end up tossing and turning for hours, as well as waking up about 7 times a night. Every day you would feel irritated and restless due to your lack of sleep. 

However, whenever you slept over at your boyfriend's house, you always managed to get a good night's sleep. You and your boyfriend, Lando, have been together for about 5 months. The first night you two had spent together, was the first time you’d been able to sleep well. You woke up bright and early and you felt amazing, like nothing could stop you. 

Over the course of your relationship, Lando came to be aware of your inability to sleep well most nights. Whenever you would sleep in your own apartment, Lando would receive mass amounts of texts from you, all about how you slept terribly and that you either needed a nap or many coffees. 

Lando, being the ever so lovely person he is, picked up on something. The only times you would get a good night's sleep, waking up and not needing to complain about anything and everything, was when you slept at his place. 

The mattress! The boy thought, she sleeps better at mine cause my mattress is fucking mint. 

Upon realizing this, Lando goes and orders the same exact mattress he has, and has it sent to yours. He thought it’d be a nice surprise for you so that you can get a goodnight sleep every night. Another plus would be that you guys are coming up on your 6 month anniversary, this counts as a gift right?, thinks Lando. 

The day Lando gets an email stating that the mattress was out for delivery, he books it to your place, wanting to be there to see your reaction to his gift and so that he could help you bring it in and set it up. 

Lando arrives at your apartment, greeted by you with a massive smile and sparkling eyes. He wastes no time in pulling you to him by your hips and wrapping his arms around your torso. As you wrap your arms around his neck you say, “As much as I love seeing you, what are you doing here? I thought we were going to meet up later tonight for movie night.”

As Lando pulls away to look at you, the postman has just arrived. “That’s why.” he says, smiling cheekily and pointing to the truck behind him. 

The both of you watch as the postman begins to unload the mattress from the vehicle, before Lando jumps in and helps the man drag the mattress to the door of your apartment. 

Whilst Lando and the man bring the mattress into your apartment, you stand there dumbfounded. 

What the actual fuck is going on? The only thing I’ve ordered to my apartment is a new book and I don’t think the book is that big? Wait, did I order the right thing?!

As soon as the box is in your living area, you confront Lando, “Lan, my love, my gorgeous boy… what the fuck?” you ask, pointing at the big ass box in your living area. 

Your Lan stands there next to the box, all but swaying as he stands and gives you the biggest smile he could plaster on his face. 

The cheeky fuck. 

“It’s a mattress!” he says as he poses next to it, adding a pose for effect. 

“A mattress?” you ask.

“A mattress.” 

After a moment of silence, where you contemplated whether to strangle him or take his credit card away from him, you ask “Why?”

“Cause, you’re always tired and you never sleep well unless you’re at my place. So I figured out why! It’s because you find my mattress to feel so much better and comfier. I even ordered the same bed sheets I have, but I got yours in green since it’s your favorite color. They should be here tomorrow though so for tonight you can spend the night with me or we can use your old sheets.” he proposes, smiling so wide it makes your heart melt from the sweetness that you don’t deserve. 

He gets you the same mattress he has in his home, for your home. 

“I sleep better at yours because you’re there. Not because of the mattress, you muppet!” you exclaim. 

You watch as Lando’s face immediately drops, “what?” he asks. He’s truly been stunned with this information, “What’d you mean it’s not because of the mattress? You mean to tell me I haven’t helped solve your sleeping issues?! I thought I was smarter than all the doctors you’ve seen for this issue!”

You can’t help but laugh at your boyfriend's statement. 

“Gorgeous, you thought that of all the doctors I’ve seen… that none of them have thought that I was sleeping on an uncomfortable mattress?” 

Lando just stood there silent, blankly staring at a wall, likely contemplating all his life choices. 

“Fuck. So, do you not want the mattress? Seems like a hassle to return.” he states as he scratches the back of his neck, wondering how he’s going to return the heavy ass box. “Wait, you sleep better when you’re around me?” he looks at you, somewhat shocked. 

You walk up to him, taking his hands in yours and making him look you in the eyes, “Gorgeous, in the time we’ve been together, we’ve slept on couches and several different mattresses. And I always sleep well no matter where or what we are sleeping on. I sleep better because I’m with you, I feel safe with you.”

“Oh… oh!” he giggles a bit. Red starts to lightly color his face, he’s blushing, “That’s nice.”

You don’t think you’ve met anyone more awkward than this man, but you love him because of that, not in spite of it. 

[cupcakeinat0r]

Thinkin abt Dad Bod!Miguel…

Ft. Daddy, Praise, n Size kink!!! (Duh.)

[NSFW]

You leave the classroom after enduring the most stupid 3 hour 8am lecture that you needed for a stupid credit for the stupid degree that you cried and prayed for.

Your spirit is immediately lifted once you see your boyfie waiting outside of the building for you, the six-foot-nine man leaning against his car like a total poser. His burly arms are crossed, which makes his pecs bulge through his shirt even more. In your opinion, he fills out his button-up perfectly; the short sleeves barely able to contain his biceps, the hairs of his chest peeking out the first three open buttons… and his soft belly. Perfect for naps. You couldn’t see it from here, but you just knew his ass was lookin good in those jeans, too. You crash into his arms, kisses planted on your head. “Missed you today, mamita.” He mumbles into your hair. “Missed you more, baby. Now, please, take me home.”

You step in the house and face plant onto the couch. You could’ve fallen asleep right there, but you feel a breath on your ear, “Mamita, aye…”, you lift your head with a “hm?” toward the gentle voice, “Mama, ven a la cama… será mejor que’l sofá, beba… ven, ven…” you let out a small ‘Mph’ when you’re peeled off the couch. Miguel scoops you up bridle style, as if you were a feather, and takes you to the bedroom.

Once you sluggishly remove your clothes, down to your panties and tank top, you, again, face plant into what feels like heaven (your bed). Miguel goes to change so that he’s just wearing his boxers. He stops in front of the full-body mirror, looking at himself. His muscles are still there, but he isn’t too happy with what he sees, having gained some weight since being with you, but more importantly, he wonders if you think the same. Even a little bit.

You smile to yourself as you feel the stomach of your lover pressed against your back, wrapping you with his strong, hairy arms and entangling his thick legs with yours, cocooning you in a bundle of warmth. “Comfy, mamita?” He presses a tender kiss on your temple. You sleepily nod your head against the pillow, blissful in your position as little spoon. There’s a moment of peaceful silence as his calloused hand starts to affectionately rub your back under the tank top.

The thought still eats at him, though.

“Bebe…”

“hm?”

“Esta feliz conmigo?”

“What?” Your head snaps up toward him. There’s genuine concern in your voice.

“I love you, that’s no question, but if you want to have your college fun, you should be able to. I don't want you to miss out on experiences because of… me. ” You sit up now, looking at him with furrowed brows, “What’re you talking about?” He looks down at the bare skin of your thigh, a deep, discouraged sigh escaping his lips as his pointer finger caresses the skin there, “I just want you to be happy. More than anything.”

In one swift motion, you straddle him. “Missing what? Those dumb frat parties filled with little boys who wouldn’t know how to handle me? You’re so silly, baby.” You press a tongue-filled kiss on his lips, and a low growl erupts in his throat. “Ugh, I’d miss out on a million parties if it meant having all this.” You murmur against his lips before starting a trail of kisses down his torso, even with an occasional nibble, the warmth and hair of his skin meeting your lips the whole way down. You worshipped every inch of his thick body with your lips, all the way from his broad and hairy chest, his stretch marks, to his chubby midriff, down his mouth-watering happy trail, and finally to the hem of his boxers, where a bulge began to form.

You look up and give him a sultry look, “No college boy could ever compare to my fine ass hubby." His voice becomes strained, breath labored as you take your index finger and rub precise circles on his wet tip through his boxers, making him hiss. “fuck, mami… what did I do to deserve you? Eres una Bendicion, tu sabes?”, he caresses your cheek with his thumb, “Scored a fucking goddess… I’m so fuckin’ lucky. No sé cómo conseguí una mujer como tú..” he coos.

"And you’re so big n’ strong n’ handsome, Daddy. I love it.” Your voice combined with your touch made his dick twitch, his now angry tip slightly peeking out. You fail to fight back a small moan when you release his pretty cock from the confines of his boxers, it springing against his lower belly. Drool began to form in your mouth. You haven’t even tasted it and you were already cock drunk. “love this cock s’much…so perfect.” you mewl as you slowly begin pumping his cock. Miguel pathetically looks down at you; The prettiest girl in the world showing him the attention he doesn’t feel worthy of but oh so deserves. “Awe, You want daddy’s cock, don’t you, baby?” He tuts, his voice all sweet and pouty.

“Mhm,” you nod, a meek expression on your face.

“Let me show my man just how happy I am to be his.”

And any self-doubt that Miguel had about you being with him was poof! Gone.

*sighs* He sew cewt. Hope u liked it <3

Want more DadBod!Miguel ? Here’s my master list, bae!!

[aethelwyneleigh27]

Baby fever Scenarios and Headcanons with Husband!Simon "Ghost" Riley (Ghostie)

Thank my baby godson for this one, if it hadn't been for him having me take care of him for the whole day then I wouldn't have anything to write because as of now I have no motivation or ideas to continue my past wips. Render credits are all to the lovely @ave661 who keeps feeding us. My little godson still sleeping on my chest, drool, snore and all as I'm writing this. I can't move, please send help. This is so short too, sorry to disappoint you guys 😭

Y'all CANNOT tell me I'm the only one who thinks of Simon "Ghost" Riley having baby fever from his own children (I would give him more, all he needs to do is ask 😭). Also these are basically moments of Simon with Ghostie, just a bit more general in terms of the baby's gender since some of y'all want boy!dad Simon but originally Ghostie is a girl.

My CoD Masterlist

Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simping4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @shadofireshinobi @thesnowurzikdjinn @09maruchan @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @ghosts-cyphera @cutenote @connorsui @capuccino192 @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @trepaika @starryylies @everlastingmoonlightsworld

❥ Babyfever!Dad!Simon who loves to toss the baby up in the air, simply just for amusement and both of them needed entertainment. Safe to say Soap never did that until the little one was a lot older because when he did it, he ended up with a glob of drool on his face.

❥ Babyfever!Dad!Simon who is always so vocal with his baby, you could just tell the influence of him talking to the baby. Just the rumble of his voice sends the tiny one into a fit of giggles while they're on his chest.

❥ Babyfever!Dad!Simon who was influenced by you to do that viral thing on the internet, people throwing a slice of cheese on their crying baby to make them stop. It worked and they ate it.. now he keeps the fridge stocked with sliced cheese for that reason.

❥ Babyfever!Husband!Simon who was determined to assemble everything, baby's crib, the car seat.. though the bottle sterilizer was something he needed your help with. Both of you trying to figure where the missing piece went only to find your little one chewing on it.

❥ Babyfever!Dad!Simon who comes home late at night yet his little one follows him like a mother duck, as much as he wants to, Simon refused to have contact until he's out and squeaky clean from a shower. Always worrying about how they might catch something from outside while the little one is directly outside the bathroom door waiting for their dad and peeking from the little space underneath the door, knocking every 3 minutes for dada to come out.

❥ Babyfever!Dad!Simon who has the time of his life teaching the baby CPR, it started as a joke between the 141 and now your baby knows the word and knows what to do in response to it, the bunny stuffie is the one receiving the medical attention with the little crisp giggle after Simon praises them.

❥ Babyfever!Dad!Simon who you find laughing his ass off at Soap who was forced by the puppy eyes of your little one to wear a pink tutu that was on the verge of breaking from his size, glittered fairy wings that were made of wire and horrid quality of pink mesh fabric, a plastic tiara and a light up fairy wand. They forced him to do ballet. (Gaz definitely had that as his phone's wallpaper for a month)

❥ Babyfever!Dad!Simon who love cherishing little moments of how the world reminds him of how naive, dumb and gullible his little one could be. Having a leash kid yet for a completely different reason from misbehaving and being too hyperactive. Walking on a bridge with him over a river as a little family outing at the park when your little one pointed at the aggressive stream of water underneath, Simon jokingly asking them if they want to be tossed in and without a word they turn to you with their arms up and wiggling for uppies. When that didn't work they turned to their dad doing the same thing, making Simon chuckle so much that he almost coughed as they slowly let their arms drape back down to their sides, little pout in disappointment. You playfully glared at your husband, having to explain to a toddler why they can't swim in a strong stream of dirty water.

❥ Babyfever!Dad!Simon who is very much amused about how the baby likes his stuble, hoping he won't cause a rash to them because of how much they press their face into his. He makes sure it's extremely well kept after the very first time it happened 😭.

❥ Babyfever!Dad!Simon who loves seeing his toddler in their sleep shirt which is basically just his shirt drooping on the floor because it's too big for them but the they're chunky enough to keep it on themselves. Just thinking of Simon hearing the loud stomps of footsteps approving their bedroom, the short pause of silence before the frantic sound of the door knob jingling, he always knew who was about to enter the room. Holding their bunny stuffie while pulling on the blanket of their dad's side of the bed to ask him for help to climb up.

[bvidzsoo]

Popular boys? Overrated ♡ (masterlist)

Urban Dictionary:

♡ Popular boy: Annoying assholes who think making fun of other people makes them cool. ♡ Overrated: When something or someone becomes too popular than others, and is given more credits than it deserves to be.

♡ Synposis: University? Stressful. Assignments? Too many. Social life? Above par. Boys? Disgusting. Popular boys? A total and complete headache. Sex? Optional. Sleep? Not so optional. But really...what are you supposed to do when you've got a hot guy up your ass begging for your attention? Nothing much but give in to him.

↳ Follow the two separate stories of our protagonists as they maneuver their lives at University while trying to avoid the two nefarious popular boys, Seonghwa and Yunho.

♡ Author: bvidzsoo

♡ Pairing: Park Seonghwa x female reader; Jeong Yunho x female reader

♡ Rating: nc-17

♡ Genre: 90's rom-com; University!au; Popular guy!au; Sports!au

♡ Status: on-going

🎧Playlist🎧

♡ Park Seonghwa ♡

📝Sugar on my lips: ˗ˏˋ First assignment ★ Second assignment ★ Third assignment ˎˊ˗

Summary: Besides looking pretty and acting dumb, popular boys were good for nothing else. Park Seonghwa, who you've known for over a year now, wasn't an exception. Obnoxious, eccentric, and a peacock, he seems to have an affinity of getting on your nerves. But when coincidentally you get paired up for an assignment, you happen to discover a different side of him. Is it possible you have misjudged him?

✫☼☾☁ ❝𝐑𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫, 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐚 𝐛𝐨𝐲…𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠.❞ ☁☾☼✫

♡ Visual Board ♡

♡ Jeong Yunho ♡

🎭Under the pretense: ˗ˏˋ First act ★ Second act ★ Third act ˎˊ˗

Summary: What was supposed to be the best time of your life turned into something more bizarre and only slightly fun. Don't get me wrong, having to share your theater class out of the blue with popular guy Jeong Yunho, to most, didn't sound like the worst idea, but to you...yeah, you would've been more grateful if the principal found other methods of punishment for her son's misbehavior.

꧁༺ ❝𝔜𝔬𝔲 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔟𝔢𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔠𝔥𝔢𝔡 𝔪𝔢, 𝔟𝔬𝔡𝔶 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔰𝔬𝔲𝔩, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 ℑ 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢, ℑ 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢, ℑ 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲.❞ ༻꧂

♡ Visual Board ♡

A/N: Weeell, hellooo, surprise?? Total random idea with the most random plots, but here I stand before you, presenting two separate stories which happen in the same universe. They can most certainly be read as standalones, but fyi I will post them by jumping from Seonghwa's story to Yunho's and then back and forth. I most certainly will not start their stories until I'm done with my Mingi rockstar series, which will take a few more weeks, sorry for making you wait but...priorities. As you can see, I have a playlist that I will be updating with songs that remind me of our girlies, our main characters, as they will be girlbossing in their respective stories lol. I hope I'll be able to pull off the 90's romcom vibes, don't be too hard on me if I fail lol <3

Taglist is open and you can leave a comment on this post, please specify if you're interested in both Seonghwa and Yunho's stories, or if in only one of them! Kisses and I hope I have piqued your interest! <3 divider

↳Perm. taglist: @orshii @jjoongstar @tinyelfperson @thestarskiller @zuuhaa

@aaa-sia @gong-fourz @a-tinycarat @sooberryworld @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad

@anastasiamin860 @yunhogrippers @vcutparis @tunaasan @blvckarabixnvoid

@yusalterego @arigakittyo @slowee00 @jaerisdiction @hey-syia

@vnessalau @oddracha @chatsgotmytongue @potatos-on-clouds @yunhowooyo

@watermelon2319 @yoongzsmile28 @klllerwaifu @apriecotte @hwasbbyg

@kyeos4ng @samiiy20 @woosanhobros @aswho1estuff @khjoongie98

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@tunafishyfishylike @syubseokie

❀ complete the forms if you're interested! ^^

[luvyeni]

( reaction ) yandere enha when they find you ! ୨୧ 一 엔하이픈 ՞

⸃ ⸰ ⌁ enhypen finding you after you run away ヾ

yandere!엔하이픈 hyungline・ fem!reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ horror ‎, angst ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ cw ・ ‎stalking , kidnapping , threats wc ・ ‎n/a ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎| ‎ ‎click to library

request. another request my dumb ass deleted ◉��‿⁠◉ ...

「 ୨୧ authors note 」 i hope you like it <3

﹙ 𐙚 : heeseung﹚ .ᐟ

he knew were you were the entire time; i've said this many of times , heeseung is crazy and he loves to play crazy mind games — games such as making a fake a dating account just to find you and match with you. he will literally wait it out , swipe through as many girls as he had to until he found you. you were excited to get back into dating , the guy you were talking to was completely different to heeseung , getting ready for your first date with him , everything felt like a breath of fresh air. at the restaurant you were looking down at your phone , not noticing the familiar sitting down with that crazy smile. “is that anyway to greet your date?” your eyes shot up. “hee-heeseung?” your voice shaking as you see him holding his phone — with the account of the guy on the screen. “did you really think you could run away from me?” he laughed , your eyes began to tear up.

“no don't cry baby, we'll still have a good night before i take you home and give you your welcome home gift.”

﹙ 𐙚 : jay﹚ .ᐟ

a serious inconvenience for him , he gives you everything and you dare leave him? okay that's fine , he'll let you have your fun , he won't even cancel the credit card he gave you , because that's exactly how he was gonna catch you. he waited until you order a purchase offline , and he was able to get the details to your new apartment a month later — normally he'd just send his guys to come get you ,but this time he wanted to be the one to drag you back home. “j-jay.” you saw the man in the suit standing in your door. “you try and run away from me , but you use the card i pay for to make your stupid little purchases. “jay please.” he doesn't want to hear it. “you've cause so much trouble already, people are already talking about how I can't control you.”

“now let's go, I'll have someone come and pack your shit.”

﹙ 𐙚 : jake﹚ .ᐟ

it was basically a miracle that jake was still alive , he barely did anything since you left , he only ate to stay alive , he only showered just in case you walked through the door. it had been two months since you left him , yelling how much you hated him before running out the door , leaving the sobbing boy on the floor. he was fully ready to take his life — but almost as if god was on his side , you come walking out of your favorite store. you had finally felt safe enough to go out and shop , jake hadn't tried to call you , of course you tried not to worry if he actually did end it all but you never got a call. you walk right past jake , you didn't even notice him that's how different he looked. jake followed you home , all the way up to your door , where he finally runs up to you. “yn!” he shouted. “yn why'd you leave me?” you try to open the door, but the look in his eyes. “j-jake.”

“please come home , i don't know how much longer i can do it without you.”

﹙ 𐙚 : sunghoon﹚ .ᐟ

sunghoon was too impulsive to let you go on for more than a month , so you quite literally have to go into hiding , never leaving your apartment; even moving from the apartment he knew about to another one , one you thought he'd never find — boy how wrong you were. still held up in your apartment , constantly looking at the door. one day you finally feel a little a peace , not enough to leave, but enough to order your favorite food. you heard a knock , which makes you get up and go towards it. you still check the camera you installed and what you see outside makes your blood run cold. “hi baby.” the boy bangs on the door. “i found you.” he said. “sung-sunghoon.” you stuttered out. “don't dare pick up that phone and call anyone.” he said , leaning closer to the camera. “you moved but your parents haven't.”

“now open the door if you love them.”

©LUVYENI

[suntoru]

─ ✰ LOVER’S CURRENCY!

✧˚ · . ITOSHI SAE’S sneaky way he shows he cares!

— warnings: fluff, crackfic, whipped sae, maybe ooc?

— author’s note: guys this is my first bllk work please spare me, comments and tags are very much appreciated!

“itoshi sae.”

you cross your arms with a pout, hovering over him intimidatingly as he peels one eye open, lazily draped over the couch.

“hm?” he cocks his head slightly, a ghost of a smirk tracing over his lips. sighing in exasperation, you attempt to reassert your point by rather agressively squishing his cheek with your finger.

“you did it again.”

“did what?”

it’s infuriating. he’s feigning ignorance, choosing to act clueless when you know he knows exactly what you’re talking about.

the edges of his lips are the slightest bit upturned, a faint twinkle of mischief in his eyes, subtle details easily missed by the casual onlooker. but with you, he’s an exposed canvas, an open diary— you can read him like a book.

“don’t play dumb, sae, it’s not funny!” you whine, digging in your purse pocket, and grabbing your wallet to pull out a shiny, black credit card— his. you hand him the card, wordlessly demanding him to take it back. but of course, itoshi sae wouldn’t be itoshi sae without the theatrics— eyeing the card smugly as he gives it a once-over.

“that doesn’t look like mine.” you roll your eyes, done with his shenanigans as you huff in mild annoyance. seriously, he acts like such a child sometimes.

“how many times have i told you i can pay for things myself? and i want my card back too.”

this time, he’s the one to pout.

“don’t wanna.”

you’re about to retort something back when he pulls you closer by your waist, earning a yelp from you as you crash on top of him, letting out a small ‘oof’, his long limbs trapping you in place.

“what the— sae!” you grumble, and although it’s half-assed, you choose to squirm in his arms, still rather annoyed at his (endearing) habit of deceiving you into spending his money. still, he snuggles into you, letting out a small sigh of discontent as you keep wriggling around.

“would you stop that?” he scowls slightly, although he’s not really mad. “‘m trying to get comfortable.”

begrudgingly, you surrender to the warmth of his embrace, relenting to the pull of his affectionate cuddles, but not without flicking his forehead childishly first. he huffs brattily, but all complaints disappear as he feels your arms slinking around his neck, nuzzling into his chest.

“i hope you know i’m e-transferring you your money back.” you mumble under your breath as he delicately traces shapes on your skin. he abruptly stops, prompting you to look up at him in confusion.

you don’t expect him to suddenly jab at your sides sides, playfully assaulting your stomach as he continues his onslaught, generating a shriek of giggles and pleas to stop from you. you kick and squeal, but his grip is like iron, targeting all your ticklish spots.

“s-sae, please, i didn’t mean, i-it, i swear—”

you manage to gasp out, completely pooped out from laughing so hard, and after five, long, painful minutes, he finally relents, allowing you to catch your breath as you glare at him, face flushed, panting heavily as you attempt recover from his utterly ruthless attack.

“i swear, if you weren’t so pretty-” you start, but you’re cut off by a rare laugh. small, yet entrancing all the same. his eyes crinkle, letting out a tiny chuckle as he gazes at you with pure adoration in his crystalline teal eyes. your heart races in response, the sheer sweetness of the moment causes you to liquify into a puddle.

…you suppose it wouldn’t be the end of the world if you let him get away with it just this once.

©kaeffeinee 2023. do not copy, repost, or translate any of my works on any platform.

[ode2rin]

just a short fluff for itoshi sae before i commit to my full fic for him, figured that i need to let this out to be able to focus on my sch works ._. | warning: a lil ooc sae and not proof read !

sae is giving you the cold shoulder. 

and if you counted it right, you’ve received a total of two side-eyes and an eye roll from him.

he’s obviously mad at you, and you don’t know whether to feel bad or laugh your ass off for the reason why.

apparently, sae finds it extremely offensive that you did not use his credit card for the groceries he asked you to buy. if he didn’t open his phone to check his emails while you sorted out the said groceries, he wouldn’t know that you did not use the black card he handed you. there was no notification from his bank indicating the non-use of the card.

“you didn’t use my card?”

“hm? oh yeah. it’s in my wallet. figured it wasn’t mu– wait why are you glaring at me?”

in your opinion (which he finds dumb), it’s nothing so bad, actually. but sae has been acting as if you committed a heinous crime under his name and you ran away from it. the way he’s acting right now is so far from what the public knew about him. huffing and puffing, blatantly avoiding looking at you. the older itoshi has a habit of being a bit dramatic, only a few knew that.

scratch that, only you know that.

“sae,” you say, trying to get his attention.

“sae!”

“i’m trying not to talk to you, if you can’t tell.”

you let out an amused chuckle at his reply, in which you received your third side-eye of the day. 

“what? i didn’t think it would be this big of a deal.”

sae scoffed, “well, it is to me.”

sensing the gravity in his tone, your steps led you towards the couch where he sat. without hesitation, you eased yourself next to him, sinking into the soft cushions. you curled your arms around his, feeling the warmth of his skin and the strength of his muscles. as you nestled closer, you rested your chin on his broad shoulder, feeling the rise and fall of his chest with every breath he took.

though he still faced away from you, you reached out to hold his hand that was resting on his thigh, interlacing your fingers with his. despite the anger simmering just beneath the surface, he didn't resist your gesture. sae was not one to deny physical affection from you, even when his emotions were running high. and you rightfully took advantage of that whenever the situation called for it, as it did right now.

“alright. i’m sorry,” you say, looking at your interlocked hands.

“are you, really?” a hint of sarcasm tinged his voice.

he was right, you weren't.

turning to face him, “yes, i’m not sorry. it wasn’t much, and the groceries were for the both of us. can’t i do that at least?” 

“it’s not about what you can do. it’s about what i want to do for you.”

sae briefly glanced at you before turning his gaze to the front as if he didn't want to see your reaction to what he said.

the truth is, sae thinks you deserve a nobel prize for putting up with him. but he couldn’t give you that, nor could he perfectly put into words how grateful he was to have you by his side.

sae could only show you, and this was one of his only ways. you can't take it away from him, much to your displeasure in using his money.

feeling touched from the sincerity of your lover’s words, you could only let out a sacred whisper of his name. he turned to you at the sound of his name coming out from your lips.

oh, how he loves that sound.

“don’t do this again,” sae said while running his thumb on your knuckles, still locking his gaze on yours as if he’s committing every one of your features to memory.

leaning closer to you, you felt the anticipation coiling in the pit of your stomach. slowly, his lips met yours in a soft, tender kiss, a gentle gesture that sae hoped conveyed the depth of his feelings for you. he pulled away from the kiss, leaving just enough space for him to speak.

“everything that i am is yours. use it.”

and true enough, he meant every word he said as you read the notification from your bank you received later that day, telling you that sae sent you exactly how much you spent on the groceries.

note. i may or may not have thought of this after seeing that tiktok edit of sae using kali's area codes sound. pls look away, i like my men with money (JUST KIDDING) sae has been plaguing my mind, and i'm hoping that this would alleviate the brainrot bec i can't do this anymore

[bunnys-kisses]

This is my first time ever submitting an ask on tumblr but i didnt realize u also wrote for Fernando !!! i have kinda a big order tho so mb ToT. can i please get persian roll and swiss roll with a side of naked and famous and champagne? served Fernando Alonso :))

bakery menu!!

want to submit your order? hit up the menu! there are many things on the menu and i would love to see what you come up with! these orders have been so fun to do, so thank you to everyone who has submitted them! <3 (also don't worry about it being a bigger order, i love doing this as well!!)

persian rolls: "it's mandatory i finish. you getting to finish is a treat." + swiss roll: "everything you own, everything you wear i paid for. so i guess that means i own you." + naked & famous: bimbo/ditzy!reader + champagne: sugar daddy situation served by fernando alonso (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, sugar daddy au, bimbo/ditzy!reader, mean!fernando, age gap (20s/40s), dirty talk & degrading language, fingering, doggy style, rough sex, orgasm denial

"daddy!" you chirped as you came through the front door of fernando's large house in spain. your heels clicked against the tiled floor and you did a full turn to find him, "daddy! where are you!" you perked up when you saw him emerge from the kitchen. he was drying his hands on a dish towel.

his smile dropped when he saw the bags in your hand. the names on them were expensive. he grew a little curious, "how did you pay for those, princess?" he asked you with his eyebrows raised. you didn't have a job, you hadn't had one for almost two years. and with the amount the appeared to be in those bags, your allowance didn't pay for that either.

you dipped your head a little and said, "i don't know daddy." and softly put the bags down and clasped your hands behind your back. your glossed bottom lip stuck out in a pout.

dumb little girl. stupid, idiotic little girl. you wouldn't learn your lesson until your ass cheeks were bruised till they were purple and you were wearing the collar that fernando bought for you when you misbehaved. there was a little weight to the item to remind you who you belonged to.

he groped your ass while you laid out on his lap. your ass was properly bruised as you whined against him. you were a pretty, whorish display for him. his grip was tight as he said, "everything you own, everything you wear i paid for. so i guess that means i own you."

you moved a little, 'daddy, please." you wanted to bury your head under the covers. to hear his rough voice in your head left you heated all over. he could so easily get under your skin, he could push and pull you into any position he needed you in. that was the power of a sugar daddy in that kind of arrangement. fernando, regardless, held over power over you. and it always made you pant heavily in a heated passion that made your cunt clench around him.

he liked you like this, submissive against him. while he'd give you the world, there were rules you had to follow. he touched your ass a little more as he said, "i know you cannot think, princess. there are so thoughts in that head of yours. but, what did i say about not taking daddy's credit card? you have to behave, angel."

you squirmed a little, "i'm sorry, daddy." you tried to pull away from him, but you weren't getting far. you clung to the sheets under you, your ass was a whorish display. he sank his fingers inside of you for a moment and you moaned loudly, "daddy i'm sorry!!!" and arched your back slightly, which fernando liked quite a bit.

"i bet you are." he said. his fingers felt so good in you as he rubbed against some of your more sensitive areas which made your toes curl, "but i know you'll do it again. because you are a bad girl, always a bad girl for me." his voice was low and it made you squirm a little more.

your cunt took his digits so well, your back arched so pretty and fernando continued to finger fuck you. he just kept you on the edge of orgasm, not helping you got over the hill with it. he teased you and you whined as you tried to get some friction from his rough jeans.

"no. no, princess. it's mandatory i finish. you getting to finish is a treat." he said as he refused to let you orgasm, this was all part of the punishment. it didn't take long before you ended up off of his fingers and on your face in the pillows with our hips in the air. you pretty pussy on display for him.

fernando got his clothes off and ended back on the bed with you. he licked his fingers clean of your wetness before he got up behind you on the bed. his cock was at full attention and the head was leaky with pre-cum. he wanted you, he wanted you badly. even when you misbehaved and caused him headaches. he wanted to finish inside that pretty cunt and bully his cum as deep as he could get you.

when he got himself inside of you, your back was arched and you clung to the pillows. your noises got loud and pathetic. you tried to beg, "i'm sorry, daddy" and hiked your hips up a little further.

"i know you are. i know you want me to forgive your little incident. but i think i may have grown too soft with you, angel. being too nice.' he said as he rutted against you. he could feel the flash of heat in his body, he pushed your head into the pillows and picked up the pace. he bullied your sweet cunt and your noises were greatly muffled, "you've become a spoiled little slut. you enjoy getting into trouble." he moved against you harder and you were moaning loudly.

"please, daddy." your back arched more as you yearned for him greatly. he just thought you were to die for, beyond beautiful laid out under him. if he flashed enough bills in your face or slipped you his credit card, you'd happily do anything he asked. he had you bound in a way that there was little to escape from him.

he continued to fuck you with a feverish pace and was spurred on by your hot and heavy moans. he watched you whine and claw at the covers like a wild animal. you were insatiable at times. you yearned for cock deeply and who was fernando to deny you that. but he was going to deny you the sweet release you craved.

only good girls got to cum.

he pace was brutal and you felt the rush of pleasure through you. you panted wildly and felt the inferno of lust in you. you were fernando alonso's stupid little princess and you wore that title with pride. you were proud to be his, even if you had bubblegum for a brain. but that was alright, that was what fernando was there for. to make sure his angel was cared for.

"are you not going to take my credit card anymore? you're going to be a good girl for me? not cause me problems? i'd hate to have to leash you. keep you close to me so you don't cause problems." he groaned as he continued to fuck you.

you shook your head against the pillows, "no daddy, i'm sorry daddy." your voice was strained as you felt close to your climax. but fernando finished before you, he shoved his entire length into your sweet cunt and made you toes curl at the feeling.

"that's what i like to here, angel. you sound so pretty when you beg for me. maybe you do have it in you to be a good girl for me." his thrusts were rough and it made your heart feel in your throat. he fucked you with a fury that left you feel even dumber.

"daddy."

with a few more heavy thrusts he finished inside of you. marking your pretty little pussy. he loved when he shoved it in as deep as it would go. leave a little reminder of him in you. he groaned harshly, "so pretty under me. such a little fucking whore." his words were biting and it only turned you on more. but before you could finish. he pulled out and pinched your clit. "no." and you whined more.

"daddy!" your voice was tight.

you whined and fernando said, "if you want to finish, you for once have to work for it. now get up on daddy's thigh." <3

[whatdoeseverybodywant]

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS

❤ Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 

All OC Characters belong to me

Summary: He's been gone for 4 months. 118 days without a phone call or a text. What happens when he finally shows back up to work? Will he give Kaela the answers she's looking for?

Parings: Roman Reigns x Black OC

Word Count: 2.2k

EDIT: I Forgot to give props to my girl @paigereeder ! She helped me out tremendously! Without her, this jawn would not have gotten done lmao.

Friday Night Smackdown August 2nd, 2024 

Where will you go now? Now that you're done with me Where will you go now? Now that you're done with me

Kalea Crawford stared down at her phone in shock. She could feel Jade and Bianca's gaze on her so she tried to school her features but the bold headline at the top of the page made her furrow her eyebrows. She felt like she was about to throw up. 

“Girl, are you okay?” Jade asked, her voice filled with concern.

“I’m fine,” Kalea replied a little too quickly, her eyes still focused on the phone. All three women knew it was a lie though. Kalea was anything but ‘fine’. If there was a word to describe how Kalea felt it was devastated. The longer she stared at the tweet the more she wanted to scream in frustration and anger. How could he do this to her? 

“When’s the last time you talked to him?” Bianca spoke up this time.

“It’s been a while.” Bianca and Jade shared a look. 

“How long is ‘a while’?” Jade pressed.

“I was giving him time, you know? He’s been dealing with so much these past couple of months, and I just thought.” Kalea trailed off with a shrug. 

“Lele -” 

“The day after Wrestlemania.” She kept her eyes cast downwards so as not to see the disappointed look on Jade and Bianca’s faces. 

“Wrestlema- Girl that was four months ago!” 

“I know,” Kalea whispered. She knew it was dumb but like she said, she was giving him time. He had just lost the Universal Title and had a bunch of personal shit going on. Every time she texted him, he either responded with one-word answers or he didn’t respond at all. 

I don't blame you You should be done with me I don't blame you You should be done with me

Was it naive of her to think he was still her boyfriend after not speaking for four months, Yes. But, she was in love. Kalea finally looked up, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. “I just didn’t want to push him,” she admitted softly. “I thought he needed space to figure things out.”

Jade shook her head in disbelief. "Lele, I get trying to be understanding and all, but this is next level. Four months without a single proper conversation? That's not space, that's practically radio silence." 

Kalea let out a humorless chuckle as she looked back at the pictures of Roman and his ex-wife. “Well, at least now I know why he hasn’t been answering my calls.” 

“You don’t deserve this,” Jade whispered and Bianca nodded, agreeing with her. “You are a bad bitch! You can get any man in here that you want.” 

“Aht!” Bianca cut Jade off, holding up her index finger. “Not any man.” Kalea laughed as she wiped away her tears. 

“Girl, you know what I meant. Don’t nobody want Kenneth's ass but you.” Jade pushed Bianca’s shoulder. “Anyway, fuck Roman.” 

I should've waited somehow I shouldn't have pushed so hard I always push too hard And now it's just a blackout

Kalea was grateful for her girls, but in the back of her mind, there was this nagging thought that his ghosting her was all her fault. She should have waited. She should have peeped game. Maybe if she had kept her mouth shut she would have been the one in his arms at the beach. 

Kalea was grateful for her girls, but in the back of her mind, there was this nagging thought that his ghosting her was all her fault. She should have waited. She should have peeped game. Maybe if she had kept her mouth shut she would have been the one in his arms at the beach. 

What the fuck was she thinking? Why had she sent him that fucking text message? She kept replaying the moment she hit send on that message, wishing she could take it back. He had already told her not not fall in love with him, but how couldn’t she? 

“Unh-Uh. No!” Jade exclaimed, knocking Kalea out of her thoughts. “You are not gonna sit there and wallow. Him being a dickhead is not your fault!” Even though she and Jade had only been friends for about 4 months, she could read her like a book. “I will not sit here and let you cry over him! No, wipe them tears, and go fix your makeup.” Kalea scoffed out a chuckle as she looked at Bianca who held her hands up defensively. 

“You heard her. Go get yourself together.” 

SummerSlam August 3rd 2024

kalea_wwe

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kalea_wwe: so, if I don't win, y'all gon riot right?

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trinity_fatu: u took this out my closet didn't you?

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I should've treated you better Used to deal with lames 'til she ran into a stepper

If looks could kill, Joe would have dropped dead where he stood backstage talking with Paul Heyman. He could feel their glares as he stood there going over tonight's plans. He knew he was an asshole for what he did to Kalea, but he was scared. Her love scared the fuck outta him. Being in love with her scared the fuck outta him. To everyone else, he was Roman Reigns, The Tribal Chief, The Head of the Table, but to her… to Kalea, he was just Joe. 

Kalea didn’t care about any of that. She didn’t care if he was the Undisputed Champion or the face of the company. She saw him for him. And that terrified him more than any opponent he had faced in the ring. The vulnerability Kalea stirred in him was a weakness he couldn't afford to have, not with his reputation on the line. He had pushed her away to protect himself, but all he had done was push away the one person who truly saw him.

“Big Uce!.” Joe felt a genuine smile come over his face as he turned to see Josh approaching with his usual easy-going grin.“Whats good man!” Josh then turned to Paul. “OG,”  He saw Josh’s eyes shift from his face to behind him. “Wassup with them?” Joe sighed and turned his head slightly to look at Bianca and Jade who still looked like they wanted to kill him. 

“Nothing just-” Joe replied, stopping short as he felt all the air leave his body when he saw Kalea walk up to Jade and Bianca dressed in her ring gear.  This was the first time he laid eyes on her and his heart clenched painfully in his chest.  Kalea's presence stirred up a whirlwind of emotions within Joe, his heart aching with regret and longing. Her eyes met his briefly, a flicker of hurt and disappointment clouding her gaze before she turned her attention back to Jade and Bianca. 

He couldn't bear the weight of her gaze, the silent accusation piercing his soul. Joe clenched his fists, trying to suppress the overwhelming guilt. He knew he had to make things right with Kalea, to explain himself and beg for her forgiveness. But would she even listen?

Kalea had a timid smile on her face as she looked at her two best friends.  “Girl you look bomb!” Bianca said and Kalea let out a breath. 

“How you feeling?” Jade asked, her eyes flickering behind Kalea’s head before flicking back to Kalea. 

Kalea’s smile faltered a bit. She went to turn her head to look behind her, to see if Joe was still there but Jade grabbed her cheeks and held her head. “Jade,” Kalea trailed off with an eye roll. 

“How. are. you. feeling?” Jade repeated. 

Kalea sighed “I feel fine, a little nervous but I got this. You are looking at the newEST WWE Women’s Champion. ”

“Alright now!”  

“Oh fuck.” Jade whispered, her smile had dropped and now a panicked look was on her face. 

Kalea’s brows furrowed. She opened her mouth to ask what the problem was, but before she could get it out, the problem spoke. 

“Kalea, can we talk?”  Kalea felt her heart start to beat faster as she turned to look at Joe. He had his hair slicked back into a bun, his new OTC merch, some sweatpants, and a pair of Air Jordan 1s. 

“I-” 

“She can’t” Biance spoke for her, arms crossed over her chest as she and Jade mugged Joe. Joe sucked in a deep breath already annoyed with Jade and Bianca. 

“Kalea?” He ignored Bianca’s statement, keeping his eyes on Kalea. 

“I won’t be long.” She said softly to Jade and Bianca. Bianca looked like she wanted to protest but Jade placed a hand on her shoulder and led her away from Kalea and Joe. 

I was fine with you bein' one of my hoes, for sure  She said she seen us bein' somebody goals, what are those?  I thought about givin' you the key to my heart, but it's froze

Kalea walked a few steps away with Joe, a mixture of nerves and curiosity swirling in her stomach. This is it. She thought. She kept her eyes downcast as they made their way to an empty part of the stadium. She could feel his eyes on hers but couldn’t find it in her to look up at him.  

“Kalea, can you look at me please?” The emotion in his voice shook her to her core.  As she slowly lifted her gaze to meet Joe's, she felt her heart skip a beat at the intensity of his stare. His eyes held a mixture of vulnerability and determination, making her breath catch in her throat.  “I’m sorry.” He finally whispered after a moment of them just standing there, staring into each other’s eyes. “I should have responded to your messages.” 

“Why didn’t you?” The pain in her voice damn near broke him. “An ‘i’m alive’ would have sufficed Joseph.” 

“Kalea –” 

You know the love was X-rated, it's how we made it

“It was because of my text message wasn’t it?” She cut him off. “You –, Because I told you I loved you? That’s why you ghosted me?”  She wrapped her arms around herself as if she was bracing herself for his response. 

Joe’s face fell as she shifted on his feet,  his guilt apparent. He took a deep breath as if steeling himself against a storm. “It’s not that simple,” he began, but Kaela cut him off.

“Not that simple?” She scoffed, her arms falling to her sides. “So fucking me was simple, but loving me isn’t?” 

“Kalea that not –” 

“No, I totally get it.” She cut him off with a chuckle but wasn’t shit funny.  “You were okay with the physical part, but when it came to actually feeling something, that was too much for you.”

Joe took a breath and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to maintain control over his emotions. “Kalea, it’s not that I didn’t care. It’s—”

“Not that you didn’t care?” Kalea rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. “If you cared, you would have faced it head-on. Instead, you just ran away, like a coward. I understand you told me not to fall in love with you, but you shouldn’t have been doing all the right shit for me to fall in love.” Kalea angrily wiped away the tears that fell. “All the dates and the – the little gestures. The way you looked at me, the way you held me. How was I supposed to not fall in love with that!?” She was damn near shouting now and she was grateful the part of the arena they were in was empty besides the two of them. 

She needed angles, I need angels, I'm fightin' Satan Leave me faded, I feel painless, I go out gracious I'm tryna feel a shade of greatness by celebratin' Bring entertainment, goin' brainless, like goin' dumb on my hiatus

Joe knew he messed up. He knew it when he ignored her first phone call. “I’m sorry.” He couldn’t think of anything else to say. He just wanted her to know how fucking sorry he was. 

Kalea shrugged "Sorry doesn't cut it,. Not this time. "

She turned to leave, but Joe reached out, grasping her wrist gently. "Wait, please. Let me explain."

Kalea pulled her wrist out of his grip. “It’s a little too late don’t you think Roman?” Joe’s heart fell to his ass. Roman? She was calling him Roman now? “You had four months to explain. But you didn’t want to explain to me then huh? You didn’t want to answer any of my text messages or phone calls. No, I wasn’t good enough for you. But I guess you’re ex-wife was.” 

Joe furrowed his eyebrow. “What are you talking about?” 

“Don’t play dumb. It’s not cute.” She pulled her phone from out of her bra and went to her Twitter, going to her bookmarks page and pulling up the tweet from TMZ. She shoved her phone in Joe’s hand. 

If Joe didn’t feel like shit before, he definitely felt like shit now. He hadn’t even seen anyone with cameras that day. Before he could say anything, before he could explain and beg for her forgiveness, she snatched the phone out of his hand.

Kalea's eyes were burning with anger and hurt. "Four months. Four months of silence, and then I see this?” She scoffed, shaking her head as she started to back away from him. “Just –, leave me alone.” She whispered, giving him one last longing look before walking away from him. 

Joe’s heart ached as he watched her leave, the depth of his mistakes more apparent than ever. He wanted to call out to her, to explain, to make things right, but the weight of his actions left him paralyzed.

Where will you go now? Now that you're done with me Where will you go now? Now that you're done with me Where will you go now? Now that you're done with me Where will you go now? Now that you're done- 'Til further notice 'Til further notice 'Til further notice (we'll keep you posted) 'Til further notice (I'll keep you posted)

WooHoo! Finally

I'm debating on making a part two. But I kinda like how I left it. .. sike, y'all know there's definitely gonna be a part two.

Lemme know what y'all think, this was my first time really sitting down and writing Roman (hope it's not too OOC)

❤ Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 

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@black-yn @mzv11 @shantinextdoor @sheydnni @zillasvilla

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*Im sorry if I missed anybody*

[bananayuyu]

Cabin Fever [part 3]

Pairing: Yunho x f reader

Genre: fluff and smut (and some angst this chapter)

Word count: 12.2k

Summary: A confrontation, a fainting spell, a jealous Yunho and a weirdly pissy Hongjoong. The morning gets off to a rough start but somehow the day couldn't have ended more perfectly.

Warnings: MDNI, smut, mentions of Hongjoong's family being homophobic/transphobic, vaginal sex, cream pie, unprotected sex (it's safe, you'll see)

A/n: Part 3 is finally here! The biggest shoutout in the world to @mingtinysworld, my absolute bestie (I love you so much!!<3). I must give her credit for coming up with several of the things that happen in this chapter. Things get a bit more angsty this chapter but I hope not too much. (Also I refer to Wooyoung as both bisexual and a slut in this chapter but want to clarify that I'm not trying to play into that stereotype!! it's just two things that felt fitting for the character in this story. bi people are no more or less likely to be slutty than anyone else). this chapter took longer than I expected to finish because I've finally mapped out what I want to do for the rest of the series! I hope you all enjoy this part! <3

Linked here is my masterlist where you can find the previous parts. Again let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist! (it will be six parts in total if everything goes to plan)

Read part 4 here!

Taglist: @certifiedmoa @pautiny27 @luvbit3z @dawn-iscozy @artistic-rendition

@yeosangiess @drinkingrumandcocacola @smally97 @kierraperkins3 @newworldwritings

@peachyy-jooniee @lucid-galaxys-world

You wake like your first morning in the cabin to the bright hot sun, the storm having moved out of the area overnight. You feel too warm laying in your bed with Yunho wrapped around you; you look down and see you both kicked off your blanket at some point in the night. You roll over to wriggle free, your skin feeling sticky with sweat and your hair feeling matted and knotty. You know the reflection you'll be greeted with in the mirror will be quite a mess.

"Morning," Yunho yawns, stretching his arms above his head, his bare abdomen looking so enticing even first thing in the morning.

"I'm so sweaty," you laugh, yawning as well.

"I know, me too," he says, turning his head to the side to get a whiff of his own underarm. "Oh, god," he says, making you giggle. Leaning over to get a whiff yourself, you stick your nose right into the small patch of hair.

"Mmm, so good," you say, a smile on your face. "I need to bottle that scent."

"What would you call it?" Yunho chuckles, pulling you close to him despite the heat.

"Hmm, something like, tall man with large hands." You laugh at how dumb and simple your response is.

"Mm, with notes of sex god and a handsome face," Yunho replies, a cocky grin on his face. You roll your eyes, but truthfully deep down you find it kind of hot when he gets that way.

"No, with notes of gamer nerd and 'never eats vegetables' actually," you say, teasing him. He reaches down to your side to tickle you, making you shriek with laughter, before climbing on top of you and kissing you, deeply. Immediately it's heated, like he's trying to remind you of everything from the night before, his hips bucking into yours slightly and the pressure on your core feeling so enticingly good.

With a ragged breath you break the kiss, your head feeling fuzzy.

"I'm too hot," you say, half-heartedly pushing him off you, not really wanting it to stop.

"Yeah, I know," Yunho says, his tone again cocky, his mouth moving down to your neck and hands grabbing at your ass and thighs. You giggle and sigh into his movements, feeling yourself already getting wet, your body already craving him. But you also feel so out of it and hungry, and you think of everyone else up and about; Seonghwa will probably be worried again if you stay in here too long.

"Yunhooo," you whine, pushing him off with a little more force, and he relents, kissing your nose as he moves off of you.

"I wanna eat you," he says, his face flushed with lust. You squeal and cover your face in embarrassment; no one has ever said something like that to you in your life. Yunho smiles at your reaction, absolutely loving the effect he has on you. Whenever he makes you smile, laugh, moan, it makes his chest feel full, like he's doing exactly what he's meant to do with his life.

Finally the two of you stumble out of bed, and you rake your fingers through your hair, trying your best to smooth it out. Your hairbrush is in the bathroom and you feel like you could really use a shower, so you decide you'll do that first thing this morning, right after getting some food in you. The two of you head out the door together, not thinking much, Yunho's hoodie the only article of clothing you have on. You rub your tired eyes, your body still feeling weak, but your cramps not present like they had been. You feel ready for the day, hopeful that your body will finally feel okay.

As soon as you enter the living room, you notice everyone's eyes on you. You halt in your tracks; everyone is acting strange and you can sense a bit of tension in the room immediately.

"What's going on?" you ask, your voice a bit groggy, your brain still not totally awake. The room is silent for a moment; you feel Yunho's hand on your shoulder grip you ever so slightly.

"I think everyone needs to talk to you both," Seonghwa says, finally breaking the silence. You turn in his direction, confusion clear on your face. It wasn't like last year when Hongjoong and Seonghwa hooked up, everyone confronted them about it. You knew it was probably pretty obvious what was happening, but you didn't think everyone needed an explanation. Not right now, at least. You turned towards Ari, looking at her with concern.

"I don't have anything I need to say," she says to the room, clearly trying to communicate to you that she didn't share anything, nor does she see the need for this. Her eyes almost seem to be pleading with everyone, to drop the subject, or maybe she just looks worried. Whatever it is, her look sets you on edge, and you step away from Yunho without realizing it, your body instinctually trying to isolate itself.

"Can I not get something to eat first? What is going on?" you ask, trying not to panic. Again everyone is silent for a second, and some of their faces look stony; you're worried that there isn't something you're understanding. "Fucking hell, just say it, please," you beg.

"Did you realize how loud you two were being last night?" Hongjoong finally spits out, making your stomach drop.

"Oh, fuck," you groan into your hands, wishing the floor could open up and sallow you whole.

"Woah, woah. Why the hell are you saying this in front of everyone?" Yunho responds to him, not doing a good job of controlling the anger in his tone.

"Because everyone heard you last night, not just me," Hongjoong shoots back, clearly pissed at Yunho's tone.

"Ari just said she has nothing to say about this," Yunho retorts, his eyes narrowing.

"Okay let me clarify then, every one of us who has to sleep out here on these couches, while the two of you get a private space all to yourselves, we all heard you guys last night." Hongjoong's volume is rising, and you don't know why he's so pissed. But you feel mortified, so shocked this conversation is even happening. "I know it is possible to hook up in this cabin without making everyone hear it," he says.

You've physically turned yourself away from the room, wanting to inch your way into the kitchen but feeling stuck to the floor.

"This is so ridiculous, why are you acting like you've never heard people having sex before? It couldn't have been that fucking loud," Yunho sighs loudly, shocked himself that any one of your friends would even care. You all were very, very comfortable around each other. He knew Hongjoong was one of the more modest of the bunch, but still. He was fucking Seonghwa out in the middle of the forest last night, for god's sake.

"It was, pretty loud," Mingi sighs, his voice much calmer and quieter than Hongjoong's but still laced with tension, as if he's trying to bring the conversation back to normal. "Like someone was watching porn on their phone at full volume, or something." He laughs, obviously trying to lighten the mood, but it doesn't work.

"Oh god, please, stop," you finally find words, running to the kitchen. Ari jumps up and runs after you, wrapping her arms around you as you bury your head into your hands even further.

"Don't say shit like that right now, it's not funny," Yunho says, his face flushed with anger.

"Sorry I was just trying to- I don't know why this got so weird," Mingi replies, stumbling over his words. "I just thought you guys would want to know how audible it was."

"Listen, I'm fucking sorry. I obviously didn't realize, I obviously wasn't wanting you all to hear," you say from the kitchen, shaking with how embarrassed you feel. Ari rubs your back, trying to comfort you.

"Look at how awful you've made her feel. Do you guys feel good about that?" Yunho spits out, his words fiery. Something in you shatters at how protective he's being, and you suddenly gag with nausea, running over to the sink.

"Yunho, no one is trying to hurt her feelings," Seonghwa replies, trying in desperation to keep the conversation from spiraling into a full blown fight.

"What are you trying to do then?" Yunho asks, eyes scanning around the room to catch a glimpse of everyone's faces.

"I think what everyone was trying to say, though they didn't do a very good job I will admit, was that you two being so loud last night made them a bit uncomfortable and made it hard to sleep. And-"

"It made me horny, that's why I couldn't sleep," Wooyoung cuts him off.

"For fucks sake Woo, not now," Seonghwa replies, still managing to keep his tone light. "I think everyone really just wanted to ask you two if you could keep it down going forward. That's all," he finishes, shooting a look in Hongjoong's direction that seemed to say a million things.

"And that couldn't have been said to me privately, by like, one person?" you ask from the kitchen, trying to keep your body from releasing all of yesterday's food.

"I'm sorry honey, everyone was talking about it this morning and I thought it would be better for it just to be out in the open," Seonghwa says to you, like he's taking responsibility for it.

"Everyone was talking about it, how great," you reply, your tone laced with sarcasm.

"You all are being so fucking immature," Yunho continues, his anger still evident.

"Yunho, it's not like we were all giggling about it like twelve years olds or something. But you guys were having loud sex, you really expect that none of us would to mention it to each other this morning?" Wooyoung replies. "My cousins are here, and they don't really know you guys like we do, you know?"

"I get that Woo, and I'm sorry Jongho and Yeosang if it made you guys uncomfortable," he says, looking sincerely in their direction. "But again, why did you all have to confront us like this first thing in the morning?! When you know how awful she's been feeling! This whole conversation did not have to happen this way at all!" He is almost yelling, more worked up than you've seen him in a long time. You feel thankful he's standing up for you, as it seems he's the only man in the room who understands how mortified you feel. But his raised voice and tone are starting to set everyone on edge, you can feel it, and you really, really don't want this conversation to get even worse.

"I'm going to bathroom," you mutter, quickly walking yourself over and closing the door tightly behind you. In the mirror over the sink you finally get a good look at yourself, your messy appearance matching exactly how you feel on the inside. You hair is as knotty as you thought it would be, and you start trying to brush it out, wincing every time you tug a little too hard. You feel yourself start to heave again, so you lean down over the toilet in case anything comes up. The smallest amount of puke leaves your lips and you grimace at the bitter taste, quickly shuffling over to the sink to rinse out your mouth. Sat on your knees on the floor you breath deeply, the nausea having passed now that you're in a room by yourself, blocking out the argument happening outside. You're just starting to think you're feeling better, about to stand up, when everything goes black.

For a brief moment you feel yourself crumple to the floor, the tile cold against your uncovered legs. But then you're fully gone, not hearing or knowing anything.

"Y/n, can you hear me? Are you here?"

You wake to Yunho crouched over you, a hand on your wrist checking your pulse. Your eyes barely open, the light of the room making your head hurt. You try to say something to him but you can't; only a pathetic whimper leaves your lips as you try to wake yourself.

"I'm here," he says, stroking a hand through your hair and rubbing the back of your head where it meets your neck. You've told him many times that it feels good to be rubbed there, especially when you've just fainted, so now he makes sure he does it every time. He sits with you in silence, just like you've asked him to, waiting for your body to fully regain consciousness. It takes a little while but finally you move, opening your eyes more to meet his, curling up your body in his direction.

"How'd it happen?" he asks.

"I like, puked, and then I felt better, but then I ended up here, I don't know," you say, trying to remember everything that had happened before your memory cut out.

"So you were standing?" he asks, very concerned.

"No I was like, on my knees cause of leaning over the toilet to puke. I just closed my eyes to breathe for a second and then I collapsed."

"Did you hit your head?"

"I don't think so," you respond, looking up at him with teary eyes. He looks down and assesses your pupils, pretty sure they look normal in the light of the bathroom. He runs a hand through your hair, trying to keep his breathing normal. But his heart is racing out of control, his panic not subsiding. Not when he found you collapsed in a heap on the floor, minutes after he finished arguing with everyone else. A piercing anger runs through his chest, anger at how everyone acted this morning. It must have made you unbelievably stressed, being called out like that and humiliated in front of everyone. It's probably the reason you're here on the floor now, why your body just gave out on you. His breathing is ragged as he stares at you, as much as he tries to appear calm for your sake. It just can't happen right now, not after everything that happened this morning.

"Yunho, I'll be fine," you say, putting a hand on his thigh.

"I know," he responds, his throat tense, his eyes looking panicked.

"You're scaring me," you tell him, tears forming in your eyes.

"Fuck, I'm sorry. With everything that just happened I was so caught off guard finding you here. I'm so worried about you," he says, tears forming in his eyes as well.

"It'll be okay, I just need to rest," you say, repeating something you've said probably thousands of times in your life, to people around you when you're sick. How common it was for other people to be even more panicked than you, when you were the one actually experiencing the issue. Yunho can read the frustration in your tone easily, and it feels like a stab in his chest knowing that he isn't helping you how he knows he should.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he says, collecting himself and stroking the back of your head again, hoping it's comforting. "Do you want me to carry you to your bed?" he asks.

"Can you please go get Hwa," you ask, not able to hide your frustration with him.

"Of course," he says, sounding almost defeated, and even though you asked for it, it hurts when he moves away from you to go get your other friend. In the few moments that you're alone again you start crying, tears streaming down onto the floor, your body finally starting to release some of it's tension.

"Oh honey, I'm so sorry I didn't realize you had passed out," Seonghwa says as soon as he enters, leaning down to wipe the tears off your cheeks.

"It's okay," you squeak, still crying.

"Why don't I get you to a couch so you can rest more comfortably?" he asks, stroking a hand through your hair. "I can brush out your hair too, if you want."

"It's so bad," you say, groaning.

"Not at all," he says, positioning you to hoist you up, finally standing and walking carefully so he doesn't hit any part of you on the doorframe.

As soon as you exit the bathroom you can hear the arguing, and it makes you grab your ears, wishing you could silence everyone.

"You realize that wouldn't have happened if you didn't talk to her like assholes this morning, right?!" you hear Yunho say, again on the verge of yelling.

"How was I supposed to know she was going to faint!?" Hongjoong retorts, sounding exasperated. "I obviously didn't want that to happen Yunho, Jesus Christ!"

"Dude, you know how fragile her body is! And that she's been feeling terribly the past few days; you probably could have predicted this would be the outcome, honestly," Yunho says, refusing to back down.

"Yunho that's a crazy thing to say," Mingi interjects, sounding almost scared to speak up. "Obviously none of us wanted to cause her to faint."

"Frankly, the way things sounded last night it seemed like she was feeling better," Hongjoong interjects, still on edge.

"Stop mentioning it, it's been talked about enough," Yunho snaps, his voice lower but his anger still obviously at a boiling point. The look he shoots Hongjoong is stern, scarier than he realizes.

"You're the one who came in here yelling," Hongjoong responds, arms crossed over his chest.

"I'm not yelling. I'm pissed at you all because you made her faint," Yunho says, voice still low.

"Will you all please get off of this couch so I can set y/n down?" Seonghwa cuts them off, taking in a slow deep breath. He sets you down gently, placing several pillows behind your back and head to prop you up, grabbing his glass of water from the morning and making you drink some. When Yunho sees the absolute state you are in his anger spikes again; he's seen you like this quite a few times, but never under these circumstances. You'd always been home, close to the local hospital, in your predictable environment. Here it was different, especially with so many people around. He feels utterly out of his depth, but something in him still needs to care for you.

Sitting down next to you he grabs your hand, brushing his thumb along your palm in small circular motions. He wants to apologize a thousand times over, wants to scream at everyone else, especially Hongjoong, and wants to ask how you're feeling. But he doesn't know if any of that is the right thing to do. He suddenly feels a pang of jealousy, at seeing the way Seonghwa methodically takes care of you, seeming to know exactly what to say and what to do, in every moment.

"Yunho, you're freaking her out," Seonghwa says, moving over to help you drink more water. He takes your hand out of Yunho's, helping you grip the glass, making sure you don't spill on yourself. "If you can't keep calm right now then you need to leave the room."

"How- how am I supposed to keep calm right now?" Yunho asks, his voice shaking.

"I don't know, do whatever helps you. You know, for some people breathing calmly helps, others visualize certain things, others need to cry for a bit, maybe go for a quick run. Whatever works for you," Seonghwa says, feeling frustrated with Yunho but not letting it show.

"I don't want to leave her," Yunho says.

"She'll be perfectly fine in my care, don't you think?" Seonghwa responds, trying not to sound patronizing. Trying really to get Yunho to realize himself that he should take a step back, and give you space. He can tell it's not doing you any good, the way Yunho is acting. Even if it's coming from a good place.

"I don't want all of them near her," Yunho says, gesturing his head in the direction of the other boys.

"It's not like they're going to hurt her Yunho," Seonghwa replies, still helping you sip at your water. Yunho looks at Seonghwa, wanting to believe him. Logically he knows it's true, but he really does worry that something one of them says could make you faint again.

"God I'm so fucking pissed," Yunho sighs out, putting his head in his hands.

"Yunho, stop," you say, your voice almost a whisper as you try not to start crying again.

"Ok, that's it, you need to get out of here," Seonghwa finally says to Yunho, placing his hand on his knee to get his full attention. Yunho shoots him a hurt look, feeling a bit caught off guard. Seonghwa's never told him something like this before, when you were sick. Usually he appreciated having another person there to help. He slowly stands up, walking towards the kitchen to get away.

"Dude, lighten up," Mingi says, slapping Yunho gently on the back in a gesture of attempted kindness. But it doesn't go over how he's hoping.

"Dude, shut the fuck up," Yunho says, making you cringe into yourself. It really does feel like he's coming apart at the seams, and it makes you feel so panicked.

"Alright, fuck, everyone listen to me," Seonghwa says, standing up to face the room. "Look I really don't like having to do this, having to treat you all like you're fucking children, but clearly all of you don't understand how to emotionally take care of yourselves, and your dramatics are making our very sick friend feel even worse. So here's what we're going to do. All of you boys are going to go outside, and finish that game of basketball we started yesterday. With the exception of Wooyoung, because I need you and Ari to stay in and assist me. The rest of you please, go outside and work out your fucking differences on that court, and come back inside in much better spirits and aware of your fucking impact on other people. Okay?" He finishes talking with an expectant look, and everyone knows he won't take no for an answer. Soon they're all shuffling outside, and once they're all gone and the back door is shut, you immediately feel a bit better. The energy of the room is immediately lighter, and you take a big sigh of relief, readjusting yourself to get comfortable.

"Thank you Hwa," you say, finishing the glass of water in your hands.

"Of course. I'm sorry they were all acting like that, I hope I didn't stress you out too," he responds, his voice so gentle again.

"I don't even think that's why I fainted, I know Yunho kept saying that but it's probably just cause my period was so bad. I feel like that's a more logical explanation," you say, the quieter room allowing your brain to finally work a bit more.

"I know, I agree. I've never seen him so scared," Seonghwa says, rubbing his hand along your arm.

"Me too, it was freaking me out," you say, turning to look him in the eye. "Just so you know, we aren't like dating or something. This whole, thing, between me and Yunho, it just started on this trip. And I don't even know what it is. I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to talk to you about it yesterday." It feels good to finally get the words out.

"You don't have to apologize. I was pretty sure nothing had happened before, cause I know you would've told me. Believe me, I know the affects this cabin can have on people," he chuckles, making you smile. "By the way, I'm sorry for how Hongjoong was talking to you earlier, genuinely. I don't think it's wrong for him to feel uncomfortable, if that's really what the issue was, but he was being kind of an asshole." Seonghwa looks crestfallen, like he's embarrassed to be apologizing on behalf of Hongjoong.

"You don't have to apologize for him, Hwa. Just because you two are kind of, involved or whatever, doesn't mean you need to do that." Seonghwa nods his head at your words, but his face doesn't change, and it looks like he's lost in thought. "What's going on, why does your face look like that?" you ask.

"Just, I don't know why he was being like that with you two, everyone was talking about it in a funny way this morning. I guess he was being weird all morning, even before you guys came out here. I'll tell you in a minute, just, hold on." He turns his attention to the other two sitting on the couch across, giving you space. "Wooyoung can you please make some quick soup for y/n, something salty with meat and vegetables. And also some chamomile tea please, with a teaspoon of honey?"

"Of course, coming right up," Wooyoung says, climbing off the couch. "Y/n I'm sorry about this morning, I thought it would be just a little joke. I didn't realize it would get so, serious," he says as he crosses the room.

"Thank you, Woo. I'm sorry if your cousins felt weird," you reply, them truly being the people you worried you'd crossed a line with. The rest of you had heard the odd sound or two and talked about sex at length over the years you'd known each other, but those two didn't know you at all.

"Oh, I don't really think they cared, we were all laughing about it last night. I just, I was a little surprised Yunho was so pissed that we were talking about it. I hope- I hope you know we weren't being weird or gross," he replies.

"I know, it is just a bit mortifying though, you have to understand," you say.

"I know, I'm sorry. We will forget it even happened, we'll have a fun day," Woo says, starting to work on your tea, raising his voice so he can be heard from the kitchen. "What do you want to do, after you eat?" he asks.

"Y/n, you wanna put makeup on them? We haven't done that in forever," Ari pipes up from the other couch, her voice also gentle like Seonghwa's.

"Ooh, that actually sounds so fun. If you both are down?" you ask Seonghwa and Wooyoung, giving Seonghwa your best puppy-dog eyes.

"How could I say no," Seonghwa replies, smiling.

"That sounds fun!" Wooyoung replies from the kitchen, busily readying your tea and prepping for cooking.

"That'll be good," you say, breathing in the relief of their good, calm company. "Thank you guys for being, like, normal this morning."

***

After you drink your tea and eat your breakfast, you start to feel a little better. You're clearly still in a weak state, needing to stay sat on the couch, but you have the energy to talk with everyone. Ari had gone and grabbed her large makeup bag from her room, setting out everything methodically on the large coffee table. Everything is organized by product type, and you both begin looking over everything, deciding what you'll be doing.

"Woo, can I put eyeliner on you?" Ari asks.

"Sure, do whatever," Wooyoung responds, honestly just loving the attention. He's always loved when you two would do his makeup, just for the simple fact that he got to spend so much time having someone else fret over him.

"I'm gonna make you look so cool," Ari says, grabbing the shade of foundation she was going to use, and the eyeliner and black eye shadow.

"Okay well if you're doing that, I'm gonna make Hwa like, super feminine, pretty, pink," you say, grabbing your favorite highlighter and the shade of pink lip gloss you think will look perfect on him. "Wait, can I do your hair too?" you ask Hwa.

"What are you going to do?" he asks you. You know he's very protective of his hair, especially since he's been growing it out so long this past year.

"I just want to put it in pigtails or something, not use any heat on it," you say.

"Okay, that's fine," he says, positioning himself in front of you so you can start applying the makeup.

As you both begin the room falls into a comfortable quietness, with only a few words being exchanged here or there. Mostly it's just you and Ari asking each other how a certain thing looks, or asking each other for advice. Having something to focus on that is purely fun, purely creative helps get your mind off your terrible morning, and soon you feel yourself really start to feel better. A little while later one of the boys pokes their head in asking about lunch, but Seonghwa makes them stay outside, asking Wooyoung to whip together something quick and just bring it out to them. He wants to prolong this gentle calm atmosphere for as long as he can, so that you can truly rest up and feel better. And he himself feels relieved from not having to be in the same room as Hongjoong.

"Wait, you were going to tell me something about Hongjoong," you say to him as you gently apply his highlight.

"Oh, yeah, that," Seonghwa sighs.

"What is it?" you ask, looking at him with concern.

"He's just been really distant and cold, all morning. And yesterday things were like, so good, we were having all these conversations, we talked about some very personal things. Each night he's been cuddling me to sleep, like specifically asking me to come cuddle with him. I didn't expect that sort of thing when we came here, but he's been so touchy and so sweet, and then suddenly this morning he was like avoiding me, not sitting next to me, not talking to me. And he was being so weird talking with Yunho this morning too, both of them were in such weird moods. I don't know what to think. I shouldn't like someone who is hot and cold with me, I know I shouldn't. But something, yesterday, there was something that happened that felt almost perfect and I can't get it out of my head."

"I don't like that he was being like that with you this morning," you sigh. "I don't get why he gets that way sometimes."

"It's cause of his family, right?" Ari asks, carefully starting to apply Wooyoung's eyeliner.

"I know they're insane and homophobic, but he's twenty-seven. Maybe I'm being unfair, but he's been independent from them for nearly a decade. And they don't even live in the same city as us anymore. I just feel upset that he hasn't worked on changing more. That was how he was in high school. And he knows all of us, especially Seonghwa, are going to love and respect him always. I know his defense mechanism with his family is to shut himself off from them, but why does he have to be that way with us still?" you say.

"He's clearly all messed up about something," Seonghwa replies, sighing. "I actually thought he'd changed a lot. You know last year after our trip, I was worried he'd be really awkward and avoid the subject with me, but when we spoke about what had happened between us he was very direct and open. He seemed like he was able to really talk about his feelings. So I thought he had finally changed."

"I'm sorry, my inability to keep things quiet last night might have contributed. I truly feel bad, I did not realize," you say.

"Your moans did not put him in a bad mood," Seonghwa laughed, grabbing your cheek reassuringly. "He was fine last night. It was a this morning thing. Who knows."

You nod, not really wanting to talk about it anymore. And it seems Seonghwa doesn't either, nor do the other two, because the subject is dropped. You finally put on the pink lip gloss, the final touch to your beautiful masterpiece. Seonghwa's full lips shine beautifully, his entire face perfection.

"You've got to do more makeup campaigns," you say, staring in awe.

"I know, that first one I did all those years ago was so fun," he says, reminiscing.

"Can I do your hair now?" you ask, giddy. Seonghwa turns himself around, grabbing two small hair ties off the table for you to use. Once you've placed the two hair ties just as you want them you turn him around, taking a look at the adorable pigtails.

"God, you look so good with your hair like that. You are like, the most androgynous person I've ever seen," you say, knowing it's a compliment he loves.

"Do I look pretty?" he asks, twirling for you.

"The prettiest," you say, smiling. Suddenly, an idea pops into your head. "Hwa, you should put on the sun dress I brought with me."

"You think it'll fit?" he asks.

"Oh yeah, it's like stretchy in the back. I think you've worn it before, it's that yellow one, with the pink flowers," you say. "It's in the bottom of my suitcase, if you want to go grab it."

Seonghwa never turns down an opportunity to wear your dresses or skirts, always having loved how he felt in them. As he goes to find your dress in the library you turn to Wooyoung and Ari, who are almost done themselves. Ari is putting the finishing touches on the smoky shadow that accompanies heavy eyeliner, the obvious star of the show.

"This is some of your best work," you say, amazed. A part of you is almost pissed that these two boys look way better in makeup than you do. But more than anything you feel lucky to have people so willing to let the two of you experiment.

"Do I look sexy?" Wooyoung asks, fluttering his eyes at the both of you. It's basically all he ever wants to be called, so you both giggle.

"Of course you do," Ari says, laughing at him.

Just then Seonghwa reenters the room, your dress the only piece of clothing he's now wearing.

"Stop, you look so freaking cute," you say, staring at him in awe.

"Hwa, you should start wearing your hair like that all the time. It looks so good," Ari adds.

"Woo, what do you think?" Seonghwa says, looking at him expectantly.

"Um well, sorry, but you look extremely fuckable," he says, making you all burst into laughter. "You look really pretty," he says, his cheeks looking a little pink even under his makeup.

"Oh, so you're horny again," Ari says, to more laughter.

"I can't help it, it feels like everyone in this damn cabin is fucking except for me," Wooyoung responds.

"You know, there are ways of relieving those pent up feelings yourself," you say, motioning to your hand.

"It's not the same," he grumbles, making you all giggle again.

"Woo it's barely been four days on this cabin trip, are you already that desperate to have sex with someone?" Seonghwa asks, coming to sit down next to you again.

"Oh god don't chastise him, it'll probably turn him on more," Ari says, smirking at Wooyoung. He visibly squirms in front of her, not able to sit still anymore with the current topic of conversation.

"Every friend group needs a bisexual, bratty slut I guess," Seonghwa says, and the room is erupting in laughter again, even from Wooyoung.

"I don't think I'm the only slut in this group," Wooyoung says, shooting you a look.

"Ok woah, I might be very sex positive but I am not a slut, Woo. I've slept with maybe one percent of the number of people you have," you respond, looking at him with mock exasperation.

"But y/n, being slutty is really just a state of mind, it's not about the actual number of people you've slept with. And it seems like a certain someone has turned you into one recently," he says, making your mouth fall open. "I'm not trying to be mean, I swear," he says in reaction to your face. "I'm just glad you two are finally fucking," he says with his full chest, making Seonghwa and Ari laugh hard.

"Ok, so, you're saying you've been wanting this to happen?" you say, laughing and holding out your hands in confusion.

"Well, that man certainly has wanted it to, and I thought maybe you did too, but I was starting to wonder if I was wrong. I was always fascinated, it was like my own little experiment, watching to see just how long two people who obviously found each other attractive would hold out. I was especially shocked that it didn't happen when you moved into together," he says, eyeing you with adoration more than anything, which helps you not feel so exposed by his words. "I know not everyone is as much of a horn dog as I am, but it's not like either of you are asexual, either. I knew it would happen someday," he finishes.

"How did like, everyone else know this was gonna happen before I did?" you ask, remembering Ari's insistence yesterday that he was in love with you, and also remembering Mingi's look in the hot spring your first night. Fuck, he knew too, you thought. Did everyone else know?

"You wouldn't be you if this had happened any other way," Seonghwa says, grabbing your hand.

"I know, I'm kind of oblivious," you say, turning towards him with a downturned smile.

"Only to how magnetic you are to certain people. You've never been able to tell when someone likes you," he says, squeezing your hand slightly. It makes you laugh because it's true, very true.

"My mind is usually elsewhere," you say, making him chuckle.

"I know," he says, and he truly means it. He knows all of the places your mind usually is, good and bad.

"What time is it?" you ask, feeling your stomach rumble.

"Should we let everyone back in?" Seonghwa asks.

"Yeah, I think they should be okay by now. And I'm hungry, I wanna have some dinner," you say. "I feel a lot better, thank you guys," you say giving them each a quick hug before settling yourself back down on the couch. "I think my period is basically over."

"Already? It's been like two days, right?" Ari asks.

"Yeah, sometimes if they're that heavy it's all over that quickly," you say.

"I'm glad it's over," Hwa says, before handing you another glass of water he'd just filled. You sip at it, watching as he walks to the back door to open it, his long lean legs looking gorgeous under your dress. "You all can come back in now, if you want," you hear him say.

As the boys slowly make their way back inside you see they're all sweaty, the sun hot and the air humid from the previous day's weather. Most of them do a bit of a double take at Seonghwa's appearance, and at Wooyoung's too.

"Looks like you all had fun in here," Yeosang says, smiling at Wooyoung.

"How was the game?" Woo asks him.

"It was good, felt good to run so hard. We won," he says, with a proud smile.

"Well you had Yunho and Mingi on your team, so it wasn't exactly fair," Woo responds, making Yeosang laugh.

The two tallest men are the last to reenter, their faces glistening in sweat, Yunho's eyes still looking the slightest bit sullen. A small part of your heart twinges, but you try to ignore it. You want this moment to be a fresh start from the morning, to help everyone back to the fun energy of the previous few days.

"Everyone, look, doesn't Seonghwa look so pretty?" you say, hoping everyone comes with you as you glide towards lighter subjects. "Here, come here, let me touch up your lip gloss Hwa."

He comes down and sits in front of you, and you gently brush the applicator over his lips, his face completely still just as you need it. From the kitchen Yunho watches, your hands on his face, your lips on his temple when you give him a small kiss. He does feel better after playing so hard, but instead of anger he now feels what must be envy; it feels like it's snaking up his back to his neck, threatening to choke him. He will never be Seonghwa, never be what Seonghwa is to you. It's a soul crushing realization.

"Ok, there," you say after giving Seonghwa a quick peck on the temple, careful not to mess up the makeup you spent hours on. "Give everyone a little walk," you say.

"Is that your dress?" Mingi asks him as he watches him walk, everyone cooing out their praises.

"No, it's y/n's," Seonghwa responds.

"Oh wow, it fits so well. It looks so good on you," Mingi says, matter of factly.

You gaze around the room, watching Seonghwa's face light up at everyone's praise, when suddenly your eyes land on Hongjoong. Stood in the corner of the room, nursing occasionally at his water bottle, he's unable to take his eyes off of Seonghwa, and it almost looks like he isn't blinking. His face is possibly the softest you've ever seen it, his eyes looking big and gentle and his eyebrows turned up every so slightly in the middle. He doesn't move a muscle but you can see his chest rising and falling, his body seeming almost unaware of anything. Except for the man standing in front of him in a pretty yellow dress.

Suddenly you're snapped back, to Seonghwa's first ever major photo shoot, the one you and most of your friends accompanied him to, to help him feel confident during such a big step in his career. He was only twenty-one then, only about a year into his modeling career. Thinking back now you all were babies, just getting your starts in the world, nowhere even close to finding your feet and knowing who you were. It was such a high profile magazine, and you couldn't have been more excited and hopeful for your friend, unbelievably honored that he asked you to come with him. Everyone had cleared their schedules to be there.

It was the first time you'd seen just how great Seonghwa looked in a dress, all dolled up. As much as he liked feminine clothes, he rarely wore them himself because he feared judgement. But this space was different; every model for that campaign was androgynous. You had never been in a room with so many people who didn't fit into the gender norms. You all waited patiently as Hwa went to change into his outfit for his photo shoot; the room was giant and full of little changing rooms, and you all lost him in the sea of people and chairs, clothes and makeup. Until he finally emerged.

That was the only other time you'd seen Hongjoong look like this. His eyes went so wide you thought they might pop out. He was frozen, truly frozen then, not a single thing in his hand for him to fiddle with. Then, like now, it seemed like he became utterly unaware of anything else in the room, except Seonghwa. He stood like that for a while, you don't remember how long exactly, but then abruptly excused himself.

This time you think it's about a full minute, a full sixty seconds of him staring, not moving an inch. And you can't stop staring too, at his face, trying to read what it all means. When he finally breaks his eyes away from Seonghwa he catches your gaze, and without a word makes for the door, walking himself back outside. You instantly stand up too, needing answers. As you exit the house you brush past Yunho, your eyes lingering for a moment on the way his shirt is stuck to his chest. You hear Ari telling Wooyoung to walk for everyone too, and when the boys complain that they're hungry you hear Woo tell them to make their own food for once. You head is full, so full of every possible feeling, as you break out into the hot air of the late afternoon. You spot Hongjoong sitting on a log in the distance, and march your way over.

"Can I talk to you?" you ask, not bothering to ask if you can sit.

"Hey, listen, I'm sorry about this morning," Hongjoong responds, looking caught out and overwhelmed.

"You don't seem like yourself today," you say, your voice almost stern. Normally you all let each other be, and normally you feel that's the best thing to do. But after the events of the morning, and your conversation with Seonghwa, you don't feel that way right now.

"Well, I don't feel like myself. I guess I haven't done a good job of hiding it," he says, sighing tensely.

"What's up?" you ask, eyeing him with your arms crossed. He sighs, turning his face away from you, staring off into the trees. He starts shaking his head, not making a sound.

"Joong, I'm sorry, but after the way you were acting towards me and Yunho this morning I'm really not in the mood to be nice. I know you might not want to talk to me about your feelings but I need to know why you were being so weird with us, and with Seonghwa. We deserve to know," you say.

"What does Seonghwa have to do with it?" he asks, still not looking at you, fidgeting nervously with his hands.

"Ok, honestly, just forget me and Yunho, I don't even really care at this point. I know you were being cold with Seonghwa all day, why?" you ask.

"Y/n, I..." Hongjoong trails off, taking in a sharp breath, not continuing. You give him a few moments to continue his thought but he just sits there, making you antsy.

"Okay if you're not going to talk, then I'm gonna make a guess at what's going on, and you can tell me if I'm right or if I'm wrong. You love him, don't you? But you don't want to get involved with him in any real way because you're scared? Or you can't for some other reason? But when you're here you basically treat him like he's your boyfriend, cuddling him to sleep at night, sneaking him outside to fuck the daylights out of him while everyone else is in watching a movie. But it's not just a sex thing, you love him. You see him all dolled up and think he's the most precious thing you've ever seen in your life. Am I right?"

Hongjoong looks up at you finally, looking like he's scared, like he wishes he could run away. But he knows you won't let the subject drop, and maybe deep down, he's wanted to talk to someone about this.

"You have to understand, my family..." he starts, visibly shaking.

"What about them, Joong? What do they have to do with Seonghwa?" you ask gently, hoping to finally coax something out of him. With a huge breath, he finally starts talking.

"Do you remember that first big makeup campaign Hwa was a part of? For that gender neutral makeup line? Maybe a month later, I remember walking with my parents to that corner store by their old house, and there Seonghwa was on the cover of a magazine. My dad started going on and on about how gross it was, men making themselves look feminine, how they all were demeaning themselves and just wanted to be girls and how mentally ill they must be. He was saying it was gross that 'that kind of mental illness is now being treated like it's normal.' He kept going on and on and on, the whole time we shopped. He didn't even realize that one of the people on the cover was my good friend from high school that he'd met multiple times. He didn't even recognize it was Seonghwa." Hongjoong stutters out the words, clearly on the verge of breaking down.

"Oh my god Joong, that's awful," you respond, so saddened that he'd never felt able to tell you this story until now.

"I love you guys, but none of the rest of you understand what it's like to have parents like that. I've spent my whole life wishing I could stop these feelings. It would even be easier if I was attracted to masculine men; I think my parents could get past that a bit more easily. It's the gender stuff they're really freaked out by, more than people being gay. But I can't help that I like guys who are pretty. I- I obviously love him, dude, god I know it's fucking obvious. I can't control myself around him. It's fucking embarrassing. And it scares me, because I'm scared one day someone who knows my family is gonna see me reacting that way to another man and go tell my parents." By this point he's shaking hard, a few tears rolling down his cheeks as he clearly tries desperately to control himself. You scoot yourself over so you're right next to him, hugging him into a warm embrace.

"Let yourself cry, your body probably needs it," you say, holding him tight. You feel his heart race, his body so tense as he clings onto you. You just let him cry for a few minutes, not needing to respond right away. Once he's calmed down a bit you both sit up, but you stay close to him.

"I'm so, so sorry your family is that way, I can't even begin to pretend I know what it's like," you start, speaking gently. "Only you know what is best when it comes to navigating your relationships with them. I'm not going to tell you what to do. But if your choice is that you can't date Seonghwa, no matter your feelings, you need to tell him that. And explain it. If you want to hook up with him sometimes, but not date, you need to tell him that. If you want to date him but keep it entirely secret from your family, you need to tell him that. Obviously he might not like some or any of those ideas, but still you need to tell him. Right now he's just confused, and has no idea how you feel. And he's not the one who has been so awful to you, so he doesn't deserve to be kept in the dark."

"I know," Hongjoong replies, hoarsely. "I'm just, not ready for him to hate me."

"He's not going to hate you, Hongjoong," you say.

"Really? If I tell him, hey, I think you're amazing and I love you and want to be with you but can we keep it a secret from like, most people? Just in case my insane family finds out because I'm scared of them even though I'm twenty-seven years old. How awful would that make him feel?" he asks.

"Joong, if you put it like that with no explanation, yeah he'd probably not feel great. But if you told him what you just told me, I think it would be different. Keeping him in the dark is what's really not okay, and I think you being hot and cold with him is really what might make him hate you," you respond.

You both sigh deeply, looking out across the wilderness. You see a squirrel running across the start of a small trail up ahead, grabbing a nut and darting back again. You wish for a moment that was you. A butterfly flutters low in front of you, briefly landing on the ground and turning around, before flying off again. You feel heavy with emotional exhaustion and wish badly you could fly off, if only just for a moment. Just to have a chance to forget everything that had happened today, to feel free of any burden. You sigh with the knowledge that you know it's not possible, that you'll just have to feel it.

"Dinner is ready, if you want food!" Ari calls from the back door, waving at you.

"We'll be there in a minute," you call back.

***

Dinner brings the refreshed energy you were hoping for, Jongho and Yeosang having cooked up a meal everyone loved. As you all eat and chat there's plenty of laughter, still plenty of compliments for Seonghwa and Wooyoung's makeup. You sit between Seonghwa and Yunho, your favorite spot to be, feeling a lot better seeing everyone around you back to their light-hearted conversation. You see Hongjoong on the other side of Seonghwa, offering him food and bringing him refills of his drink when he needs it. It takes you a while to realize it amongst all the chattering, but the only person who is still being silent is Yunho.

Even when you gently place your head on his shoulder after Ari makes you laugh, he basically shrugs you off. You look up at him confused, because he never really does that. You've always been able to hug him or lean on him whenever you felt like it. You see he doesn't look angry anymore, just very distant. Under the table you run your hand along his leg, trying to be comforting. He lets you for a moment but then grabs your hand, gently moving it back to your lap. As soon as he finishes his food he's off, making his way to the library. Soon you excuse yourself too; your body is pulled to him and you can't stop your feet pattering along the floor, walking you fast to go find him.

You find him standing against the wall, his gaze stuck intently on his phone. You grab it from him, gently placing it on the couch. Grabbing his arms and placing them around you, you pull yourself into his body.

"Stop being weird, hug me back," you say, nuzzling into his chest. Finally he relents, pulling you close, his body tense with something you've never felt in him before.

"What's wrong?" you ask, your voice slightly muffled by his chest.

"I'm- I'm sorry I'm not Seonghwa," he answers.

"What does that mean?" you ask as you turn your head up towards him. He is staring out the window over your head, his look very distant.

"I'm sorry I make you feel worse, not better, when you're sick," he says.

"That was just today, Yunho. Usually you do make me feel better," you say.

"But that's the thing, he knows exactly what to do, even when we're out here away from the hospital. How does he just know? I could never be as prepared as him," he sighs.

"Well, he knew he needed to get me hydrated, which is basically just what they do at the hospital with an IV. So he kept feeding me water, had Wooyoung make me soup. Just got a lot of fluids in me. He knows that stuff because we've talked about it, a lot. I can teach you all of those things too, if you want me to. It's not complicated," you reply.

Yunho takes in what you say but can't find words to respond, instead letting out a quiet groan as he closes his eyes, almost collapsing into you.

"What is it?" you ask, stroking your hand through his hair, his head resting on your shoulder.

"You just, have so much more fun with him than me, don't you?" he asks.

"No, I have fun with you both. Why are you thinking that?" you ask.

"Well just, today, with him, when I came in and you were like, putting makeup on him, hugging and kissing him, you looked happier than I've seen you in a while," he says.

"You make it sound like I was making out with him in front of everyone," you laugh, squeezing him tighter. "Of course Seonghwa makes me happy, he's like basically my best friend. And he takes care of me always, and I take care of him. Of course I was having fun. That doesn't mean I like him better than you," you finish. All you get is a grunt in response, as Yunho picks his head off your shoulder, standing straight again. "Do you wish I'd put makeup on you instead?" you ask, giggling, completely joking.

But then Yunho's face sort of freezes, except for his eyes which look down to yours, and then dart to the floor.

"Wait, really? You want me to put makeup on you?" you ask, genuinely surprised. He had never in his life shown interest in makeup, as far as you knew.

"It looked like it would feel nice," he says, looking slightly embarrassed, his voice quiet.

"This is so exciting," you smile, staring up at him with giddiness. "Can I do it now?" you ask.

"Uh, sure," he responds, taken aback a bit. You let out a squeal of happiness.

"Okay, sit right here on my bed, against the pillows. I'll be right back," you say, marching your way out of the room to find Ari. She is still sat in the living room, taking pictures of Wooyoung's makeup. She immediately goes and grabs her makeup bag at your request, helping you pick out the few things you need. You hug her in thanks, running quickly back to your room. The anticipation is killing you; you just want to see Yunho's beautiful face lit up with a smile again. You haven't seen one all day.

You situate yourself on his lap, your legs straddling his, your hips coming in close contact. You know it's not really necessary, but you're looking for any excuse to be touching him after you hadn't had the chance to all day. You set out the products Ari lent you on a shelf behind his head, slowly deciding what exactly you want to do. He's given you permission to do whatever you please, so you let your mind wander, thinking of what would look best on his high cheeks, his perfect lips. You decide to forgo any face makeup, his skin already perfect as is. As you begin applying some eyeshadow he closes his eyes, his head resting gently on the bookshelf behind him. With his eyes closed you finally feel able to say it, feel able to ask the question that had been dancing in the back of your mind all day, only surfacing now that you two were finally alone.

"Did you have your vasectomy reversed?"

He'd gotten one several years ago, during his last serious relationship. He'd mentioned it to you in passing, but you'd made a point of asking him more about it later. You'd never personally known any man who'd gotten one, and couldn't help your curiosity. He'd explained his girlfriend at the time couldn't take birth control, that it gave her bad mood swings. So he got it done for her peace of mind. Your respect for him grew even stronger that day.

"No. Why do you ask?" he responds, a mischievous grin on his lips.

"Cause you went and got a condom last night," you say, still not even sure where or who he got it from. "I thought maybe that was because you'd had it reversed, or something."

"That was because we hadn't had a chance to talk about safety," he says, gently opening his eyes when you remove the brush from his lid, picking up a different palette from the shelf. "I don't know if you've been sleeping with anyone, or if you've been tested recently. And you weren't exactly in a state to have that conversation last night. I just figured using a condom was the safe thing to do."

"I haven't slept with anyone in like, two years," you respond, picking out the next color you want to apply to his crease. "But still I had my gyno test my earlier this year for like, everything. I just wanted to be sure. And I'm clean."

"Me too," he says, closing his eyes again when you quietly ask him to, so you can continue your work. "I haven't slept with anyone in a while too, but I had myself tested a few months ago. Just to be sure, like you said. I'm all good too." You just smile, a contented haze falling around you at how thoughtful and safe he is when it comes to sex. It makes you feel safe, really safe, with him. "So next time we- if we have sex again, do you not want me to use one?" he asks you. He peeks open to see you nodding, your lips curled up in a shy smile. Your reaction makes blood rush to his dick, your slight embarrassment making his head spin. Deep down he knows you like dirty, nasty things, despite your sweet, unassuming exterior. You probably want him to do unspeakable things to you.

"You want to feel my cum leaking out of you, don't you," he asks, voice low with a chuckle. Your core clenches instantly, all of the muscles of your groin instantly tensing up. You turn your head away from him briefly, unable to hide your blushing cheeks and your teeth biting onto your lower lip. Your core tightening against him answers the question for you, making Yunho even harder. "I didn't realize you liked that sort of thing," he says, a hand snaking up your thigh and coming to rest on your ass. It's now that he realizes you truly don't have anything on underneath his hoodie, and you haven't all day. He can feel the heat of your bare core through his sweats, as you start grinding yourself down on him more, your body taking over control of your movements.

"I like a lot of... things," you respond, your voice breathy with how turned on you're getting. Yunho nearly groans at your words, imagining just how many 'things' there are. He grabs your face and pulls you into a deep kiss, his head still slightly higher than yours despite your position. That makes his head spin too, how even sat on his lap you are shorter than him. He turns his head further to the side, coaxing your mouth open with his tongue, his hand on your ass guiding you to keep rubbing yourself against him. On his tongue you taste the sweet and savory flavors of dinner; you devour him like you haven't eaten in days, like he's your last hope of survival. You feel his dick getting hard beneath you, rubbing yourself along it while imaging it inside you. He grabs you tightly against him, pushing his tongue even further into your mouth, making you feel light headed with arousal. You're trying to keep your noises at bay, trying desperately not to make the sounds that you made last night. You chase the pleasure that grinding against him is giving you, but the anticipation is too much, and you need relief from it now. You push your hips back momentarily, setting down the brush in your hand to yank at his sweat pants, pulling them down just enough to let his cock spring free of the material. You move yourself forward, your pussy already so wet and ready for him. You truly don't want to waste any more time, you can't. You sink yourself down onto him, in one slow, fluid motion, sighing at the relief of having him fully seated inside of you.

"Fuck, baby," he whispers into your mouth, his lips on yours again, leaning himself forward and grabbing you tight so your bodies couldn't be any closer. You moan at how big he is, the feeling of relief also mixing with one of slight discomfort, at just how much you're being stretched.

"I can't move, I need a second," you whisper back, your eyes closed tightly in pleasure. He brushes a hand over your cheek, kissing the other, pulling back slightly to give you the moment you need. It makes him even harder seeing how much you are reacting to his size, another example of how small you are compared to him. He gently rubs a hand along your back underneath his hoodie, doing everything he can think of to help you relax. You're breathing slowly through your nose, clearly trying to calm your body, but your hips are moving every so slightly, your body still not able to stop chasing what it wants.

You open your eyes to look at him, his own eyes filled with lust and adoration, and the look makes your insides melt. But you can't help noticing your unfinished work; only one of his eyes has completed eye shadow, and a small gem at the corner bringing it all together.

"Can I finish your makeup?" you ask him, pouting.

"Now?" he responds, smiling in amusement.

"Yeah," you pout again, wishing it all looked complete.

"Okay," he nods, huffing out a laugh. He anchors his hands on your hips as you reach to grab the palette again, your pussy still so tight around him. He breathes deeply himself now, trying to keep his own desperation from hurting you or interrupting your wishes. But as you start applying the makeup again, your hands brushing gently over his skin, his closed eyes heightening every sensation, he can't help but buck his hips into you slightly, making you both moan instantly. He keeps his hands set on your hips tightly and starts rocking them back and forward, not moving you up and down his shaft so much as grinding yourself into him, the changes in pressure feeling shockingly good. You do your best to keep your upper body steady, as you finally complete the eye shadow on his second eye, sitting back to double check the symmetry. All that's left now is applying the gem, but your little noises and faces have nearly sent Yunho over the edge and he starts fucking himself up into you, holding your hips steady. You hold onto his shoulders, trying to keep yourself from falling as immense waves of pleasure wash over you. You look at his face again, his mouth agape in pleasure, his eyes looking so pretty framed by the makeup you'd applied. But still, the incompleteness eats at you.

"I can't- fuck- finish your makeup if you're fucking me like that," you say, breathless and struggling to get out such a long sentence.

"I don't really care about the makeup anymore," he says, eyes scanning down your body to watch his cock entering you over and over and stretching you out.

"It's just one more thing, let me finish," you whine, using your own momentum to try to slow his movements.

"Fuck, baby, okay," he groans, closing his eyes and breathing deeply to try to steady his rapid heart rate. His cock is throbbing with pleasure now, and with no barrier between you he can feel everything about you, just how warm and tight and wet your pussy is, squeezing down on him. He's not sure how long he can stay like this, but he wants to let you do what you want, so he begs his own body to behave, to deal with it. You shakily grab the gem, the adrenaline in your body making it nearly impossible as you almost drop it. Your body lurches forward for a second when you grab for it, making your core tighten down again and making Yunho feel like he's about to come undone. Finally you dab on the tiny spec of glue, and finally you place the gem on his face, just where you need it. Again you sit back for a moment to check the symmetry, and Yunho eyes your face intensely, waiting with baited breath for the moment he can finally move again.

"Okay, it's done," you say, a pleased smile on your face. It takes Yunho only a second to grab onto your back with one arm, anchoring himself with his other arm to his side. Suddenly you're in the air and then on your back, met the softness of your blanket. Yunho desperately grabs at his hoodie, pulling it over your head in one motion, throwing it to the side as he pulls off his own shirt with just one hand. His mouth is on yours, his chest and stomach pressed against you as he fucks you hard, his cock repeatedly hitting the perfect spot inside of you. Almost instantly your legs start shaking, your orgasm building fast and threatening to rip through you after all of the teasing before. Your breaths become too ragged for kissing, your head turned to the side as you desperately try not to moan like you did last night, not wanting to upset anyone again. Yunho lifts himself up to watch you, sitting himself up on his knees and putting your ankles on his shoulders, still fucking into you hard, the change in angle making your legs start to shake even more.

"Fuck, Yunho," you moan, feeling so fucked out you can't think of anything else but him. It only takes a few more moments and you're coming undone; your legs shake so much Yunho has to hold them tight, feeling the muscles of your cunt flutter and clench beautifully around him. He fucks you through it, loving to see the look on your face and the way you're trying so hard to be quiet. As he feels the fluttering stop he slows his thrusts a little, not wanting to stop too soon.

"Do you want another one?" he asks, his huge hands wrapped tightly around your legs still. You nod your head with a small smile, feeling like you could take him for hours if he wanted you to. "You'll have to keep it down for me then, even if it feels really good," he says, making you cover your face in embarrassment. Once again, your tightening core communicates for you, Yunho able to read you so well. "I know you like it when I talk to you like that," he says, making you squeal into your hands.

And then he's fucking you again, your legs still in the air, the angle making you come again in mere moments, as you bite down on your hand to keep from making too much noise. Yunho can tell your body can take more now, so he keeps going, feeling his own high approaching as you come for the third time in a row.

"God, I love fucking you," he whispers, his throat tight with pleasure. You feel the need for him to be close again, after coming so many times, so you wiggle your legs until he releases them, and pull at him to come down to you. He nearly collapses on top of you as he buries his face in your hair, his ragged breaths resounding in your ear. You bite down on his shoulder, the only way you can keep yourself from screaming, and suddenly you're coming again. So is Yunho, his hips finally stuttering from their diligent pace, his breathy groans uncontrollable as he cums harder than he ever has. You feel his cum inside you, filling you with warmth, making you wrap your arms and legs around him in a giant hug. As you both come down you stay stuck together, your mind a complete haze of pleasure and happiness.

"That wasn't too much, was it?" he asks you, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek and pushing himself up to get a good look at your face.

"Not at all, it was so good," you murmur, smiling wide. "Sometimes my body can take a lot."

"You're so beautiful," he says, staring at your perfect nose and lips and eyes in wonder.

"You're so beautiful," you respond, stretching your head up to kiss him. After a few more lazy moments spent wrapped around each other, Yunho grabs a pillow, tucking it under your lower back before he starts to finally pull out of you.

"Try to hold it in, I've got a towel right over there," he says, making you laugh. As you hold yourself still he darts to grab it, back to the bed in a second to start cleaning you up. As he dabs at your pussy he sees a few drops of his cum have escaped you, dripping down your ass and onto the bed below. It's so hot it almost makes him hard again, as he sits mesmerized by the sight. Knowing that there's so much still in you, that it'll be dripping out of you all night as you both sleep, makes him feel light headed. You're so tired you don't even see, your eyes closed as you nearly drift off already, your body needing rest after your hectic day. He gently moves you to the side of the bed you like, quickly wiping himself down before crawling into bed with you. You both fell asleep wrapped around each other again, his cum slowly dripping out of you and down your leg where you find it dried the next morning, a welcome reminder of your previous night.

[bitchimasnake-sss]

bitchimasnake-sss presents: the one piece AUs [cause i want these men in every universe]

01. i serve! (my ex's head on a platter) ft. roronoa zoro!

brought to you by my current hyperfixation with challengers and zendaya. set-up: you've worked your ass off; early mornings, late nights, diets, workouts, everything. only to still to fall in the shadow of the current badminton world champion and your ex: roronoa zoro. bitter, agitated and absolutely exhausted, you had decided to never see him or even think of him again. but when an email from his coach dracule mihawk finds you, proposing you and zoro team up for the upcoming mixed doubles champion's cup, can you refuse? here's part 02 cw: smut, angst and dumb shenanigans! warnings: dumb people even dumber plot by me <3 zoro is a pain in the ass. nsfw includes: oral (f!receiving), penetration, doin' the do raw, more angst and more shenanigans. did i mention zoro is a pain? yeah that. mdni, shoo now. wc: 9.4k [IM SORRY I PUT TOO MUCH EFFORT INTO IT] m.list

13th of june, 10:02 a.m

"i didn't think you would come."

"me neither."

you felt dracule mihawk's gaze study you as if you were an opponent on the court, eyeing every little movement from the involuntary twitch of your fingers to the shallow breaths you heaved out. an unease crept against your throat and made a residence in there as you stood at the entrance to the kuraigana mansion, waiting for the retired world champion to say anything.

by anything, you didn't exactly expect pleasantries.

"how have you been?" mihawk's face eased, a shallow smile carving itself against his usual vampire-ish appearance.

"just fine." you replied back coolly, "and you, sir?"

"ah, you know, the usual. tournaments, training zoro." his words stilled at the mention of his moss-haired son-turned-student and he eyed you motionless face.

if mihawk wanted you to give away anything about how you felt about zoro, he was setting himself up for failure. although the mere mention of the man's name made your skin crawl and fill you with bugs, you simply smiled, "i heard he won the last men's singles in france, congratulations."

"the praise is reserved for the player, not me." mihawk stepped aside, slowly beckoning you in, "well, come on in, then."

you stepped after him into the castle-like mansion. kuraigana residence. the interiors were classic black and white with random, almost-haphazard pops of pink and purple sprinkled in, probably perona's influence on her otherwise classy father's tastes.

"looking for someone?" the man enquired, not turning around to look at you as he guided you through the main entrance.

"no." you replied quickly before putting on a faux smile, "just admiring the interiors. you have a wonderful home, sir."

"thank you. credit goes to that enigmatic child of mine, perona." the man replied modestly, now taking you through the main living room. the room was huge. littered with two black couches, a large flatscreen, coffee-table, a table tennis table that didn't match the aesthetic whatsoever, with art plastered on each otherwise barren, white wall.

"are you home alone?" mindlessly, you looked around again, perhaps hoping to catch a glimpse of a certain dreadful man.

"zoro is out with a couple of friends—"

"—i meant perona."

"well," mihawk sighed, now leading you into the gigantic kitchen, "you know her. she hates to stay home for more than two days. she's in milan right now, working with a label." he pointed to the seat near the marble kitchen island, "have you been in touch with perona?"

"no," you admitted casually as you sat atop one of the many seats, as he stood opposite to you on the other side of he island, "i mean, we follow each other on instagram, that's about it. we were never really close."

"i see." mihawk grabbed two wine-glasses, perching them on the table before pulling out a unopened wine bottle from the top cupboard, "wine?"

"i'm off alcohol for the season." you answered politely, and left out the fact that it was ten in the morning.

the man hummed a faint yes before pouring himself a glass full of familiar, maroon-hued liquid. he sipped in a drink, eyeing yourself before keeping the glass back on the marble, "well that's enough chit-chat, let's cut to the chase."

you perked up, elbows propped on the island as he continued, "i presume you got my mail."

"of course."

"then you know that i want you and zoro to team up for the upcoming doubles championship."

"i do." your fingers clasped together, chin resting atop them. you took a steadying breath, "and my answer is no."

mihawk crocked up an eyebrow as you continued, "it was always gonna be a no, sir. you are- were like a father to me, and that's the only reason i dignified your request with an actual visit. it does not change the fact that i will not team up with roronoa zoro."

"calling him by his legal name?" mihawk mused, "i thought he was 'zo to you. he only let you call him that, anyways."

that was in the past, though, wasn't it? years before he was number one in the men's category and you were at two in the women's category. years before he started pretending as if he had never known you. years before you showed up at his house only to turn down the offer to play alongside him.

"we are nothing more than strangers, i'm afraid."

the man hummed as he gulped down the rest of his drink alongside your words. as he poured himself another glass, he continued, "i have to be honest. my request is a bit more selfish than what i'm letting on."

he paused as you straightened up, "i'm retiring from the position of his coach after the doubles champions' tournament." you stared at the older man as he continued, "this is his last tournament with me as his coach."

"does zo- roronoa know?"

"not yet. he needs to focus on the game." mihawk shrugged, tipping his glass towards you, "and you and him both know i am at the age where i should move away to italy and open my own wine cellar, rather than running around on the court."

a laugh escaped you at the absurdity of mihawk's request, "what are you suggesting, sir? roronoa doesn't need me to win, he is capable enough to with with anybody."

he's the bloody number one, isn't he?

"you won the champions cup last year with that kid law, did you not? i would rather take the chances with you than somebody else."

you stilled, thinking of a flattering response before spewing out, "i only won because roronoa did not play last year, sir. the competition was slim, and me and law made a good team."

mihawk set his glass down, "don't try to sell yourself short. you are not inferior to zoro, we both know that."

maybe. but you would not team up with that bastard. not ever.

you dragged your seat backwards, standing up, "i am afraid it is still a no, sir. and if you do not want me as an opponent, i would happily withdraw from this year's tournament." you bowed, "thank you for having me over."

mihawk called out your name as you turned your back on him, "i would never beg, you know that. but zoro needs you to win." you looked over your shoulder at the older man, "and i need him to win this time, no matter what. do it for this old man, for old time's sake."

for old time's sake, is it?

you looked away from the man, letting his words turn sour against your skin. a sigh escaped you, "fine. we can discuss the details through my manager. but—" you turned around, casting a sharp glance at the coach, "—i am doing this only for your sake, mihawk. nothing more, nothing less."

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

16th of june, 7:52 a.m.

three days later, you were clad in your practice set, and the duffel bag with your equipment felt heavier than usual in your right hand as you run the doorbell to the kuraigana residence.

the winds were unkind, the clouds were greying and ashy, a clear reflection of your spirit as a certain moss-head opened the door. your gaze tangled against his, and for a second you felt as if somebody punched you in the gut and left you paralysed, and a seventeen year old with a broken heart again.

he was so much prettier than he seemed on camera. tousled moss hair, a scar on his eye from when you were kids and a crooked smile that he gave the cameras when he won. fucking bastard. you couldn't wait to break a badminton racket on his stupid head. put him in a fucking coma.

so what if you both didn't win? you would kill him. yes, that will satiate your hunger. prison be damned.

a wayward shock running down your spine as you moved past him and inside the mansion. wordless.

"wh-what are you doing here?" his throat seemed to have gone dry as he hurriedly walked after you, carefully avoiding saying your name lest you were a demon he could summon.

"what?" you asked as you made your way to the living room, never once turning around lest you see his face and start punching him, "what do you mean why am i here? don't you know?"

"no?" irritation snipped at the raw edges of his words, "why are you here?"

your eyes widened in part amusement, part astonishment. is he dumb? is he actually clueless? that's roronoa zoro for you, i suppose.

"she's your partner." mihawk replied coolly from where he sat on the sofa, "for the mixed doubles campion's cup."

"HER?!" his voice cracked, eyes widening as he peered down at his own father, "DAD?!"

the annoyance in his voice set you aflame and you stared down at mihawk aswell, "you didn't tell him, sir?"

"well, i did." mihawk answered nonchalantly, sipping down wine slowly, "didn't i tell you, zoro? that your partner would be coming today to practice?"

"you didn't tell me it was her." he grumbled, and your blood pressure rose as you stared down mihawk, "sir, i would not team up with such a fucking idiot."

"zoro, do not behave like a hooligan—"

zoro whipped his neck to look at you, his jaw locked and eyes narrowed, "who are you calling a fucking idiot?"

you craned your neck to stare him down in return, "you."

zoro stepped forward towards his father and pointed accusatorily towards you, his earrings chiming ever-so-softly, "i am not teaming up with her."

"me neither." you grumbled, stepping forward to match his stance, "i take back what i said, i cannot partner up with him! he's insufferable."

but mihawk stared down the both of you and for a moment, you both were two sixteen year olds who just got caught making out in his room instead of adults in your twenties about to go for a international champion's cup.

"are you both gonna behave as adults or do i need to give you a stern lecture?" mihawk asked coolly.

"'m sorry, dad." zoro mumbled and you joined him as you both stared down at the floor, "i'm sorry too, sir."

the coach stood up, "apologize to each other. now."

zoro gave you a side-eye, "sorry."

"hm. sorry."

"much better. no animosity should linger between partners." mihawk put down the glass, "onto practicing we go, now. zoro lead her to the indoor court, i would be there soon."

indoor court? what the fuck.

zoro refused to dignify you with anything as you both walked through a maze of hallways that finally opened into a proper, full-sized indoor court.

"shit." you mumbled as you took in the open roof of the court. the grey overhead clouds casted a gloomy look on the court. zoro grumbled something under his breath before switching on a button which closed the metallic roof with a soft creak.

what the fuck.

well, soon enough, you realized two very important things: first, this mansion was insane. and second, roronoa zoro was number one for a reason.

you were heaving, chest rising and falling so rapidly that it felt as if your lungs and heart would burst inwards and paint you red. your calf muscles pulsed mercilessly as sweat dripped down your eyebrow and onto the flat plane of your cheeks. blinded by exhaustion, you tried to match the movements of the man opposite to you.

he was tired but he was graceful.

roronoa zoro was heaving, sweat trailing down his hair and neck and disappearing down his black shirt. but his gaze was focused, his steps ever-so-calculated as he ran from one end of the court to the other, and as he shot down the shuttle, the muscles in his bicep rippled and came alive with a strange delight.

"zoro, don't run so much. you have nothing to prove, you look like an idiot and you would exhaust yourself." mihawk noted, his voice booming between the sounds of the air being sliced by your shots and the soft sounds of pants and groans.

mihawk called out your name next, "do not restrain your arms. think of the racket as an extension of yourself, and allow your hands to move freely. hit harder. taking it easy gets us nowhere."

"i am trying." you grit through your teeth, trying to expend force as you hit back the shuttle with all your might.

zoro moved backwards, his arms being pulled back before he hit the shuttle back to your left. you attempted to run, to catch the shuttle before it fell to the court, but your right calf cramped up and your feet wobbled as you lost your footing and fell down.

"that's enough." mihawk concluded, "this is enough practice for today."

you allowed yourself to lay down on the court, holding your pulsating calf to your chest and panting through your mouth as the oxygen slowly flooded your muscles and eased your body up.

"are you okay?" mihawk asked you as he stood above you, peering you down with his hawk-like eyes. you nodded yes with a red face and tembling lips, assuring him you were fine.

as you stared up at the ceiling, you heard zoro pick up his duffel and walk out of the court without even as much of a "good game" or a "are you okay?" and it was crystal clear how far ahead roronoa zoro was, because you were on the ground trying to catch your breath while he was whistling and walking back to his room without as much of a water break.

fuck. lot of work to be done before you could kill that asshole.

"perhaps, you should stay here." mihawk suggested as you finally pulled yourself up and he offered you a bottle of water.

you spluttered on the liquid and some of it dribbled down your lips uncharacteristically, "wh-hat? here?"

"you would have to come in every morning," he answered back, "there is no point in travelling everyday now, is there? we have many spare bedrooms."

"i-" you wiped the sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand, looking up at the coach with furrowed brows, "i don't know, sir."

"we have spare rooms in the west wing, and zoro's room is in the east wing." mihawk crossed his arm, "the rest is your decision, of course."

you sighed, "is it really my decision?"

"no. a room has been set for your already." mihawk shrugged, "i thought you would agree for this old man's sake."

"jesus fucking christ, you're good at emotional blackmailing."

8:31 p.m.

"i don't understand why she's here." zoro grumbled as he munched on his dinner.

"because it is pointless for her to come and go every day," mihawk dabbed his lips with a white cloth, "and do not talk when you're eating."

"so i need to see her face everyday?"

"can you stop talking about me as if i'm not here?" you glared at man sitting opposite to you, "i don't want to see you face everyday either."

zoro smiled so politely that it made you want to rip his hair out of his scalp with a kitchen knife. prison be fucking damned.

"then, leave."

"i swear on any god—"

"—what? what do you swear? if you're asking favours from god, maybe ask for getting better at badminton." the man scoffed, thoroughly happy with his own little jab.

"mihawk," you glared daggers at zoro, "if i kill roronoa, would you turn me in to the police?"

"of course he will." zoro squinted.

you squinted back at the athelete, "no, he can just adopt me and forget about you instead. he likes me better, anyways."

"oh, does he?" zoro quipped up rhetorically and mihawk shrugged, dabbing his lips before admitting a casual "she is quite lovely."

"dad!—"

a cashmere grin, eyes never leaving the athlete. "thank you, sir."

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

3rd of august, 11:07 a.m.

the next few weeks were a strange repetition, days filled only with three characteristic things: first, you woke up at five in the morning, practiced with a very-angry zoro (because god knows how much he resents those five am alarms) till you were about to pass out. second, ate food that their divinely gifted chef made. and third, bickered with zoro like a child.

"who the fuck puts a table-tennis table in the living room? money clearly cannot buy some sense of design." you glared at him as he glared right back at you. mihawk was out, the house was eerily quiet and you two had just finished up with the first practice session of the day, the adrenaline still pumping high through your mortal bodies.

"how do you know i put it in here?"

"'cause perona actually understands decor? you are the directionless idiot."

"okay. not that i have to explain to you but— first of all, it's practical for when my friends come over." he paused, thinking, "oh, do you know what friends are? they are people that voluntarily hang out with you and like—"

"oh, so funny." you mockingly laughed before crossing your arms in front of your chest. the sportsman momentarily stared down at your chest. jesus christ. he was reeled back into reality, quickly looking away and pretending to hit a mosquito. there are no mosquitoes here. a blushed crept up his face, to the tips of his ears, "yeah, i know. i'm funny."

"doesn't excuse your poor fucking decor skills."

"well, for starters, i can do what i want because it's my house—"

"—your dad's."

"and you are living in my house."

"because your dad asked me to because he likes me better."

"i-" his jaw was clenched shut as he stepped forward. his face hovered mere inches away from yours, his breath ragged as his gaze slowly cascaded down to your lips. his breath staggered helplessly, eyes quickly darting upwards to stare you in the eyes, "why don't you go and practice? get on my fucking level instead of bitching and moaning about meaningless shit?"

ah, you had almost forgotten how quickly his saccharine words turned sour. you had almost forgotten how well-versed roronoa zoro was in destruction, whether at the court or with your heart.

a certain ache built up in your chest as you pushed him back, and for a moment you both were sixteen, having your first fight all over again. except he was taller now, his eyes hardened and his tongue sharp enough to cut through you instead of kissing you sweetly and making amends.

your lips trembled, glaring up at him as you stepped closer to the man you had once been disillusioned enough to believe you knew, "fuck you, roronoa."

"roronoa? we're being formal now?" he stared down at you, eyes boring down in yours as he held himself off with barely tangible threads of sanity. his voice was barely a whisper when he spoke again, "didn't realize that's what you called me."

"i call you nothing, let me make that clear. we are not friends nor acquaintances, strangers is all."

well, strangers don't know how it feels to kiss someone in a poorly-lit room and taste of reckless first-times and childhood innocence, they do not know of each other's long-forgotten dreams, and they certainly don't look at each other as if the only thing holding them back was their own wounded prides.

you walked past him, your shoulder brushing against his bicep as your quick steps led you away from him and into the room you had temporarily come to call home.

fuck roronoa zoro.

11:02 p.m.

you refused to go out of your room for lunch, or for dinner for that matter.

had you been a greater woman, perhaps you would have walked out, kept that conversation behind you for the next two and a half weeks, and simply focus on winning. had you been a lesser woman, perhaps you would have locked your door and cried into your sheets about anything and everything roronoa zoro.

but you did neither.

you sat on your bed and stared down the spotless ceilings, trying to come up with ideas to kill that man without ever getting caught. well no, prison be damned. orange wasn't such an awful colour anyways. if trump could make it work, so could you.

your phone buzzed, and the low rumbling pulling you out of the symphony of wicked thoughts that begged you to either go kill zoro or kiss him so hard that he forgets he belongs to this mortal plane — both ideas that would ultimately land you playing a gamble with death. you picked up the device only to come face-to-face with an email from your manager asking for updates.

to: ynlnbiz@gmail.comfrom: vsanjibiz@gmail.com do you want me to kill him? for legal reasons, this is a joke. update me on how things go. don't lose your radiance over that moss-head.

"fuck," your voice was soft as your feet hit the carpeted floors, eyes locked at the time. 11:02.

although your pride held up to the resolve to starve yourself of any human contact, your stomach sadly didn't wish to comply. an embarrassing rumble made you well-aware of your hunger and you decided with a defeated sigh to go down and beg the chef for whatever he could make you at this time of the night.

you walked to the door, opening it slowly as you came face to face with—

"you?" your pupils were blown wide open, taking in a the image of a guilty-looking zoro halfway-crouched at your door, "you."

your palm found purchase against your hips, face in an easy scowl, "what the fuck do you want, now?"

"nothing?" he argued back haughtily, pulling himself to his feet hastily, "i- i was going to the bathroom."

"on the opposite wing of the mansion?" your eyes drifted down to his hands where he held a white plastic bag, "with a whole grocery bag in your hand?"

"yes?" he clutched the bag tighter, "and it's none of your business."

you gave him a look he was well-versed in. a look that practically begged him to drop this act of nonchalance and come clean. a look roronoa zoro crumbled under.

the sportsman shifted on his feet, his eyes drifting downwards to your feet as he slowly held out the bag towards you. when he spoke, his voice was matter-of-factly, "you didn't eat today."

"huh?—" you clutched the plastic in your palms, peering down to look at two packets of familiar cup noodles, a six pack of beer and a toblerone thrown in for good measure. you looked up at the man as a strange feeling made home in your veins. warmth?

you stared at the packaging, dumbfounded, "cup noodles?"

"i- i don't know if you still like these ones." he admitted softly, gaze still avoiding yours, "but i heard you said you liked these in... in one of those interviews in the last women's singles, uh the one in tokyo—"

"you watched my match?"

his fingers twitched, "no. whatever, if you don't like it, i can just take it away—"

"—how did you think i did?"

the tokyo finals were against the number one in the female category: boa hancock. beauty, grace, talent: everything good and holy found a home in her, it seemed. because at the end of the match, she defeated you with a neck-to-neck match. your 20 points to rival her 22 points. her number one title to rival your number two.

roronoa zoro finally met your eyes, a proud wayward glint in his eyes that gnawed at your insides, and a simple "you did good."

"i lost."

"doesn't refute the fact that you did good."

"if i had done good, i would have won."

"don't talk bullshit." he crossed his arms, eyebrow arched and shoulder leaning against the doorframe. the muscle bulged under his navy blue shirt, earrings glittering cautiously in the dim light as his words cut through your flimsy counterattacks, "you did well, so, take the compliment. it's not about winning, it's about getting better. you did way better than last year's sweden semi-finals."

"you saw sweden too?" you asked softly, the disbelief in your voice evident in your face, tainting your pretty features a murky shade of confused.

but zoro refused to answer what was obvious, instead rambling on about the actual game, "your shots have gotten a lot more crisper since sweden. your breath control has gotten better, and your wrist work too. not to mention that—"

"—roronoa." you halted him, "what if you lose this tournament 'cause of me?"

"we're playing as a team. if we win, we both win. if we lose, we both lose." he didn't bother comforting you. just laid the truth bare in front of you, "simple as that."

"would you... hate me? if we lost, i mean?"

his face shifted, something inkling to the ghost of a smile on his lips, "how could i ever hate you?"

what the fuck.

your gaze betrayed you as it found a home against his lips. you mind begged for answers. why did he know all that, how did he know all that, why did he fucking care? and most importantly why were you not listening to his helpful advice, instead admiring his pretty eyes and the scar that ran across them.

zoro stopped himself, features going still as he propped himself back and stood up straight. he cleared his throat and hid his features under an usual cloak of nonchalance. the sportsman nodded to the plastic bag, "just eat, and sleep soon. we need to be up early. don't think dad's gonna let us off the hook cause we were fighting in the middle of the night."

you stared at him, a furious blush building up in your cheeks, "right, thanks." you looked down at the contents again, "but you brought me two packs and six beers?"

"and a toblerone." scrambling to find an excuse, the mosshead tripped over his own words, "i– well, i mean you must be hungry. are you not? of course, you are, right? if you don't want it, you don't have to eat it."

"no, it's just— uh, do you wanna come in?" you paused, "i... don't think I can finish six beers alone."

he stood before you dumbstruck. 5'10 of muscle and flesh and skin, standing before you with a flabbergasted look in his eyes. as if he didn't want that with every inch of his body and soul. but he was a man of great restraint, so, he shook his head, "thanks, but uh— we both need to be up early tomorrow."

your throat went dry, your words as it barely audible, "of course, see you."

"hm, yeah. g'night." he grew awkward, thumbing his earring just to have something to do, "i just didn't want you to get the wrong idea— like you know, we shouldn't fight among ourselves—"

"—no animosity between partners, as mihawk says?"

"something like that, yeah." he sighed, and you found yourself being kicked in the face by whatever self-esteem you had left. of course, he was just making amends. your wretched heart and it's stupid daydreams be damned. "okay then, i'm sorry for the morning. and uh, 'night."

"'night." he turned, ready to leave and his name left your lips before you could register what was happening, "zoro—?"

he turned around immediately, an apprehensive plea in his eyes, "yeah?"

"i—" you fished for the chocolate and held it in your hands, "you can have this, i don't really like it."

he took the bar, ideally turning it in his palm, "i thought you liked these?"

"used to. five years ago. i'm not seventeen anymore." you pressed your lips into a thin line, "people change."

"uh, yeah, i guess they do." a pause, "or maybe they... don't?"

that was the last (luke)warm conversation you had with roronoa zoro. days passed you by as did a rigorous, drilling schedule. wake up, practice, practice, practice, sleep. but hey! two and a half weeks of this and you would walk home with another champion's cup to your name, so, how bad can it possibly be?

that moss-for-brains asshole was a problem for two and a half week later you. yes. indeed. indeed.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

21st of august, 9:51 a.m.

you let out a shuddering breath, adrenaline pumping through your veins and hands gripping the handle tighter. you took a step backward, positioning yourself as zoro stood to your right, ready to serve the shot.

the sound of his racket slicing the air rang through the court as the shuttle made it's way over the net and onto your opponent's side. the woman in front of you lunged forward, shooting the shuttle back towards you.

mixed doubles champion's cup. barcelona, spain. finals. you and roronoa zoro vs. ino takuma and nobara kugisaki. your 19 points vs. their 17 points in the third round. just two more and you'd win the cup.

your arm pulled backwards, right foot behind your left, head tipped back as you smashed the shuttle back into their side towards where ino stood, ready. the shuttle whirled past his racket by a hairsbreadth and fell down on the court.

"20 love." the umpire announced pointing to you and zoro, and then to the rival team, "17 love."

just one more.

"fuck yeah." zoro gave you a feral smile. his hair was drenched, sweat slowly dripping off of his jawline. he moved forward, a new shuttle in his palm and he got ready to serve again, the jersey with roronoa on it crinkled and sticking to his back. he looked over his shoulder, giving you a nod, "ready?"

"fuckin' hope so." you huffed out, nodding slowly and backing to take your position.

the shuttle left your side of the court, tearing through air and onto their side. the air was tense, the audience growing impatient as both the teams lunged to their left and right to land definitive shots. ino takuma took a step back, jumping upwards as he delivered a smash that whirled past your cheekbone and landed on the court, "fuck."

"18 love." the umpire declared, "and 20 love."

just one more.

you walked over to zoro, and he wiped his forehead off with the back of his hand. his face was angled downwards, words right against the shell of your ear, "'s fine, we're leading. we're winning."

just one more.

the next few minutes were a battle on the court. flicks of wrist, sweat trailing down your back, the feel of feet shuffling on court as you and zoro worked in sync. his shots to your steps and your shots to his, as the team opposite to you kept up their assault.

your feet moved to their own accord, skidding forward before you jumped upwards. your racket made contact with the shuttle and you smacked it down with every bit of force you had. your breath was caught in your throat, heart beating loudly, blood rushing past your eardrums as you saw kugisaki fumble and drop the shuttle.

just one more.

a roar went through the audience, mihawk yelling out in an uncharacteristic manner, and you found yourself sinking to your knees. the court felt cold and sturdy against your knees, relief washed over your shuddering form and wayward tears pooled at the edge of your eyes. your gaze lifted up, and within the blindness from the overhead lighting, you found zoro giving you the smallest of nods with a reckless smile plastered to his lips.

and then roronoa zoro proceeded to ignore you for the rest of the evening. the problem for two and a half week later you was here. fuck.

12:44 p.m.

you glanced at the man next to you through your eyelashes. how he looked annoyed and shook his head, how those cursed earrings chimed as he answered a question that the press asked, how he ignored you for the nth hour of the night.

the fucker didn't even thank you or appreciate you to your face the entire day. what a bitch.

"is it true, then?" the reporter's bangs moved enthusiastically, "are the rumors of you dating true? everyone seems to notice that the air seems charged between the two of you."

"of course not," zoro leaned into the mic, his eyes boring holes into that reporter before he chased it away with a polite smile, "those are just rumors. we're just partners." he looked at you once, twice, "right?"

"yeah." you answered, monotone. "just rumors. having him in the same team was taxing enough for me, mentally. i cannot imagine him as a boyfriend."

the reporter grinned, as if having found something worth exaggerating, "so, was having him as a partner hard? would you say law was much better?" as the mention of the brunette, you noticed zoro pick up one of the water-bottles in front of him and attempt to crush it. the reporter paused, "and you, roronoa? was it hard for you too?"

"well, we've had our differences." he crossed his arms, letting go of the poor, unassuming bottle. was he hoping his biceps would distract the crowd of rightfully-thirsty ladies? slut.

"but the most important part of any doubles game is team-work." he continued, without even giving you half a glance, "and without her, i would have failed to win. that much is for sure."

"isn't that sweet?" the woman cooed.

isn't that sweet? no. no it is not.

"so would you partner up with each-other? are we gonna see more of this dynamic duo?"

"ah," zoro looked at you, at a loss of words. you leaned into the mic, plastering on a smile, "we'd see where fate leads us."

12:03 a.m.

fate led you here.

you stared at your phone as another headline caught your eye: turns out badminton is more than a clash of rackets, it's a clash of hearts! find our the story of roronoa zoro and his partn—

the only clashing will be of a plate against that bastard's head.

you scrolled further, just to run into another headline: roronoa zoro admits feelings in press conference after the match. click to—

your fingers hovered over the link, almost opening the headline just to confirm if they saw the same press conference as you. cause there were no feelings anywhere there. right? right.

then another: love island? no! it's the champion's cup! catch the story of team-mates turned lovers—

"—what bullshit." you huffed, scrutinizing the photo under the headline that depicted you looking at zoro as he answered some question with the caption "lovesick gaze."

you threw your phone to the side and it bounced twice before falling fce-down. a pathetic groan left your lips as you dragged your palm over your face.

you should be celebrating, getting drunk somewhere maybe? or you should be sleeping, feeling satisfied after the big win. instead, you were rotting in your bed, staring at the ceilings wondering what was the easiest way to ensure you never saw your ex again. this was a one time affair, after all. all because mihawk asked you—

knock knock knock.

your feet hit the wooden floors, absentmindedly walking to the door. did you order room service? maybe they wanted to give you a cake to celebrate you? or—

"—r-roronoa?" your words died in your throat as you stared down the man in front of you. he was dressed in a casual navy t-shirt and black sweats. his hair was wet, strands sticking to his forehead, and he held a bored look on his face. "do you want something?"

"can i come in?"

he looked tipsy.

"ye- no? no." you paused, a tsunami of emotions building within you. you were supposed to get away from him! "i need to sleep. it's late."

"this won't take long." his brows furrowed, eyes softened, "i promise."

you hesitantly stepped to the side, allowing for your former partner to step in. a sigh fell past your lips as you closed the door and locked it shut.

"what is it?" you asked, and your breath hitched as zoro stepped closer. his arm on either side of you as he peered down at you as if he would devour you whole. "w-what? roronoa."

"did you hear what they're publishing 'bout us?" his words felt like thunder against your soft skin.

"no," your face grew hot with the impossible possibility that somehow he knew what you were browsing minutes before he came. you blinked up at him. careful. "what are they saying?"

he scoffed, and stepped back, "that we're lovers. it's stupid."

you looked down at the wooden floors, goosebumps erupting across your body at the fleeting contact, "it's just gossip, it'll die down. don't worry."

"i guess." he sighed, running a hand across his face. he didn't meet your gaze, muttering a cowardly "i am gonna go, then."

"what?" you looked up at him, the fiery feeling in your body turning to soot and ash, "that is all?"

"yeah?"

"you don't wanna say anything else?" you found yourself walking forward, and he stepped back to maintain the distance. a glare crossed your pretty face, "this is it?"

"did i do something?" zoro looked from your eyes to your lips to your unrelenting steps towards him, "hey, woman?"

"hey, woman?" your brows furrowed, exasperated words tumbling past you and clashing against his stone-cold exteriors, "fucking hey, roronoa? hey! how are you!— are you fucking for real?"

you stopped a mere inches away from him, index finger jabbed against his solar plexus. you looked up at him, eyes filled to the brim with mirth as you found his, "y-you didn't even fucking thank me! or say congrats— or any fucking thing."

"i didn't?" he tried to ask but the dam of your emotions was open, the ugly and grotesque that were buried within your mortal body for five years toppling over each other till they turned even more vile, "shut up."

"after all you've done and said five years prior, i thought you would have the fucking decency to end it on a good note this time around." you scoffed, eyes boring into his, "i was fucking wrong. you can never change. you'd always be roronoa zoro, the star player. and i'd be the fool that waited on you."

your name made past his lips, eyes closing as he tried to fend himself off.

"—oh now you're using my name? after two fucking months?" the laugh that you choked out was barely a laugh. you jabbed the finger deeper against his muscled body with every stressed syllable, "you left. you fucking left me. just. like. that."

"let me explain. we were seventeen—"

"—shut up. i wake up one morning, and you're gone. you fucking left town and the next i see of you, you're on the national news winning bronze in olympics." a humorless laugh, "and all that after you said you loved me."

"i still do."

"fuck you, roronoa."

"that's not what you call me." he breathed out slowly, fingers finding purchase against your wrist and bringing your hand upwards to press a chaste kiss, "that's not my name."

"fuck you, zoro." you spat out, and your fingers pulled his face downwards and towards you. you halted, your lips a hairsbreadth away from his, and he decided to close the distance by crashing his lips to yours in a desperate kiss.

his hands skimmed over every inch of your body, never staying one place for too long — from the back of your neck to your hips — as he drunk down any unruly noises. your fingers dug deeper against his cheeks, pulling him into your impossibly closer.

"i hate you." you whispered through the fury of kisses, as the man dragged himself downwards and placing kisses across your neck. his teeth sunk against your pulse and you whimpered as he soothed the spot with another messy kiss, "i know."

all teeth and spit and broken resolves as you pushed him backwards till he fell atop your bed.

"i hate you." your body felt like lead, as if each action was one step forward to your untimely demise.

"i know." he propped himself up, face titling upwards as you sinfully teased him. your face so close to his, so pretty as you just barely kissed him, but never getting too close lest you lose control and allow your wicked fantasies to run amok.

"don't tease." he grinned — the savage kind — as a hand came up to pull your face downwards. his fingers were firm against the hollow of your cheeks and the kiss, bruising. as if he wanted to do enough damage to make up for the past five years.

"we sh- we shouldn't." you whined into the kiss as his fingers danced under your tshirt, teasing the skin with brief contact before swiping a leisurely thumb across your perky nipples. he pulled back, face flushed as his deft fingers pulled the hem of your tshirt upwards, "don't lie. you want this."

"don't get cocky." you glared daggers at him but complied nonetheless. your fingers softly over his as he dragged your oversized tshirt upwards. his breath hitched, eyes locked on how your skin erupted into goosebumps and perked up. he leaned forward, soft lips around your hardened nipple and he hummed at the contact, "'m not gettin' cocky."

you keened into his touches, fingers pulling his still damp hair, which only prompted him to suck harder, and then chased it with a soft kiss. but you grew impatient, fingers tugging at the collar of his shirt, "off."

"yes ma'am."

your fingers grabbed ahold of his jaw, tipping it backwards as you took him in. the damp hair stuck to his nape, gaze half-lidded and lips parted as he looked up at you. your gaze hardened, words caught in the thick air between you two, "this means nothing."

zoro took his shirt off, his hands pulling your warm ones to his torso. he nodded slowly, uttering false promises between open-mouthed kisses against your jaw, "nothing at all."

"i- i mean it," you whispered, your fingers tracing up and down the rigid plane of muscles and skin. your chest pressed against his as his hands snaked around your waist, "i know, baby." hot kisses smothered against your skin, "i know."

and world's number one had you pinned under him. hovering over you, the damp strands hanging loosely to frame his face. your face burned up as he traced the tip of his index finger across your face, then slowly dragged across your skin from your chest to your stomach and to the waistband of your shorts.

your hips bucked up as he thumbed the skin above the said waistband, "z-zoro."

"what do you want? tell me." his warm, calloused palms massaged your inner thighs, spreading them open to put up a show for himself. he swiped your clothed core, "wet already?"

"fuck off." a smug grin crept across his lips, head dipping down to press kisses to your exposed skin as his fingers dragged down the waistband and took off those layers off of you. he stared up, hands growing rougher, impatient, "tell me, what do you want?"

you squirmed as he continued pressing kisses, carefully avoiding your needy core. "i-" you clenched your eyes shut, embarrassment sewing itself against your skin. you mumbled, "don't make me say it."

"i need to hear ya." he licked a languid stripe, collecting the honeyed slick on the tip of your tongue. maybe he had less resolve than he had assumed, because at once he found himself licking fat strips up and down, catching your trembling bud between his lips and sucking. you tasted of divinity and sin all wrapped in one woman and he found himself at your altar, nothing more than a helpless man.

and just like that, roronoa zoro lost all sanity.

"fuck." he hummed against you, lapping at you like a man starved. his eyes stayed train on you, gaze fixated as he watched you catch your bottom lip between your teeth and arch your back. you were so pretty. it made him ache from within, something primal that made him dive into your divine cunt nose-deep and rut against the mattress like a man who knew no patience.

when roronoa zoro pulled back, you saw a man devoid of any and all trace of rationality. he was a demon ready to devour you whole. or die trying.

he held himself back, fingers digging into the fat of your thighs and hips lest he couldn't control himself. out of breath, out of mind, "tell me."

"wan' you." you mumbled, shying away from him. squirming, trying to pull away from his iron-grip on your thighs, trying, "need you t-to fuck me."

"louder." he met your eyes in a challenge, and you rivaled his stare, "fuck me."

the kiss he lay atop your hip bone was impossibly soft, his voice even more soft, "on it."

he licked quick stripes, drinking you down like you were some forbidden nectar. words barely audible as he put two fingers in your mouth. a moment later, his fingers were drilling into you. experienced hands thrusting up into you, hitting that one gummy spot over and over and over and over—

"z— ohmygod ohmygod oh—" you tried to catch your breath, tried to make sense of the situation but the mosshead caught your pulsating clit against his lips, humming and ramming into you like a mad man. watching you as you fell apart on his tongue and fingers.

twitching, bucking up, trying to run away from him as his fingers fucked you senseless. trying to run away from him?

he pulled you towards himself, putting his weight on top of your hips. you cannot run away. "don't run, don't run. not when i just got you."

"z-zoro— stop, stop it." you cried into the air, head lolling backwards as he continued his assault on your poor pussy.

"what?" he asked, gaze predatory as he continued pumping in and out of you, "see how she's gripping me? she wants me 'sbad." he thrust up harder, fingers playing against that one spot, and your body tried to turn left, to run away. but he wouldn't let you. he pulled his fingers back, just to fuck into you harder, "see. wants me so, so bad."

zoro pressed a hungry kiss to your clit, "am i taking good care of her?"

and all you could do was grip the sheets and withstand the pleasure as another tsunami built in your lower stomach. his thumb found your clit, pressing and rubbing the little nub, "answer me."

and the pressure built and built within you. tugging on your insides harshly, as he toyed with you and your aching pussy. and then it all came crashing down. spotless white washed over your eyes, head lolling back, fingers gripping the sheets so hard and a silent scream caught in your throat.

when he pulled back, his jaw was drenched, hair damp and eyes maddened. through his tunnel-vision, he found you spent on the bed. eyes clenched shut blissfully, hair tangled 'neath you, and reddened lips.

when you had the courage to open your eyes and look up at him. fuck. how dare you do that to a man? your eyes were watery, lips trembling as you told him "i can't." and roronoa zoro decided it was as good time as any to fuck you to the point of breaking.

and now he had your legs pushed to your ears, the mushroom tip dragging itself against your walls. a groan past his lips as he hooked his arm under one leg, fucking into you with all the patience in the world. so slow, so patient, so fucking agitating.

your nails dug crescent moons into his biceps, huffing out a, "f-faster, c'mon."

"hm?" his eyebrows bunched, face falling into almost a pout, "faster? think you can handle it?"

"shu-shut up ngh—" a gasp came alive as he thrust into you faster, before slowing down his pace and toying with you again. a delirious grin came to his lips as you whined out, "ugh zoro."

"just remember," he pulled it out till his tip barely kissed your entrance, and rammed it back in, "you asked for this."

and now you were pushing the same nails in his biceps, gasping as he fucked into you with abandon. he pressed kisses to your thighs, to your knees, to any part of you that was accessible to him. hot breath fanning over your skin as his dick pumped in and out of you.

"'fuck, 'zo—" he hissed like it hurt, thrusting harder at the nickname. his pace was bruising, intentions to destroy you, "say that again."

"wh-what?" you played dumb.

strong hands came up to manhandle you to sit you atop him. searing hands on your hips as he moved you up and down his cock. a stutter made past your lips as you fell forward at the sudden change in position. hands bracing themselves against the hard muscle, you bit down on your lips, eyes rolling back, "i— fuck f-fuck, zo."

balls slapping against your ass, the sound of skin on skin deafening enough between his groans and your gasps. his grip on your unforgiving as you he helped you downwards each time to meet his erratic thrusts.

heaving, sweat trailing down his bow, your nails digging into his chest as you hugged him so sinfully tight. what were you doing to this poor man and his sanity? spasming, clenching around him, unforgiving, as he rammed upwards into you.

"i-i'm gon' cum—"

"yeah?" he breathed out, eager fingers coming to tease your puffy clit. sporadic swipes of his thumb against the aching nub, raising himself up to slowly bite down on the column of your throat, "cum f'me."

"ohmygod ohmygod zo—" head thrown back, you choked back sobs of his name as the white-hot pleasure built in your stomach and released all over his abs and chest, "fu-fuck ngh sh-shit, zoro!"

you, covered in your own essence, head thrown back, hair sticking to your chest and back, face flushed, eyes clenched shut. you.

zoro turned you around, your helpless moans trapped against the pillow as his heel dug into the dirtied mattress, and he drilled his cock into you harder and harder and harder. no rhythm, no reason as he chased his own high within you.

your overstimulated cunt spasmed around him, hugging his curved dick like you were milking him for all he was worth. fuck. fuck. fuck.

"ah— fuck." he groaned in the shell of your ear, tongue darting out to lick a languid stripe at the base of your ear as you felt his hips stutter, emptying within you.

his sweaty body stilled above yours, pressing you down into the sticky mattress. a moment later, he heaved out a content sigh and pulled it out. hitched breaths, a new wave of need building within him as he stared at the milky white gushing out of your pretty cunt.

mindlessly, his fingers pushed back the creamy white back into your poor, trembling hole. he swiped at your clit one last time, and you jolted under his torturous touches. a whine into the pillow, hips bucking away from him. you warned him, "zo."

"hah, sorry." he grinned, amused at your compliant state, before collapsing next to you.

you raised your flushed face, dazed eyes finding his pretty face next to you. he looked so pretty, it hurt. his flushed face illuminated by the soft lighting from the bedside lamps, the earrings glinting as they chimed softly against his skin, the soft smile that tugged at his lips.

this was roronoa zoro, the star player.

his fingers slowly came up to your face, pushing the damp hair strands backwards. the same fingers then traced over your nose, and your bottom lips.

and there was you, the fool that always stayed.

"zo... zoro." you pulled away from his skimming touches, "you— uh, what's the time?"

you looked away from him to pick up your phone: 2:11 a.m.

"it's late." shutting the phone, you didn't turn to look at him. what if he called out your name, looked at you, persuaded you? softly, you whispered into the heady air, "you should go back to your room. it's late, and i wanna sleep."

"wh- what are you doin'?" his hands ran over your arms, desperate touches bringing you back flush against his naked chest.

"zoro." you turned to look at him, eyes barely able to hold his steady gaze, "i-" you sucked in a breath, eyes tracing downwards to stare down his tan chest, "this meant nothing, you know that."

a scoff, "are—" the expression died, eyes widening, "should i actually leave?"

you nodded before pulling back from him, "go."

"please, just listen to me—" he sat up, shoulders squaring up as if he was ready to put up a combat for that explanation. his fingers years to touch yours, "i can explain."

you pulled your hand back, holding them against your chest. your resolved hardened. this was roronoa zoro, the star player. and this was you, and you were on your goddamn level now. no longer the fool that stuck around.

"go back to your room, rorona."

"r-roronoa? it's 'zo, for you." he begged, shifting to turn fully towards, "listen to me just once."

you shook your head, "no explanation will be good enough—"

"—i couldn't say goodbye to you. or i would have never felt like leaving that town." he pleaded, hands coming up to cradle your cheek, "and that town was a dead-end for my career. i had to leave—"

"then, leave right now as well. you're good at that shit, anyways."

"please—"

"leave."

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

22nd of august, 12:03 p.m.

when you saw roronoa zoro at the checkout counter, you pretended he didn't exist. he was dead. to you, anyways.

the mosshead didn't bother making conversation, too busy comprehending the reality where you didn't even bother looking at him twice. not even as you clutched the LV in your hands tighter, and walked out through the glass doors and out where your driver waited for you.

the chants of your name stopped you dead in your tracks as a swarm of reporters stood to your left, being held off by the hotel security. the swarm of cameras, notepads and haunting questions being pushed back by men in black, pristine suits.

"is it true?!" a shrill, familiar voice caught your attention. you dragged your shades upwards, giving the reporter from yesterday a compliant smile, "is what true?"

"that you and roronoa zoro are together?!"

your eyebrow twitched, and you dragged the sunglasses downwards. the world was tinted a dark brown, and you put on another polite smile. that bastard be damned. "n—"

"yeah." the jock called out, a self-satisfying smile on his face as he stood behind you. his arm came to wrap around you, flesh against flesh feeling familiar as he pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead, "got a problem with that?"

you whipped to look at the man that had come to become the bane of your existence and the object of your desires. but before you knew what was happening, you were being ushered by his 5'10 self into the car backseat. when you came back to reality, the car was already was on the highway and zoro was looking out the window as if he didn't just do that.

"what the fuck?!" your voice was shrill, "what the fuck, roronoa? what did you just do?!"

"it's good for publicity." he replied, solemnly. "my manager told me to do that."

"which deranged bastard is your manager?" you fisted your hand, the leather handle of the purse almost disintegrating under the intensity. glaring at him with murderous intent, you choked out a, "tell me now and i'll get sanji to murder him."

"her." zoro corrected, "name's nami. she's the best in the game."

"you're dead, roronoa."

"ah, no i'm not." he grinned, a mad man. "cheer up, babe. we have appearances to keep up."

what the fuck.

a/n: hello. uh, i have nothing to say except i just really wanted to write this 🤡. not proofread cause its uhm 10k words. nobody's gonna read this shit anyways, i think. if you've read this whole, THANK YOU!!! MWUAH MWUAH MAY BOTH SIDES OF YOUR PILLOW BE COLD AND YOU GET TO EAT SOMETHING GOOD <3 part two? yes, i wanna. roronoa zoro being a menace is my favourite gender. [psss, if you've sent in requests, girlie IM TRYING IM SORRY. may lord give me strength, and i may give you some fics!] tagging: @help-i-lost-my-sock because ur the only one with enough strength to read this. thankyou so much for putting up with my bs <3 m.list

[carmyberzattosjournal]

Entry 17: A Man Possessed

GIF credit: @maikswen

Bearblr Promptober Day 17: Dumbification (Sub: Clueless)

Summary: Carmy has girlfriend (who he calls Darling) brainworms again, and he's even more of a disaster this time. (Or: the time Carmy had to leave work to go rail his girl)

Warnings: Smut, swearing, p in v sex, unprotected sex (she has an IUD but Carmy's not writing that in his journal), Dom/Sub dynamic, calling Carmy "sir", hair pulling, obsessed thoughts, mild spiraling, fem reader/rando lass who is a trauma surgeon, she/her pronouns.

Notes: All journal entries will be titled as such and tagged with #cb journal.

Thank you for reading. Thank you to @carmenberzattosgf for putting together this prompt list.

If you want to keep following this set of works, you can follow the #cb journal tag.

Sideblog for commentary and yapping: @m-z-shoroi

This is is a two-parter. The first part is here.

Also, if random letters or words are black/white instead of the colors they should be, that's Tumblr being dumb, I've been fighting it for days.

17 Oct 2024

I handled the second incident of Darling invading my brain much worse than the first.

I couldn’t fucking focus for five fucking minutes on anything. I was pissed off at life two minutes after opening, worse so when the place looked a fucking mess from the night before. Assholes couldn’t even clean up after themselves. I don’t even know how many times I lost track of what I was doing or why because my mind went to Darling instead of staying at The Bear. Here she was, burying her face in my t-shirt again, letting out that delicious sigh, the curve of her hip still visible under the blankets, and I wanted so badly to just grab her. To squeeze her flesh in my hands, dig my fingers into the round of her ass, to drown in her soft skin and her wet kisses to my throat. I wanted to bite her. I didn’t even know what to do with that—I just wanted to sink my teeth into the inside of her thigh before soothing her by putting my mouth to use elsewhere. Why? For what purpose? How does that make sense?

Syd must’ve noticed that I was off because she started helping with cleaning—didn’t even try to talk to me. I hate that, by the way; hate when I’m so far away that people don’t even find words worth giving me. I might not talk much, but if people don’t talk to me, I start feeling like a bug on the window; tiny, inconvenient, gross, unwanted, easily forgotten until I make an irritating sound.

I had to step out in the middle of cleaning—I hadn’t even gotten to prep yet, that’s how bad it was—and I found myself dragging my hand over the side of my neck and my throat. My heart throbbed with such violence that I wanted it to escape so I’d stop being harassed by it. My hands trembled, breaths got erratic. I heard her voice again, telling me to breathe, to find sounds around me, but it came through as static. The apple leaf adagio, the skittering of dried maple leaves, her body fits so perfectly in my hands, strawberry lip balm, what’s not to love? Fuck, that feels good, Carmy. More of that, pretty boy.

Pretty boy.

Please call me pretty boy again, I’m begging you.

I struggled to make it through the rest of prep. I’m fairly sure Sydney figured out I was that same sort of fucked up again because she didn’t wait for me to fuck up a count or fail to give directions before taking over the reigns of the kitchen. I turned into a line cook, just mindlessly doing what was asked of me because it’s what I knew I could do without making a worse mess, and she had the rest under control.

Syd always had it under control; I was the one out of control.

Once again, near dinner service, just when I thought I’d be fine, I cracked under the pressure. I had stepped out to get a break from the relentless heat of the kitchen, try to get some air that wasn’t saturated with the aromas of food (it sounds nice, but trust me, when you’re hour 10 into inhaling sautéed onions, confit garlic, vinegar, cumin, black pepper, olive oil, it gets so deep into your lungs that you feel like you might cough up a prime rib steak). The snap of cold air on my face shattered the dam keeping any assertion of reality in check, and I was inundated with this… how do I even describe it? It wasn’t quite rage, but it wasn’t far from it. Like I needed Darling. I needed her so badly that if I didn’t have her, I was going to break something.

Possessed? Was I a man possessed?

I had this crawling sensation, yeah? Not quite like ants on my skin; the feeling was bigger, coarser. It started in my back, spread to my shoulders, blazed down my arms, into my hands. I clenched and relaxed my fists, trying to ward it off, but when that did nothing—and it did precisely nothing—I rubbed hard over my arms, dug my short fingernails into my skin in some faint approximation of what Darling’s nails felt like. When I thought about doing it again, even harder, hard enough to draw blood if I had to, I knew I was fucked.

I bailed on the kitchen staff again, but something tells me they would’ve hated me being there anyway.

“Sweetheart? You’re home early, what’s going on?”

She’s on the couch fiddling with yarn—I think it’s crochet? Or is it knitting? I don’t know the difference—and has the 2005 Pride and Prejudice on in the background at a low volume. I don’t even know if she can hear it with how quiet it is. I throw off my jacket, and that’s enough for her to figure out something is wrong. She puts the yarn thing on the arm of the couch and unfolds her legs to get up, but I can’t, okay, I cannot.

“No, you stay there.” I’m sorry, did I just tell her what to do? Who the fuck am I?

She froze and leveled a look at me that I can only describe as a deer in headlights. Entirely confused. Clueless. Maybe even scared.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” It’s tiny. High in her throat.

She follows my face with those big eyes as I approach. It’s weird that it didn’t bother me then. It bothers me now, thinking about it, that she was probably confused as all hell and I should’ve stopped to talk to her, but clearly, I was on one. Or something. That crawling sensation was worse, and overwhelmed by the need, the sheer fucking need to taste her. Taste that strawberry lip balm, lap at her tongue, to occupy my mouth with soft, warm wetness. Fuck me, she was wearing my t-shirt, too.

She squeaked in surprise when I crashed our lips together. Immediately shot her hand to my forearm when one of mine blanketed over her throat. The other seized a fistful of her hair, and she grabbed at my wrist. Probably startled. It bothers me that I didn’t care at the time.

“Open,” I growled.

She obeyed immediately, relented control to let me explore her mouth, and wove her hands into my hair. Fucking hell, I needed that. I was starved of her, plagued with memories of her taste for 10 entire fucking hours—fuck I needed her, all of her, I needed her hands under my skin, goddammit. I pushed her down onto the couch, wrenched her knees apart, and settled between them. She tugged my hair in surprise and then coiled her legs around me.

“Pull harder.”

“Harder? Carmy—”

I used my grip on her hair to tip her head back and aim a glare at her. “I said pull. Fucking. Harder.”

She whimpered and did what I asked. My eyes drifted shut against my will at the tension on my hair—not painful, a sort of raw pleasurable that only pain could seem to bring in that moment. It was too fucking warm. It was boiling again. Why is it always so fucking warm? It was almost as if she could hear my thoughts because she yanked my shirt up and off. I went right back to attacking her with kisses. She hooked a leg high up on my waist and tightened it—have I mentioned how fucking strong she is? College soccer player. She’s really fucking strong.—and it was enough to trigger the ache in my back and force me to pause for a moment with my lips at her neck.

“Carmy,” she gasped, “tell me where your head is, sweetheart.”

Her sounding breathless shouldn’t’ve made me feel powerful.

I yanked off her shirt. May have torn a hook off her bra when I wrested it off her. Whatever, I’d buy her a new one.

“Carmy, I need you to talk—” I cut her off with more fervent kisses. She patted my chest, squeezed her legs again. “Hey, pretty boy.”

That got me to freeze and meet her gaze. She rubbed small circles over my chest.

“Hi… hi, sweetheart.”

“Couldn’t—” Fuck me, I could barely think. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

Her confusion was replaced with a wide-eyed expression.

I ducked down to continue that hickey on her neck. I needed to leave some kind of mark on her. What the hell was going on with me? She trailed a hand down my abdomen and rested it on the bulge in my pants. Took her about two heartbeats to start fumbling with my fly. This wave of cool relief washed over me—don’t know what or why it was about—but it was brief, just a momentary breather in the flames of arousal consuming me. She got me free of my pants and underwear, kissed my temple.

“That better, hm?” Was she really trying to soothe me right now?

Did she not see the animal trying not to devour her?

It occurs to me now that I might’ve genuinely scarred her when I stared her down in response. She froze, searched my face, darted her gaze between my mouth and my eyes repeatedly. Had shaky, jerky movements when trying to shove off her sweatpants. It was odd that she wasn’t speaking. She tends to talk. Her voice is pretty soothing, honestly. At first, something of a regular check in and reassurance for me to know that I wasn’t fucking up, but now a familiar, comfortable, soothing riff in the soundtrack of our lives together. Of course, at the time, I didn’t register any of this because I just needed to be inside her already.

She tensed up when I hiked her leg up my side. Babbled frantically into my mouth, “C-Carmy? Carmy, be gentle. Please be gentle—oh fuck!”

How gentle do you think a wild animal can be, baby girl?

She was unimaginably tight but also impossibly wet. My head spun and it took every last frayed fiber of wherewithal to not immediately sink into her cunt as deep as I could. Forget thinking straight, forget thinking about anything other than the tight, wet heat enveloping my dick. I was pussy drunk already, and I just barely got started.

She dug her nails into my back, had one hand on my abdomen digging into my muscle. “Baby! Baby, please, slow down… fuck, that’s so good, but please—”

“You can take it,” I snarled into her ear.

She took a second, but then withdrew the hand pushing on me and busied it with my hair instead. Mumbled a small, “Y-yes, sir.”

Sir?

She moaned something of a pitiful sound when I got to work. Whatever that version of me was, it wasn’t gentle, but she didn’t seem to care. She hiked her leg up higher when I hit her deep, begged for more, clung to me tighter when I sunk my teeth into her shoulder and did just that, mumbled praises in my ear as I relentlessly fucked her through her orgasm. Good boy; that’s it, you’re making me feel so good; fuck, baby, I’m so full; I can take more, keep going. It crossed the rat’s nest of busted wires in my brain further. All I can remember is this raw, unfiltered, white-hot pleasure burning a chasm into my core, this tension winding so tight I couldn’t get enough air in. Braided steel cable creaking under a construction load? How do I describe this? Tightening rubber band? No.

Sinew tensioning as a dull knife dug into it. That’s an apt descriptor. Like with the ice cubes in the kitchen that first time. Only all-consuming, raw, visceral, centered on her—her scent, her heat, her strained breaths, her wetness, her taste. 

I hid my face in the crook of her neck when I was right on the edge.

Her lips brushed my ear. Her voice was strained but still the same kind of soothing to my soul. “Come on, sweetheart. Let go… Cum, pretty boy…”

I clutched her like a drowning man when my orgasm finally hit me. It knocked the air out of my lungs, killed a scream in my throat, set off a thrumming sound in my ears, first bathed me in flames and then abruptly flooded ice water through my veins. My abdomen screamed from how violently it spasmed, the muscles in my back seized up. Everything stopped. Everything—never in my life had my entire existence been so blank, so empty, so quiet, so at peace. I might even have blacked out for a bit (or my memory is just as shit as it’s always been) because the next thing I remember is slow, gentle caresses over my face, neck, chest, shoulder, then back up to my face to repeat the circuit. Her lips pressed to my hairline at intervals. My eyelashes brushed her neck while I tried to blink the cobwebs away.

“You with me, sweetheart?”

Nope. Not even close. I don’t even know what planet I’m on right now.

She smoothed my sweaty hair back off my face. Planted another kiss to my temple. “That’s okay. You’re safe. Take your time.”

This is going too well, right? She’s too perfect. God’s a sadist; that other shoe is going to return from orbit, and because I am willing to give my whole being to this woman, it will kill me. This love will kill me.