#i would take that class over and over and over again

[lizardho]

Being at BYU after my mission was weird. Like. Bad weird. Everybody was still acting like missionaries but they had nobody to teach so it all turned into the holier-than-thou bs that missions always degenerate into over time. Just the forced establishment of some weird social hierarchy where value is based on how devout you are, with people digging and scratching and clawing their way around humanity in order to become even more devout.

And this bullshit was actively killing me. The attempts to stay Good Enough were scraping the remnants of my humanity out of my husk like a spoon scraping the last bits of watermelon from a rind - I was doing what I had always done, be Mormon, do what Mormons do, be as good a Mormon as I could be, only it was breaking me. Instead of healing me, making me whole, taking away my burdens, it was pulling the life out of me in exchange for nothing. I was just being squeezed dry of everything I had to offer and being given back shame and isolation and rejection because I didn’t do it first, or fast enough, or with a willing enough heart, or whatever the hell they could come up with.

But despite myself, because most people smarter than me AND dumber than me would have left already, I found myself trying over and over and over again to make it work with no success.

One day, I snap. I’ve had enough. I need answers. I’ve looked everywhere and done everything I could by myself, and nothing had come of it, so I went to talk to a faculty member. A teacher at the school. He taught religion classes and his lessons were powerfully and inspiringly honest, earnest, and filled with raw humanity. I figured if I could get a straight (ha) answer from anyone, it would be that guy. He wasn’t involved in the Mormon rat race. He wasn’t playing the stupid “I’m Worthier Than You” games that were so pernicious on campus. He was being real and open and vulnerable and I needed that from someone.

So I go into his office and I lay my cards on the table. I figure if I’m gonna get helped, I need to be honest. I share with him my weird feelings about dad leaving the church on my mission. About my siblings leaving the church. About my own doubts and hurts. I tell him about how hard it is to be in limbo like this without knowing what to do or where to turn. I tell him I need answers.

And he listens. And then he starts with the usual Mormon apologetics bullshit. And I say “no” because I’m done with that. That doesn’t fly with me anymore. And he sees and hears me say no and he puts a hand on mine, makes direct eye contact, and says,

“You know, you don’t have to go to church, right?”

I, being a person who was hurting, interpreted that as “if you have questions that I can’t answer you should fuck off.” I got defensive immediately and he again listened, put his hand on mine, and said,

“Not what I meant. You can stay if you want, but I want you to know you can leave too. Take a break. Give yourself time to heal. This isn’t supposed to hurt this much, and if it hurts you can take a break and come back when it feels good.”

I’m actually getting choked up just writing that out. Nobody had ever said that to me before. When I talked about my dysphoria to my parents, they said teenagers are supposed to feel like that a little bit. When I talked to people about my difficulties at church they had always told me that it was a sign that church was working. That I was doing it right. That growth was supposed to hurt, that excising the Natural Man from me was supposed to be difficult, that I was supposed to be feeling this anxious and sad and scared. I had never ever ever been told that pain and suffering were signs things were going wrong. I had actually explicitly been told by many many many many many many many many people that it was good, that the hurt and the heartache and the constant feeling of never being good enough and never being able to fit into my own skin or love myself in any meaningful way was desirable. That it was something they envied.

It’s not supposed to hurt. Some things can, and should. My parents were right that some body concerns were normal (although we later found out my specific concerns were more abnormal lmao, I got that tgirl swag). My family and friends were right that challenging myself with difficult assignments and ambitious goals was supposed to feel uncomfortable.

And at the same time, THIS was not supposed to hurt. I was not meant to have this gaping throbbing aching hole in my Me that never let up. It wasn’t supposed to hurt. IT WASN’T SUPPOSED TO HURT.

I don’t know when exactly I started crying, but I was crying the whole rest of the day. It was the first time in a while I had to actually take a Valium to clam down. It wasn’t supposed to hurt.

He also told me that if it ever stopped hurting I could always come back.

I think that was the day I really left. Others might say otherwise, I still tried to make it work for a few more months after that, but the idea that it wasn’t supposed to hurt really changed me.

If any of you are reading this - there are things that are supposed to be difficult. Things that are supposed to hurt. But if your faith or your beliefs about the world or yourself leave you feeling like you’ve been hollowed out at a minor mistake or setback, if your failures and setbacks leave you feeling raw and numb frequently, if the company you keep or the places you stay leave you feeling constantly inadequate with out hope or help, then I’ll tell you the same thing that professor told me:

You can go somewhere else. You can do something else. And you can always come back when you want.

But it’s not supposed to hurt.

[dollfacefantasy]

SNOW ON THE GLASS ♡

pairing: dilf!leon kennedy x fem!reader x milf!ada wong

summary: you love your job as the kennedys nanny. it's fairly easy and pays great. plus you may have a tiny crush on your bosses. but as it turns out, they may reciprocate that feeling more than you know.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, mild dubcon, p in v, oral sex (f receiving), daddy kink, mommy kink, intoxication/intox kink, breeding kink, praise kink, age gap (late 30s, early 20s)

a/n: birthday gift for my wonderful bestie @explorevenus!! i love you so so much <3 also also also, imagine them both at their re6 ages, i just couldn't find any pics of re6 ada i liked sue me 😔

Little white flakes of snow landed one after another on the clear pane of glass in front of your face. You chewed your bottom lip while watching the flurries compile on the window, and in-turn, your car parked in the driveway.

Behind you, a pair of sharp heels clacked against the tile floor as the owner of said driveway returned to the room. Ada stepped through the archway and down the half-step to approach you by the front door. Laying a gentle hand on your shoulder, she smiled when you turned to look at her.

“Here’s your check, sweetheart,” she said, bringing a small rectangular paper to brush against your fingertips.

“Thank you,” you replied as you took it from her. Your eyes immediately made their way back to the storm outside that grew worse by the second.

She followed your gaze, her palm staying in place on your shoulder. Unlike you, Ada’s face remained composed. She wasn’t worried in the slightest. She’d known this storm was coming. It was an integral part of her plan for tonight.

But despite her internal calmness, she furrowed her dark brows and injected some worry into her tone.

“It’s getting bad out there. That snow is just piling up,” she proclaimed, “There’s no way you should be driving in weather like that.”

Reluctantly, you nodded. Your thoughts had been reaching the same conclusion. You were just hesitant to voice them because after a long day of work, you yearned for the comfort of your apartment. It was finally the weekend, and your plush bed and soft sheets called to you. You’d been dreaming of the quiet between those walls all day. The privacy to do whatever you wanted that you didn’t have when you were here for most hours of the week. 

Make no mistake, you loved your job as the Kennedys full-time nanny, but regardless of your enjoyment, it was still work that required a lot of attention and labor. Their daughter was the sweetest child you’d ever met; however, carting her to and from dance class and kindergarten along with making her food, playing with her, and putting her down for naps piled up on you.

“Maybe if I leave now, I can make it…” you thought aloud.

“Oh please. Honey, you live across town. You’d have to take the highway, and people drive crazy as is. I should know, my husband is one of them,” she joked.

Your brows raised at the mention of Leon. You hadn’t even thought about how your other employer would get home tonight. You looked over your shoulder at her again. “Do you think he’ll be ok? It’s coming down really hard out there,” you said.

“Oh he’ll be fine,” she waved off, “His friend is giving him a ride home tonight. I’m sure they’ll make it in one piece.”

Releasing a small breath of relief, you nodded again.

“It’s really no problem if you stay,” she continued, “We have the guest room all set up. It has a bathroom attached, so you’d have total privacy. And I wouldn’t make you watch Christina or anything if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Oh no,” you reassured, “It’s not that, don’t worry. I just don’t want to be a burden on you and Mr. Kennedy.”

“You’re never a burden on us. With all you do for Christina, you’re practically part of the family. I wouldn’t want you driving off and getting into an accident just because you didn’t want to impose. I’m sure you know that we have more than enough space in this house,” she said and ran her hand over your bicep down to your wrist. Her manicured nails scraped over your skin, eliciting a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

You felt a simmer of heat in your chest upon hearing those kind words coming from her painted lips. That combined with the teasing touch had your heart pumping a little faster in your chest. It was something you rarely thought about, but maybe, just maybe, a tiny part of why you enjoyed this job so much was because both of your employers looked like reoccuring stars in people’s wet dreams all over the world.

“Thank you. I would really appreciate it,” you answered, your prior trepidation dissolving under the heat of her gaze. You slid your check into your purse and then placed the bag back down on the end table by the door.

She smirked, though she tried to make it appear as an earnest smile. Of course, Ada sensed the little crush you had on her and her husband. It wasn’t hard to tell given the way you preened in the face of the slightest of compliments or gave them the look a puppy would give its owner whenever they praised you for your hard work.

“Great,” she said, “Come with me. I’ll put on some dinner. We’ll get you fed and then I’ll show you to your room and be out of your hair for the night.”

Her slender fingers clasped around your hand, guiding you back through that archway and towards the kitchen. The two of you passed by a few family portraits and expensive paintings before reaching your destination - the luxurious kitchen that probably held a value higher than all the money you’d made in your life.

You could fit about six of your kitchens in this one. That would be another nice thing about staying here for the night, getting to use the high end items they had stocked rather than the odds and ends you owned.

She led you across the gray marble floors over to the spacious island, all but sitting you down on one of the stools.

“You just relax for a few minutes, and I’ll work on the food,” she said.

You took your seat, not willing to protest her hospitality further. Your eyes scanned around the kitchen you’d become so familiar with over the last year. She walked into the pantry for a couple seconds, returning with a box and some small containers before setting them on the counter.

“You like pasta?” she asked.

“Who doesn’t?” you responded.

She let out a small laugh at that. “No wonder Leon likes you so much. A girl after his own heart.”

Your heart fluttered at the idea that Mr. Kennedy liked you. Before hearing that, you didn’t suspect he had any problems with you. In fact, he let you know all the time that he was pleased with your performance and couldn’t ask for anyone better to take care of Christina. But appreciating you and liking you were two separate things, the latter of which gave you that warm feeling in your stomach.

In the corner of the counters, Ada bent down to grab a pot. Your eyes went with her, dragging along her figure to where her form-fitting black slacks covered the swell of her ass. As soon as you realized you were staring, you averted your gaze. You pushed out any further thoughts about how her red blouse was probably unbuttoned at the top, allowing a clear view of her breasts down the front of the shirt.

She stood back up with the pot in hand and filled it with some water. Tapping the electric stove to life, she put it on to boil. You watched as she poured some oil in the water and then grabbed a pan to put on for what you assumed would be the sauce.

With both pieces heating up, she moved to the cabinets up above. She reached for the one next to the section that held all of Christina’s dishes, her sippy cups and princess plates. The cupboard you took from most of the time you were here.

Instead of grabbing a Little Mermaid themed piece of tupperware, her hand retrieved two wine glasses. She spun around to face you and brought the fragile items over to the island. After placing them in front of you, she stepped into a nearby alcove, the place you knew they kept all the liquor.

She came back with a nice bottle, something more rich than you’d ever drink on your own. Popping it open, she went to pour, but you interrupted.

“I don’t really need any,” you said with a timid smile.

While you weren’t a prude about drinking under other circumstances, Ada was still your boss. Being under any kind of influence around her held a risk you didn’t find worth taking.

She just smirked at you though, not making any effort to conceal it this time.

“C’mon, loosen up a bit,” she coaxed, “You’re not on the clock. You’ve been working all week, even later today since I was late. Take it as my apology.”

“You don’t have to apologize. You paid me for the overtime,” you replied.

“Still. Keeping you longer than expected on short notice is inconsiderate,” she said. 

She rounded the counter with the bottle and your glass in hand. Upon reaching you, she set the glass down directly in front of you with the bottle beside it. The proximity left no room for hesitation. One of her hands came up, brushing across the back of your neck to rest on your shoulder like it had earlier.

“You’re not saying no because you think this is some sort of test, do you? Because I wouldn’t bother with something like that, sweetheart. I was young once too,” she told you. You swore she was leaning in closer as her voice became more of a purr next to your ear, but you didn’t dare look. “I know how good a drink can feel after a long week. You’re human. My husband and I don’t expect you to be a child-friendly saint even when you’re not working,” she continued.

Her fingers rubbed miniscule circles on the cloth of your top. You still didn’t think it was the best idea to drink around your boss, but Ada had never given you a reason not to trust her. It was quite the opposite. Most days, the Kennedys seemed too good to be true.

You knew they were human. Occasionally while speaking to you, they’d slip in a jab about the other or allude to some sort of marital problem that sprouted up after years of being together. They’d make mistakes like coming home late or forgetting to tell you that Christina’s dance lesson had been canceled until you were already on the way there.

But when it came to their relationships with you, they were absolute dreams. They gave you expensive gifts for your birthday and Christmas. Paid you above what was the standard for nannies in this area. Talked to you like someone they were interested in rather than a person they were forced to interact with. And hell, now they were offering up their home to you when you needed it.

“Alright. If it’s ok with you,” you agreed.

“That’s what I like to hear,” she said and tilted the bottle towards your glass.

Deep red liquid spilled into the curved dish. She wasn’t shy with how much she gave you, that was for sure. You could already smell that heady aroma swirling around the air.

“You can have as much as you’d like. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you, we want you to feel at home here with us,” she said.

Before she walked away, her hand swept down your back, stroking it with a domineering, almost maternal sort of affection. It sent another round of chills through your body. You reached for the wine glass and gripped the stem hard. It was probably for the best that she and her husband weren’t actually around for most of your work here if this was how you reacted to a simple touch.

You brought the glass to your lips and sipped some of the liquid as she poured her own. After taking down some of the drink to numb your responsive nerves, you set it down again. You didn’t want to over-indulge.

“I really do feel at home here. I wasn’t saying no because I’m not comfortable with you. I just really care about what you and Mr. Kennedy think of me. I wouldn’t want you thinking you hired someone irresponsible to watch over your daughter,” you explained. What was left unspoken was that you didn’t want either of them thinking you were trashy in your own right either.

She nodded and stirred the bubbling sauce on the stove. She had to stop herself from saying I know. “That’s good. But you don’t need to worry so much. Both me and my husband think very highly of you,” she said instead.

A rush coursed through you upon hearing that. You smiled and raised your glass again, ingesting some more of the intoxicating liquid.

She watched out of the corner of her eye. It was a struggle to keep quiet and not fawn over how adorable you looked when you got all giddy. She kept her attention on dinner though, adding the noodles when the water reached a boil and spicing the sauce.

There was nothing she needed to say right now. She’d just be quiet and let you nurse that drink. It wasn’t that she needed the alcohol for what she wanted to do tonight. She could probably seduce you right now without much effort if she so desired. But tonight had been well-planned out, and for all the effort she put into it, she was gonna get everything she wanted out of it.

Ada had wanted you since the day they hired you. She could still remember the cute little outfit you wore on that Sunday you showed up for your interview. A nice plaid skirt with a dark sweater up top. Objectively modest but still attractive enough to garner attention. You’d been so polite, sitting with your ankles crossed and perfect posture. She could tell you were fighting off nerves with each answer you gave her and Leon. You were only the second candidate they’d met with, but Ada dismissed any other option before you’d even said your goodbyes.

That craving for you only became more intense over the last month or so. She’d had enough of coming home to you passed out on the couch, all sprawled out and vulnerable but not being able to take advantage. She was sick of only feeling grazes of the silken nature of your skin as she caught you before and after your shift.

That was why she calculated everything for tonight down to the minute. It would go off without a hitch. This wasn’t one of Leon’s missions that stumbled along and almost collapsed at multiple points before barely reaching the correct target. No, she’d thought this through.

By the end of the night, she would have you in the palms of her and Leon’s hands. She’d known this snow storm was coming, and she’d intentionally stayed a little later at work so that she’d be home by the time it was already raging outside and you’d put Christina to bed. She’d have the guest room for you, but you wouldn’t have any of your own belongings, which meant she’d have chances to lure you into her territory. She’d get you all peaceful and pliant by giving you a nice dinner and a fair amount of drinks. Everything would play out just like she intended it to.

She longed to see you at a baser state without any of your usual modesty impeding on your desires. She wanted you all giggling and cute, falling into her arms and spreading your legs without even being asked. You would love it. She just had to show you that.

She hummed to herself at a low volume while finishing up the food. Combining the curled pasta with the creamy sauce, she scooped two helpings onto each plate and made her way over to you with the dishes.

The two of you sat at the island, eating and drinking and talking. The conversation started on Christina but moved around to your personal life and her job among other subjects. She made sure to top off your wine whenever it got close to being empty.

“I know this job must keep you pretty busy, but do you do anything outside of it?” she eventually asked, “Maybe school or some other interests taking up your time?”

“Um… well,” you answered, “I tried out school for a while, and it wasn’t really the best fit for me… I messed around with some other things, and you know how that goes.”

A little laugh slipped from your lips. Your words were definitely more free-flowing than usual.

“Well there’s nothing wrong with taking things day by day,” she replied with a warm smile. She took a sip of her own drink before continuing her point. “You’re still young. You could stumble on something you don’t even know about right now.”

“Exactly!” you responded, all too excited to have someone agree with you, “That’s exactly how I feel. Like you know, this job. I feel like I won the lottery with you guys most days I’m here.”

“That makes me so happy to hear,” she said.

“It’s the truth. Ugh, the kids I babysat in high school were nightmares. And their parents barely paid me anything. I wasn’t even allowed to eat the food at the house. It was horrible. But you guys, you’re perfect I swear. Christina is so sweet and funny and smart. And this house is great. And you and Mr. Kennedy, you two… you’re like dreams,” you rambled.

“Really?” she asked with mild amusement. She set her drink down and leaned forward on her forearms.

The way your eyes widened and your lips parted, you looked like a little fish upon realizing how your last statement sounded. “I just mean you guys are like so great to work for. My favorite job I’ve ever had for sure,” you added.

She reached out, laying her smooth hand on your wrist. “That’s so sweet of you, honey. You’re great to have around too. Much better than our last nanny,” she said, “She always had some complaint about something, and her hours never ended up being consistent. Plus, she wasn’t as cute as you.”

The statement struck you like a bolt of lightning. You were sure your eyes widened to the size of gold medals. Heat oozed up from your chest into your face. This honestly felt like a dream. In reality, you were supposed to think your boss was hot. You were supposed to thirst after them, pine for moments of reciprocation that would never actually happen. But one just did.

“Oh, thank you,” you shrugged, an involuntary smile pulling at your mouth.

A low, knowing laugh echoed from her without her lips ever breaking that calculated smile. Ada’s rich eyes stayed on yours, not letting you get a reprieve from eye contact that lasted longer than a handful of seconds. Her fingertips massaged little circles onto your wrist as you spoke. The light touches felt like the tips of sparklers against your skin. Each one sent tingling warmth up your arm down to your belly.

“Oh come on, don’t look so nervous,” she said, “You must get compliments like that all the time. You’re a very pretty girl.”

Again, you shrugged. “I guess,” you answered. The weight of her attention pressed on you, causing your gaze to lower to your lap.

She didn’t let you get away though. One of her hands ventured up to cup your jaw and pull your face upright. Her fingers lingered there as she stared at you. The curled, the flat backs of her knuckles smoothing across your cheek.

“Do you have a boyfriend? Or a girlfriend?” she asked.

Your pulse thundered in your ears. You shook your head no.

She hummed in response. Her fingers continued exploring the expanse of your cheek before dropping to lie on your shoulder.

“That’s good. No need to tie yourself to one person at your age. Though you do deserve someone to take care of you,” she said.

That dull heat in your stomach had long outgrown something so mild. It festered into full arousal by this point, a need hot and pulsating between your thighs. You bit your lip. It was all you could do to keep yourself from squirming in an attempt to grind on the stool.

“I can take care of myself,” you said, though the tone of your voice alone called the truth of that claim into question.

She laughed softly, the sound light and condescending. Her hand glided back and forth along your shoulder in short strokes.

“I’m sure you can, sweet girl. But you shouldn’t have to. You spend all week caring for someone else. You deserve to relax in your free time and have someone take over,” she said.

A visible shiver ran through you. Your teeth dug into the inside of your lip harder as you looked at her now.

“That does sound kind of nice,” you agreed.

She nodded along and brought her hand back to your face. One set of her nails lightly scraped along the frame of it, trailing down after to stroke your jaw. The sensation was enough to make your eyes flutter and send another small burst of desire through you.

“Of course it does,” she said, “You work so hard. You shouldn’t have to go home and cook or do dishes or laundry. You’re probably so tired by the time you get there.”

A hazy sigh puffed out from your mouth. “Yeah sometimes,” you confirmed.

“Mhm. Poor baby,” she cooed, “Someone should be there, letting you rest, doting on you like the precious thing you are.”

Now you felt as though you were glowing. Your breaths came in deep, lifting your chest up and down with each breath. A lazy, blissful smile sat on your features as your dreamy gaze fixated on her. Everything really was starting to feel like a dream. If you weren’t so captivated, you might have tried pinching yourself.

She chuckled at the expression before standing up. Her palms swept down to your shoulders again.

“You look tired, honey. We should probably get you some clothes to sleep in and then send you off to bed,” she said.

“Sounds good to me,” you said and started to rise from the stool yourself.

“Perfect. Just finish this off for me, sweetheart,” she said and lifted your glass to your hand again. It was nearly empty, but it couldn’t hurt having you drink a few drops more.

Denying her didn’t even occur to you in this condition. You brought the drink to your lips and swallowed the remainder while she cleared the counter of other dishes. 

In the blink of an eye, she was back at your side. One of her arms slipped around your waist while the other held your shoulder.

“Good girl,” she praised, “Come with me.”

Again, you followed the order without a trace of resistance. You walked alongside her down the path you had come. This time around you leaned into her for support. Your head felt cloudy. A sense of dizziness pervaded every movement you made. She watched with pure satisfaction as she led you to the hall.

“There you go. We’re almost there,” she cooed as if you didn’t know the layout of the house.

You passed the front door and turned into the area that held the doors to one of the bathrooms and the office space. At the end of the small corridor, she opened up the double doors that led into her and Leon’s room. Despite being here five days a week, you rarely ever went in here. You could use one hand to count the number of occasions in which you ever needed to cross this threshold.

The decor was much darker than the rest of the house. Shades of gray morphed into dark black in here. Obsidian drapes framed the window, separated at the moment to let the moon shine through. All the furniture was crafted in deep tones of wood. The rug sprawled across the floor was nearly pitch black, spare the thin red designs sewn throughout.

You took it all in as if it was brand new to you. She paid your curiosity no mind and sat you down on the edge of her bed.

“Stay here for me. I’ll go find you something that fits you,” she said, running her hand over your head as if you were a prized pet.

You obeyed like one, not moving as she stepped away and into the walk in closet in the corner of the room. Your palms spread out on the bedding. The plush comforter tickled your fingers. It had to be one of the softest things you’d ever felt. Much different than the ratty old throw blankets you had on your bed back home.

A sigh seeped from your lips, and you found yourself laying back against the luxurious surface. You spread your arms out as though you were making angel wings in the snow outside. What would it be like to come home to this every night? To work hard all day and then be able to really relax in a place like this? To unwind with each one of your bosses at your side tending to you?

As these thoughts danced through your mind, you felt a hand grasp your thigh. You popped your head up to find Ada before you again, a couple pieces of clothing draped over her arm.

“Don’t fall asleep on me yet,” she teased.

“I wasn’t. Sorry. Your bed is just like really comfy,” you said with a small giggle as you sat up.

“Isn’t it? We just got this one last year. Leon loved our old one, but I just find this one so much easier to sink into,” she agreed.

“Mhm. For sure,” you said, nodding your head up and down with too much enthusiasm for the subject.

That didn’t matter though. Ada didn’t think she could find one thing wrong with you right now if she tried. Beside you, she laid out the few things she’d taken from the closet.

“I wasn’t really sure what type of clothes you liked to sleep in or what you would fit so I brought a few for you to choose from,” she said.

With a gentle hand, she directed your attention to the outfits on the mattress. There were two, and they looked like night and day. Two opposites with no neutral middle. 

The one on the left consisted of a small black camisole, one that had to belong to Ada. A pair of silky, navy blue shorts sat with them, another find from her side of the wardrobe. Next to those two was a large gray sweatshirt and some flannel pajama pants, probably her husband’s if you had to guess.

Your eyes lingered on each. It appeared as though you were taking your time to decide, but really you just couldn’t stop trying to picture the clothing on their owners’ bodies. You imagined Ada’s soft curves covered by the thin cloth, her smooth thighs emerging from the shiny fabric of the shorts. Images of Leon flickered in your head too, the sleeves of that shirt rolled up to his elbows and leaving his forearms exposed. The plaid pajama pants hanging low on his hips and giving you a nice view of his v-line.

While you stared at your options, she angled herself behind you, lifting one knee onto the bed. Her hands landed upon your shoulders to gently massage.

“Pick whatever you want. It’s totally up to you. You can take one or the other or combine the two. Maybe layer a bit since it’s so cold,” she whispered. She had leaned in right next to your ear. Her lips brushed your skin with every word.

It took everything you had not to whimper for more from her. Under normal circumstances, you would be squirming out of your skin, stuttering and awkwardly trying to justify her affection for you. But right now, you leaned back into it, letting the warmth flow through you.

She smiled and snaked her arms around your body, holding you tight against her. “I’ll have to buy you some clothes to keep here in case this ever happens again. We’ll keep a cute little wardrobe for you in the guest room, so you can stay whenever you like,” she added.

That pulled another giggle out of you along with growing the lazy smile on your face. “I’ll take both of these,” you finally decided and pulled the two tops toward yourself. You messily bundled both pieces into your lap.

“Great. But you still need some pants, sweetheart,” she teased.

“But I don’t like sleeping in pants,” you said and looked up at her with earnest eyes.

She reveled in your thoughtless confession but played it cool. “Are you sure? The bed upstairs has a lot of blankets and the heat should be on, but I wouldn’t want you getting cold,” she offered.

You shook your head. “I’ll be ok, but thank you,” you answered.

Standing up, you swayed on your feet a little. She rose from the bed herself and moved the rejected pairs of pants to the dresser nearby. When she turned to you and caught the wobbly nature of your stance, she moved in like a viper through tall grass and grabbed you by the elbow.

“Why don’t you just change in here? You know that way if you don’t like anything you won’t have to stumble up and down the stairs. Plus you can just leave your clothes here, and I’ll put them in the wash in the morning,” she said, making the offer as if it was based on a genuine desire to help you.

You blinked at her. “Like… change in here? In the bedroom?” you checked.

She nodded, her fingers gliding up your arm. “Mhm. We’re both girls, honey. No need to be shy. I’ll even turn around if you want me to,” she said in a way that somehow soothed you and set your whole body on fire.

You felt like a fireworks show was going off in your stomach. The adrenaline rushing through your veins made you light-headed, and the wine probably didn’t help. You couldn’t think of a reason to say no.

“Alright,” you agreed with a heavy breath.

“Good girl,” she praised with a squeeze to your shoulder.

You felt your clit throb between your legs. At this point, you knew you’d probably have to rub one out as soon as you reached the privacy of the guest room.

Turning around, you dropped the two shirts back on the bed. Without much hesitation, you started to undress. Your shirt was first to go. You tucked your fingers beneath the hem and peeled it off.

Ada’s gaze focused completely on you as she saw the soft skin of your back completely exposed. This was the most important part of the night. If she messed up here, all of it would have been for nothing. She hadn’t planned out every minute movement she would make, but she could think on her feet. This would work.

She headed over near the closet entrance again but didn’t venture inside. She stood right outside in front of the full length mirror, a seemingly reasonable position where she was sure you’d be able to see her if you turned around.

Bending down, she unbuckled her heels and then kicked them to the side. She undid her slacks next and shimmied them off to pool around her ankles.

You heard the rustling of the fabric and the clicks of unfastening. It didn’t register in your mind what they would be coming from until you glanced over your shoulder and spotted her. Your jaw fell open while your eyes bulged from their sockets. You were pretty sure you stopped breathing in the middle of removing your bra.

She stood there as if nothing about this was odd. Her fingers worked on undoing the buttons on her blouse, parting the two sides and revealing a sliver of her skin. Her legs were already out in the open, all for your eyes to see.

In the reflection of the mirror in front of her, she caught your wide-eyed stare. She spun around to face you head on. She unhooked the last button. Her shirt fell open, allowing you to see her flesh from her navel to her collar bone. Underneath the blouse, she still had on a lacy bra and matching panties.

Not missing a beat, she just chuckled and walked closer. “Did you get stuck, honey? Need some help?” she asked.

She approached your frozen form and brought her hands to your shoulders where your bra straps sat. Using her nimble fingers, she guided the thin pieces down your arms. The entire garment fell away and dropped to the floor in front of you.

“There you go. Let mommy help you,” she whispered.

This time you actually couldn’t tell if the words were real or imagined. They’d been so hushed, so faint, but you would swear on anything that you felt them fan over your neck.

She moved to your jeans next, flicking the button open and tugging the zipper loose. The denim crumpled under the force of her hands shoving them down. You stepped out of each pant leg before she kicked them aside along with your bra.

Her hands came to rest on your hips for a moment before gliding up your sides. They smoothed over your curves like streams of warm water. You felt the gentle pressure move from your sides around to your tummy. She was only teasing you right now. Her touches felt good, but they didn’t explore anywhere that would give you true pleasure.

“You have such soft skin,” she cooed.

“Thank you,” you hummed, preening under her touch.

“So tender and pretty. Perfectly smooth,” she whispered.

You were already melting under her hands, but she knew she could go further. She ducked in and kissed your neck. You moaned at the feeling, at her hot mouth latching onto your skin. She laid a few more there after to follow.

“Mmm, so sweet too,” she hummed.

You whimpered and let your head fall back onto her shoulder, leaving more of your neck accessible to her lips. She took advantage. Leaning in, she licked a stripe over your pulse and followed the trail of saliva with a series of kisses. Her teeth scraped across the sensitive flesh.

“A-ada…” you sighed.

“I’m right here, sweet baby,” she purred, “Does that feel good?”

“Mhm,” you whimpered.

“I bet it does. You’re so sensitive, aren’t you? Jumping under every touch. I was like that at your age too,” she teased.

Her hands broke the little patterns they’d been tracing into your stomach to float upward. One by one they each landed on your breasts. Her palms cupped the mounds and gave them a gentle squeeze.

“You have such a gorgeous body,” she said as she nuzzled the space behind your ear, “You’re so shy. So precious. Running around my house like a skittish little puppy.”

No words of protest or denial made their way out of you. It felt good to bask in her attention, to know that she saw you as something so delicate.

“I think I’m starting to understand why though,” she teased.

Her fingers went to your pebbled nipples, pulling and tweaking the sensitive nubs. You mewled and squirmed in her grasp.

“Mommy,” you whined, not caring if she had actually been the one to say it first.

“Mhm. Look at you, already calling me mommy. You were thinking about this, weren’t you baby? You’ve been wanting mommy to take care of you?”

“Yeah,” you admitted, not being coy about it.

She grinned against your neck before turning you around. Once you could see her, she displayed a much more seductive expression. “Let mommy take care of you then,” she said.

With caring hands, she guided you onto the bed and laid you against a mountain of the pillows near the headboard. She crawled above you, looking down at you like a panther that had just caught its next meal.

“Let me have a taste of those lips. See if they're as soft as the rest of you,” she murmured before lowering herself.

She connected her mouth to yours. Her lips engulfed your own in a kiss, her tongue teasing you. You reciprocated. Your lips parted as you moaned, granting her access. She didn’t waste any time. Her breaths came out heavier as she focused herself entirely on you.

As her mouth worked on you above, her hands continued roaming your body below. She groped your hips and explored your thighs. You gasped softly at the mix of sensations, rolling your hips up against nothing.

“So impatient, baby,” she breathed as she pulled back, “You act like such a good girl all the time, but I bet that leaves you so desperate, huh?”

“Mhm,” you whimpered.

She nodded and moved down to your neck again. Her mouth trailed over the skin with little pecks and soft sucks. The idea of leaving marks tempted her, but that could come later. She didn’t intend on this being her only time with you.

You felt her kisses migrate across your throat to your collarbone and down to the valley between your breasts. Her tongue played there for a moment, drawing out the moments before she would give you your first real taste of relief.

“Mommy, please,” you tried, eyes fluttering.

“So demanding,” she cooed. She moved her mouth to the right though and wrapped her lips around your nipple.

You arched your back off the bed and breathed out a whiny sigh. The tip of her tongue swirled around the bud. She laved at it, applying the perfect amount of pressure to get you squirming. Her hands massaged your waist in the meantime. She would make sure you felt good all over.

Your legs shifted around at the tingling building between your thighs. You craved some friction so badly, but she was still fixated on your chest. Her mouth released your nipple and planted one more kiss on it before she moved to the other and gave it the same treatment.

It got the same pleasured reaction out of you that only increased when one of her hands came up to toy with the sensitive peak that already experienced her mouth. You mewled without shame, digging her heels into the mattress.

She finally let it go as she had the other one, with a wet pop. Her eyes flitted up to you, taking in your breathless expression. After a couple seconds, she started kissing down your belly. She scooted herself down between your legs.

“You’re so needy,” she cooed, “No one’s taken care of you in so long. It’s left you aching.”

Her fingers ghosted over your thin panties, the ribbed fabric nowhere near as luxurious as hers. You watched her eyes follow her hands. The dark irises locked on your center. Her thumb traced the length of your cunt, grazing over your clit down to your leaking entrance. A nice wet patch began forming on the seat of your panties.

“That’s ok though. No one else could take care of you like mommy can. You’d be wasting your time.”

Your eyelids felt heavy as you watched her tug your panties off, drooping with the weight of your lust. You felt the cool air hit the glistening folds between your legs as soon as your lower half was free of the thin covering.

“So wet for me already,” she said, “That’s my good girl. Always so eager to please.”

She didn’t waste time teasing. Why would she? After months of coveting, she finally had you within her grasp, ready for the taking. She gripped your thighs and dove in, flattening her tongue against your soaked core. With a broad stroke, her tongue dragged over the slick flesh.

You mewled in response. A soft gasp accompanied the sound. She spotted your fingers gripping the bedding. So responsive from the simplest of touches. You were going to be fun.

She attacked your clit next. First, she treated it with little flicks of her tongue. Quick and repetitive, it stroked the tiny bud until you let out a pretty whine. She then latched her lips on, sucking on your pulsing bundle of nerves.

All the thoughts in your head melted away. The only thing you could do at this point was babble out a small collection of words including “mommy” and “please more.”

She got into it. All her focus trained on you. This was what she had been dreaming of for a year after all. Ever since she saw you in that little plaid skirt. She’d have to have you wear it again one of these days so she could eat you out under it.

Your thighs squeezed around her head as she lapped at your entrance. It felt good, a more dull kind of bliss than what she’d brought you before, but still good. She didn’t mind the pressure from your legs. Her nails dug into your tender flesh and kept you right in place to continue on with her task.

You trembled and twitched with the ecstasy coursing through you. Your eyes rolled back, your vision going out for a second. It felt as though your head was engulfed by drowsy clouds straight from the heavens. The few people you had been with before never made you feel like this.

Your head had lolled back for a moment in the throes of carnal pleasure. When your vision started to return, you brought it back up to look at her again. Only she didn’t catch your attention this time.

Instead your pupils landed on the shadowy figure at the double doors you had entered through.

You practically jumped out of your skin before you realized who it was. She felt you startle and briefly looked over her shoulder before returning her attention to your pussy. The person stepped forward, allowing moonlight to cast over their figure and show their face.

Leon.

“It sounds like you broke her already,” he said as he approached the bed. Making his way to your pair, he ended up standing beside you. His eyes scanned over your nude body, drinking in every inch of your figure.

“I told you I’d have her nice and warmed up by the time you came home,” she replied, shooting him a smile from the crux of your thighs.

Their words flew over your head. You couldn’t really hear them with how fast your heart was beating. God, how could you have been so stupid? You totally forgot about Leon until this very moment. Apparently, a few drinks was all it took to let your pussy take control. All you had been thinking about for the last half hour was how badly you wanted Ada, how beautiful she looked laying in front of you, devouring you whole. The fact that she was married with a husband completely slipped your mind.

“Mr. Kennedy, I’m so sorry. I- um- We just-” you stammered, incapable of coming up with any sort of defense for your actions.

But he didn’t look mad. He sat down beside your shoulder, gazing down at you with some sort of affection in his eyes.

“I think I’ve told you before that I prefer when you call me Leon, sweetheart,” he told you, petting your head.

Biting your lip, you leaned into the touch. Your eyes looked so sweet gazing up at him as you did. He felt his blood beginning to flow South in response. His hand continued stroking over your scalp before moving to your shoulder, feeling your soft skin beneath his fingers.

“She’s been such a good girl for mommy,” Ada praised from below before rubbing your clit rapidly with her middle and index finger. The quick motion drew a whiny moan from you, only adding to Leon’s arousal.

His eyes flicked between you and his wife. “You didn’t give her too much to drink, did you?” he asked.

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. “She only had a few. What do you take me for?”

“Well she looks a little out of it. I just thought I’d check. My mistake,” he said, rubbing your cheek with his thumb absentmindedly.

She laughed softly at that. “You know I’m good with my mouth, darling. I don’t need any help getting her to look like that.”

You whimpered as she reattached her mouth to your cunt. Turning your head, you squished your face against his thigh. Your hips bucked. You could feel your release building up, the urge to let go flourishing inside you. Your noises became more high pitched, more needy. He looked down at you with something resembling curiosity with a trace of adoration.

“That feel good, baby? Not too much for you?” he asked.

“N- no, feels- mmph! Feels good,” you choked out between labored breaths. The hand closer to him flew up to grab at his thigh. Your digits dug into the material of his pants as another whine erupted from you.

He swapped his leg for his hand, letting you squeeze his palm as hard as you wanted.

“That’s it. Good girl. Hold daddy’s hand. I’ve got you,” he hummed.

Ada let her hand take over again and brought her head up to watch the two of you.

“Are you close, honey?” she asked.

“Mhm,” you responded instantly.

“Good. I want you to cum for me, ok? Cum for mommy and daddy. We’re gonna get you all nice and wet before you take daddy’s cock,” she said with the sweetest smile on her face in contrast to her dirty words.

You jolted at the prospect. A sharp breath tore through you right before your orgasm did. Your body shook and convulsed, arching and rolling as if you were possessed. Vaguely, you could hear both of their voices. You couldn’t make out the exact words, but the tones were that of praise.

The world around you faded away as you came on her fingers. Your chest puffed up and down with heavy breaths, and your head went limp against Leon’s leg.

Moments later as you began to come down, you felt him shift your weight onto the pillows. His presence receded and more hushed words filled the room. You heard fabric crinkling and a belt hitting the floor.

The mattress dipped as he climbed back on. Your eyes cracked open in time to see him kneeling between your legs. His hands rested on your bent knees, fingers caressing your skin. 

Your eyes swept over one of the bodies you’d been imagining in recent months. You could see the few veins that marked his forearms and biceps. He was still muscular despite getting older, but he had begun to fill out a little with some softer flesh. Brown hair dusted the skin from his navel down to a thicker patch of it at the base of his cock.

Meanwhile, Ada landed by your side. You took a breath, and her scent overwhelmed you in place of Leon’s. Her curves pressed up against you. Your head rested against the cushion of her breasts while you could feel the smoothness of her belly against your arm.

She kissed the crown of your head, nestling her nose against your hair. “You ready for daddy, baby? I know he’s ready for you,” she whispered.

You nodded, watching Leon as he gave his cock a few tugs. His eyes remained soft even in the midst of his desire.

While Leon wasn’t the one who’d hatched this plan to get you here, that didn’t mean he was oblivious to your beauty. There was a reason he’d agreed to this in the first place. He’d become just as enamored with you in the same time his wife did. He couldn’t help it. Even though he knew it was such a cliche at his age, he couldn’t stop himself from lusting after the babysitter.

He was only human. It was only natural for his eyes to linger on your waist when you squatted down to say goodbye to his daughter. The flutter in his stomach when you hugged him from the side a few times was just a matter of instinct. It wasn’t his fault the sound of your laughter nearly had him drooling or that the sight of you carrying his child to the car made him weak in the knees.

At least that’s what he told himself. That it was just a harmless crush. Something he’d never act on or get to experience anywhere other than the little scenarios that played in his head while he jerked off in the shower.

But then he found out his wife had an interest in you too. Your name came up during an intimate moment of their own. Between kisses, Ada asked him what he thought of you. He had pulled back, confused by the sudden question (and slightly nervous that he’d have to discuss you while already half-hard).

“Uh… she’s good. Christina likes her. She’s sweet, responsible, hardworking. Little shy, but I’m sure that’s just when we’re around,” he’d shrugged.

“Not like that,” she’d rolled her eyes and leaned back in to kiss his neck, “What do you think of her? She’s young, pretty, looks at you like you hung the stars. Don’t tell me you’ve never had a little babysitter fantasy before, darling.”

At first he’d thought it was a test. He denied it, proclaiming that was wrong. He only had interest in his wife, and you were just trying to do your job. The fact that you were easy on the eyes meant nothing to him. He didn’t care about your sparkling eyes or soft lips or nice curves. He didn’t notice the sweet sound of your voice or any of your cute little mannerisms. Pffft. No way.

“That’s a shame. Because I think she’s beautiful. She’s just so sweet and cute, and she doesn’t even know. The only place she could look any better is lying between us. And you know she’d be so sensitive to every little touch. She’d whimper like a little puppy,” she whispered against his skin.

In that moment, all his guilt had zapped away. He groaned at her words, accepting them without hesitation. There was no jealousy on his end, absolutely no discomfort at the idea of his wife lusting for someone else. Not when that someone else was you.

Because it meant that he got to have you like he did right now, spread out before him all blissed out and pretty. He guided his length to your entrance and dragged the tip over your folds. It glided through your wetness, nudging your clit before falling back down.

“You sure you’re ready, princess?” he asked.

“Mhm. Pretty please,” you affirmed, natural puppy dog eyes on display.

“Look at you. So polite,” he mumbled.

He prodded the head at your entrance, popping it inside. For a few moments, that was all that entered you. He let you adjust to the intrusion and let himself get used to the vise-like clamp of your velvety walls. The few seconds were necessary if he didn’t want to humiliate himself by blowing his load in less than a minute.

After that time though, he began easing it inside of you inch by inch. You whined at the light stretch. Ada stroked your arm with one hand and caressed the swell of your breasts with the other.

“That’s right, honey. You’re taking him so well,” she crooned.

“Fuck, she’s tight,” Leon grunted.

Ada grinned at that before looking at you again. “Are you squeezing daddy nice and tight? Showing him where to go?” she teased.

You moaned and nodded while Leon groaned and shut his eyes. Ada kissed your cheek as her husband bottomed out. Her hand fell to your stomach, rubbing over it. He leaned forward. His palm pressed down next to you on the mattress to keep his balance. He hovered above you, blue eyes looking down with lidded awe.

Pulling his hips back, he rocked them forward again right after. He dragged his pelvis away and then brought it right back, flush against your core. You whimpered with each movement. The satisfying slide sent warmth through you each time.

“Atta girl. Taking it so well, just like mommy said,” he mumbled.

Now he pumped his hips with more dedication. He increased his speed. Exploratory moves became deliberate strokes. Leon settled into a rhythm. He swiveled his hips and angled the way he pistoned them based on the little noises you’d make and the expressions that took over your face. He paid close attention to it all, wanting to learn what you liked, what made you feel good.

Ada continued moving her hands along your form. One moment she played with your nipples, the next she held your hips, after that she pulled your knees up further. It was dizzying trying to keep up.

“Our sweet girl,” she cooed in your ear, “Precious baby. Maybe this should be your new job. You’re good at your other one, but I think we’d like having you all to ourselves.”

Leon groaned again, his head hanging forward. Although the words had been directed at you, they had just as much of an effect on him.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you, baby?” he asked, “Sitting around and looking pretty. Letting us spoil you like you deserve”

“You know she would. Do you even have to ask?” Ada said, “She’d love it. Spending the day kneeling between your legs while you work, using that mouth of hers whenever you want.”

“She could spend some with you too. Sit on your lap and let you play with her with one hand while typing with the other,”  he offered in return.

“And then one day, if she’s really good, maybe daddy will breed that cute little pussy and fuck a baby into her,” she whispered.

Leon’s hips snapped against you hard as you turned to eye her. The words broke you out of the spell his cock had you under before.

“What?” you asked.

She chuckled and cupped your jaw, giving you a patronizing kiss.

“What, sweetheart? You’d like that wouldn’t you? It’d make mommy and daddy so happy, you giving us another baby,” she said.

Your head spun at the idea. You blinked and sputtered. In your right, rational mind, you’d put a pause to this. But with a few drinks in you and one orgasm already under your belt, the idea didn’t sound all too bad. It’s not like you were gonna sign a contract or something. They weren’t even asking you to agree to anything right now. But just imagining it…

“You’d look so pretty, babydoll. Your hips all rounded out, all those curves nice and full, that cute stomach swollen with our baby,” Leon sighed.

Imagining it was in fact fun you decided. Your pussy clenched around him again before relaxing. You heard Ada moan softly beside you. Glancing over, you could see her fingers moving beneath her panties, working herself to the edge alongside you.

“You’d love it, honey. You’re made for it. And we’d take such good care of you, make sure you had everything you could want,” he added.

“Mmmm… daddy,” you babbled, unable to voice the full extent of your enthusiasm.

“Uh huh. Daddy’s right here. I’m gonna fill you up. You’re first little taste, yeah? I’ll get you nice and full so you know how it feels,” he moaned.

His bicep flexed as he continued to pound into you. Over and over, he slammed into your cunt. Ada continued moaning beside your ear. Her own noises were growing more desperate. You could feel her hips rocking up to meet her own touch.

“Daddy gonna- gonna- ah- gonna cum,” you whimpered.

“Go ahead, pumpkin,” he grunted, “Cum for daddy. Let me see my pretty girl let go.”

You didn’t need to be told twice.

You let release wash over you in a smooth wave. Your body writhed and twitched below his. You squirmed atop the blankets, letting your muscles melt into the plush comfort of them.

Next to you, Ada reached the high too. Watching you fall apart was the final straw in her own resolve. She bucked her hips and nuzzled into your throat while crumbling under the bliss of release.

Leon was the last one to join the club. He fucked you through your euphoria while approaching his own. When he finally hit it, a strangled moan burst from him. He fell forward against you, burying his face in the side of your neck not occupied by his wife. His hands gripped your hips and held them in place as he rolled his pelvis against your ass like a dog in heat. He fucked rope after rope of hot cum into you.

By the time he pulled out, you were nice and full just like he said you would be.

You were also undeniably sleepy. Your eyes were all but shut, and your body was curling up as though you were ready for a nap.

He stretched his arm out and pulled you against his side to rest. His other hand rubbed down your body, tenderly coasting over your soft skin.

“Such a good girl for us. You were so good,” he murmured, “Our sweet baby.”

Ada scooted near your back, her hand joining Leon’s in soothing you.

“Don’t keep her all to yourself,” she teased.

He rolled his eyes. “You had her to yourself hours before I got here,” he dismissed.

She smirked and pecked his lips before looking down at you. Leaning in, she nuzzled your ear. “Sleep now, baby. You need the rest. Daddy will carry you to bed in a little bit,” she whispered.

Like before, you didn’t need any convincing. Your muscles relaxed as they got comfortable and pulled the blankets into place. You let yourself drift off between their two bodies while the storm raged on outside. Your mind slipped into dreamland, letting reality melt away for a little while.

[rafescvntyclubgf]

𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬? | 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐔 & 𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐁𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐛

𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚏𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚘𝚛!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙰𝚌𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚌𝚂𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚊𝚛!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

+18 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓸𝓻 𝓓𝓝𝓘

✨💕 𝕋𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕜 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝟜𝕜! 💕✨

c/w - swearing, smut, oral male receiving, cum play, jealousy, possessive!rafe, ownership kink, pet names

Reader’s POV:

"How much time do we have, Mr. Cameron?"

"Before next class, princess? Not a lot..." Rafe chuckles sinfully. “Fuck Jack. That kid’s gettin’ an F.”

“Stop,” you giggle.

“Make me,” he chuckles. “Literally give me a reason to stop thinkin’ about it. ‘Cause I'm this close—”

“To what?” You whisper against his lips.

“From killin’ someone, honestly.”

"Let me suck your cock, baby. You like that…” You smile innocently, your words contradicting your tone.

“Like it?” He chuckles as he pulls you in a little closer, smiling against your lip. “I love it.” You brush your fingers against his bulge, already growing hard in his slacks.

Rafe tugs at the buttons of your satin shirt, slipping it off your shoulders onto the floor as you work on his. He looks down at you hungrily as you stand before him in your pretty little bra and skirt. Rafe leans down for a kiss, nose nuzzling against yours.

“I love feeling you on my tongue—”

"Oh yeah? That's what you want?" The man hums against your lips.

"That's all I want."

"Fuck, baby. Please." He whispers between little kisses. Rafe wraps his big arms around you tighter, kissing you deeply. His tongue slips between your lips, swirling with yours. You claim his lips one last time, moving to his jaw, a little further to his neck, leaving a trail of sparkly pink lipgloss in your wake. Your professor’s beautiful blue eyes follow the markings, lowering with you, eyeing you as you drop to your knees, looking up at him through your lashes.

Slipping your fingers under the bra straps, you slide them off your shoulders, gazing at the beautiful man towering above you. You drift your hands up to your cleavage, delicately drawing them over the top. Reaching your nipples, you trace small circles over the fabric, teasing the man further. "So fucking perfect, baby… Holy shit," he mumbles. Taking his cock in your hand, you pump slowly, your other hand massaging your breast.

"You looked too good today, baby," Rafe breathes as you slide your fingers under the lace of your bra slowly, toying with your nipple. Rafe's mesmerized, watching you play with the both of you at the same time. His eyes float slowly between the two of you. "Drives me crazy how those boys in class look at you. Hate that they don't know you're mine.”

"I don't care about them, baby. You know that," you breathe against his dick as he shuts his eyes, focused more on your touch than the words coming from your lips.

"Sweetheart. Oh my god," he moans. "They can flirt all they want. You're mine-"

"I'm yours, baby.”

“If they only knew," he smiles as he throws his head back. “If they only knew what you were doin’ right now... Maybe they’d know who you belong to.”

“You think that would help, baby?” You ask coyly as you stroke his fat cock, looking up at the older man from your knees.

“God… No. Not with you lookin’ like this. Just more of a reason for them to want you all for themselves…”

Your hand retreats, moving to your back, unclasping your bra with a single hand. The lacey material falls to his feet, pulling his full focus to you again. You continue to touch your chest as you stroke his cock, pressing your cleavage together, twisting your nipple. His breathing increases with each passing second as he watches you. "This cock is mine too," you whisper against his hard flesh, making goosebumps flare across his tanned skin.

"My cock is all yours, baby. Shittt... N'this mouth is mine." His breath catches in his chest as you brush your tongue from side to side on his tip, Rafe, looking at you through half-lidded eyes, trying his best to keep them open.

"All yours, Daddy."

"Ugh, that's it," he breathes as you swirl your tongue around his tip, collecting his precum, showing him the mess before slapping his fat cock against your lips. "Goddamn..." A deep moan rumbles in Rafe's chest as you wrap your lips around his dick, taking him to the back of your throat, drawing off slowly, squeezing your lips, leaving little lip gloss rings behind. "Just beautiful, pretty," he sighs, eyeing the mess. "Been thinkin' about that for hours. Such a fuckin’ slut f'me, huh?”

“Mhmm… Mmm,” you moan around his dick, making him grip the edge of his desk, his toes curling in his dress shoes.

You bob back and forth slowly and sloppily, using your hand to stroke where your mouth can't reach. Your other hand gropes his skin, tracing up his body. Hollowing your cheeks causes his abs to flex under your hand as you increase your suction. You can tell he's about to lose control. Pulling off slowly, you wrap your fingers around his cock. You stroke quickly, breasts bouncing with each thrust of the hand.

"Fuck, baby. Mpfhh… You look so damn good. Shit. I'm gonna cum," he groans.

"Yeah?" You whisper. "You gonna cum for me, Daddy?"

"Shittt… Yeah, princess. I'm gonna cum all over you..." You return your lips to his cock, throating him like only you can, gagging when you take as much of him as you can get. Rafe's brows pinch together, thighs clenching. You feel his cock swell and twitch on your tongue. "Ugh... Fuck," He moans, huskily. You pull him out of your mouth fast, pumping rapidly. Rafe's mouth falls open, eyes rolling back.

He cums on your tits, ropes of pearlescent white landing on your breasts. He watches carefully as you milk the last bits of pleasure from him. He lets out a satisfied sigh—a wide smile settles on his lips as he tilts his head up to the ceiling again.

"God, I fucking love you," he groans.

"I love you too, baby."

Rafe helps you to your feet— his lips pressing against yours, kissing you breathlessly. "Come over tonight, yeah?" He hums, the satisfaction dripping in his tone. Rafe brushes your hair off your face, cupping your cheeks, giving you a sweet kiss on the lips.

His rough thumb brushes across your nipple, gathering some of his sticky spent before lifting it to your mouth. Rafe rubs your pillowy lips before stuffing it inside, urging you to suck him clean.

You release him from your mouth with a pop. “Still a little messy, baby,” Rafe mumbles through a smirk. “Too bad we’re not at home.” He reaches over, snagging out his pocket square from his plaid blazer, cleaning off the rest before helping you back into your button-down. “We could take a shower. Hell, I coulda licked that shit up… spit it in that perfect little mouth of yours,” he mumbles, lips ghosting over the top of yours while he pinches your cheeks in his big hand, pressing a kiss on your lips instead.

“Tonight, please,” you smile.

“All night.” Rafe reaches for his black button-down, glossy marks still littered on his chest and abs. His cock still a tad bit messy as well.

"Aren't you gonna clean up," you giggle breathily as you brush his toned skin with your manicured finger, thumbing over a sticky kiss mark.

"These?" He asks, as he follows the stains with a smile. "Not a chance."

tags: @rafesthroatbaby | @marleymarleymarleymarley | @chelzaa | @rafesheaven | @nemesyaaa | @starkeysbabygirl | @littlelamy | @cameronsprincess | @lottalove4evelyn | @yasmin-oviedo | @vanessa-rafesgirl | @watchmerora | @rafeslovergirly | @buckybarnessweetheart | @anamiad00msday | @namelesslosers | @cades-outsider | @romaescapes | @starkeysprincess | @lish-0 | @oxpogues4lifexo | @unrealmirrorball | @lilithblackkk | @sleepiibunniiii | @gri959 | @rafesgiirl | @daryldixon83 | @akobx | @hyperfixationgirl | @lhhlver | @rrafeswhore | @slut-4-gojo | @blair-bears-blog | @loveesiren | @rafescorpsebride | @rafegf-real | @alphabetically-deranged | @ariana2saucyy | @rafestoothbrush | @hauntedfawnn | @laniirackssss | @jkrafe | @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account | @wtfdudesblog | @alejstarkey | @rafe-cameronswife | @rafedaddy01 | @st8rkey

[akirasarchives]

[00] Valuable Addition.

Summary: You wouldn’t say you’re in debt, but the dwindling money in your bank account is looking that way. Oh yeah, and a man in a suit won’t stop bothering you about playing a stupid child’s game.

— warnings: usual squid game behaviour, female reader

platonic squid game x reader, side romantic moments but it’s for the plot

[ 12TH, MONDAY, 08:47 ]

The subway station is busy. Businessmen, students and elderly passer-bys push past and shove into you as you stand clueless next to one of the big subway posters. Despite living in Seoul for so long, you barely know your way around and you’re at mercy to the beehive system. And it takes no prisoners.

You’ve been trying for the last 10 minutes to get the attention of anyone, but each person either ignores you or runs on to grab their train, but with each train passing your anxiety grows. It feels as if time has stopped around you as the vibrant chatter of people around you turns into mumbles and whispers as you attempt to understand the subway line. Even as you trace what you think is the blue line, it eventually turns into purple and now you’re on the other side of town!

With a heavy sigh, you turn to face the crowd once more. The crowd had thinned out in the last 10 minutes of your lone confusion and with a quick glance at your phone you see that it’s quickly approaching 9am.

It’s now or never.

“Excuse me, sir!” You tap the shoulder of the nearest well-dressed businessman. The man, seemingly in his 30s or early 40s turns and flashes you a charming smile. He dons a freshly pressed, steel grey suit made of soft, rich fabric. From a quick glance, you can tell the suit is made of expensive material as you spot tiny workings of the logo within the fabric itself. You feel as if you're staining the suit by touching it.

I just had to ask the good-looking one.

“May I help you?” He asks, using his free hand to smooth down his already wrinkle-free suit. His smile drops over time, yet he makes an effort to make it appear that it meets his eyes. Though, working in hospitality makes it easy to spot a false smile.

“I am sorry to bother you, but can you tell me which train takes me to Hannam-Dong?” You glance down at your phone. Foolishly, you forgot to check which train took you in the direction of the job interview you had scheduled today for a big company which would pretty much pay off the majority of your tuition fees in one wage. You practically burst into tears when the conductor told you that you purchased a ticket for the wrong line. The image of the money decreasing from your bank account due to a stupid purchase made you want to scream.

“Are there no ticket inspectors?” He hums, looking around. He looks around and almost comically turns in a circle before sighing. As if you couldn’t feel stupid enough for thinking you had to use a different line, the man in front of you had to make a theatrical out of it.

“I think it is this line.” He motions at the platform on the other side with the hand holding his expensive looking briefcase. You watch as it swings, seemingly empty.

“Thank you, sir!” You bow your head and smile, taking off before you finish the sentence. Soon enough you’re lost in the crowd again and hopefully not too late for the train.

[ 13TH, TUESDAY, 08:29 ]

Stupid nepotism. Yesterday, you arrived at the interview 10 minutes early despite the subway fiasco but you were informed that the role was filled that morning by an “experienced candidate who met the needs of the role”. Do you want to know who the candidate is? The CEOs nephew who just left high school and took a business class.

Now what? You’re at the same subway station waiting on the train to take you to your part-time cafe job 10 minutes away. Usually, you would walk it seeing as you don’t really like throwing away ₩1500 on a ticket that takes you 6 stops away but the torrential rain outside and your cheap umbrella were blocking you from walking 15 minutes.

The ticket crumbles in your hand as you fiddle with the flimsy paper. Maybe this was God’s sick way of telling you that you’re too ahead of yourself or that you’re destined to continue spending money that you don’t have. You trace over the price stamp, thinking over what you could’ve spent the money on.

Maybe a shitty cup of ramen?

“May I sit here?” A smooth voice breaks you from your trance. You glance up, straightening your posture. It’s the man from yesterday, gleaming down at you with the same formal smile. Again, it doesn’t reach his eyes yet you nod, shuffling to the right to allow him space on the bench.

“How was your interview?” He asks casually as he sets his briefcase beside him. He turns his back to you as he traces the cool metal edges of the case, popping it open with ease.

You gape, “How did you know I was going to an interview?”

“Well, you were dressed well and now you are in an apron. I assume you don’t go everywhere in a formal blazer.” He cracks open the briefcase as he casually explains. He’s weirdly observant, but his comment on the apron makes you glance down. Each wrinkle and subtle stain becomes more noticeable, but reminds you of each gruelling hour you put into the place. Each penny earned.

You can’t help but get lost in thought, barely processing as thick blue and red folded paper is passed into your eye-line.

“I am assuming you’re a café worker… That can’t pay much, no?” He motions at the cafe’s coffee bean logo on your black shirt. You nod, still dumbfounded by the paper squares.

His stare is so intense it leaves you a bit flustered so you naturally let out a nervous laugh, swapping your attention to the time on your phone. 10 minutes until your train...

“Um, no, I suppose not.” You reply, albeit awkwardly. He hums, satisfied with your late and short answer. Oddly, this is not one of the weirder conversations you’ve had at the subway station.

He shifts so that he’s facing you, “Let’s play a game, you know Ddakji, right?”

You glance between the paper and his face. He looks so sincere, but you can’t read his eyes. They’re deep, black almost and oddly… mischevious for a middle aged man. Honestly it’s quite disturbing.

“Each round you win, you’ll get ₩100,000. How about that?” The expression on your face coaxed him to continue. Perhaps you looked just as perplexed as you feel.

“Who are—“

“If I win, you pay with your body.”

… Is this man fucking crazy? You want to just leave the station but at the same time you’re so intrigued by what the fuck this man wants. Surely he has better things to do? Was he carrying the ddakji with him yesterday too?

The way he sits still as if he’s a mannequin is also quite disturbing. It’s as if he’s giving you time to process the question but you’re not debating the game, you’re debating just running out in the pouring rain.

“Well?”

“Railway line through Cheongpa-Dong is now boarding. Please board.”

You stand quickly, jolting the businessman with your speed.

“My train is here. Bye.”

[ 13TH, TUESDAY, 22:09 ]

The whole day the scenario played through your head. You were so caught up in thought that you burned yourself with the steamer and spent 10 minutes in the office running your hand until cool water. Even then, your mind wandered back.

It’s just so odd. You’ve never seen him before but now twice you’ve spoken to him. Has he always been there and it’s just more obvious now? Does he offer everyone this game? Is he following you? Does he know where you work?

You barely knew the time. Each drink passed by in seconds and each customer morphed into each other. Every time a man entered the shop in a suit, your heart pumped ferociously.

You can’t tell if you’re terrified of him or excited for the interaction. Maybe he’s just a fucking weirdo who walks around with ddakji in hopes of getting to slap people.

Plus, you could do with the money. Even if you win just one round, it could pay for your phone bill or electric meter.

The walk home isn’t exactly easy either. It’s dark and each corner turned, you’re expecting to see him waiting under a streetlight for you holding those red and blue squares.

“If I win, you pay with your body.”

Unbothered, he extends the squares towards you. It feels as if you’re sucked out of your body as you stare at him. Time slows and no one else is there. Did he just ask you to sleep with him? What in the world could that mean? Is this man a trafficker and he has his eyes set on you? The questions flurry through your brain in a span of mere seconds, yet you still feel the cool air pass over your skin as the train rails in beside you. Your hair falls into your eyesight as you gape at him.

“Well?” He motions towards the cards.

What in the fucking world.

[ 16TH, FRIDAY, 22:35 ]

The pile of unread emails grows in your inbox. Failure to attend lectures, the price increasing of your off campus housing, monthly payments that leave you with just under ₩145,000 to survive for a month. It’s unbearable. You’ve gotten used to the growl in your stomach and the lightheadedness that comes with the fatigue of hunger. Missing night outs with your friends, walking long distances until your feet ached and slaving away at work for nasty people while your eyes threatened to close. It’s all becoming a bit much, especially as your final year in University comes to a close.

The burn on your hand doesn’t help either. It’s right between the juncture of your thumb and index finger on your right hand and it aches when any sort of warmth meets it. You can’t afford to throw away money on soothing gels at the moment, so you bear with the pain. It’s already been a few days, so hopefully it disappears soon. You hope anyway.

Walking home in the dark used to scare you but as needs be, you’ve gotten used to it. Work looms over your head as your feet trudge through fallen leaves and debris kicked up by bikes and feet. The walk from work to home isn’t too bad, the area can be sketchy at times but you’ve learned to keep your head straight, don’t make eye contact and keep a hand on the box cutter you keep in your right side coat pocket.

Luckily, you’ve come across most of the same people. An older man always passes by, seemingly walking home from work and always flashes you a smile. A few students usually run by too and the occasional office worker. Most times however, it’s quiet.

Unlike tonight.

Faint sounds of slapping, cheering and grunting bounce off the walls of the buildings surrounding the dark streets. You can’t tell where it’s coming from, who it’s coming from or why but you prefer to keep it that way, but as you grow closer to a dimly lit side street, the noises become louder.

You sigh, hand grasping the box cutter. Your thumb presses onto the button, holding it steady in case you need to use it.

Keep your head straight, [y/n]. This doesn’t involve you.

You can’t help but flicker your eyes to your left as you walk past. A man lies cowering on the ground as he grasps his face with his hands. He’s whimpering, blabbing something to the taller, well-dressed man that hovers above him.

Is that the man from the subway station?

You quicken your pace. Your feet fall over each other as you attempt to walk away as naturally as possible, but you accidentally kick up some rocks as you scatter past. The suited man turns, casting his eyes on you. The pit in your stomach grows as you continue walking with urgency, daring not to look anyway but forward.

I am so fucked!

[ 22ND, THURSDAY, 12:09 ]

“Long-time, no see.” A shadow casts over your figure, effectively blocking your view of your phone screen. You glance up at the man that is effectively disturbing one of the only peaceful moments you’ve had lately.

He’s dressed in a black variant of the steel grey suit you saw the past couple times of meeting him, but he still carried the same stupid suitcase. You sigh, swiping your music app closed and locking your phone with a click as you use a hand to cover your eyes.

Always with the same fake smile.

“I don’t want to play your game, sir.” You try to reject as kindly as possible, but you’re kind of freaked out that he found you once more. He looks slightly disheveled, as if he’s been toying with his hair or the heat today had worn him down. Weirdly, he looks more human, though little emotion lingers behind his eyes.

“That’s unfortunate. I brought it with me.” He lifts his suitcase higher into view. You frown, glancing around at other patrons. You take the time to unplug your earphones from your ears as he seems to ground his feet into the pavement before you.

He’s hard to get rid of.

“You bring it everywhere with you.” You reply, a bit more harsh than you’d want to but he seems amused by it. Suddenly, the image of him hovering over the cowering man flashes in your head.

Don’t piss him off.

You grasp your iced coffee, ignoring how the condensation soaks your hand. The subtle clinking of the ice works to calm you down as your heart begins to race at the thought of being in the position of the cowering man.

“How did you—“

“Bread or lottery?”

You blink.

“What?”

He shakes his hands, “Bread or lottery?”

“I don’t want to choose.” He seems to hold back something as he sighs.

“No matter what you choose, nothing will happen.” He assures you.

He is determined.

“I won’t have to ‘pay with my body’?” You reiterate what he said at the station. He cocks a brow, but nods nonetheless. It’s odd, it’s the most emotion he’s ever shown and it’s because you threw his words back at him.

You don’t quite fancy the idea of taking food off of him, despite its packaging being intact, so you motion for the lottery ticket silently. He hands you it quickly, fetching a spare penny from his blazer pocket. His hand lingers on your own as he passes you the coin, causing you to stare at him. His lips curl at the corners and you feel as if you just fell into a trap.

“Go ahead.” He almost sings, shuffling to stand over you.

The weight of the coin in your hand is replaced by a ton of bricks. Since when do scratch cards look so intimidating?

The lapels of the salesman’s blazer graze against your back as he stares at the blue sheet with you. You’re effectively caged against the bench that you're sitting at as he extends over your left shoulder and rests against the table.

A shaky exhale passes your lips as you stare at the sheet. The coin shakes in your hold as you begin to scratch, revealing a seven.

“Just three sevens, easy, right?” He chimes in, leaning closer to your face. The smell of his clean, fresh and most likely expensive fragrance wafts past your nose, reminding you just how close he is.

Each scratch feels like it’s taking a lifetime to reveal, but you eventually reach a second seven. You dare to glance to your left, marvelling at how close he is. You can see each fine detail across this enigma of a man’s face. In the short few seconds, you notice his asymmetrical eyes, the whisper of facial hair around his mouth and the dark excitement lingering within his eyes.

Eventually, you scratch away the last box.

“Congratulations, Miss.” The salesman hums, as he stands back straight. The hand he used to rest against the table slips up your arm to press firmly against your shoulder.

You’re astonished. I won? Seriously?

“No way.” You whisper, staring at the sheet. ₩500,000! It’s not the largest amount offered in the lottery but it’s a damn good amount for you. You can pay off a bit more of your loans and maybe afford a half-decent meal tonight.

You barely take notice as the suited man lifts his briefcase once more, and turns to look back at the park. The homeless people he once targeted are still filing through the bread he stomped on and destroyed, bar the one he left over for you. He grasps it in his hands, mulling over his options.

“Excuse me!” He yells out, tossing the bread in the air and catching it. The small crowd of people scattered around the pile of bread and some passer-by’s stop.

You gape, staring at his back.

“You can thank this young lady here for the bread!” He tosses the bread into the pile of people with a sharp throw. You watch as the homeless crowd revenge against each other, shouting and yelling their demands for the food.

You stand from the table, slipping the winning sheet in your handbag and grasping your mostly melted coffee.

I should cash in and go home.

“Hey, did she win?” A gruff voice yells out. You freeze, staring at the businessman. Anyone with any sort of wit would say no, right?

“Of course.” He smiles, standing to the side so the crowd peeps a better view at you.

He’s just fed you to a pack of very hungry wolves.

You want to say something, but the sight of about 10 people suddenly rushing towards you causes the words to die in your throat. You clutch your bag strap and almost drop your coffee as you scramble over the bench you were sitting on.

However, a barrier is formed before you. The crowd stops, staring at the swinging briefcase that blocks their path to you.

“Hey! We deserve that money!”

“You deserve nothing.” The salesman spits back. The disheveled man looks astonished, glancing between you and your new bodyguard.

“You got your card and she got hers. Play fair, weren’t you taught that in school?”

The homeless man is visibly rattled, mumbling and spewing out insults.

“I am not the one who made that decision. You are the one who threw it away!” He shouts. Suddenly, he steps forward and swings his case out, causing the crowd to fall back. Some fall over themselves and create a domino for the ones at the front.

As he revels in the chaos he creates, he misses how you slip away into the crowd.

[ 25TH, SUNDAY, 10:57 ]

“Miss, I understand you are a student but I am also a landlord, I can only wait so long without payment.” Your landlady frowns as she stands outside your door. You scramble around, picking up the last remaining notes you earned from the lottery ticket.

“I am sorry, Mrs. Kwon! Please, take this ₩300,000 I have. I promise I will get you the rest on Friday! I get paid then!” You plead, passing the money into the woman’s hands. She’s quite frazzled, pulling back her hands as you grab them to slot the notes into. Usually, the money would come out of your bank account but you locked your card as you can’t afford for her to take the last of your money.

She splutters, backing up as the money falls to her feet. You scramble to pick up the notes.

“Miss, your rent is ₩900,000 a month. You missed out a part of last month too! Where did you get this money from?” She quizzes, watching as you recount your notes. She wasn’t wrong, you were short about ₩250,000 last month and you were damn lucky she let you off on it.

“I understand, please take this to cover some of the money I missed out on.” She takes the money, sighing as she flicks the notes between her fingers and passes you back ₩150,000. You try to refuse but she uses your previous tactic on yourself.

“Take this. Listen, my granddaughter is in a place like you so I understand, but you cannot keep living like this. What happened to your last job interview? You told me you would never be short on money again!”

Your gaze drops to the floor at this point. Again, you’re forced to remember how the opportunity was practically ripped from your hands before you had a chance to even try.

“He gave it to his nephew.” You reply.

Mrs. Kwon sighs, glancing at the other tenants' doors. None of the neighbours ever cause her as much trouble as you do, yet she finds it hard to evict you. Even now, you look like her granddaughter, defeated and at the mercy of the world.

“Just pay me what you can on Friday. I will give you until your graduation to sort this out, okay?” You nod, thanking her profusely.

Maybe I should play that game of ddakji…

[ 1ST, SATURDAY, 14:26 ]

“Are you crazy? Some man keeps asking you to play ddakji and you’re going to say yes?” Your coworker pales as he finishes mixing up some drinks. You nod, glancing back out at the glass doors. The café is quiet today despite the few regulars, so you find yourself able to fall into conversation with him quite easily.

“Ddakji?” Your other coworker, Junhee, pops her head out from the kitchen. You nod, expecting the same reaction from her but it never comes.

“I’m good at that. Try to hit it with the folded part down.” She smiles, popping back in.

“Hey! Why would you tell her to do that?” Yunho scolds, passing the drinks to the collection station. You can’t help but laugh as you round the corner to pass the cups to the customers. They are used to the usual bickering behind the counter so they pay no mind as the two talk back and forth. Most of your customers are students anyway, so they don’t care much as long as the drinks and food taste nice.

The fight continues into the night, even as Yunho is locking up and watching the shutters fall.

“Are you sure you don’t want a ride home?” He offers, but both you and Junhee decline. Yunho is nice, almost a bit too nice so you don’t want to feel like you’re taking advantage of him.

“Me and [y/n] will walk home together. Thank you, though.” Junhee answers. Truthfully, she doesn’t live far from you but she is closer to the café than you are. You know she’s struggling a bit with rent too and you’ve both discussed the possibility of moving in together, but she is having trouble with her boyfriend so you don’t want to pry and become the main reason she leaves him. She hasn’t told you much but it is financial and she fears she may be pregnant.

As you fall into pace together, Junhee begins to wring her hands nervously. You know she’s holding out on telling you something as it’s the same thing she did before she told you what Myunggi did.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, glancing at her shorter fame. Despite her hair hanging over her eyes, you can see the worry spread across her face,

“Listen, [y/n], I played ddakji with the same man.” Junhee stops in her path. You pause. He had played with her?

“The businessman?” You ask, to which she eagerly nods.

You step closer, looking around nervously. “Did you pay with your body?”

“Yes. He slapped me.”

“He what?”

Junhee throws her head back, “I won every time, but the last round I missed. He slaps you if you fail to flip the ddakji!”

As concerned as you should be, it feels as if a lightbulb blinks above your head.

“So what you’re saying is that I just have to be good at ddakji?”

“What I’m saying is to be careful! He gave me this card too…” She fumbles in her bag, pulling out a cream card with a circle, square and triangle printed onto it. She flips it, displaying an address.

“He said to go there in 3 days. He didn’t really explain it much but he said there were still some spots open.”

[ 3RD, MONDAY, 23:07 ]

“I can’t believe my eyes.” He muses, “I almost think you’ve been looking for me.”

“And what if I was?” Defiantly, you meet his dark gaze. As long as Junhee was telling the truth and he was only going to slap you, it would be easy. It’s not like he’s going to knock your tooth out.

Hopefully.

“Give me the blue one.” You hold your right hand out, requesting the brightly coloured square. He fumbles with his suitcase as he attempts to not look as excited as he is.

He sets the red square face down onto the pavement. Yes, pavement. You caught the fucker as he was stalking down the back alleys near your house as he was probably on his way to find another player.

“You know, you’re one of the first to ask me to play.” He hums, watching as you steady your two feet. Truthfully, you never played ddakji but the guise of the game was nothing too hard to grasp. Plus, you practised a little in your house.

“Try to hit with the folded part down.”

Junhee’s word echo throughout your head as you fling the card down with a bit of force. As told, the red square flips round.

“You’re good. Here you go.” The businessman passes you ₩100,000., the first of the night.

[ 3RD, MONDAY, 23:18 ]

“Alright, last round. You have almost emptied me out.” He motions to his discarded case. The last ₩100,000 sits pretty, almost beaconing you to take it straight from its place. But, you must play fair right? Even the businessman thinks so as you remember back at the park when he fed you to the crowd and saved you at the same time.

“I’m starting to think you’re a lucky charm for me.” You laugh, taking the blue square from his hand. Since he showed up, you’ve started to notice a stronger cash flow and hopefully the card he’s bound to give you continues the lucky streak.

But, instead of laughing or seeming amused, he flashes you a sinister smirk. You stare as he fixes himself. He had long abandoned his blazer, instead opting to roll his sleeves up and really give the game his all seeing as you had won 5 rounds. You have to admit, his disheveled state wasn’t the worst sight to look at.

“I think I’m quite the opposite.” He replies, hands smoothing down his waistcoat. You try to shake off his reply as he’s most likely trying to throw you off your game.

Maybe I shouldn’t be playing ddakji in a dark alleyway with him. Alone. At 11pm.

Tearing your gaze away, you return to the form that has won you five rounds. Steady feet, steady arms and steady breathing aided you in your last rounds and it’s almost as if it’s become second nature to you.

The square leaves your hands in a flash and you don’t bother to look as you stand proudly. A large thwack jumps off of the brick walls surrounding you both as you stare at him with nothing but pride on your face.

But…

Why is he coming at me?

Within a flash, the man’s left arm swings into your peripheral and you squawk as you jump back, throwing your arms out to push him away. Your eyes clench closed as your heartbeat thumps so loudly, it sounds as if there’s drums in your ears.

“You dodged me. That’s not fair.” You stare incredulously. The speed at which he swung at you would’ve landed you on your ass in a second flat. Junhee never told you that. With a dumbfounded expression, you look to the ground.

I missed.

“You tried to punch me. What the fuck?” You scatter, grasping your bag from the ground. You don’t need that damn card, what the fuck was Junhee on about? Is she crazy? Why is she going to that place tomorrow?

“I told you. If you lose, you pay with your body.” He explains casually, as if he didn’t just try to send you to the e.r. “Plus, I was going to slap you.”

“You would’ve knocked my fucking tooth out!”

“It was your choice to play, now stand still for me.”

You step back as he steps forward. Like Hell you’re letting him lay his hands on you.

“I don’t like people who don’t play fair. Please don’t make me hate you after we had so much fun.” He stresses, caging you against the brick wall. Your eyes flicker around, attempting to find a way to slip out. But, he’s read your mind, kicking a nearby bin over on its side.

“I never agreed to you hurting me.” You retaliate, flinching as he brings his right hand to your left cheek. Your eyes clench once again, but the delicate touch of his hand makes you gasp.

What is he doing? Is he seriously caressing my cheek?

The dim light from the nearby street lamps cast a soft light across his features, softening his appearance. If you weren’t so goddamn scared for your life and it was a man 20 years younger, maybe you wouldn’t mind this.

This is a textbook murder. What the fuck have I done?

He sighs, his fingerprints tracing a light pattern across your cheek. Each touch tingles, reminding you of where he’s touched. It’s similar to how your ex boyfriends would hold and touch you. It’s wrong, so wrong.

How can I think of Haejo right now!?

But, that’s until he gets rougher. Soon, he’s manhandling your face, using his thumb and fingers to hold your face in place by your chin. You spew complaints, twisting your body and using your hands to attempt to push him away.

“Didn’t anyone tell you to not talk to strange men on the street?” He sneers, disliking how you’re gradually dislodging yourself from his grasp. You ignore him, focusing on punching, shoving and kicking. You’re so distracted you don’t notice how his hand drops from your chin until it hits you.

He hits you.

You’re yelping, falling and scraping against the brick wall as tears cloud your vision. You’re crumbling, falling into yourself as you cry fat tears. Your ears are ringing and your face feels hot to the touch.

I’m reporting this fucker to the police.

“Fuck you!” You shout, looking up at his figure. Suddenly, you are the man you saw a few weeks ago. He stands unwavering, almost enjoying your crouched form. You can barely see between your tears and clumped lashes and you’re almost one hundred percent sure your mascara has streaked across your eyes, but you don’t care. You’re so fucking angry and scared, you’re shaking as you look at him.

“You agreed to play.” He’s right, but so obnoxious about it. He crouches to meet your form, staring at you as if you’re nothing but a scrawny child or animal. You might as well be.

Suddenly, he flicks a card between his index and middle finger, dropping it into your lap. It clatters and lands on the dirty ground, but you recognise the shapes Junhee told you about.

“Go to the address tomorrow. You’ll be the most valuable addition yet.”

With that, he leaves.

masterlist

[ghouljams]

The Church of the Broken God (chapter 2)

Words: 5k Tags: Eventual John Price x reader, public masturbation, brainwashing, doublespeak, indoctrination, f!reader, passively suicidal ideation, self destructive habits, horrible bosses, depressed!reader, Cult Leader!Price Summary: Your life has been on a downward spiral for months. It's hard to find a real reason to keep going when everything you do seems to backfire. That is, until you get a flier for a meditation seminar that promises to fix all your problems.

<- prev chapter | next chapter ->

These women are… super nice. You don’t know why it puts you on edge. They’re not doing anything wrong. They buy each other drinks, compliment each other, they’re attentive listeners and laugh at every joke you make. You offer to buy a round, the same as they’ve been doing for you, and you’re not met with a rush to stop you. They look pleased, shoot off thanks and smile the same as they did for the other women. You feel like you’re doing the right thing, you don’t know why it makes your stomach squirm. Maybe you’re just not used to people doing nice things for you.

“You ok?” Nina asks, leaning over the table to frown at you, “you’ve gone all quiet.”

“Yeah, uh, I guess I’m just not used to crowds anymore.” You attempt to cover.

“It’s the compliments isn’t it?” Cassie jumps in, Nina waves her off.

“No, no!” You hold up your hands to defend yourself, “Those are really nice, you’re all really nice! I’m just not-”

“Used to it?” Nina finishes with a wince, “I wasn’t either, it was super awkward the first time I came out for drinks, you remember?”

“Oh my God so awkward, you were like a robot.” Cassie laughs, it takes some of the weight off your shoulders.

“But you get what you put out into the world, y’know? You give kindness, you get it in return, that’s what John says.” Nina nods, she crosses her arms and leans back against the booth. She feels serious, her jaw set and her brows drawn. “I was in a really dark place when I first took John’s class, it felt like I was living a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from. My friends were drifting away, my fiance was cheating on me-” She shakes her head, you wince at how closely your situation matches, “-I was so bitter and it made me mean, I get why no one wanted to be around me.”

“Nina-” Cassie sighs, her sympathy obvious. Nina waves her off again, sitting forward to grab her drink.

“Whatever, it’s in the past now.” Nina mutters, your heart aches for her. You set a hand on her shoulder, giving it a friendly squeeze. She smiles at you. It feels… good. You can see yourself in her, your pain and suffering. It’s a weight that she carries the same as you. “Kyle really helped me a lot, Christ I owe him a whole bakery.”

“Nina!” Cassie squeals, shoving at her. Nina’s shoulder bumps against you, warm. Camaraderie. Did you forget what it was like to have friends? When was the last time you saw your own? The last time they laughed with each other, with you? “You’re so bad,” Cassie laughs.

“What? He’s hot!” Nina laughs back. You feel a little left out. Your stomach clenches.

“Sorry, who’s Kyle?” You ask, “Your boyfriend?”

“She wishes,” Cassie snorts into her drink. Nina shoves at her.

“He’s a counselor, life coach sort of guy.” Nina explains, “He has a class at the rec center on Wednesdays-” Claire’s phone pings “-honestly it’s worth going just to see him, God I wanna make a sandwich out of that man.”

“I’m gonna hit the bathroom,” Claire announces. You glance at the other women at the table. None of them move. Weird, you would have thought women this close would be biting at the bit to accompany her. You always used the buddy system with your friends. Especially at bars. In fact the other women at the table seem to ignore her, only acknowledging her enough to move out of the way. 

You guess there’s a black sheep in every friend group. You know the feeling. You tap your fingers against the table watching her retreat to the bathroom. You don’t have a good feeling about letting her go alone. Nina’s insistence on “putting kindness into the world” or whatever is running through your head and you just… you can’t let her be on the outskirts of the friend group alone. You’re not even really part of it, but everyone is being so nice- you won’t be the reason this girl is left out.

“Oh um, I’m gonna ask the bartender something,” You tell the girl on your left, shit what was her name “can you-?

“Sure!” She pushes herself out of the booth to let you out, quickly cozying up next to Nina when you vacate the spot. You glance at the table over your shoulder as you make your way towards the bar, then make a hard turn towards the bathrooms. No one’s paying attention to you, that’s good.

You push the bathroom door open, trying to be quiet in case Claire’s shy. You’ll just, uh, wash your hands and pretend you’re fixing your outfit when she comes out. Nothing weird about that. Totally normal thing that people do, and not like you’re waiting for her to come out of the stall so you can- What? Commiserate about being left out? Ugh, you don’t know why you even-

There’s a distinct, wet, noise coming from one of the stalls. A ‘shlick, shlick’ sound that you recognize all too easily. You catch the bathroom door to keep it from slamming and cover your mouth. Fingers sliding against a wet slit, a soft huff of a stifled moan, and the quiet low rumble of a man’s voice. Deep and throaty, she’s on the phone with someone, or listening to something. You can’t tell which, what you can tell is that Claire --the girl who had seemed almost too shy to ask you to join them--  is masturbating in a public bathroom. And you’re standing there listening. You’re not sure which is worse. It squirms like bile in your stomach, you’re intruding, you’re being a creep. Your own cunt clenches. 

A quiet whimper leaves Claire’s mouth and you rush back out of the bathroom. You catch the door a second time to make sure she doesn’t hear it slam, then you press yourself against it. You fan your face, try to get your breathing right, fix your face. Fix your damn face! You press your hands to your cheeks, and squeeze your eyes shut. Oh my God.

You make your way back to the table, doing your best to avoid looking at anyone. The girl who moved for you initially lights up when she sees you, hopping out of the booth and ushering you in. You feel a little awkward sliding into the middle with Nina, but you don’t want to cause a fuss with so many people watching you. Good lord do they all have to look at you? 

“Did the bartender have what you were looking for?” Nina asks. Your eyes dart to her.

“The- oh, uh, no. I was wondering if he had a phone charger.” You cover quickly.

“I have a power bank you can use,” Cassie offers. You open your mouth to turn her down before remembering that would blow your story out of the water.

“Sure.” You relent, forcing a smile onto your face. 

“No problem,” Cassie chirps, digging through her purse to tug a power bank and two different chargers free, “it feels good to do nice things for people, don’t you think?”

“Yeah,” you agree absentmindedly, fussing with the charger and plugging your phone in. An alert for a non-branded charger pops up and you quickly dismiss it. 

The conversation moves on to other topics, but you hardly pay attention. Your eyes are glued to the bathroom door, waiting for Claire. When she does finally exit she looks the same as when she left. No ruddy cheeks, no guilty glances around, no rumpled shirt or anything that would give away what she was doing in the bathroom. You try not to narrow your eyes as they flick over her body. You don’t want to look like you’re checking her out, you just want proof that you heard what you heard.

“Welcome back,” Someone says, and Claire beams at them.

“Who’s buying the next round?” Claire asks.

You drift in and out of conversation. Someone offers to split an uber with you, apparently they live in the same building. You wonder how you never noticed them before, but they hug you before you get off the elevator.

“It was nice to connect with you,” She hums, “it feels nice being part of something, doesn’t it?”

You don’t get a chance to answer before the doors close.

-

Wednesday, you think, flipping through your phone while you brush your teeth. Nina said her life coach guy was on wednesdays right? Curious, you check the rec center’s website.

“For the Whole You!” The site banner reads in friendly font. You scroll down to their calendar. There’s a lot of pictures of people smiling, a pie chart of something, testimonials, blah blah blah. The calendar is easy to read at least. And packed. It looks like meditations happen every three days, you spot John’s name easily. Price, huh, that’s a cool last name. Wednesdays… 

You click on the only Kyle you see, and a page pops up with- Christ- one of the most beautiful men you’ve ever seen. Kyle Garrick, life coach with a masters in psychology. That doesn’t sound too bad. You thought life coaches were just con men in ripped jeans, but this guy seems like he might actually know what he’s talking about. John’s name pops up again, a short anecdote from Kyle about serving with him. Huh. That’s kind of interesting you guess. 

You think back on the meditation lesson you’d attended, the power that John seemed to carry in simple actions, the musculature, the way he’d pinned you in place with a single tilt of his head. Military fits you guess. You click on his class and tap your fingers against the side of your phone as you think. The class has a helpful registration counter at the side, letting you know there’s one spot left for the wednesday evening class. It’s not like you have anything else going on, and it’ll fill your usual therapy slot. It’s twenty for a single class. That’s not too bad, less than therapy co-pays. You make an account on the site, begrudgingly signing up for their email list, and send twenty dollars into the void. 

You get an email from Kyle about an hour later as you’re scrolling through instagram, avoiding looking at the time. It feels pretty standard, welcoming a new person, attaching a survey on what you want to work on. You type out a few quick words promising you’ll get to it in the morning. Your email pings a few minutes later.

“You must be an insomniac, just tackle it now.” You narrow your eyes at the screen, “Might help you sleep to accomplish a task before bed.” 

What sort of weird logic- fine. You squint at the questionnaire, typing out your answers as best you can. Honest enough to get some advice but not honest enough to get sent to the hospital has always been your MO with these things. This one is sort of weird, but you’re exhausted, too sleep-addled to pay proper attention.

Are you lonely? Do you ever feel out of place? Do you have dreams where you act as someone else? Have you heard of the law of attraction? When someone says they feel “connected” to you, how does that make you feel?

Do you ever feel talked over?

Do you ever feel pushed out of conversations? Do you find it hard to accept yourself?

Are you on the path you want to be?

You rub your eyes, typing as best you can. 

Where do you see improvement for yourself?

Describe yourself in one negative word.

You type, and type. It feels never ending. Worse than the insomnia that keeps you up. It’s nearly two hours later when you finish. You send it off to Kyle without another thought, and snuggle down into your blankets. You’re so tired.

Your phone buzzes. You roll over to check it. Another email from Kyle.

“Thanks, this looks great! :)” You sigh. At least your work checks out. That’s good, you’re sure it’s just an auto-response, but you appreciate it nonetheless. Another message pops up. Your email alerting you to a new response in the chain.

“How long have you had trouble sleeping? I know a few good remedies.” You sigh, the screen hurts your eyes. You don’t know what inspires you to reply, why you don’t simply roll over to sleep. The attention is nice, you suppose.

“A few months. What’s your miracle cure?” You stare at your phone, let the blue light laser its way over your eyes. The screen dims, you tap it to keep your phone awake. To keep you awake. 

“Have you heard of sleep restriction therapy?”

-

Your morning has never felt more miserable. You barely slept and you had to upgrade your usual tea to an instant coffee. You’re nursing the brown sludge that you managed to scrape together from the break room’s limited stores when your least favorite manager swings by your cubicle.

“Did you finish the reports I asked for?” Kevin asks. You do your best to keep your face neutral as you sip your scalding caffeine.

“I told you they’d take me until the end of the day.” You remind him, “It’s nine in the morning.” Nevermind that he’s swinging into the office a full hour late, but you know for a fact that you promised the updated numbers by five today. You have the email to prove it.

“Oh,” Kevin makes a face, his teeth grit as he exhales through them, “I was really hoping you’d work on them last night.”

“Outside of work hours.” You confirm, trying not to sound too much like you’re questioning his less than sound judgement.

Kevin sighs your name with a shake of his head, “You know you’re not going to get very far in this company if you don’t care about your work.”

You take a deep breath through your nose, inhaling as much coffee vapor as you can stomach. It does nothing to calm you down. You can’t be expected to deal with this level of bullshit on practically zero sleep. Maybe you should look into that sleep therapy Kyle sent you, you really can’t keep living like this.

“I care about my work Kevin,” You tell him with as much of a smile as you can manage, “I’ll have the reports to you as soon as possible.”

“Atta-girl,” Kevin praises, snapping his finger to hit you with a nauseating pair of finger guns before moseying back to his office.

If you thought reporting him to HR would do anything you might consider it. As it stands you’ve already tried that twice and gotten nowhere. It just made him more dedicated to making your work life hell. Crazy how they always talk about retaliation in the “Hostile work environment” training videos, but no one seems to give a shit about it when it’s happening to you.

You spend the next two hours swearing at the mess of spreadsheets that Kevin emailed you yesterday. If he’d bothered to clean any of the sheets up it would’ve made your life a hell of a lot easier. You don’t even want to think about how many cells could’ve been saved if he knew how to use just one function. You can feel the start of a migraine pressing against the back of your eyes by the time your stomach is starting to growl at you about lunch.

You glance away from your monitor to rub your eyes, try to get some of the blurry tilt out of them. Your bag sits on the desk next to you, deliriously empty. Fuck.

Fuck that’s right, you’d decided to skip packing a lunch this morning because you were running late for your train. 

With a heavy sigh you check your lunch options just as your phone pings.

It’s an unknown number, weird.

You swipe the message open to delete it and pause.

“Hey, it’s Nina! I saw you work near me and was wondering if you’d want to grab lunch?”

You blink at your phone screen. How the hell would she know where you work?

Your sluggish brain clicks away as your stomach churns nervously. You guess Cassie works at the rec center, she’d see applications that come through, membership stuff. Maybe Cassie gave it to her? Nina was the one who suggested you sign up for Kyle’s class, maybe Cassie wanted to, you don’t know, spread the good news of your signing up?

Your head throbs.

You’re not really operating at 100% right now, you’re not sure you want to interact with someone who seems to have their life together.

“My treat?” Nina double texts you.

Alright, you can pretend to be a human being for free lunch.

You’re almost relieved to see Nina has a little darkness under her eyes, purple sleeplessness that she’s tried to hide with concealer. It makes you feel a little better for your own sluggish brain to think that she might be tired too. 

“I know this is probably totally weird,” She laughs when you greet her with a raised hand, “You’re probably like, oh my god this bitch is a stalker, how does she know where I work?”

“I figure Cassie gave it to you, because I signed up for your favorite class.” You yawn, as she nods.

“That’s smart,” She says nothing about your second yawn, “wouldn’t have been my first thought.” You hum, before deciding a verbal answer is friendlier.

“Yeah, I mean it seemed sort of weird, but you don’t strike me as the stalker type.”

“Tell my ex-fiance that,” Nina says with an eye roll, “ask to share your location one time- of course I was right to be a stalker but…”

You snort and she positively beams at you. You have to squint to avoid blinding yourself in the sunshine of it. She links her arm with yours and tugs you along to walk with her. You do your best not to tug your arm out from her hold, not used to being touched so casually.

“So what are you in the mood for?” She asks, leading you down the street.

“I’m not picky,” You tell her, trying to be easy. You could really go for something warm right now, you think you might be coming down with something.

“You look exhausted,” Nina coos sympathetically, “Maybe you should go home instead. Rest.”

You rub your eye with the heel of your hand and shake your head. “I’ve got a lot to get done today.”

“Surely your boss won’t mind you taking some sick time?” She sounds so sincere, you feel bad when you bark out a laugh. Nina frowns, “One of those, huh?” You sigh, letting yourself feel the heaviness in your limbs like a sick indulgence.

“Just a few more hours,” You assure her, “Then I can go home and sleep.”

“Let’s get something good in you before then.” Nina nods to herself.

Nina orders for you and sets a steaming bowl of rice and saucy vegetables in front of you. It smells heavenly, like ginger and coconut, and there’s little crispy bits of something sprinkled on top. She has a salad, and shakes it vigorously in front of her while you mix up the yellow curry and rice. Even just the thought of the food’s warm steam settling in your stomach energizes you. You glance at Nina and she’s got her head bowed. 

You-

Pause. 

A little awkward in the face of what must be prayer. You’re not quite sure if you’re supposed to start without her, or if that’s rude. You don’t know the protocol for this. After a moment she raises her head and blinks at you.

“Oh my gosh, were you waiting for me?” She asks, scandalized. You nod, unsure what to do with your hands. You settle on spooning a heap of curry and rice into your mouth. You figure that’s fine since she’s done. “That’s really sweet of you,” She smiles. She doesn’t give you any indication if this was the right thing to do. You stare at your bowl and chew.

“I was going to invite you to hang at the rec center after work,” Nina starts, waving her fork with a sigh, “but I don’t want you to push yourself if you’re exhausted.”

“Do people hang out at the rec center?” You question, trying to remember if you saw other people there when you went yesterday. It had seemed fairly empty, almost abandoned, but maybe you’d been too focused on getting to your class to notice anything else. The class was full, so there must have been other people hanging around.

“Of course,” Nina gives you a look like you’re crazy for asking, “like all the time. It’s a nice spot just to chill and see people. John doesn’t mind us hanging around.”

John. That was the meditation instructor’s name, wasn’t it? It’s pretty common, you doubt it’s the same guy. Why would an instructor mind if people hung around anyway? Cassie had pointed you towards a lounge area last night so there must be more of those to steal for chatting.

“The meditation instructor?” You ask dumbly. It’s not the question you want to ask, but it’s the only thing that sticks on your tongue. Nina hums her assent.

“He runs the place.” She explains, “he’s super nice, really cares about bringing people together, building community, connections.”

She says the word like it means something: connections. It sticks in your sluggish mind, but doesn’t raise any red flags.

“Sounds like a good guy.” You shove another bite into your mouth.

“He is.” Nina tells you. Tells you, like she’s demanding you try and disagree with her.

You blink. There’s a coldness to her face, there and gone. She smiles, and tucks into her salad.

Maybe she’s got a thing for him. You make a note not to say anything bad about him to her.

He seemed nice, good looking, she could do worse.

You suppress a shiver at the memory of his hands on you, pushing you forward and pulling you back like it was the most natural thing in the world. His touch is the first you’ve had in a long time that didn’t make you cringe and want to squirm away. Actually his class was the most relaxed you’ve been in, well, ever and the short nap you’d taken was probably the best sleep you’d had in months. You’d almost be willing to give up on going straight home after work if you knew John was going to be at the rec center, maybe you could slip in another meditation workshop?

You want to ask Nina about it, but you also don’t want to give her the wrong idea. If she does have a crush on the guy, it’s probably not great to ask too many questions about John if you want to stay in her good graces. 

“Right,” You try, “yeah his class was great, and I’m, uh, looking forward to Kyle’s class too.” Not your best subject change, but Kyle’s name makes Nina light up.

“Oh yeah, you’re going to love it!” She assures you.

“Yeah, I- yeah,” The attitude shift has you a little stunned, your molasses thoughts stick to your tongue as you try to collect them, “He sent me this huge questionnaire last night, it was really, um, in depth?” You try to remember one of the questions but wading through your mind is difficult with so little sleep.

“Well,” Nina stabs her fork into her salad, you flinch at each punctuating crunch of lettuce, “he has to get to know you, silly, so he can help you.” You stir your curry in jerking motions, for something to occupy your hands. “You can’t pull yourself out of a hole,” Nina tells you with a blank smile, “someone has to throw you a rope.”

-

You were almost happy to get back to work. Kevin chewed you out about taking too long a lunch, and you were probably going to get an ulcer from all the tylenol you took, but you were happy getting away from Nina. She’d chatted your ear off about Kyle and somehow didn’t answer a single one of your questions about him. Not that you had any chance to get a word in edgewise. You couldn’t handle the perky tone in her voice by the time your lunch ended. At least you didn’t have to pay for your own food.

You manage to get Kevin his spreadsheets before five. You still leave the office late and thankless.

You doze on the train home, your head tugging at your neck each time the doors opened, and you barely make it into your house before you’re collapsing on the couch. 

Yeah, you couldn’t have made it to the rec center like this.

You startle awake when your ass starts vibrating. You blearily fumble for your phone  and swipe at the screen, turning off your “call Baby” alarm. You should really delete that.

You toss your phone on the coffee table with a sigh and turn onto your back to stare at the ceiling fan. Ten. You slept for a good couple hours. You’re starving.

And you’re not going to be able to sleep tonight because of this nap.

Great.

-

You consider canceling your registration for Kyle’s class as you sit on the train heading to the rec center. You could just go home. You sort of want to go home, but Cassie had called you this afternoon to confirm your registration and she’d sounded so sad when you’d asked about canceling that you just couldn’t. Also you were pretty sure it was too late to get your money back. So here you were.

At least the rec center is busier than Monday. Cassie had told you the Wednesday meditation was full, maybe this is their busy day. You see people coming in and out, and look for a familiar face in the crowd. You’re hoping to see one of the women you met Monday, but instead your eyes lock on slightly less familiar icy blues.

John smiles at you across the street, and glances both ways before jogging across. You paint on a smile for him, and try not to look like you were avoiding going inside.

“Waiting for someone?” He asks in lieu of greeting. You keep your eyes on his, the creases at the corners of his eyes deepen a little as you stare. 

“No, just-” You search for a normal time killing activity, “-people watching.” John hums and steps to stand beside you. The space he takes up feels enormous, like a black hole sucking up your attention, despite the way he crosses his arms over his chest. You peek at the bulge of his bicep against the dark shirt he’s wearing, the stiff fabric stretching to accommodate more man that it was made for. You would’ve expected him in the same comfortable yoga clothes as he was wearing Monday, but this feels more formal. He’s wearing slacks. And oxfords. 

“It’s intimidating,” He tells you out of the blue after a moment of silence. Your eyes dart to his face, and your confusion must be all too clear because he chuckles. The deep throaty noise of it makes your stomach clench. “Letting people help,” He fills in, “choosing peace.”

You make a face.

And John touches you.

His hand slides, big and warm, over your back. His fingers spread wide and he leans into your space like he might pull you closer, except you suddenly feel rooted in place. Fear shoots through you, anxiety punctuating your breaths unnecessarily. You fix your face quickly, tamp down the surge of adrenaline that makes you want to run. John isn’t doing anything but looking at you, his smile the same placid thing even as his brows twitch in concern.

“Sorry,” You find yourself apologizing, trying to unlock some of the stiffness in your shoulders, “I’m not used to people touching me.”

“It’s a natural response,” John doesn’t move his hand, his thumb rubs against your back and you feel the unnatural drag of your shirt against your skin like sandpaper, “You’re trying to protect yourself. Silly little thing that people have gotten into their heads these days, that everyone’s out to get them.” He tips his head, and you’re hit with a wave of claustrophobia, the open air seems to sink into you until you’re a single focus point in a tiny void. “Doesn’t that feel awful?” 

His words feel like they’re sinking into you, echoing every thought that bounces through your tensed musculature. It feels awful, you feel like a cornered gazelle, like a lame wildebeest, like a fly trapped in a spider’s net. 

You feel almost pleading the way you must be looking at him. Humiliated to react like this to something so simple.

He smiles brighter and his hand leaves you, you suck in a breath and feel your lungs ache, “That’s why it’s so important to pick apart that distrust, humans are social creatures, made to be connected to each other. All from the same warm pool, yeah?”

You nod. John nods his head towards the rec center.

“Let me walk you in, you’re here for Gaz’s class right?”

“No, um, Kyle’s.” You correct.

“Ah,” John laughs, his hand reappears on the small of your back, pushing you forward, “old habit, that’s what we called him in the SAS. You’ll like him, not as touchy as me.” He pulls his hand away with a small apologetic smile, “force of habit.”

“It’s fine,” it’s not, “Everyone around here is so friendly, I just have to get used to it.”

John hums, “Already untangling the web, good girl.”

Your stomach clenches pleasantly. You can see why Nina likes him.

[ellieslittleslutt]

roommates with Vi and Ellie

roommates, vi, ellie, reader

cw: one kiss but not much detail, little angst (sorry), and swearing but i think that’s it

a/n: i’m loosing it so bad this took way too long to write and my motivation is kaput.

wc - 2k

╴╴╴⊹ꮺ˚ ╴╴╴⊹˚ ╴╴╴˚ೃ ╴╴

roommates, notoriously known for stealing food, late rent, bringing girls home. unfortunately yours weren’t any different. you three were close, they were your friends, but they can be absolute dicks.

living with ellie and vi wasn’t the easiest, both of them being top athletes, vi captain of the soccer team and ellie captain of the hockey team they had all the girls crawling and pleading for them, you never saw the appeal only seeing them as friends. yeah they were attractive and vi had nice tattoos and ellie was kinda soft with you— we’re getting off track!

coming home after a long day of classes and lectures you would like to come home to a quiet and calm home. obviously that’s not how it works for those two. opening the door you put down your bag and is immediately greeted with vi in the couch still in her jersey a cute girl in her lap basically tongue fucking each others mouths.

rolling your rates you walk past them towards the kitchen “hey vi” you mumbled and she raised a hand to greet you. you grab yourself a snack and walk away to go find ellie in hopes she is more up for conversation than vi.

opening the door you see her passed out in bed already changed into her pajamas. with a sigh you scoot her over lying down besides her. she groans opening her eyes to look at you “m’ tryna nap” she mumbles shoving her face into her pillow “and i’m trying to ignore vi basically fucking that girl on our couch” you said taking a bite of your cookie scrolling on your phone. “who is it this time?” she asks taking a bite of your cookie. bonking her on the head to stop her and she grumbles pulling away you answer “the brunette one i don’t know her name”

“jasmine i think” ellie says getting comfy to go back to sleep “we’re going out for dinner tomorrow night after vi’s practice if you wnat to join” she mumbles “sure ill meet you at the field” ellie nodded kicking you under the sheets with her feet “now boot i have early practice tomorrow” she huffed and you got up walking out. while walking through the hallway you hear what sounds like yelling.

poking your head out you see the girl, jasmine, yelling at vi then slamming the door shut. once the coast was clear you slowly walked out towards vi “what’s up with her?” you ask watching her rub her hand over her face “called her another girls name on accident” she said muffled by her hand. you chuckled sitting down besides her “you’re such a dick” you said turning on the tv “shut up im tired” she huffed hitting the side of your arm.

you laughed hitting her away “you should just do what ellie does” you said taking a bite of the cookie “sleep all day and some how pass?” she asks looking o er at you “well no find a girl and stick with her.” “yeah then get cheated on by said girl and never trust one again?” she said deadpanning uou “shut up shes my. hold and she’s sensitive” you said with a fake pout.

you were always. protective of her since the break up keeping her in check and not letting her spiral, joking you were like her mom always taking care of her since she didn’t have one.

“so dinner?” you ask “yup you coming?” she asks “are you paying?” you chuckle “if it’s above $20 dollars no” “deal.”

╴╴╴⊹ꮺ˚ ╴╴╴⊹˚ ╴╴╴˚ೃ ╴╴

walking down the field with an umbrella since the rain was brutal today. walking up to the bleachers you find ellie watching vi her hood pulled up over her head to protect from the rain. sitting down beside her you share the umbrella with her “your hood won’t do shit in this rain” you mumbled and watching vi. “thanks” she said putting her head down on your shoulder and you passed her a small snack you always kept on you.

“i swear it’s like marry popping bag” she mumbles eating the small bag of chips “i only have so much stuff because you two constantly need something from me” she chuckled stuffing the snack in her mouth “thank you mom” she teases “you’re welcome child.”

waiting for vi to emerge from the locker room is like waiting for water to boil. she only claims she takes forever because she needs to get her hair right, i mean it is worth it in the end she does have nice hair but she’s probably also just taking her sweet time in there. ellie getting impatient and hungry bangs on the door with her fist “hurry up we’re hungry!” she calls out through the door.

the door unlocks and via drying her hair with a towel scoffing at you two “geez can you guys learn some patience?” she asks rhetorically. “nope” you smiled sitting down on the counter ellie jointing you waiting. “so where is this restaurant?” you ask kicking your legs “uhhhh somewhere around here” vi says putting her earrings back in. looking over at her raising an eyebrow “dude have you even picked where to go yet?” you ask kicking at her leg.

“ow! and no we could just figure it out” she shrugs and ellie groans next to you “v im starving i don’t wnat to walk around searching for somewhere to eat” she stares down at her feet with a frown. “we could go to the new place that opened up, they have chicken strips so that’s ellie meal down” you said looking over at vi and she nods “yeah that sounds good”

╴╴╴⊹ꮺ˚ ╴╴╴⊹˚ ╴╴╴˚ೃ ╴╴

walking around in the city you look around at all the lights and cars the cold nipping at your cheeks while you follow ellie who is crowned with the navigation title. “should be around this corner… and here we are”

looking inside at the tables it seems busy but there might be a chance of eating there. walking in vi goes to the hostess stand smiling at them “hey table for three” she says using her charm to make the wait quicker. coming back to you guys she grins at you two “used my charm i got us a wait of 5 minutes” she said proudly.

you and ellie both look unimpressed with her “charm? really?” you said with a chuckle and ellie nudges your shoulder “she slipped her a ten dollar bill i saw” she says looking at vi and she scoffs “nuh uh it was purely charm.” she says in mock offense. you chuckled patting her shoulder as the waiter takes you to your table “keep dreaming.”

the hostess sits you down at a booth and you three shuffle in vi sitting by you ellie infront. scrolling through the menu you frowned trying to look for something “els what are you getting?” you pipe up from the silence and she glances at you already down choosing now just on her phone “oh uh i just got the chicken strips like you said” she mumbles cheeks getting a bit pink.

vi giggled a bit always making fun of her for eating like a toddler earning herself a kick to the shin causing her to slam her knee up into the table other tables looking at you guys. you glare at the two sighing “can’t take you shits anywhere” these bitches we’re still giggling.

vi orders and burger and you were still stuck on what to choose. you could go with your favorite or try something new but scared you won’t like it. vi pats your shoulder encouraging you to stick with what you like and don’t waste the food. it was really because it was cheaper and after all she was paying.

╴╴╴⊹ꮺ˚ ╴╴╴⊹˚ ╴╴╴˚ೃ ╴╴

as the food came out so did the drinks and it was safe to say you ended up getting a bit tipsy along with vi dragging her out to dance her arms on your hips and yours around her neck swaying along with her while walking watched from the booth awkwardly.

“i like your nose piercing” you mumbled poking it and she chuckled “yeah?” she asks squeezing your hips a bit and you nodded “mhm.” “well i quite loke your eyes” she said softly leaning closer. you have to lean upwards a bit getting closer “nothing special, just eyes” you smile batting your lashes at her.

her gaze focuses on your lips and back to your ways then your lips before crashing them in to meet yours a surprised hum coming from you before your drunken mind morphs into it kissing her back.

ellie watched her stomach almost sinking watching her best friends kiss. she hated it, yes you were allowed to do whatever you wanted but she couldn’t help but frown at it her eyes getting a little glassy looking back down at her hands.

you were her emotional support, best friend and almost parental figure. she was five steps ahead over thinking it all.

if you got with vi you couldn’t spend as much time with her anymore and loose her friend, what if you guys move out and she’s alone what then— “hey ellie”

your voice snaps her out of it grabbing your purse vi standing behind you “let’s head home alright?” ellie could just nod following you two home not wanting to think about what’s happening in vi’s room while she stays staring at the ceiling in bed.

╴╴╴⊹ꮺ˚ ╴╴╴⊹˚ ╴╴╴˚ೃ ╴╴

what. the. fuck.

you woke up the next morning in vi’s room naked and her arm slung around your waist while she snores. a pounding headache throbs against your temples and eyes and you got dressed, pulling on one of vi’s shirts and your underwear you walking out into the kitchen to get some coffee where you spot ellie sitting at the table working on some paper. she didn’t look up at you keeping her eyes glued to her laptop.

you knew something was wrong by the way she avoided you in a way, shuffling away when you sat by her or ignoring your mumbled good morning. sitting down infront of her sipping your mug you tilt your head looking at her when she speaks up “have fun last night?” she asks her tone emotionless.

eyes widening connecting the dots on it all you groan rubbing your forehead “els it was a mistake” you said apologetically but she doesn’t take it “you’re wearing her shirt slept in her bed with her… are you two like what, hooking up or some shit behind my back”

“no els look it was one time and i would tell you—“ “would you?” ellie says sharply looking at you raising an eye brow. your mouth slightly open you struggle for words “i-.. y-yes! yes of course i would” you were almost pleading for her to forgive you. she just scoffed getting up shutting her laptop walking back to her room with no other words.

vi coming out of her room pulling a shirt on rubbing the back of her neck awkwardly while you were fiddling with your hair tugging it a bit a nervous habit. vi pulls your hand off “you’re gonna go bald if you keep doing that” she says softly.

mumbling a sorry you lean against the counter looking down at your feet. “ellie’s pissed with me because of us sleeping together.” you voice was lower and a lot slower like you were still processing it all.

vi hums making herself a coffee “i can talk to her if you want… don’t really want to but i will” you shook your heard fiddling with your top “i’ll talk to her later just… i don’t know i’ll figure it out”

╴╴╴⊹ꮺ˚ ╴╴╴⊹˚ ╴╴╴˚ೃ ╴╴

a/n: so this might be shit but i don’t have the energy to care and i rewrote this 5 times already sooooo

taglist: @myrruwrites @tloudani @nanasemo @nombreuxx

[twstfanblog]

Hello I have a request, if you aren't doing requests please ignore this! But anyways the request is that may I have the TWST characters (especially the housewardens) and how would they react see their s/o in like traditional clothing from their world (example: Chinese traditional clothing is like qipao) Thank you so much! Have a fabulous day 💝

Qipao (Traditional & Modern) Reactions

Housewardens x Reader

Riddle

Traditional

Thinks the dress is beautiful. Even though it's loose, it still carries an air of professionalism. A perfect garment for his lovely rose. Really likes the modest nature of them.

Asks you lots of questions on the history of the garment if you know it. Ask if he could wear one as well. Just so many questions, he's pulled out a notebook to take notes.

Matching rose patterned qipao/tang suit for walks in the garden together!

Modern

WHY IS THE SLIT SO HIGH!?

Still thinks it's a very pretty dress, but he can not stop looking at the thigh slit. It compels him. Good lord, you're not even wearing tights!

Struggling to remain polite, but the dress is form fitting and you have a very lovely ass- excuse him, he needs to...be...out of the public eye.

Leona

Traditional

Jokingly calls it your fancy potato sack. Apologizes if you get actually mad at him calling it that.

Lowkey, he really likes it and does enjoy that it's still comfortable enough for you to nap with him. Half serious asks if they're pajamas.

Will start wearing Dashikis when you wear your qipao. Cultural matching ❤️

Modern

AYO-

Goes dead silent, his eyes are watching your every move. The dress is tight, the slit is mid thigh. You look good and he's pissed you're not in grabbing distance.

Tells you you can't wear that qipao outside of his room. Not even Ramshackle. Now walk closer, he's gonna...grab ya.

Azul

Traditional

Fascinated and asking questions. Both about the cultural history and the manufacturing side.

Thinks it's a very lovely dress with high marketing potential; simple yet perfect for all class levels due to the fabric and embroidery you can make with.

Lowkey wants to gift you some more because he just likes them so much and he thinks you look elegant in them (Be his spouse please).

Modern

Honestly, it took him a hot minute to really notice. Since modern qipaos are made to be so fancy, he first started picking it apart to discern value like he does all new things.

Really noticed the silhouette and how revealing it was once he looked at the chest area and saw how tight it was.

Compliments the dress but then says he has important business to do. No, he will NOT stand up-

Kalim

Traditional

OH! You look so pretty! You always look pretty, but the qipao just makes you look EXTRA pretty like every other thing you wear.

He's breaking down the outfir by the quality of fabric alone. He pouts it's not 100% some super rare silk that only grows in 4 parts of the world in Spring during the rain on a full moon.

Whining at you and Jamil to let him make so many qipaos. He will have a literally factory up and running by mid day just to make you more of these gorgeous slips so that you're always cozy.

Modern

Nearly ruins it doing a spit take at seeing you. The boy is too stunned to speak, mouth open and getting coconut juice all over his front.

Once he snaps out of it he's all smiles again and asking you to show it off. Do a spin! The fabic is so pretty when you twirl, can you dance in it!? Come dance with him!

Lowkey just way too excited about you being in them. Fills him with some kind of energy where he just wants to hold you and spin around with you. Keeps fighting himself to not get down on one knee.

Vil

Traditional

'Oh?'

Interested in them but has his complaints (as always). He doesn't like how they hang shapeless, but the positives manage to outweigh the negatives in its function and appearance. Over all thinks its a cute house dress design and that you look nice in them.

Ends up commissioning some silk qipaos to have as lounge wear. Being comfortable, yet ready to host is an amazing new option he's gained.

Modern

'OH!?'

More complaints but it's because the dress is so sexy. It's too tight, the slit shows too much thigh, the boob window is unnecessary. He won't stop complaining but lowkey is so FLUSTERED.

He keeps tugging and picking at the outfit like he isn't pulling you into his lap to mutter into your neck all his frustrations on having such an attractive partner.

Idia

Traditional

Almost didnt really notice because he was showing you something in his game. Once he does notice he remarks on how nice you look.

Honestly, doesn't say much about it but will take notice if you wear them a lot when you go see him. He'll ask about them, asks if you really like them. He can and will buy you a bunch of them in various colors and patterns.

He does get you matching ones of your mains in the current MMO he's dragged you into. Lazy cosplaying for the win.

Modern

He took one look and froze, only unfroze because he started dying in game.

How could you do this? Why have you come into his room looking SEXY and forced him to look at you? What do you think hes gonna do???? Rip your clothes off and throw you on the bed????

He keeps peeking at you then turning away with his hair giving away just how flustered he is. Still manages to stutter out how nice you look.

Malleus

Traditional

Oh look at this. His lovely child of man is in new clothing. Please give him the entire history on the garment.

Lowkey, I think he'd really like them. It's very simple but with the potential of being super fancy just with easy fabric choices and embroidery.

Compliments you all the time when he sees you wearing one. Asks if only certain people can wear them. Do you think he'd look good in one? Just really likes them.

Modern

"...So, would you like a Summer wedding?"

This a dangerous game. He loves you so much already, but now you show him how attractive you are in tight clothing that shows off your skin? He will marry you, he will marry you so fast.

Lowkey rips it on accident, and apologies for hours. God forbid if you got one with a dragon winding around you. He honeslty got a little territorial and that's why his claws got caught on the stitching...

[n7cloacadestroyer]

Here’s the thing: The reason that people say Ashley is racist is because of ME2.

ME2 is the game that shifts the trilogy into a character driven story. Loyalty missions are required for the best ending, for one thing. Every character gets a fully voiced side mission with unique cutscenes and characters, and they are firmly the center of the narrative.

Ashley portrays her apprehension for aliens in ME1 as a sour grapes sort of scenario due to her family history. What she leaves out (because presumably Commander Shepard would know this, although the player might not) is that the Turians committed war crimes not seen since the Krogan rebellions to secure Shanxi—orbital bombardment using fusion torches and asteroids. They Bring Down the Sky’d civilians during first contact, most likely because humanity was not a yet a citadel species, and therefore was not explicitly covered by contemporary citadel regulations. Their occupation of the colony, although short-lived, was brutal enough that by the time that Mass Effect 2 rolls around, the Turian Hierarchy is considering a second dispersal of reparations to the survivors and families of those at Shanxi.

Ashley’s dislike of Turians and their government is well justified. The fact that it bleeds over into mistrust of other aliens isn’t right, but it’s sort of understandable. The problem is that you won’t know that without supplementary material, be that the in-game codex, the novels, the comics, etc.

In ME2, instead of getting her own side mission that might actually explain or develop this element of her character, she instead gets a quick and dirty character assassination on Horizon. One that actually sort of makes sense given that all of your Shepard’s dialogue options in that cutscene more or less stick up for Cerberus. We’re not given the much more reasonable choice of telling them that this is a very temporary “enemy of my enemy” situation.

The majority of ME3 focuses on the broken trust between Shepard and Ashley for that character assassination I mentioned earlier, and doesn’t really address any of her ME1 conflicts at all.

So a relatively common scenario for many players is this:

-Has initial conversation with Ashley, her prejudice puts a bad taste in their mouth.

-bad taste is often reinforced because it’s very easy to accidentally trigger a romance in ME1, and Ashley is very aggressive toward Liara in the “pick one” cutscene.

-having a bad taste for her already, player forgoes putting Ashley in their party. She has no tech or biotic abilities (heavily beneficial traits for squadmates), so it is relatively easy to do this regardless of your class selection. Since ME1 doesn’t have (real) loyalty missions, you have no reason to ever take her with you again.

-bad taste further enforced if player fails to convince Wrex.

-ME2 does nothing to alleviate these issues and indeed makes them a good deal worse

And thus her fate is more or less sealed in the player’s mind because ME3 does nothing to address problems the player may have had with her in ME1, only those which developed in ME2. And if you didn’t like her in ME1, you’re probably not going to put her in your team in ME3 because she’s also mechanically one of the worst squad mates.

This is part of a larger problem with the narrative structure of ME2, but it affects both Virmire Survivors most blatantly.

For example, MShenko in ME3 is actually one of the better written romances in the entire trilogy, but most people will never know that in large part due to how poorly ME2 does its narrative job as a sequel.

Ah yes, the mass effect trilogy squad members:

Cute blue scientist girl who inadvertently becomes a mafia boss

Former cop who can't WAIT to do vigilante justice but he's nice so it's hard to hate him

Bounty hunter who becomes the greatest leader his people have ever known (if he doesn't die)

Guy with psychic powers whose most interesting trait is that he gets headaches

Racist soldier lady (many such cases)

Cute engineer girl who dies if you sneeze on her

Genetically engineered super model genius

Guy with daddy issues whose most interesting trait is that he cheats on you if you romance him

Bald girl with tattoos who kills you

Unethical Science McGee but he's in denial that he feels bad about it and also he has ADHD

Basically Captain America if he was a klingon

Really Old Guy In A Profession Where Most Die Young

Lizard assassin who has a lot of flashbacks

Thief girl with barely any screentime

Hot paladin mommy who kills vampires but in space???

A bunch of computer programs in a single guy

Guy with muscles whose most interesting trait is that he's Spanish

Your ship's computer in a cool robot body (this is awesome)

Guy who went into cryo sleep during one war only to wake up in another war (this guy's life sucks ass)

[marauder-misprint]

Gryffindor Wins

Series Masterlist

Sirius Black x Fem!Slytherin!reader

3.5k words

cw: fluff, drinking, smoking

Your ability to pay attention significantly decreases in three classes during the week. Charms, Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts. Sirius’ presence in a room is more distracting than it ever had been. Apparently, when you are trying to figure out how you feel about someone, they take up more space in your brain. It wasn’t like he was doing anything different than before, besides an occasional glance your way followed by a grin when he found you already looking at him. 

Pandora leans her head on your shoulder during Charms and instinctively, you rest your head on top of hers.

“You’ve been looking at him every five minutes all lesson,” she whispers.

“I know.”

“Why?”

You hum, looking over at Sirius again. He’s whispering to Peter. Peter nods along with a slight frown on his face. You’re curious at what they could be discussing in the middle of Professor Flitwick’s lecture.

“Just thinking, I suppose,” you respond to Pandora. 

“About… him?” 

You are about to answer when Flitwick calls, “Ladies! Please pay attention!”

You and Pandora sit up straight with muttered apologies. You give Sirius another quick glance. He’s also now sitting up straighter, no longer talking with Peter whose face is crimson. You and Pandora got a warning. Anyone else not paying attention would likely lose house points. ‘I should not have to tell you students to pay attention in your lessons,’ Flitwick had said in the past. 

So, Pandora’s question didn’t get answered, but judging by the way your eyes still drifted over to Sirius five more times before Flitwick dismissed the class, you were. You kept thinking back to what he said and what Remus said in the library earlier in the week. Sirius was giddy at the chance of a second date. For a boy known for getting around with the ladies, you wouldn’t expect him to be giddy at the mere potential of a second date. 

When Saturday arrives, you have no intention of getting out of bed before noon. Sure, you had told Sirius to talk to you after the quidditch match, but you never said you’d go to it. It is an 11 a.m. match in December. Your warm, cozy bed in the quiet of your dorm is much more inviting. To you, the choice is clear. You’ll stay in bed until noon, get lunch before everyone comes back from quidditch and if Sirius remembers, he’ll look for you in the library, where you plan to be reading. 

Your plans are thwarted by Dorcas as she throws open your curtains at 10 a.m. 

“Why are you still in your pajamas?” she asks, already dressed with her winter robe draped over her arm. “Do you not want breakfast before heading to the pitch?”

“‘M not going?” you grumble into your pillow.

“Bullshit. You always go. Up and at ‘em! Dress warm! If you’re not in the common room in ten, I will dress you myself!” 

Then she swiftly leaves the dorm, the door banging shut behind her. You lay still for a moment before groaning loudly. And then with every move, you groan again. Throwing the blankets off yourself and getting hit with cold air? Groan. Swinging your legs over the edge of your bed? Groan. Stretching and standing up? Groan and groan. Once dressed and out of the dorm, you groan louder and louder with each step down the stairs into the common room. Dorcas looks ever so pleased with herself when you arrive exactly ten minutes after she left you.

“Shame you didn’t want me to dress you,” she says with a sigh. “Marls gave me extra Gryffindor gear and I know a certain lion would’ve appreciated seeing you rep his house.”

You roll your eyes before looking at Dorcas’ outfit. Entirely Slytherin gear.

“She gave you Gryffindor clothes, yet you’re not wearing them?”

“Never do,” she says, smiling as you walk out of the common room together. “I won’t be seen in Gryffindor scarlet and gold.”

After a quick breakfast, you walk with the rest of the Slytherins to the quidditch pitch. The Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs are being far more energetic than everyone else, as the houses in the match usually are. Your whole group is bundled up to fight against the frigid December air and once you’re up in the stands, you’re fairly certain that you’re not nearly wearing enough. 

Maybe I should’ve doubled up, Gryffindor underneath my Slytherin stuff… 

The thought leaves your head as quickly as it appeared. You knew your face flushed at the thought but no one notices. It’s far too cold. 

“Why am I here? My bed was warm,” you tell Dorcas.

“Because we theoretically like watching quidditch,” she responds with a smile.

“Theoretically.”

Despite the cold, the match is entertaining. Dorcas was right: you do like watching quidditch, even if you personally are rubbish at it. Yet, even with all of the excitement in the air, your eyes keep lingering on the Gryffindor stands. It’s like a magnet, the way it pulls your gaze, and you hate that you know exactly why you keep looking. 

Sirius is standing in the front of the stands with Remus and Peter. The trio is cheering on their fourth member as he passes the quaffle to his teammates, only to have it thrown back to him so he can chuck it through the goals. James was single-handedly leading the Gryffindors to victory; they got so far ahead that they would’ve won even if their seeker didn’t catch the snitch.

The Gryffindor stands erupt in cheers as the Hufflepuffs counter with groans. It seems like within seconds, the entirety of Gryffindor house has left the stands and floods the pitch to greet their players. The Slytherin stands empty much slower. No one is in much of a hurry to face the herd of Gryffindors, despite it still being cold. Eventually, you reach the ground and are able to weave through the slower walkers since you are on a mission to get into the warm castle. As you pass the Gryffindors, you can’t miss Sirius clapping James on the back. Remus and Peter are talking with other Gryffindors.

It’s not until you get inside that you realize you’ve lost your entire group. You figure Dorcas went to congratulate Marlene on the win, but the boys and Pandora are nowhere to be seen. You walk slower. Maybe you just walked too fast in your determination to be able to feel your fingers again. 

Students pass by you. No one pays you attention. You wonder where your friends could have gone off to. Surely you weren’t walking that fast.

Then the face you had been watching for most of the match appears at the end of the corridor. You can’t help the small smile that appears as he makes his way towards you. 

“Congrats on the win,” you say before he pulls you into a hug and spins you around in the middle of the corridor. 

You look baffled when he sets you down. You hadn’t been expecting that from him.

“I didn’t do nothing, but thank you, love!” He’s too cheery to notice your expression. He puts his hands on your shoulders. “We’re celebrating in the common room. I know, I know, parties aren’t really your thing, but I’d love it, adore it, be thrilled, ecstatic, ten thousand and one percent delight if you came.”

You narrow your eyes at him ever so slightly before you consciously soften your expression and tilt your head. 

“Who said parties aren’t my thing?”

His eyes go wide. “Oh, um, dunno? Just heard it somewhere and it makes sense. You always seem to be leaving them.”

“You have to show up to parties to leave them.”

“So, will you come tonight?” He looks so hopeful.

You pause and tap your chin as if you’re putting deep thought into it. Honestly, you are thinking more deeply on who had told him you didn’t like parties, and wondering why that bugged you. 

“Will Dorcas be there?”

He barks a laugh. “Marlene’s on the team, darling. She’ll be there, but if you were hoping to come with her, I’m ‘fraid you might too late for that.”

“She’s already there, isn’t she…”

“Yup.” 

“Then what’s the password? I’ll show up.”

His face lit up, somehow appearing happier than he had looked moments earlier when he spun you around. 

---

The party is in full swing by the time you get there. No one seems to notice the portrait open and close, or if they do, they don’t care. The party is livelier than the previous ones you’ve attended. You found the drink table quickly, glad to have something to hold while you look for people you actually know. You’re not exactly thrilled when the first one you see is Remus. He doesn’t smile when he sees you, but he approaches you all the same. 

“You actually came,” he says coolly. 

“I was personally invited,” you reply just as coolly. 

You knew Remus was looking out for his friend, but you didn’t think that gave him the right to try to push you away from Sirius. Especially when it had been Remus who said you should get to know Sirius. 

Remus doesn’t respond. He turns away from you and disappears into the crowd of students. You frown. You hadn’t minded him too much until now. He was one of the more quieter Gryffindors, yet still quick with a sharp comment or witty remark. And he decided that you weren’t to be trusted because… you were hesitant to go out with Sirius?

You’re pulled out of your thoughts by your name being yelled above the noise of overlapping music and conversations. You look for the source, who is upon you before you could form any kind of reaction.

“I’m so, so, so, so, so, so, so glad you came,” he slurs into your ear, having pulled you into a hug. Sirius appeared to have been celebrating the win for a while. 

You give him a smile when he lets you go.

“You invited me, and despite the rumors, I do like a party.”

“Come on, my friends are over here.”

He grabs your hand and leads you to the other side of the room. Lily, Mary, Peter, James and Remus are having a loud conversation when they come into view. You sigh a breath of relief when you see there’s an open spot next to Lily, which you take. As expected, Sirius sits next to you. You don’t mind that no one really acknowledged your arrival. It means that there are also no comments about how close Sirius was sitting to you. If he had sat down first, you wouldn’t be sitting as close. 

James is retelling portions of the game as if everyone there hadn’t witnessed it first hand only hours ago. You assume that they are all humoring him for the sake of his embellishments and the drinks in their hands. At some point, Marlene and Dorcas appear and stand in the middle of the group. 

“I think it’s truth or dare time!” Marlene announces, holding onto Dorcas for balance.

The group murmurs agreement. 

“Wait, I need a refill!” you say, standing up. “Anyone else need one?”

“If you’re offering!” Peter says, leaning forward to hand you his cup. 

A few more cups get handed to you before Lily offers to help you carry them. While refilling everyone’s cups, you also grab a bottle of firewhiskey from the table.

“So we don’t have to get up again,” you tell Lily and she laughs. 

The group had shifted slightly while you were momentarily gone so that they are sitting in a circle on the ground, taking up more space than before. You and Lily hand out the drinks before taking the spots reserved for you between James and Sirius. It’s decided that the bottle of firewhiskey that you grabbed will be the spinner. Marlene spins it first, declaring that since she suggested the game, it’s only right. It lands on Peter. He picks truth.

“Boo!” Sirius yells at his friend. “Lame way to start!” 

“Have you ever broken a law?” Marlene asks.

“Yes,” Peter answers quickly.

The way he’s staring at Marlene tells everyone that he’s telling the truth. 

“Wait, what?” Lily gasps. “What did you do?”

Peter shakes his head, laughing. “That wasn’t my question.”

You swear the girls are freaking out about it more than the boys. The four of them are just laughing and trying not to choke on their drinks when they think they’ve composed themselves enough to take a sip. Peter spins the bottle and it lands on Mary. You lose track of how many times the Gryffindors have spun the bottle. It doesn’t land on you for a while. Instead, you get to enjoy the secrets and stupid actions of Sirius and his friends. You finish your second drink and open the firewhiskey to fill your cup. 

“Our spinner!” Marlene whines.

“I’m giving it back,” you say sweetly, placing it back in the middle once the top was secured again. 

“Humph.” 

Marlene spins the bottle and it lands on you.

“How fitting!” Dorcas laughs.

“Truth,” you say. You weren’t sure you were up for the kind of dares they were handing out. 

“Who was your first Hogwarts-crush?” Marlene giggles. 

Immediately, you start laughing. In retrospect, it is funny. At least, to you it is.

“Well?” Lily asks, nudging you.

You take a second to compose yourself so you can wheeze out, “Evan Rosier.”

“Isn’t he-” Mary starts.

“Dating Junior?” you finish for her, your laughter taking over yourself again. “Yes, yes he is.”

After a minute, you spin the bottle and it lands on Lily. 

“Hmm… Truth.”

“What’s the longest you’ve gone without showering?”

“I think a week? My family went camping so it wasn’t an option,” she says and goes to spin the bottle.

The game goes on. James hugs a second year and tells him that he’s going to do great things. Dorcas reveals what she thinks her biggest red flag is. Peter finishes his drink and then throws his cup across the room. Dorcas, having gotten spun again, licks the bottom of Marlene’s foot and proceeds to gag. Lily, James, Remus, Mary, Marlene, James yet again and then Sirius. 

“Truth.” 

“Merlin, y’all are picking so many truths!” Mary complains.

“Please, it’s James. I don’t need to be stripping down to my boxers right now,” Sirius defends his choice. 

“But you could be,” James says with a wink.

“No. Truth me, mate!”

“What would you rate your kissing style?”

Sirius cocks his head. “Like on a scale of 1-10? 10, obviously.”

You roll your eyes. Then you turn to where you think the music is coming from. It’s your favorite song. You slam the rest of your drink before jumping up. You hold your hand out to Sirius.

“Love this song. Let’s dance!”

He grins at you as he takes your hand, letting you pull him into the crowd of people dancing. It doesn’t take long before you decide you’re far enough away from the group. You’re chest-to-chest with Sirius as bodies seem to be pushing on you from all sides. Sirius, having sobered up slightly, is timid in his dancing for a moment. He takes in the grin on your face, how bright your eyes are and the way you’re singing along to the song at the top of your lungs without a care in the world. When the song changes, he finds the confidence to put his hands on your waist and you move closer to him. His breath catches in his throat. He doesn’t mind you this close, but it still throws him off for a moment. 

After a few more songs, you put an arm around Sirius’ neck to pull his face down closer to yours. He stops breathing for a moment. Is this it? Were you going to kiss him?

“I need air!” you say into his ear to ensure that he hears you. 

“Oh, okay,” he replies quickly, hoping you don’t see the flash of disappointment on his face. 

He follows you out of the common room. You pass Remus and smile at him. You can’t help but notice he looks out of place standing at the edge of the common room, no longer taking part in any of the festivities. But right now, you don’t care about him. You had alcohol flowing in your veins, a pretty boy following you and the high of a good party. Remus reaches out to stop Sirius once you pass him.

“Padfoot,” Remus warns in a low voice.

“Moony,” he replies, his voice just as low. “I’m going with her.”

“You look like a lovesick puppy.”

Sirius pulls his arm out of his friend’s grip. “And so what if I am?”

Remus shakes his head with a sigh. “Make sure it’s reciprocated before you get hurt.”

Sirius rolls his eyes before heading out of the portrait. You’re waiting for him, leaning against the stone wall with your eyes shut. The quiet and coldness outside of the common room is refreshing. You open your eyes when you hear the portrait close.

“Got those cigarettes?” you ask with a sly smile.

“Always.” He pats his pants’ pocket.

“Good.” 

Your smile grows as you grab his arm to stabilize yourself. Your smile directed at Sirius plus the way you’re holding onto him makes him feel like he’s on cloud nine. This is something he could get used to. If he could get you to do it without being drunk, that is. 

He lets you lead the way to the Astronomy Tower, not that he would’ve chosen anywhere else to go. Sirius has to support your weight more when you reach the metal stairs near the top. Why did alcohol make students seek out the tallest tower in all of the castle? He supposes it has the best aura to it, especially when drunk. 

You take your place at the railing, holding your hand out for one of the cigarettes. 

“I thought you didn’t smoke, or drink,” he teases, handing you one and lighting it for you once it’s in your mouth.

“Oh, I don’t,” you say with a smirk. 

You stand in silence for a while, each with your own cigarette this time. There’s no taking turns, no brief touches of fingers, no risk of accidentally dropping it in the hand off. 

Then Sirius points to the sky.

“There’s the Leo constellation, so Regulus is… right… there…”

You hum and he traces his hand across the sky.

“And there I am, in Canis Major.”

You giggle. “You’re right here.” You poke his shoulder. “In the Astronomy Tower.” He looks down at you and you poke his nose. “With me.”

He pokes your nose. “I think you had too much.”

You hum again. “Maybe so. But you’ll get me back to the dungeons alright.” You said it so confidently. 

You rest your head on Sirius’ shoulder as you stare up at the stars. You had taken Astronomy with Sirius for five years; had you been sober, you might’ve scolded him for thinking you didn’t know your constellations and the stars that were his and his brother’s namesakes. But you weren’t sober so the nice moment between you got to exist untainted. 

“Yes ma’am,” Sirius says in response to your assertion that he’ll escort you to your common room. 

Which he does. When you’re ready to go, you take his hand and interlock your fingers. Something blooms in your chest as you do so, but you don’t think anything of it. Sirius has to remind himself several times that you aren’t sober. If you were, he might’ve stopped to kiss you right then and there. Instead, he makes sure you get back to the Slytherin Dungeon. Having sobered up a bit in the evening air, you’re less reliant on him for balance but you hold his hand the entire way down. You mumble the password and the door to the Slytherin Common Room appears. You open the door, take a step and turn back to Sirius as you stand in its threshold. You have a dumb smile on your face. 

“You are pretty, Sirius. Handsome, dashing, attractive. And a good time.” You pause, laughing to yourself briefly. “Maybe I should write to you over break.”

You hum and disappear into the common room, leaving Sirius dumbstruck in the corridor as the door vanishes. He knows he should move quickly. He needs to get back to Gryffindor Tower unless he wants to get caught out of bed after hours while smelling like alcohol. But he can’t bring himself to move. He stares at the empty wall where the door had been. He makes a mental note to take you on another real date before everyone leaves for break in a little over a week. A real date where you were sober and could maybe admit that you were a Sirius person.

tags: @2dloveshp, @yearninglustfully, @made-for-oliverwood, @ilovejamespottersomuch, @hisparentsgallerryy, @itsseaberri, @corawithfanfiction, @devilslittlehelper, @jllyunn, @barnes70stark,

tags: @crowleythesexydemon, @flow33didontsmoke, @navs-bhat, @louweenier, @l0g0phobe,

@ellouisa17, @theendofthematerialgworl, @marina468, @bmyva1entine, @ravisinghs-wife

Love me some late night chats on the Astronomy Tower

[luvingtsumu]

𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐓 𖥔 ࣪˖ ( MIYA ATSUMU X FEM!READER )

noticing small changes is difficult at first, but when they start becoming so visible it’s hard to not overthink stuff, but miya atsumu definitely wasn’t in love with you, right? even when it was painfully obvious.

★ genre: fluff | content: friends to lovers, fluff, jealousy, actions speaking louder than words.

★ author’s note: now that i have a job i’ve been buying a lot of atsumu merch, i’m gonna end up broke.

O1 . BACKPACK

You and Atsumu always played rock, paper, scissors after school to decide who was carrying the backpacks, usually, you were the loser, and he always made sure to rub it in your face.

He was lazy, he never wanted to carry anyone’s backpacks, especially not yours; so this rock, paper, scissors game worked perfectly for him —since he already knew you always picked scissors first.

“I won again!” he said, sticking his tongue out at you.

“Not fair! Let’s play again.” you crossed your arms over your chest, glaring at him.

“C’mon, we already played 3 times, yer a loser.” he said, throwing his backpack at you.

You catch it with both hands, groaning slightly as you glared at him.

“Oh, come on! My back hurts today.” you complained “I fell on my back today.”

“Ya fell?” he laughed.

“Fucking Kino threw the ball at me way too hard! That was a hate crime.” he laughed again so you hit him on the shoulder “Shut up!”

“Sorry, sorry.” he smiled “Does it hurt or what?”

“A little bit.”

“Are ya that weak? Geez, no wonder why yer always tired in p.e. class.” he snickered.

“You know I hate you?” you rolled your eyes, placing his backpack on your shoulder.

“I figured.” he stole his and your backpack from your hands, placing them over his shoulders.

You looked at him with a confused look before smirking, he scoffed and looked away.

“‘m only gonna take ‘em today, cause yer hurt, alright?”

That was the first time that Atsumu, on his own willing, carried your backpack for you.

Then there was a second time.

Then a third one.

And suddenly you realize that now you barely carried your backpack after school. At first you were happy about that, and teased him about being your servant, but then you started to feel a bit bad cause he was always carrying your stuff; and even when you insisted on helping, he would brush you off.

“Yer too week, I don’t want yer back to get hurt.”

“I already have it on me.”

“Don’t complain, ‘m helpin’ ya.”

You thought it was weird that he was acting so nice, but you figured maybe he changed his ways and wanted to be nicer, besides, it was great not having to carry your heavy backpack; so you finally let it happen with no complaints.

O2 . FOOD

Atsumu absolutely hated when people ate his food, he didn’t even let his own brother grab a cookie from his lunch.

Either way, you didn’t cared if he didn’t liked it, you always found a way to steal a bit of his food, and he was always loud when you did it, calling you names and pulling your arms so you wouldn’t get to steal another onigiri.

You were used to that, and still, you didn’t even noticed when that changed. It started small and it was easy to not notice a change, but soon enough his brother pointed out how Atsumu didn’t got mad at you anymore when you stole his food, he didn’t budged and just gave you a small glance before going back to eating.

You thought about it for a bit and decided to test it, grabbing some of his tuna when he was just about to eat it.

“Hm, this one doesn’t taste that good as the one you brought yesterday.” you said after swallowing the food.

He looked between you and the tuna, then he started eating without budging “Yeah, ‘samu did the one yesterday.”

“That explains it, you’re a terrible cook.” he glared at you, making you chuckle “Respectfully.”

You noticed him rolling his eyes, but you got nothing more than that after stealing his food; so you decided to ask him to see if his reaction would change.

“Can I have some of your chips, ‘tsumu?”

“Open ‘em.” he said, handing you the bag of chips “Just make sure no one else eats ‘em.” and with that, he continued eating.

You gave him a weird look, raising and eyebrow.

You were so used to him yelling at you that it felt strange that he wasn't doing it. For some reason, it made you feel guilty, again. It felt better to steal food from him and have him yelling at you, rather than him handing it to you.

“You know what? I’m not hungry.” you said, handing him the bag of chips “Thanks though.”

That was the last time you attempted to eat from his food, unless he vocally expressed he wanted to share his food from you.

He even looked bothered by the fact you weren’t stealing his food anymore, but your best friend loved his food, so you sure were imagining things.

O3 . TWINS

Even if Atsumu and Osamu fought all the time, they were still brothers, they were still twins. They still told everything to each other —even if they pretended to not listen—, and they still wanted to help each other.

So even if you tried to stop yourself from overthinking, it wasn’t an easy task. You felt like the twins knew something about you that not even you knew. It was weird, of course, but it felt like they were working against you or about you.

They would whisper at each other when you passed by them, and you always saw them sharing looks when you hung out with them. To be honest, you felt left out, it felt like you were missing something.

Normally, you would tell the twins about your current concern, but in this case, they were the current concern, so you decided to rely on Aran.

“Don’t mind them.” he waved his hand in the air “They’re always all weird, same thing happened to me and turns out they just admired me a lot.” he smirked.

You chuckled “I don’t think they admire me, Aran, it’s easier to think they despise me.”

“You’re their best friend, they don’t hate you.” he assured you “They’re better than that.”

Aran’s words were reassuring, and you decided to stop focusing on the topic and let the twins do their own stuff.

Even when Osamu asked you weird and too specific questions about your love life.

Or when he suddenly canceled on plans last minute, making you and Atsumu stay alone.

Or when he exchanged weird looks with Atsumu whenever you spoke about boys.

All just coincidence’s.

O4 . JEALOUSY

“Me ‘nd ‘samu we’re talkin’ the other day…” he took a bite of his burger “‘nd it would be pretty cool to go to the beach this weekend.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full.” you chuckled, before sighing “The beach?”

He swallowed his food as he nodded “Yeah! The weather has been nice this past days.”

“I can’t this weekend.” you took a sip of your drink, watching his expression grow confused.

“What? Why?”

“I have plans with Kino and Shinji. Although I don’t think Shinji is gonna make it, so just me and Kino.”

Atsumu’s eyebrows visibly raised as he listened to your words. You continued eating, unaware of the way Atsumu’s stomach did a flip.

“Why are ya goin’ with them anyway?” he mumbled as he took a very small bite of his almost finished burger.

You scoffed “What do you mean why? They’re my friends.” you smiled.

“I thought they were just dudes in yer classroom.”

“No.” you chuckled “I’m actually friends with them, even when they’re a pain in the ass. I’m actually closer to Kino.” you said, thinking out loud.

Atsumu’s jaw clenched as he wrapped up what was left of the burger and threw it in the trash can.

“Weekends are for me, tho…” he said without thinking, quickly changing his words “—‘nd for ‘samu too.”

“Oh, come on, for one weekend that I don’t spend time with you? You’ll survive.”

Atsumu grumbled “I guess.”

Atsumu zoned out for a few seconds, deep in thought until he finally turned to see you.

“Isn’t Kino the guy ya went to eat with the other day?”

“Yeah, you remember him?” you smiled.

“Yeah. I actually do.”

Of course he did, Osamu is friends with one of Kino’s close friends, and he told Osamu that Kino had a big, fat crush on you. Of course he did. But you were his girl, his! How dare this other man disterup his precious time with you.

“Enjoy yer time with him, or whatever.” he sighed, rubbing the side of his neck as he tried to ease the feeling inside of him.

“I will.” you chuckled “We can go to the beach other day.”

“Sure.”

He didn’t understand why he was feeling like this, so bitter about you having other friendships besides him, other guys that liked you like he did —or maybe not like he did, cause he definitely liked you more than any ordinary guy ever will.

O5 . TEXTS AND CALLS

Your phone vibrated with a notification, and you knew who it was even before you turned on your screen.

Atsumu, of course it was him.

Normally you couldn’t have a single conversation with him over text, since he was barely on his phone, always studying, training or playing some game with Osamu. He never checked his texts and it was a real challenge to try to get in contact with him during summer break cause he never answered.

You always told him it was like talking to a wall, truly, and he always scoffed and told you he was a busy man with a busy life.

But now all of that had changed, cause suddenly now he had so much time, apparently. Always texting you every time he wanted and could, spaming your phone. You two even did calls when he walked back home or when he went to the convenience store.

You didn’t knew when it changed, but you weren’t complaining. It was like having a puppy begging for attention 24/7. Kinda fun.

[ 9:20 p.m. ] i found a cat on the way back home and it fucking bit me

[ 9:20 p.m. ] i mean, the AUDACITY

[ 9:21 p.m. ] and also, i bought you some of those chips you wanted the other day, the disgusting ones 🥰

[ 9:21 p.m. ] yeah, i know, i’m the best. don’t thank me too much, it was all me

[ 9:21 p.m. ] also, APPARENTLY you don’t put spoons on the microwave, never knew that huh

[ 9:23 p.m. ] are you gonna answer or what

[ 9:23 p.m. ] HELLOOOO??????

[ 9:26 p.m. ] do you hate me or what

[ 9:30 p.m. ] YOU’RE LITERALLY ONLINE

[ 9:30 p.m. ] WHO ARE YOU ANSWERING TO 😐😐

[ 9:31 p.m. ] why won’t you answer meeeee

[ 9:40 p.m. ] what did i do? are you mad at me and that’s why you’re not answering?

[ 9:40 p.m. ] tell me and i’ll apologize

[ 9:40 p.m. ] i’ll get on my knees

[ 9:41 p.m. ] if i get a tattoo of your name on my whole chest will you forgive me and speak to me again?

[ 10:00 p.m. ] i was taking a bath. WHAT

[ 10:00 p.m. ] HEY OMG YOU DON’T HATE ME :3

[ 10:01 p.m ] cringe. and i do hate you

[ 10:01 p.m ] also, did your microwave exploded or what?

[ 10:02 p.m. ] i wasn’t aware of microwave instructions ok, leave me alone

[ 10:04 p.m ] you stupid

You chuckled to yourself as Atsumu started spamming even more texts. It was fun.

Soon enough you got a call, and you know you two were probably gonna fall asleep on the phone once again.

O6 . PHYSICAL TOUCH

Atsumu was a sucker for physical touch, you knew that since you became friends with him. He was always bothering everyone, grabbing their hands, ruffling their hair, hugging them, any way that provided him physical touch worked for him!

It was something you were used to but not something you were always expecting, and also you were sure he wasn’t expecting any from you. Or so you thought, cause lately he’s been kinda whiny about it.

“So, see you tomorrow.” you waved at him as you closed your door after he dropped you off.

You went calmly upstairs, dropping your things in bed and then going to open the curtains and— there he was. Standing in front of the door with his arms crossed.

You raised an eyebrow and opened the window, yelling at him “The hell you’re doing?”

He looked up at you, huffing and then looking down again.

You rolled your eyes and closed your window again before making your way downstairs to see what he needed.

“What, weirdo?” you opened the door, just to see him pouting.

“Ya forgot to hug me goodbye.” he spoke through his teeth.

“Hug you goodbye?” you said with amusement.

“Yeah.” he looked down at him “Ya hate me or somethin’? Ya always hug me before ya leave.”

“Oh, my bad, king.” you mocked, before opening your arms and pulling him for a hug.

He whined but soon enough his arms wrapped around your waist, head buried into your shoulder.

You chuckled as you rolled your eyes, hands rubbing his back, feeling every muscle. Atsumu’s thumbs rubbed circles in the exposed skin of your lower back, he sighed, breathing in your soft scent.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” you mumbled.

“Yeah.” he mumbled back “I’ll pick ya up.”

“Alright.”

“Alright.”

But none of you let go of the other.

O7 . CRUSH?

As a way to celebrate the school days being finally over to go into summer break, you organized a sleepover, and now Atsumu, Osamu, Suna and Aran were there since the others couldn’t make it.

As you and the guys spoke about Osamu’s crush, you suddenly turned to Atsumu.

“And you? Any girl got your heart?” you smiled.

The room suddenly went silent, except for Suna’s low chuckle.

Atsumu was quiet too, he was thinking. Wasn’t he obvious enough? Didn’t he showed his feelings? His heart that beats to your name?

“No.” he looked down, cheeks getting red as he started fidgeting with the control he was holding.

You raised an eyebrow, looking at everyone else. It seemed like they all knew something you didn’t.

“Guys?” you mumbled, but everyone seemed to look away from you.

You looked back at Atsumu and saw his red cheeks, then you looked down, noticing your leg that was on top of his.

Suddenly something clicked in your head. And bells started ringing on your head.

Everything started making sense like a piece of a puzzle.

The girl he had a crush on, was you. Miya Atsumu had a deep crush on you and had been trying to show it to you the whole time.

And, oh god.

You were in love with him too.

[miniseokminnies]

hashtag black heart —- l.sm

𖦹 pairing: lee seokmin x f!reader 𖦹 theme: camboy!seokmin, roommates to lovers 𖦹 w/c: 2.8k 𖦹 warnings: 18+ MDNI, online dynamics, oral sex [f. receiving], pet names, praise kink, lots of whining, embarrassing moments, one awful date (not with seokmin), unprotected sex (that's a no no) 𖦹 a/n: shout out to that anon that pitched something similar to me a while back but i lost the ask ;-; huge thanks to @lovetaroandtaemin for jumping at the opportunity to beta this monstrosity for me 𖦹 tags: @gyubakeries, @seungkw1, @myhimbomingi

You should really stop letting your friends convince you to do things.  The decisions they talk you into are questionable at best.  Like that time Soonyoung convinced you that it would be easy to raid your parents’ liquor cabinet and go on a “bender” before walking across the stage at graduation.  The problem with this plan was that your older brother had already tried it and replaced the alcohol with apple juice successfully.  This didn’t stop Soonyoung from swearing he was drunk and embarrassing himself in front of your entire class and their families while taking his diploma from your principal an hour after sipping warm apple juice from the mouth of a whiskey bottle.

Soonyoung (and his girlfriend, Jenna) was once again the driving force behind your poor decision today as well.  He knew this “great guy” from one of his dance classes in college and seemed to think the two of you would really hit it off.  After confirming this with Jenna, who agreed that he was a nice guy with similar interests to you, you hesitantly agreed to go on a date with him.  

 That’s how you ended up in the most awkward situation you have ever encountered.  After almost an hour of disappointing heavy petting, he came in his pants and drove you home. He told you to call him, as if that would ever happen. You slid your keys into the lock and did a quick check of your apartment to see if your roommate (another person Soonyoung introduced you to) was home.    

Once you had confirmed that he was not home, you slipped into your room and locked the door behind you.  Quietly, like you were keeping a secret from even yourself, you settled under your covers and unlocked your phone.  You click on the folder with a little black heart beneath it and swipe past three pages of apps before you get to the one you’re looking for.  The page loads quickly and you scroll through the homepage, full of cam boys on full display until one in particular catches your eye. 

He wasn’t live, you never seem to catch him as he kept a strange schedule.  You didn’t mind, it somehow felt less shameful to watch the recordings of his live streams than actually getting off to someone touching themselves on the other side of a screen in real time.  The page was active recently, the newest video having an indicator saying that it was streamed three hours ago, while you were out on your terrible date. 

You tap the video and your screen is filled with the view of his toned abs. The other thing you like about this one in particular is that he remains completely anonymous.  His face is always out of frame, apart from a few videos where you caught a glimpse of his lips, these were your favorite ones.       

You watched the screen intently as he lifted his hand and trailed it down the sea of tan skin in the frame, moving lower and lower.  His long fingers wrapped around his stiff cock lightly, and you hear his breath hitch behind the camera as he begins to stroke himself slowly. The sounds of his pleasure went straight to your core, you could feel the heat begin to pool in your stomach.  The man on your phone began to swipe the precum from his weeping slit and work it down his shaft.      

You placed a hand over your own breast and tweaked your nipple over your shirt.  The cam boy on your screen whined breathily as you both worked yourselves up.  You watched him as he sped up his strokes, and your mouth went dry as the arousal dripped in your panties. Your fingers trailed down your own body, just as the man’s did a few minutes ago, painfully slowly.  Your fingers dipped into your underwear.  More noises were coming from your phone now, and you’ve watched this man enough to know that he was getting close.  

His hands were so pretty, so gentle and slender, you just knew he would be able to reach places inside of you that you couldn’t.  You inserted two fingers into yourself and sighed.  Pumping slowly, still working yourself towards your high, you looked back at your screen.  He was fucking up into his fist now, sloppily chasing his high.  At the visual you all but threw your phone on your bed in favor of using that hand to stimulate your own clit.  You could still hear the sound of his skin and his breathless moans from your phone speaker, and at this point, that was enough.  

You began to lose control and buck your hips to the rhythm.  The coil in your stomach was tightening and threatening to snap.  Your own moans bounced off the walls of your bedroom as you rock yourself against your fingers and circle the bundle of nerves. The coil snaps as your sounds mix with his, your vision explodes into fireworks as your orgasm ripples through your body.  You ride your fingers through the pleasure.  

After a few minutes of this you grab for your phone to exit out of the video, but not before looking at the man on the screen, spent and covered in his own cum.  The visual is almost enough to make you want to go again, but you forced yourself to close out and go get cleaned up.   

You returned to your room a few minutes later and began to scroll through your food delivery apps, since you could not be bothered with cooking tonight.  The problem was that absolutely nothing you could order sounded appetizing right now.  You let out a frustrated sigh and flopped back on your bed.  You stared at your ceiling for several minutes.  

A series of knocks on your bedroom startled you.  

“Y/N!” Your roommate called.  “I’m making dinner, want in?” You scrambled up and unlocked the door.  His hand was still raised from when he knocked.  

“I very much want in.” 

“Okay,” he laughed.  You have lived with him for the last six months, before that you lived with Soonyoung.  When he and Jenna got serious she asked him to move in and he practically jumped at the opportunity.  He was a considerate roommate and an even better friend, so he stayed until it was time to renew the lease.  You were worried about affording the apartment by yourself, so he came up with a solution for that too.  The solution was named Seokmin, and you had no idea who he was.  

Luckily for Seokmin, you tend to just go along with things Soonyoung suggests, and you had no other friends needing a place to live.  So, Seokmin it was.  He was a good roommate.  He mostly kept to himself, but there are some days where he invited you to dinner in the living room. 

“What are we having?” You ask, leaning against the counter.  

“We have a frozen pizza.” He shrugged.

“Perfect!” You exclaimed sarcastically and moved to preheat the oven. 

“Movie?” 

“Sure, pick whatever.” You rifle through the fridge, “Beer?”        

“You read my mind,” he called from the small living room.  You grabbed one for each of you.  He was sitting on the couch flipping through movies on Netflix.  Plopping down next to him you held the bottle out to him.  You watched him wrap his fingers around the neck of the bottle, the grip looked familiar.  Almost as if you saw those fingers around something else just an hour ago—

“Oh my God!” You gasped.  

“What?” He turned to you frantically, “What happened?”   

“I–” you sputtered, “The Queen of England died.” 

“Yeah?” He raised an eyebrow at you, “Like three years ago.” 

“Yeah,” you scrambled up off the couch, “Crazy! I’ll be right back!” You didn’t give him time to respond before you were practically running to the bathroom.  You threw on the sink and splashed water in your face.  Okay, so, you just touched yourself to a video of your roommate, a video that he uploaded online, one of many.  Your shy, considerate, admittedly cute roommate is a camboy, your favorite camboy.   

You avoided Seokmin for the next week.  You could not look at him, now that you knew what he sounded like when he came.  When you did catch glimpses of him, before hurrying away to your room, you were more and more sure of the fact that it was him.  His gorgeous lips were burned into your memory from the first time you saw them.  You’re honestly surprised you didn’t put two and two together earlier.  The fact that you knew he only ever went live when you weren’t home, that didn’t help his case.    

You pulled your knees to your chest and opened that folder with the black heart.  Against your better judgement you went straight to his page, something you hadn’t done since that day.  You scrolled through all of the streams, his body looking delicious in each one.  You squeezed your thighs together, you cannot be doing this right now, or ever again.  The sound of a key turning in the front door of your apartment made you throw your phone to the other end of the couch as if it was hot to the touch.  Seokmin spotted you before you had the chance to run from him this time.  

“Hey!” He exclaimed and scrambled to close the door as you attempted, once again, to escape him.  “Wait!” You turned back to him slightly, hearing his pleading tone.  When you caught a glimpse of him, the look on his face matched his tone. “Did…did I do something wrong?” He wrung his hands together.  

“No, not at all.” You assured him, barely above a whisper.  

“Then why have you been avoiding me?” He looked as if he might stomp his foot, like a petulant child.  “I just felt like we were really starting to get used to each other, and maybe even…maybe we were friends. Then you found out the Queen died, and you’ve been weird!” 

“I know,” you mumbled looking at your feet on the carpet.  

“You know that you’ve been weird?” He took a step toward you.  

“No, Seokmin, I know,” you unlocked your phone and held it out to him. His eyes widened to a size you had never seen as he took in the sight of his own body on your phone screen. You watched him scroll for a few seconds, making sure this was really him, before he looked up at you.   

“Y/N, I am so sorry,” he clutched your phone in his hands and you had to stop your thoughts from wandering.  “You let me move in without knowing me, and I brought this into your home.” You shook your head as he continued, “No seriously, this was so disrespectful of me and if you want me to move out—wait…” You could almost see the gears turning in his head, “How do you know about this?”     

“I—” Your mouth felt dry, you wanted to run away. 

“Do you watch my videos?” He tried to sound confident but the scarlet blush creeping up his cheeks gave him away.   

“I, uh, may have seen one or two…”

“When was the last time,” his confidence was rising now. 

“Um..the day I ‘found out’ the Queen died…” You muttered. “Right before you got home…” You whispered, the heat rose in your cheeks.  He blinked at you for a moment before crossing the room over to you.  

“Did you finish?” His eyes turned dark and his voice lowered.  You nodded up at him, you weren’t sure how he got this information out of you when just a moment ago both of you were too embarrassed to even look at each other.  It didn’t matter, though, not with the way he looked down at you, and how three words made you wet.

His nimble fingers wrapped around your wrist, and he dragged you back to the couch.  He sat you down gently and sank to his knees in front of you.  You spread your legs for him to shuffle closer to your clothed core.  “I started this whole thing to gain confidence, you know?”

“You..you seem pretty confident now..” You were distracted by the vision in your head of him parting your folds with his tongue.

“Well,” he hooked his thumbs under the waistband of your shorts and underwear, “my roommate I’ve been crushing on since I moved in has seen me get myself off, and she liked it.”  

“Mhmm,” you pressed your thighs together, “and?”   

“Well,” he began to slowly pull your clothes down your thighs, “if I would have known the times I heard her trying to keep quiet were already because of me, I would have offered to help her out.”   You didn’t even have time to be embarrassed about him hearing you before he had your bottoms off and fluttering to the floor.  

He spread your legs apart and settled on the floor between them.  He leveled himself with your dripping cunt and licked the first fat stripe.  A gasp ripped from your throat at the contact.  Your vision from a few seconds ago became a reality as he ran his tongue slowly through your folds.  Your hands found his hair, and he hummed contentedly into your heat.  HIs arms wrapped around your thighs and pulled you closer to him, as if he couldn’t get enough of you.  The new closeness brought his sharp nose into contact with your clit, eliciting a lewd moan from you.  

He dipped his tongue in your entrance experimentally as his nose continued to stimulate the bundle of nerves.  You felt like you might explode.  Everything was Seokmin, his mouth, his fingers gripping the plush of your thighs, the way his moans into your cunt mixed with your own.  You felt like you were about to break.  He could tell.  You bucked your hips to meet his face, chasing your high.    

You came undone as Seokmin was tasting you.  He would drink it all up if he could.  Reluctantly, he tore himself away.  You swore you almost came again at the beauty of his mouth and nose covered in the essence of you. His pupils were blown out, almost covering the brown of his irises.  You leaned forward and kissed him, deep and hard, you didn’t even care that you could taste yourself on his lips.  He whimpered against you.  

“Let me take care of you, Min,” you whispered.  

“No.” He shook his head.  You pulled back and looked at him, confused. “Use me.” He begged.  This man was on his knees in front of you, begging.  

“What do you want?” 

“Make me your toy,” he said breathlessly, “use me like you do when you watch me, please?” His eyes were big and round.  You nodded and pushed him onto his back on the floor.  You climb onto him and straddle his hips.  He was overwhelmed already, looking up at you.  You ground your hips down onto his hard cock and he let out another whimper.  Leaning forward you trapped his hands above his head.  

“Leave those there while I undress you, pretty boy,” he nodded eagerly and you moved to remove his pants and boxers.  Once free, you took in the sight of his pretty cock in person for the first time.  Seokmin’s hands were big, so you never realized just how big he was elsewhere as well. You swiped some of the precum that was drowning the bulbous head and worked it down his shaft.  “Ready?” 

He nodded again, you were half convinced that he couldn’t form words.  You lined yourself up above him and slowly sank down on his cock. 

“F-fuck…” There was his voice.  He took the word right out of your mouth.  The stretch was delicious, he fit inside of you perfectly.  You gave yourself a second to adjust before he was whining and begging you to move. You rocked your hips experimentally, and he felt better inside of you than originally thought.  He was already thrusting up to meet you.  

“Eager,” you remarked. You moved up and down, feeling each delicious drag against your walls.  Seokmin, ever eager to please, left his hands above his head as he was told.  “You can touch me.” You breathed.  His hands flew to your hips and began to guide your rocking on his cock.  “You’re such a good boy, waiting for permission.” He whimpered at your praise.  You could feel the telltale signs of your orgasm approaching.  

“Baby ‘m gonna cum,” he sighs.  The familiar sounding sighs sent you hurtling toward your own high.  His thrusts from under you became sloppy and quick.  Your second orgasm washed over you in waves, and you felt like you were floating.  Quickly after yours began, Seokmin came undone, and he released hot white ropes inside of your spent cunt.  

He pulls you into a kiss and lays you down on his chest.  The apartment is quiet as the two of you come down from your highs.  After a few minutes Seokmin breaks the carefully crafted silence, “Baby?” 

“Mmmm?” You hum.  

“You knew that the Queen was dead, didn’t you?”   

[heechwe]

between you and me | 𝐲𝐣𝐢

୨୧ pairing: yang (I.N) jeongin x fem!reader ୨୧ word count: 3.2k ୨୧ genre: light comedy, smut ୨୧ tags: college au, TA!reader, collegestudent!jeongin, a bit perverted jeongin, degradation, dirty talk, pet names, body worship, semi-public sex, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, cum stuffing ୨୧ synopsis: You're his TA; Jeongin's not supposed to be thinking about you, the picture-perfect girl. Yet, he can't control himself or his physical reactions when he's around you. He needs to let his feelings out once and for all, before he spends another class sexually frustrated.

⟢ AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thank you to my lovely friends for beta-ing this fic once again (@xomakara, @lovetaroandtaemin, @tbzhub, @mini-mews, and @gyubakeries).

Jeongin thinks now that you’re doing it on purpose.

Whenever you catch his eye amid Professor Bang’s lectures and give him a secret smile or conspiratory wink, he senses what you’re doing. The first couple of times at the start of the semester, he thought he was delusional. 

You only spoke a handful of times about his attendance and missed marks on the first assignment. There was no way that you, his ethnolinguistics teacher’s TA, has an interest in him. He’s just a little sophomore, still indecisive about what dinner to eat in the dining hall.

Jeongin reckons you have it all figured out by now. You’re too composed, too structured, too mature. Too perfect for someone like him.

Now, he thinks it’s all a cat-and-mouse game to you, and you’re simply waiting for him to take the bait.

Right now, you have your chin in your hand, flitting between typing notes and comments on Professor Bang’s lecture on your computer and staring at Jeongin. He’s spent the past hour pretending not to notice your eyes burning into him. Now, he no longer cares.

After a handful of minutes sharing glances, you tug at your bottom lip between your teeth. Instantly, Jeongin feels the blood flow out of his face and into the center of his legs. Thank God there’s a large desk sparing everyone, including you, a peek at the growing tightness of his sweatpants.

He wonders what your body would do in his hands. How it would feel to palm your chest with his fingers, drag each digit along your skin until they discover the secret parts of you that love pleasure. What it would feel like to capture that bottom lip with his own teeth.

The minutes drag on, achingly slow yet incredibly fast, until Professor Bang signals the end of class. Jeongin can’t stand up yet, still sporting a tent in his pants he can’t quell with a few quick absurd and horribly unsexy thoughts.

Gym socks. Family dinners. Hyunjin’s morning breath. Nothing works. 

As other students and Professor Bang himself make their way to the exit, Hyunjin stays stock still. You gather your stuff, but you notice out of the corner of your eye  Jeongin remaining in his seat. You smile at him before asking, “Yinnie, you alright?”

Don’t fucking call me that, he thinks with a tightening gut. It takes any of the power from his thoughts away, your voice and your words keeping a firm grip on his body’s current state.

“Fine!” Jeongin responds, voice a little too high and clipped.

You chuckle and step closer when you have all of your materials in your bookbag, sauntering over like you aren’t the cause of his current demise. “You didn’t take a lot of notes today. Something on your mind?”

What do you think?

He chuckles breathlessly and taps his pencil against his still open notebook. “Nervous about the final next month, I think.” He tries to focus on your face and not how close you are to him, the desk separating the two of you by a half a dozen feet. “Sometimes I get easily distracted.”

You click your teeth, smiling the entire time. “Well, if you ever need help to get back on track”—you lean your head a fraction closer to his over the desk, making all the nerves in his body spike—”just let me know.”

You re-adjust the strap of your bag and walk out of the classroom. Jeongin’s mind remains a jumbled mess as his dick stays incredibly hard, the implicitness of your words and actions leaving the poor guy without a clue how to relieve his recent problem.

“Did she actually see your boner?” Hyunjin asks before taking another swig of his beer.

“I don’t know!” Jeongin groans face-first into his pillow. “I felt so confident before I actually opened my mouth, and then it all went south.”

Jeongin ran back to his dorm after the debacle this morning to not only jerk off but bitch about his problems to Hyunjin, his roommate, the second the older one arrived home. In an hour, Jeongin's European Art History class begins, but he's too exhausted, both physically and mentally, to concentrate.

“While your dick started pointing north, huh?” Hyunjin winks and chuckles.

“Hyune, it’s not funny,” Jeongin says with muffled sadness.

His best friend sets his beer down and sighs. “It’s not wrong to like her, given she likes you back. Just try to control yourself and ask her out next time.”

“How do I do that when even the smallest sound from her mouth makes me hard?” He rises from his bed to stare at his friend, utterly lost.

“Maybe you don’t need to talk,” Hyunjin suggests, his eyes glinting with suggestive flare. “Grab her after class when the opportunity strikes.”

Jeongin ponders the thought. If all of his assumptions were incorrect, it would only be a short time before the class ends and he’ll never have to see you again and his desires can die right where they began. And if not, who knows where it will go?

Jeongin pops the bubblegum against his lips before walking into the classroom. To his surprise, the only one in the room is you and another student. Professor Bang would typically be at the podium, rifling through papers, but you stand in his place.

It wasn’t abnormal for you to teach here and there if Bang was absent. But seeing you in a floral midi skirt and low-cut top, he thinks he may sport another erection throughout the entire three hours of class.

“Hey,” you say when you look up from your laptop, instantly smiling. “You’re early today.”

He smiles and places his items in the front row. Choosing to sit directly in front of you today, he has to calm the increasing tempo of his heartbeat. He has to pace himself and relax. It’s only a smile, a world-upending one, but one that has no obligations or innuendos attached. “Professor Bang out sick?”

You nod with a solemn smile. Earlier that day, Professor Bang notified everyone that his daughter needed a babysitter and that you would be in charge; however, Jeongin wants to hear the words from your perfect lips. Any excuse to converse with you is a win in his mind. “You’ll be stuck with me today.” 

Leaning down to rifle with the papers on your desk, you give the perfect view of your cleavage for Jeongin to witness. And there goes the rest of his composure.

His body clams up as he feels heat pooling again in the worst place. Your chest is so supple, he thinks for a fraction of a second what it be like to cover the top of your breasts in hickeys that only he could see in private, knowing how he made them and how you would wear them with secret pride. 

But he can’t think about that now, not when he’s trying to hold some semblance of maturity.

He jams his notebook over his bottom half and walks over to your spot at the podium and adjacent desk. You feel his presence, but you don’t look up at him. You only move your head a fragment of an inch to let him know you’re listening. He still has an unobstructed view of your chest, one that’s arguably better now that he’s right in front of you. The sight shouldn’t make him stutter so terribly, but it does. “I-I actually meant to talk to you about s-something, Miss—”

Before you can respond, your plastic coffee cup flips up on its top to douse your papers and shirt with coffee. The milky brown liquid gets everywhere, dampening your skin and the fabric of your shirt. If Jeongin didn’t know any better, he swears he can see your nipples poking through the now dampened cloth of your shirt and nude bralette.

He immediately throws his notebook on the desk and takes off his jacket. Handing it to you to cover up, he realizes too slowly he’s given you an eagle eye shot of the tent in his pants. You blush before he takes his notebook back, but he hopes it's because the sticky coffee has soaked you and can't be cleaned until after class. He has to believe that, anyway.

Jeongin clamps down hard on the gum between his teeth, so hard it may become part of the crown of one of his molars at this point. You, still damp and looking up at him with doe eyes as you wait for his request, will be the death of him.

“Can I just talk to you after we’re done?” he asks, his pants brutally tight against his crotch. Students trickle in with only ten more minutes left before class starts, his initial plan on hold until everyone leaves.

You nod with another smile, motioning him back to his seat so you can dry the wet papers in the open air. Even as students look on and some offer to help you out, you can’t keep your focus off of Jeongin.

And this time, he hopes you see how your current state affects him. 

“Sorry, guys. Had a little spill before you got here,” you laugh boldly. “Now, onto endangered languages.”

When everyone departs to move onto their next classes, the front of the room still smells like the caramel and vanilla coffee from the accident before class. The aroma reminds Jeongin that his problem has not gone away, not for a single second, and if he doesn’t relieve it somehow, he will implode.

He stands up from his desk to make his move, watching as you move away from the podium to be directly in front of him. He has no reason to conceal himself from you now, but to remain professional, he hides with the help of his notebook once again.

“So,” Jeongin starts, “I want to just clear the air between us, so if you don’t feel the same we never have to—”

“Jeongin, what are you talking about?” He thought he loved the nickname you gave him before, but his given name on your lips almost makes him whimper out loud. 

You look at him wide-eyed, but he sees the ghost of a smirk on your lips. The confusion you’re feigning doesn’t meet your mouth, giving you away. “You know what I’m talking about,” he responds.

“I don’t think I do. Enlighten me.” You anchor yourself to the desk and cross one leg over the other, clearly amused.

He knows now, for certain, you’re teasing him. “You don’t think I’ve noticed how you look at me?” His voice is barely a whisper. It teeters on the edge between anxiety and lust. He wants to go there, to bridge the distance, but not before you supply him with some sort of physical affirmation.

“I was gonna ask you the same question.” You step towards him until he’s a breath away. You take the hand not holding his notebook gently into yours and guide it to above your skirt. His breath hitches when he feels the wetness between your thighs, even through two layers of clothes. “You feel that? That’s all because of you.”

He takes the hand you guided to your body and moves it to his erection, removing his notebook from his waist so you can see and feel the torture he's felt. Not just today, but for the past few months, it’s been like an inferno slowly crawling up his skin and setting him aflame. “You’re not the only one who’s in need of relief.”

“I won’t tell anyone if you won’t, Yinnie.”

Those eight words unburden him from what little reservation he had left. He takes your mouth in his, claiming all the explicit and implicit words shared between you with his tongue. The first kiss is slow and world-stopping, the chasm between the tension finally sewn shut. The ones that follow are anything but slow, but they still stop the world around the two of you.

He unbuttons the center of your shirt as you tug on the hem of his sweater. He explores every piece of skin he can with his hands. The parts not occupied by his fingertips welcome his mouth, your body on fire for him. “Slow down,” you say, although the words hold no weight. He knows it. “We can’t do this here.”

“I don’t care.” He stuffs his face in between your breasts, finally placing a hickey on the tops of the slopes with reckless abandon. You writhe against his kisses, bucking up into his mouth when his breath hits one of your nipples, the bud pebbling at his attention. “I want you. Now.”

“What if someone—”

“You know you don’t give a single fuck if we get caught,” Jeongin growls, unzipping the midi skirt at your waist so it falls to the floor. He’s never been this rough, this frantic. He can only blame it on the unresolved tension he’s been sitting with for what feels like forever. You are beyond blame; you’ve given yourself to him willingly, and he’s forever grateful.

He runs his hands over your waist and exposed chest. Your breasts in his hands feel exactly like he imagined, hefty but tender. “Seeing as you eye-fuck me every chance you get, I’d say you’ve been waiting for this to happen.”

You moan at the way he nips at your neck and collarbones in tandem with his squeezing of your chest, practically biting down with his teeth as he kisses your skin. You rip his clothes off in quick succession, his sweater and undershirt joining the pile you’ve made on the floor.

“I promise I’ll be quick.” Like rapid fire, he lifts you onto the desk and splays you out over the hard plastic top, his face practically kissing your heat already. “I just need to taste you.”

You mewl at his words. He lifts your hips so he can discard your underwear and leave it in the heap of clothes. He can’t pretend he didn’t notice the wet patch at its center before he threw them to the side, though.

And at the sight of your exposed cunt, Jeongin refuses to waste another second. He dives into the cleft of your thighs with reckless abandon. Long strips and flat licks up and down your pussy make you cry out. You reach down to yank him by the top of his brown hair, rolling your hips into his face as his nose bumps your clit.

It’s even better, tastes better, than all the fantasies he conjured in the comfort of his bedroom or the embarrassing public space of the common showers. He’s thought about it for so long, too long, but all the inner workings of his mind compared to this is child’s play.

He’s not ashamed to admit eating you out may be one of the best things he’s ever done. And he knows now that he’s a liar when he said he would be quick. He’ll take his time for all it’s worth, even if the lights go out and the department building closes up for the day.

You say his name repeatedly, alongside “Just like that” as well as “Please don’t stop.”

He detaches his lips from your folds with a pornographic suckling noise and finally drops  both his pants and boxers. His cock slaps against his stomach, the tip red and leaking. He’s done enough to prepare you for this moment.

When he slides in, he covers the entirety of your body with his own, using his long legs to keep his feet firm on the floor as he thrusts. You moan into his mouth, his tongue exploring the insides of your cheeks and the roof of your mouth.

The sounds of his skin slapping against yours are almost as lewd and animalistic as his pace going in and out of you. He tugs your bottom lip with his teeth. He feels only a smidgeon of guilt when a fragment of the skin speckles with blood, his desires giving way to acting on his impulses. But you don’t mind. If anything, you become more vocal.

He groans when you lick the blood at the corner of your lips. “You’re so dirty,” he says, pressing two of his fingers to the seam of your mouth. “Suck.”

You latch onto his digits eagerly, taking them and sucking until they practically hit the back of your throat. He chuckles darkly at the action, loving that your sexual energy matches his. He removes them from your wet mouth to circle your clit, the puffy flesh begging for as much attention as your hole.

“Oh, fuck.” Your eyes roll into the back of your head. “Jeongin—”

He takes your chin in his other hand, holding it in place as he continues slamming into you mercilessly and flicking at your clit with the pads of his fingers. “That’s it, baby. Who’s making you feel like this?”

“You, Jeongin, you.” Your moans verging on screams fill the room, the sounds bouncing off the walls in salacious echoes. “God, it’s so good.”

“When you spilled that coffee all over yourself earlier, I couldn’t help picturing my cum on your chest. And you just left yourself exposed for me and everyone else to see. You’re filthy and you don’t even realize it.” He clamps down on your neck as your face remains placid, creating a new mark on you while you stay still in his hold. “Lucky for me, I love that you’re a dirty whore.”

You whimper and whine, meeting each thrust of Jeongin’s hips. “Yunnie, I’m gonna come—”

“Not yet,” he warns, halting the hand against your clit from circling any more. “Not without me, baby.”

He knows he’s just as close to his orgasm as you are, but he wants you to know who’s in charge, despite your higher educational status. Despite every worry that he wouldn’t measure up to you, you wedged underneath him proves to be the best proof to the contrary.

And now, he gets to feel your release on his mouth, his fingers, his cock. It’s an ego boost as much as it is an incredible gift to be given.

“Fuck,” he swear, “where do you want me to come, baby?”

“Inside,” you say immediately, “I want to feel all of you.”

The words on your tongue sound almost like poetry. He can’t fathom how he got so lucky. “Come with me,” he whispers in a hoarse voice. “Come all over me.”

His orgasm comes like a wave breaking against a cliff. The second your pussy flutters around his cock, signaling your release, he’s done for. He whines pitifully as his seed coats the insides of your walls, your body at his mercy as he fucks all of his cum into you.

When he watches small droplets of his release seeping out of you, he stuffs it all back in with his fingers. And when his fingers glisten with the residue, you suck them clean with a sinful smirk.

Jeongin chuckles, gleefully satiated, and kisses the tip of your nose. “I think I’m starting to love ethnolinguistics now.”

You giggle into his neck. “I bet you’ll love ethnosemantics next semester.”

“As long as you’re TA’ing it, babe,” Jeongin says before capturing your lips in a searing kiss.

@yvnempire @sjylouvre @mini-mews @jayparked @heesuncore @yoursjaeyun @sungbeams @jenoslutie @loserlvrss @pars-ley @lovetaroandtaemin @wonwovy

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 ౨ৎ˚₊

@kstrucknet @k-films @kvanity-main @lapydiaries @moadiarynet @sweetvenomnet @onedoornet @sayxonet @violetanet @svthub @whipped-kpop-creators

[haikyu-mp4]

The Snowball Fight

word count; 818 – f!reader, part 2 of this

"I'm so sorry, Bo. I don't know if I can take another step.” You breathed heavily, leaning your hands on your knees. You two had been jogging for a few kilometres, and your legs were already complaining. Although the sudden nickname flustered Bokuto, he wordlessly trotted over and squatted in front of you. Weirdly enough, no part of him was annoyed at your tiredness. Probably because he enjoyed your company so much, but he wouldn't say that out loud.

"Jump on," he encouraged with a glance over his shoulder. You were the flustered one now, shocked at his offer but nowhere near declining it. Jumping on his back, he grabbed under your thighs when your hands hung around his shoulders. The rest of the way consisted of Bokuto walking with long strides, deciding not to speed up too much with you on his back. Very distractingly, you kept sending shivers down his spine by talking into his ear, asking questions about this or that. He would take the questions way too seriously, giving unexpectedly long answers, but you enjoyed that even more.

Because you were suddenly closer to his height, you noticed that he was wearing the scrunchie you lent him the day before. The detail made your smile broaden, and you hugged him just a little tighter.

Konoha was walking from the store after getting some breakfast and almost dropped his tote bag when he saw Bokuto carrying around a woman on his back. He quickly yelled and waved you over. "Kotaro!"

"Huh?" Bokuto was surprised and almost dropped you to the ground. Fortunately, you caught your footing and stayed upright before following Bokuto to meet Konoha halfway.

"I don't think I've met you before?" Konoha said, glancing at his old teammate with a look Bokuto hadn't seen before. "I'm Konoha," he immediately introduced himself, holding a hand out to you.

"Y/n, nice to meet you," you answered confidently.

"Beautiful name, where did you find her?"

Bokuto laughed nervously at Konoha’s blatant teasing. "Library,"

"Ah! You're the one who told him to draw his notes!" A light went off in his head, remembering that Bokuto told him about you the other day. This woman helped me even after I disturbed her studying. She must be very nice, then. She’s super nice. Cute, too. "The cute one."

You chuckled nervously this time. The cute one? "I only gave him the idea," you said, rejecting any credit.

"I bet he's grateful anyway." Konoha winked at his friend, not hiding the gesture from you at all.

"We should go now," Bokuto announced and pointed somewhere behind him.

"Sure, but I expect that you'll tell me next time you're taking her on a date." Konoha dropped that last bomb before walking away with an amused smirk when his friend started laughing nervously once again.

"He's weird." Bokuto looked down at you, and you smiled at each other with warm cheeks.

"Did you tell him I'm cute?" You decided to take advantage of the situation, loving how the man laughed nervously when he was embarrassed. I'm smitten.

"We should jog from here, so we're not late for class," he stated, trying to avoid the topic and jogging away from you. You stopped without him noticing and picked up a chunk of snow, forming it into a ball. Throwing it at his back with a mischievous smile, you laughed as it hit him square between his shoulders, some of it probably going down the neck of his shirt. He stopped abruptly, and when he turned around the look on his face had changed. This meant war.

Bokuto quickly made a snowball and threw it at your back when you ran away. The snowball fight didn't cease soon, and you both learned how competitive the other one was the hard way. You were running around and getting closer and closer to each other for the more fatal attacks. Cold snow melted on the skin under your clothes, and your chest heaved with both laughter and exhaustion. Bokuto finally ended it by tackling you into the pile of snow beside the road. Your breaths came out as smokey clouds, and you looked at each other with admiration.

"You win, Bo." Your voice was low and tickled his spine with sparks. The words gave him a sudden bolt of confidence.

"Maybe we should go out for real sometime," he suggested. The words shocked you, and a smile split your cheeks as you rested your head on the snow.

"I would love that."

"Cool. I really should go now, though, or I'll miss class." You looked at your watch and took Bokuto’s hand so he could pull you up.

"Go on, I'll text you." Blowing him a kiss, he stumbled but caught himself before turning and jogging away from you. That was smooth, Bokuto, real smooth.

"Bye, y/n!" He yelled over his shoulder.

"Bye, Bo!"

The Schoolyear Series ║ masterlist

[mixolya]

ᓚᘏᗢ — beneath the stars, we became one: chapter 022 !

the bell rang, signaling the end of your last class, and you packed up your things slowly. the day had been long, and the storm outside wasn't making things any better. rain lashed against the windows, the sound a constant reminder that you'd forgotten your umbrella at home.

screw you for not checking the weather app.

you sighed, pulling out your phone. everyone had already left - milya, ayane, nagi, even reo. you were the last one stuck at school, and the downpour didn't seem like it would let up anytime soon. why was every teacher sick except yours?

the rain fell in heavy sheets, drenching the school grounds as you stood unter the awning by the main doors. the cold air bit at your skin, and your uniform felt flimsy against the chill. you hugged your bag closer, staring out at the relentless downpour, debating your next move.

your phone buzzed in your hand, and you pulled it out. you tapped reo's contact and pressed the call button. he was the only one with a driver's license, and he wouldn't mind picking you up. as the call rang, you shifted your weight from one foot to the other, hoping he'd answer quickly.

but before you could hear anything on the other end, a shadow loomed over you.

"reo-" you started, but the word was cut off as a hand reached out and snatched the phone from your grip.

"hey!" you protested, looking up in shock.

a tall figure stood before you, an umbrella shielduing them from the rain. the dim light and the way they towered over you made your stomach twist in fear. before you could process what was happening, they grabbed your wrist firmly.

"let go!" you shouted, trying to pull away.

the figure didn't speak. instead, they started walking, dragging you along with them. the umbrella shielded both of you from the worst of the rain, but the abruptness of it all sent your heart racing.

"who- what are you doing?!" you demanded, your voice edged with panic.

the grip on your wrist was firm and unyielding. you yanked back, your shoes skidding on the wet pavement. "hello?? i said let me go!"

the figure stopped suddenly, trying to face you. you stumbled to a halt, your chest heaving as you prepared to fight back.

then you saw his face.

"rin?" you breathed, the fear in your voice replaced by shock.

his damp hair clung to his forehead and his expression was calm, almost unnervingly so.

"what the hell, rin?" you exclaimed, yanking your wrist free. "you scared me half to death!"

he didn't say anything. instead, he glanced at the phone in his hand - your phone - and slid it in his jeans pockets.

"hey! give that back!" you protested, reaching for your phone, but rin stepped back, holding the umbrella steady over both of you.

"we need to talk," he said, his tone flat but with an edge of urgency.

"huh?" you echoed, linking up at him, confusion evident in your voice.

"just come with me," rin repeated, his tone leaving no room for argument as he tugged on your wrist gently, yet firmly.

"wait, what? rin, what are you—"

before you could finish, he started walking, making you follow him.

you sighed, your confusion swirling into curiosity. he adjusted the umbrella as he walked, tilting it to make sure you were completely covered. it was only after a moment that you realized his shoulder was fully exposed, the rain soaking through his shirt.

"rin," you said softly, glancing up at him, "you're getting wet."

he didn’t respond, his eyes focused ahead, his expression unreadable. the way he held himself was deliberate, as if he had something important to say but couldn’t bring himself to start.

you let out a quiet sigh again, falling into step beside him. despite the rain and the heavy silence, there was something oddly calming about walking with him like this, even if you didn’t know where he was taking you or what he wanted to talk about.

the rhythmic sound of rain hitting the umbrella filled the space between you. you watched as droplets slid down its edges, your thoughts as scattered as the rain. you didn’t mind the silence; rin always had a way of speaking without words, and right now, the way he carefully shielded you from the rain said more than enough.

"where are we going?" you finally asked, your voice gentle, not pressing but curious.

rin's footsteps faltered for a brie moment, his grip on the umbrella tightening just slightly. he didn't answer right away, but his gaze remained forward. damn, so cold. the rain blurred the world around you, the quiet tapping against the umbrella the only thing breaking the silence.

after a few more seconds of walking, he finally spoke. "my house," he said simply, his voice carrying an undeniable weight that made your stomach tighten.

you couldn't help but choke on your own saliva. his house? what was so important that he had to take you there now? you opened your mouth, unsure of what to say next, before the words left you in a quiet, teasing tone. "are you kidnapping me?"

rin's head snapped toward you, his sharp gaze melting yours. the usual banter you shared felt completely absent now, replaced by something more serious in the way he looked at you. his eyes narrowed, his lips pressing into a thin line as he gave you a brief, pointed glare.

"just walk," he muttered, cold and distant.

what the fuck is this attitude?

you swallowed your playful response, the weight of his attitude washing over you. you simply nodded, falling into step beside him. the familiar silence between you now felt heavier, the tension hanging in the air like the thick mist around you. you couldn't help but wonder what was waiting for you when you reached his house.

the walk to his house felt like it stretched on forever, each step in silence growing more oppressive, the rain had slowed by the time you reached his front door, but the tension that hung between you both was thick enough to cut with a knife.

rin unlocked the door with a soft click, holding it open for you to step inside. you hesitated for a moment, before stepping over the threshold and into the warmth of his house. it was quiet, almost too quiet, but there was something oddly comforting about it.

rin closed the door behind him and turned to face you. the cold, distant air he had been carrying with him outside seemed to melt the moment you were inside, though his demeanor was still guarded.

"you can relax," he said, his voice steady but softer than it had been all day. "we're alone. no one's here." umm, okay ?

he motioned for you to sit on the couch, his eyes softening ever so slightly as he watched you.

you hesitated for a moment before sitting on the couch, unsure of what to expect next. you looked at him, waiting for him to speak again, wondering what was going on in his mind.

"i know this is, um, weird," he started, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant. "but i needed to do this somewhere we could be alone. no distractions. no outside opinions. just us."

you nodded slowly, your gaze focused on him as you tried to read the situation.

before sitting down on the edge of the couch and leaving a gap between you both, he sighed. neither of you said something, the air filled with unspoken words.

finally, rin whispered, almost too quiet to hear, "i'm sorry."

chapter 021 > here > chapter 023

back to beneath the stars, we became one !

a/n: rin kidnapper era lol??? + this so boring bruh i wanna post ch 23

taglist: @byakgans @bluberrymochi17 @levihanmyotp @x3nafix @etojlee @chuuyalvover @reocidal @syarc0re @azinniyaa @vashyuu @rwbie @idexmids @giaalorine @modxbea @nensi @anqelkoz @sapph1r3x @yuukigyatgyat @morgyyyyyyy @azharyy @chaerinmin @thenightsflower @narcjsistx @totheseok @meekydeeks @aerisevx @imas1mpp @t3chn0chan @lincqx @jadelynnrr @beellu @elpo1111

© mixolya 2025. do not copy, remake or edit any of my works.

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

i've got your back l Frankie "Catfish" Morales

Summary:  in hard times you needed him the most

Warnings:  sexual allusions, some kissing, worried Frankie, dozing Reader, some tears, anxiety, no plot

A/N: comforting Frankie. Frankie who looks after you when you're going through a hard time. this isn't a story about anything specific. i barely created a plot for a few images i had in my head. i need something like that… i need someone to look after me even when i say i'll manage because i'm strong and independent. yes i'm starting my exams soon…

your feedback is very important to me and I want to thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. I secretly hope you like this story.🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

[my masterlist] [Frankie Morales masterlist]

His heart broke as he looked at you. It had been going on for over a week, maybe two. Three? There was no way all this could have been going on for three weeks.

Frankie was leaning against the door frame and watching you in silence. You were sitting over your notes, quietly mumbling the next words you wanted to remember, circling the most important things with colored markers, looking into your books or the computer every now and then. The spare room you had, where you kept your things "temporarily", had become your place for some time now.

When you told Frankie a while ago that you were considering going back to school, he supported you immediately. It was a brilliant idea! He always thought that you were really smart and he was glad that you wanted to do something for yourself and fulfill one of your dreams. 

You have talked about the pros and cons of this idea more than once. After a few days, you would sit next to him again, saying "Frankie, this probably isn't a good idea..." so he once again gave you answers to all your doubts and promised that he was on your side.

Excitement and delight were written all over your face every time you returned from class to your apartment. You told him about your new friends, your professors, and what you did in class. God! You looked so gorgeous he wanted to kiss you, and he did it every time you stopped to catch your breath.

You combined work with school, which was hard, but the support your boyfriend gave you was like a solid foundation. His broad shoulders protected you from the world, but at the same time allowed you to cry when you needed it.

And then the difficulties began. 

Exams, essays you had to write, books you had to read, and work on top of that. Frankie considered you some kind of fucking hero because you managed it all. 

He tried to do as many household chores as possible so you wouldn't have to worry about laundry or cleaning. Besides, it wasn't a problem for him. You were a team, right? Partners.

When you came back from work and saw a warm dinner on the table, or that Frankie had folded the laundry - you wanted to cry. You have been crying quite often lately.

The tiredness started to get to you. You would come back from work and almost immediately sit down to study. It was a hard time.

"Baby?" he finally said, but you didn't react. "Hermosa?"

"Mhm?" you mumbled something, probably without even realizing it.

"I made dinner, you must be hungry."

"Mhm."

He walked up to you and put his giant hands on your shoulders, kissing the top of your head. "Take a break, hermosa. Your brain is starting to smoke."

"I can't remember this." you mumbled quietly. "I keep repeating it and repeating it, but none of it stays in my head."

"Maybe you should take a day off, huh? Your head will rest, you need it."

You buried your face in your hands and sighed loudly. You knew Frankie was right. He loved you, he took care of you every day and you adored him for it. But you had this terrible perfectionism in you, this need to prove yourself, that you were good enough for this and could do anything.

He finally managed to get you in for dinner, but it wasn't what he expected. After a few bites, you started stabbing your food with your fork, clearly lost in thought.

"Pope invited us to a barbecue next weekend," he said, taking a sip of his beer. "We could go, huh?"

"Mhm."

Frankie swallowed. "A new Italian place opened up near where I work. It looks promising. Do you want to go?"

Another grunt. He frowned a little worried.

"I decided to get a big dragon tattooed on my chest, and then paint our living room red. What do you think?"

"Mhm."

"Hermosa..." he sighed, placing a hand on your shoulder. "You're not listening to me."

Jesus, your eyes looked so sad as you looked at him. "I'm sorry, babe. I was lost in thought..." your voice broke "You tried so hard, you made dinner and everything, and all I can think about is that damn exam... I'm a terrible girl."

"Don't say that, I won't let you." he said "We're having a hard time, but we'll get through this together. I've got your back, right?"

"Yeah..." a weak smile appeared on your lips "I hope that when this is over I'll be able to make it up to you."

"I think I'll find some ideas." Frankie winked and kissed the back of your hand.

"I don't know what I did to deserve you."

You loved him. Damn, you loved him and you wanted him to be proud of you. Meanwhile, you felt that you were failing everything in your relationship. When was the last time you had sex?

You tried to forget about that one humiliating moment when you fell asleep before Frankie could take off your panties. He joked about it, but you felt ashamed.

But when it was all over... You were waiting for the last exam with fear and hope. After all of this, you would spend the whole weekend in bed with Frankie, fucking, sleeping, fucking again and eating the food you ordered. It was the perfect plan.

You couldn't sleep. The night before the last exam, you lay in bed with your eyes wide open, listening to Frankie's quiet snores. His assurances that you were perfectly prepared were of no use, after all, he questioned you three times and once more before he fell asleep. All the information you tried to remember was smashing through your head. One word. Fuck! You couldn't remember it.

Frankie mumbled quietly when you freed yourself from his arms, but you pushed your pillow into them and soon he started breathing evenly again.

He didn't expect that. When he woke up in the morning in bed alone, he was disoriented. And he didn't expect to find you sleeping on the desk even more.

"Baby..." he stroked your back, but you didn't even move "Hermosa, get up. I wish you could sleep, but you have to get ready."

"W-What?" you stuttered, lifting your head slightly "What time is it?"

"After seven. Take a shower, I'll make you coffee."

The note that was stuck to your cheek tore off and fell to the floor. For a few seconds you both stared at it in silence, too sleepy to react. Eventually you got up.

The shower didn't bring any relief. You spent some time struggling with your bra, but you finally managed to put it on. You sobbed for a while before you left the bathroom, but then you wiped your cheeks so Frankie wouldn't see it.

He noticed it right away. Nothing could hide from him. A cup of coffee and scrambled eggs, but you barely ate anything. He promised to take you to school, because he was afraid your nerves wouldn’t allow you to get there safely.

"I'll text you when I get out." You said, hugging him tightly. "Keep your fingers crossed."

"Always, hermosa. Kick their asses. I love you."

You entered the building on shaky legs.

Your face lit up when you walked out of the building three hours later and saw Frankie leaning against the car door with his arms folded across his chest. You quickly said goodbye to your friends and almost ran up to him.

Before he could say anything, you threw your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.

"I did it! I did it!"

Strong arms wrapped around you tightly and he lifted you up. "Amazing! I told you, hermosa. No one will get in your way!"

Your hands grabbed his face and your lips collided in a hard kiss. You felt like you were kissing him for the first time. All the weight of the last few weeks, the stress and anxiety, all of it melted away the moment you saw Frankie.

"You should be at work." You noticed between the kisses you showered on his face, jaw and neck.

"And I was supposed to leave my woman alone in this hellish place? You don't know me that well, babe." he chuckled "I'm ready to spend the whole day with you. I'm taking you out for dinner. You must be really hungry."

Your stomach made a strange sound at his words. "Yeah, I guess you're right. I feel like I haven't eaten all week."

Frankie raised his eyebrows and nodded. "That's possible. Get in, hermosa. I'm taking you out of here."

Once you were seated and fastened your seatbelt, Frankie reached for something in the back and suddenly a small but lovely bouquet of flowers appeared before your eyes.

"I thought this might make you happy." he said, a little embarrassed. "You know, I knew you were prepared perfectly, but..."

Tears glistened in your eyes and your lips pouted. "Frankie..." you whimpered.

"Don't you like them?" he asked with fear.

"They're beautiful!" you sobbed. "And you... And you're so amazing!" tears ran down your cheeks "You supported me all this time, and I had to be so awful to you..."

"Sweetie, please..." he wanted to interrupt you, but you wouldn't let him.

"No, Frankie! Listen. If it weren't for you... You give me such support, you help me so much... I want you to know that I really see it and appreciate it. I have a huge guilty conscience for what happened recently. We didn't have time for each other, I was nervous, I cried every now and then. But you never said a bad word to me."

"That's what people who love each other do, babe. You're my gem, I couldn't have done it any other way."

You put your hand on the back of his neck and moved closer so quickly that you knocked his hat off his head, but he didn't care when he tasted your lips again.

His heart was full. Frankie felt like you had returned to his arms after a long journey, even though you never really left them. His tongue slipped between your lips and he felt his cock twitch slightly at the pleasant tenderness. Christ, he missed you so much.

"Take me home, Frankie." You said quietly after a moment, resting your forehead on his. "I want to be with you now."

"Aren't you hungry?"

You shook your head. "We'll order something later. I just want to be with you now."

He pecked your lips once more and started the engine. He felt pride, happiness, love and peace. You were next to him. You were his again. And even though he knew you'd probably turn into a walking hurricane a few more times, it didn't scare him. Together you were able to go through anything. You were his woman. Smart, beautiful, wonderful. He could do it all again so you could fulfill your dream.

"I love you, Frankie." You said quietly, and he kissed the back of your hand without taking his eyes off the road. "I've got your back."

"And I've got yours."

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

[letherightonein]

"Ok, but why does it matter that men take us seriously? You're centering men for legitimacy."

Men have oppressed women spreading the idea that we are irrational and systematically hold cognitive dissonances to optimize our survival. They are the other half of the population, and also they have virtually all the political and economical power. It would be a great political move in women's favor if those men start to take us...you know, seriously.

"You're centering men for legitimacy."

It's weird for me that the same people who support women centering men and partnering them at the same time don't show any concern on what opinion those same men have about women, and by defect, their partners.

Men are perfectly capable of seeing women as little silly deers with hyperbolic dumb ideas about women's liberation but that end up sucking dick and "knowing their place" at the end of the day.

"In my opinion, solidarity should be the central focus of feminism."

In my opinion, logic and consistency should be the core of any movement that pretends to change how things are and be taken seriously by people.

"This concept that women who trust a man in their life are the biggest detriment to feminism is not going to get anyone anywhere."

Not sure if the biggest detriment, but certaintly a weak spot. Unless feminism is not about changing the system, but a kind of dating strategy for women, or a way to pair bond with other women over trauma and oppression while still acting the same way they would with or without feminism.

"I didn't say awareness dismantled the system"

I know, not saying you did. But again, awareness -or the performance of it- doesn't change my point. Men can be aware and still do the same things men have done, the same way women are aware and still do the same things women have done.

"Awareness is enough for some women (not me) and you aren't the one to make that choice. So instead of writing a whole paragraph about how shitty and terrible it is to have a bf, how about you write a big ol' essay about how much you enjoy your life without having a man in it? Cause that would actually help dismantle the system by stoking solidarity ("I don't know why I have to explain this to a feminist")"

So, feminism is truly therapy group. Non partnered women have to support partnered women that choose willingly to engage with the oppressor, and cry and protest in the street because "How is it possible that men keep killing their partners" without questioning ever the choice those "aware" women do everyday and that put them in danger of being killed/raped/abused/exploited by their "aware" partners.

"Also you completely ignored the white people comparison 👀"

"By this logic we should consider all white people as people who uphold racism."

The difference is that race oppression relies primarily in a system. Whereas women's oppression has a systemic and domestic edge, and its core lies in reproductive control and women's bodies.

Right now women, especially in the West, have freedoms because the system has changed, but in the domestic area there are still problems. And the feminist discourse itself has been transformed around personal choices since the condition of women and their problems are, to a large extent, personal and domestic (but are repeated on a large scale).

Women have the freedom to study and work, among many other things, but still, at home, they have to deal with the typical heterosexual dynamic. For example:

"It’s so common, in fact, that 51% of my readers told me, in my most recent survey, that their male partners had coerced them into sex they didn’t want. Twelve percent say their partners have raped them." (article)

In the domestic area, women report constantly to endure violence and abuse from their partners.

It's not that any interaction with the oppressor class is detrimental or that every single individual of the oppressor class is, well, oppressive. But again, we are talking about millions of women partnering with men, millions of feminists telling themselves "he is aware", and then shit like that happen.

If u won the lottery, you won the lottery, but it's simply illogical to believe that out of 100 people, 90 sustain a system that oppress you and at the same time that an equivalent number of women are partnered with good men. It's not possible.

Getting into a straight healthy relationship with a man IS a part of radfem agenda, believe it or not. It means you actually expect the world to listen to your values and ideas and change accordingly. It means those of us who are not gay or bisexual will struggle less, and will be in less danger when seeking companionship. If you prefer separation or black pill it's fine, but it simply cannot apply to everyone - unlike the radical feminist beliefs against sexism.

🦥