#he’s just :’) he loves his students so much like becoming a teacher was truly such a good profession for him idc

[gothsuguru]

SATORU MY BEAUTIFUL BEAUTIFUL BEAUTIFUL HUSBAND <333

[withahappyrefrain]

Somebody to Love

Summary: Attending a cookout hosted by Penny seemed like the perfect way to kickstart summer. Meeting and falling in love there wasn't on yours or Bradley's bingo list.

Warnings: Language, Bradley being a loverboy, female reader

For @roosterforme's Rocktober event! I'm so sorry it took so long and hope you enjoy it!

The first time you saw Bradley was at the Hard Deck.  

He completely missed you, as much as it pains him to admit. 

In his defense, his eyes were on the ivory keys of the piano, only looking up briefly to revel in the cheers from guests of the Hard Deck as he played. 

You, in his defense, were just trying to get in and out. Considering it was barely seven, you thought you were coming in before things got rowdy.

You were mistaken. 

The show he was putting on was nice to watch while you waited for Penny to be free. But that's all it was, a show. And after a while, you couldn't help but scoff. Was being in the Navy not enough attention? 

The smile on Penny's face when her eyes met yours was worth the wait. You pulled out the coveted book from your bag, raising it in the air as if it were the golden ticket. 

"Amelia is going to be so excited," Penny beamed as she took the book from you, "She's been talking about it for weeks!"

The mention of your former student brought a smile to your face. 

Amelia was a student during your first year of teaching. You felt a kinship to the young girl, whose parents were going through a divorce at the time. You also saw that her love of reading was untapped, blocked by years of past teachers failing to help her learn how to read. 

So you worked with her the whole year, and the summer after that, helping the girl catch up. One summer, Penny offered a bartender job when she heard you were looking for extra money. Over time, the Benjamin women had become more like family than your own. 

It's why you stayed in touch. Why you took on extra shifts occasionally during the school year, when Penny truly needed help at the last minute. Why you made the trip out to the Hard Deck simply to give a book. 

"Stay for a drink? It's on the house," Penny held up an empty glass, hoping the way it gleamed in the light could entice you into staying. 

But you looked around, taking in how many people were there, how loud it was. How the man wearing aviators and a Hawaiian shirt was feeding the crowd with the piano rendition of a song that sounded familiar. 

And simply shook your head. 

"Should get going, it is a school night." The truth was, you'd rather be at home, in your bed reading than staying out late with a bunch of pilots. 

Before you could say goodbye, Penny placed a hand on yours.

"Before you go Birdie, I wanted to let you know that we're celebrating Amelia's middle school graduation two weeks from Saturday. We'd love to have you there." 

You smiled, sincerely flattered that they would want you present for such an event, "I'd love to. Will your man of the hour be there?" 

A giggle escaped from you when you saw Penny's cheeks begin to turn pink. 

Bradley swears if he had looked over at that moment, he wouldn't have let you leave the Hard Deck that night. 

—------------------------

Bradley Bradshaw was not anti-romance, despite what his friends claimed, despite the numerous times he's turned down someone wanting to set him up. 

The idea of romance did appeal to him. The idea of spending the rest of his life with one person, who loved him and wanted to grow a family with him, was very appealing in theory. 

He wasn't against it at all. Just cautious. 

Cautious as he witnessed first hand how dangerous his job was, how it tore families apart. Hesitant because he grew up with the aftermath- the support groups, the sympathetic looks, the empty dining chair that served as a loud, always present reminder of what he and his mother had lost. 

He had been on dates, had been in relationships. They never went anywhere and Bradley was fine with that. The possibility that he may not come back from his deployments lingered in his mind, as did the image of someone receiving a flag and maybe his dog tags. 

Why put someone through that? 

“It's hard, but I wouldn't change a thing about it. You'll understand when it happens to you.” 

His mother’s words rang in his ears. He knew she meant well. Bradley knew those words were true for her. 

But he couldn't see them being true for himself. 

So he came to Amelia’s graduation party with a vegetable tray and no date, despite Penny’s insistence that he could bring someone. 

It's why Bradley walked straight past the kitchen, ignoring the unfamiliar voices. It's why he kept to the people he knew, rather than mingle with strangers. 

And that was fine, enjoyable even. Things were going the way they always went, the way Bradley wanted it. 

Consistent. 

Bradley Bradshaw lived for consistency. Each morning, he'd get up and go to work. Work hard until his bones ache. Spend time with friends and the makeshift family he had found. Go to bed alone. Rinse and repeat. 

Consistent. 

Everything was just fine, until Bradley felt a hand grip his shoulder. When he turned around, he found Jake and his fiancé, Danica (or Venus, as everyone called her), looking at him. 

��Your future wife is in the kitchen. Get in there.” 

—-------------------------------

Bob saw her first. 

It was hard to miss the sound of classic rock blaring from her red Subaru. 

The sounds of eighties rock was a nice change from the Jerry Lewis and Sinatra music Bradley insisted on playing. 

Even nicer was her voice. Sweet, smooth, light. 

She was clearly in her own world, unaware she had an audience. 

Nor would she. Bob knew better than anyone the pains of people walking in on him. So he quietly got out of his car, leaving her to finish the song by herself. 

Reuben was the first one to speak to her. 

Or rather, his daughter was. 

Ava, always determined to explore, ran into the kitchen as soon as he set her on the ground. 

It was easy to find her. Despite being only two, Ava had quite the voice on her. 

Given her shouts about cookies, Reuben wasn’t surprised when he found his daughter in the kitchen, pointing excitedly to a plate of sugar cookies. 

He was a little surprised to see that the person kneeling down to talk to her wasn’t Penny, but rather a woman he had never seen before. 

“Is it okay if I give her a cookie?” She asked, motioning to the sugar cookie she was holding in her hand. 

“As long as you're able to cut her off after two,” Reuben chuckled, “I'm warning you now, she can be hard to convince.” 

You smiled, the corners of your eyes crinkling, the bridge of your nose scrunching up as you looked at Ava, “It'll be tough, but I think I can manage.” 

Javy was the first one to try to include her in the picnic festivities. 

“Hey, don't tell them this is what we’re calling them, but we’re playing beer pong against the old timers in the basement. You in?” He asked. 

“Oh I'm good, but don't worry, your secret is safe with me,” She said with a gentle smile and a wink. 

It was the fact that she sounded assured, content to stay in the kitchen and continue making small talk with some of the wives, away from the hubbub of the picnic, that made him not push. 

Natasha was the first one to have an actual conversation with her. 

In a sea full of testosterone, it was  hard not to notice another woman. Especially one who looked around her age. 

“So how do you know Penny?” You looked rather surprised by Nat’s question, surprised that another person had noticed you in the kitchen and decided to converse.

“Oh, I'm, well, I was Amelia’s third grade teacher. I tutored her for a couple of summers and have helped Penny bartend when she needs extra help,” you explained. 

Natasha recalls Penny mentioning you a few times, now able to put a face to the name. 

“So you're the teacher! Penny said we might see you at the Hard Deck this summer,” Nat grinned, hoping it would help her feel more at ease. 

“I am! I'm still figuring out how exactly I want to spend my summer. First time I won't be doing summer school or tutoring,” you explained, continuing to wash the dishes that had begun to pile up on the counter. 

“Any travel plans? Or family you plan to visit?” Nat asked. 

You shook your head, eyes appearing dismal for a brief moment, “I don't have much family to visit. But I have been meaning to explore the area more, so I might do that.” 

Natasha knew not to press. You didn't owe her any further explanation. 

But out of all people, Jake Seresin was the one to make the connection. 

“I’m sorry, but what did Penny just call you?” He asked, jamming a finger up his ear to clean it out, convinced he heard it wrong. 

“Oh, Birdie!” you explained, flustered, “It’s um….it’s always been a nickname that friends and family have called me, ever since I was a kid. When I told Penny, she started calling me that too.”

Jake recalls the other details he's learned; a love of classic rock, vintage clothes and children, how your face lit up when someone spoke to you, as though you had  been waiting an awfully long time to be noticed, to be acknowledged. 

Your nickname. 

It hits Jake like a fucking freight train. 

“Excuse me, I have to go uh, um, find my wife,” he said abruptly, practically running out of the kitchen. 

Jake quickly found his Venus, tapping her on the shoulder as he ignored the death glare Phoenix was giving him for interrupting. 

“What is-” 

“Birdie. Her nickname is Birdie.” 

Danica’s amber-glazed eyes widened as she shot Natasha a knowing look. 

“Where is she?” 

Which is how Bradley Bradshaw found himself being dragged away from the grill and into Penny's house. 

After all, Bradley didn't have too much common sense. He would insist he was alright, despite losing his beat as he watched his close friends fall in love and get married. 

So they were just helping, helping him find somebody to love. 

“Y'all are being ridiculous, just because she likes the same music-” 

“It's more than that. You just need to see for yourself,” Jake explained, pushing him towards the kitchen. Inside, a sweet voice was talking.

“Peekaboo! I see you!” He could hear a big smile through your voice, “Now it's Ava’s turn!” 

Bradley turned the corner to find you sitting cross legged on the kitchen floor, enabling you to be somewhat closer to eye level with Ava. You and the little toddler were both full of giggles as you continued your game. 

Ava’s small hands flew up to her face, covering her eyes. It was an adorable sight, how she was trying to say the words. A bright smile adorned your face, eyes shining as you played with her. 

“Where did Ava go?” You asked, pretending to look, “There she is!”

A warmth flooded Bradley’s heart as he watched this mysterious woman interact with Ava. It felt familiar,childhood memories of his mom flooding back. But this time, instead of feeling sorrow, a pleasantness surrounded him. 

Strange. 

Ava babbled, causing you to giggle once more. 

“My name is Birdie. Can you say Birdie?”

Oh. 

So that was why everyone thought this was his future wife. 

It was a cute coincidence, nothing more. Yes, it was beyond endearing to watch you interact with Ava, you were obviously great with kids. 

“Roo!” Ava’s coos of her special nickname for Bradley broke him out of his thoughts. 

“What's a Roo?” You asked, your eyebrows knitted together in confusion. The puzzled look on your face was adorable. 

“That would be me. Hey Ava girl,” Bradley kneeled down, his arms open wide, allowing Ava to run over and hug him. 

You instantly recognized him thanks to the memorable mustache. But his smile and eyes were much softer now. His whole demeanor is less cocky and more approachable in Penny’s kitchen. 

Bradley scooped the young toddler into his arms, grinning as Ava giggled. 

“You being good? Trying to persuade people to give you more cookies by being adorable?” Bradley asked the toddler. 

“I'm holding out strong. Don't want her dad to hate me for giving her a sugar rush,” You explained, a soft smile on your face as you watched him interact with Ava. 

“See, the key is to make sure the sugar rush happens when he takes her home,” Bradley grinned, “That way he can't do anything about it.” 

“I'm sure he can ask around regarding who gave her all that sugar though,” you retorted, facing the sink again to continue the dishes. 

“See, that's where you have the advantage; you're not in the group chat,” Bradley balanced Ava on a hip, walking over to the sink to join you. 

You were fun to talk to; able to hold your own with a soft, yet slightly mischievous smile adorning your face. 

“I'm Bradley,” he explained, the spirit of his mother probably screaming that it took him this long to introduce himself. 

“I take that's your actual name, considering that's way too normal to be your callsign,” normally you wouldn't tease a complete stranger like this. But he was easy to talk to and it helped that he was holding an adorable baby like a complete natural. 

“It is. My callsign is Rooster.” The information caused your hands to still. 

“Rooster?” It was too wild to be a coincidence. 

“Yeah, when I was part of my first squadron, I was always the first one to be up. But I also had a tendency to be well, louder than what they would have preferred, which is how I got my callsign Rooster.” Bradley smiled as he recalled the loud complaints of his squadron, which always seemed to die down once they learned he was making breakfast. 

“I, love that. Sorry, I, it's funny your callsign is that. Because it's like a nickname right? My nickname is Birdie,” your speech quickened as you realized you were rambling, “I know that nicknames aren't the same as callsigns. Well, in a way they are, they're both given to you for a reason, right? It's just funny how our nicknames are both-” 

“Excuse me?” You looked up to see your savior came in the form of a bespectacled man who was standing by the door. 

“I was threat-I mean, told by Danica and Phoenix that I needed to get Ava,” The man said, walking over to Bradley. 

“Bo!” Ava exclaimed, reaching for the man. 

“Sure thing Bob,” Bradley said, hanging over the toddler to his friend, unable to stop himself from rolling his eyes at his friends’ schemes. 

“C'mon Ava, let's leave the two soon to be lovebirds alone,” Bob whispered, out of the room before Bradley could say anything.

“Did he just… “

Bradley sighed, “Gotta watch out for that one. He's quiet but can be cheeky when he wants to be.” 

“As opposed to the others, who are just outright cheeky?” You asked. 

Bradley chuckled, “You're catching on. Here, I can dry while you wash?” 

He could be spending time with his squadron. Could be spending time joking with Mav’s old squad, making jokes and talking about the past that he was too young to remember. Could be anywhere but here in the kitchen, helping you do dishes. 

And yet, he didn't mind it at all. Bradley was finding himself enjoying his conversation with you, despite knowing it would earn him several eye rolls and shoulder shoves from Danica and Jake. 

You were surprised he was still here, that he hadn't found an excuse to leave. 

It was a nice change. 

“So you're the teacher Penny talks about?” 

You laughed, “Is that who I'm known as? You're like the third person to ask me that.” 

“Just shows how big of an impact you had.” Your cheeks warmed at the praise. 

“You know, you just try your best. Make sure to listen. Helps that I'm also a child of divorce, you know? Had a lot of pointers,”  you shrugged, but it was clear you were downplaying your efforts. 

“Have you always wanted to be a teacher?” Bradley asked, wanting to keep the conversation going, despite the dishes being done. 

You took your hands out of your pockets, fidgeting with the hem of your dress. Your shoulders shrug as a small smile spreads across your lips. 

“Yeah. I love helping folks, especially kids. I was a camp counselor all throughout high school and I just….felt at home when I was helping other people,” you explained. 

You leaned forward, the scent of jasmine flooding Bradley’s nostrils. 

“It makes sense that I became a teacher. But if you asked me as a kid what I wanted to do as a grown up, I wouldn't have said teaching.” 

Bradley leaned forward. With the sunlight hitting him, you could now see the lighter shades of brown that adorned his curls. 

“A mom. I’ve always wanted to be a mom.” 

“You'll understand when it happens to you.” 

Oh. Okay. 

That's when Bradley Bradley finally gets it. Because he's imagining life with you; moving in together, getting married, having kids. The risk is still there. But he'd rather live with that risk and you than not at all. 

“I know that's silly, but it's true. I mean, it's not even an occupation-” 

“I said I wanted to be a dad when I grew up.” 

Your eyes light up at his admission, feeling at ease and less like a rambling burden. 

“You must have had a really great Dad then.” There was a flash of sorrow in his eyes at the mention of his father. 

“From what I remember. I was only four when he died, but….from what I remember, he was great,” his voice was softer now, his eyes showing he was in another place. 

You inched closer to him, “I'm really sorry, I'm sure that was hard for you and your mom.” 

“It wasn't easy. But she always said she wouldn't change anything. Never really understood that until recently.” His shoulder is touching yours, his long fingers inches away from your thighs. You were hyper aware of the closeness, unsure if moving away would be proper or offensive. 

“Something helped you have that revelation?” 

“Moreso someone.” 

It's impossible to not notice the way his stare lingers on you, how his smile is warm and those whisky eyes are shining bright as he sends a wink your way. It makes your heart flutter; no one has ever looked at you that way before. 

Nerves begin to overtake your brain, causing you to look away from his intense gaze. 

“Should we um, get back to the picnic?” You all but mumbled. There's no desire to leave him, but you don't want to get your hopes up. 

“Can I at least get your number before we do that?” Bradley asks, eagerly getting out his phone. 

Bradley Bradshaw hates accidents, except for the one that led him to this kitchen, to you. 

His forwardness is uncharted territory. There's no wondering or second guessing; Bradley wants to stay in touch, wants to keep talking to you. 

It's nice. It's unfamiliar. It's exciting. It's sending your doubts and anxiety into a tailspin. 

Your fingers fumble for your phone, opening up a new contact for him to fill out. His fingers brush against yours when he hands you his phone, little sparks flying up your spine. 

Bradley simply smiles when your eyes look at the screen of his phone. Your brows knit together in confusion, the bridge of your nose scrunching up as you read over the words again and again, eyes surely playing tricks on you. 

“Um, I think you made a mistake Bradley?” you hold up his phone, “The name for this  contact is Mrs. Bradshaw?” It also has a heart emoji next to it, but that wasn't worth mentioning. 

“Oh, it's no mistake,” Bradley grins. 

The only sound you can let out is a confused huh. 

“You just gotta put your number right there, and then you're all set.” Bradley points to it, an assured smile remaining on his face. 

“Are you….are you going to change the name?” You asked, dumbfounded. 

Bradley shrugs, “Nah. I'll know it's you. But I can put the word ‘future’ in parentheses if you want it to be more accurate.” 

Your fingers have a mind of their own, typing in those desired ten numbers. Bradley takes his phone from your hands but not before placing a gentle kiss on your burning cheek. 

His lips feel soft, the hairs of his mustache gently tickling your skin. When you turn your head, your lips are now inches away from yours. 

You try to ground yourself, try to look away from his lips, try to ignore the warm, fuzzy feeling that's overtaking your body. 

“Sorry Birdie, but I'm old fashioned. First kiss shouldn't be until the first date,” He winks. 

What floors you more, his confidence or his bold desire for you? 

Raising an eyebrow, you ask, “And when will that be?” 

Bradley chuckles, “Whenever you want Birdie.” 

He can't be serious. But what would he gain from leading you on, other than Penny’s wrath? 

You straighten your shoulders, trying to hold your own against his large frame.

“Tomorrow at six,” You muster up all the confidence you can, preparing yourself for him to drop the act. 

“Done. Do you prefer Italian or French?” 

“Neither as I'm lactose intolerant.” This was it. Was he going to stop the act, once he knew it would require more effort. 

“How do you feel about Thai? I know a great spot. Never been but it's been praised by Jake and Danica and let me tell you, that woman does not give out praise easily.” 

You giggled, “I could tell. By the way, is there a reason he calls her Venus?” 

“Short version; he's obsessed with her. Been that way since they met in the parking lot of a coffee shop. You should ask them how they met; they give different answers and it's hilarious,” Bradley explains, a gleam in his eyes as he thinks about one of his favorite couples. 

“I'd like that. But if you go with me,” you asked, “Kinda random to just walk up to a couple you don't know and ask how they met.” 

Again, you expect Bradley to falter. He's clearly more outgoing than you, so why would he want someone whose first instinct wasn't to strike up a conversation with strangers? 

“I will, but only if you confirm we’re on for Thai tomorrow at six.” 

Surely, he couldn't be serious. But that sweet smile and shining brown eyes said otherwise. 

“You really gonna take me out?” you crossed your arms over your chest. 

“Of course! I mean, I'm more than happy to take you out tonight, but you said tomorrow, so I'm sticking to it. Plus, it gives me time to get you flowers. Speaking of which, what are your favorite? You seem like a sunflower gal,” his eyes reminded you of an eager puppy, absolutely endearingly adorable. 

“What makes you think that?” He was absolutely right, but you wouldn't let him know that yet. 

Bradley shrugged, “When you smile, it reminds me of sunshine. Also, if it want to get technical, birds also like sunflower seeds.” 

You couldn't help but throw your head back and laugh. Your laugh was sweet, bursting with joy. It calmed down Bradley’s racing heartbeat. 

 “And what should I get you, Rooster? Corn meal?”

His corniness almost made you forget that he literally compared you to the sun. 

Almost. 

His laugh was deep, bellowing deep from his stomach, making you feel warm all over. 

“You kill me Mrs. Bradshaw, now let's go get you that story,” He gently takes your hand into his, entwining his fingers with yours. 

The nickname makes you less confused and more certain Bradley would be sticking around.

[cherriegyuu]

so high school | kmg | part 1

pairing: hockey player mingyu x f!reader  genre: smut (in later part), fluff, a bit of angst, bad attempt at comedy word count: 8.8k summary: when you’re suddenly thrown in Mingyu’s direction, you have no choice but to stay by his side, and maybe it’s not as bad as you think playlist: click here a/n: i wanted to write a story that was light, summeryish. it was based off of taylor swift’s song so high school (i’m not that creative with names), i wanted to write that sort of cute romance we all just love. i truly hope you like it, this one is precious to me. thank you to @joonsytip for helping me with this one. please, remember to comment and reblog, it does mean the world to me and i would love to know your opnions.

< part two >

If there was one thing you hated about college, it was having to choose electives. For starters, you really didn’t want to be there. You were a good student because you had no choice, not because you absolutely loved college �� not that your major was boring and you hated everything about it, but it really did seem like a universal experience to hate your chosen major at some point in college. But the problem was that taking the courses related to your major was hard enough as it was, you didn’t want to have to worry about subjects that might or might not add to what you were studying. Of course, you always tried to choose something that had at least a minimum to do with your major — Art History.

But there were times, like the previous semester when you procrastinated too much to choose one, that it simply wasn’t possible, and you had to put up with classes on Cultural Management. At first, you thought it would be geared towards galleries and the like, but it was something much more specific about public cultural heritage and that wasn’t what you wanted. At least the subject was easy enough. Just reading a few pages of Kira’s notes and listening to half of the lectures was enough to get you through with a high grade.

Trying to be a little smarter, and do something you actually enjoyed doing, you signed up for the semester’s classes as soon as they opened. You were already sitting in front of your computer when the clock struck 10 am. You chose a class that all of your classmates, or at least the ones you talked to, were interested in doing: Model Making.

It was something you enjoyed doing when you were younger. Your parents knew that if you simply disappeared or were too quiet — aka you weren’t yelling at Jeonghan — you���d be in your room surrounded by modeling clay, chopsticks, glue, brushes, and paint, or whatever materials you were using at the time. 

However, all of your dreams were shattered when you ran into Kira at the campus entrance. 

“You know, the teacher for this class is crazy. Your life is going to be hell” was like a cold shower.

After that, it was as if everywhere you went, people were purposefully talking about the subject, about how the teacher was absolutely crazy and that getting a good grade with her was almost impossible, and how she “seems to take a sick pleasure in failing students.” So when the day of class finally arrived, the first of the next six hellish months, you dragged yourself into the classroom. You chose the seat furthest away from her, hidden behind a student, and did your best to stay as out of sight as possible. 

The guy sitting in front of you turned around. He was smiling widely. You weren’t sure if he was trying to be friendly or what. 

“Do you know if what everyone’s saying is true?” 

There was something about him that was familiar. You obviously knew who he was, it was no secret. Everywhere you went, people were either whispering about him or there was a picture of him and the other guys on the team taped to the wall.

Kim Mingyu, star of the ice hockey team. The youngest to become captain, top scorer, the big sensation who would lead the university to the long-awaited championship. All that blah blah blah about the chosen athlete, and the latest savior of the nation.

So yes, you knew who he was, there was no way you couldn't know. But at that specific moment, while he was sitting in front of you, his body turned in the chair at a strange angle because he was obviously too big for that tiny chair, there was something about him that was strangely familiar.

"That the teacher is crazy?" he nodded, his eyebrows slightly arched and his lips almost forming a pout "I haven't heard anyone say otherwise, so I have no choice but to believe it."

You lowered your eyes and focused on the lit screen of your cell phone, which showed a new message from your brother. You didn't look away because you wanted to know what Jeonghan wanted, as far as you were concerned his message would only be read at the end of the day, if that. You didn't want to keep looking at Mingyu when you felt that everyone in the classroom was looking at you.

You knew it wasn't exactly true, there was no way an entire class, full of students talking to each other, could be looking at you at the same time as if you were doing something scandalous or even remotely wrong. But you knew there were a few people, and that was more than enough. It was a very familiar feeling, one you preferred not to revisit.

Even though you completely ignored Mingyu's presence or his gaze on you, he still hadn't turned around. Not even when the teacher entered the room and everyone fell silent.

The problem with being a child who didn’t have many experiences is that you become a fearful person. Everything seems big, larger than life, and sometimes everything seems infinite and far beyond reach. It’s a much easier choice to retreat into that familiar corner and pretend the world outside simply doesn’t exist. The bubble you created for yourself was small and admittedly, sometimes suffocating, but it was also comforting.

But everything can change when you meet people who aren’t aware of that bubble, or who didn’t create those spaces for themselves. They weren’t trapped inside it.

One class was more than enough to start a crack in your perfectly intact bubble. A selective introvert, as you liked to say. For a loud hockey player when he was surrounded by his friends, Seokmin was strangely shy.

When the teacher was choosing the pairs, you closed your eyes, praying to anyone who would listen not to pair you with a bad student, someone who wouldn't do anything and you would have to do all the work alone. The prayer, or whatever it was, was not heard because the teacher decided it would be a great idea to pair you and Seokmin. Maybe you were under the wrong impression, falling into the old suspicions and stereotypes, but you doubted very much that you would be able to get any kind of help from Seokmin.

And to be quite honest, after a bad experience with a group mate, to the point of ending up at the police station, because the guy simply couldn't accept the fact that you taking his name off the work was completely his fault and you simply didn't think it was fair that you did everything alone and he still got a good grade, you were okay with doing everything on your own. You were sure that if you opened your email, and clicked on your spam box because God was a witness to the number of emails you had received from that idiot, there would probably still be some unread emails from him, bragging that even with your “attempt” to jeopardize his education, he had managed to get a good enough grade to pass the class. 

Despite everything, Seokmin was nice and seemed interested enough, although a little lost, but maybe a little push in the right direction would be enough. 

“I took this class because I thought it would be easy,” he said laughing, a little shy, “I guess I was wrong.” 

You nodded, absentmindedly turning the page of your notebook with the notes you had made. 

“I took it because I like the idea of ���​building models.”

The classroom door opened with a bang, slamming against the wall. Everyone turned to him, some girls laughing. Mingyu was obviously late, his hair still wet from the shower, his backpack inside out on his shoulder, his shirt completely wrinkled as if it had just come out of a cow’s mouth. The teacher stood up and walked towards him slowly, her arms crossed over her chest.

“He’s screwed.” Seokmin laughed softly, or as softly as he could.

The teacher didn’t have a welcoming look in her eyes, if anything she seemed to be glaring at Mingyu, and not even the best smile he could throw in her direction would make a difference. In addition to being crazy, the teacher was also apparently known for not accepting tardiness.

It was impossible to look away as Mingyu tried, without any success, to open his mouth to explain, but the teacher wouldn’t let him say a single word. You and Seokmin suppressed a laugh when the teacher looked in the direction where she thought the noise was coming from before turning back to Mingyu, who seemed more desperate by the second. He looked lost standing in front of the older woman, his head lowered like a child who had misbehaved and was listening to a lecture.

Finally, the teacher dismissed him with a wave of her hands and turned back to her desk, completely ignoring Mingyu. He finally turned back to the desks, his eyes scanning the space before finally settling on Seokmin. Or… on you? There was no reason to believe he was looking at you, none at all. When Mingyu smiled, you went back to looking at your notes, flipping the pages almost compulsively, looking for anything and nothing.

You had no idea why your heart was behaving like that, beating almost animalistically inside your chest, or why you felt a single drop of sweat run down your spine — despite the air conditioning being on and you feeling cold. You could have sworn you could hear Mingyu’s footsteps going up the stairs, despite the sound of the students’ conversations around you being obviously much louder.

“At least I got something good for being late today.”

Mingyu pulled out the empty chair next to you and sat down, his knee bumping against yours. You flinched a little and moved away, making yourself closer to Seokmin.

“Sorry,” you said to Seokmin and turned to Mingyu. “Could you…?”

You waved your hand to make him move away. He looked confused for a second until he pushed the chair further away from you. On the other side, Seokmin covered his mouth, trying to stifle a laugh, while Mingyu glared at him.

“The teacher who chose your group?” Seokmin asked, still trying to suppress a laugh.

“She just said to sit with whoever wasn’t already in a trio”

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. Great, you were stuck with two jocks who had probably hit their heads on the ice so much that their brains had turned to jelly in their early twenties.

“What do we have to do?”

“Build 3 models based on architectural periods.” When Mingyu widened his eyes, you added, “It’s the entire semester’s work. We don’t even have to come to class anymore, just the last one to hand it in.”

You started gathering the few materials you had taken out of your bag. The notebook and pen quickly disappeared into what Jeonghan called a black hole. “What goes in there never comes out again. If you look hard enough, you’ll find a wallet I lost in high school.”

“Look, I know I’m going to do this alone. I'll find a way to let you know the periods I chose and the artists and you guys study for the presentation.” 

You stood up, pushing the chair back with your knees, making a lot more noise than expected, which in turn made most of the people turn to see what was happening, including the teacher. 

“Wait,” Mingyu said, holding the strap of your bag. 

Not that you could get out of there anyway, he was between you and any possibility of leaving. But you thought he would get out of the way if he saw that you wanted to leave.

“I'll help, it's my job too,” with his free hand, he pointed to Seokmin behind you. “Ours, actually.” 

Despite the sincere look on his face, you laughed.

“Look, I don't want to offend you guys, okay? But the three of us know that won't happen. There will always be a practice, a game, a party, something that will stop you from doing your part of the work. I don’t mind doing it alone, it won’t be the first time, and considering I still have two more semesters to go, it won’t be the last. It’s okay, really.”

Mingyu stood up and for a moment you were sure he was going to get out of your way, but somehow he managed to block your path even more. You couldn’t help but wonder if he had always been this tall and wide. When he was around the other players it didn’t seem like it, but him standing in front of you…

“I said we’ll help” 

He took his phone out of his pocket and unlocked it, turning the device towards you.

“You know, your hands are huge, and this is a very delicate job” What exactly were you talking about?

“He’s more skilled than you can imagine,” Seokmin said. 

Once again, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath. The teacher was definitely crazy, and it seemed like she had some kind of personal vendetta against you. Or was it a curse cast by Jeonghan for staining his white shirts? Whatever it was, it was a problem that, at the moment, had no obvious solution.

“If I fail this class because of you two idiots, maybe one of you will lose a hand.” You snatched the phone from Mingyu’s hand, dialed your number, and quickly handed it back. “Maybe both of you”

You put your hand on Mingyu’s shoulder and pushed him back. You tried your best to avoid any kind of contact, but it was the only solution you could find to pass.

“It’s not a matter of life or death, you know?” he said, laughing.

“I’ve never failed in my life, and I’m not going to start now.”

Mingyu pushed the door open with perhaps a little more force than necessary. He wasn't angry, but he wasn't happy either, a strange feeling somewhere in between that he didn't like very much.

That first day he had seen you in class was like he had been transported back to high school. He could almost hear you saying, in the most disinterested tone in the world, "I've been waiting for you for two hours, could we please go home?" At that time he had also felt invisible to your eyes.

But so many years later, in that classroom, he thought you would recognize him. Mingyu thought, as naive as it may seem, that despite your disinterest at the time, at least you would know who he was.

Of all the people he could meet in that class, you were the last one that ever crossed his mind. It had been years since he had last seen you, since Jeonghan's last game, when he was crowned champion for the third time - an unprecedented feat until that moment. Mingyu had even tried to beat that record, but his runner-up position in the third year had prevented him from doing so. 

He had gotten used to seeing you from afar, always the unreachable sister of his captain, who always seemed to be much more interested in the books you carried around with you than in anything else. 

The truth was that you had never even directed a word in Mingyu's direction. Besides Jeonghan, he had only seen you talk to one other person, Seungcheol. It had never been clear to him if it was by choice or if it was because Jeonghan always said you were off-limits. Maybe it was somewhere in between. 

However, when you entered the room, looking for an empty chair, Mingyu expected you to recognize him, even though so many years had passed. When you walked up the stairs and seemed to be heading towards him, Mingyu, like a silly teenager, expected you to at least greet him. But you walked right past him as if he wasn't even there. 

Even so, he tried to talk to you. Something about the teacher being crazy and the look in your eyes said that you couldn't wait for him to shut up and look straight ahead again.

After that, it was like he saw you everywhere, and believe him, he wasn't looking for you. In the café that opened on the other side of the campus, in the library, when he went to return a book, in the hallway of the building, on the lawn. Mingyu spent five years without having any kind of contact with you and, suddenly, you were everywhere.

He chose to see it as a divine sign. As if the guy up there was saying "Now is your chance". And then, as if all these signs weren't enough, he was given the chance to do an assignment with you, almost like a gift.

"The door didn't do anything to you," Seokmin said laughing.

"Do you want to be the door?" 

Maybe the divine signal was broken, maybe the guy up there was messing with him because in less than 5 minutes you managed to extinguish any and all excitement Mingyu could have about doing the assignment with you. All you had to do was open your mouth.

“Dude, she just doesn’t remember you” Seokmin laughed again, having a little too much fun with the whole situation “If you say, ‘hi, I was your brother’s teammate’, she’ll still not remember you, but maybe she’ll be less hostile”

Mingyu highly doubted that was the case. There was a rumor that you hated everything and anything that had to do with hockey, your patience was less than zero. Jeonghan was the king of the ice, the best the sport could produce. You were the ice princess without ever having even put on a pair of skates – or so the gossip said. 

“It doesn’t bother me that she doesn’t remember me” It did bother him, but he wouldn’t admit it “It bothers me that she thinks I’m stupid”

Usually, under completely normal circumstances, Mingyu would even prefer to be seen as stupid and without anything in his head. It was easier, it prevented people from creating any kind of expectation about him. Strangely, he wanted you to see him as intelligent.

“You’re a bit contradictory, aren’t you? You’ve spent the last 3 years cultivating the image of a dumb athlete, who gets good grades by pure luck, despite the almost impossible subjects, but now you want her to think you’re smart”

“I didn’t know you knew how to use the word contradictory”

You stared at the lit screen of your cell phone. The unknown number was glowing and the inviting green button was almost begging you to answer the call. It was already the third time he had called and it would also be the third time you had ignored him.

“You know, it won’t hurt if you answer his call,” Kira said beside you, but she also knew that trying to convince you was a losing game.

Exactly 11 days had passed since the fateful class that had put you in a group with Seokmin and Mingyu. While you had no direct problems with either of them, besides them being hockey players, Mingyu’s insistence irritated you in a way that didn’t make much sense — not even to you. You should have felt relieved that he wanted to do the work, and that he was interested in participating. But the truth is that you knew how this worked, you had been in that situation before and hadn’t had the best experience.

Maybe you were a little too hard on him, it's true, but it's like the old saying goes: a scalded cat fears cold water.

“I want to keep as far away from him as possible.”

Kira rolled her eyes for what seemed like the twentieth time. She understood, to some extent, your dislike for players and also knew that a lot of it came from your brother, but in the case of Mingyu, specifically, you were definitely going too far.

“Look, the rumors are that he's a good student, actually. Always with high grades.” Kira tried to argue.

You knew the rumor well, even before you were put in the same group, in fact, much to your chagrin, Mingyu had chosen to be in the same group as you. That helped a lot with the huge reputation he had around the college. Handsome, athletic, good student. But you didn't believe it for a minute.

You didn’t know if Mingyu really had any good grades, but if he did, you were sure he hadn’t gotten them in the most… fairway.

“And he’s not unpleasant to look at at all.”

It was your turn to roll your eyes at him. Yes, Mingyu was gorgeous, breathtaking, the kind of guy that made you wonder if he was even real. You had eyes and they worked just fine, you didn’t need Kira to remind you that he was handsome. Saying Mingyu was handsome was like saying the sky was blue, obvious, and expected.

“You know I don’t mess with athletes.”

Finally, Mingyu had given up on the call, but that didn’t mean he had given up completely. Your phone only had a few seconds of respite before the screen lit up again, but this time with a ton of messages.

Unknown - 11:32

hi, it's mingyu

Unknown - 11:32

again

Unknown - 11:33

answer me, I want to talk about the project

Unknown - 11:34

you said you want to do it alone, but it's not going to happen, you know? I can't leave my grande in the hands of a complete stranger

Unknown - 11:35

I see you with your phone in your hand, take my call or reply to my texts

You lifted your head so quickly that you felt a twinge in your neck.

"Shit"

You looked around the cafe, trying to find Mingyu, but most of the tables were empty and none of the people standing in line looked remotely like him. You brought your face closer to the glass, trying to find the tall, broad figure, outside, and still didn't see anyone who could be mistaken for him.

yn - 11:37

I could report you for stalking

Unknown - 11:37

crime: wanting to do a college assignment

yn - 11:37

following me around, calling me non-stop, texting me. It could be considered stalking, yes

Unknown - 11:38

again, crime: wanting to do a school project

Unknown - 11:38

also, I wasn’t following you, I just happened to see you

yn - 11:38

I already said I'll do it alone

Unknown - 11:39

and I already said it won't happen, so if you could tell me your plan on how to do it, that would be great

“We have to admit, he's persistent”

Mingyu's messages became common and also at the most random moments possible. You were sure that the only time he hadn't sent a text was when he was at the game last Friday. You knew this because you had watched the game, with the computer with the sound turned down so that Jeonghan wouldn't suspect anything. 

You hated to admit it, but he was good at what he did. Dared to say it was even glorious. It was hard to believe that a man of that size, so wide, could infiltrate the smallest spaces and score the most unbelievable goals possible. He and Seokmin together were almost magical. They still couldn't compare to the duo of Jeonghan and Seungcheol, but that was already a very high level to reach. 

Mingyu had given up on sending you texts only about work, not that you had answered any of them, but he also started asking about your course, inviting you and Kira to go to one of his games – you still wondered how he had found out about your friendship since all of your social media profiles were locked and so were Kira's.

You had to agree with Kira, he was persistent. You could even say tireless. If you were him, you would probably have given up a long time ago, choosing to let the crazy guy do the work alone. But Mingyu was nowhere near giving up. You knew this because every time you miraculously ran into Mingyu, you had to run away from him, practically having to run away from him at some point.

It worked very well for a week until one day he simply appeared in front of you. You were distracted, your eyes glued to your phone. Jeonghan was gliding across the ice with skill when the player from the other team hit him hard, his body flying before falling to the ice. You felt the air get stuck in your lungs until he stood up, clearly irritated by what had happened. You felt like laughing when you saw the name on the other player's shirt, the one who had pushed Jeonghan. Choi. Best friends in real life, rivals on the ice.

“What are you looking at so focused?” a voice said next to him.

You felt like your heart was going to jump out of your chest as you tried to lock your phone and put it back in the bag. You wished you had been more graceful in the whole situation, to look less like someone who had been caught red-handed doing something they shouldn't have.

“Jeez, do you have no manners?” your voice came out louder than expected, causing some people around him to turn to see what was happening.

Beside you, Mingyu smiled, pleased with himself for having gotten some reaction beyond furrowed eyebrows and a look of disgust.

“Were you running away from me?” he raised his hand and corrected himself, “Not right now because you clearly had no idea I was here, but in general.” 

You rolled your eyes and quickened your pace. You didn’t really have anywhere to go or anything to do, there were still 50 minutes until your next class and there was no time to run home and hide. Would it be too pathetic to hide in the bathroom and wait for him to leave? With your luck, he would be waiting outside, even if it meant missing a class. 

“Why would I do that?” 

Mingyu crossed his arms over his chest. For the first time in your life, you wished someone was ugly, devoid of any kind of muscles or attractive qualities. You wished he was ugly, terrible to look at. You wished the sun wouldn’t make his skin shine, you wished you didn’t find the mole on the tip of his nose cute, wished you hadn’t wondered if maybe all this insistence of his didn’t have some extra reason, besides wanting to get the work done and obviously annoying you. Of all the things, you wished you hadn’t been disappointed when you hadn’t seen him for a day.

It was ridiculous, you knew it was. But whatever it may be, there you were, your heart pounding, feeling it throb in your neck. You wouldn’t fool yourself into thinking it was just because you were surprised by him suddenly being by your side. You could fool others, but at least you had to be fair to yourself.

“I don’t know, you tell me.”

Even though you knew it wasn’t a good idea, you stood still. You knew it would only attract more attention, it was almost inevitable when Mingyu was by your side. 

“Okay, I was. I don’t want to be seen with you.”

Mingyu looked confused, his head lolling to the side as if he was seriously thinking about what was happening. The question mark was clearly written on his face. It was almost as if one was floating above his head.

“Mingyu, look. You, in and of yourself, are not the problem. I mean, in part, it is, but you know, it's that old story, the problem is me, not you.”

“I honestly thought the problem was just the assignment.” He scratched his head, his eyebrows still furrowed. “You think I'm stupid and that kind of thing.”

You took a deep breath, your eyes closed for a second. You hadn't explained the situation to him, you had no reason to, so he had no way of knowing. But you also didn't want to expose your life to a stranger, so you weren’t willing to just tell secrets you’d never said out loud.

“If I tell you I’ll let you guys do your part, will you stop following me? It’s a little weird, and maybe even a little creepy.”

Your words were honest, it was weird and creepy at the same time. It didn’t make sense. Wouldn’t it be much easier for him, and for Seokmin, to just let you do everything yourself so they could focus on whatever was important to them? In your opinion, it was the easiest thing for everyone.

But Mingyu looked like a dog with a bone. A terrible analogy, but it made sense, at least to you.

“Yes,” a direct answer, great.

“Let’s do it like this then, let’s chat via text about the artists we think are cool, which are the most interesting. Once we’ve reached a consensus, we’ll get together to start making the models.”

You took a step back and held out your hand. A peace offering.

“We have a deal then.”

If regret killed, you would have been dead and buried so long ago that you would have turned into fertilizer. Logically, you knew that trusting Jeonghan was a mistake. You loved your brother with all your heart, but you also knew that he wasn't the most trustworthy person for certain things.

If you were in trouble and needed help? He was definitely the right guy for the job. He wouldn't say a word in a judgmental tone and, depending on the situation, he would go far enough to pretend it never happened. Now, if it was a request that he considered silly, then it was a lost cause. 

Besides all that, Jeonghan liked to play pranks, and you were one of his favorite victims. Things could even get a little out of hand when he and Seungcheol got together. It was like having two completely devilish older brothers. In truth, Seungcheol alone wasn't even that bad, but when he got together with Jeonghan it was like someone had opened the gates of hell. 

Even knowing all this, you had talked to him. You knew the house was his, that he could come and go as he pleased, but thought that if you played the little sister card well enough he would let it go.

"Some friends from college are coming over tomorrow, can you please not show up at home?" you asked, making your best puppy-dog-that-fell-out-of-the-moving-truck face.

"You don’t want me to meet your boyfriend?" he laughed, looking away from his phone for a second before returning his attention to the device.

You closed your eyes. Something was going on. Jeonghan was really into his phone, much more than usual. Either some nonsensical rumor had been published, which he would have already shown you and laughed along with you when he read the absurdities written; or he had a bone in his body, also known as a girlfriend. He always got more into his phone when he had someone more serious in his life.

It was useful information to have, so you put it in a little box in your mind labeled "something to blackmail Jeonghan with later" For now it was just speculation, but it could be important.

"How many boyfriends do you think I have?" You grimaced, shaking your head. “But no, none of them are my boyfriend. They’re just some guys I have to work with. I thought about doing it here because we need space and I’m sure I’ll yell at one of them sooner or later.”

You weren’t in the habit of bringing people home. Jeonghan was a person who really liked his private life to remain that way, private. Even with Kira, who was your closest friend, you had a hard time taking her home. Not because Jeonghan had asked. He knew that if you were asking, it was because you needed to or because you trusted those people enough to know who your brother was without it becoming a problem.

In fact, you weren’t sure of anything, not that you needed them or that you could trust them. But Jeonghan wasn’t one of those celebrities who had huge photos of themselves scattered around the house. It’s a little creepy, to be honest, he had said once. So the few photos he had around the living room were in normal-sized picture frames, which his mother had put up when she visited, so they could be easily hidden. The lie about the rich brother who works in the stock market was always on the tip of your tongue in case someone could question why you lived in a penthouse.

"I don't understand what's wrong with me being here then" His indifferent tone of voice was dangerous.

Maybe it would be better to give up.

"First because I don't need supervision, the virginity ship sailed a long time ago" 

It might be a good idea to talk about something he didn't like to talk about, like your past relationships. He could joke all he wanted, but at the end of the day, he was just a guy who didn't like knowing that his younger sister had boyfriends.

"For the love of god I don't need to know that in detail" He grimaced, pretending to vomit. He was such a good actor that he had even turned pale.

"And secondly, because they play hockey. Since there's no way they don't know who you are, I'd like to not witness another fanboy" 

You knew you had said the wrong thing when you noticed that gleam in Jeonghan's eyes. Even his expression had changed when you told him that your groupmates played hockey.

Still, you chose to believe him when he said he would be out of the house all day, that he would even go to Seungcheol's house after practice — which you thought was a lie, considering the whole situation with not putting down his phone and running when a notification came in. He had gone as far as to say, “let me know when it's over, so I can come home.” That's why you sent a message to the group chat with Seokmin and Mingyu asking if they had Tuesday night off.

A part of you, a very big part, thought they would deny it and make up any excuse not to show up, but it was almost as if they both had their phones in their hands waiting for your message.

And so, the three of you were sitting at Jeonghan's huge dining table. It was the kind of furniture that existed only to take up space, you always ate in the kitchen.

“You live well” Seokmin commented.

It was funny, and almost cute, how completely clumsy he was. You had bought different types of materials to test, thinking about which one would work best. Seokmin had changed several times, the last attempt was the biscuit.

“My brother earns well” you shrugged, hoping he wouldn't ask anymore.

To your surprise, he didn't ask. Which was a relief, you didn't want to lie.

Even without looking up, you knew Mingyu was looking at you. He didn't try to hide it at all. It was uncomfortable, but at the same time, it was flattering.

You rested your chin on your hand and stared at him too. Ever since the first day you had seen him in class, you had the feeling that you knew him. You didn't know where from, you didn't know how. It wasn't from college, it wasn't from the posters spread around, or from the fame he had. It was from before, before college, but you didn't know where. You were sure he wasn't in any of the courses you took and he wasn't from your school either, there was no hockey team.

“Where do I know you from?” the words came from your lips, but it was a question asked much more to you than to him.

Mingyu simply tilted his head to the side and didn't say a single word. Seokmin, who until then had his head down, his brow furrowed in concentration trying to shape the white mass in his hands, looked up, almost startled by your words.

It was as if a light bulb had been turned on over your head. It was so ridiculously obvious that you would be able to kick yourself.

And with perfect timing, as if it had been sent from heaven, programmed to the exact seconds, you heard the living room door open. A second later, Jeonghan was in the room.

“Mingyu?” Jeonghan said, his eyes darting from side to side, trying to understand what was happening.

“Captain,” Mingyu said, smiling.

You wished a hole the size of Mount Everest would open up beneath your feet and swallow you whole as you watched Mingyu stand up and greet Jeonghan as if they were old friends who hadn’t seen each other in years.

That was obviously true.

“You know each other” It wasn’t a question, it was a simple statement.

“Yes? Mingyu is a few years younger, but we played on the same team.”

Suddenly a brief movie flashed through your head, of all the times you had seen Mingyu — or at least the times that were never erased. Mingyu walking next to Jeonghan one of the times you were waiting for your brother in the school parking lot, him at the games, sitting on the bench completely irritated by the fact that he couldn’t play and the team was losing. He was a boy who was clearly too skinny, but somehow he had become that man in front of you.

“She doesn’t remember me,” Mingyu said with a laugh.

Was that a hint of resentment you heard in his voice? You hoped not, but maybe if you were in his shoes you would be resentful too. You hoped he hadn’t talked to you that first day because he expected you to recognize him and every time after that. Because most of the time you had been a complete jerk to him.

“Wow, you saw him literally every day for at least two years.”

It wasn’t like you weren’t already embarrassed enough on your own, of course, Jeonghan, in his best big brother role, had to add fuel to the fire. You hoped your cheeks weren’t as red as you felt them hot.

If the smile on Mingyu’s lips was any indication, you were completely screwed.

“I only remember Cheol. He was the only one you let get close to me.”

It was a futile attempt to defend yourself, but it was the only excuse you had. It was also the truth.

“That’s true,” Mingyu agreed, sitting back down.

It wasn’t a big secret that Jeonghan had forbidden all his teammates from getting close to you. It wasn’t like you desperately wanted their company anyway, so it was a win-win arrangement.

“You were a pain in the ass,” which was just another shovel of dirt for someone who was already buried, right?

“I was protecting you? The guys on the team…” he tried to defend himself, feigning offense.

You simply waved your hand at him, dismissing any kind of explanation he might have offered.

“They were teenagers full of testosterone and hormones. Not much has changed, you know.”

The three of them were startled when Seokmin slammed the table, his eyes wide as he stared at Jeonghan. For a few minutes, you had forgotten he was there.

“You are Yoon Jeonghan’s sister?” His voice had suddenly become shrill to the point of echoing in the room.

The laugh that escaped your lips was partly incredulous and partly desperate. Mingyu remembered you, but he hadn’t told anyone—not even his teammate—probably because he remembered it was something you kept people from knowing. In a way, you knew your secret's safe with him. But you didn’t know if you could trust Seokmin in the same way.

“He’s kind of slow sometimes.”

Mingyu pushed Seokmin out the door, hoping he would finally stop talking. His friend hadn’t realized the discomfort he had caused you yet. Jeonghan, as always, didn’t seem to care and on some level, he actually seemed to enjoy all the attention he was getting.

“It’s been a while since someone got this excited to see me,” he said, laughing when Seokmin went to the bathroom.

Either Jeonghan hadn’t realized how quiet you had been, or he had simply chosen not to do anything about it. Mingyu couldn’t be sure of the older man’s intentions, not at that moment or when they were still at school.

But you? You were like an open book, almost begging to be read. You obviously didn’t say a word, but your face showed how uncomfortable you were with the whole situation, how embarrassed you were for not remembering Mingyu as soon as you saw him.

Without you noticing, Mingyu spent a lot of time observing you. In a way, it was easy to know what you were thinking. Of course, a lot had changed in the years you hadn't seen each other, but many things were still the same.

“He won't tell anyone about your brother.”

Mingyu pushed Seokmin again, this time towards the elevator, and turned to you, who was holding the door, your gaze almost lost.

“It's okay.” you took a deep breath before straightening your spine and forcing a smile. “Eventually, everyone will know.”

He shook his head and put his hand on your shoulder, leaning his body forward slightly so his eyes were leveled with yours.

“You have my word,” he promised, voice low “Seokmin won't open his mouth. Your secret will still be a secret.”

You nodded, but Mingyu knew the gesture was just to make him leave faster.

“You should go,” you said before closing the door, without waiting for Mingyu's response.

If he could, he would suffocate Seokmin right there in the hallway, but then the security cameras would see him and that would become a problem. He entered the elevator in silence and pressed the button for the ground floor. Beside him, Seokmin was practically thrilled with the discovery he had made an hour ago.

“When you said you knew her from your old school, I would never have imagined that,” he said, laughing. “I thought she was a girl who went to the same school as you.”

Mingyu chose to remain silent. He expected Seokmin to eventually get tired and simply stop talking, but he should have known better. His friend had too much energy to simply stop. In fact, it was a surprise that he had managed to stay quiet for two hours before Jeonghan arrived. And even after he arrived, Seokmin had remained standing in the same place. He spoke faster than ever and looked at Jeonghan as if he were seeing a god in person, but still, standing in the same place.

God knew it was almost impossible to convince Seokmin to stay still for long.

“I don’t understand why she hides the fact that she’s his sister. It’s basically the nicest thing anyone can say. Imagine going around saying ‘my brother is Yoon Jeonghan’”

Mingyu sighed and crossed his arms and sighed, rolling his eyes. Of course, he would.

“Remember that time your sister complained that a girl tried to befriend her because she wanted to go out with you?”

“It happened a few times, actually.”

Mingyu stayed silent, waiting for all the dots to connect in Seokmin’s head without him having to actually say the words. Under normal circumstances, Seokmin would have understood and kept quiet, but he was too excited after meeting an idol god to realize the full context Mingyu was trying to give him.

“That happens to her all the time. She didn’t even go to the same school as us. She really does everything so no one knows she’s his sister. Didn’t you notice there’s no picture of them at home?”

Seokmin laughed, as if the question was too stupid, causing Mingyu to narrow his eyes.

“Dude, you’re the one who’s into her, not me. I don’t care about whose picture is in her house.”

Would anyone find it a problem if Mingyu strangled Seokmin until he passed out and then took him back home? In Mingyu’s eyes, he would be doing everyone around him a favor. It would be a night of silence and peace for everyone involved — in this case, just him, but no one needed to know about it.

“Either way, you can’t tell anyone about this,” he warned once more.

He had made a promise to you and he would rather cut off an arm than break it.

“Not even to the team?”

Mingyu scratched his head before crossing his arms again, with much more force than necessary. Finally, the elevator reached the ground floor and Seokmin was faster than Mingyu to get out, almost running down the hall to the gate.

Mingyu briefly greeted the doorman with a nod before following his friend.

“Especially to the team. No one can know. It's like a federal secret, you know?”

Mingyu grabbed Seokmin by the arm, making his friend stop and look at him. He hoped it would be enough for him to understand that he wasn't kidding, that it wasn't some kind of joke.

"Jeez, so much drama."

He got away from his friend and quickly opened the car door and got into the passenger seat.

Once again, Mingyu took a deep breath, his eyes closed. Maybe he shouldn't have promised you anything, not when the promise had nothing to do with him, and when there was a possibility of everything going wrong, then he would have to bear the burden of someone else's mistake.

"Seokmin," your voice was a warning tone. He opened the car door.

"I won't say anything!" his friend almost shouted.

"You're terrible at keeping secrets," he sighed, almost defeated.

"Nobody knows that you're actually super smart," Seokmin scoffed. "I never told on you, you know."

When you finally managed to get Mingyu and Seokmin to leave, you were beyond exhausted. It was late, already past 10 pm and you had to wake up early for class the next day. At least you would fall into bed without much trouble and you were sure that you would black out almost instantly. Except for the idea that from that moment on it was likely that the entire college would know who your brother was.

You always knew that this day would come, you just hoped it wouldn't be during college, a college that had a good hockey team — well, it was almost unfair, they were fantastic — and that lived and breathed the sport. If the news really needed to get out, you wanted it to happen when you were far away from there, in an environment where few people would like the sport. Of course, you were living off stereotypes, but you preferred to believe that you wouldn't have many colleagues who liked the sport, or that if they did, they would be indifferent.

With a sigh, you began to gather the materials that were scattered around the table, cleaning up the mess left behind. Seokmin wasn't wrong when he said that Mingyu was more skilled than expected. The prototype he made was delicate and almost perfect. Working with him wouldn't be complicated at all. With Seokmin too. He was more absent-minded, but he wasn't bad either. He could do the rough part of the work and you would refine it until it was perfect.

“Sis”

Jeonghan's voice sounded behind you and you chose not to answer. You were irritated with him for so many reasons that you didn't even know where to start, or what to say to him. You had made it explicitly clear why you didn't want him home. And, although he had never necessarily liked your reasons, Jeonghan had always respected you. If you said you didn't want something, he accepted it. But this time he had crossed all the limits.

“Sister” he tried again, this time a step closer to you.

You rested your hands on the table and leaned your body forward. 

“You know, I know that I live in your house, that you’re the one paying for my college, and that all the comfort I have here is because you pay for everything, so you can kind of do whatever you want. But this is my life.” 

You continued to put the things in the box and went to your room. You didn’t close the door because you knew Jeonghan would follow you. 

“I don’t understand what’s wrong with people knowing that I’m your brother.” 

You shook your head as you sat on the bed. He clearly didn’t understand, he never had, but he had always respected it. Apparently not anymore. 

“It’s not middle school anymore and you’re not 13 anymore. Just tell them all to go to hell,” he tried to reason, sitting in front of you. 

Jeonghan’s eyes were affectionate, without a hint of judgment. He just wanted to understand what was going on, because it was so important to you that people didn’t know.

“I didn’t change schools because girls were all over me because they wanted your number. I can’t say it didn’t affect my decision and it was the perfect excuse. But that wasn’t all.”

You didn’t know how to continue, didn’t know how to say everything without Jeonghan getting upset. Because you were sure he would.

“I didn’t want to be compared to you anymore.”

Your voice was almost a whisper and you didn’t dare look up, or in Jeonghan’s direction. You didn’t want to see the look of disappointment on his face, because you knew he would be disappointed. Not because you were feeling that way, but because you never told him anything.

“The teachers always talked about how smart you were, that despite sports you always got good grades. And I remember how you were back then, and you barely tried, but you were good at everything. I tried so hard and it was never enough.”

With each word that left your mouth, your voice got lower and weaker. When you said the words out loud, when they weren’t just cloistered in your mind anymore, they sounded almost pathetic. Jeonghan had never put any kind of pressure on you, quite the opposite. Your brother always made sure that you were you, an individual different from him.

All the ideas and traumas you had were not directly caused by Jeonghan but somehow had to do with him.

Jeonghan sighed loudly and leaned forward until he could hold your hand.

“Being good at school doesn’t mean anything, it’s just school. No one cares about it after a while.”

The laugh you let out was one of complete mockery. Jeonghan really had no idea what could be going through your head, the things that had happened and were still happening. Not that you blamed him for that, he had no way of knowing if you didn’t tell him what was going on, but part of you just wanted him to pay attention. If he paid attention, even the slightest bit, he would know.

The fact that he didn’t understand was painful.

If it were just the school teachers, it would be fine. Like he said, no one cares about school after a while. Do you know who cares about school, regardless of the moment? Parents. Parents who aren't necessarily bad, just parents who think that comparing one child to another is an excellent incentive. An incentive so good that they still do it.

Deep down you know that it's not out of malice, that it's not because they want to see you down, but it's an inevitable consequence. And, in a way, they were already so intrinsic in the conversations, little notes that didn't even seem like real comments, that you were sure that Jeonghan didn't even notice them.

"Okay," you said, just wanting to end the conversation. "I'll talk to both of them tomorrow, and apologize to Mingyu."

Jeonghan nodded, knowing full well that the conversation was over and that even if he pressed, he wouldn't be able to get anything else out of you.

"I have to leave early tomorrow," he said, "but if you want, can we have dinner together and talk about it?"

"I'll accept dinner, but I'll skip the talk."

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[wttcsms]

when you know, you know, atsumu miya ;

pairing atsumu miya x f!reader word count 1k synopsis atsumu considers marriage to be a trap, until he realizes that even a lifetime commitment to you isn't long enough content contains fluff, talks of marriage!!!! he's a softie

It starts off like this: nobody sees Atsumu Miya getting married — not now, not ever, not in the foreseeable future, nor in any of the millions of alternate and parallel universes that may or may not exist.

You’re just not the type of person we see settling down. 

Yeah, that might be true, but it still stings a little. It stings when he sees the white picket fences, and the cars with the MY KID’S AN HONOR STUDENT bumper stickers. It stings when he happens to accidentally catch a rerun of those family-centered sitcoms; the ones where they argue during the day and make up at night, with some cliche moral to the over dramatic situations that have occurred onscreen fifteen minutes ago. It stings when he watches his teammates get engaged and he has to congratulate them — he’s genuinely happy for them, don’t get him wrong — but still… 

It doesn’t matter. Atsumu Miya has long since held the firm belief that he’s just not the type of person the whole “fall in love, get married, have a family, cue the domesticity cuteness overload” schtick is meant for. Besides, it’s not like it’s something he’s spent years obsessing over (maybe months, at most). 

He rationalizes his bachelor status (that’s been a part of him for so long that it’s getting to become somewhat of a red flag for potential girlfriends) as him being the only one left with his priorities straight. After all, he doesn't have to worry about things like parent-teacher conferences or crayon drawings on the wall or trying to buy flowers to make sure the wife isn’t too mad when he comes home late. 

After all, he tells everyone, settling down is still settling. 

And Atsumu Miya, under no circumstances, ever settles.

Which is an ideal he clings to with such a tight grip, if it were flesh and blood, it would be suffocating. He doesn’t, he decides after a while, believe in marriage. 

(That is to say: he doesn’t believe that it’s possible for him. 

It’s not what he says explicitly, but it’s what he truly means.) 

So, when he tells you this on your second date, you’re a little stunned, but you’re quick to recover. Okay… So that’s the explanation you’ve been waiting for. The reason why this six feet two inches tall professional athlete with a bank account he generously withdraws money from has been single for so long is because he doesn’t believe in marriage. 

Other than that, he’s been nothing but great. Near perfect. So, all you do is nod and continue on with the original topic of the conversation. Eventually, your budding romance blooms into something much bigger than either of you ever anticipated or saw coming, and while you yourself have never mentioned the M-word after that date, it’s all Atsumu can think about right now. 

Marriage.

The concept of it looms over your relationship; a perpetual gray cloud that threatens to flood this perfect little relationship and have it all go down the drain. You never brought it up after he basically told you he would never marry anyone, and he never brought it up purely because — well — he’s a bit of a coward. 

He’s the type of person who’s set on his own convictions, by the way. If his balls ever drop, and he decides to Man Up, he figures he’ll start the conversation just like that. His stubbornness is nothing new to you, but him figuring out that he might be wrong makes his stomach feel funny. It’s sick and twisted. 

“Hey, what do you want for dinner tonight? I’m at the store right now, and I’m in the mood to cook.” He can picture it clearly: you, standing in one of the grocery store aisles, phone balanced in between your ear and shoulder as you compare the ingredients of the name brand and generic cereal. 

He’s in the locker room, about to pack up his gym bag (that you’ll complain reeks) and head back to his apartment (that’s starting to feel a lot more like yours, with the way your skincare products dominate the bathroom counter), and it hits him so suddenly, he has to sit back down on the bench. 

Atsumu Miya thinks that marriage isn’t for him, and as a defense mechanism, he decides that marriage sucks anyway. But through the tinny speakers of his phone, he can hear you toss something in the shopping cart. He hears the faint crying of a toddler in the background, and then he starts to think about what it would be like to walk around the store with a baby that takes after you. Right now, you’re already sleeping in the same bed with him at least four times out of the week, but it would be perfect, he thinks, to get the privilege to wake up to you every morning.

“Atsumu?” You try to get his attention, and Atsumu tries to ignore the warm and fuzzy feeling he gets when he considers a future with you. Settling down is still settling, he tells himself, and then he thinks of the way you looked when you caught the bouquet at a friend’s wedding. The pleased smile on your face, the triumphant way you held the flowers over your head, head thrown back in glee; you looked absolutely radiant. You caught his eye, and you quickly lowered your hands, giving him a sheepish grin. 

He realizes now that if anyone is settling, it’s you. You don’t know that he notices the way you tear up at weddings, or how excited you sound when you get back from dress shopping with one of your friends. You want to get married, and the only thing stopping you is him.

He’s spent ages deluding himself into thinking that he’s somehow losing if he decides to trap himself into a marriage with someone, but no one can accuse him of settling when it’s you he’s marrying. You’re the prize. You’re the only person in the world he wants to give his last name and an obnoxiously big ring to. 

“Make whatever you want, baby. I’ll eat anything.” He’s checking the locations for the nearest jewelers in his immediate vicinity. “I might be a little late, though. I have to check on something.” 

[nananamiin]

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐌𝐞𝐧 - 🤍

tw || sukuna is himself 💀 also this is written in my opinion and own headcanon. pls tell me what u think! :3 might make part 2

𝗦𝗮𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘂 𝗚𝗼𝗷𝗼 — ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ — 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗦𝘁𝗿𝗼𝗻𝗴𝗲𝘀𝘁

I can’t honestly see Gojo maintaining a long term relationship without him having self destructive tendencies. He’s not exactly a bad boyfriend, he’s surprisingly patient (learned trait as a teacher) and realistic, even cynical on a lot of subjects. But he’s has seen a lot, done a lot and been through a lot. His world has been shaken, destroyed and rearranged so he feels genuine unease and insecurity when he thinks his life is beginning to have some type of stability for once. Which can become Gojo becoming oddly unsure of himself.

He doesn’t understand a lot about himself even at 28 years old, which translates to him struggling to understand where he stands with you. He adores you, in the same way he adored Geto. Hell, he might love you in a more romantic manner than he loved Geto but that doesn’t change the fact that often when you two alone he’s in his own world. He doesn’t mean to be distant, but he overthinks a lot. He thinks and thinks and thinks and he gets lost in it. You have to reel him in. He’ll learn to overcome this bad habit if you give him some encouragement and help.

Always somewhere doing something fighting God knows what. It’s nerve wracking to see him come home after what seems like a week of him just in missions. This can really strain your relationship with Gojo and if it’s a casual thing, then I can’t see him putting too much effort into it. If it’s serious, he will try but try and do are two different things.

Not a very sexual man, he doesn’t have time to sit down and think about sex. He’s comfortable being without it for the rest of his natural life, honestly. When he was a teen, of course he was hormonal and moody. But now as an adult, he thinks of it differently. It’s not a necessity nor does he seek it out. Of course he won’t mind if you initiate it. It’d just be rare for him to make sexual advances on you unprompted. He also values consent A LOT. He hates things going unspoken because it wasn’t until relatively recently did Gojo truly did begin to understand people in general, so he wants you to be clear with him on basically everything.

His students, his work as a teacher, it means everything to him. It grounds him when he’s busy thinking about what if he had gone with Geto, what if Toji hadn’t appeared, what if he wasn’t the strongest, so you have to value that too. That’s a given in a relationship with Gojo and he might put his students before you. If it becomes serious and long term, he might want you to meet his students at some point.

THE master of bad puns and jokes. There’ll be a lot of unserious nights watching him reorganize his Digimon cards into his special folder for the 10th time or watch a romcom with him, just the two of you. These are moments Gojo loves and cherishes. He cherishes what you make him feel.

He can’t help but fall in love. He’s desperately wanting to be who people think he is, to be professional, to understand the role given to him, but he’s human. And he can’t deny it to himself that when he lays down and does his daily routine of overthinking, his brain goes to you. And he has a disdain for it. The last time he got this close to someone…well, they’re not that close anymore. Gojo wants to be both the strongest and the man he wishes he could be for you. But there’ll be times he can’t be that man, he has to be the strongest because society needs him. And it’s emotionally taxing to both him and you.

Let’s be real, we aren’t him. We as people aren’t anything like Gojo so we don’t understand what it’s like being the sorcerer everyone turns to when shit hits the fan, nor will we ever carry that burden (I hope not). And that creates tension. Gojo is disconnected with people which can go both ways for misunderstandings. He’s frustrated at himself that he can’t be what he wants to be and he’s frustrated at you for not being like him (maybe he’s even frustrated you’re not like Geto in the way you can’t understand him.) You’re frustrated because you just can’t always grasp the severity or the way of life with being the strongest sorcerer and also frustrated because it’s just creating tension. But it’s not hopeless! He’s learned that people do care for him beyond just his titles. And he’s learned that communication can make or break a relationship.

If you two overcome your differences, your fears, and become a long term thing it’s his LIFELINE. You are priority number one. That selfish, pretentious part of him really comes back, it really shines through when it comes to you. You’re one part of his life that doesn’t depend on his strength, on this idea of his power bordering deity status. You’re everything to him by not treating him so holy. And God he won’t fuck it up. I can’t see him cheating, not even accidentally. He won’t fuck around, because his devotion is so deep. And he expects devotion back. He’s not possessive but you’re his.

𝗞𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗼 𝗡𝗮𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗶 — ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ — 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗥𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗮𝗯𝗹𝗲

Probably the best dating option out of all the JJK men lmfao. He’s responsible, impossibly patient, open minded, kind, humane and very intelligent. Not to mention, he’s hot! He’s a total hunk with brains which is perfect for basically anyone. And he’s pretty sane, so that’s also a plus. He’d probably be the easiest to the date. He won’t compare you to his exes, he won’t ditch you, he’s great at communication and he’s shockingly very blunt about his emotions. And that can make everything much easier as he’s not very secretive. Also he’s very attentive to your emotions, it’s scary. He has to read people and situations quick to survive his missions so he has this eerie habit of reading your features scarily accurate.

He’s quick to judge character or misunderstand someone, though. If someone’s coming off as rude or as arrogant, Nanami takes them at face value. He doesn’t do soul searching psycho analyzing bullshit, if you’re a dick then you’re a dick regardless of whatever happened to make you a dick. Yes, he’s attentive and emotionally intelligent but in his field of work, he’s seen a lot of genuine freaks and weirdos. So he doesn’t think twice before judging someone.

He absolutely does NOT want you to be in any sorcerer problem. No. He can’t handle that. You could be as strong as Sukuna and he’s still battling himself on whether or not he should sit you down and talk to you about it. He doesn’t care if it’s selfish, he doesn’t care if the higher ups argue with him, the idea of you in this field of work haunts him and he hates it. Even if it helps people, he hates it because he knows at any moment you could be harmed or worse. Just this once let him be selfish in having you when all he’s ever done is be selfless and humane.

This may or may not upset some of y’all but Nanami is not a daddy dom. He doesn’t really care for sex much like Gojo. If it happens, it happens. But if it doesn’t happen, he doesn’t care. He’s plain vanilla and he hates kinky shit simply because it just gives him a bad taste. He prefers if sex comes much much later in a relationship since he’s very traditional in the sense he wants a model family. Not to say he’s a slut shamer (my king is NOT.) but he will absolutely not find the basis of a good relationship from a one night stand. Or maybe he will, who knows? He just wants stability that won’t come from someone fleeting is all.

He will stare blankly at a man joking about you in anyway that’s mean spirited. That shit does not go with him because he will actually visibly roll his eyes and make a rude statement. Never ever think someone will disrespect you in his presence because he’d actually rather listen to Gojo’s Digimon rants than ever let anyone disrespect you. Even if you’re casual with him, you’re funny if you think it won’t become serious with him. He has this charm to him that’ll draw you to him. Can you tell I am in love?

99% of the time, it’s serious. Casual isn’t something he has the time for. It’s serious and long term. Which means he expects for you to be committed, honest, loyal and humble. He can’t stand someone who isn’t those things and if you don’t embody that then he won’t give you the time of day. He doesn’t play games, he doesn’t do situationships. It’s all or nothing with Nanami because tomorrow he might not be able to visit you. And you bet your ass he’ll do a background check on you. He’s SERIOUS.

He might falter in the way he can’t express himself at times. He’s so used to just mindlessly staring off into space about the shit that happens to him that he sort of forgets he can also speak to you about his problems. And as mature as Nanami is, he does have his moods. He gets grumpy, he gets bitchy, he gets upset, but he won’t take it out on you. He’ll just silently deal with it himself, because that’s the way he’s learned to handle the problems. It gets to a point that it’s unhealthy and he knows it, so he’s stuck in that situation of being aware of his shortcomings but he feels like he can’t do much about it. It’s an awkward hell he can often trap himself in.

There’ll be some nights, where everything’s dead, everything’s still. It’s just you and him in bed. And he suddenly just tears up and hugs you. And he silently sobs into your chest, clutching you like you’re his safety net. Because you are, he relies on you for normalcy. For love, for peace. And the way he needs it is like an addict needing their next fix. That’s why he’s so adamant about you not coming close to his line of work, because he doesn’t want to start coming to terms with that. He’ll be dependent on you for emotional support because like every other sorcerer, Nanami has seen things that would leave the average man a shell of his former self. And sometimes Nanami cries to you because he’s so afraid that yes, he is a shell of who he was. You have to reassure him he isn’t.

An emotionally driven person despite his professional look. He’s a kind, sweet guy at the end of the day who I can never see doing a mistake too unforgivable or having a flaw too deep that it can’t be overlooked. He’s another man with you, a softer man. A man that lays with you simply watching a stupid movie because he’s got the time. And in that time, he feels normal. He feels average. It’s funny; he left his salary job to be a sorcerer so he shouldn’t have any room to complain about normalcy since it was his choice. But still, we all strive for stability and a peaceful life. And it’s not a crime for him to want it too, you tell him.

𝗧𝗼𝗷𝗶 𝗙𝘂𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗴𝘂𝗿𝗼 — ⚝ ⫘⫘⫘ ⚝ — 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗔𝘀𝘀𝗮𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗻

I’m going to need every Toji stan to be so ridiculously for real and sit down and listen to me when I say this man is trouble. He’s hot I can’t deny that but my god, he’s like an amalgamation of bad decisions. He’d do casual dating solely to leech off of you if you have money and that’s UBER broke man activities. He’s also the type to have situationships he just either ghosts or ditches because he does not see it as worth it. Or he’d blow money like it’s nothing because he just doesn’t have impulse control when it comes to horse racing. He’s like a walking red flag when it comes to casual dating.

He’s down for casual sex but I can’t see him starting a relationship based on casual sex. So if you want something with him, it’s hard to start it simply because this man will identify that effort and shut it off or not reciprocate it. He thinks you’re nice, he thinks you’re sweet, but that’s about it. Toji can be very iffy when it comes relationships. He wants something out of it, so you’d probably enter it knowing he has ulterior motives out of it. Sex isn’t a big deal to him anymore, he can’t see it as a big deal. It’s just something he does to stroke his ego and to help himself when he’s in a mood. His way of being can be hedonistic. And destructive.

But, he isn’t just sex and gambling and eating. He is a broken man with a twisted way of love and caring because of the unfortunate circumstances he was raised in. And that isn’t up to anyone but him to fix. So don’t expect to fix him, because Toji won’t do it himself. He’s not a helpless case but I can’t see Toji doing much outside of just acknowledging it. He’s also very VERY touchy on his past and on you trying to get closer to him besides anything that’s casual couple things. It’s possible for him to open up and be personal, but again remember he was raised in an abusive situation so he views things and himself differently than others. His understanding of the world is bleak.

Would he cheat? No. Probably not. He might see a good looking chick and stare for too long or might make a comment to himself but Toji wouldn’t cheat. It’s not worth the screaming and breakup texts and comments. He’s not the smartest man alive but he knows better. And to be brutally honest, he thinks it won’t last long with you. That’s just how it is with him most of the time. He doesn’t see the need to cheat because A.) Either you or him will ditch the other or B.) The mess is too much to clean up.

He doesn’t really care what your input on his income and wasteful lifestyle is, it’s how he lives. And nobody tells him what to do. He didn’t leave the Zenin just to be told off by a person he’s seeing casually. And he hates it when someone does that. It’s his life, not yours. But like I said before—Toji isn’t stupid. He is intelligent and resourceful. If he sees you truly, honestly, genuinely wanting someone and trying then maybe as you two are sat at another dinner date he looks over. And maybe as he looks over, he’ll see that same type of sheer joy he saw so long ago in her eyes. And maybe after years living his lifestyle, does Toji think to himself that maybe you won’t flee if he stops being this pompous persona.

If every star aligns for it to happen, he’ll become gentler during sex. He’ll start to think twice before overspending on betting tickets, he’ll start to walk you to your home. He’s not impossible to work with but he’s extremely closed off and shut off from anything romantic after losing his wife. Selfishly, Toji compares every lover after her to her and he sneers at the thought of them ever measuring up to her. And yet here he finds himself awkwardly wanting to say more to you. But he can’t open his trap.

He’s super not sure how to do PDA. Back then, she’d initiate everything. So he’s left scratching at his head on how to show affectionate again in a way that isn’t sex or fake. If he really starts to feel for you, he’s going the extra step to make sure you’re on the inside of the sidewalk and he’s right beside you. I feel like that’s the extent he can really show his affection, by doing really menial tasks people don’t think twice about. His hand lingers on yours when he hands you some groceries, his eyes stay on you as you talk. He hasn’t done this serious relationship crap since forever.

You’re gonna have to correct a lot of behavior from him which is exhausting. You’re gonna have to tell him again and again you’re not his dead wife so he can’t compare apples to oranges. You’re not there for him to rely on to change his way for because you’re not a therapist, you’re his partner. You’re not here for him to constantly depend on you emotionally to fix his deeper rooted problems, that’s on him. He’s a lovely man when he’s not constantly full of the negative things. But at his worst, he’s a dependent wreck who’s always thinking of her.

If Toji really really does love you, he’ll go beyond the world for you. He’ll kill and maim for you, he’d devote his life savings to your future with him. You’d become something he cherishes more than money, more than his hedonistic tendencies, you’re everything. The air he breathes, the warm breeze, you’re his life. And he won’t lose you. He won’t sabotage himself to lose something he built good for himself and for you. He’d honest to God turn his life around. But again, old habits die hard especially pertaining to Toji. So who knows if he’d really be up for it.

𝗥𝘆ō𝗺𝗲𝗻 𝗦𝘂𝗸𝘂𝗻𝗮 — ⋆ 𓆩☠︎︎𓆪 ⋆ — 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗞𝗶𝗻𝗴

No. Just no. Absolutely not. Let me say it this way; Sukuna genuinely has disinterest in anything that isn’t mass murder with a capital M. He’d literally do everything in his power to be the most heart breaking, bigoted boyfriend imaginable. He’s a wretched son of a bitch. He’s the biggest red flag of the entire series. Sukuna is quite disinterested in romance and relationships as a whole.

He’s a fun villain but as a lover? This man would not hesitate to be a terrible person. He has no problems beating his fucking nephew and murdering children, he has no problem being terrible with you. The only reason I can see him dating you is simply because he’s bored and he wants to see what the fuss is kinda like how he eat popcorn and drank soda in Shibuya. But don’t get it twisted, it’s all on HIS terms. HIS rules. He doesn’t give a shit what you care about or worry for. Your role as his partner is to follow what he says and if you don’t? You’re the next pile of human mush.

If you were of use to him like Uraume, he might consider you something worthy. His relationship with Uraume proves that he can choose a more amicable and stable relationship but let’s be for real, he wouldn’t especially if you’re not as strong as him or someone like Gojo. You’d be a plaything at best. And he doesn’t share his plaything. Even with Uraume, it’s a relationship that benefits him personally so you’d have to provide something of that nature for him to consider you as much as he does Uraume. And good luck avoiding all the comparison he will do to Uraume, he’s toxic LOL.

This can either go two ways which are 1.) you are his favored plaything. And that comes with pros and cons. The pros are that you’re somewhat under the protection of THE Sukuna. That’s about it for the pros because he’d be a possessive, controlling, dominating manchild who would expect you to bend to his whims and any backtalk would be met either a backhand or god knows what else from him. I pray for you if you stand too close to his male servants because they’d be ripped in half simply because one glanced at you. You’d be super isolated, your entire world would just revolve around him whether or not you agree with him. He’d probably stroke your hair not out of love, but as if you’re his pet. His possession. And god forbid you do something he doesn’t like. That leads to him making your life an entire inconvenience to the highest degree.

Impatient and would probably roll his eyes and gaslight you at every turn and tell me I’m wrong. He’d probably laugh and clap if you fell and sprained your ankle.

The second option would be the Uraume route which is a subordinate that can provide him something that’ll be in service to him. I imagine he’d be the biggest bitch ever and very particular so you’d have to deal with him but the benefit of that would be the fact that he’d let you stand close to him and have him cross his bottom two arms over his thick, muscled chest whilst one hand rests on the small of your back to keep you close to him as he overlooks his destruction. It sounds insane but I can see him thinking better of you after sometime as his subordinate. And even in this route I feel like the possessive, selfish streak will continue because you’re actually funny if you think Sukuna’s selfishness has any stops. He will be selfish and probably bodyblock anybody from staring at you.

I can see why Gege wants him so bad though he’s so fine

Honestly, with sex I feel like he really would not give a shit. I mean yes, he has his group of women, but it bores him. Sex doesn’t thrill him unlike fighting, unlike the ability to wreak havoc to a small town that has no choice nor power to defend itself. He understands sexual attraction but I can’t see Sukuna acting on it. He might find you attractive enough to keep you locked up in a dungeon or in a chamber but I feel like he wouldn’t exactly seek you out. You’re more of an afterthought to Sukuna. And you better be comfortable with that because with him around that’s not changing.

Best case scenario? You mean something to him like a useful subordinate he WOULDN’T kill alongside his other servants. He’d like someone resourceful, quick on their feet, intelligent, witty and someone who can understand him which is really weird to say about someone who would skin a grandma. He wants someone to just get him off the bat because I really feel like Sukuna judges hard, especially if you’re someone he’s seriously considering giving respect.

[wndaswife]

(fic request) pls write this w nun!wanda (if you want) 😵😵😵

to worship and submit | wanda maximoff & fem!reader

Being the daughter of the man that leads the church choir means attending the services when you run out of excuses to be anywhere else, but a young woman who's recently joined the parish to become a nun has begun to make your time there worthwhile.

Word count: 7419

Tags: smut, fluff, humour, sacrilege, quite literally fucking in front of a crucifix, even i feel slightly guilty for writing it, strap-ons, rough sex, spanking, slapping, spitting, degradation, praise, daddy kink, mentions of masturbation, sub!wanda maximoff, dom!reader | MINORS DNI

A/N: SO... i did do some research for this fic... but only SOME... meaning some of the info may be incorrect fyi!!!

gif credit to evilly

Every Sunday since your dad joined the church as their choir leader, you’d been making yourself busy in advance just in case he’d ask if you wanted to come to the services. 

You were proud of your dad — really, you were — because he loved music and loved the community the church brought him, and the church was closeby to where your mom worked as an elementary school teacher, so your parents were able to work together when there were community events that involved both the school and the church.

Though, being happy for your dad didn’t mean you also had to be happy when he invited you to the services.

Sometimes you’d attend special occasions like Easter and other holidays and church events wherein your dad prepared his own assortment of music and such for the choir to play, but only because you were there to support him and what he was passionate about — music and community and his family.

Such events were big deals at the church he volunteered at because it was well-known for its large community; the church itself was closely connected to a nearby convent where it had close ties to the nunnery there, as well as having one of if not the most ornate architecture all preserved within a historically-significant religious landmark.

But for the last few weeks, he hadn’t asked you to go with him because he was so busy with the new influx of students joining from the Catholic elementary school your mom worked at; they were all there singing on the weekends for their volunteer hours, but at the very least, your dad said they were still enthusiastic and friendly kids.

So on the morning of one of the very rare occasions in which you hadn’t had anything planned for the Sunday because you weren’t expecting him to invite you as he hadn’t for the last while, your dad invited you to the service.

You could’ve truly made up an excuse and flat-out lied about being busy, but it’d been a while since he asked and you knew he’d been working hard with the new students in his group, so you supposed it wasn’t so much trouble to accept his offer, even if you did groan it out in a superficial fit about having to get out of bed earlier.

It wasn’t that you not being religious had anything major to do with avoiding going to church, because you didn’t entirely mind when your religious parents brought you to the services for special occasions, but rather because you didn’t very much have the patience or sufficient concern for the readings and worship to attend the nearly-two-hour services.

That was truly your most pressing issue with attending the Sunday services with your dad, but today was different, with an unexpected experience to make you dread going even more than you did previously.

“Excuse me?” a timid, unfamiliar voice chirped from behind you.

You turned to see a young woman standing by the doorway of the back hall where the entrance to the choir balcony was. 

Typically, you sat around there when your dad was conducting because you weren’t very involved in the church enough to sit at the pews nor were you part of the choir. 

But from where you were sitting, you weren’t entirely uninvolved as you could still see and hear the services — it was the perfect spot. 

“You aren’t allowed to sit here,” the young woman told you, running the pads of her two fingers along the edge of her sleeve. 

Her dark brown hair was neatly pulled back into a conservative bun and she was wearing a black plain dress with a modest plain scoop neckline to show the buttons and collar of the crisply-ironed long-sleeved white blouse underneath that all of the church’s nuns wore, but the simplicity of her outfit and the uncovering of her hair meant to you that she was presently studying at the church to become a nun. 

“I’m the choir dude’s daughter,” you said with a polite smile and looked away, expecting for your response to be all the elaboration she needed. 

In a way that was subtle with the intention not to be offensive but in that very manner was offensive in itself because of how irritating her caution was, the woman cleared her throat. 

“I-I know,” she pressed, “but this area isn’t open for seating. For anyone.”

When you didn’t answer for a moment as you stared at her, she quickly said, “I’m sorry. They told me to tell you.”

“I’ll find a spot in the pews,” you answered and collected your things. 

From the corner of your eye, it seemed that she wanted to offer a seating alternative just to make up for what she was forced to tell you, but there wasn’t very much else she could offer. 

That Thursday, you were back at the church to pick up an ironed uniform for your dad; it was for a special event set for the upcoming Sunday, and the church pressed it for him and everything. 

It was a nice gesture.

They were nice people.

On Thursdays, there were only morning services and events for children in another spacious room where they could colour and play with the church’s team leaders and nuns. 

But in the afternoon — which it now was — there wasn’t anything going on. 

When you arrived, the church was still and warm with gentle sunlight shining through the stained glass windows and casting a myriad of colours against the pews. 

You looked over your dad’s text again and walked through the directions he told you to take to get to the back halls of the church, just a few turns from the stairway that led up to the choir balcony. 

The room where you were to pick up the uniform was as pretty as the rest of the church; it was a small prayer room with a pedestal and stained windows and red carpeting, but it was much cozier and probably hadn’t been used for prayer for the group size it was designed for in a little while.

You could see through the glass door the folded uniform for your dad on the windowsill behind the pedestal with a name tag placed on top of it ready for pick-up along with a few other clothes for some other church volunteers. 

Upon entry, you closed the door quietly behind you and stepped into the room where you could now see a small table by the window and a familiar young woman sitting with a notebook, jotting a few things down from what looked like a leather-bound book. 

“Can I just get my dad’s uniform from there, or do I need to sign it off or something?” you asked, announcing your presence. 

She looked up from the notebook and at you then to the uniforms on the windowsill. 

“Oh, you’re…” She paused and thought for a moment. “The choir conductor’s daughter?”

“Yeah.”

“I can sign it off for you,” she replied and smiled. 

She stood from the table and walked around it to the uniforms, where a piece of paper was set beside the line of neatly-folded clothes.

You watched as she jotted down a few things onto the paper with a pen before carefully picking up the packaged uniform and turning to hand it to you.

“Thank you,” you answered. 

“Of course. Have a good day,” she replied and bid you a goodbye before heading back to the table by the window. 

You were on the way to leave the room, but you couldn’t, for some odd reason, take your eyes away from the way she lowered herself into her seat and resumed her notetaking. 

She didn’t notice when you changed your direction and walked towards the table she was sitting at until you were perhaps just a metre away from her, when she then looked up from her notes and up at you. 

“Did I give you the wrong uniform?” she asked, worried and now standing up from her chair. 

“No,” you answered quickly and waved your hand.

She stayed standing, curious as to why you walked back. 

“Hard at work?” you asked, pointing at her notebook. 

Confused for a moment, perhaps by your curiosity in speaking with her, she looked over to her notebook and then back at you with a friendly smile, “Yes, a little. They gave me something to study from. I’m just taking notes.”

Carefully, you reached forward and spun her notebook around so you could read it. 

Her curiosity seemed to spike when you leaned forward to read her notes, and she looked at you with a small smile. 

“Um,” she started awkwardly. “I want to apologise for earlier this week. For making you move seats.”

“Oh, it’s fine,” you replied and looked up from her notes to smile at her reassuringly. “I know they just made you tell me because you’re new.”

The young woman seemed reassured, her shoulders even relaxing a bit when you said it. 

“You’re still… What do you call it? Like, you’re studying to be a nun here? Not fully one yet?”

She shook her head. 

“Yes, I’m in the study period before becoming a novitiate,” she answered. 

Your fingers ran over her delicate handwriting, feeling the indentations of her pen against the paper.

“To worship and submit,” you read aloud from the notebook. “Fascinating.”

She caught onto your twinge of sarcasm but approached it with humour, laughing a little and conceding, “It is a bit medieval, but an important quality, I’d presume.”

Reflecting suddenly on how young the woman seemed much younger than the other nuns, you asked her, “How old are you?”

“Twenty-four.”

She was a bit older than you, but still quite young.

Her hair was down now, though still neatly brushed and free of frizz and tucked behind her ears. She was wearing a white long-sleeved shirt and an ankle-length black skirt patterned lightly with gardenias. 

“How did you get into wanting to be a nun, anyhow?” you asked and moved your attention away from the notebook and towards her. “You don’t seem like the type.”

“I-I don’t?” she inquired, almost sounding nervous at the implication that she wasn’t training herself properly. 

“I mean, pious and submissive — sure,” you said, referring to her notes, which made her seem a bit flustered, “but not like a nun.”

She questioned curiously, “More like…?”

After humming aloud in thought, you turned to her with your hip laying against the edge of the table and suggested, “Elementary school teacher. Vet. I don’t know, something like that.”

She was pretty — truly. 

Cute, even. 

“When I was younger, I wanted to be a vet,” she told you, smiling sweetly. 

“Changed your mind?”

“Younger as in quite young, perhaps around ten,” she recalled. “My parents are both rather religious and ever since I turned fourteen it’s always been their intention to have me join a congregation.”

Interest piqued, you asked, “And your intention for yourself was…?”

“For myself?” she repeated as if taken by surprise. 

You nodded once. 

She paused for a moment to hum thoughtfully before saying, “I was happy to follow whichever path my parents intended for me.”

“You find passion in nunnery?” you asked. “Genuine question — not judging.”

“Of course,” she answered. 

Your phone buzzed in your pocket and you quickly checked it to see that your dad had messaged asking if you were able to pick up his uniform.

“I’m sorry. I’ve been holding you back from something,” the woman apologised and stepped to the side to allow you to leave.

Sliding your phone back into your pocket and adjusting your dad’s uniform in your hand, you replied, “No, not at all. My dad’s just impatient. I should get going now though, since here’s a few errands I have to run before noon.”

She nodded in understanding. 

“It was nice being able to talk with you,” she then said. “I haven’t been able to talk with very many people since I came here. It’s all just been about studying and the church.”

Before you left, you made sure to ask for her name, to which she replied telling you it was ‘Wanda.’

Cute name.

It’d been quite a while since you ever attended the services two weeks in a row. The last you did was during the last half of August the first year your dad started conducting the church choir, during which you had nothing else to do but wait for classes to start — so you went to the services.

This time, because the church was celebrating something special, your dad asked both you and your mother to attend the service because he’d been working on preparing a set of songs for the occasion.

Under the guise of being a supportive daughter, your parents didn’t second guess why you were so willing to attend the service this week, nor did they ask if there was a certain individual you were perhaps a bit excited to see again.

Truthfully, you couldn’t stop thinking of Wanda since you last saw her a few days ago. There was much to her you felt laid dormant and sleeping, awakened only just in the slightest during the conversation you had with her. She was kind and curious, but also painfully naive. 

She was a few years older than you but knew far less about the truth of her own ambitions and strayed perhaps not even a foot’s distance away from behind her parents’ shadows.

Wanda was interesting, but intrigued you for far too long for her to be only that. Though you couldn’t very well figure out what it was about her that made her bounce around in your head like a pinball until an unassuming evening.

It was sincerely an unrelated act when you first started, travelling your hand down between your legs in the silence of the evening to relieve yourself of the pent-up stress from classes that’d come over you during the last few days.

Truly, it was completely unrelated to Wanda and anything and everything about her when you started, and even during, until you reached your peak of release and found your imagination flashing with curiosities about what she looked like under her garments, how she’d squeal if you spanked her ass and if she’d like it, or how she’d cry out in sheer pleasure if you forced her down and made her take her spankings regardless.

For a moment afterwards there was guilt, but every day onwards there was curiosity, wondering for hours about what you’d seen when you reached that point of pleasure during which Wanda was your only muse.

You’d like to tell yourself it was only that curiosity that guided your willingness to attend the service with your parents, but it was something else entirely too — something completely carnal.

For the first hour of the service, Wanda was still nowhere to be seen. Because of the church’s connections with its convent, the nuns had a large role in some of the day-to-day happenings, but mostly during important church events like what you were presently attending.

Wanda wasn’t a nun yet; she was yet to be even a novitiate as she had mentioned, and so perhaps she just didn’t get to attend events like these. 

Though you personally found that counter-productive, you weren't one to complain about the convent’s decisions, but you did wish you got to see Wanda.

If she wasn’t one to be able to attend such events, when would you see her next?

After coming to the realisation that you probably just weren’t going to see her today or perhaps even for a little while, you excused yourself after having been present for nearly all of your dad’s song arrangements and with enough time to be able to be back from the washroom with well-enough time to catch the rest of his songs.

To your surprise, you saw the very woman who’d been on your mind for the last hour was sitting in the hall by the stairway that led up to the choir balcony. She was wearing the same outfit as she had been the first time you met her, with her hair done up in the same way too.

“Excuse me, but you aren’t allowed to sit here,” you teased, approaching from the right and walking into the hallway.

She quickly swiped at her eyes and began to apologise before she raised her head and saw it was you who had spoken to her, and you who now stood beside the bench she was sitting on.

Though she smiled and seemed relieved and happy to see you, you could tell that she’d just been crying — alone in this hallway away from the service and the nuns and sitting at the far end of the bench so as not to be seen by the people attending the mass.

Wanda stood, running her palms down the sides of her dress with a friendly smile while saying, “You’re here.”

“Yeah,” you answered distractedly as you focused on the slight redness of her eyes and the tip of her nose. 

You then asked once you were sure she’d been crying, “Are you okay?”

Suddenly feeling self-conscious after realising it must've been obvious that she’d been crying, Wanda carefully wiped under her eyes again and even tried making herself seem less dishevelled by tucking her hair behind her ears before you took her hands away from her face and made her stop fidgeting with her appearance.

“Seriously, what’s wrong?” you pressed.

Dismissively as to not bring any more attention to herself, she told you, “It’s really nothing. It’s nothing to bother you with.”

“I wanna be bothered,” you answered lightheartedly. “Come on.”

Wanda smiled at your gaiety and you urged her to tell you what was wrong once more before she finally exhaled in surrender though she didn’t sit down before speaking, implying that in spite of the fact of giving in to you, she wasn’t very well planning on delving too deep into what had been bothering her.

“Earlier today, I had accidentally misplaced the leather book I’d been studying from — the one you saw me with a few days prior, if you can remember,” she said. “And I was scolded terribly for it. It was quite deserving as it was an important collection of notes and such, so I do not question from where my scolding had come, but it seems to me that all I’ve done since I started here is get myself in trouble with the other nuns.”

Here, you tried taking her hand and urging her to sit down, but she wouldn’t, and slipped her fingers out of your hold.

“They found the book in one of the small prayer rooms I’d been studying in, so at the very least it was not a mistake of ruining the integrity of the book by losing it completely, but rather the very principle of having been given something so important and misplacing it,” she continued.

Wanda swallowed and seemed to be contemplating whether to go into more detail, and you could tell that there was something else that had been bothering her that didn’t exactly have to do with misplacing the book.

Before she had the chance to make a decision, there was a passerby who came from the service in search of the restrooms, which interrupted Wanda’s train of thought as she and the man exchanged a brief hello.

“We can go somewhere else,” you offered, taking her hand and heading down the hallway with her. She didn’t take her hand away from you this time, but instead told you that she only needed time to be on her own and that she was fine now. 

The only other place you knew was the prayer room you picked your dad’s uniform up in, and fortunately it was unlocked.

You ushered Wanda into the room and she smiled at you from behind and you led her forward to one of the front seats in front of the altar, regarding you with admiration for the effort you put into wanting to express your concern for her and make sure she felt heard. 

The early morning beams of light shone through the stained glass like they had that afternoon you’d come here a few days prior, but the room was far less stuffy now, familiar and almost reminiscent of something nostalgic. 

The feeling could easily be because of the fact that you’d been envisioning what you could remember from it nearly every hour since that past Thursday, with the room in the background of your mental portrait of Wanda. 

She settled down in the seat beside you, feeling encouraged more so because she wanted now to be closer to you rather than solely to sit and talk about what had been bothering her. 

But she could partake in the latter if that was what you asked of her — and it was. 

“I know that I hardly know you, but I’ve been here for nearly a whole month and you are the person I feel closest to,” she confessed.

You felt flattered, though you knew telling you that she felt close to you wasn’t exactly the point of why she said that. 

Wanda further reflected aloud, “I’m getting nowhere I’m supposed to, not finding the call to God like both my parents and the nuns told me about though I have even given it plenty of time. I studied English in college and yet can find not even a little interest in my religious readings.”

While she thought in silence for a moment, you didn’t interrupt her. 

When she found the words to verbalise what she’d been meaning to say, she began with a question: “Do you remember when you asked what my own intentions were for myself? On Thursday?”

You nodded. 

“It’s ridiculous, but I can’t even recall the last time I sincerely asked that to myself, but perhaps in shallower terms, such as wondering where I might be in a few years or what I might do with my time in the convent.

“But never what I wanted — never who I wanted to be.”

After a moment, when you were sure she wasn’t trying to find words to express herself nor contemplating whether to say something, you asked, “And do you know who you want to be?”

For a brief moment — half of one, really — Wanda looked thoughtful, and then she said and gestured to her clothing and the prayer room, “Not this.”

“So then, what?” you inquired further. 

You teased, “A vet?”

Wanda giggled and sat back a bit in her seat. “Perhaps if I were ten,” she said. 

Then more seriously, she added, “But now, I’m not very sure.”

“How did you come to realise what you were interested in?” Wanda asked. “For example, your studies. What are you studying?”

She was talking fast, obviously very invested in your conversation together and also rather curious about you. 

You thought that was cute; you liked Wanda. 

“I’m studying philosophy,” you told her to which she straightened and was eager to hear more about. “But with studies, it’s different, because you’re talking about more personal matters. Academics are far different from personal paths.”

Wanda seemed a bit disappointed because she was looking for a definite answer, but what you explained certainly made sense to her. 

She pondered about something then instead asked, “So about personal matters, then. What about those?”

“What about them?”

“Give me a principle to follow,” she sought. “Something I might be able to apply here. Something as general as you’d like it to be, but applicable.”

Her steadily growing smile made it clear that though she was certainly looking for advice, she also thoroughly enjoyed exchanging quips with you and exploring more about you. 

In a way, she was as eager to learn about you than how to help herself, if not more so. 

You hummed thoughtfully and Wanda watched as you were deep in thought. 

“A principle for you,” you said, “could easily be that it’s okay to be selfish, to think only of yourself when you’ve spent so long doing anything else.”

Wanda asked, slightly amused but far more curious, “You recommend hedonism?” 

“To you?”

She nodded. 

You replied, “Indubitably.”

If you hadn’t already been thinking of Wanda in painfully great amounts before that morning, then you certainly were afterwards. 

The third week came around and by then Wanda was banging against every square inch of your skull like an intruder, necessitating the need to be seen and thought of every other minute in any way you could.

Perhaps the relationship you developed with her thus far was one of friendship and nothing more, yet her persistence that never strayed too far from your mind seemed to you that she had become reminiscent of something greater than a platonic figure. 

In any case, you had to muster the ability to ask your dad in the most nonchalant manner you could if it were possible for you attend Sunday’s service. 

You did it in a way that did not make it seem to him that you were about to become a familiar face in the church, but rather that someone had simply happened to ask you for help during the last service and wondered if you might be able to attend the next — which is quite literally what you told him. 

It wasn’t a lie. 

Not even when you said that it was a young woman who was studying to become a novitiate at the convent that was curious about the choir and the other volunteers and had asked you about it last week, because Wanda did truly ask about the choir and the other people who volunteered at the church once. 

But that wasn’t at all the reason why you wanted to attend the service that Sunday. 

“Y/N,” a voice called in a hushed tone when you passed the hallway leading up to the choir stairway where your dad had already walked up towards. 

You slipped away from the people filing into the pews and quickly came to Wanda’s side. 

“Don’t you have places to be aside from fraternising with the guests?” you teased as she took your wrist and led you towards the room you both seemed to like talking in the most. 

“After last week’s ordeal with the book, I’ve been put on some kind of probation from participating in the services so I have more time to study independently,” she told you, not seeming particularly worried.

She added, “On Sundays, the convent is rather empty, so they wouldn’t notice that I’m off not studying. Though I could very well say I chose to study in one of the extra prayer rooms here.”

“And I’m sure they remember how much you love the prayer rooms here,” you said, wiggling your eyebrows at your reference to her having lost the book in one of them. 

Wanda faked a laugh in the driest manner you’d ever heard and you nudged her arm to which she told you to stop joking around with her so she could tell you something important. 

She closed the prayer room door and sat you down beside her. 

From a small bag on the chair to her left, she pulled out a small dictionary. 

Here, you were tempted to make fun of her and ask why she was carrying around a dictionary so tiny, but you recalled that she had wanted to ask you about something serious. 

She flipped open to a page she had bookmarked. 

“Hedonism,” she read aloud. “In philosophy, the belief that pleasure and the absence of pain is the most important principle in determining the morality of an action.”

Wanda looked up at you from the dictionary. “This is what you meant?” she asked. 

You nodded. 

Curiously, you inquired, “Do you agree with it?”

She looked back down to the page in which had written three definitions of hedonism, the third being the one defined by philosophy. 

The first two you could not quite read upside down. 

“I have never heard of it in such detail before the time you mentioned it last week,” she said, running her eyes over the words in contemplation, “but it’s interesting.”

“What would be your first endeavour to pleasure, if you had to make a guess?” you asked her.

Wanda ran over the words of the definition again with her eyes, perhaps still deep in thought about it or absently doing so while she contemplated an answer to your question. 

“My first?” she repeated. 

You looked down at the dictionary page now that she was holding it at a slightly different angle that oriented the letters better for you. 

The first definition read, ‘Pursuit of pleasure.’

And the second — you had to tip your head to the side a bit to decipher it — read, ‘Sensual self-indulgence.’

During your deep concentration, Wanda had come to an answer to your question, and it wasn’t until she leaned forward and kissed your unsuspecting lips that you realised she had even stopped looking at the page. 

It was the uttering of her muffled words against your lips that triggered something deep within you, perhaps equally as restrained as her own. 

An unfinished sentence, but one on its own nonetheless. 

‘I want…’ she had uttered, breathless and with one hand cupping your cheek and feeling with the pads of her fingers the softness of your skin. 

With that, you hastily reached forward and grasped at her ass, lifting her from her seat and stripping her down so she was in nothing but her undergarments. 

The paths of your nails streaked red against her pale skin while you devoured her every step of the way, your lips following every inch of skin that became exposed to you while your hands made quick work of unzipping her dress and unbuttoning her blouse. 

She sighed when you kissed her breasts and squeezed your hands around her waist and hips, taking her selfishly and finally spreading her legs and sitting her down in your lap. 

“Are you…” you began between breaths, pausing to figure out your wording and sitting back in your seat to look at her. “Have you had sex?”

Wanda giggled, finding your question amusing. “Of course I have,” she replied and took your hands and placed them on her hips again. 

“Cocky,” you jested, hooking your thumb under the clasp of her bra and releasing it so it snapped against her back, causing her to arch her body into you with a soft gasp. “Thought you might’ve been abstinent or something.”

“I don’t mean to be cocky,” she said in a low voice. “But I am certainly not abstinent.”

“Should I be jealous?”

“Only if you choose to be.”

“I choose to be,” you said with conviction. “So for whom should I be jealous, then?”

“College students.”

You gasped superficially.

“You fuck college students? Exclusively?”

“No!” she laughed. “I mean I haven’t been very active since my time in college.”

“Haven’t had sex since college?”

She corrected, “I didn’t mean that either.”

“So what did you mean?”

“This conversation is like pulling teeth.”

“Why? You want me to fuck you hard against this floor right now, baby?” you asked. The very crudeness of your words, albeit teasing, made Wanda’s breath hitch, and so within that reaction you found her first tell. “No foreplay or anything?”

“This isn’t foreplay?”

“Hardly.”

“Then what is?” she asked though sounding slightly pouty about it. 

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re all turned on and impatient from just that. Teasing gets you off?” you pressed. “Didn’t even have to be told how I wanna see your gorgeous ass bruise when I fuck your cunt from behind like you’re my sick little fucktoy whore?”

Her hips twitched. 

“Y/N…” she muttered, perhaps out of impatience or forewarning for how you were teasing her, either way you could not tell and weren’t very rushed in trying to figure it out. 

You pulled her bra down and released one of her breasts, slapping it lightly with your fingers and causing her to gasp before pinching one of her sensitive pink buds. 

There would be no indulging her past what you were willing to indulge; you were careful not to touch her more than what was intentional. 

You bucked your hips up under the guise of adjusting your seating, grinding your stiff cock against the soaking panties which were now beginning to soak your pants. 

Her cunt was sensitive beyond the thin fabric, causing the strap to rub her perfectly through her soft, swollen folds; you could practically hear how sticky she was without even looking. 

“What is that?” she quickly asked, looking down between her thighs. She tried moving back to get a better look, but you quickly held onto her hip with your other hand and pulled her harshly back to her original position, making her throbbing clit rub directly onto your cock. 

A strangled yelp was breathed past her lips. 

“Don’t move unless I tell you to, you understand?” you told her. 

She nodded.

“Everywhere else in this building, there is only one God, but here in this room, I am yours. You will listen to what I tell you and take what I give you, even if it hurts. You’ll be grateful that I make you hurt as much as you will when I give you pleasure.”

In spite of everything, Wanda repressed a tiny smile and said, “You’re scary when you’re authoritative with me.”

You laughed through your nose and replied, “I can get scarier.”

Her smile widened into a grin and Wanda’s hand came to the back of your neck when you leaned forward and kissed her, one arm circling around her waist and carefully slipping her off your lap as you stood from your seat. 

“We’ll get caught,” she voiced concern against your lips.

“Then be the lookout.” 

You made sure she didn’t trip on her way up to the podium, and soon you had her chest laid flat against the lectern and facing the front doors, the shadow of the large crucifix behind the both of you casted against the red carpet from the morning sun shining from behind the stained glass. 

Wanda listened as you unzipped your pants and when she made an attempt to turn her head and look at what you were doing, you put your other hand against her upper back and pressed her back down, reducing her line of sight to your face and shoulder and nothing else. 

Her clothed cunt was prodded at, the stiff tip of your strap finding her hole through her panties and nudging at it teasingly. She groaned impatiently and reached back to take hold of your hand, to grab onto anything and urge you forward.

In response, you spanked her harshly and made Wanda yelp out in surprise and wince.

“You dirty, impatient slut,” you spat.

She immediately whimpered, “I’m sorry, daddy.”

That satisfied something in you that you hadn’t even known you wanted, and you were more than happy to share in that satisfaction.

You hummed and tucked a finger under the waistband of Wanda’s panties, making her twitch impatiently while also doing her best to listen to her orders. Then you laid your hand flat against her lower back, rubbing her supportively and making a warm flush form across her face.

“You’re a good girl, aren’t you, Wanda?” you asked, looking up her bent-over half-naked body to the back of her head.

She nodded.

“Good girl,” she confirmed with a nod.

Gently, you squeezed her ass and danced your fingers up to the waistband of her panties that you finally pulled down, exposing her gorgeous, glistening cunt.

It took just as much resistance from you not to shove your cock right into her as much as it took Wanda to not thrust her hips back and grind her clit against your strap.

“Why don’t you tell me all you’ve been studying about the last little while?” you said, running a hand down her ass and sliding a thumb into her pussy, feeling heaps of pride with the way you slipped inside with no resistance. 

She was incredibly wet and so, so warm.

Distracted by the way your thumb probed shallowly at her hole, giving her just enough pleasure to make her throb but just short of enough to satisfy her entirely, it took Wanda a few moments to regain her focus before she finally asked, “S-Studying? About what?”

“You’re a smart girl, Wanda,” you encouraged, slowly sliding your thumb out and grazing the pad of it lightly over her swollen slit and across the hood of her clit. “Methods on how to be a proper nun. For example, swear yourself to the Lord, abstain from sex, so on and so forth.”

Wanda swallowed and tried her best to focus with the way your thumb began spreading her cunt out, revealing to you the glistening folds of her pussy. She began stuttering and finally squeezed her eyes shut hard enough to be able to recall some of her studies.

“Um, there was…” she uttered and ran her fingers along the edge of the wooden lectern, “living in modesty; not showing off one’s body in any crude manner, not partaking in pleasures of the flesh.”

Three of your fingers began rubbing slow circles against Wanda’s hole, squelching against her dripping cunt and making her tremble and moan shakily.

“And what next?” you asked.

“I-I can’t… Can’t focus…” she told you helplessly.

Your thumb flicked at her clit and Wanda’s body jerked forward. 

“One more,” you urged. “Come on. Give me one more good one and I’ll fuck you with my cock. You want that, don’t you?”

Intentionally, you began to focus on her clit now, having your index finger graze it as your middle and ring finger slowly began delving in and out of her sticky hole, purposefully making it even more difficult for Wanda to find the words for herself.

“I want… I want that,” she shuddered, hanging her head and squeezed her eyes shut again.

“So, then, give me one more.”

Wanda’s breathing deepened as she tried her hardest to focus. 

With every intention to make it more difficult for her, you reached up with your other hand and pulled her bra down, allowing you access to knead her breast and feel her nipple harden against the palm of your hand.

She whimpered into her arm and bit down on her bottom lip.

You stepped forward and removed your fingers from her cunt to rub the length of your strap through her pussy, wet fingers taking hold of its base and running it through her swollen folds.

“A-Ah, Y/N, please…” she mewled, though neither of you were quite sure whether she was begging for you to stop and allow her to think thoroughly or for you to have mercy on her completely and just fuck her.

“One more,” you reiterated and aligned the tip of your cock with her entrance. 

You placed both hands on her hips and began pulling her backwards, fucking her shallowly and watching her pussy take your cock with just as much anticipation as Wanda was struggling to withhold.

She hugged around you beautifully and it was truly only the tip; you couldn’t wait another moment to fuck her until she was begging for you to fuck her until it hurt.

“A-Another,” she finally trembled out, “is to be, by nature, a woman of submission, to worship your God and seek no amount of personal domination over–”

Fully satisfied with her answer and terribly impatient yourself, your fingernails dug into Wanda’s hips and you jerked her ass back against you, forcing her to take your entire cock in one swift movement.

She cried out and you wrapped a hand around her waist, running your nails down her side and feeling an inexplicable need to mark her, to cause her pain, to reduce her to a whimpering trembling, bruised mess so cock-drunk that all she’d feel for the next three days is the aftermath of being rough-fucked like a slut.

“Hit me, please, daddy,” she begged, wrapping her fingers around the edge of the lectern and arching her back.

So you did — repeatedly. 

You spanked Wanda over and over, having the sound of your palm meeting her ass echo through the room and only reiterating to the both of you how she was much less of a nun or a student or any reflection of purity, but a braindead nympho whore good for nothing but getting her pussy fucked raw.

She was a loud fuck, crying out in whimpers and moans and other strings of partially-comprehensible words telling you how good your cock felt and how much she loved getting fucked by you.

The playing organs and belting choir playing during the service muffled Wanda out, but Jesus Christ, if any of them out there had been able to hear her getting fucked down the hallway, they might just think for a moment that it was the calling of an angel or at least something in some way divine.

But none of them would ever know what it looked like to fuck Wanda from behind, pulling her up with their hand around her neck so you had access to slap her face and spit into her mouth like you could, pinching her clit and fucking her through to her third orgasm.

How beautiful she looked, sweaty and a mess with her long brown hair fanned out and stuck in strands against her back, crying out in equal parts pain and pleasure and finding herself incredibly pleased by being used like a filthy object.

And you’d make sure no one else could get the chance to see the sight but you.

“I’m gonna come again, Y/N,” she cried, breasts pressed against the cold wood of the lectern and arms pressed against her back. “This is my last, please, I can’t take anymore.”

You let go of her wrists and wrapped an arm around her waist, lifting her from the lectern. She was arched at a slight angle so your arm could assist in continuing to fuck her, but she was now much closer, and she was now able to loll her head back against your shoulder.

“This is the closest thing a slut like you will ever get to heaven, angel,” you told her, kissing her temple. “Make your God proud and come on my cock, filthy whore.”

Wanda reached back and held onto you for support while her eyes squeezed shut, her lips parting as a silent cry escaped her, her third and final orgasm coming over her without mercy.

You squeezed at her breast and leaned your head down and bit at her shoulder and up the back of her neck, getting in as many markings of your ownership as you could.

She sighed out and uttered your name, to which you ran your hands up her stomach, one hand moving up to her face and gently tilting her head over so you could kiss her lips.

Her knees buckled out and you carefully set her down on the floor before sitting down beside her. Wanda panted heavily into your chest, one hand on your knee and the other arm wrapped around your shoulder. 

You had your arms around her waist, rubbing her back supportively and whispering in her ear words upon words of how beautiful she looked, how good she’d been for you, then soon confessing how much you’d been thinking of her over the last few weeks, how much of your mind she occupied and how much of your time you spent thinking of her.

Wanda liked hearing that last part most, but she particularly enjoyed when you told her how it felt to masturbate to her, to imagine her looking up at you and choking on your cock at your final point of release, and how really being with her was plenty more enjoyable and, quite frankly, more beautiful than you ever could’ve fantasised about on your own. 

The both of you were on your knees, sweaty with the labour of sex and kneeling in each other’s arms at the foot of the towering crucifix, whispering and giggling to each other all the equally sweet and dirty confessions you could exchange before the service was over.

[i-yap]

Wait I live Professor Jason. What about prof. Jason that is dating a reader who is a pre-school teacher? Kinda like Ms.Honey from Matilda

i will die before giving up on prof jason. Also Ms honey is like perfect for jason?? Why am I just realizing this

Prof!Jason x preschool teacher!y/n

His dream girl?? hello? I am lirerally crying from how perfect you guys would be together .

I love the idea of you guys meeting when he was still a vigilante and you being patient and kind with him, giving him a warm safe environment to heal. Show him how the "other half" lives.

Plus as a pre school teacher you have plenty experience dealing with difficult people who don't really understand the world and have a warped sense of what is happening around them but what they truly need is unconditional positive regard, warmth, empathy and attention with a little bit of strong tough loving guidance .

Too sweet by hozier? that's like your theme song ngl. You're so kind and beautiful and you are one of the few good people out there who understand how important it is to be nice to kids and treat them with respect too. You are dedicated to your students wellbeing and all your students just love you so much. Its adorable and he is just like..."I wanna have 12 kids with you"

You are the reason he retires, becomes a professor at a nearby university and pursues his true passion- literature

He is so much happier now, less bruises less scars less guns and less burden on his already broken morality.

Also hanging out with you students , the kids love him. Like out of all batboys the kids love jason the most. He is raw and honest and a bit of a kid on the inside himself. He isn't holding back, he isn't babytalking, he isn't treating kids like they're dumb

I can also see you adopting a kid..matilda like? Like the students come to you when they have an abusive household or are being bullied. Or if they are special cases. And if there is nothing you can do legally , jason just goes up to the parents to have a good talking to. If a kid is put in the foster home situation ...you guys just sort of take the kid in. Jason knows what its like to be in the foster system and then out on the streets. He knows what it feels like and has a soft spot so yea. also like adopting abused animals

Sitting together to just grade papers together, exchanging student stories, going out finding books to put on jason's reading list , giving generous donations to public schools and making sure the money goes for the right things. Just a really nice domestic life filled with love warmth and joy. This is exactly what I want for jason. Like I desperately want this for him, he deserves joy and healing and this is like the dream life for him. He wouldn't change anything and thanks everything that lead to this moment because he cant believe all this is even real.

[thatfandomslut]

Puppy Love

Regina George x Reader

Word Count: 1k

Trigger Warnings: there is so much fluff in here that it's crazy, also a puppy is in here so prepare your hearts for a lot of love

Request:

Can I request a Regina George x Fem!reader for Renee rapp? Please anything I'm like in a dry desert with no water, please feed the homosexuals. Thanks so much!

Mean Girls requests are open.

Regina narrowed her eyes at the puppy that was taking (Y/n)'s attention. It was a golden retriever puppy that (Y/n) named Apollo. He was cute, and Regina could admit that. However, it sucked (Y/n)'s attention away entirely from her and to this dog. Regina knew this jealousy was petty and dumb, but Apollo was becoming a problem for Regina. For example, just moments before now, she and (Y/n) had been making out, but when Apollo came crying to the door, scratching on it, (Y/n) was up in seconds. Now, instead of (Y/n) holding her close, she was cradling a puppy who would never truly appreciate her.

"Wait," Cady said, formulating everything Regina was telling the group. (Y/n) hadn't joined them yet because she was too busy showing one of their classmates pictures she had taken of Apollo. "So, let me get this straight. You are jealous of Apollo? Her incredibly adorable golden retriever puppy? I'm not sure I understand why."

Regina's eyes narrowed at Cady when she said this, causing Cady's eyes to look anywhere but towards Regina. Even if the clique system had officially been brought down by the exposure of the Burn Book, Regina was scary. "You don't understand, Cady. I have lost a lot of make-out time because he will come pawing at the door. When we study at her place, it turns into a session where I study and she plays with Apollo. He's not even that cute." Regina stuck up her nose, knowing what she was saying was out of anger. She knew that Apollo was incredibly cute, and at first, so were all of (Y/n)'s interactions with him.

(Y/n) approached the group with a wide smile on her face, kissing Regina's cheek as she sat down. "Hey, everyone," she greeted, not catching on to how everyone but Regina avoided her eye. A tell-tell sign that they were talking about her, but (Y/n) was absolutely oblivious. "Does anyone want to see this video I got of Apollo at his puppy training class yesterday? The teacher said he was her best student. She said he was 'paw-some.'" (Y/n) said with a bright smile, not noticing Regina roll her eyes. Cady was the first to look over, excited to see Apollo, Karen followed, and then the rest of the group was awe-ing over how cute Apollo was. Regina was seething.

"Are you still coming over, princess?" (Y/n) looked over at Regina with a smile, but it quickly dropped when she saw Regina's expression. She looked sour as she stared at her now cold cheese fries in front of her. (Y/n) was trying to figure out if she had that same expression when she sat down earlier, or if she had just missed it. She was hoping that whatever it was, Regina wasn't mad at her. "Hey, Regina, what's wrong, babe? You look upset about something. Is there anything I can help with?"

Regina resisted the urge to say anything that she might regret late. Instead, she kissed (Y/n) with a soft smile. "No, love, just thinking. I'll definitely get over it though. Yes, I will see you later today." Regina promised, and the group looked around at each other quietly. The bell rang, and the group split up. Regina had dropped (Y/n) off at her class, and then she went with Gretchen to their shared math class. "I should've said, the problem is she loves her dog more than me," Regina grumbled to Gretchen, who decided it was best to say nothing. She didn't want to contribute to Regina's anger.

After school, (Y/n) was playing with Regina's hair when she heard the familiar pawing at her door. "There's Apollo, I'm going to let him in." (Y/n) kissed her girlfriend before letting the puppy in. "I'm going to use the bathroom fast, too. Do you think you can watch him?" (Y/n) questioned as she brought the dog over to Regina. The puppy squirmed excitedly as he was placed in front of Regina, running up to her and licking her on the face. (Y/n) patted his head before taking her momentary leave.

"Stop it, stop it," Regina held Apollo away from her as she examined him with a sneer. Letting out a little bark, he attempted to lick Regina again, even if he was at a far distance. Regina didn't realize at first that she smiled at that, but when she did; she looked around quickly to make sure nobody witnessed it. She let go of Apollo and the puppy came bounding over to her, curling up to her side as he allowed her to scratch behind his ear. "Okay, I think I'm starting to get it now… You are kind of cute, I guess."

(Y/n) grinned when she came back to the room, happy to see Regina finally warming up to her puppy. She knew she was struggling to share the attention when she came over, but puppies need a lot of attention, too. "Look at these two cuties," she took a picture before lying beside Regina, Apollo resting in the middle. "I'm glad you seem to like him. I thought you couldn't stand him. I was beginning to get worried you might be jealous of him or something." (Y/n) said, addressing how she would never want to make Regina feel that way,

Regina shook her head, hiding the lie between her teeth. "What, no? I was never jealous of Apollo, He's a cute puppy." Regina said simply, hoping she didn't give herself away too easily.

Her comment made (Y/n)'s brow raise, but she said nothing, not wanting to accuse Regina of not telling the truth. Instead, she planted a kiss on Regina's lips. "And you are my cute girlfriend. I love that you love Apollo." (Y/n) said happily, snuggling Regina and Apollo. She couldn't wait to make that picture of Regina snuggled up to Apollo her screensaver later.

[planetkiimchi]

send my love | l.jh

featuring: music producer!jihoon x musician!reader, secret relationship

word count: 936 words

summary — jihoon accidentally exposes your relationship with a slip of his tongue… in front of an entire school of students.

author’s note: had sm fun writing this and doing the bonus part <3 inspired by the songwriter that came to my school today!

Jihoon stands backstage, listening to the first few seconds of your song, “breaking down walls”, play. When it stops playing, the chorus of voices doesn’t stop, and he’s shocked to hear the students singing the lyrics to the song the two of you co-wrote together, their voices loud and clear in the multi-purpose hall.

He’d thought it would stop, but he swears only the first 3 seconds of the song were played, yet they sing all the way to the chorus before stopping.

Still in a daze, he barely notices when he’s signalled to go onstage, but he pulls himself together and does exactly that. He’s prepared a presentation for the students, to let them know a little bit more about songwriting and how he came to write songs, and a few tips he has for anyone who might be looking to become a songwriter.

He was invited to speak because your song was a top hit, and the lyrics were about breaking down the barriers of mental illnesses with the help of medication, proper treatment, good relationships and healthy coping strategies.

Mental health is something that he’s struggled with for a while. Every time he feels low, and his mental health is waning, he writes a song about it.

He writes about other things, but his favourites are probably the songs that he writes coming out of a slump caused by executive dysfunction, when he manages to get his life back on track again.

The school he’s visiting is holding activities for mental health week, and this presentation he’s giving is among the last few before they wrap up the week.

Of course, Jihoon mentions you in his presentation, because you’re the singer of “breaking down walls”, a song that the two of you wrote over a series of months, rarely exiting the studio except occasionally to get food. He probably calls you stunning a couple of times—he can’t remember, but he’s always found you the better looking between both of you anyway. You’re also more popular, so he apologises that you can’t be there because you’re busy preparing for your concert the day after.

He was nervous getting onstage to speak to such a large audience, and he can’t say he’s ever been gifted at public speaking, but he thinks he does an okay job. The crowd is relatively quiet, and he hopes the soft buzz is just the students excitedly talking about the content of his presentation.

When he’s finished delivering his points, one of the music teachers that he briefly met backstage comes onstage. Two students bring out two chairs for the two of them to sit, and the Q&A segment starts.

Jihoon feels that this is the part he was most nervous for. Before getting onstage, he wondered what he would say when asked about this song. It’s very close to his heart, and while he’s co-written a different song before, with a different friend, about mental health too, it wasn’t really the same. It’s hard to explain, but the you and his other friend have different styles, and he thinks “breaking down walls” holds a special place in his heart. It’s truly an irreplaceable song.

Because of how important “breaking down walls” is to him, Jihoon finds it difficult to articulate his emotions without feeling extremely overwhelmed, and he’s afraid tears may start flowing if he thinks too much about it.

However, his fears are eased when the teacher begins speaking. The teacher asks Jihoon simple questions like what’s his favourite song he’s written, and one of your songs that he finds criminally underrated.

These are easy to answer; he barely hesitates before launching into a full-blown explanation for his two choices, and he’s bolstered by the cheers of agreement from the students.

Jihoon gets really into it when asked about “breaking down walls”, managing to word his feelings without getting too emotional. After all that worrying, he’s impressed with himself when he manages to phrase it as “writing lyrics from the bottom of his heart, with all of his soul”, expressing his gratitude for all the support the two of you have received for this song.

As the teacher brings the Q&A segment to a close, the students burst into a round of applause. Jihoon thinks you might want to see how much admiration they have for you, so, taking out his phone, he says, “I’ll send Y/n my love—I mean, your love.”

He doesn’t blush, but his palms grow sweaty. He subtly wipes them on his lap before hitting the “record” button on his phone.

”Hey, Y/n. I hope you’re having a good time preparing for the concert. There are some people who’d like to say hi to you.” He smiles, thinking about how you’ll look receiving his message in the middle of rehearsals, hoping he can give you a boost in energy.

He turns the camera around to show the students, who—to their credit—cheer so loudly his eardrums feel like they’re going to burst. When he turns it back to himself, Jihoon says, “That’s all I have to say. Enjoy the rehearsals!”

He stops recording, and turns to the students. “I’ll send it to them and let you know. Thank you so much for having me.”

He’s escorted away from the venue with a gift from the school, but all he can think of is the way he slipped up onstage. He still sends the video, but he receives a notification on X first.

Clicking it open, he finds something that makes his face turn pink. He’s glad he slipped up, after all.

—

Bonus (the tweet in question):

[lanadelnegan]

Hey, I love your writing it’s so good you truly are a phenomenal writer. Anyways, I was wondering if you could do a gym teacher negan x female reader. (She’s a senior about to graduate and she’s been flirting with her teacher and they both feel the same way for each other and one day he decides to break the tension and things just get steamy. Btw I literally adore that you use a daddy kink (you are so real for that). Thank you so much :)

omg thank you so so much!!! and god this sounds insanely hot. i'm such a whore for teacher negan.

Crush - Part 1

Gym Teacher Negan x Female Reader

read part two here

Warnings: 18+, nsfw, *reader is 18*, you catch Coach Negan masturbating, angst, teasing, flirting, sexual tension, teacher x student, part 2 will be 99% smut

Song inspo: Crush by Ethel Cain

"Ya gonna miss me when I graduate?" You ask, reaching for a piece of candy from the bowl on Negan's desk. Class started five minutes ago, but both of you have a tendency to be late.

Negan has been your gym teacher since junior year and the two of you have grown closer over the past two years than any teacher and student should. It's hard to fight the crush you've developed for him, considering his charming sense of humor, ridiculously good looks, and most importantly - how much attention he gives you.

His eyes trail away from his computer screen as he stands, coming around the desk beside you. "Is there a reason you're not in your gym clothes, miss y/l/n?"

"What? You don't like this?" You tease, looking down at your outfit. Your usual attire consists of some jeans and a t-shirt, but this is your last week of high school, so you decided to spice it up and wear a short blue sundress today.

Negan glances down at your body, letting his gaze linger on your breasts for a moment too long as he stands tall in front of you.

"It's a little inappropriate, wouldn't you say so? .... You tryna get some high school boy's attention?" His head tilts waiting for your answer.

"I wouldn't say boy." You take a bite of the unwrapped mini snickers bar in your hand before smirking at him.

"Oh?" His brows raise playfully. "A girl then?"

"No.. gym teacher." You say barely above a whisper as you smoothly lick some of the chocolate off your bottom lip. Your cheeks turn a light shade of pink at your own words.

You've become much bolder since you turned 18 last month, and you aren't missing the opportunity to spend every second flirting with Coach Negan before school is out.

The corner of his mouth raises into a knowing smirk as he stands closer to you, intoxicating you with the scent of his musky, sporty cologne.

"You want my attention, doll? Ya gotta try harder than that." He snatches the candy bar from your hand before popping it into his own mouth and leaving you standing alone in his office.

His loud voice from the gym echoes through the hallway as you make your way to the locker room, replaying his words in your head and changing into your tiniest pair of shorts.

You want my attention? Ya gotta try harder than that.

You tie your hair up in a high ponytail in the mirror, noting the way your oversized shirt and shorts barely cover your ass before giving yourself a pep talk.

"Y/l/n, nice of you to finally join us." He yells as you enter the gym.

You roll your eyes nonchalantly before finding your spot on the court and beginning your stretches.

Negan walks up and down the rows of students as you all stretch and music flows through the speakers of the gym. There's no denying he's the coolest P.E. teacher you've ever had. Not even counting his looks.

When he reaches your space, he makes a point to roam his eyes up and down your body as you stretch. You stare back at him, grinning at the effect you seem to have on him. You can't help but notice the way his dick bounces behind his gym shorts as he walks and you mentally thank the gods that he chose not to wear underwear today.

Your body bends side to side as you stretch, not taking your eyes off of him as he gets closer to you.

"You can do better than that." He whispers lowly.

You're not sure if he's referring to your stretching or his comment from earlier... Ya gotta try harder than that.

Either way, you take it as a challenge and bend over right as he's passing you, touching the tips of your fingers to your toes. Your head turns slightly behind you to see his reaction but he's not looking which only makes you groan with frustration.

"Lucky for you kids I happen to be in a fuckin' good mood today, so rest of class is free time. Just don't get too loud and make me regret it." Negan announces to the class and everyone spreads out, immediately finding their friend groups and beginning various activities.

Unfortunately for you, your only friends in that class are a small group of girls on the volleyball team, and they always play together during free time, leaving you to fend for yourself. You don't mind though because your favorite teacher always keeps you busy.

"Heads up." Negan tosses a basketball in your direction and you catch it easily. "Shoot with me?" He asks.

"Around the world or horse?" You ask, letting him choose which game to play.

"Horse, duh." He answers without hesitation.

"Okay, but let's make it interesting." You suggest and his head tilts curiously. "Every letter you get, I get to ask you a personal question. Like truth.. but with basketball." I explain and he nods his head in agreement.

"You mean.. I get to ask you the questions, since I'll be the one winning." He grins, taking the ball from your hand and shooting smoothly from the free throw line. The ball swishes the net with ease and you roll your eyes at his cocky smile.

"Anyone can make a free throw." You shoot the ball, hitting the rim as it bounces off.

"Apparently not anyone." He laughs and you give him the evil eye. "Oh, right! Question. Let's see, I'll start easy. Got any crushes at school?" He teases.

You giggle, watching him shoot from the next spot and miss.

"Yes." You answer simply.

He catches his rebound, passing you the ball. "Well, who is it?"

"Nope. That's two questions." You dismiss him, shooting and making it in the basket.

He nods his head sarcastically at your response. "That's how it's gonna be, huh?"

He lobs the ball in the air towards the basket, missing clearly on purpose and you look at him confused. "What the hell was that?"

He shrugs, widening his eyes playfully. "I missed. Ready for my question."

You giggle as you think of a question. "Do you have any crushes at school?"

"That would be highly inappropriate miss y/l/n."

"That's not an answer."

He chuckles before shooting and making it again. "...Yeah, I do."

Your cheeks burn at his answer, but you don't get your hopes up too much knowing it could be anyone, even another teacher.

The game continues back and forth as you and Negan ask each other questions. He shoots the final shot, missing and purposely letting you win.

"So, what's my final question, kid? Make it a good one."

"Do you ever.. think of me.. in that way?" You ask bravely, knowing you might not get another chance like this one.

"In what way?" He asks innocently, resting his hands on his hips.

You blush, not wanting to say it, so you don't. "Nothing, forget it."

He looks down at you with a more serious than playful expression now and you wish you could read his mind.

"Okay. If you say so." He shrugs, throwing the ball down and walking away towards the hall to his office. "I let you win by the way." He calls out before disappearing.

You mentally curse yourself for not asking him but it's too late, so you make your way back to the locker room, wanting to get dressed before everyone comes back in.

You change out of your sweaty clothes before slipping your dress on with nothing underneath since your sweat soaked through your panties and bra. You feel even more exposed than earlier considering your dress barely reaches three inches below your ass cheeks.

You study yourself in the mirror as his words echo in your mind again like a broken record.

You want my attention? Ya gotta try harder than that.

You don't want to miss out on another opportunity with him, knowing your time with him is running out, so you grab your things and saunter down the hall to his open office, stopping at the doorway before entering.

Negan's attention is focused on his computer screen as he speaks. "Can I help you, doll?"

You ignore his question, bravely walking over to him before shutting the door behind you and leaning your backpack against the wall. You join him on the other side of the room, standing before him as he sits in his chair looking up at you. Chills cover your body when your bare ass touches the surface of his cold wooden desk.

His brows scrunch at your sudden boldness as he moves his chair back slightly, allowing space between the two of you. "What are you doing, y/n?" He asks but it comes out as more of a warning.

"Getting your attention" You place your bare feet on each side of his thighs in the chair, spreading your legs in front of him and shuttering as the cool breeze brushes your exposed pussy. "Do you ever think about me... like this?" You ask, finishing your question from earlier.

The look on his face is unreadable as his eyes drop to your center.

"You wanna know what I think about, y/n?" His voice turns to a raspy whisper. "I think about how tight that little pussy must be...how those pretty lips would look wrapped around my cock." His dark, heavy eyes lift to meet yours and you've never seen them so blown with lust before. "What you'd sound like begging for me to fuck you. How sweet you probably taste.." His eyes drop to your pussy again as his top teeth cover his bottom lip. "And then.. I come to my damn senses and realize I can't fuckin' risk my whole career for some pussy."

Ouch. Your eyes water at his sudden change of words.

Your heart stings at the rejection as you cover yourself quickly and climb off his desk. The end of day bell rings just in time to dismiss you as you head for the door.

"Y/n, wait." He sighs.

But you keep walking, leaving him behind like he did to you earlier. That's the last time he's going to make you feel like a fucking idiot. You tell yourself, frustrated that you let his mixed signals get to you.

"Goddamn it. Some pussy? The hells wrong with me." Negan whispers to himself, sliding a frustrated hand down his face as he leans back in his chair.

He feels terrible for making you feel that way, but he reminds himself it was for your own good. He knows you're about to go off to college, and the last thing he wants is for you to go catching feelings for your someone you can't have.

As a consequence of his good intentions, his cock aches painfully in his shorts while he stares blankly at the empty desk you sat on only minutes ago.

The sounds of students dismissing for the day are long gone as he realizes he's finally alone.

Fuck it. He says to himself before opening his desk drawer and pumping some lotion in his hand. He pulls his heavy cock out of his shorts, immediately gripping it in his hand and stroking it desperately.

His head falls back against his chair as he groans out, imagining your legs spread open in front of him once again.

His hand works his cock up and down, focusing on the sensitive tip as his eyes shut tight. He gathers his leaking precum with his thumb, working circles around the tip, wishing it was your lips instead.

A deep groan escapes his throat as he reaches his climax, spraying his load all over his white t-shirt. "Fuuuck, y/n." His eyes drift open when he moans your name, instantly connecting with yours as you stand from the doorway, watching him get off to the thought of you.

"I forgot my backpack."

Part 2 here

[merakiui]

We've talked about Prisoner Floyd, but now that Promising Young Man Riddle is behind bars, let's hear about Prisoner Riddle. Just when he thinks he can never find someone to replace his former teacher, here is...

Jailor Darling who is the highlight of Riddle's day. The few minutes you stop to chat with him behind his cell bars while you do your rounds stay in his mind long after you go.

Janitor Darling who secretly chats with the charming prisoner Riddle. Maybe she even indulges him in impossible daydreams like "someday when your out of here we'll start a new life." If Riddle is lucky, she'll sneak a strawberry tart in among her cleaning supplies.

Councilor Darling who is in charge of Prisoner Riddle's psych evaluation. Riddle always has had mommy issues, so women in positions of authority just make him want to submit.

AAAA YES YES!!!! All of these are so good,,, I think Riddle would fall for you if you're someone he can have an intellectual dialogue with! It was one of his favorite things to do with his professor. He just loves chatting about academic subjects with someone who will understand, and you're just that kind of person. Not only are you sweet and treat him like another human (and not as the man who killed his classmate in a fit of rage), you also take time to genuinely have a conversation with him. Riddle adores it! He falls head-first into another obsession, and you quickly become the highlight of his days.

In Riddle's mind, the prideful part of him is fully convinced he's different than the rest of the people in here. Sure, he's wearing a jumpsuit just like everyone else and he's serving his sentence dutifully, but he's different. He's delusional, and whenever you talk to him it feeds into the narrative he's crafted that he truly is better than the other prisoners. To Riddle, a murder of one is much better than the other heinous crimes and kill counts other prisoners have committed.

When you stop by to conduct his evaluation and have a chat, Riddle desperately wants to exchange thoughts on various subjects that interest him (psychology, criminal law, your favorite sweets, etc). You try to keep him on track because you have a job to do and you can't indulge him all the time. You need Riddle to talk about what happened; he needs to answer the questions you're asking. Riddle does that; he's obedient most of the time. It's in his blood to be a good student, after all. But sometimes he just can't help it. He wants to pick your brain in the same way you pick his, asking you what you think of his crime. Not from a psychological or professional viewpoint, but from your own personal perspective. He's genuinely curious.

I feel like Riddle's case would have a cult following almost...... he was so composed and articulate during his trial, looking just like a pristine businessman in his pressed suit and leather Oxfords. :) so put-together and respectful,, it does hurt when his mother refuses to look him in the eyes when she sits there in the audience. It does hurt when she refuses to visit or even write to him. It does hurt, but it feels better when he's sat in front of you and you're telling him he can be honest about everything.

And this time he doesn't have to worry about someone else trying to win your heart. This time, it's just you and Riddle. You may have other patients you see, but Riddle knows none are more fascinating or intelligent than him.

[j2hoes]

Hopes And Fears Part Three. (Wally Clark x Reader)

Summary: Y/N’s death is traumatic. So traumatic in fact, she can’t even look at Wally without reliving what happened to her.

Word Count: 2.4k

Gif Not Mine. Requests Are Open!

Warnings: Mature Language

I’ve grown fond of the early mornings whilst stuck at Split River. The first glimpse of the sun shining over the gardens, a warm hue welcoming the day. With no students roaming the halls, all I hear is the quiet sounds of nature. On the odd occasion, I’m even able to spot a rabbit or deer, grazing gently on the acres of freshly trimmed fields surrounding the school buildings.

It’s become a habit of mine, each morning I find myself lounging besides the flowerbeds. Allowing myself to feel each blade of grass that delicately brushes my skin. For a while, I forget that I’m no longer alive. I can simply exist.

It’s not uncommon for Wally to join me. Sprawled on his back, gazing up at the clouds. Pointing out different shapes and imagining different backstories for all of the cloud animals he sees. Besides that, neither of us speak much. Only enjoying one another’s company as we relax in the morning light.

Spending this time has given me the opportunity to process everything. Wally helps me to work through my emotions and thoughts. Nothing ever being too much for him to listen to, though I’m still afraid to divulge everything. I’m sure he can sense that I’m holding back, yet he doesn’t pry. Content to just listen. In all honestly, I truly believe that these moments with Wally have helped me more so than Mr Martin’s support group has. Despite attending every session since my memorial, I consistently leave the group feeling unfulfilled. Unsatisfied. In fact, it doesn’t seem as though the teacher wants us to discuss the past, our lives and our deaths. Only wanting us to focus on the present, the state we are confined to. I find myself struggling with this a lot.

“What do you think you would be doing if you hadn’t died?”

Pushing myself up on my elbows, I look over to Wally, who is resting on his stomach, absentmindedly plucking grass from the ground.

“I was supposed to go to college, play football. Hopefully make it pro, that’s what the plan was anyway.” He tells me, full of confidence yet his tone of voice suggests that’s not the pathway he would’ve chosen for himself.

“What about like outside of a job though?” I pry, the boy has my curiosity heightened. “Like, surely you have other things that you wanted to do?”

His eyes focus in on the pieces of grass that he’s now twisting together in a makeshift sort of chain. Deep in thought, I can see the cogs working in his brain as he tries to think of an answer for me. I’m sure it’s not something he’s necessarily thought of before, following the path that his mom set out for him upon birth.

“You’re gonna laugh, but I always wanted to get married and have a family. I know that times have changed and you lot don’t really believe in marriage and stuff that much anymore but I’m a family guy. Always have been.” He admits, finally looking at me and I see the honesty written across his face. “It just sucks that I’ll never actually get to experience it.”

My heart aches for him. One fatal accident and his entire future was stripped away. Never getting to experience the things he always dreamed of. It breaks heart, knowing what he could have had.

“Wally, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s no big deal, really, I’ve spent the last few decades accepting my fate and it’s not so bad here.” He tells me, a sadness shining in the brown of his eyes, trying his best to cover it up with a soft smile. “What about you? Other than taking over the world with your best friend, what was the plan?”

Giggling slightly as he references Abby’s speech, I start to wonder what my life would’ve looked like. Truthfully, I have no idea. My life revolved around dancing and cheer, other than that I have no clue as to who I am. Up until my death, I didn’t believe I was worthy of love, the one chance I took was with Spencer and look how that turned out.

“I suppose I wanted to leave Split River, Abby wanted to go to New York so I figured I would study there.” I reply, knowing New York was never my dream. I just couldn’t bare to part with her once high school ended. “It would be quite nice to live on a farm. Out in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by animals, I think that would’ve been my dream.”

“Now this makes sense.”

Crossing my legs underneath me to sit up properly, he’s unable to hide the bright smile on his face. Clearly finding some amusement in what I said.

“What makes sense?” I ask, to which he laughs quietly. Pulling a clump of grass out of the ground, I launch it in his direction. “Hey, you dickhead, I didn’t laugh at you, so you can’t laugh at me.”

“No, no. I’m not laughing at you.” Wally speaks through chuckles, rolling on to his back. “It just makes sense now why you like to sit out here.”

His arms are thrown across his face, shielding his eyes from the sun. I can’t help but stare as his muscles flex, admiring the sight in front of me. Following his body, I find myself biting the inside of my cheek as I notice his top has risen up his stomach ever so slightly. Highlighting the small trail of hair that dips below his shorts.

“Did you have a girlfriend?” I blurt out, before I even realise what I’m saying.

Slapping my hand across my mouth, embarrassment floods my body, eyes wide as Wally smiles. Eyebrows raised as he looks over to me. Sly smile making its way on to his face.

“No. No girlfriend. Why?”

“I was just wondering. I mean, star high school quarterback, you must have had girls queuing up for your attention.” I’m able to stop myself before I begin a long-winded rant. Helping to ease at least a tiny amount of my embarrassment.

Wally rolls his eyes at my comment. “Well in that case you must’ve had boys queuing up for your attention. What with being head cheerleader and all.”

“Ha ha. Okay, I know it was a stupid question.”

Fortunately for me, I’m saved from making a fool out of myself even more by the sounds of cars entering the parking lot. In unison, we both turn to face the sound. Observing the students that have started to filter into the building, chatting loudly amongst one another as they do so.

My vision locks in on Spencer and his gang of hooligans. They’re jumping all over one another without a care in the world as they make their way into the school. Trail of awestruck girls following behind in the hopes of garnering the smallest amount of attention from one of the jocks.

If only I was able to tell them what they’re really like. Perhaps they wouldn’t make the same mistake that I made. Perhaps I’d be able to save them from the same fate that I suffered.

“So I was thinking we could have a pool day. I think Charlie would be up for it, maybe not Rhonda, but it could be fun for us all just to chill out. You haven’t really spent much time with anyone else apart from in our sessions with Mr Martin.”

Wally’s words echo around my head though I’m not paying any attention. Despite, no longer being able to see the group that I was fixated on, I’m still closely watching the area that they had just previously been walking through.

Two weeks later and Spencer and his friends still evade justice. Police presence at the school has increased drastically with crime scene investigators cornering off the old toilet block. Maybe I’m impatient, but it feels like they’re getting away with it. Receiving no consequences for their heinous actions.

“Y/N, are you listening?”

Wally’s words finally drag me out of my thoughts and I meet his eyes. “Yeah, pool day, sounds good.”

“And we’re inviting Charlie and Rhonda.” He states, eyebrows raised as he knows I wasn’t truly paying attention to a word he said.

“Oh, no. They’re nice but can we just do it alone? I’m not sure I feel up to doing a whole group thing.”

Wally nods, though his eyes narrow. Sensing there’s something off with me. He’s good at noticing whenever my demeanour changes, or whenever something is bothering me. It’s part of his nature.

“Yeah of course. We should probably head to group first though.” The athlete pushes himself off the floor as he speaks, waiting for me to stand as well which I reluctantly do, not before releasing an annoyed groan. “You know, one of these days, you might actually enjoy the sessions.”

Rolling my eyes, I follow Wally towards the gym. He holds the doors open for me as we enter the building, his small act of chivalry makes me giddy. I make no effort to show this however, politely thanking the boy as I walk through.

“Ah here they are! Took you two long enough.” Charlie jokes as we enter the gym, taking our seats. I sit between Dawn and Rhonda with Wally seating himself between Charlie and Mr Martin.

“No guesses what they’ve been up to.” Rhonda comments, lollipop hanging out the side of her mouth as she does so.

“Thank you Rhonda.” Mr Martin chimes in, stopping the conversation from escalating any further. “So today, I figured we would get to know our newest member. Y/N you’ve been here for a couple of weeks now and we still don’t know too much about you.”

“I’m sure Wally could tell us all about her.” Rhonda remarks under her breath. So quiet, I almost don’t catch it.

“I’m sorry, is there something you want to say?” I snap, my tone harsh and confronting.

She laughs in response, the annoyance on my face evident as I glare at her. Her snarky and sarcastic nature hasn’t proven to be a problem for me, though I think that may be about to change.

“Y/N, tell us about your death. We’re all dying to know what happened. No pun intended.” The teacher interjects, attempting to diffuse the tense situation yet I still feel on edge.

“No thank you.”

“Oh come on Y/N, none of us are going to judge you. You know that.” Charlie tells me, offering me a reassuring smile.

“No, she’d rather just listen to all our trauma. Isn’t that right cherry pop?”

Rhonda’s words strike a chord within me. I’ll admit, the other ghosts have been very open about their deaths with me. All discussing in detail what happened to them to result in this fate. Sure, I haven’t divulged into the details of my death as of yet, but it’s for good reason. Not only am I still trying to process it myself but I don’t want them to look at me any differently nor do I want them to take pity on me when they learn the details.

“Do you have a problem with me or something Rhonda?” I ask, swinging around in my chair so that I can face her directly.

Upon doing so, I take note of how Charlie and Wally are quick to sit up straight. Feeling the anger radiating off me and awaiting any possible confrontation that may be about to occur.

“As a matter of fact, I do.” The girl retorts, crossing her arms over her chest before she continues speaking. “You waltz in here and make no effort with any of us besides Wally. Who, let’s not forget, you made to feel like a piece of shit on your first day after that unreasonable outburst. You listen to all of us recounting our deaths, the most traumatic things that could’ve happened to us and still none of us know what happened to you. It hardly seems fair.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry Rhonda. I’m sorry that i’m still processing what happened to me. I’m sorry that I’m not ready to discuss it with a group of strangers. I am so sorry that I’m not getting over everything as quick as you would like me to.”

My voice is raised as I speak, hurt that she would even think that my choice not to share what happened is a personal attack on the group. No matter how hurt I’m feeling, the anger completely outweighs it. Angry that she can’t see that I’m still struggling and angry that my murderers are still attending this school. Instead of being locked behind bars for the rest of their life, like they deserve to be. Nobody can understand what I am going through and that makes me so astonishingly angry.

“Boo hoo. You’re still processing, we’re all still processing. Not to mention the fact that we’ve barely seen Wally these past couple of weeks because he’s been trailing around after you, trying to make you feel less threatened by him. He’s even taken off that stupid football shirt that he loved so much! I hate to break it to you, but he was here first.” She argues, tears well in my eyes as she mentions Wally. I lock eyes with him and see his downcast expression. Was she right? Was he only spending this time with me to make me feel better and less scared? “You should do everybody a favour and fuck off back to the old toilet block where you came from.”

“Rhonda!” Charlie exclaims, clearly shocked by her words.

“Is that how you really feel Wally?” I ask hesitantly, the dejection evident in my voice.

He opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out. Nodding slightly, I understand completely. Pushing myself out of the chair, nobody speaks as I make my exit from the room.

“Lovely chat.” Rhonda shouts, one last attempt to get a reaction from me. Even as I shove open the doors with an obnoxious slam, I don’t look back.

The entirety of my body feels heavy as I drag myself down the hallways. Nobody comes after me, not even Wally. I feel truly alone, hurt and confused. Death was supposed to be peaceful and yet here I am. Suffering more than I ever did when alive.

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

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[stayteezdreams]

Dance Of Hearts

Plot: Returning for your yearly job at the Dance Camp, you prepare yourself for the nuisance that is Song Mingi. Will you be able to survive his games again? Or will you finally fall victim to his charms?

Pairing: Dance Teacher!Mingi x Dance Teacher!Reader (Gn!Reader)

Request: What about enemies to lovers with mingi, they’re both dance teachers at sleep away summer camp and he’s the menace I think he will be around the reader while reader tries to deny all the rumors the kids come up with about them both < sort of started out like this then went off the rails Requested By: Anon

Warnings: Mingi gives off sort of annoying fratboy vibes in the beginning and then becomes a KDrama level simp. So enjoy that whiplash I guess.

A/n: More like frenemies to lovers. This is my first time writing an au like this so I hope you like it! It turned out really long but I really enjoyed writing it!

Words: 5.9k

As the landscape grew more and more familiar, nervous and excited butterflies filled your stomach. As happy as you were to return to the camp, you had a few reasons to dread it as well. Lack of sleep, mosquitoes, sunburns.

But the main reason being, Song Mingi.

Mingi was another dance teacher around your age who had joined the camp about four years ago. You truly believed he made it his mission every season to irritate you as much as he could in the two weeks he had. Whether it be through challenging you, teasing you, or flirting with you, it was constant.

You and Mingi had an unusual relationship. The other staff and students called it a love-hate relationship, while many made bets on how long it would be before you either fought or started dating.

You challenged each other, teased and bullied, and you insulted yet joked with one another. He annoyed you, but you had to admit, you kind of missed him sometimes, often finding your mind drifting to him throughout the rest of the year.

But, you could never admit that out loud, especially not to him. You would never hear the end of it.

Your thoughts began to drift from Mingi as you pulled into the campsite. You noted a few familiar faces as you parked, your eyes landing on a tall man as he climbed out of his car. His hair was a different color for the fourth year in a row, but you could still recognize him from a mile away.

'Mingi'

You took in a deep breath as you refused to acknowledge the tightness filling your chest as your heart beat quickly.

Turning off your car you let out the deep breath, "Here we go."

Mingi's eyes scanned the area as he smiled at the other teachers and staff. The students would be arriving soon, but they weren't who he was looking for.

He started to frown as he saw no sight of you, fear creeping in that you wouldn't be here this year, but upon hearing another teacher call your name, his head snapped at the direction of the sound. His eyes finally landed on you as you smiled and waved to the girl.

Mingi scanned your figure as a smile spread across his face. Determination and confidence filled his chest as he clenched his fist around the strap of his bag.

As you spoke to the other teacher you looked around, your eyes eventually landing on Mingi. He held eye contact with you as his smile turned into a smirk. You let out a soft sigh as you looked away from him and left with the girl.

"This time." He muttered to himself, as he grabbed his bag and headed towards the cabins.

As the campers arrived and things started rolling over the next few days, you only thought about Mingi when he was around you. Which was only about a hundred times a day. He seemed to be seeking you out more often than he used to, which you found unusual and frustrating. Not just because he was annoying you purposefully every time, but because you seemed more nervous around him that years before.

Poking at the noodles on your plate, you felt your breath catch as a familiar scent filled your nose as someone sat beside you.

'He always wears the same scent.'

Feeling a shoulder press into yours you glanced to your left to see Mingi smiling pointedly at you.

"What?" You asked bluntly, making him chuckle.

"Just wondering how this years competition is gonna go."

You looked back at your food as you thought back on previous years.

The first year Mingi joined you two worked together to train the same group and won the end of summer competition. The next two years you were against each other, you won and then he won.

Mingi leaned a little closer, "Gonna try harder this time?"

You glared at him and he only smiled bigger. You knew he was just trying to rile you up to make you competitive.

You looked away from him with a soft scoff. "Why would I? You only won last year because the guest judges had crushes on you"

He opened his mouth in sarcastic offense before he smiled and leaned a little closer toward you, "Was that an insult or jealousy?"

You locked your eyes with his and he smirked. "I'm not jealous of you winning a swayed competition."

He leaned a little bit closer and you swear you saw his eyes flick to your lips, "I wasn't talking about the competition."

As you realize he was insinuating you were jealous because of the judges crushes, you felt your heart skip a beat. Before you could respond, you ears caught onto the amused and whispered comments of a nearby table of students.

"I told you they were dating!"

"I don't think they are, they look like they hate each other!"

"No they are totally dating, look at how they are looking at each other."

Realizing just how close Mingi was to you, you swallowed before scoffing in reply to Mingi's comment as you leaned away from him.

"You wish." You muttered as you rose, throwing out your scraps and heading back to our cabin.

Mingi watched you leave with a soft smile as his heart pounded, the students comments replaying in his mind.

Your body was tired as the day came to an end, you always struggled getting used to this amount of work the first week of camp. You began packing away your supplies as you heard the door slide open. Looking up, you smiled as one of the younger girls hired for a training program approached you.

"Hey what's up?"

She scratched the back of her neck nervously, "Hey. I was just wondering if I could ask you something."

"Sure what is it?"

"Well... it's about Mingi."

You felt your chest clench as you stared at her for a second. Was she going to ask if you were dating him? They always ask that. She was obviously crushing on him, as many of the teachers and student's did. You weren't sure why it annoyed you so much. No, that was a lie, you did, but you refused to acknowledge the reason.

"Uhm...are you dating him?"

'Knew it.'

You cleared your throat as you stacked a couple chairs. "No, I'm not dating him. And I never have, if that was your next question."

"Oh, cool. Well...just in case, cause I feel like it might be obvious I sort of have a thing for him-" she giggled nervously and you forced a smile. "Do you uhm- have feelings for him then?"

You paused as you felt you breath catch. That was always the question that followed. And as much as you convinced yourself you answered truthfully each time, you knew deep down it was only ever a lie.

"No, I don't."

"Huh? Really?" She asked in surprise, "Why not?"

You let out a soft scoff, "He's not my type."

Another lie.

The girl thought silently to herself for a moment before nodding, "Okay, sorry to bother you!" She waved before leaving and you let out a sigh.

Mingi's chest clenched tightly as he furrowed his brow. He watched the girl leave as your words echoed in his mind. After a few more moments you walked out as well, not noticing him as you closed the door and began to leave.

"What is your type then?"

You jumped in surprise as your hands flew up to your chest, "Oh my God!" You let out a groan, "You scared me!"

He smiled in amusement at you as he pushed himself away from the wall and approached you.

You let out an exasperated breath as you realized what he had asked, "Eavesdropping? Really?"

He shrugged his shoulders, "What? I was just walking past and heard my name. I think I have the right to know who's talking about me."

You sighed again, "Fair enough, but that doesn't mean I have to answer your question."

Turning, you began walking away from him, aware that he was going to follow you.

Catching up to you he walked practically pressed up against you as he pestered you. "Come on, just a hint. What's your type?"

You rolled your eyes as you stopped, causing him to stagger away to stop himself from colliding with you.

"Not you. That's all you need to know, now stop following me." You warned as you headed towards the bathrooms.

Mingi put his hands in his pockets as he watched you leave with a soft smile. His heart was pounding as his chest seemed to ache. Did you really not like him? Was he really not your type?

Your eyes were shut as you danced to the music playing. The movements were as natural as breathing even though you hadn't danced ballet in quite a while. Various thoughts ran through your mind as you moved around the room unaware you had a one-man audience.

When the song came to an end your heart jolted as clapping echoed throughout the room. You looked towards the door to see Mingi leaning against the wall with a smile on his face as he let out a soft laugh at your startled reaction.

Rolling your eyes you walked over to your phone to stop the next song from playing. As you sat on the ground to switch your shoes, Mingi walked over, crouching down in front of you.

"I always forget you can dance like that."

Glancing up at him a jolt ran up your spine at the intense stare he was giving you. You couldn't quite place the emotion in his gaze but you knew it made you heart race.

Breaking the eye contact you seemed to get stuck in, you continued switching your shoes, "What, does it intimidate you?"

He grinned and let out a soft airy chuckle and you couldn't help but smile too, knowing ballet was not intimidating in the slightest to someone like Mingi.

As you stood, you missed the way Mingi's eyes followed your every move. His heart fluttered at the sight of your smile, something that was rarely aimed at him, much to his dismay.

As you grabbed your bag, Mingi spoke again, the tone of his voice catching you off guard.

"Do you really hate me?"

You halted as you looked down at him with bewilderment, "What?"

"I always thought we had this sort of love-hate relationship, but I've been wondering recently if the love is all on my side."

Mingi almost laughed as he watched your brain seem to shut off and reboot as you blinked a few times in confused silence.

Shaking your head softly you met his gaze again with a soft frown and Mingi felt his chest clench. "I don't hate you."

He raised his brow a bit in pleasant surprise.

"You're annoying, and a menace and you drive me crazy. But, I've never hated you."

Mingi stared at you with a blank stare for a moment before suddenly standing and stepping towards you. You froze as he slowly rose his hand and wiped a strand of hair from your forehead where it was stuck. The sudden realization that you were probably sweaty and gross from dancing hit you and you suddenly felt shy.

'Why do I care?'

As Mingi continued to stare at you in silence, you swallowed before stepping back. Mingi quickly reached out and grabbed your wrist, stopping you, fearing you were going to walk away from him before he could do what he came to.

You looked between his hand and face as you quirked your brow at him.

"Do you know why I keep coming back to this camp every year?"

You frowned at him before slowly shaking your head no.

"Because of you."

Your heart seemed to skip a beat at his words. "What?"

"Because I want to see you." He swallowed nervously but continued, knowing this might be his only chance to have you alone like this. "You've never told me your number, or where you live, or how else to reach you. So I only get to see you here. So I come back."

Your heart was pounding heavy as you struggled to find you words before finally stuttered out. "That's a stupid reason."

He shook his head, "It's not, not to me."

"You want to tease and torment me that badly?"

He shook his head as he let out an exasperated sigh, "No, I just want to see you. And be around you. Do you really not get it?"

From the way you swallowed nervously and messed with the strap of your bag he knew you understood his words, but you didn't believe them. Did you think he was just messing with you? His chest clenched painfully as he took a small step closer to you.

"I like you. So much that every year I count the days till I can come back here and see you again."

You seemed to forget how to breath as you stared at him. His eyes burned into yours as he stared at you intensely.

"Don't you like me too?" His voice was soft, almost scared.

You hesitantly opened your mouth, uncertain of what to say as your thoughts and emotions that had been repressed all this time tried to escape, but the fear rejection and heartbreak tried to force them away.

Your eyes darted to the studio door as it slid open with a loud clang, revealing one of the other dance teachers. Mingi's face showed his clear disappointment and annoyance at the interruption, but the somewhat tipsy girl didn't notice as she grinned at the two of you.

"There you are! I've been looking for you everywhere! All the instructors and staff are down at the lake why are you guys up here?"

'You guys' You rolled your eyes at the attempt at including you, when her eyes were strictly glued to Mingi.

As she approached, you saw the way she glanced between the two of you, her obvious crush and jealousy showing.

She grabbed Mingi's arm as she grinned at him, "It's no fun without you there."

You felt your chest clench as you cleared your throat, "I don't feel like drinking so I'm just gonna head to bed."

Your eyes locked with Mingi's as you began to leave. He was clearly going to try and follow you, but the girl tightened her grip, stumbling a little, clearly on purpose, as she started gigging.

As you made it out of the studio, you let out a shaky breath as Mingi's words repeated in your mind.

'Don't you like me too?'

As you stared up at your ceiling that night, his question repeating over and over in your mind, you let out a soft sigh. Finally giving in to the thought you had pushed away for years.

'Yes, I do.'

The next week seemed to pass by in a blur. You had gotten so busy with your group you hadn't seen Mingi as often. You feared seeing him around every corner. Afraid he might find you again and force you to reveal your true feelings, something you weren't sure you were ready for.

Though, at the same time, you felt panic creeping up on you at the realization that the camp was almost over. Then he would be gone again for a whole year.

Coming to a decision you grabbed a piece of paper and a pen as your students prepared for the final competition at the end of camp.

You smiled brightly at your group as they cheered happily after being announced the winners. Your eyes scanned the crowd of students before landing on Mingi. Your heart jolted and your breath caught. He was clapping with a genuine smile on his face as he stared at you.

A smile spread across your own face before you quickly looked away, turning your attention to the students, your heart hammering nervously from the brief moment.

Mingi's eyes had been glued to your every movement as he tried to make his way through the crowd. Students and teachers were rushing around as everyone boarded busses and cars to return home. He didn't care to say goodbye to anyone but you, but everyone and their mother's seemed to need to speak to him, something he had found amusing in previous years, but now it only frustrated him.

He desperately needed to see you before the end of the camp. He couldn't let another year pass without being around you, not again.

His anxiety grew as you disappeared from his sight, lost in the crowds around him. His eyes darted to every face he passed by, but you were gone.

"Mingi!"

He turned at the sound of his name, but felt disappointment rush over him when another teacher approached him.

"Hey, where's Y/n?"

"That's why I'm here, they left already." Mingi's face fell as his heart dropped, "They were running late for their flight, but, they told me to give you this."

Mingi took the note, quickly opening it. His eyes scanned over the city name and phone number listed on the paper and he smiled letting out a soft breath. He nodded to himself as his mind already began turning, determination stronger than before.

You seemed to be constantly on edge after you left the note for Mingi. You read the text one more time as you walked towards your dance studio.

'See you soon ;)'

You knew it was from Mingi, but hadn't replied. Nor had he sent another message.

A week had already passed since the camp ended, and you consistently stopped yourself from sending him a message asking what he meant. You told him the city where you lived, but why did the message make it seem like he was gonna show up? It's not like you gave him your home address.

Entering the studio you smiled and greeted the front desk clerk before entering the studio. Spotting one of your coworkers she grinned and ran up to you.

"Hey, have you heard about the new dance teacher they hired?"

You shook your head "I knew they were hiring but I didn't know they found someone."

She nodded her head fervently, "They did and he's so attractive!"

You rolled your eyes with a soft laugh as you started setting your stuff down. "I want to ask him if he's single but that might be too forward right?"

You eyed her, "A bit."

She sighed, as she leaned against the wall. Hearing someone walk into the room your coworker gasped lightly before tapping your arm aggressively. You met her eyes as she motioned her eyes behind you.

'Must be the new guy'

Turning around, your eyes met with a pair of striking and familiar eyes, only a couple feet away from you. Mingi grinned knowingly at your shocked expression as he approached you.

You were stuck in stunned silence as Mingi let out a soft chuckle before taking another step closer and leaning in, "Miss me?"

Your coworker looked between the two of you, "You two know each other?"

Mingi nodded as he explained, your coworker nodding along in interest. Mingi's eyes never left your face, and you could hardly find the strength to breath as your thoughts raced.

'So, this is what he meant. But how did he find me? And why did he get a job here? He's not secretly some weird stalker serial killer right?'

As one of the lead dancers came in looking for Mingi, you made your escape to the locker room, aware he watched you leave. Disappointment was obvious on his face at missing the opportunity to talk to you properly.

You were on your toes the entire day, aware Mingi was in a nearby room as you wondered when you would see him next. You would have to talk to him. Before, you were too shocked to think properly, but now you needed to know what was going on with him.

When the day finally ended after seeming to drag on a lot longer than normal, you didn't see Mingi around the studio.

'Did he leave already?'

Frowning, you exited the studio, heading towards your car, slowing down as you saw Mingi leaning against the door.

As he spotted you he grinned, straightening up as you approached.

Before he could speak you broke in, "What are you doing here?"

"Well, I had been looking for a new job anyways and after you left me that note I was surprised to learn we really didn't live that far away from each other. Twenty minutes to be exactly."

As shocked as you were to hear this, you continued your own line of questioning. "So you applied for a job here?"

He nodded in reply.

"How did you know I worked here?"

"One of the few things I knew about you was that you worked in a dance studio. So once I knew you lived here, I asked around."

You squinted at him and he furrowed his brow. "You do realize this is stalker-like behavior right?"

He let out a laugh and nodded, "Yeah I realized that too but..."

"But?"

"But, you didn't answer my question."

You furrowed your brow, "What question?"

Stepping closer to you, he leaned down, looking into your eyes, a habit he seemed to be developing recently. You breath caught as he scanned your face.

"If you like me too."

Remembering back at the camp in the studio room, you swallowed nervously as you stared silently at him.

A small smile played at his lips as he let out a soft breath. "So, I'll be hanging around until you tell me. " Standing back up to his full height, he reached up and ruffled your hair, "See ya."

As he walked away, he left you in stunned silence beside your car as your heart and mind raced.

'Is he really going to stay here until I answer him?'

Looking back, you saw him at his own car. He met your eyes and paused with a smile as he winked at you before getting into the car.

You swallowed again before quickly getting into your own car, breathing heavy as your mind raced with what you should do as you laid your head against the steering wheel in exhaustion.

The following week was a new form of torture you had not been expecting. Mingi spent every moment at work he could teasing and openly flirting with you. Clearly tired of holding back his affection and not caring who else knew.

You poked at your food during lunch as your friend drilled you for information on Mingi.

"So you've known each other for a few years?"

You shrugged your shoulders. "Sort of, we only ever saw each other during the dance camp."

She hummed as he looked around, a smile forming on her face. "Well he's clearly obsessed with you. "

You scoffed softly, though your heart skipped a beat. "Don't be ridiculous."

She caught your eye before motioning her head behind you. Looking back curiously towards the table the other's were sitting at, your eyes locked with Mingi's as he had been staring at you.

His lip quirked up as you quickly looked away, your friends smile widening, "Do you still think I'm being ridiculous?"

You cleared your throat as you tried to steady your hammering heart, "Yes, now be quiet."

She chuckled as you messed anxiously with your food, now aware of his eyes on the back of your head.

By the end of the day, you had forgotten about lunch, and even Mingi. Up until you found him waiting for you at your car after work.

He had the same smile plastered on his face as you approached, but you saw the way his eyes scanned over you, an almost worried gaze on his face as your leg bent stiffly as you walked.

"What now?"

He chuckled, "I just wanted to see how you were, I heard you twisted your leg earlier. Does it hurt?"

So it was worry on his face. Your heart fluttered but you tried to ignore it.

You looked down at your leg as you kind of shook it around. "It's a bit stiff but fine, nothing serious."

He nodded his head as he let out a soft sigh of relief. "Good." He cleared his throat as he glanced around, "Wanna get dinner?"

You felt your chest tighten as your stomach flipped. "Dinner?"

He nodded and you realized just how hungry you were.

Thinking about how little food you had at home, and how much you dreaded cooking anything you nodded, "Sure."

As you saw the brief surprise cross Mingi's face you realized this might not be the best idea. As his face was quickly covered in a happy grin you held back, guilty at the thought of changing your mind now.

You stared into your drink as you played with the straw, too afraid to look up as you could feel Mingi's gaze burning into your skin.

Finally giving in and glancing up, you saw a soft sparkle behind his gaze at he looked at you, making your heart seem to flutter.

"Why do you keep looking at me like that?" You couldn't help but ask, mostly to break the growing tension.

He smiled softly, "Because I like you."

You swallowed hard, butterflies filling your stomach. You began fiddling with your hands nervously, something Mingi noticed immediately.

Giving into your curiosity you spoke softly, "Since when?"

He rose his brow, "Huh?"

"Since when have you liked me?"

He looked down at the table as he thought for a moment before looking back up with you with an almost shy smile. "Since the day we met."

You leaned forward in surprise, "What?" You glanced around, a bit embarrassed at the volume of your own voice. Lowering your tone you looked at him, "Four years ago?"

He chuckled, "Yeah. The first time we met you were bright and bubbly but fierce, and you challenged me on my first day. You told me I was replacing one of your past teaches so I had big shoes to fill." He smiled as he stared at you, "Ever since then, I was intrigued by you, and before I knew it, I was always thinking about you. And I guess I wanted you to notice me, and since you only ever acknowledged me when I was annoying..."

"You decided to make it your entire personality?"

He laughed as he nodded, embarrassed by his own behavior. You couldn't help but laugh along as you thought back on that first summer you met him. He always seemed really nice and caring, yet was always so different around you.

"I always wondered why you were like that around me and no one else."

"You noticed?"

"It was kind of obvious." You chuckled, "I just thought you didn't like me very much. And as the years passed I just figured you enjoyed annoying me for your own fun I guess."

He frowned as he let out a sigh and shook his head in annoyance at himself. "I'm sorry. When I finally realized I had been like that for too long, it was too late."

Mingi looked back up at you, and you seemed to get lost in each others eyes for a moment, the tension began to build before you broke eye contact and looked away. You heart was hammering heavily in your chest as your mind raced about the decision you needed to make.

As Mingi walked you back to your car, you looked over at him almost shyly, "Thanks for dinner. I'll buy next time." You hesitated at your own words as his brow rose before he grinned.

"Did you just ask me on a date?" He teased making you roll your eyes.

"Don't be cheeky."

He chuckled as you climbed into your car. He remained by your car as you started it, raising his brow in curiosity as you rolled down your window and looked up at him.

"The answer to your question is yes by the way."

He frowned in confusion as you smiled almost teasingly at him.

"I do like you."

His eyes shot open wider as realization formed on his face. Before he could reply you rolled up your window and pulled away, leaving him to watch after your car in stunned silence.

As your car disappeared, he started grinning to himself as he pumped his fists and jumped around in excitement and celebration at his requited feelings. Letting out a loud sigh of relief, he got into his car, cheeks aching from grinning as he thought about what to do now.

Your own smile tugged painfully at your face as you drove home. Your heart seemed to never slow down as the adrenaline of confessing your feelings remained throughout the night, eventually leaving you exhausted in bed as you slept restlessly, waiting for the next day to come.

Arriving at the studio earlier than normal since it was your turn to set up, you felt nervous in your own skin. Part of you wanted to avoid Mingi strictly out of shyness, while the rest of you wanted to see him as soon as possible.

You shook your head with a soft sigh as your own flip-flopping feelings. As you set up the studio, waiting for the other's to arrive, you wondered if he was feeling and thinking the same things. Would he be his normal self? More forward? Would he avoid you?

Your question was answered as a voice suddenly spoke right next to your ear, "Morning."

You jumped away out of surprise, seeing a grinning and chuckling Mingi beside you.

"Mingi!" You gasped out with a breathy chuckle.

The doors opened as a few of the others showed up with bright smiles and greetings. You and Mingi met eyes as he smiled knowingly at you.

Suddenly grabbing the equipment in your hands he smiled at you, "How's your leg?"

You nodded with a shy smile, "It's fine, no pain."

He nodded in relief as he helped you finish setting up, the tension between you more casual than anxious.

Mingi couldn't stop looking over at you, hoping to catch your eye each time. He could barely sleep last night, his thoughts full of you and where today might lead. You may have confessed you liked him too, but it was just that. Now he was determined to make you his.

As one of he studio managers called Mingi to help him, he looked over at you before stepping closer, leaning down so he was close to your ear.

"I'll see you later."

As quick as he was there, he was gone, leaving your cheeks burning as you realized he had pressed a swift kiss to your cheek before walking away. So fast you barely had time to process it. You looked around, seeing no one had seen anything, you let out a shaky breath, your heart hammering as you smiled giddily to yourself.

Mingi, being the new guy, ended up running errands all day for an upcoming charity event. You had barely seen him, even as the day came to an end.

As you did at the end of each work week, you spent a couple hours after work practicing alone once everyone else had gone home. As you moved to the music, your thoughts bounced from the event, to Mingi, to your work schedule, but mostly to Mingi though.

Eyes closed, you spun around, gasping as you collided with something. When your eyes shot open, you saw Mingi holding you against his chest, arms wrapped around you as he had caught you when you staggered away.

"Mingi." You muttered out in surprise.

He smiled softly as he looked at you, "Sorry, I got so caught up in watching you I didn't realize you were coming towards me." He smiled sheepishly and you giggled softly.

"It's okay."

His eyes trailed down your body and you felt a shiver run up your spine.

"Are you sure you should be dancing?"

You smiled, knowing he was worried about your leg.

"It's fine, I promise."

He pressed his lips together tightly but nodded. Realizing you were still pressed up against him, hands on his chest, you started to push yourself away, only for him to pull you back.

You questioned him with your eyes and he smiled softly as he slowly leaned his face closer to yours. You froze in anticipation, his eyes almost burning into yours.

"Are you going to avoid me?"

You furrowed your brow and shook your head, "Why would I?"

"It's become your motive every time we get closer."

Realizing this was true you looked down, gently squeezing the cloth of his shirt in your hands. He tightened his grip on your arms just enough to get you to look back into his eyes.

Bringing his hands from your arms to your face, he gently cupped your cheeks as he smiled at you.

Your breath caught as his eyes slowly wandered around your face, lingering on your lips before he met your eyes again.

"I've waited four years for you. I can wait as long as you need. But, to be honest, I don't want to,. So..."

Your voice came out as a whisper as our heart pounded in your ears. "So?"

"So be with me now."

You stared at him in silence for a moment, your eyes gazing into each others before you gently nodded your head.

A grin slowly spread across his face, causing you to smile in return.

He began caressing your cheek with his thumb as he slowly leaned forward, closing the already narrow gap between you. His lips pressed softly against yous, motionless for a second before he leaned in more, gently deepening the kiss for a brief moment before pulling away.

You were stunned by the kiss, and Mingi gazed into your eyes, almost worried about how you would react. As you smiled shyly at him, his smile widened before he pulled your face close again.

He paused briefly just before your lips met, your eyes locked before you both leaned in, kissing each other. His hands caressed your cheeks before he moved them to wrap around your waist, pulling you close to his body. As your lips melted together, you wrapped your arms around his neck allowing yourself to be lost in the kiss.

You weren't sure how long you had been kissing, but when you finally pulled away you were both out of breath. He pressed his forehead against yours as he gently swayed you back and forth.

"Does this mean we're officially together now?"

You chuckled softly as you nodded, "Yes."

He grinned as he leaned his head back almost dramatically. "Finally!"

You laughed as you gently smacked his chest. He pulled you closer and you laid your head against his chest. Thinking for a moment you chuckled.

Mingi looked down at you in curiosity, "What?"

"I wonder how everyone at the camp is gonna react next year."

He grinned. "I doubt anyone will be surprised."

You smiled, "I might become enemy number one to all of the other teachers."

He chuckled, "Don't worry, I'll protect you."

"Promise?"

He nodded happily as he held you closer, resting his head against yours, "I promise."

xx End xx

Not sure how I feel about the ending but I didn't have a plan for it lol so it is what it is.

General Taglist: @otsilliak, @brattybunfornct, @bahng-chrizz, @otakutrash669, @tinyelfperson, @pinievsev, @teenyfinds

Ateez Taglist: @soso59love-blog, @dlmlufics, @hongjoongsprincess, @tunaasan, @thedistractedwriter, @dear-dreamie, @thunderous-wolf, @briqnne,@hyukssunflower, @dinossaurz, @dancelikebutterflywings, @skz1-4-3, @staytiny2000, @crazyformfics, @demonlineslut, 

Mingi Taglist: @ye0nvibezzn

-Taglist Form-

[ink-stainedkiss]

What about Saiki meeting a Reader who has pretty appearance like Teruhashi Kokomi, but has the average mindset and personality like Satou Hiroshi?

You’re Nothing Special (AKA: Perfect)

- Kusuo Saiki

Synopsis: The new student is more than Saiki expected. You are completely ordinary. Nothing about you is different or odd and Saiki loves it. He has decided he must become your closest friend, all throughout a 3-step plan.

Guys I have noticed the favoritism towards this little psychic, which I completely understand. I guess I just thought people would like my Jjk works better, but I’ve been having so much fun with your request. Anyways, this is the first “series” of Saiki I’ve made and I hope you guys enjoy it! Part 2 is in the works as I type ;)

“Regular speaking.”

Regular thinking.

Saiki Thinking.

‘Saiki Speaking.’

Your texts

Saiki’s text

Warnings: None. Although Saiki does act tad bit obsessed about you.

Word Count: 1.8k

Pt.1 ᯓ★ Pt.2

The school was buzzing with anticipation. Whispers flooded the hall of the new girl in school. They wondered if she would be popular or just another extra wandering the halls.

“I hope she’s hot.”

“I’m betting she’ll be a nerd.”

“She won’t be as pretty as me.”

“Maybe she’ll join the math club?”

“Shut up geek.”

Yes, the campus was very excited to see their new classmate. Except for a certain psychic. I really couldn’t care any less. And Saiki meant it. A new student meant another headache Saiki had to endure and it was wishful thinking to hope they didn’t create any sort of problem. As Saiki’s luck would have it, the new girl was moving into his own class.

“Buddy!” An overly loud voice shouted, making Saiki let out an audible sigh,”Have you heard about the new girl?” The big oaf, Nendo, slid his way to Saiki’s desk, carrying along Saiki’s other pain,”I heard that she’s quiet and shy, so I bet you when she gets a look at The Jet Black Wings, she’ll fall into my arms.” Or she’ll run and find the nearest psychologist.

Saiki was so tired of these two, but they clung to him even if he wasn't particularly kind to them. Although, they were both extremely out of the ordinary and they could make perfect distraction. It was as if a lightbulb had flicked on his head, ‘You should go for it.’ Kaidou and Nendo whipped their heads around, astonished by Saiki’s proposition.

“Woah, are you being serious?” Kaidou questioned,”I thought you would call me an idiot or something.” Nendo scratched his neck, a bit freaked out by his buddies' words,”I mean, if Saiki is saying that, then I would listen to him.” Like a flipped switch, Kaidous' unsureness washed away and he was standing confidently with his chest puffed out,”Yeah, I will. Thank you for your wise words, my closest friend.” Good grief. Now you’re just making it weird.

Kaidou marched back to his seat, leaving only Nendo to watch the blue-haired boy pridefully. He looked down, tossing a large thumbs up at the psychic,”You’re a great friend Saiki, I’m so proud.” A tear slipped from Nendo’s eye and Saiki truly couldn’t believe Nendo was a human who walked earth. As he walked to his seat, he slapped his hand on Saiki’s back, and while he could just teleport to the side to avoid his hand, the class was too crowded, so he miserably had to accept the pat.

Eventually the class settled down, everyone in their respective seats. As soon as the bell rang, the teacher clapped grabbing everyone’s attention,”I’m sure you have all heard of the new student,” this caused a small chatter to start, but the teacher continued anyways,”Well, lucky for you guys, she is moving into our class,” Moving towards the door, Saiki’s teacher motioned to it,”Come on in!”

A deafening silence fell over each student, everyone holding their breath as the girl began to walk in. Saiki couldn’t deny his own anticipation, but he was much more toned down. When you finally came into view, Saiki wanted to disappear, teleport out of the school, because there was no way you were going to bring anything good. You stood before the class and Saiki was the only one who could see the tiny golden ring of light embracing you. It wasn’t as blinding as his, or Teruhashi’s, but it was still there.

Those around him let out gasps, because, even if Saiki didn’t want to admit it, you were beautiful. Great. She’ll most likely join Teruhasi’s group or become her enemy. Either way, I want nothing to do with it. His classmates' thoughts made it worse, each of them annoying the psychic more and more.

She’s so hot, but not as much as my goddess.

I can already tell she’s going to love her knight, Jet Black Wings.

What time is lunch again?

“Why don’t you introduce yourself to everyone?” The teacher suggested. You nodded, stating your name,” Um, I hope we all get along,” This intrigued Saiki, just a bit, but his interest was caught nonetheless. The teacher let out an awkward laugh at your bland answer,”Why don’t you tell the class about why you moved here?”

You shrugged,”It’s nothing special, they just moved here because of my moms job and this school was a good option.” The teacher was obviously trying to get more information out of you,”Right and any fun facts about yourself?”

Taking your time, you conjured a few,”I have a pet cat at home and I like to bake.” The teacher's jaw dropped, how can she be so ordinary? They thought,”Do you have a favorite class? At least?” You nodded shortly,”Science is pretty fun.”

The class was so confused. You were so pretty, but so boring. On the other hand, Saiki was having a very good epiphany. There’s nothing weird about you. No odd fascination or addiction. You hadn’t moved to a different school for being a bad student. You don’t play make believe and you don’t seem dumb.

The teacher had dismissed you to your seat and it was then that Saiki realized what you were. You’re not anything special, you’re ordinary. Perfect. A while ago, Saiki had found someone like you, but sadly for him, Hiroshi thought Saiki was too odd to be friends. But you were going to be his redemption. Maybe today the universe was on his side, because you strolled up and sat right next to him. Maybe Saiki was going to enjoy school from now on.

—

The psychic had curated a three day plan on how to become your friend and at the most, your closest friend. Because of your normal introduction, no one spoke about you. The excitement from a few hours ago was gone. Whenever someone asked who hadn’t seen you yet, they waved them off, saying something like,”Don’t even worry about her, she’s like the boringest person here.”

And Saiki adored it. The more people ignored you, the more valuable you became. The word some would describe Saiki as at this time, is obsessed, but how could he not be? Everyday he wished for someone to come along that had no interesting traits about them and you were that person. So the next day, he began the first step to his plan. 1. Prove that Saiki can be kind.

Kind was a bit of a stretch, but he couldn’t be mean to you, even if he tried. He was going to have to play it friendly. The downside to you being normal, meant that nothing problematic happened in your life. So as Saiki sat next to you, waiting for a chance to show you his kindness, no opportunity came forward. You were just taking notes like a normal human. Which Saiki would usually gush over, but he had more important plans. He glanced at your desk, noticing the extra highlighter resting near your notebook. He knew you weren’t going to accidentally hit it, so he took matters into his own hands. Someone has to do it.

Saiki focused on your highlighter, using his telekinesis to pull it closer and closer to the edge of your desk, until it fell onto the floor. People turned their heads, but when they saw you, they didn’t seem to care and turned back. The psychic saw you turn and before you could reach down and pick it up, Saiki was already lifting it from the ground, handing it to you,”Oh, thank you.”

Your short and simple response almost made Saiki forget to answer you, ‘It’s not a problem.’ And that was it, you turned back to your work and left Saiki alone. Little did you know, you were putting that boy in a trance. You barely interacted with him and Saiki was starting to smile.

There was a tiny setback in Saiki’s plan, but he didn’t seem to notice. His first course of action was to prove he was a nice person, but he only spoke to you once, so you didn’t have a great impression of him, just that he had manners. Still, Saiki couldn’t see a problem and left you alone the rest of the day. Well, he searched for you in the halls and the cafeteria, but he would never mention that.

—

The next step was to grow in proximity together. Only sitting with you in one class wasn’t enough time to create a good friendship, so he had to use the resources around him. Like the new duo project assigned by the teacher.

“And Saiki you will be paired with the new girl.” The teacher called out, lifting the two slips of paper they had pulled out of a bowl. Okay, so Saiki may have used his hypnosis ability to make your name appear on the slip, but it’s all in good nature. How else am I supposed to get closer if you’re stuck with some idiot?

After hearing this, you turned to the boy next to you,”I guess we’re stuck together, huh, Saiki?” The psychic couldn’t believe it. You knew his name. You were speaking to him, making jokes, maybe he actually had a chance this time. He gave a soft smile, nodding, ‘I don’t mind it.’

The teacher kept going on about the partner and you turned to him, pulling out your phone,”Here, we can swap contacts to plan a get together.” It was music to Saiki’s ears and he happily accepted your suggestion. Once he put his name into the contact, the bell rang out, making the students around you two stand and exit the class. He passed you back your device, watching as you stood,”Well, see you later, Saiki.”

You gave him a small wave and faded into the crowd of students. My plan is going better than expected.

—

Saiki sat in the lunchroom, surrounded by his group of annoyances, but rather than spending his time listening to the exasperating conversations between Nendo and Kaidou, or over hearing the drooling thoughts of Teruhashi’s goons, his attention turned to his phone buzzing on the table. When he flipped it over, he was surprised to see your name in the notification. It was you. His food was abandoned quickly and he typed back.

Hey, do you have anything going on this weekend?

No I do not, would you like to study together at that time?

It’s like you read my mind lol

Saiki gave half of a smile. If only you knew.

Anyways, yeah that sounds good, does Saturday work for you

Any day works for me, so yes.

Okie dokie my mom already suggested for you to come to my house, so if it’s fine with you, I wouldn’t mind us working there.

Saiki’s smile grew bigger, this had to be a dream. You were inviting him over to your house.

It sounds perfect.

Great! I’ll see you tomorrow :)

Great indeed. It was a good thing Saiki had an extreme amount of patience, or else he might’ve asked to see you after school, but no. Good things come to those who wait. And this reward was most definitely going to be worth the wait. It might even be on the same level as coffee jelly.

Until Saturday…

[mixtape-racha]

crybaby | hwang hyunjin

oh, your baby was such a good boy. and so, so pretty when he cried for you. // 18+, minors dni

words: 1.23 k// warnings: sub!hyunjin, nipple play, praise, premature ejaculation, dacryphilia, dance teacher!hyunjin x local dj!reader, brief piv at the beginning, porn with plot

a/n: based on this request by anon!! i hope i did it justice ♡

it was enlightening, really, to see how hyunjin reacted to praise. to see how he flushed red when people complimented him, to see how he hid his face in your shoulder when people told you what a cute couple you were. he had always been sensitive to praise, but you wondered how far that shyness went - and how much you could indulge him in it.

that was how you discovered how shy and submissive he really was. it was an accident, in all honesty. you wanted to test your luck by calling him a good boy while he was balls deep in your cunt, whining and whimpering as he dragged his cock along your walls. you truly weren’t expecting him to let out a high-pitched cry at your words, before cumming so hard inside you that you swore you could feel it in your throat.

the embarrassment that flooded his features was enough to have you dripping again, the realization of how much power you really held over him churning your stomach in a truly satisfying way. he really would do anything for you to praise him, huh? now, you could definitely get on board with that.

“its okay, baby. you did so good for me, don’t be upset.” you shushed him, lovingly, stroking his hair as he buried his face between your tits to hide his flustered expression. the last thing you wanted was for his embarrassment to cause an unpleasant sub-drop, and so you worked your hardest, giving him the best aftercare of his life and treating him like the delicate prince he was.

you pondered on his sensitivity for a few weeks after that, brainstorming a plan to have an evening that was all about him, and seeing how far his limits truly went. it started mostly innocently, playing with his gorgeous blonde hair in the bath together while he told you about his day.  work was harder than usual, he told you. he’d been dragged into teaching a dance class for newer students on top of his already packed schedule. he loved being a teaching assistant at the local music academy, but it was rough sometimes.

sometimes he claimed you were the only good thing to come out of the job - meeting you when you were just a part-time guitar teacher there, before the opportunity to become a radio dj at the local station, broadcasting worldwide, and also better pay for less hours. but you knew he didn’t mean it - the kids he got to teach, and watch grow, made him so immensely happy that you couldn’t picture him working anywhere else.

once you had moved back to the bedroom, things got… less innocent. you went from caressing his hair, and softly mumbling about how much you loved him, to grinding on his lap and messily making out - a concoction of drool and clashing teeth making him painfully hard from where you sat on him.

you worked quickly to rid him of his shirt, marveling at his body. you swore blind he must have been carved by greek gods, because there was no way anyone could be that pretty. his cock was painfully hard against the material of his sweatpants, precum staining the gray material darker in a patch where he needed you the most. but he would have to wait for that, you told him, wanting nothing more than to worship the piece of heaven before you in every way you could.

when hyunjin was exceptionally needy, he was extremely sensitive. anything, even the smallest touch, could have him keening into your touch, babbling and drooling all over for you. more often than not, you took advantage of that - and today was no different.

from soft kisses of his plush lips, you began mouthing down his jaw and throat, hands caressing every inch of skin you could reach. you shushed him everytime he whined, or tired to move your hips against him, telling him if he behaved that it would all be worth it. he instantly folded at that, taking your every word as sacred and doing whatever you asked of him.

once you were satisfied with the new batch of dark, splotchy marks you had attached to his neck and collarbones, you moved your attention to his chest. he was so, so beautiful, and you just couldn’t resist. with one hand playing with his nipple, you were quick to attach your lips around the other, teasing it with your tongue. his back arched at the motions, pushing his chest further into your face as he started to mumble out nonsense that you couldn’t begin to comprehend.

swapping your hand and mouth, you were keen to give both sides equal attention, oblivious to the wrecked state hyunjin was in. you were so wrapped up in how amazing he felt underneath you, you didn’t even realize the way he had tears springing from his eyes, and his fists balled in the sheets below.

“please, oh fuck, please please, (y/n)-- too much, too much-!”

you pulled away with a pop, caressing his cheek as you looked down in faux sympathy. he was an absolute state, and it was so unbelievably hot. tears falling down his flushed cheeks, lip wobbling from trying to contain his moans. his cock was throbbing beneath you and you couldn’t help the way you cooed at him. 

“too much, baby boy? does that mean you want me to stop?”

the shake of his head was so fast you nearly got whiplash.

“no, no, please. i’m your good boy, please.”

“yeah, you are,” you smiled, pinching one of nipples hard. “my perfect boy, aren’t you, jinnie? such a good boy, and all mine.”

with your words still ringing in his ears, you dipped you head back down, sucking on his nipple and tongue swirling around it like it was your last lifeline. with a final pinch and flick of his other nipple, you felt him tense beneath you, quickly pulling away in confusion to look at his face.

he let out a moan so loud that anyone else would think he was in pain, veins popping out of his neck and eyes rolling to the back of his head. you smirked as you felt a wet patch growing beneath you, and rocking your hips cautiously, overwhelmed with emotion when he whimpered and begged you to stop. it was too much, he said. too much, and not enough. give him a second to breathe, he asked, and you were more than willing to comply.

“that good, love?” you asked, teasingly, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to his lips when he nodded. he’d never come just from your abusing of his nipples before, and god knew you were going to be trying to more often.

he was breathless, chest heaving as his blush spread onto his ears and down his chest. but for once, he didn’t seem embarrassed. more delirious with pleasure, and so out of it your body craved to see more.

“think you can give me one more, baby?” you smirked, moving down the bed to rest between his legs, hands playing with the hem of his sweatpants. his overwhelmed nod was all you needed before you bit your lip with glee, already manhandling the offending clothing item down his legs.

yeah, you sure struck gold with such a good boy like hyunjin.

taglist: join taglist here @pretty-racha @chubbyanarkiss @taeriffic @mits-vi @chanssmiles @5kayzee @queen-klarissa @torixx80 @fawnpeaks @bangtanmix73 @savluvsmingi @boi-bi-ahaha @skz-streamer @demetrisscarf @4evrglow @manj1ro @linocvpid @alextheweeb7 @chans-american-slave @unsweetenedpeatea @carpioassists @bangtancultsposts @reiheis @happilydeepestwonderland @leemidnightmoon @watariisbestboy @hwangrimi

[rapz-rites]

Oh Baby

Damian Wayne x Reader established relationship

Jon Kent x Reader (Platonic)

You’re not telling Damian something, and he thinks it’s that you're cheating

A/N: A lovely anon requested this. I hope you like it and feel free to send more requests or even message me.

Word Count: 2k+

Warnings: misunderstandings, pregnancy, secrets 

You and Damian met sophomore year at Gotham Academy. You were in most of his classes. But he never truly paid any mind to you until your government class. It was a small class of 15 students. 

Your government teacher was holding a class mock debate. 3 students would ask questions as there were 3 topics of discussion. The rest of the students would pair off into 2s and prepare on all the 3 topics as it would be random and no one would know which topic they might get. 

“The three topics of debate will be abortion, racial discrimination, and immigration. And the 3 question leads will be Marcus, Catelyn, and Luca. Everyone else, pair up.”

Girls immediately started surrounding Damian and the boys with you. Damian saw how uncomfortable you were with the boys' awful advances at you. He continued to ignore the girls and walked to you. 

“You can leave. I’m partnered with Y/N.”

Everyone was confused. Even the teacher. Damian never willingly chose to work with anyone. But you decided to take advantage of the opportunity before it went away. 

“Yup. It’s true. So all can go now.” With that, you waved them off and Damian took a seat next to you. 

Everyone else paired off and the teacher started talking. She explained the instructions for the debate and the rubric as it would be graded. 

“There are 15 minutes left of class. You have this time to yourselves, use it wisely.”

You turned to Damian.

“When do you want to start working on the project? I'm available after school today to work in the library.”

“I can't today. I am tomorrow though. Let's exchange numbers.”

And that's how it started. The next day, you and Damian started going to the library after school and texted about the assignment. Even after the in class debate you two would talk. 

Damian found you more tolerable than the rest of the kids at Gotham, and much smarter. He started hanging out with you more and more. In and out of school, obviously without his brothers knowing. 

Eventually, he asked you out, you said yes, and both of you started dating. It’s been over 2 years since. You both have a lot into the relationship. You and Damian opened up to each other. He gave you his trust, which is difficult for him, and you gave him your virginity. 

Though Damian wasn’t your first boyfriend or kiss, he was your first time. And you were happy about it. Even though it was a bit awkward, especially at the beginning, he made it special for you. He would ask if you were ok with something, how you felt, and he just took care of you. Something you never truly had with past boyfriends. 

“Oh my gosh!”

You and Damian only had sex 2 times, both in the past 6 months. Damian took care of you after and you peed.  You were both safe and used protection. That's why you couldn't understand the 3 positive pregnancy tests. 

“No. It can't be.”

You suddenly started crying, collapsing on the bathroom floor of your one-bedroom apartment. 

Since then you haven't been the same. After a few days of thinking, you decided that you would keep the baby. You lost your parents at 15, in an accident. They were wealthy. They had a mansion on the outskirts of Gotham, just like all the other socialites, and a condo near your school. In their passing your parents left everything in your name. You refused to go in the system. You were able to convince your old nanny to become your legal guardian, at least until you could get emancipated. You’ve always wanted a family anyways

You had to tell Damian. Your mind had been running through any possible reactions you'd get from Damian once you told him. Best case scenario he accepts it and decides to stay with you and be a father to the baby. Worst case, he leaves you and you have to raise the baby all by yourself. 

Damian noticed your odd behavior. You were secretive, jittery and would always make excuses not to hang out with him. 

“Sorry, I have a test coming up and need to study. I'll text you” you would say. But you never texted. 

“I'm volunteering this afternoon. I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you.” You kissed him goodbye on his cheek and walked away

You did the same to your friends. He didn't understand why. Did he do something wrong?

Keeping your pregnancy a secret was eating you alone. You had to tell someone. So you texted someone you could trust. 

You: Hey. Are you busy? I really need someone right now. 

Suddenly there was a gust of wind in your condo. Before you stood Jon Kent. Before you could even speak, that’s when he heard it. Not one, but 2 heart beats. Before you can even process him getting into your place, he hugs and spins you. 

“Oh my gosh! Congratulations!” He smiles from ear to ear. “Wait. I probably should be spinning you.”

Once he put you down he started looking around. Where’s Damian? How come he isn’t here telling me with you? That’s when you started to break down crying. 

“He doesn’t know. And I don’t know how to tell him.” You say hiccupping. Jon just comforted you until you stopped crying. You explained everything to him. 

“You have to tell him at some point. He probably thinks that you're avoiding him because he did something wrong. But I'm here for you.” You hugged him crying. 

“Sorry, it's the hormones.”

For the next 2 weeks, Jon comes to visit you whenever he gets the chance. No one knew.

Clark and Bruce had to collaborate on some League business. So, he and Jon would be staying in Gotham for a few days. 

Jon was heading out when he passed the kitchen 

“Hey Jon” said Dick. 

Damian was paying no mind to them. He was testing you, hoping he could see you today. 

D💚: Hello Beloved

Beloved💜: Hiii Dami

D💚: Are you available today?

Beloved💜: I’m sorry I can’t 😕

                     I promised Layla we could hang out today

                     We can hang out tomorrow tho

                     Pinkie Promise 🤞

D💚: Okay 🤞

         Have fun and be safe

Beloved💜: I will try

                    Won’t be much fun without you 😚

Once, at school you were texting Jon. You were stressing over telling Damian for the 4th time that day… It was only 11 am. And you were spamming him phone

Jon 🦸🏻: OMG

            We’re both at school go learn or something

            My parents are going on a date tonight so I’ll try to swing by

Y/N🤞🏾: ok ok

           See you tonight

“Hey Beloved. Who were you texting?” Damian came up to you. You quickly closed messages and put your phone in your pocket. 

“Hey Damian. It was Layla.” You responded hesitantly. “It’s nothing really but I have to go. I have to study before my test next period” You kissed him goodbye on his cheek and rushed off. 

He knew you weren’t texting Layla, he just saw her a few moments ago when he was looking for you. She told him that you were probably at your locker. Before he went to look for you she told him to tell you that her phone died last period. 

Why were you lying and hiding stuff from him? Damian didn’t want to think it, but were you cheating on him?

Damian looked up from his phone to notice Jon wasn’t there anymore. 

“Where did Jon go?” Damian asked. 

“He said he was going to meet up with ‘a friend’, but it’s obvious he’s meeting with a girl/boy the way he was nervous.” Dick responded

“We should follow him,” Jason spoke up. Damian didn’t know why he was here. Jason wasn’t too fond of staying at the manor. Usually, he would do whatever business he had, get food from Alfred then leave. 

“Sure. Why not” said Tim. Damian forgot he was here. But they all agreed. 

You hated lying to Damian. You decided that when you were going to see him tomorrow, you were going to tell him the truth, everything. You were meeting with Jon to get everything ready to tell Damian everything tomorrow.

Incoming Call: Jon 🦸🏻

You immediately picked up. You were sitting in a booth at yours and damian fav coffee shop. Damian thought that they had these great muffins that tasted even better the day after, so you were going to get him some.

You told Layla about your pregnancy after you told Jon. She was very upset with you. That you didn’t tell her first. 

“I can’t believe it. I mean I can because between both of us, you would have kids and I would be the hot, rich aunt that they love.”

You laughed at her little rant on how your kid would call her “Auntie Lay” and she would bring gifts every time she saw them. How she would have a room for them to crash at her place for when they're a teen and they get mad at you, or they just want to spend time with their auntie. 

“Thank you,” you said as you got up and hugged her “for being here for me. I don't know what I would do without you and Jon”

You were so glad that you had Jon and Layla. 

Jon was walking up to the coffee shop when he saw your call.

“Hey Jon. Layla and I are at the shop, where are you?”

“I’m across the street I’m heading in now.”

Jon didn’t realize the boys were following him. They were confused as to why Jon was at this coffee shop. He had never been there before. 

The boys watched Jon walk in and waited. Eventually, he would come out with whoever he's been secretly meeting up with for weeks. 

Being the type they are, they didn't notice Layla coming out of the shop and getting into her car. She was waiting for you and Jon to go back to your place. 

“He's coming out now,” Dick said excitedly. They all froze in anticipation. What they didn’t expect was to see you walking out after him. 

Damian's heart was breaking. You were secretly meeting up with Jon and cheating on him behind his back. How could you? He kept watch in hopes he was wrong. 

You walked out with a light brown paper bag in hand. You were struggling to seal it without dropping it. That’s when Jon took it from you and sealed it himself. They didn’t have audio but they had visuals. They could say thank you to him.

“Thank you my hero,” you said with a small giggle. Suddenly your face was serious. 

“What if- What if even if Damian accepts this, he won’t regret it later? He won’t think we ruined his life?” 

You started tearing up. From the angle the boys were at they couldn’t see your face. Jon hugged you. 

“Shhh it’s going to be fine.”

“What if he thinks I’m trying to baby trap him and he'll end up hating me?”

You were about to cry when Jon took your face into his hands. You were like the sister he never had. He hated to see you cry. 

“Listen to me. Damian could never hate you. He loves you.”

You nodded and hugged him again. That’s when Damian’s heart truly shattered. 

“I can’t read lips that well but I saw something along the lines of ‘I love you’” Dick said. Damian took off is “disguise”, it was just a hat and sunglasses.

“So she's cheating on me?” Anyone could hear the pain in his voice, even Jon did. 

Jon suddenly let go of you, and turned to look at Damian. He could see the pain written all over his face. Even though mind reading wasn’t a Kryptonian power, he knew what he was thinking: that you were cheating on him with him. 

You were confused. You moved over to see what Jon was looking at. That's when you saw Damian with his brothers. Now he was looking at you.

“Oh no.”

Part 2

So… what do y’all think??? Please let me know.