#i'm cackling over this message

[twopoppies]

https://www.tumblr.com/twopoppies/768856520888926208/hi-gina-ive-been-thinking-a-lot-about-our-boys?source=share

Agree with anon about showing only what they want us to see and I personally know Louis is a fat liar because in 2018 he ordered a salad with his burger and he's like always , oh I hate healthy food . Kfc all the way and whatever . And I'm like , bitch you ordered a fat salad ( because Harry wants you to or because your digestion is fucked I don't know ) AND he had tea afterwards and get this , it wasn't Yorkshire tea like he claims all the time . No Gina . It was a fancy ass elderflower infused something ( will ask my cousin ) . So yeah , Liar Louis and can't lie for shit Harry are definitely together.

My cousin worked as a waiter in a not that fancy but fancy enough restaurant in London for three years and Louis has visited that place like 4 or 5 times.

💀💀💀

[camellcat]

if I put ten as gale weathers does that mean I get to have tentoo has my favorite girl jennifer? ...giggling

[scarletfasinera]

Debating posting about Vigilante (1983) on Facebook in order to trick all the idiot nerd boys that have crushes on me into reading it. That's how desperate I am. I can move mountains if I only have the courage.

[gloomwitchwrites]

Good evening to you. I thought about writing you many times but never had the courage to do so 😅 I saw a TikTok Trend some time ago and thought about the Reaction from our beloved task Force 141. How would they react when you "accidentally" sent them the message "He just left our house, you can come now. He'll be gone for some time". Basically pranking them by implying something shady. You can ignore this if it's weird of course. Thank you for your time and amazing writing 🙏😊

I'm so glad you finally got the courage to send in a request because I had so much fun with this one! Many many thanks because I pretty much cackled and giggled the whole time I wrote this. I'm not exaggerating. I adored this prompt. It not only gave me room for a little humor, but it also gave me the opportunity to be a little naughty!

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): established relationship, pranks & shenanigans, suggestive themes, mild sexual content, dirty talk, dirty thoughts, swearing, possessive behavior

Word Count: 1.5k

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if series

John Price

Five minutes.

Five. Minutes.

Five minutes and you're already causing problems.

John isn't surprised. Not in the least. Sometimes, you enjoy being on your worst behavior just because it stirs him into a frenzy.

John is sitting at a stoplight, staring down at his phone screen. A car honks but he ignores it.

He's gone. Come over.

There isn't anyone else. John knows this explicitly. Not because he completely trusts you—which he does—but because he knows your exact location at all times. He knows what you search on your phone and what things you look at on the internet. And because he knows that, he knows you're just trying to take the piss.

Locking his phone screen, John turns on his blinker. A few turns later and he's back home, marching through the door. He's not mad. Far from it. You just need a good lesson—a good spanking. Over his knee with a bare ass. That way he can watch it bounce, watch as you wiggle and squirm, hear you whimper, and watch as your arousal grows with each strike.

Then, and only then, will he keep you under him. Which is what you want anyway.

John walks silently and with purpose, approaching you as you casually lounge on the couch.

"You're home early."

John ignores the jab. "You're on one today, cabbage."

"Whatever do you mean?"

John holds up his phone. "Think I'm going to believe this?"

Your eyes widen but John can see the bluff. "I meant to send that to—"

"To me," interrupts John. “You meant to send it to me.”

"To a friend,” you correct, but John notices the smile you attempt to hide. “I meant to send it to a friend.”

No. You wanted John to come home—to be a bit neurotic, even a little possessive.

"Fine," growls John. "I'll bite."

He places one hand on the top of the back cushion while the other rests above your head. He leans in, lowering his voice.

"Who do you belong to?"

"You."

"Show me you mean it."

You tuck your knees in, drawing back your top and removing your lounge pants. When they're gone, you spread wide, revealing your glistening pussy. Your arousal is clear, and John cannot wait to sink inside.

"That's my good girl."

John "Soap" MacTavish

You sent the texts not long after Johnny left for work.

He’s gone. Won’t be home for hours. Come over.

At first, you believed that Johnny would get those texts and immediately turn around, to head home and bust down the door. He did no such thing. He didn’t even respond. Not a peep from him. You spent the rest of the day in limbo, unsure if Johnny received the texts at all.

So, when he does come home, you expect him to say something.

“Hey you,” he murmurs, going in for a kiss.

“How was work?” you ask.

“Good,” he replies, heading down the hall to the bedroom. “Had a briefing. We’ll be heading out for a mission next week.”

“Do you know when exactly?” you ask.

“Tuesday!” he calls back.

Nothing. This man is completely glossing over the fact that you sent those texts to him. When he reappears in nothing but a pair of sweatpants, you nearly swoon at his bare chest and stomach.

“What did you get up to today?” he asks, sauntering over to grasp your hips and pull you close.

“Nothing much,” you reply, and Johnny hums in reply, placing a kiss on your forehead.

“You know,” he says after a beat, fishing out his phone from his pocket. “You did send me a few odd texts earlier.” He taps away at the screen at turns it around to show you.

The texts you sent are right there, glowing brightly.

“Oh, those—”

“I checked the cameras.”

“Cameras?” you choke. “What cameras?”

Johnny grins and then he’s tapping away at his phone again. When he shifts the screen around, you see yourself and him in real time. You turn to the corner of the room from where the feed is coming from.

“I never saw anyone come over. But I did see this.”

Tapping again, he changes to an earlier time during the day. It’s a feed of the bedroom, and you’re masturbating. Johnny ups the volume and you hear yourself moan.

“There’s this, too,” he says, switching to the night before when he had you on all fours, ass in the air.

“Johnny!”

He tightens his hand on your hip, keeping you close. Lowering his voice, Johnny grins. “Try again, love.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

You watch from the window as Simon’s car pulls out of the drive. You wait until he turns the corner before unlocking your phone and selecting his name.

He’s just left. Come over.

With a wicked grin, you hit send, knowing that the texts will reach Simon any second. Leaning against the window, you wait, and then smile wider as Simon’s car sharply turns the corner and speeds down the street back to the house.

He’s hardly parked the car before he’s exiting the vehicle, storming toward the house, malicious intent clear with every step. With a triumphant giggle, you rush to the bedroom and flop onto the bed, pretending that you’re up to nothing at all.

You hear the front door slam, then Simon’s thunderous footsteps followed by doors opening and closing. Sprawling out across the bed, you tap away at your phone, acting like you're not bothered at all.

When he appears in the doorway, you deliberately ignore him for five long seconds before you casually turn your head and smile.

"You're home early," you observe.

Simon looms in the doorway. "What the bloody hell was that text about?"

"What text?" you shrug, all innocence.

Simon, deadpan, replies "He's just left. Come over."

"Oh. That was for a friend."

"Which friend?"

"A friend."

Simon slowly walks up to the side of the bed. "You're fucking with me."

"Don't know what you're on about, Simon."

The murderous demeanor you saw earlier melts away, leaving behind a mischievous glint that you know all too well. With a viper-like quickness, Simon grasps your ankle and yanks you to the end of the bed.

"Simon!" you shriek, but he's already flipping you over onto your stomach.

He plants both knees on either side of you, keeping you trapped beneath him, his large hands coming down on your wrists to pin them above your head.

"Was last night not enough?" he asks, voice a gruff whisper. "Or do you need another lesson?"

You lift your head as Simon transfers both wrists beneath one hand. He has his phone, tapping away at the screen.

'What are you doing?"

"Telling Price I'm not coming in."

"But you're scheduled."

Simon locks the phone and then tosses it to the side. "He'll understand." Pressing his lips to the shell of your ear, his voice drops to a breathy whisper. "I have a woman to breed."

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

It's cruel, perhaps. Even mean. But getting Kyle worked up is so goddamn sweet.

He’s protective, sometimes even a bit possessive, and nothing is hotter to you than watching him stake his claim.

Which is why you sent those texts in the first place—a way to make his heartrate spike.

He just left. He'll be gone for hours.

Kyle bursts through the bedroom door, his chest heaving as if he just ran several miles.

“Where are they?” he asks, voice a growl.

Kyle heads for the bathroom. Throwing open the door, he storms inside, but finding nothing, retreats back into the bedroom.

"Where's who?" you ask in mock innocence as Kyle opens the closet, pushing aside clothes as if he’ll find someone hiding there.

Kyle exits the closet, hands on his hips. “I saw the texts.”

“What texts?” You casually retrieve your phone, already knowing what you’ll find there. Opening up the messaging app, you click on Kyle’s name, and laugh.

“Sorry,” you giggle. “I meant to send that to a friend.”

Kyle’s eyes shut, and the sigh he makes is so loud you laugh harder. Clutching his own phone in his hand, Kyle shakes it in his fist.

“You’re having a laugh,” he says.

"No," you giggle. "Just a mistake."

That thin line becomes a smirk. Kyle tosses his phone onto the bed and you immediately know you’re done for.

“I know you, love. Think you’re clever, yeah?”

He saunters forward, and you push up onto your hands, sliding back along the bed.

“Kyle,” you warn.

“Tricking me just to get me home. For what? Think I’m going to bend you over the nearest surface and fuck you?”

Yes. That’s exactly what I think.

You scoot away, sinking into the pile of pillows at the head of the bed. Kyle matches your movements until he’s nearly horizontal over you.

“You’re right,” he continues. “I will.” His gaze roams over your body and then returns to your face. “But first, I’m going to train you into never making a silly mistake like that ever again.”

taglist:

@glitterypirateduck @km-ffluv @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@fern-reads @tulipsun-flower @miss-mistinguett @ninman82 @eternallyvenus

@beebeechaos @smileykiddie08 @whisperwispxx @chaostwinsofdestruction @weasleytwins-41

@saoirse06 @glassgulls @ravenpoe67 @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat

@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim

@voids-universe @iloveslasher @talooolaaloolla @sadlonelybagel @haven-1307

@itsberrydreemurstuff @z-wantstowrite @keiva1000 @littlemisscriesherselftosleep @blackhawkfanatic

@sammysinger04 @kylies-love-letter @dakotakazansky @suhmie

@keiva1000 @jackrabbitem @arrozyfrijoles23 @lovely-ateez @waves-against-a-cliff

@ash-tarte @marispunk @gingergirl06 @certainlygay @greeniegreengreen

[yuvany]

HEART SHAPED EYES

꒰ 𝐄𝐍𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐍 when they're caught admiring you ꒱

OT7 ENHYPEN x f ! reader CONTENT / WARNING(S) fluff WORD COUNT : 976 CHECK BOX !!

don't forget to reblog or like if you liked this !

𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚

"You look like a fool, Heeseung." His friend, Riki commented with a cackle and cheeky grin. "You don't get it, you're too young." Heeseung snaps back, his eyes still trailing your figure as you walk around the library with your friends whilst looking at books, giggling amongst yourselves. "If you really love her, just go and confess." Heeseung shakes his head with a click of his tounge. "I can't." "Then don't stare at her like you two are already together." Riki rolls his eyes and snaps his fingers in his face to wake his friend from his trance that you had unintentionally set him under. "I'm not staring!" He calls out, a bit too loud, accidentally making you and your friends' heads turn to him.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚

He had stayed behind after their training session to 'catch-up' on his own. The others believed him and told him goodnight before heading to their own rooms. Jay hums to himself and groove along to the songs he had been singing. Jay takes a deep breath and picks up his phone to send you a message. As he clicks the send button, he sprung up and throws his phone onto the bags for a cushioned landing before running around the studio. After calming down, he sits in front of the mirror and looks at himself before talking with himself. "y/n, you are so pretty and funny-" before he manages to finish, he hears the door creak open and Jake walks inside with a stunned face. "I heard that." "No you didn't." Jake then bursts out laughing.

𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡

He had created a playlist just for you, though it was more like a playlist inspired or meant for you since he never had the courage to confess his feeling. The playlist was labelled with your initial and a heart, and set on private so that no one, absolutely no one, would figure out his little secret. Jake had been playing the same playlist for what seemed to be over a week by now, but he could never get tired of it. One day though, he shared his airpod with Sunghoon. "This song is nice. What is it called?" He asked, and Jake carelessly handed his phone over to Sunghoon who looked at the screen, his eyes noticing the title of the playlist. "Am I seeing this correct?" Jake starts getting sweaty and gulps. "What?" "The name of the playlist is very...how do I say this." Jake snatches his phone back, cutting him off.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗡

You had tagged along for their photoshoot to help when needed. It all seemed to go smoothly, everyone knowing what to do and the day's schedule. You had gone onto your phone, trying to find something to entertain you when Sunghoon walks up to you. He clears his throat nervously. You look up and raise an eyebrow. "Hey y/n." Sunghoon stands there awkwardly with his hands on the sides of his body. "Hi Hoon. Need something?" You ask. "Could you help me with this tie, please." He says and hands you a navy and white striped tie. "Of course." You smile, and stand up from your seat. As you tie it around his neck, his eyes are glued to your face and slowly trail down to your lips. Of course Jake had to bump into his shoulder just then and give him a smirk.

𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗢𝗢

Everyone was gathered behind the scene, you as their special guest and vip to be able to support them from behind the stage. Everyone poses at the sound of their manager counting down and then the camera snaps. The two youngest run over and inspect the photo closely before calling the rest over as well. You take a quick glance at it and approve of it. "Could you send it to me later, please?" You ask, and they nod. You then take a look at the time and say farewell because you need to be part of the crowd, and they let you go after handshakes and hugs. "Sunoo, look here." Riki taps Sunoo on the shoulder and points to him in the photo where he is looking at something. "What is it?" Sunoo asks, and Jungwon who at first was confused finally seemed to connect the dots and balled up in laughter. Riki's pointer travles to where Sunoo's eyes are, and they led to you.

𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡

"You're doing it again." Sunoo sighs from beside him. Jungwon looks at him puzzled and then turn around again, trying to remember what he was doing. "Doing what?" He asks. Sunoo diverts his eyes over to you before looking at him again. When Jungwon doesn't get it, Sunoo repeats it again, but a lot faster and aggrevated. Sunoo sighs before leaning over to whisper to Jungwon, "You've been staring at her for a while. Again." When Sunoo parts he sees that Jungwon's eyes have been connected with you again. "So?" He asks. "So...it's creepy." Sunoo wrinkles his forehead in confusion and looks inbetween you and Jungwon before groaning and giving up.

𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜

When rehearsing, Riki finds himself turing to you for feedback and opinions even though he is a lot more of an exppert when it comes to dancing than you. "It literally looks perfect, not sure what input I should make?" You comment, shifting your weight from one leg to another as you speak with him, your eyes shifting around the room's ceiling. "Really? Thanks." He says and spins around, letting you be for a while. As he is faced away from you, he has a grin on his face. The rest of his group members stare at him with wide eyes as they look around to see if anyone else was seeing what they were seeing. "What?" Riki hisses after noticing. "You're lovetsruck and it shows bro."

[mattsfavoritestar]

I'M YOURS, chris sturniolo

midnight snack mini series.

synopsis… you started to grow tired of chris playing with your feelings so you decided to hang around matt instead. let’s just say he did not like that.

warnings… brothers bsf!chris, mean!chris (he’s such an asshole), toxic!chris, jealous!chris, possessive!chris (bros a walking red flag atp😭😭), sex tape, couch sex, creampie, no protection (WRAP IT B4 YOU TAP IT), big dick chris, rough sex, overstimulation, chris lowkey has a dacryphilla kink, and a breeding kink, kinda public sex (also kinda got caught)

@bernardsbendystraws for the dividers <3

the door opens to a sleepy matt rubbing his eyes. you couldn’t even look at him, but you still mumbled a small ‘hi’. you knew matt felt bad for you. he shook his head as he walked back to his room leaving you to close the door on your way in.

did you really sneak out your house to see the one person who despises you? the second you saw his contact flashing on your phone you immediately left. your heart was racing as you made your way to his room. of course the door was left open for you. of course he was laying in his bed scrolling on his phone with zero care in the world.

he looks up at you with those piercing blue eyes, a smirk playing on his lips. "you're late," he says, voice dripping with arrogance. you roll your eyes as you took off your shoes,"i had to make sure he didn't notice," you muttered.

chris motions you to come closer. by time you reached within arm's length, he pulls you close, his hands rough against your skin. "he doesn't own you," he murmurs, lips brushing against your ear. it felt like it had a double meaning, but you shrugged it off.

you were pulled onto his lap. chris immediately attached his lips onto yours. your hands found themselves at the nape of his neck, tugging lightly. he groans as he melts further into your touch. to him you were intoxicating. a drug. he wanted to pull you closer, but he didn’t.

then his phone rang. at first, he ignored it and continued molding his lips with yours but then messages started spamming his phone. you pulled back and sighed, “just answer it” you say. you got off his lap to sit on his bed. chris stands up then answers the notifications. his fingers moved quickly, and his face grew more agitated.

“go home” he stated. you look up at him with a confused look painted on your face. you exhaled, didn’t even want an explanation so you just left. as you made your way up the stairs you saw matt leaving his room as well.

“want a ride?” he asks. you nodded then followed him out the door. it wasn’t the first time matt took you home after chris kicked you out. matt was also well aware on how your clueless your brother is with you two sneaking around. the ride was silent. but silence with matt was never awkward. it was peaceful.

“no the insane part was the graveyard scene” you laughed. you and matt were sitting in the living room of his house. you’ve been hanging out with him for the past week to clear your head to avoid chris at all cost.

“you should’ve seen your face” you were practically crying how hard you were laughing. matt just smiled at you, he jokingly shoved you making you fall on your side laughing even more. the sound of the door opening stopped the two of you causing you to look up. nick walked in followed by chris.

“i heard you cackling from outside by the way” nick comments as he makes his way upstairs. chris didn’t even glance your way when he walked past. the room felt tense. suffocating. “ m’gonna go get ready for bed” matt mutters as he gets up to leave.

now it was just you and chris. it was so silent you could hear him breathing heavily from the kitchen. instead of saying a smart remark or pouncing on you, he left. he went to his room leaving you alone. you had so many thoughts running through your head. you didn’t even notice the drowsiness taking over your body till you curled up and closed your eyes.

you woke up to the sound of the tv playing and the smell of an all too familiar cologne. he was sitting right next to you. it was almost taunting.

“had fun with matt?” he asked. you wanted to pretend you were sleeping. but of course, chris just had to look down right at you. “still not talking to me?” he smiled mockingly. you sat up then pulled you knees to your chest, resting your chin on them. you heard chris shuffle a bit then felt him staring at you.

you didn’t know if it was your nerves or desperation that led to your body heating up. you felt him caress your cheek for a second before he grabbed your jaw and made you look at him. “my dick wasn’t enough for you? had to go see if matt would fill you like i do?” he asks in a taunting matter.

you felt the familiar burn of water pricking in your eyes. chris squeezes your face into a forced pout then pulls you closer. “s’the matter baby? you wanted my attention so bad before” his focus was on your lips, chris didn’t even seem to care about the tears dripping onto his hand.

you pulled back with full force causing you to fall backwards slightly. “m’not doing this anymore” you say trying to wipe your face. chris kisses his teeth then smirks. it wasn’t a playful or sexual one. he was pissed.

“yeah?”

he crawls on top of you, “you really think he can fuck you the way i do?” he snarled. his eyes looked darker than before. one of his hands gripped the top of the couch while the other pinned right next to your waist.

he was leaning down, practically hovering over your lips. that same hand that was by your side now shifted to your thigh. “tell me to stop and i’ll go” he whispered. you shook your head as you took his hand and guided him beyond your waistband and further down. chris closed the gap, interlocking your lips as you gasped at the feeling of his fingers sliding down your folds.

he was going at a slow pace, savoring the feeling. then he stopped and pulled his hands out. “why’d you stop?” you whined. chris smiled at you, “why don’t you go ask matt to play with your cunt?” he taunts. just as the previous tears finished drying, warm fat ones rolled down your cheeks. your emotions were heightened, a mixture of sexual frustration and anger.

you tried pushing him off you, but he barely budged. “why do you have to be such an asshole all the time?” you cried. you tried to wipe your tears again but this time chris pins your hands down, stopping you. “s’not fair you get to talk to other girls but i can’t even be friends with matt” you sobbed.

chris says nothing. instead, he peppers your face with kisses, making sure to kiss ever tear that fall. you tried squirming away, but he had you pinned down with his legs on both your sides. “wanna be my only girl?” he stopped to question. you hesitated before slowly nodding.

chris then fully sits up and pulls out his phone. he turns on the camera then props it on a pepsi can which stood on the coffee table. you watched as he positioned your legs to the side then take off both your pants and underwear. you closed your legs quickly as you looked back at the camera then to chris who was still smiling like a psychopath.

“trust me?” he asks. you replied in agreement before he flipped you over leaving your whole ass on display. a slap to your ass before his fingers dipped into your throbbing cunt. you moaned into the couch while your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

“c’mon baby show them how much better your pussy is than their’s” chris groans as he curls his fingers. he was stretching you, preparing you for his cock. his fingers slipped out of you and was replaced by a slap on your cunt. chris pulled himself out of his pants. he teases your clit with his tip then leaned to hover over you.

“don’t think i forgot about you ignoring me all week” he whispered into your ears before roughly buried himself deep into your cunt. you let out a choked moan. you had no time to adjust before chris started rutting his hips making sure you feel every inch, every vein.

“chris- “, you could barely get words out your mouth, “matt- room”. chris pulls you up by the neck, holding your stomach in place with his arm. “let him hear how good i’m making you feel” he kisses your neck, “maybe i should send him this video too. show him how much of a whore you are for me” he taunted.

you could feel him kissing your cervix with every thrust. the pain was overthrown by delicious overwhelming pleasure that made your head fuzzy and blank. it was like he was fucking you as hard as he could. you couldn’t even hear him mocking your hiccups or telling the camera how he owns your pussy.

“all yours baby m’all yours. only you” he groans into your ears. you reach to grab the back of his neck and pull him into a kiss. it was wet and sloppy; you were drooling and couldn’t focus on his lips. you couldn’t even tell him that you were close, but the constant clenching told him already.

you whined as you felt yourself grow more sensitive. “go ahead baby, cum on your dick” he says onto your lips. you tugged at the hair the curled on his neck as your vision went white and your legs started shaking. chris didn’t stop his pace. instead, he went faster.

he let you drop back onto the couch and grabbed your hips. this time he put one of his legs up causing him to hit a whole new angle. the overstimulation was a mixture of torture and utter bliss. he looked to the camera then let out a breathy laugh. “look how fucked out you are” he coo’d, “your dick feels this good, yeah? fucking speechless”.

chris’s rhythm finally starts to falter but his grip on your waist grew tighter. “m’gonna stuff my pussy so full, not gonna waste a drop” he groans. a final harsh thrust followed by pumps of a thick warm substance filled you to the brim.

he pulls out with a soft whine. chris then goes to stop the video before pausing. he noticed you haven’t said anything nor made a sound. he turned around to see your face smushed into the couch, drooling pooling by your mouth. your eyes looked heavy as if you were falling asleep you were were falling asleep.

chris pulled up his pants, turning off the tv, then picked you up not even bothering to pick up your clothes. as he walks towards the stairs, he smiles to himself noticing matt’s door wide open.

[somereaderinblue]

Odysseus of Troy AU

Inspired by the Warrior!Penelope AU, @maggie44paint's Malewife Menelaus AU & @theblindgoddess + DaughterOfDungeonBat's Penelope of Troy AU.

So instead of Helen, Paris chooses Odysseus, thinking he's the safer option because he's just the king of small, barren Ithaca & super smart. Baby Telemachus is also spirited away as extra leverage.

Paris thinks he's being cunning, hoping this choice can somewhat ease Athena's wrath as well.

At first, Athena is furious....but then she gives the go-ahead for 3 reasons.

Odysseus will give Paris hell.

Hera will give Paris hell.

This one is important: Penelope will give Paris hell.

Paris tells himself he's doing Penelope a favour! Now she can find another, more powerful husband & have another kid with him. Plus, she's a woman with a tiny kingdom, it's not like she'll come knocking on Troy's walls.

Newsflash: a furious Penelope comes pounding on Troy's walls with a vengeance.

(Bonus if she isn't even being backed by Ares here. Oh no, all that unstoppable rage is 100% pure Penelope.)

In Olympus, Hera & Athena are cackling and high-fiving over a bucket of popcorn. In Troy, Ody is going full Mission Impossible, being a monster (rawr rawr rawr) to Paris, mapping out servant passages, calculating how much cloth it'll take to make a long enough rope & hoarding tiny paper scraps and crumbs for bird feeding.

He goes all: Yes, I need more clothes. It's not my fault my clothes keep ripping. *wink wink*. Oh, I'm not supposed to be here? Silly me, I'm hopeless without Athena's wisdom now! Look at the cute birdie, little wolf! *slips a message onto them while his son's buried under feathers*

Athena is very proud of her master liar.

Bonus:

Hector & Ody ironically become good friends because they're both dads and loving husbands. Hector tells himself he will NOT get attached to the man who's singlehandedly screwed him, his family & Troy over......only to pat the guy's back as he sobs for the nth time over missing his wife. It's hard not to empathize with him & feel a little sorry for the kid who doesn't even remember his mom.

And maybe when Hector senses that the end is coming, he & Andromache ask Ody to take Astyanax with him. He won't have a future in Troy, but it's better than no future, period.

Thus, Penelope returns to Ithaca with her family one member bigger than before.

[the-flaneur]

dearest darling flan would you ever consider writing for lewis 😔 i do not see nearly enough fics to justify js how attractive he is and it pains me

dont go insane (lh44)

pairing: lewis hamilton x driver!reader, platonic grid x reader

summary: when george invites some of the drivers over for a drunken presentation night, what better topic to present than your speciality? lewis' di-...outfits

warnings: suggestive mentions

wc: 1243

a/n: your wish is my command 😉 may have deviated a little bit, but dont worry i have many more fics lined up for this very attractive man

[masterlist] [request]

“ok ok everybody, thank you for joining us for the very first annual driver’s presentation night, hosted by yours truly, george russell. a connoisseur of powerpoint presentations, if i do say so myself,” george grinned.

the driver’s spare meeting room, which had been earlier crammed with spinning wheelie chairs and long white desks, had been replaced with the comfort of some old beanbags and blankets, as you, max, george, lando, oscar, charles, and alex settled in for a very long evening. as the last words left george's lips, a round of uncoordinated cheers erupted from the drunken audience. max let out an especially loud whoop before nearly faceplanting into a beanbag. 

"you're all welcome," he said with exaggerated politeness. "now then, without further ado, let's dive right into our first presentation of the evening!"

he gestured grandly towards you, nearly losing his balance in the process. "everyone, please welcome the one the only, the illustrious and femioone-feminonnena…blimey…” he cackled, tossing you the screen remote, “oh you know who it is…y/n! welcome yourself up to the stage,” 

"thank you, georgie poo. and hello everyone, i'm very very happy to be here tonight to present a special look back at the goat’s fashion choices. i would’ve rather regaled you with tales of his other…talents, but george made me promise to keep it pg, cause there are children here,” you giggled in front of all your friends, with a pointed look at lando and oscar, who seem to look mildly offended.

“obviously as the stunning wife of formula 1's golden boy himself," you continued, clicking onto the first slide, which showed you and lewis posed together for his recent dior collection, the boys hooting and hollering appreciatively, “i am the best and the only person able to give such a presentation, so make sure you’re listening,”

more applause and whistling followed as you clicked through to the first slide of lewis from the 2024 met gala, “of course, we gotta start off with a newfound lewis hamilton classic, the 2024 met gala. simple, classy, a great message and followed the theme, unlike so many others,” you rolled your eyes at the last bit, as the boys laughed.

“i can’t believe he disses my fashion sense, when his older met gala looks are questionable,” charles groans, swiping to show the group a photo pulled up on his phone. you sigh when you see lewis’ zig zag suit from 2019; definitely not camp enough for you or 2024 lewis.

“hey cut the man some slack,” alex laughs, seeing your pouting face, as you continue to click through the slides showcasing his various looks. the room continues to fill with laughter and playful jabs both at your commentary and the well-meaning yet snarky comments from the other drivers.

on the seventh slide, a photo of lewis in a see-through mesh top from the early 2021 season appeared on the screen, which definitely caught the drivers’ eyes. his chiseled features were highlighted with the bright backdrop, and the material of the shirt definitely emphasised his broad shoulders and toned physique. as well as the absolutely sinful tattoos criss-crossing his biceps, yummy…

"he looked absolutely dashing here, didn't he?" you purred, voice dripping with admiration. pausing the presentation, you let the image linger on the screen as you continued, "and trust me, he cleaned up even better in private that night..."

the room erupted in good-natured eye-rolls and chuckles at your suggestive remark. lando, never one to miss an opportunity, quipped, "well, we all knew lew was a total “stud”,"

oscar snorted, "yeah, until he decides to show up to the races in a black shirt and pants with hummingbirds on it," the others groaned in agreement, recalling lewis' infamous (amongst the drivers) outfit choice from several years prior. you laughed, unfazed by the teasing, "okay, okay, i get it. but this look right here? classic lewis - sophisticated, stylish, and undeniably sexy,” pointing once again to another showstopper lewis look.

you continued to advance the slideshow to the next image, another candid shot of you and lewis leaving a glamorous red-carpet event hand-in-hand. george leaned in to whisper something to alex, both of them grinning mischievously. 

george, still smitten with his own awaiting powerpoint prowess, decided to inject some competitiveness into the situation. "alright, let's not forget why we're really here, shall we? fashion, schmashion - who still really wants to hear more about y/n's insightful analysis of lewis's wardrobe choices?"

the room erupted in laughter, as you shot george a stern look, "hey now, my presentation is far more interesting than your mediocre slide designs, george!"

undeterred, george retorted, "oh yeah?” 

your face grew warm at the snide remark, but a spark of competitiveness ignited in your eyes. "oh, i think i can handle whatever you throw my way, george! don’t mess with the best," with a dramatic flourish, you clicked the remote to advance the slideshow featuring a collage of george's most...questionable outfits from past casual outings events. the drivers gasped in unison, their jaws dropping at the sight of george sporting everything from neon-colored blazers to patterned socks that clashed with his trousers. even the most tame of them were at least questionable to the discerning eye.

max let out a low whistle, while lando and oscar burst into uncontrollable laughter. with a sly grin, you continued, “i wouldn’t get ahead with the insult boys…george ain’t the only one who needs to pay for fashion crimes,”

"let's start with you, maxie," you sighed, pulling up one singular image on the presentation, the red bull racing suit, “unfortunately, your one fashion weakness is that you have no variety. did you know out of almost all the media pictures people get of you, it’s like a 1 in 500 to get one of you not in your suit, let alone anything fashionably interesting. you really need to convince pr to dress you in something else. how else am i supposed to critique you?" you humph.

max held up his hands in mock defense, laughing along with the others. "clearly, it was a stroke of genius."

as your merciless fashion critiques continued, the room descended into a fit of giggles and playful jabs. even george couldn't help but crack a smile, impressed by your preparations. lando shouted as you ripped his metaphorical fashion career away from him, "you know, if you're going to tear us apart like this, maybe we should just let you design our outfits from now on."

"oh, i think i've got enough on my plate with being mrs. hamilton already. besides, i have a feeling everyone might object to me dressing up the entire f1 grid in matching juicy couture tracksuits." the group erupted in laughter once more, and max raised his glass in a toast.

"to y/n, the only person in this room brave enough to call us out on our questionable fashion choices," max declared, his voice laced with humor and appreciation, "may her sharp tongue and keen eye for style forever keep us in check," the others echoed the toast, clinking their glasses together.

“but don’t worry i’ve saved an absolute treat for last,” you giggled, clicking towards the next slide, and the drivers, not for the first time tonight, were speechless.

there, plastered across the screen was a very…tasteful selection of lewis’ best pics. and the title: best clothes = no clothes.

being mrs hamilton was so much fun ;)

permanent f1 taglist (comment or msg me to join)

@charlesgirl16 @tallrock35 @sweate-r-weathe-r @unlikelystay @alex-wotton

@daisyfreecs @euphorihan @louloucs @oikarma @dying-inside-but-its-classy

@fadingcloudballoon @princessminjikwon @nina-or-anna-or-nora

© the-flanuer || do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platform.

[moon7jay]

i would KILL for a hearing non-con but like in public, at a restaurant or something so public kink x somnophilia kink (?) pretty please

Don't let them hear you (p.sh)

Warnings : non consensual, stalking, public sex, chikan, exhibitionism, voyeurism, dub con(?), just pure filth

THIS WORK CONTAINS NON CONSENSUAL THEMES SUCH AS RAPE

if u still proceed to read I take 0 responsibility

"He's still looking" You whispered in to your phone, trying not to make it obvious to the man sitting 3 tables across from you that you had caught him staring at you like a creep.

"Babes maybe he just finds you attractive" your best friend answered and that option would have been viable if it wasn't for the eerie feeling you got from the said man.

"No you don't understand syd, I'm pretty sure I saw him earlier in the cafe today"

"at your part time?"

"Yes! and I've seen him there a couple more times before and he's always maintaining this weird eye contact with me it's so creepy" You said urgently, trying not to raise your voice more than an octave while simultaneously trying not to look in his direction. He was still staring at you, you could feel his dark eyes on your face.

"You do know that it's the most famous cafe around town right? Besides its so close to the university maybe he's just a random college student?" she tried to reason.

Maybe she was right. Maybe you were reading too much into the situation and maybe he really was a random stranger who happened to be around you most of the time by a stroke of coincidence. You looked up momentarily and met his eyes, a jarring shiver running down your spine when he stared back blankly, sipping on his coffee, his headphones hanging around his neck, gaze focused intensely on you. You tried to shake off the unsettling feeling creeping up in your chest and managed a small, polite smile in his direction. Maybe he was just someone who had a crush on you and needed some encouragement to talk? And if you were being honest..he was insanely gorgeous, that was the main reason you had noticed him at the cafe before.

What you weren't expecting was for him to go stiff in his seat and break eye contact. You watched in confusion and worry as he slammed his coffee down on the table and stood up, eyes downcast, hurrying towards the other side of the restaurant. You felt disrespected and confused while you watched his retreating figure. What the fuck was his problem??

"You still there? Y/n? What's happening?" syd's voice brought you back to the conversation at hand.

"Idk I smiled at him and he just...left, so weird" you whispered to her and she cackled

"Men" she snickered and you chuckled, finally breathing in relief now that he wasn't around and breathing down your neck

"Men" You laughed back, stirring the conversation onto the other topics while you finished your meal.

your phone dinged while you were waiting for your bus to arrive, the phone number was unknown, weird, you thought.

Your blood ran cold when you read the first sentence, a couple more messages flooding in one after another.

[Unknown]

[9:34] : your smile is so pretty, had to rub one out in the restaurant's washroom baby

[9:34] : can't wait anymore

[9:35] : you're mine you know, I just need to show it to you

[9:36] : fuck i know you're reading my msgs, r they turning u on?

What the actual fuck?

You cupped your mouth with your palm and turned off your phone, looking around frantically, the panic rising in your chest, but you saw no one around and it creeped you out more.

A relieved sigh left your mouth when you saw your bus pulling over, hurriedly getting inside and squeezing through the crowd, moving past pressing bodies to reach the end of the bus, leaning against the glass window and panting with the exertion and relief of finally being in a safe space, scanning the crowd to see if he was there.

The bus doors closed and you finally stood up properly, your shoulders relaxing, turning around to look out the window while u held onto the strap handles on the ceiling.

What a fucking weirdo, you thought. How did he even get your number? had he been stalking you all this time? How had you been so slow in noticing him?

you felt him before you saw him, his large hand coming up to engulf yours on the strap handle you were holding, pressing his body closer to your behind. Your chest constricted in acute fear, the position was so uncomfortable that you tried moving forward to create some space between you two, leaving the strap handle and pressing yourself closer to the glass windows, holding on to one of the seat handles instead. This can't be happening, how did you not see him get on the bus, your hands started sweating.

You knew you were in trouble when he shamelessly invaded your space again, both hands looping through your waist to rest against your stomach while he buried his nose in your hairs , inhaling deeply.

Your breathing became heavy, your nerves making you freeze. You looked around and realized that the bus was too crowded for anyone to notice anything inappropriate, with the way he was holding you, you almost looked like a couple. Almost.

Your eyes met an elderly man's and you were about to open your mouth to scream for help when you yelped from feeling a sharp object dig into your side. Your blood ran cold.

"Don't even think about it" he whispered. His voice was deep and husky, sending a shiver down your spine. You stilled, facing forward to not provoke him. He was so much bigger than you, his body practically covering yours. You did not want to die here tonight. He wasn't going to kill you was he? Would anyone ever find out what happened to you if he did? Tears started to gather in your eyes when you felt his hands squeezing around your body, touching and groping u like u were meat.

"U think anyone would care? look around you, these are all men sweetheart, they would probably jerk off while you cry for me" He chuckled condescendingly in your ear, his one hand moving up towards your chest, groping your boobs harshly, a gasp leaving your trembling lips at his actions. A satisfied groan left his chest at feeling you, his fingers digging into your mounds.

"so fucking big, ever fucked a cock between them baby?" He asked and a sob left your lips at his words. No one had ever talked to you this way before. It was making you feel so dirty, a weird feeling rising inside your chest.

He chuckled at sensing your discomfort, running his hands down your body, leaving your boobs and groping your ass through your skirt, lifting it above your rear cheeks, basically exposing your bottom half to the entire bus if someone were to look over.

"ever taken a dick in this gorgeous ass? fucked back on a dick while it pounded your tight hole?" He groaned, groping your hips and connecting his lower region to your ass, his actions pushing you forward to press against the glass. You pressed your hands against the window to gain some balance, the position giving him leverage to rut into your behind.

"mhmmfuck do u feel how excited you make me? " He asked groaning in your ear, running his tongue against it while his hard cock poked your ass repeatedly as he grinded against you. You could feel that he was big, a disgusted shiver ran down your body when you realised how violating this all was. But at the same time, a sick tingling feeling was beginning to throb between your legs.

"Take your panties off" He whispered and you thought you heard him wrong.

"w-what" You sobbed quietly, dreading what this was leading to, his fingers flexed impatiently at your sides, his hips moving against youu in a subtle grind.

"I said fucking take them panties off, you won't need them soon anyways" your hands shook as you slowly reached under your skirt to slide your panties off your legs, the implication of his words wasn't lost on you.

"fuck yeah" He groaned, snatching the lace fabric from your hands. You shivered feeling the cold air run between your legs, cursing yourself mentally for opting out of wearing pants today, more tears ran down your cold cheeks.

Slurping sounds reached your ears and you closed your eyes, trying to drown out the sounds of him licking into your panties. The sounds were so lewd, you wanted to puke. This can't be happening to you. The movements of his hips became fast, muffled moans coming out of his mouth while he rotated his hips to search more friction for his throbbing cock against your bare ass.

"You smell like sex you know? Taste like fucking peaches, so fucking perfect" He panted, burying his face in your underwear.

you could hear his excitement in your ear and it was starting to affect your body in a way that disgusted you. The moisture was beginning to gather in your pussy, body heating up from the assault.

"fuck this shit" You heard him curse and he pulled away from you, dangling sound of a belt being undone and pants being unzipped made your body shake in anticipation of the oncoming violation of your body. It was going to happen. You were going to be raped. More hot tears spilled over your cheeks, a sob building up in your throat.

"Name's sunghoon, remember that while I tear your pussy apart" he whispered.

"P-Please" You sobbed quietly even though you had no hope left when he was pressing his body into you again, a hot and heavy organ digging between your thighs.

"p-please no, please stop, I'll do anything" you sobbed again, a sharp gasp leaving your throat when he rubbed his cockhead against your entrance, gathering your slick.

"you're wet as fuck for me baby-shit-u like getting raped on subways yeah?" he chuckled, hissing through his teeth when he finally breached your opening, tearing through your cunt, impaling you on his monster cock roughly. A sharp pain tore through you, your pussy unable to adjust to the harsh entry, he was too big for you. You scratched against the glass window, resting your forehead against it to find some support as you sobbed in pain.

His mouth found your ear again and he started to thrust in you, groans of satisfaction leaving his lips upon feeling the tight clench of your warm pussy.

"dreamed of raping your cunt since the first time i saw you in that cafe baby" he panted, his words confirming your suspicions about him, but what use was that suspicion when you couldn't even protect yourself? His dick lodged itself into your womb again and again, a reminder of your foolishness.

"always so pretty, wanted to open your legs and fuck into you while everyone watched, that guy that works with you? He wants your pussy too, that fucker" He groaned and snapped his hips into you harder, a pained sob ripped through you again. Jake? No.. Jake was a sweetheart, he would never think about you like that.. . He would never -

"You're so unaware of the effect you have on men's dicks aren't you baby? - jesus fuck- if given the chance, everyone here would bury their dicks in this slutty pussy, raping it till they're satisfied" He groaned, chuckling condescendingly, as if mocking your naive nature with the constant pistoning of his hips into your cunt.

"pussy so good, so fucking tight and creamy mhmmn" he moaned into your ear in pleasure, more slick ran down your legs, your lower body burning up in arousal now, a sick pleasure running through your body as his dick kept bumping your cervix. His hands travelled inside your shirt and groped your breasts roughly and painfully, holding onto them for leverage while he thrusted into you like a madman.

"Oh fuck yeah, jerked off to this image so many times baby, fucked into my fucking fist imagining it was your cunt"

Your eyes closed, unable to stop yourself from moving your hips back on him, it was instinct, or maybe some sick part of you was enjoying this. Tears ran down your eyes again, but for an entirely different reason now.

"fuck yeah baby - he laughed in disbelief, his thrusts getting deeper now that you were meeting his hips halfway - fuck back on me like a fucking slut"

Your bodies found a rhythm and a lewd moan left your lips as the pleasure started clouding your brain.

"Yeah? Raping this pussy so good huh?" he panted, hot heavy breaths falling against the side of your face, his eyes rolling back in pleasure due to the insane friction of your lower bodies.

The sound of slick squelching and skin slapping was reaching your ears and you looked around to see if anyone could see you both. Your eyes met the elderly man's from before but this time his stare was different. A jolt of pleasure ran through you when you saw him squeezing his cock through his pants while he watched you getting violated.

You slammed yourself back on the dick that was moving in and out of you faster while you watched the lewd sight. Your hand moved down to lift your shirt up and bite its hem into your mouth so that your entire body was exposed. Your boobs already spilling out of your bra cups, being held onto by sunghoon who was fucking into your greedy cunt.

A sick satisfaction washed over you when you watched the elderly man haphazardly unzip his pants and slip his hand inside, his eyes watching your body get used and violated, his tongue hanging out of his mouth.

"Yeah that's right baby, show him what he's missing out on, show him how u like to get raped by random men's cocks like a real slut" sunghoon groaned , his eyes catching onto the scene your gaze was pivoted to.

A gasp left your lips when you felt sunghoon shift your body to the side so that it was facing halfway towards the man while still being hidden from the rest of the passengers. He lifted your right leg and held it up, holding it from under your knee, spreading you out, giving the pervert man a fucking show.

"Now he can see how my dick moves in and out of your creamy cunt, raping it so good that you're making a mess-shit baby just like that" He panted in your ear, his hips snapping harshly into yours. Your eyes met the old man's again and you moaned upon seeing his hand moving faster and faster inside his pants, drool falling from his lips.

fuck why was this so hot, what was fucking wrong with you??

Your hips moved back into sunghoon's, cunt slamming down on his dick, grinding and fucking back cuz your brain was broken, the thought of cumming overwhelmed your senses, your pussy leaking gallons of slick, making the act of penetration more pleasurable for the both of you. Sex getting messier and nastier.

"keep fucking it baby-holy shit- you need to keep fucking that dick, just like that oh yeah" His breathing was becoming heavy, your mouth was panting, working your body faster and faster to chase that friction on his dick.

His one hand left your chest and travelled down your body to rub your engorged clit, a sharp moan leaving your lips, making him slap you on the clit harshly.

"Don't let them hear u, or do u wanna get gang raped- he groaned, feeling your pussy clench at the thought- is that what u want? what a greedy little cunt" He chuckled hotly, licking into your ear cavity.

His thumb rubbed your swollen clit, making the knot in your stomach tighten, you were so fucking close. Your eyes met the old man's while sunghoon's thrusts became sloppy, his groans getting whinier , the pleasure getting too much for your tangled sweaty bodies. His pelvis met your ass in a few more harsh thrusts, his balls slapping the underside of your thighs

"You're gonna make me fucking cum, yeah fuck yeah make me fucking cum baby" He groaned, his high so close you could feel yours approaching too.

"cum cum cum, gonna cum in you, gonna take you raw, fuck my babies in that cunt, fuck jesus-ughmhmmm- his words cut off as his hips stilled , his dick spurting cum inside of you, your own eyes rolled back upon seeing the old man cum in his pants like a freak, your pussy clenched harshly around sunghoon's dick, milking him for all that he was worth as you came all around him, making him ride his orgasm.

"Shit yeah, feels so motherfucking good" He moaned, pushing his hips deeper into you, fucking his cum back into your cunt, breeding into you. His hold on your body loosened and his dick slid out of you with a pop when you heard your stop approaching. He shoved the panties in your hands and you instantly wore them back, adjusting your shirt and skirt while he watched, his zip still open and cock still hanging out, his hand fisting it to overstimulation, a pained hiss leaving his lips at how good it felt.

You turned around to meet his eyes and watch him jerk off his cock harshly, biting on his lower lip, pressing against your body again, his brows furrowed in pleasure, hot breaths falling on your face.

Your pussy was starting to heat up again, seeing pure carnal pleasure on his face was driving you insane, god what had he done to you?

He slammed his lips into yours and licked into your hot mouth while his hand continued to fist his dick, trying to make himself cum again. He groaned at your taste, his movements becoming faster. He pulled back from the kiss to rest his forehead against yours and stuck his tongue out, just a millimetre away from your lips. As if on instinct, you stuck your own tongue out to meet the tip of his, moaning at the feeling, rubbing your tongues against each other while he jerked off, saliva dripping down your chins.

When you sucked his tongue into your mouth, you felt his body jerk rapidly, pleasure overtaking his senses as he groaned into your mouth and came all over his hands, finally pulling away from you, sighing in relief and satisfaction.

The bus had reached your stop, coming slowly to a halt but before you could move to leave, he was bringing his cum covered hand to your lips "lick it clean" he whispered and you met his dark eyes, maintaining eye contact while your tongue snuck out to eat his cum out of his hands, moaning at the taste.

"Fuck" he cursed at the sight, watching as you licked his hand clean and finally walked away from him, licking your mouth clean with your fingers.

You were his perfect match.

[nnight-dances]

REPETITION / RARE LOVE

pairings: kim mingyu x fem!reader (ft. yoon jeonghan)

genre: fluff, angst, suggestive & sexual content

tropes: best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers (except mingyu's the only idiot), pining, flirting

warnings: explicit language, banter, alcohol consumption, borderline jeonghan slander but it's okay because i would die for the man, has been proofread by me once but only barely. kazuha (le sserafim) is your roommate, huh yunjin is present.

WHAT TO EXPECT

it's simple enough: you and mingyu are perfect for each other. you've told him as much but after years of him avoiding the topic, you leave him alone. but when your long-time infatuation with jeonghan gets rejected, you have nothing to distract you from your desire to be with mingyu. all it takes is you making out with the wrong person and a can of beer for mingyu to come to his senses. (about 11k)

OR: maybe you don't hate repetition as much as you claim to.

SEQUEL OUT NOW!

“why are men on tinder actually vile?” you question out loud, not quite expecting an answer as your eyes continue to read the offensive opener you’d received from a recent match. mingyu, who’s crouched on the desk across from you, frowns.

“y/n, we’re meant to be studying,” he points out, “but also i thought you were over tinder?”

you look at him blankly, “i am! i just gotta finish what i started you know…”

mingyu looks deeply disappointed in you and you slide your phone across to him, “look at this message i just got! it’s disgusting! i don’t need to know if someone’s wet at the thought of—”

“god, y/n, do you have to scream?” he asks as he takes hold of your phone, busying his fingers probably with blocking the guy. you momentarily look back at your screen where the black document meant to be the outline for your final art history paper taunts you.

you sigh, looking down at your phone when mingyu returns it. “i paused your account and deleted the app.” you sigh yet again, “man! if you were gonna uninstall it without my permission you should’ve just deleted my account.”

“you’d just make another one anyway,” he shrugs, “plus, this way when you go back you’ll remember why you left in the first place.”

you grumble something under your breath but resume your attempts at writing. mingyu smiles a little as he goes back to his own work. a beat passes before, he puts his pen down again and when he sees you’re staring at your screen distantly, he asks, “did you talk to jeonghan yet?”

you gasp at the mention of your years-old crush, glancing around you as if you weren’t in a private study room (because apparently the only way either of you could get anything done was while talking to each other). “what?” mingyu continues, “one of us had to address the elephant in the room.”

“wow, you’re just the worst friend ever, aren’t you? it’s like you can’t read rooms at all. i clearly did not want to talk about jeonghan.”

“well, now you are. so you might as well be honest with me. did you think about confessing to him?”

you deflate, stomach suddenly uneasy, “no. i don’t think i will. i don’t need him to know.”

“you kinda do. y/n, look at me,” mingyu knocks on the wood to demand your attention, “it’s the only way you’ll ever have an answer.”

“i don't want an answer.”

“…”

"because i'm going to move on from him!"

"..."

“okay, well, i’m starting to! just watch me, okay? i have the agency to not be completely consumed by my very shallow attraction to a very attractive and impressive man.”

“right. you just used attractive twice in a sentence— and no, i don’t care if it wasn’t the same form of the word, you absolutely hate redundant things. and yet, you refuse to recognize the way out of this pattern of yours.”

“you are so tiring, mingyu, you know that? exhausting, even. i don’t want to do this anymore.” you shake your head at him, suddenly invigorated to finish this damn preliminary proposal of yours.

—

yunjin cackles as she plops down across from you in the dining hall, finding you scrolling ever so dedicatedly on pinterest. “what’s this?”

you look up at her with a pout, “i need a dress for hoshi’s little party. it’s in two weeks and i have zero options.”

“fuck, i knew i was forgetting something,” she grimaces in her typical huh yunjin way and shifts closer, “i need to find something for that too. can’t just wear a corset and call it day since he’s labelling it a formal and whatnot.”

“he really is the worst,” you agree, pausing to muse over a pretty white dress with red roses all over it. “hmm, what about this one?”

yunjin tilts her head and nods as she looks between you and the dress, probably imagining you in it. then, you sigh, “it’s just i don’t think red is my color like that.”

you’re about to elaborate when you hear a gasp from behind you, “that is simply not true!” you don’t have time to react when a figure slides in next to you. goddamnit, it’s jeonghan, you realize, trying hard to keep it together when his shoulder comes to sit next to yours. “you absolutely fucking rock the color red.”

“i do?” is all you can muster as yunjin chokes out a badly covered laugh. you glare at her, “what’s funny, jen?”

“hah, nothing, i agree with jeonghan, you’d look lovely in red.”

you frown, unconvinced as you scroll some more, feeling dizzy from jeonghan’s presence.

“preparing for hoshi’s party i presume?” jeonghan asks and you nod. “i’m so stressed, i have nothing and it’s approaching so fast.”

“you have time though,” he reassures but you’re quick to protest, “i’m not going to have any time next week because we’re organizing that night flea market. i’ll be running around campus so i need to take a trip this week.” the beauty of going to a college with an isolated campus: peace and you gotta plan every time you leave campus because there’s a singular bus that takes you to the city. it’d be a whole day trip for you if not for mingyu, who thankfully has a car that he can drive.

“ahh, tell me when you’re going into the city, y/n,” yunjin pats you, “i gotta go too.”

you nod and then remember, “right of course, i just remembered kazuha saying she wanted to come too.”

“nice,” yunjin approves, “we need all the opinions we can get. did you get mingyu to agree to drive you yet?”

“i texted him earlier but he hasn’t replied, which is slightly concerning because he may not know how to spell but he does write back very fast.”

jeonghan chuckles, “mind if i join you guys too?”

you stop in your tracks, turning to face him, “you wanna come shopping with us?”

he nods, that sweet smile of his plastered across his face, “yeah, i could use a new formal outfit. i’m tired of wearing the same black suit to everything.” he nudges your side, “plus, you guys could help me out. i can never decide on anything all alone.”

—

“maybe i should just not go,” you groan with your head in your hands. mingyu rolls his eyes, slapping your back, “why would not go? if your problem’s with jeonghan, he should be the one to stay back. not you.”

you sit back up, staring at the eggs in your plate. beside you, mingyu chugs his glass of orange juice, and you lean against him. “god, i hate him so much. do you wanna go see if the playground’s free?”

“right now?” mingyu looks at the time. it’s 11 am on saturday, still an hour from the time everyone agreed to meet in front of mingyu’s car, which is conveniently parked right across from the playground. as if following your line of thought, he grins, “alright. but you finish your food first.”

you sigh, “okay, mom, i will.”

five minutes later find you racing mingyu for the best swing in the playground— months of visiting the place had taught you the first swing was the only one that didn’t creak too loud and experienced the least amount of bumps during the ride. mingyu’s fast but you’re stubborn so you reach out for his arm midway, sticking your nails into the skin, knowing how dramatic he is about these things.

he gasps, “DO NOT CLAW ME.” strong as he might be, he slows down to rip your grip off. you seize the opportunity, getting a headstart and laugh when you reach the swing before him, sitting down firmly before mingyu can pull you away.

“that’s cheating, y/n, you know it!”

“hey, you’re the one that has an advantage. you go to the gym like eight times a week. i go like thrice a month.”

“sounds like someone’s lazy and whiny to me.”

you smile, “someone lazy wouldn’t win that race. and you’re the one that’s whining,” you point to his stance, his arms at his hips like an affronted toddler. he loosens his body with a pout as he walks over to the second swing. “whatever.”

time passes a little too fast for you two when you’re fighting like this because kazuha’s running over to you, breathless. “y/n! what are you guys doing?”

“zuha, hi! did you—”

“yep, i got your lip gloss.”

you chuckle, throwing your arms around her, “why are you the best roommate ever?”

mingyu scoffs, “what about you being the worst roommate ever?”

kazuha laughs, too nice to agree with him, “hey, that’s not true.” you hit him in the side, “you’re just jealous that you’re in a single. i guess money really does make people lonely.”

“i’d go for a double even if i was that rich,” jeonghan’s voice pops up from beside you. he sure has a knack for appearing out of thin air. “i couldn’t handle being alone.”

“not everyone can love themselves as much as i do,” mingyu shrugs, smugly as crosses his arms. “i’m self-sufficient like that.”

“if you guys are done, we should start moving,” comes yunjin’s voice from near mingyu’s car, “it’s already fifteen past 12.”

“i call shotgun!” yunjin shouts and you’re quick to fight back, “no way, i already called it.”

“if i didn’t hear it, then it doesn’t count,” she teases, leaning against the passenger side. you glare at mingyu, “i called it in front of mingyu! the driver is the one that counts.”

mingyu laughs at the petty fight, “y/n did call it earlier this morning.”

“that’s not fair! mingyu’s obviously going to take y/n’s side, you guys spend every breathing minute together. the rest of us don’t stand a chance.”

you smirk, “don’t be a sore loser, huh yunjin, you can call it when we’re coming back. if you remember to.”

“i hate you,” she mutters as everyone settles into the car.

“i’m open to music requests, dear friends,” you announce once you’ve started off. “but i reserve the right to reject any tasteless songs.”

“isn’t this the textbook example of a tyranny?” jeonghan breathes and you shoot him a look over your shoulder, “hey, the power comes with the seat. it’s natural selection.”

mingyu groans through laughter, “you know you don’t make any sense. just play some music.”

you roll your eyes, “he says as he laughs his fat ass off.”

“she’s just salty my ass is fatter than hers,” he mutters under his breath. the three in the backseat break into laughs at that, all at your expense as you gape at them. such betrayal.

“i don’t know why i call you friends. you’re monsters.”

kazuha pipes in, “y/n, are you calling your sweet roommate a monster right now?”

jeonghan is quick to join in, “honestly, i’d say kazuha is the nicest friend among us here.”

“fine, everyone but zuha’s out to get me right now.” the screaming continues for a little bit longer until yunjin and kazuha tire themselves out and pass out. you chuckle when you look at them, yunjin’s head bobs in the middle of the three until it hits kazuha’s shoulder, whose head then rests on top.

swiftly, you pull out your phone camera and capture the moment, sure to tease them later. as you’re clicking the photos, jeonghan’s face sticks into the corner with a sneaky grin and you shift the angle to include him. enjoying the attention, he shoots the camera a peace sign, followed by a little heart, and then a cheek heart and now he’s a bunny and then—

you pull yourself away abruptly with a shaky laugh, “god, jeonghan, this isn’t a photoshoot.”

he laughs back, “ha ha, sorry, i can’t help myself. it’s so fun to tease you like this.”

you feel the blood rush to your face at that, so you turn to face the road completely, a weak, “fuck off” on your tongue. mingyu silently observes the interaction, not without a little side-eye that you don’t know what to think of. “you should get some rest, y/n, you didn’t sleep last night.”

you frown, surprised mingyu knows that and you don’t get to ask him why he knows that because jeonghan interrupts, “you guys sure are close. i was talking to hoshi the other day, he misses y’all a lot.”

“he does? he can just come talk to us whenever though,” mingyu replies, doubt tracing his tone. “i don’t think we’re exclusive like that.”

“right?” you agree, “we used to be so close to hoshi, too, and then he moved to the other side of campus this semester and now i have like one class with him.”

“i don’t know,” jeonghan says, “you should talk to him about it, but there’s always been something stronger about the two of you together.”

you shrug, “we always end up together. it’s not that deep i think. it’s just how it is.”

the topic ends there as jeonghan agrees and dozes off himself too. you, however, feel eerily awake. awake? no, more like unsettled. something in your nerves is off and you feel on edge. you’re a little spaced out after that, as you finally reach the city circle with all the shops crowded next to each other with a little mall in the center.

as everyone gets off and gathers their things, mingyu pulls you aside with a concerned look, “are you okay, y/n?” his grip on your elbow grounds you a little. you inhale, knowing better than to pretend in front of him, “yeah, just a little uneasy. i don’t know why. probably just tired.”

mingyu looks like he knows something more about your condition, “are you sure? we can take a break at one of the restaurants before shopping if you want?”

“nah, i’m okay, don’t worry. i’m a strong girl,” you smile, reasurring him with a pat to his chest, “i feel better now. thanks, mingyu.”

he frowns, hand loosening against your skin, “you never thank me, weirdo. don’t be so formal.”

“man, there’s no winning with you, is there?”

he chuckles as he pulls you after the others, “no, i’m insatiable.”

—

an hour into shopping, you realize why you hate doing this. everything is so overwhelming when you’re in the city, so many people, so many clothes. at least you have friends with you as you scan racks after racks, ending up with three potential dresses on your arm. you mutter a prayer in your head that you can find something nice here so you don’t have to walk more. this is already your third store.

the first one is a classic: a little black dress. it’s satin so it sits smooth against your skin and feels soft when you twirl around. it’s a little short for your liking, perhaps too tight against your ass. you turn to the side to get a better look. you take a photo and send it to mingyu, who you’d been going back and forth with. he’d last sent you a photo ten minutes ago: him in a stupid minion onesie. you’d cursed him out real well in response telling him to stop fucking around. he writes back fast.

big gyu: u look good

big gyu: kinda basic tho

you: yea i thought so too

you agree with that, putting the dress aside in case you don’t find anything else at all.

candidate number two is more over the top: a long red dress with little black patterns on it, with a leg slit on one side. getting into it was a whole struggle but you get it on finally. it fits well thanks to the slit which also shows off some skin. you’re hot in it: like literally. the long sleeves don’t help at all. but you look good too, the flare doing wonders for your figure. you pause, sending a photo hoping mingyu would be of help.

however, when mingyu takes longer than a minute to reply, you groan, already sweating a little. concluding that he’s probably changing or something, you peek out your curtain, hoping yunjin was still in the stall next to yours. you call out her name, straining your neck to see if there was anyone else you could ask for help.

you spot jeonghan walking around the shelves near the fitting rooms and before you can hesitate to call him over, he notices your head poking out. he raises an eyebrow, sending your heartbeat into a spiral. “y/n? do you need help?”

you clear your throat, “um, yeah, i need a second opinion on this dress.” jeonghan approaches your corner and you panic when he reaches for the curtain to draw it back. his eyes question you, “can i look?” you let go of it to let him in, a tiny little rational part of you wondering he needed to come inside the room to see.

“ohhh,” he exclaims as he takes you in, “you look amazing. told ya red was your color.”

you turn away from him a little, “this dress is hot.”

“it sure is,” he agrees and you blush harder, “no i meant, like literally. i’m so hot right now.”

jeonghan presses his lips together, giving away the fact that he understands but being the little bitch he is, he chooses the option that makes you wanna combust. he presses two fingers to your cheek and mumbles, “yeah, you are.”

you push his arm off, “yoon jeonghan! you’re such a damn flirt! get out of here.” you force him out of your space and he’s uncontrollably laughing as he lets you. “i’ve another dress to try so wait outside for me.”

“sure you don’t need a hand changing—”

“no, thank you very much!” you scream, greeted with more pleased chuckling. your phone buzzes, catching your attention. you lean down to look at it.

big gyu: niceee thats hot

big gyu: u should get this dress

big gyu: pls

big gyu: pls

you: …girl why are u begging me

big gyu: because.

big gyu: you’re getting this dress right

you: no i’d die of overheating in it

big gyu: and it’d be worht it

you: i dont like how enthusiastic u are about this...

you: wtv this one's rejected.

you: i still have another dress to try

you put your phone down to try the final dress. this one was a purple slip dress with white flower detailing. it was skin tight against your boobs and a little transparent, giving away your black bra underneath. and to contrast, it sat a little loose on your hips which was honestly not the worst look, keeping from the dress becoming too scandalous. you enjoyed this dress the most so far. that was enough, given the track record.

“you done, y/n?” you’re startled when the voice outside is mingyu’s instead of jeonghan. you pull back the curtains in confusion, “gyu? what’re you doing here?” mingyu stops short, “fuck, i like this one.” you flush a little when you notice his eyes settle on your chest for a beat too long. “that’s stunning, for real.”

you laugh. “look at you using big words. but yeah, i think this is the one.” you look over at him, “did jeonghan leave?”

“um, yeah, he said he had to use the washroom when i ran into him on the way,” he mumbles. you nod, a little relieved because you think you’d die if he saw you right now. “anyway, i’m offended you were showing him your dresses and then all i got was a photo.”

“hey, you were taking so long to reply that i had seek someone else out. he just happened to be her.”

mingyu ignores that and tells you to hurry up, “i need your help choosing something for myself.”

“ugh, alright, give me five.”

in the end, you decided you’d get both the classic black dress and the slip dress, you needed more dresses in general. wouldn’t hurt to have more. when you’re done checking out, you find mingyu in conversation with kazuha who’s smiling with a shopping bag in her hands.

“zuha, you get anything?” you ask. she nods eagerly, “yeah! i got this pink dress that jeonghan helped me find just now. it’s really pretty, i’ll show you later in the room.”

you falter a little at that, glancing at mingyu who’d told you he went to the washroom. ignoring the growing unsettling gut feeling, you inform her you’d found something too. “nice, we should have a try-on in the room later.”

“you guys!!” yunjin joins the group, “this is insane. i hit the jackpot and found the sexiest green dress ever.” you laugh, linking arms with her, “you should come over later and try it on with us.”

“ah, the beauty of womanhood,” mingyu grumbles beside you, and you shove him. “you’re not invited, pervert.”

his jaw falls open, “excuse me? what did you just call me?”

you press an index finger into his bicep, “don’t think i didn’t notice you checking my boobs out earlier.” mingyu’s cheek redden at the light-hearted accusation, worsening when jeonghan appears right at the climax of the argument.

“okay, okay, first of all, i wasn’t checking anything out!” he complains, “and-and well, they—”

jeonghan cuts him off, patting his back with an amused smirk, “it’s alright, buddy, it happens to the best of us.” everyone laughs at that, much to mingyu’s chagrin who then becomes pouty for the rest of the walk to the next shop.

“c’mon,” you pull him into the store, “my turn to stare at your tits.”

“god, would you drop it?” he groans as he follows you in. “it won’t happen again.”

you giggle, “it’s okay with me, gyu, because that just means the girls look good.”

he groans again, “i really don’t need to be a part of this.” he wanders off into the store, embarrassed. you let him go, looking at clothes for him separately. turns out shopping for mingyu is harder than the concept of it sounds. it doesn’t help that he’s an expert at criticizing the small detail in every item you choose for him. half an hour later, you’re tired of him.

as if on cue, kazuha calls you to tell you to come over to an asian restaurant nearby to grab lunch. you thank the lords as you pull mingyu away, “there’s nothing here for me anyway,” he grumbles as you meet up with the rest.

entering the restaurant, you spot kazuha and jeonghan at a table nearby. yunjin’s still on her way it turns out as you sit across from them, heart in throat for the worst reason possible: you’re jealous. you may be down bad for jeonghan but that doesn’t mean you’ve lost your ability to take a hint. trying to keep the thought from completely forming in your head, you make conversation with everyone, wanting to be better than this.

you want to avoid thinking about it so you’re quick to shut jeonghan off. he’s his usual self, joking around with everyone but he picks up when you’re not as receptive as usual. you hope he just thinks nothing of it, but you know that’s not possible when he approaches you after lunch as everyone else is washing up in the bathroom.

you’re outside alone, waiting, when he slightly pushes your shoulder to draw your attention. you gasp lightly. “jeonghan?”

“can i talk to you for a sec?”

you frown, “yeah, you’re talking to me right now.”

“come on, y/n, don’t be cold. let’s go for a walk.”

“but, the others—”

“i let mingyu know we’ll be back in a few.”

out of excuses, you silently follow jeonghan’s stride through the busy street. he makes conversation really well, easing you up in no time as he distracts you from what was on your mind. it’s illegal how smoothly he then proceeds to drop the act.

you’re laughing about what he’d said about hoshi’s drinking habits just now, when he suddenly goes serious, “i think i like kazuha.”

you freeze up at that, fighting the frown that itches closer, looking at him like you didn’t hear him. heart’s out of control right now, but at least you were already expecting this outcome. “huh?”

“sorry, i just thought you should know. i’m really into her and i was planning to ask her out sometime this week.”

you would love to pass away right now. immediately, you think you hate jeonghan for doing this to you. it’s clear from his behavior that he knows you like him and that he’s apologizing— he’s rejecting you before you have a chance to confess. he likes kazuha. he’s going to ask her out. you should know that.

you sputter awkwardly, “that’s great! good for you, jeonghan. and um, you really didn’t have to tell me. i’m sure kazuha would love to be with you.”

you never want to speak a word to anyone ever again and you're sweating ever so profusely, so you speed up a little, “and we should get going, no?”

sensing your mood, jeonghan follows along but says, “i’m sorry, y/n. i- i know you…”

you don’t let him finish because it would genuinely kill you to hear him say he knows you like him. “you don’t have to be sorry.” with that, you essentially leave your body. you move fast enough to reach the car, wordlessly getting into the passenger seat and yunjin somehow knows better than to fight you.

the car ride back is filled with music. not much chatter. you realize it’s partly your fault and silently dread being back in the room with kazuha, but to your relief, when you reach she doesn’t bring anything up. you’re too tired to do a try-on like you promised and when mingyu asks if you want to come over to his place, you tell him you’re feeling sleepy. and for once, you actually sleep after telling him that.

sleep is not as much of a comfort as you’d hope for it to be: less of an escape, more jeonghan-themed content. something about heartbreak and living the rest of your life, lovelessly.

—

the next week starts off hectic and you’re thankful for it this once. you could use the chaos of organizing an event to take your mind off things. a small part of you wonders if jeonghan was being merciful by letting you down and timing it so well. knowing him, that doesn’t seem so impossible.

you feel better than you’d imagined you would. you cried like once since the rejection. you didn’t need to worry much at this point, having realizing that it was less important that you’d made it out to be. mingyu, on the other hand, doesn’t give up his worrying, especially when he doesn’t see you until three days into the week. and that, too, because he gave up and thought it would be a good idea to invade your room, at one in the night.

his knocking wakes you up fairly quickly, since you’d only put your phone down a few minutes ago. you rush to the door, afraid of waking kazuha up. “what the fuck, mingyu?” you ask at the sight of him.

“what the fuck yourself! stop ignoring my messages maybe?”

you groan, stepping outside your room, feeling the cold air hit you in your night clothes. “why’d you have to confront me so late at night? can we do this tomorrow? when i’m coherent and not half-naked?”

mingyu falter as if he just realized the time, noticing your tank top and shorts. “i don’t care. i’ll give you my jacket but we’re doing this right here and right now.”

you sigh, knowing this was coming. “forget it, keep your jacket. i’ll go change and be right back.”

mingyu grabs your arm when you try to go back inside, “how do i know you’re not just gonna leave me here to die?”

“dude, my room’s right here. you can come watch me change if you fucking want.”

he lets you go, flustered when you offer and you laugh as you rush back in. in the darkness, kazuha’s voice startles you, “y/n? is everything okay? are you being abducted?”

“oh god, zuha, you scared me. and no, it’s just stupid little mingyu who wants to have a talk. i’ll settle this. go back to sleep.”

she groans, “god, you guys are just like my parents sometimes.”

you laugh at that as you slip into a hoodie and exchange your shorts for pajamas. when you return, mingyu’s sitting at the stairs in front of your room and you hit him in the back.

“ouch! fuck you!” he stands up with a glare, “also i heard what you said about me. why am i stupid and little? can you just choose one insult?"

“let’s go down if we’re gonna argue. zuha can hear us, too. and did you hear what she said after that?” when he seems clueless, you go on, “she said we remind her of her parents sometimes.”

he coughs, “her parents?? what are we, married?”

you roll your eyes, “married and sick of each other, apparently.”

“being zuha’s parents doesn’t sound so bad honestly. she’d be the easiest child to raise.”

“i feel like zuha would raise you if you were her father,” you laugh, “me too, probably.”

“who’d be the father then?”

your smile falls when an answer occurs to you, you mumble, “jeonghan,” sitting at a bench outside your dorm. mingyu joins you, equally solemn now.

“did something happen between you two?”

“yeah. he rejected me when we went shopping that day.”

mingyu’s eyes widen, “what? you confessed?”

you shake your head, a strained smile, “he already knew. i guess i was obvious, but it’s still driving me insane that he rejected me without even giving me a chance to confess.”

“i can’t believe he did that. that’s conceited as fuck.”

“conceited or impressive, i can’t decide. but he told me likes kazuha and that he’s sorry. i genuinely wanted to die when he said that. he was cool about breaking my heart, too. lowkey fell a little harder for him.” you laugh at your own joke, but mingyu looks unhappy, jaw clenched like he’d tasted something bitter.

you hit his arm, “it’s not a big deal, dude. i was thinking about it the past few days and i realized i barely knew the guy. i just knew what he told me over the last year.”

after a pause, “and he’s one beautiful man, so there was that.” you smile a little.

“but he didn’t have to do it like that. he could just stop flirting with you, you know, or wait for you to come around and confess like a normal person,” mingyu says, “he’s such a little jerk.”

“hey, it’s okay, a little flirting didn’t hurt anyone.”

“yeah but he was leading you on, leaving you in ambiguity by doing that. he should’ve been flirting with kazuha, not you.”

“okay, now that’s starting to hurt,” you whine, pressing your forehead against his shoulder, “but i can’t really blame him, no? kazuha’s so precious.”

“don’t be like that, y/n.”

“what? be like what?” you look up, “didn’t you also used to be into kazuha?”

mingyu bites his lip when you bring his years-old crush up, “when will you forget about that? that was so long ago and it was barely serious. she’s too nice to be my type.” (what does that even mean? you wonder but don't have the time to ask.)

“sure, you didn’t want to change residence halls to be closer to her?”

“alright, how many times do i tell you that i did that because of you? why do you never believe me?”

“it just makes more sense the other way,” you mumble, suddenly feeling teary-eyed and hating that you were feeling teary-eyed, which only intensified the teariness in your eyes. “god, this is stupid.”

mingyu’s arm is around in no time when he notices you curling up, your lip tucked between your lips in anticipation, “hey, hey, c'mon, i thought you said it wasn't a big deal. so how come you're crying?"

“because! i feel lame. and because kazuha’s perfect, by the way. she’d probably cry too if she knew i was crying.”

he pulls you closer, “you’re not lame, y/n. you think i’d keep you around so long if i didn’t think you were insanely cool?”

you breathe through your tears, “you just keep me around because i’m insane?”

“insanely cool! open your ears, idiot.”

“you just called me an idiot. idiots are pretty lame.”

he sighs when he feels his tshirt get damper, your body so weak under his hold. he pats your hair softly, “sorry, that’s not what i meant. but seriously, y/n, you know i’m bad at saying this stuff but i seriously cannot stress enough how highly i think of you.” his hand moves to rub your back, “and you’re so much more than perfect, you know? like sometimes you don’t do a paper till three hours before and still get an A. and then, you come up with comebacks to my arguments in your own unique ways, and trust me, nobody can argue with me like you do.”

you pull away, “all right, now you’re embarrassing me. why do i sound like a bossy nerd or something?”

“you can be that at times. hey, but you forgot the part where you’re hot as shit. and also pretty.”

“i feel like that last part was an afterthought, mingyu,” you bite back a laugh, “you really only keep me around for my tits, don’t you?”

“dude, can you let me wholesome for once? i’m trying to console you, so would you stop playing devil’s advocate?”

“sorry, i’m just,” you hesitate with a heavy sigh and then, you blurt out, "i’m scared i’ll never fall in love. i’ll never find it at all.”

“now that’s some stupid thoughts you’re having,” mingyu shakes you by the shoulders, “you’ve just been blinded by your crush on jeonghan for so long that you haven’t explored anyone else at all.”

“are you volunteering to be my crush right now?” you ask, jokingly.

mingyu’s smirk catches you off-guard, “what if i am? it wouldn’t be the worst thing if i was your boyfriend.”

you feel yourself heating up a little for some reason, head in a daze from his earlier shower of compliments and now this. so instead of trying to make sense of it all, you press yourself into him in a hug. “yeah, it wouldn’t.”

—

“hoshi, you little shit!” you throw yourself around the guy when you spot him on the night of the flea market, the product of a long and actually insane week. he laughs when he realizes it’s you, pulling you into a hug, “bro, y/n, why is this my first time seeing in you in literal years?”

“i don’t know, i just kinda see you walking around sometimes. maybe if you actually showed up to econ class, i’d see you more.”

hoshi flinches, “you can’t be bringing econ up right now. that class is kicking my ass. i can’t keep showing up to that kind of humiliation.”

the two of you catch up at last, as people swarm around the different stalls set up along the college street. you were relieved after having finished this damn event. cheers to sleep, right?

hoshi tells you all about his new situationship with a guy in another class and how he’s regretting inviting him to the party tomorrow night. “why? believe it or not, people are more fun when drunk.”

hoshi rolls his eyes, “yeah, well, i couldn’t get any more fun. so instead i become incontrollable. an absolute animal.”

“right, i remember that. so you’re scared you’re gonna drive him off? i wouldn’t worry honestly. and if you want, i can keep you in check.”

he narrows his eyes in distrust, “you? you’re not much better than me drunk, okay? i feel bad for mingyu who’s gonna have to take care of you the whole time.”

you gasp, “wow, you’re taking mingyu’s side now? over mine? i thought we had something special.”

“you thought wrong,” comes mingyu out of nowhere, slinging his arm around hoshi’s shoulders.

“why are you here suddenly?” hoshi looks between the two of you, “i couldn’t not come to an event my lovely y/n herself planned, could i?”

hoshi laughs, “nice to see you two as jolly as ever. but also i must take your leave. i gotta go grab dinner soon.”

“hey, why don’t you come with us? we were gonna check out the new outlet the college opened.”

“oh, i would love to but i have plans with someone already.”

you nod your head in realization, “right of course, have fun. not too much, though. leave some for tomorrow.” he leaves with a full-toothed smile and you face mingyu.

he playfully pinches your cheek, “you confront him about missing us yet?”

you raise a shoulder in response, and as the flea market starts to fizzle out thanks to the darkening sky, your stomach grumbles. “let’s eat, please.”

ever since that night— you don’t want to say anything had changed between you and mingyu because your friendship had been long enough that even the slightest shift in dynamics would harmoniously just become the new status quo; the two of you had been through a lot together. but ever since that night, you’d been fooling around with him more, if that was possible.

it was along the lines of: less banter, more flirting? although one might argue that the former was just a derivative of the other. but semantics aside, this is what you know to be true: friends flirt with each other all the damn time.

that’s what you’re telling yourself when mingyu asks you to feed him some of the fried rice you’d gotten on your plate. and it was true: you’re almost a 100% certain that you’d flirted with every friend of yours, and that was just how it worked.

but intimacy came differently to everyone and mingyu’s just manifested in clinginess. he was pressed to your side for the entirety of dinner, and you couldn’t complain about the proximity. it was welcome, even, this form of friendship.

“you’re thinking too hard.” mingyu’s voice pulls you out of your little reflection session. “what’re you even thinking about? you should be all burnt out from all the work you did this past week.”

“i am,” you affirm, “but some things just don’t let up.”

he chuckles, patting your head affectionately as if to persuade your thoughts to let up for a while. it doesn’t help really, only gravitating the direction of the said thoughts toward kim mingyu even more.

“maybe repetition isn’t as bad as i always make it out to be,” you say, chin propped up against your fist on the table. mingyu had chosen a corner table of the newly opened eatery, next to a low window that glowed behind you in the remains of sunset as he shifted to completely face you. the sun had finally set. again.

“you’re right. routine is good for people.”

“but it doesn’t have to stay the same forever, you know?”

“hm?” mingyu can’t help but feel like you’re edging toward some underlying topic. you were like this since he could remember: you’d start off with some abstract and vaguely relevant concept (that had no doubt been plaguing you for a long time) and slowly circle around till he caught onto what you meant. you love playing games with him.

“repetition doesn't have to be redundant? i think there's something more subtle about it.”

he doesn’t know where you’re going with this, “but repetition is literally the same thing over and over?”

“yeah, but the ‘same thing’ itself can evolve,” your fingers knock against his, “i don’t know, i was just thinking about… us.”

“us? i guess we would be a good example of repetition.”

your gaze falls from his to find your hand instead, your fingers wrapping around his wrist until you’ve forced his palm open. his hand in your lap upside down, you pull at the fingers, “yeah, but we’ve changed a lot. for one, we fight a lot less. sometimes when i’m going to tell you a thought, you understand mid-sentence what i mean.”

“yeah, well, that’s what we get for knowing each that long. but really, what’s this about, y/n?” he captures your hand in his expertly, pulling your attention back to his face.

“do you ever think we should be more?”

mingyu breathes a laugh at that, a shiver running down his spine when he spots the solemn look on your face. and then, his smile turns grave. “y/n, we’ve talked about this before, haven’t we?”

“have we? every time i’m the one who brings it up and you kinda just shrug it off. no, don’t even try to argue with me. you shrug the serious stuff off. always.”

it’s true, mingyu admits in defeat, mind racing as he considers why you’re bringing this up now. the answer is easy: you were finally available. but he doesn’t say it out loud, like he never does. you’d confronted him about the state of your friendship before, unafraid to wonder out loud what it would be like if you started dating. you’ve received all forms of shut-downs from mingyu before so you figured you were the only one in an ambiguous place about your feelings for him.

if someone was to ask if you like mingyu, you’d probably say yes, but it’s more than that. you know better than to blindly fall for him. witnessing him in his relationships before, you know he can be ruthlessly cold to his partner once he’s out of love. you practice romantic love for mingyu: carefully because too much would definitely be dangerous.

“i have my reasons, y/n.” there it is. the strict mingyu. the rigidity in setting his boundaries was something you admired and aspired for when he exhibited it in the past. right now, you want to punch him.

you’re without a filter with him so it’s unfair when he treats you like this. you let him know as much: “i want to punch you right now. i’ve hidden nothing from you, and yet, there’s this wall you keep yourself behind. is this really one-sided?”

mingyu doesn’t know what to do with you right now, “y/n, why are you—”

“no, because it's not like i can't take a hint. so one minute you're flirting with me and then, you push me away like right now,” you point to his estranged fingers, “but then you act like nothing happened and go right back to being all intimate and touchy.”

“i just…” mingyu lets out an exasperated sigh, “i just don’t see the reason for labels. why do we have force ourselves into a restriction like that? we’ve always been above conforming.”

it’s your turn to sigh heavy enough your head hits the wall behind you. wasn’t this just his way of friend-zoning you back into silence? you’ve always been too embarrassed to push him this far because you don’t mean to hurt him. but you feel as though you’ve hurt yourself long enough now.

“so why’d you say that the other night? that it would be nice if you were my boyfriend?”

this leaves him speechless for a few beats and you continue, “that was just because i was heartbroken from jeonghan? you’re playing prince charming for me so i can go back to being your trusty little best friend?”

“y/n, you know that’s not true. i’m not playing anything in your life. i’m just being myself.”

you scoff, “you really are so fucking—”

“why are we actually fighting right now?” mingyu asks through an incredulous laugh, “this is actually so petty, dude, let’s stop. you know i love you, right?”

mingyu’s last resort makes its presence: a non-committal i love you. because at the end of the day, you’re still best friends. what was a little ‘i love you’ in today’s economy? nothing. especially when you’d hear him throw the phrase around all the time.

you stand up in defeat, “fine, let’s stop. you win.” you gesture for him to move to the side and he does so reluctantly when you glare at him like you’re genuinely mad. (you are.)

he follows you out the door, catching your elbow to slow you down. “don’t be like this. i know you’re mad at me.”

“i’m not mad. i'm tired and i just want to go back to my room,” you seethe, walking faster than him. he grabs hold of your shoulder turning you around.

“if you’re gonna storm off, at least go the right way.” you huff softly and let him steer you the right way to your dorm, hands still on you. you spend the way to the front of your room silently, waiting for mingyu to say something but he just does what he does best: take care of you.

as you reach the door of your room, he pauses, apologetic smile on display. “listen, let’s talk more tomorrow? get some sleep.” he reaches for your hair, tenderly running his fingers through the locks. there it is: the soft mingyu, his eyes wide as he stares you down for signs of stress.

his warm arm pressed againsts yours, you realize you don’t want him to just leave. you know the drill: tomorrow morning, he’ll text you to meet for lunch and everything will go back to being unsaid. maybe he’ll bring along seungcheol so you don’t bring anything up again. either way, it’ll be so natural you’ll think nothing ever happened. but you want something to happen.

so your hand settles around his bicep to hold on and partly to keep him in place. you lean in, “let me do one last thing and if you want to stop, i’m never bringing this up again. i promise.”

you don’t give mingyu a moment to react to your words and instead raise yourself up to his level, other hand on his chest, and press your lips to his. you kiss mingyu after the thirteen years that you’ve known him and the ten that you’ve wanted to. you counted the years just as you count the seconds that it takes for him to come to his senses and pull himself away.

he looks less upset than you imagined: more dazed. like he can’t believe what you’ve done. he looks at you with his lips parted and you have to tear your gaze apart, lest you should tear yourself apart with longing.

“y/n, i…” he looks away and that’s enough evidence you need. you step away from him, your easy smile back in its place, not before you pat his arm as it falls from you.

“it's okay. i understand. let’s be friends, mingyu,” you declare suddenly, catching him off-guard. you'd pulled all the stops and if he genuinely was uncomfortable with pushing the line between platonic and romantic, you would respect that.

he begins to say something but you don’t want to hear him speak, at least not right now when the sound of blood rushing to your head is the loudest it's ever been, and you certainly don’t want to falter again. you’ve decided. “good night."

—

mingyu should feel relieved. he really should be happy that you’re back to normal around him, friendly and playful like you’ve always been. he should count his blessings that you’ve accepted the status of your relationship with him as it is. but as he falls asleep that night, all that comes to his mind is the smile you’d sported as you asked to be friends.

it was all wrong: your lips against his, that was something of his dreams, not a reality he has to be escaping from. it replays in his head, your scent that he’d caught a whiff of now and then, whenever you’d wrap your arms around him. the heat of your skin he’d rationalize as the comforting presence of a friend for days later.

he’ll soon come to know how insanely stupid he’s being right now but until you knock some sense into him, he simply plays along with a sting he hides pretty well. he should, he’s been doing it for years now.

it’s the night of hoshi’s party already and he’s walking over to the location of the pregame, alone because according to a text fifteen minutes ago, you’re still not ready. you’d invited yunjin and some other friends to your and kazuha’s abode to apparently make the process easier, but if mingyu knows anything about the group, you’ve probably spent more time selecting the right song to play than get ready.

the door to dino and hoshi’s shared residence is already open as he strolls in, finding a group already on the floor, taking shots. he makes eye contact with jeonghan who beckons him closer and mingyu takes a seat next to him.

space is scarce so mingyu finds his arm pressed uncomfortably close to jeonghan’s, who oohs at mingyu’s fit, “ooh, you look positively sexy.”

mingyu grimaces, “do you have to put it like that?” he does look … positively sexy, mingyu admits, in the navy blue shirt he wore but— and here’s the punchline— with the buttons undone all the way to right above his navel.

“where’s y/n, by the way?” jeonghan asks, an eye at the entrance as he slides a shot glass toward mingyu. the question irks mingyu for obvious reasons and he keeps him waiting for a minute, waiting to down the liquid in glass (vodka unfortunately for his throat) to answer him. “um, she’s still getting ready. any minute now.”

“ha, that means she’ll be another ten. that’s a shame, i was hoping to pour her first shot.” jeonghan shrugs resentfully.

maybe the alcohol’s working faster since it’s been a while for mingyu, but his mouth runs faster than his head, “why’d you care? i thought you asked kazuha out a while ago.”

jeonghan raises a brow at that, “hmm. i did. but things did not work out so well. what with kazuha feeling guilty about y/n and… well, i also…”

“feel guilty?” mingyu asks, voice strained. he’s annoyed at having to listen to jeonghan’s side of the story. he could not care less about humanizing him and whatnot. he’s watched you suffer for far too long to be empathetic right now.

“yeah. and i thought i might like y/n, too, after all.” jeonghan says it so casually as if discussing his performance in a particularly challenging college course, not his feelings for a person who he’d recently rejected.

the word might pierces mingyu’s ears. the uncertainty behind it is in such stark contrast to his own… feelings toward you that he genuinely feels his breath heat up.

or maybe that’s just jeonghan when he leans over to refill his glass. “drink up, buddy.” mingyu’s just about ready to make a scene right now, shoving jeonghan’s hand off his back but suddenly jeonghan’s standing up, making his way to—

you. you’re here.

almost as soon as he catches sight of you, he looks away, pretending to give the vodka in his hand all the attention in the world, as he puts his lips to it and empties it. head is now light. that’s probably enough for now, he decides as he puts his glass down.

when he looks back up, you’re at the kitchen counter with yunjin and kazuha.. and jeonghan, who’s grinning as he hands out the bottles of fireball to the group, no doubt marketing it so convincingly that you’d think you came up with the idea yourself.

mingyu shoots to his feet, regretting it when his vision darkens but he pushes past, eyes focused on your figure— god, he forgot how hot you look in that dress. he tries to keep his thoughts in check as he approaches you, but it doesn’t help that your makeup’s even more meticulous than usual, eyes glittering and lips delightfully glossy.

he breaks into the space between you and jeonghan, arm against yours, catching your attention.

“my guy!!” you exclaim when you see him and then your eyes trail down to his chest and then back up to his face where his hair sits parted with the help of some gel. “you look like a slut. i love it.”

mingyu laughs, subjecting you to a similar once-over, “you’re one to talk.” your hair’s back in a bun of sorts, a rare occurrence because you seem to prefer have it around your face. he can’t help but pause at your exposed collarbones, the gold shadow you applied there earlier doing wonders to his already dazed headspace.

“is it already that part of the night where mingyu starts hitting on everyone?” yunjin complains, reserving the alternate version of her question (something along the lines of how impolitely he’d been eye-fucking you in front of everyone) for some other time as she nudges you to open the fireball in your hands.

you do so, looking at jeonghan who offers one to mingyu, which he refuses as he leans against the counter, hand silently at your back just in case. “you’re not drinking?” you ask, quietly enough only for the two of you, just in case he wasn’t comfortable sharing.

“nah, i just had two shots of vodka back there. trying not to mix for the sake of me tomorrow,” he mutters, patting your back encouragingly, “but let me know if you need help finishing that.”

jeonghan eyes mingyu on the side as the trio clink their bottles together and get to downing them. later, as things start picking up and more people make their way into the party, mingyu finds your arm. “do you want me to stay close by?” he frames the question in a way that you have an out, because he can tell that you’re still unhappy with him.

but you’re tipsy when your hand interlocks into his, “only if you’re going to dance like you mean it.”

the night goes better than you expect it to, especially since mingyu’s let loose for once. or perhaps… he’s always this carefree when drunk, palms kneading at your waist, keeping you close to his chest, which you try your best to not get too used to touching. he sure knows how to keep you on your toes (sometimes literally) even when wasted because you’re trying not to get too close. for you own sake.

that is until hoshi shows up beside you two, pulling you apart as he introduces you to a friend.. or a partner? you can’t hear in this state and just as you try to lean in closer to hear what he’s saying, you feel a presence at your shoulder, fingers poking you.

you turn to find jeonghan behind you, sloppy smile on his face as he screams something at you. you frown, asking him to repeat himself, hand on his bicep to steady yourself against the movement of the party.

“need to talk to you about something!” his words come at you, clearer. “right now?” you shout back, “what the fuck is it?” your body doesn’t want to stop moving so you groove against his side, and momentarily catching a glimpse mingyu’s heavy gaze on you. you almost completely stop then but jeonghan’s pulling you away, after him to a relatively emptier zone of the house.

you’re breathless, you realize, now that the spell of the music’s been broken. you rest against the damp wall behind you, uncaring as you look around for a liquid to quench your thirst. cunning as ever, jeonghan’s already handing you a plastic cup with a transparent liquid.

you narrow your eyes at him despite how wasted you are. “what’s this?”

he laughs, “i’m glad you’re vigilant as ever. this is water. cold. drink up.”

you comply, your throat throbbing ever so lesser after you’re done and you sigh in relief. “you might have broken my heart but you’re still an angel, jeonghan.”

“ahhh,” he exclaims joining your side against the wall. you frown when you take note of his fingers clasped together, almost fidgeting. yoon jeonghan, fidgety? that’s a first for you.

“actually, that’s what i wanted to talk to you about…”

when mingyu looks away from hoshi and his company to see if you were listening and when he finds out that you’re in fact in jeonghan’s embrace, he’s suddenly sober. and when your eyes find his for a moment, something in them changes and he calls out your name like a warning. but then jeonghan’s already leading you elsewhere.

mingyu wants to follow after you immediately but he realizes hoshi’s still talking to him. “hoshi, bro, can i find you in a while? i gotta make sure y/n’s okay.”

but hoshi stops him in his tracks, hand on his chest, “wait. please tell me you told her…?” he trails off uncertainly as mingyu catches on what he’s saying.

“i haven’t,” he admits, eyes still searching the crowd for you, “but i think it’s time that i do. only so much i can take.”

“that’s the spirit, man! okay, now go kiss y/n for me.” hoshi pushes mingyu with a start, not before the the latter shoots the man a glare and takes off in his search for you.

you’re still in that corner with jeonghan, who’s done narrating the past week’s revelations to you, all about his failed attempts with kazuha and his slow understanding of his real feelings about you. you’re far more unaffected that either of you was expecting, arms crossing in thought.

but then you say, “well, that’s fucking stupid. because i’ve realized i wasn’t as down bad for you as i once thought i was.” jeonghan’s smile falls a little with a disappointed sigh. “but,” you continue, “you know what i’m still curious about?”

when your hand creeps up jeonghan’s shoulder, he thinks he knows where you’re going with this. “i’ve wanted know if you’re really as good at kissing as everyone makes you out to be.” jeonghan’s already moving closer to you, enveloping your face in his hands, and his devilish grin’s spills out as his lips find your ear. “let’s find out?”

and that’s how mingyu finds you wrapped around jeonghan, making out like this was your last day living. and for a moment, he considers giving up and letting you have this. he even stops in his tracks in the crowd, his thoughts so easily drowned out by the music if he just lets go.

but his mind’s reeling when the sight of you kissing someone else just pushes him back a day ago when you were leaning up into him, soft breaths risking your lips against his and the way your body pressed into his just right. his feet move without a thought, then, shouldering through the bodies around the two in the corner.

you’re just pulling away from jeonghan to start to say something about how that wasn’t too bad when his body is lifted away from yours with an unannounced jerk. you gasp and then once again when mingyu’s face comes floating in front of yours.

“mingyu,” you breathe, unsteady from the series of events this past minute, “what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“what the fuck are you doing?!” he screams in your face, hands on both arms to keep you from moving. jeonghan’s walking to your side and you want to say something to apologize but you’re far too infuriated with the man in front of you to think.

“i don’t know! trying to get laid? finding happiness? love?!” you scream back with as much force. you call out jeonghan’s name, “i’m sorry. mingyu’s too drunk to—”

“jeonghan,” warns mingyu when the guy tries to break you free from his embrace, “can i have a minute with y/n.” it isn't a question.

jeonghan has the nerve to say, “maybe not. i wouldn’t leave you alone with her in this state.”

“oh, she’ll be just fine,” he replies and jeonghan simply looks at you for confirmation. but you’re still looking at mingyu, starting to tear up, head throbbing all at once. you stop fighting against his grip and mumble in defeat, “whatever.”

“if you’re going to lecture me about being bad, i don’t really want to hear it.” you’re back next to the kitchen counters with mingyu beside you. slowly, you sit yourself up on the surface, feeling exhausted. “i’ve heard it before.”

“no, that’s not what i’m doing. i just want you to stop and think clearly—”

you groan when you hear the beginnings of a typical you’ll regret this in the morning type talk, you slide off the counter and to your delight, you run into a guy holding up a can of beer for the taking. you’re quick to jump at it, grabbing it up from him and pulling the tab of the can open. just as you put the beer to your lips, ready to chug it, you feel it being pulled away, the next few moments occuring before you can comprehend anything.

suddenly you’re sitting back on the counter and your dress rides up when you feel mingyu push himself in between your legs. at first, you see his face close on yours and then the taste of beer meets your throat. no, it’s not just beer— it’s mingyu. his tongue spills onto yours, beer mixing with saliva and when you try to pull away, his hand at your neck tightens. you sit up straight and you feel his watch digging into your spine.

your head spins when you can finally breathe, inhaling only to cough out. heart in your throat, you look at mingyu in disbelief, “what the fuck!” but he’s already taking another sip of the beer and some of it slides down your throat into your dress, when his mouth finds yours again.

you’re weak in his arms, and the heat between your legs is only so rational. so you find yourself giving in and kissing him back when the liquid runs out, nails finding his scalp, earning you a deep groan that vibrates against your chest. that’s when he pulls away again, eyes finally meeting yours with an unprecedented intensity.

he leans in again, wet kiss against your cheek, followed by a grunted whisper of, “i love you so fucking much, y/n. it’s so hard to watch you run around with other men.”

you want to think you’re hearing things but mingyu doesn’t let you, another kiss right in the nape of your neck that sends shudders down your back. “i want to be yours so fucking bad. want to spoil you like you deserve.”

you swallow against the moan that rises in your throat, to pull mingyu’s face back to your eye-level, “then why aren’t you mine? why’d you push me away?” your voice breaks, betraying the pretense of indifference you try to prop up. his eyes soften, fingers brushing against your forehead.

his lips quiver and he sighs defeatedly. it’s a miracle you can hear him with all that noise around you. but you hear him clear as day against your hair when he finally says, “i’m scared. of loving you too much, of being too much. and i’m scared of losing you.”

mingyu’s imagined telling you these exact words before and how you’d react to them infinite times before but when you giggle into his collarbone, he pulls away with a blank look. your forehead is against his all over again and for the second time night you say, “that’s fucking stupid! if you were going to lose me, it would’ve happened a while ago.”

of all the things he’d imagine you saying in response, this was the simplest option, so unlike your usual overthinking self. maybe it’s the alcohol and adrenaline in your system speaking but mingyu somehow feels comforted, because maybe it really is that simple. it would’ve happened if it was going to. or maybe mingyu’s too drunk to make sense of it all right now.

so his lips are moving against yours once again, without warning, your breath all his when his arms tighten once against around you. you’re laugh grounds him enough to break away. you open your mouth to complain about the distance when mingyu’s back against your skin.

“shut the fuck up,” he groans, the command making you hotter than you’d like to admit. your legs close around his ass, pulling him closer and his hand slips across your boobs. the friction of his palm against the tight fabric of your dress makes you let out an undignified moan into mingyu.

that’s when he knows he needs to take you to somewhere more private for reasons more than one. you’re too lightheaded to move yourself so mingyu’s carrying out the house without a word anyone you two came with. it’s only when the cold air hits you that you realize you’re outside.

you struggle against mingyu until you're back on your feet and stop. “where are we going? i’m— do i know you, mister guy?” for a second, mingyu’s heart sinks when he wonders if you thought you were just making out with a stranger. then, you say, “i need to go back and find mingyu. gotta kiss him.”

ignoring the blush that colors his face, he grabs hold of your elbow, “i am mingyu, idiot. and we’re going to my room.” you shake your head to clear your vision, eyes widening when you recognize him. your hand finds his face with a light laugh, “ah! it’s my big guy.” the name doesn’t help mingyu’s condition at all, so he’s pulling you after him faster than before.

back at the party, kazuha starts panic when she realizes she’s lost hold of you, unable to locate you anywhere within the party. she tugs at yunjin’s sleeve who looks over in concern, “what happened to y/n? i can’t find her anywhere.” yunjin laughs at that, covering her mouth with her hand. “don’t worry about her. i saw her and mingyu leave together earlier. she’s probably in heaven by now, if i’m right.”

“hmm?” kazuha pauses as a thought pops up into her head, “wait… did they…?” yunjin grins knowingly, “yup. it really was high time they fucked.” the former lets out a satisfied giggle, “i know. they were so obvious without even being together. i was getting tired.”

“you were getting tired?!” you gasp at mingyu later in the night, panting against his pillow. you’re on your back and he throws you a tshirt of his to sleep in now that your dress is… demolished. you look at it sadly out of the corner of your eye. “i really liked that dress,” you whine, as he picks the remains of it up with a somewhat smug grin, “planned to wear it out again.”

“i couldn’t risk that. you looked too good in it,” he chuckles to himself as he jumps into bed with you. you sit up, feigning anger as you slip the cotton over your head, warming up when the smell of mingyu greets you. “i don’t know if i could resist seeing your tits out like that.”

you hit his chest hard with a lighthearted scoff, “i knew it! you’re such a pervert. not just a pervert, you’re also a brute.” you groan as you rub your thighs together gingerly. mingyu props himself up, pulling you down into a hug, rubbing your back. “sorry, does it hurt a lot?”

“it’ll hurt more in the morning,” you relax in his arms, pressing a loving kiss into his hair, “should’ve known you went so rough. asshole.” you giggle when he pulls away in disbelief at the last insult.

“how could you—!” you roll away from him, laughing. he shifts closer, caging you against the wall behind you, “hey, you can’t say stuff like fuck i knew you’d have a big dick and then expect me to go all vanilla! do you know what that does to a guy?”

you shriek in embarrassment, “don’t bring that up now!” your ears redden when mingyu forces you by the chin to look up at him. “besides, where do you think the nicknames like big gyu and big guy came from?”

mingyu’s jaw falls open at the revelation and you break out into a fit of laughter at his mindblown expression. “how- how long have you been thinking about my di-”

you hit him to stop him, “ever since you kept pushing me away,” you run a hand down his side, sly grin on your swollen lips, “and i had to come up with something if i wanted to get myself off alone.”

with an exasperated groan, he falls against you, suffocating you as his body goes limp above yours. you let out a gasp when you feel him hardening against your leg and he speaks into your neck, “you’re seriously telling me i’ve been missing out on taking you like this for… for how long now?”

you kiss his cheek, hand slipping down his boxers with a soft exhale, “a while. and if you hadn’t come to your senses today… well, i’d all but given up on you today. when jeonghan kissed me, i was just going to—”

suddenly your breath escapes you, mingyu’s hand around your throat and his lips on yours with a loud grunt. he stops your hand in its movements, “please tell me you’re not talking about jeonghan while— fuck!” he gasps when you bite his lower lip to protest his hand on yours. his hand gives way and you’re palming the tent in his boxers again, pushing him down against the bed, so thankful he doesn’t have a rooommate in times like this.

you place a kiss at the corner of his lips and trail down his chest, shirt long gone, before muttering, “forgive me?”

—

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

i really want to write a more wholesome ending but have not the time or energy right now, so i'll be back with a shorter spin-off/ epilogue of sorts about how you and mingyu as a couple work out, how your friends react, some skinship, etc.

anyway, this is my official announcement that i've become a baby carat :] didn't know how much i was missing out on before svt so this is very fun. so far, jeonghan's my favorite little guy, although as is clear from this... mingyu makes me do things. on the roster are: minghao and joshua. hopefully there will be more svt fics in the future. no promises <3 goodbye friends and foes!!

[ghostbsuter]

Water drips down in the corner, the steady dop drop drop— does wonders for the bat.

Batman has been taken, tied up, and undressed of his utility belt. It takes him a second to figure out who took him, by the large but empty and run down warehouse, the sound of the shore not far away.

The docks. He shuffles, bound and comm off.

Then, the steel enforced door slams open and Joker enters.

"Batsy!" He calls, overjoyed. The man walks to the bound vigilante and crouches to his height.

"It's been so long, hasn't it been?"

The vigilante grunts. "Joker."

"Today will be different." He goes on, "today, we have," the crime Prince drums his fingers on Batman's thigh. "A guest!"

He freezes at that, Joker has a civilian.

(Oracle sends out the message, her voice firm, and the coords are shared to the rest of the clan in seconds as she looks at her monitor. Batman's red dot at the harbour bright.)

"I'm a guest now?" The voice of a child asks, it brings slight confusion that the boy wasn't tied nor harmed in any way.

It's relief that he seems okay, but the danger of standing next to the Joker has Batman wiggling in his restrains.

"Is that a promotion or demotion for son?"

A brief look of annoyance enters Joker before being smoothed out, the boy is dealing with a delicate time bomb. Uncomfortably close to the madman.

(He hurries in the process of breaking free.)

"My son! My blood!" Sings the clown, throwing his hands around the boy's shoulders and prancing around.

Which brings another question.

Son?

Cool lighting hits the boy's head and the tuffs of pink, blue and green become more obvious, hidden beneath black hair previously.

Joker and Harley have a child. A son.

He will visit harley later. The boy comes first.

"Dante! Danyal! Daniel?" Joker croons, shaking the boy. "What was it again?" He stops, turning his son toward him with a grin.

(Robin drops down behind him, hiding, katana ready to be swung.)

"Danny, actually," the child— Danny– shrugs off the hands and steps back. Unflinching from the judging stare, simply waving off the hands creeping to his throat.

"Danny," the name is tested, and the Prince of Crime hums to himself. "We can always replace it as Joker Jr! It fits you better than Danny."

(Red Robin and Spoiler get on position above them, ready to pounce from the construction pillars.)

"Yeah, I don't know about that." He chuckles nervous, catching Batman's eyes and—

His eyes alone scream of fear, scared– scared—!!

"We will get you an acid flower, a new suit as well, the hoodie looks horrible on you." The man notes, humming.

"I prefer hammers." Danny replies with tense shoulders.

Joker clicks his tongue, "You always went after your mother." he hisses, outright glaring at his son now. His hand tightened around the crowbar he'd gathered not long ago.

"I mean," he hesitates, eye trailing off the Joker and over his shoulder. "I did come out of her."

The sound of a loaded gun shatters the silence, and Joker is pulling Danny, switching their positions and pushing him right in front of the gun in Red Hood's hand.

"Always a coward, hiding behind others, aren't you." Danny stops himself from squealing. That's the Red Hood!

(Escrima sticks light up with electricity as Red Hood speaks.)

Joker is ticked off, party ruined and surrounded now that he looks around.

Oh well, he can get his son on his villain path another day.

Cackling, he evades the escrimas, dodging the wonder boy and evading the twin attacks from above.

He pulls out a trigger and presses the bright red Button.

"Have fun bats and birds!"

The warehouse is completely flooded with fear gas, scarecrow wouldn't be mad he sacrificed one of his warehouses, will he?

It's all blurry. In one moment, his view is shrouded, and he's coughing. In another, he gets picked up and brought outside, the Joker gone.

An oxygen mask is placed on him by a paramedic, being handed off to an ambulance that had been called.

Peeking around, he sees Red Hood (!) still lingering around. Danny catches his eye and with a wave, the man is walking towards him.

He simply crosses his arms and tilts his head, waiting.

"Could I get a picture?" Danny blurts out, flushing after and coughing, holding the oxygen mask in his lap.

Red Hood makes a show of his shoulder sagging before crouching down and leaning toward him.

Later, Danny will look at the picture with a boyish grin, crooked and charming.

.・゜-: ✧ :-

A continuation

[bijouxcarys]

Ain't Nobody's Business (Roman Reigns x fem!Reader)

WWE Masterlist

Description: Gionna's incessant teasing about your relationship with Joe comes to a head when you're pushed too far. On the bright side, it leads you to confess what you've been wanting to get off your chest for so long... **THIS IS THE SEQUEL TO "PROVE IT" **

Warnings: NSFW, MINORS DNI, fluff, smut, aftercare, hurt/comfort, oral sex (f and m receiving, 69, daddy kink, pet names, praise kink, mild spanking, comfort sex, cum marking, unprotected sex, idiots in love, multiple orgasms, fingering, spitting, dom/sub, lord forgive me, what am I talking about I'm a satanist <3

Word Count: 12.1k

Tags: @empressdede @thetribalqueen @heauxvibez @bigsimperika

@cyberdejos2 @keyaho @headoftheetable @jstarr86 @southerngirl41

@tshepisho @cry1nwhileimcumm1n @maeb99 @thedesireds @dzdndcnfsd

@expert-texpert @niknakbucks92 @sillyteecup @trentybenty @pittieprincess22

@electronicwitchsandwich @thefairywithboots @eringobragh420

(If you want to be tagged in any future Roman or Damian fics, let me know!)

The night sky over Belfast was clear, a welcome switch up from how chaotic everything was back inside the arena. The show had been electric, and it was just another reason to add to the list of why European tours were Y/N’s favourite live shows to take part of.

“Fans are always so loud over here,” she commented casually, eyeing her phone in her right hand as she adjusted the strap of her gear bag slung over her shoulder with her left. Her muscles were all tensed up and aching from her match with Trinity, but it was a familiar and welcoming sensation. This was what she signed up for, and it was never not worth the pain.

“What can I say? My people know how to make some noise,” Becky answered, a clear sense of pride in her voice.

“You can say that again,” Colby cackled with his tongue sticking out, wrapping an arm around Becky and pulling her in.

“Ew,” Gi scrunched her nose up, looking at Y/N with an exaggerated grimace. The two of them hung back slightly, behind Colby and Becky, and Gi had done nothing but eye her all night with that infuriatingly knowing look.

Ever since Miss Daddio over here had overhead that night in the hotel she’d been relentless with her teasing. And Y/N could just feel it coming again, the inevitable moment when Gi would start poking at her, trying to get a rise out of her.

“So,” Gi began casually as the four of them approached the car, “Who are you texting?”

Y/N didn’t look up from her phone, trying to keep her features neutral. “Nobody interesting.”

“Mmhmm,” Gi hummed, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “That’s why you’ve been glued to that thing since your match, right?”

The phone buzzed again with a new message just as she spoke. Y/N glanced down, a little flutter in her chest when she saw Joe’s name on the screen.

Joe: You on ur way back now?

Gionna leaned in, trying to catch a glimpse of the screen. “Is that who I think it is?”

Y/N quickly tilted the phone away, typing out a quick reply.

Y/N: Yeah, just leaving the arena now.

“You’re sooo bad at hiding it at this point, Y/N.”

“And you’re sooo good at getting on my nerves tonight, Gi.”

Joe: You good?

Becky and Colby were already in the front of the car, Colby behind the wheel and Becky beside him. Y/N and Gionna slid into the back, settling in for the ride back to the hotel. As they pulled out of the parking lot, the conversation in the front resumed. They were super amped about the rest of the tour, and more so about the fact that they’d actually be able to be together the whole time. And Y/N would be lying if she said it didn’t provoke a sort of envy from within her.

She just couldn’t help but wonder if she and Joe would ever be able to be like that.

“You hear from Charlotte since your match?” Colby asked Becky.

“No, I didn’t get a chance to,” she said, putting her phone on the dashboard whilst she tied her hair up. “Saw the doctor come out of medical, but I don’t know what happened.”

“Damn,” he shook his head. “I’m sure she’s good—even though that suplex was clean as fuck.”

“Yeah, but she wasn’t supposed to do a whole flip and land on her nose!”

“Ain’t your fault, you got them muscles, baby.”

“You’re so annoying.”

Y/N was trying to focus on the conversation up front, but Gionna wasn’t making it easy. She just kept nudging her, whispering little jabs that only she could hear. Whilst Y/N knew Gi wasn’t trying to piss her off, it had been a long fucking night, and all Y/N wanted to do was curl up in bed and enjoy the rest of the night before they had to head out again in the morning.

Joe: ???

“You gonna see him again?” Gi asked quietly.

Gritting her teeth, Y/N angled herself away from her, trying her best to keep her phone concealed. “Not now, Gi, please…”

“C’mon, you gotta give me something at this point…” she trailed off, widening her eyes and pursing out her lower lip. “You kinda owe me after subjecting me to such horrors.”

Y/N snorted a little, glancing at her friend, but kept scrolling through her phone.

“I mean, I’ve kept your secret this long, haven’t I?”

This earned her a glare from Y/N. “That’s because you don’t have a choice.”

Y/N: Liv’s being a pain in the ass…

“You know it’s only a matter of time before someone else figures this shit out.”

Before Y/N could respond, Colby’s voice cut through into the back. “What are you two whispering about back there?”

“Nothing you need to worry about,” Y/N said quickly, sending him a friendly smile as she caught his eye in the rearview mirror.

“Uh-huh,” Colby replied, not really buying it. “You sure about that?”

“Positive.”

Becky turned slightly in her seat, giving Y/N a curious look. She even narrowed her eyes a bit, as though it was going to make her crack. 

“What?”

The redhead just smirked a little, before returning to her normal position. 

Joe: She knows, doesn’t she?

Y/N looked down at the text message, a small rush of guilt washing over her. How was she supposed to tell him that not only did Gionna know about them, but she overheard Y/N being fingerbanged to death a metre and a half away from her? 

Y/N: …

Y/N: Don’t make me answer that😩

Joe: I ain’t mad baby

Joe: just wish you’d tell me

Joe: I don’t care that she knows

Y/N: You might not, but you’re not the one having to sit there and listen to her go on about it are youuuu ugh

Joe: 🤭

Y/N: It’s not funny!

Y/N: It’s pissing me off

Joe: Sorry sorry… i know it upsets you

Joe: Just got to the hotel. 217 if you wanna come see me

Y/N: Do you want me to?

Joe: I always want u to come see me baby girl

Joe: Can’t get enough of your fine ass

Y/N was in the process of swiping her keycard to the room she was sharing with Gi when she saw that last message. Even in message form, he never failed to get her all worked up. It was like she could hear him speaking the exact words to her.

Y/N: Lemme settle in first

Y/N: …and I’ll think about it ;)

Joe: Tease

She knew damn well she’d be paying that man a visit tonight.

Letting out a deep breath, she kicked off her shoes and dropped her gear bag by the door. The exhaustion from her match was starting to set in, and all she wanted really was a hot shower and some peace and quiet.

Gi was already sprawled out on her bed, flipping through the channels on the TV.

“Anything interesting on?” Y/N asked passively, covering her mouth as she yawned.

“Uh,” Gi hummed, chewing the inside of her cheek. “Ooh!”

Taking a glance at the TV, Y/N instantly recognised the familiar head of wet, dark hair, along with that familiar black vest. Of course, he had to be on the fucking television. Of course it’s that moment Gi happens to switch over to. Of fucking course.

“Oh, look, it’s your boyfriend.”

Y/N groaned internally. “Who?” she feigned innocence.

With a drawn out sigh, Gi pulled herself back up into a seated position and turned the TV down. “Come on, Y/N. Stop ignoring it and fess up. It’s not like people haven’t noticed you two practically eye-fucking each other, it’s just that I’m the only one who’ll say anything about it!”

“Pretty sure Trin would,” Y/N smirked, knowing full well that if people really were noticing such interactions, it would have gotten back to Trinity, and then to Jon. And then Josh. We all know what the fallout of that would be.

“Uh-huh…” Gi grinned, eyeing her friend up. “It’s seriously like you’re in your own little world whenever he’s within range.”

Y/N simply ignored the comment, heading to the bathroom and closing the door behind her. She leaned against the sink, staring at her reflection for a minute. Of course, Joe had been on her mind all night. He was always on her mind, but being able to watch him in front of thousands of people in his element… it just pushed her closer to the edge of letting everyone know—letting him know—that she loved that man with her entire being.

For a few blissful moments, Y/N managed to push everything out of her mind whilst taking a hot shower, steam filling up the small bathroom as she let the water wash away the sweat and stress of the night. Gionna’s teasing, the pressure of keeping things under wraps with Joe, even the thrill of the match. It was just her and the calming rush, and that was exactly what she needed.

But as soon as she stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around herself, she could hear Gi’s voice through the door.

“So, are you gonna tell me what’s really going on, or am I gonna have to drag it out of you?” she called playfully, but with an undertone of persistence.

Y/N rolled her eyes as she dried off and pulled on her cotton shorts and an old, oversized shirt—the kind of comfortable clothes she always wore to bed. She took a deep breath before opening the bathroom door, steeling herself for whatever Gionna was about to say.

“Please can we not do this right now?” she asked as she stepped back into the room, running a hand through her damp hair. She tossed her dirty clothes into the corner on top of her suitcase and climbed onto her bed, sitting cross-legged.

Gionna wasn’t having it. “Come on, Y/N! It’s been driving me nuts. You and Roman—you guys together together, or just se—”

Y/N groaned, flopping onto her back and staring up at the ceiling. “It’s nothing, Gi. We’re just… I don’t know. Figuring things out, I guess.”

Gi’s eyes lit up with excitement, and she bounced on her bed, leaning forward. “Figuring things out? That sounds like progress! Oh my God, Y/N, this is so exciting! I knew you two had something going on, you gotta tell me everything—how it started, what he’s like when it’s just the two of you, all the details!”

Bitch, you heard most of that shit.

But she didn’t let on, even though her patience was fraying at the edges. “There’s not much to tell.”

“Don’t give me that,” Gi shot back, grinning. “I’m your friend, Y/N. I can see it all over your face. You like each other a lot.”

Y/N closed her eyes. Gionna meant well, but she didn’t understand how complicated things were. “It’s not that simple, alright?”

“Why not?” Gi pressed, her voice full of genuine curiosity. “You’re both adults, you’re both single—what’s stopping you?” Suddenly, her face dropped. “Wait, he is single, right?”

“Yes, he’s single!” Y/N insisted. “Well… recently divorced—but he’s single, Gionna, that’s all you need to know.”

“But–”

“Stop!” Y/N finally broke, shooting up from the bed and staring down at Gionna. “Just stop. I don’t wanna talk about it, Gi, I’ve had enough for tonight. I’m tired, I’m hungry, and I’m stressed.” 

Gionna’s mouth fell open, eyes wide. “I-I’m sor–”

“No.” She didn’t want to wait for a response, she simply grabbed her keycard. “I’m going to Joe’s room. If you say anything about it to anyone, I will cut you out of my life.” And she left.

Y/N did feel bad for snapping at Gionna the way she did, but could anyone blame her?

She hovered outside of Joe’s hotel room for a moment, fingers hesitating as they curled into a fist to knock. What if he was just saying he wanted to see her out of the kindness of his heart? What if what they had really wasn’t that deep, it was just a pastime for him? What if—

This went on. Looping in her head. All the horrible what ifs that could be, instead of this is and we are. 

Through the door, she could hear the faint sound of commentary. Of course, he was watching his match back. Joe always did this. Rewatching every single bout, scrutinising each moment with the kind of intensity he usually reserved for the ring. She knew it was part of who he was, that drive to be better, to be perfect—but sometimes it felt like he was too hard on himself.

Taking a deep breath, she knocked softly before letting herself in. The door creaked open, revealing Joe sitting on the bed, his laptop sitting in front of him as one of his legs bent under him, the other with a foot planted firmly off the side. His thick, muscular frame dominated the space, even as he hunched forward, his focus locked on the screen. The muted light from the laptop bore shadows on his face, highlighting the sharp, bearded line of his jaw, his dark hair still damp from his own shower, draped effortlessly in front of his shoulders. 

He didn’t look up right away, too absorbed in the footage of his match against Baron Corbin from earlier in the night. She stepped inside, closing the door behind her quietly. For a second, she just stood there, watching him. Despite the rough night she’d had, the frustration from Gionna, there was something about seeing Joe like this—calm, focused—that made everything else seem distant, almost insignificant.

Finally, Joe’s gaze lifted, his dark eyes meeting hers, and the corner of his mouth quirked up in a subtle smile. “Hey,” he greeted her with a gentle gravel.

“Hi,” she replied, trying to smile back but failing to hide the pout that tugged at her lips. She made her way over to the bed, sitting down next to him with a soft sigh. Her cotton shorts rode up slightly as she tucked her legs beneath her, her t-shirt slipping a little off her shoulder. She was far from dressed up, but Joe didn’t mind. He rarely cared about stuff like that.

Joe glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, noticing the way her shoulders slumped and how she seemed to curl into herself, clearly upset. Without a word, he shifted, wrapping one arm around her shoulders, pulling her to his side. “What’s goin’ on?” His voice was warm, concerned, but still casual. He knew not to push too hard when she was in this kind of mood. He just had to coax it out of her gently.

Y/N sighed, leaning her head against his shoulder. “Gi,” she muttered. “Still won’t stop talking about us. I know she’s just excited, but I’m over it.”

Joe’s brow furrowed slightly, his eyes softening as he peered down at her. “She’s got no filter, huh?” He said it with a small smile, but there was an underlying severity to his tone.

“She means well,” she admitted, sighing as she leaned further into him. “It’s just hard, y’know? Keeping this thing with us under wraps. It feels… like I’m hiding something important. Like I’m keeping a secret about the best part of my life.”

Joe’s brows lifted sympathetically, his permanent smile seemingly dropping into something more serious. He tilted his head to nudge her gently, encouraging her to look at him. “Hey. Don’t let her or anyone else get in your head, alright? What we’ve got—it’s ours. Ain’t nobody else’s business.”

The way he said it, so firm yet so gentle, tightened that part of her chest only unlocked by him. Dark eyes holding hers with an intensity that made her feel seen. Safe.

“You’re too good at this.”

“Good at what?” he chuckled.

“Reassuring me. Being… you.”

Joe smirked, tilting his head toward his laptop. “You sure you’re not just mesmerised by my match?” he jested. “C’mon, tell me I look good out there.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, though her smile widened. “You always look good. You don’t need me to tell you that.”

“Mm-hmm,” he teased, adjusting the laptop so she could see the screen better. “Watch this part, though—when I start takin’ it to Corbin.”

She watched as the footage unfolded. Joe crouched in the corner of the ring, his body coiled like a spring, eyes locked on Corbin with a sharp intensity. The camera zoomed in on his face, catching every detail: the subtle twitch of his nose, the way his tongue darted out to wet his lips before curling into a sneer. It was pure dominance, calculated and commanding, and yet entirely effortless.

“I like when you do that,” Y/N said, just above a whisper.

“Do what?”

“That… thing with your nose,” she nodded down at the screen. “It’s…” She paused, cheeks warming as she tried to find the right word. “It’s hot, y’know?”

Joe’s laugh was warm and rich. “Oh, yeah? Gonna start takin’ notes on what moves work best for you, huh?”

Y/N groaned, burying her face against his shoulder. “Don’t make it weird, Joe.”

“I’m not makin’ it weird!” he protested, though his grin betrayed him. “You’re the one gettin’ all flustered talkin’ ‘bout my nose.”

“I’m never saying anything nice to you again,” she grumbled against his shoulder.

“Lies,” he said easily, sliding the laptop further down the bed. His arm around her tightened, pulling her closer against him. “You like me too much for that.”

It was that casual confidence, that playful ease, that made her stomach flutter. She was happiest when she was with him, but right now, the stress of the night still lingered, heavy in her chest. Joe must have noticed, because his free hand suddenly darted to her side, fingers brushing lightly against her ribs.

“Whatcu doin’ lookin’ so serious?” he asked, his tone teasing.

“Joe, don’t—” she started, but it was too late. His fingers pressed into her side again, this time with more intent, and a surprised laugh burst from her lips. “Stop it!”

“Stop what?” he asked innocently, even as he tickled her again, a grin spreading across his lips. “I don’t even know what you’re talkin’ about.”

“Joe!” she yelped, twisting in his grip, her laughter spilling out uncontrollably. “I’m serious! Stop!”

“Say you forgive me for bein’ so good-lookin’, and maybe I’ll think about it,” he said, his own laughter mixing with hers.

She tried to wriggle away, but he was far too strong, his hands relentless as they sought out every ticklish spot he could find. Finally, with a burst of determination, she pushed against his chest, sending him sprawling back onto the bed. She followed, straddling his waist to pin him down, her damp hair tumbling over her shoulders and curtaining their faces.

Both laughter faded as they settled into the mattress, freezing in position as the moment shifted. Coming down from their giggle fits, Joe held his hands lightly on her hips, staring up at her with those dark, smouldering eyes.

And for a moment, neither of them uttered a word; the warmth of his body beneath hers, and the steady rhythm of their breathing spoke more than words could say. Apart from—

“I love you,” she whispered, the words slipping out before she could second-guess herself.

Joe’s eyes softened, his expression melting into something tender, something unguarded. His hands strengthened on her hips a little, grounding her in place. “Say it again,” he murmured, almost reverently.

“I… love you,” she repeated, this time with an air of uncertainty.

His lips quirked up into the smallest, most genuine smile she’d ever seen. “Good,” he said softly, sliding his palms up to her waist. “‘Cause I was already there.” He brushed a stray strand of hair from her face, thumb tenderly hovering over her cheek. “Now c’mere.”

Y/N didn’t move at first, her heart thundering in her chest as his words sank in. It was all suddenly so… intimate. Vulnerable. Slowly, she leaned down, her hands finding their place on his chest, fingers curling into the soft fabric of his shirt.

Their lips eventually met, tentative at first—a gentle brush, as though they’d never kissed before. Warm and soft, his lips moved against hers with an unhurried rhythm. Like he wanted to savour every second. She tilted her head, angling the kiss as she pressed closer, her body meshing with his. 

A soft hum tickled his lips as she felt the rough sensation of his beard brushing against her skin. He caught the sound, pulling back just enough to smile against her mouth. “Feelin’ good, baby?” he murmured. A firmer kiss came as a response, hands sliding up his broad chest to cup around his jaw. Fingertips brushing along the edge of his beard as she marveled at the coarse contrast between it and the smooth surface of his skin. 

His hands moved up her back, tracing over the curve of her spine as a groan rumbled against her lips. The steady rise and fall of his chest pushed and pulled against hers, the heat radiating from him like a furnace. One of his hands slipped into her hair, his fingers massaging over the roots as he tilted her head to deepen the kiss.

It wasn’t sweet anymore—not entirely. There was an edge of urgency now, a hunger that made her toes curl and her breath hitch. Joe’s lips parted against hers, his tongue brushing softly against her bottom lip in a silent question. Without hesitation, she answered, opening up to him and letting him in.

The kiss grew deeper, hotter, with less measured movements and more instinctive reactions. 

Joe’s hand found her chin, thumb brushing lightly over her jaw as he tilted her head back. His tongue dipped teasingly into her mouth, the motion unhurried but precise, the gentle swirl making her head spin. Like he had something to prove, drawing soft sighs from her. When he pulled back just slightly, his lips barely a breath away from hers, his eyes were dark, his voice a husky whisper. 

“You know,” he hummed, the pad of his thumb gently caressing her cheek now, “The way you moved your body in the ring tonight—damn, baby. It’s somethin’ else.”

Her cheeks flushed at his words, the heat almost too much to bear, but before she could even think about responding, he kissed her again. The way he moved his tongue… fuck, it spoke in whispers of how he’d use it elsewhere. How it would ripple and flutter between her thighs. 

And the smirk Joe stretched against her lips told her he knew exactly what he was doing. Cradling her jaw, he shifted under her, pulling her further down so she was almost completely laid out on top of him.

“I mean it,” he continued, kissing the corner of her mouth, trailing a path to her ear. “You’re somethin’ special in there. The way you had Trin locked up in that sequence? Beautiful. Smooth, confident… unstoppable.”

A combination of praise and delicate lips brushing over her skin, it had her heart pounding against her ribcage. “Joe,” she whispered, trembling ever so slightly as she gripped onto his shoulders.

“I watched every move you made,” he went on, grazing the sweet spot below her ear. His hand slipped to the back of her neck, holding her firmly in place. “That dropkick—clean as hell. And when you caught her with that suplex? Baby, you had me grinnin’ like an idiot. You’re so damn good, you don’t even see it.”

She couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh, her nerves melting away under the warmth of his voice. “You’re just saying that beca–”

“No, I’m sayin’ it because it’s the truth,” he interrupted, pulling back just enough to meet her eyes. “I see you, Y/N. Every little thing you do in there. The way you control the match, the way you keep the crowd on edge, the way you… command that respect. It’s sexy as hell, baby.” He punctuated his compliment with a small squeeze on her hip.

But this was the thing with Joe. He didn’t just compliment her; he broke her down piece by piece, making her feel seen in a way that no one else ever had.

“Sometimes,” he carried on, lips curving into a teasing smile, “I catch myself watchin’ you more than I’m watchin’ the actual match. You got that fire. Makes it fuckin’ impossible to look away.”

His lips were back on hers before she knew it, and she felt herself melting under his touch. She kissed him back with everything she had; he made her feel powerful and vulnerable, all at once, and she couldn’t get enough.

“I think about you sometimes,” he admitted clumsily as they continued to kiss, their noses bumping against each other. “What it would be like to face you myself…” He nipped at her bottom lip. “The way you’d push me, make me work for it. I’d let you get me in one of those holds, just to see what you’d do with it.”

She giggled airily, sighing contently as his perfectly bulky arms wrapped completely around her, almost as though demonstrating his own hold in his own fantasy.

“And then,” he brushed his lips against hers as he spoke. “I think about what happens after. How I’d bring you back here, just like this, and remind you…” He suddenly used his whole body strength to flip them over, almost like an impromptu, semi-scoop slam but onto a plush mattress rather than a rough canvas mat. “...Who’s really in charge.”

She steadied herself by holding onto his shoulders as he chuckled softly at the small yelp that sounded from her throat. His hips careened forward as if on instinct, causing her thighs to tighten around him to keep him there.

“You feel that?” he whispered, his hand sliding down to pull one of her legs up and over his waist just so she could feel the blatant bulge below. “It’s what your fine ass does to me,” he momentarily got up on his knees just to swiftly pull his tank up and over his body, throwing it behind him, “Every damn time.”

Y/N couldn’t find the words to respond, not when his lips were on hers again, kissing her like she was the only thing that mattered in the world. Joe Anoa’i wasn’t just good with his words; he was good with everything, and he knew it.

Joe’s lips began their descent from her mouth, lingering at the corner of her lips before tracing the line of her jaw. His beard scratched against her skin, the sensation both grounding and electric. His hands framed her face for a moment, his thumbs brushing her cheeks as if to memorise her expression and keep it locked away for moments he couldn’t have her.

“Don’t even realise how perfect you are, mama,” he murmured against her skin, finding the spot beneath her ear. Pressing a kiss that had her body trembling in response. Teasing down the curve of her neck, the tip of his tongue tasted her cocoa butter-layered skin, slowly and deliberately, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. When his mouth reached the junction of her collarbone, he paused.

“We don’t need to worry ‘bout nobody else, baby girl,” he whispered, inhaling her fresh scent, “I got you, you got me, we’re set.” He lifted his head, blinking down at her. “You understand me?”

Nibbling at her lips, she nodded, no longer suppressing the grin on her face. He made her so happy. She was like a school girl finally getting a chance with her crush; the butterflies never faded. They just came with him.

Joe shifted, accepting her wordless response as he found the edge of her shirt, tugging it up carefully. He paused, catching her gaze as he pushed the fabric away, his expression shifting tenderly, yet reverent all the same.

“Never get tired of seein’ this,” he teased, roaming his chocolate eyes over her newly exposed skin. Hands followed, calloused fingers tracing over her ribs in a feather-light touch. “Every inch of you is just… damn.”

Cupping the swells of her breasts, his thumbs brushed lightly over her hardening peaks, the barely-there touch pulling her back into an arch like a magnet.

“These,” he murmured, his voice rougher now, edged with hunger. “Perfect. Soft as hell, but strong. Just like you.” His mouth replaced one hand, his thick lips wrapping around her nipple as his tongue swirled in lazy circles. She gasped at the heat radiating from his mouth, and the way he teased and sucked at her with such fervour. His free hand moved to her other breast, pawing needily as he rolled her neglected nipple between his fingers, pinching gently before soothing the area with his mouth as he switched between the perfect mounds. The dual sensations were long awaited and long overdue, and she clutched at his shoulders as if to anchor herself.

Joe pulled back, his lips glistening as he looked up at her, a smirk playing on his face. “Love the way you react to me, baby…”

He continued his journey south, his lips pressing heated kisses down her torso as she liberally ran her fingers over and through his hair, each kiss accompanied by a whispered compliment.

“Your skin,” kiss, “soft as silk.” Another kiss. “This waist,” his hands gripped her sides, “drives me insane.” He paused just above the waistband of her shorts, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there.

“Every part of you, baby. Perfect doesn’t even cover it.”

His hands travelled lazily over her bare thighs, his thumbs making slow circles; his eyes, dark and heavy-lidded, never left hers as he tugged at the waistband of her shorts, fingers hooked under the fabric.

“Been here before, huh?” he murmured with a small laugh. “But it never gets old, does it?”

She shook her head, tilting her head to the side as she watched him ease her shorts and panties down in one smooth motion, tossing them aside like they offended him. Even as he partook in something as simple, as trivial, as removing her clothes, she was sure she had never been so in love with anybody in her life.

“Damn, baby,” he almost groaned thickly, fingers ghosting back up her legs. “You already so wet for me.”

“Well, yeah, what did you expect?” she giggled softly, biting down on her lips as he spread her thighs wider, his thumb brushing lightly over her sensitive spot, eliciting a quiet gasp.

“That good, baby?” he coaxed lowly.

Her eyes were half-lidded as she nodded.

“I need words, sweetheart,” he drawled, leaning down to kiss the inside of her thigh. “Gotta tell me what you want.”

“You,” she sighed, reaching down to move some of his hair out of the way. “I want you, Joe.”

“Yeah?” He pressed a slow, open-mouthed kiss just below her navel, his beard brushing against her skin. “You want my mouth, my fingers, my–”

“Yes,” she interrupted, fingers now threading through his hair, tugging lightly.

His chuckle was deep and rough. “That’s my girl.”

Without further teasing, he lowered his head and settled it directly between her legs; his tongue flicked out in a steady, purposeful stroke. Her back arched off the bed almost immediately as he worked her, his hands gripping her thighs firmly to keep her in place.

“God, you taste good,” he murmured, his lips gliding against her with expert ease. He flattened his tongue, dragging it up before swirling it around her clit, the way he knew would drive her wild.

Her fingers tightened in his hair, and a soft moan escaped her lips. “Joe… fuck, yes...”

“Mm-hmm,” he hummed against her, the vibration causing her thighs to tremble under his hold. “Does it feel good, baby?”

“Yeah,” she nodded quickly, her chest rising up and down as goosebumps glittered her exposed skin. He gave her clit a quick, firm suck before flitting his tongue in a figure-eight pattern. “Feels so good, baby.”

Pleased with her answer, he continued, taking a deep breath through his nose as his tongue alternated between quick flicks and slow, languid circles. He even took it upon himself to move his head along with his tongue, tilting and angling himself to make sure she felt every bit of his passion. Whatever he could do to make this woman shake and quiver, he’d do it. Every motion was calculated, designed to bring her closer and closer to the edge.

“So damn responsive,” he said as he moved his head away only for a second, so he could lasciviously spit onto her pussy, just to watch as the combination of both their fluids ran down her swollen heat. “I could stay down here all fuckin’ night.”

“Please,” she whispered desperately.

“Please what, baby?” He kissed her clit, one of his hands releasing her leg so he could run his long, tepid fingers along her folds. “You want more?”

“Yes, Joe, please,” she begged, her hips bucking against his hand.

He fucking laughed, licking his lips. “Hold your leg up so Daddy can get all in that pussy…”

Shit.

She obliged immediately, holding onto the thigh he’d let go of, as he slid two of his fingers inside her, right down to the final knuckle so he could curl them up just at the right angle. Prodding at that rough spot deep inside. His mouth returned, swirling in tandem with the stroking of his fingers. The synchronisation had her crying out, her body tensing as he started to gently grind her hips upward toward his face.

“That’s it,” he growled, his voice barely audible. “Ride my fuckin’ face, mama…” He practically buried his face, feral flicks of his tongue and fast-paced pumps of his fingers hurling her toward a release.

“Oh shit,” she gasped, pulling at his hair and digging her nails into her own thigh. “Fuck, right there, right there… D-don’t stop,” she panted.

He didn’t answer, just maintained the earth-shattering pace in which he set, despite the muscles straining in his bicep, the unsteady breaths leaving his nose, and the stinging in the roots of his hair as she continued to pull at it.

“Fuck, I’m cumming…” she whined, as her body shuddered, wave after wave of pure ecstasy coursing through her. Still, Joe didn’t let up, and he intended to draw out every last tremor. “Joe… holy shit, yes… feels so fucking good,” she groaned, her back arching painfully and her eyes practically rolling to the back of her head. 

When she finally collapsed back onto the bed, breathless and spent, he pulled back, his face glistening with her arousal. He grinned, looking like he’d just won the most priceless championship around.

“Damn,” he sighed, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “You’re a masterpiece.”

“And you’re… ridiculous,” she laughed softly, still catching her breath.

“Ridiculously good, you mean,” he teased, crawling back up to hover over her. His lips found hers in a heated, unhurried kiss, letting her taste herself on him. She traced the line of his jaw with her fingers, smiling subtly into the kiss as she took in the characteristic coarseness of his beard. 

Their noses bumped together as their tongues met, and her free hand wandered over his tattooed shoulder, before making its way down his defined back. Muscles moved and tensed under her touch as she reached his lower back, tucking her fingers into the waistband of his own shorts. She tugged at them, letting them snap back against his skin and making him groan softly into her mouth.

“You tryna tell me somethin’?” he murmured, pulling back just enough to meet her eyes, his lips curving into that signature smirk. “Or you just can’t keep your hands off me?”

“Maybe both,” she rallied, pushing gently on his shoulder to usher him to roll off of her. Instead of laying on his back, he leaned back against the headboard, his legs spread wide to accommodate the fully grown tent in his shorts.

She propped herself up on her hand, looking up at him, her lips brushing up his jaw and toward his ear. “You had your turn,” she whispered against him, letting her hand wander down his chest, tracing the hard ridges of muscle. “And now it’s my turn.”

Joe chuckled deeply, wrapping an arm around her midsection as she kissed along his cheek and toward his lips. All the while, her fingers were slipping down and under the elastic in the fabric of his shorts. His head tilted back against the headboard, peering down at her hand as she watched his reactions. His plump lower lip was sucked between his teeth, and it bounced back out deliciously when she had her hand wrapped around him, already warm, hard, and heavy in her grasp.

“Don’t waste no time, huh?” he muttered, turning his head to press a small kiss to her lips.

“Not when you look this fucking good,” she shot back, giving him a slow squeeze that made his hips lift off the bed slightly.

Joe laughed softly, but it quickly turned into a light hiss as she lowered her head and sank her teeth into where his broad shoulder met his thick neck. His other hand, previously resting on the bed next to him, came up to hold onto her arm, trailing his fingers down to where her hand was buried under his shorts.

“Lemme take these off, baby girl,” he hummed, giving her ass a tap with his other hand. She let him go, resting her palm on his toned stomach, spreading kisses of worship over his tribal tattoos as he pushed down and kicked off the intruding item of clothing from his legs. “There we go,” he drawled, cupping the side of her face and urging her to look at him. “Now I’m all yours, mama.”

“You’re always all mine, baby,” she smirked, slowly pecking his lips. But he didn’t let her go, easing her back into a deep and heated kiss.

“Can’t help myself,” he mumbled against her lips, “You’re just so fuckin’ sexy.”

Giggling, she forced them apart, as much as she would have loved to keep kissing him. “I promise you can kiss me all you want after I suck that dick, Daddy…”

Groaning, he sat back, one hand propped behind his head as he got comfortable. “Goddamn tease,” he muttered endearingly. “You gonna do more than tease, or you just gonna sit there lookin’ pretty?” he asked, his voice low and rough, taunting her just enough to make her smirk.

She rolled her eyes, but proceeded to move onto her knees, bending over him so she could kiss her way along his body. “You’re so annoying,” she whispered, pausing to trace the tip of her tongue across the defined lines all over him, years of hard work paying off in his build.

“Fuck,” Joe breathed, his hips shifting. “You already got me hard as hell, baby. You keep playin’, and I might forget how to be nice.”

“Maybe I don’t want you to be nice,” she teased, moving her hair from her face as she came face to face with his free cock laying against his abdomen, thick, long, and already glistening at the tip. She licked her lips at the sight, the corner of her mouth curling up into a sly grin. “You’re so full of yourself.”

“And your ass loves it,” he shot back, his hand brushing over her hair as she opted to stay beside him rather than moving around to lay between his legs. “C’mon, baby. Show Daddy somethin’ special.”

“Am I not special enough, Daddy?” she feigned naivety, flipping her hair off of her shoulder so he had the perfect view of her delicately taking a hold of his rigid length. Looking him in the eye as her tongue slithered out for a quick taste. The muscles in his thigh tensed notably.

He reached out, smoothing the thin wisps of baby hairs on her forehead with his thumb. “So special, baby girl.”

Once again, those school-girl butterflies fluttered deep in her gut.

She started slowly, her tongue tracing the vein along the underside of his cock, her lips trailing gentle kisses down to the base. Her hand remained wrapped around him, following her mouth as she worked her way back up, flicking against the sensitive ridge just below the head.

Joe let out a low groan, his hand moving to rest on the back of her head. He didn’t push—he never pushed, unless she wanted that—but the weight of his large hand encouraged her, his fingers tangling in her hair as she began to take him deeper into her mouth.

“That’s it, baby,” he muttered thickly. “You know exactly what you’re doin’, huh?”

She pulled back just enough to look up at him, her lips shiny. “I’ve had practice,” she said playfully, albeit sultrily.

“Yeah, with me,” he replied, his smirk returning. “Ain’t nobody else got you doin’ it like this.”

Instead of answering, she shifted her position, getting up on all fours beside him so she had more control over her movements. The new angle let her lean in closer, her chest pressing against his body as she wrapped her lips around him again.

Hissing through his teeth, his free hand snaked up her thigh, before grabbing a handful of her ass. “Shit, baby,” he grunted, his head falling back. “Makin’ me lose my damn mind.”

Her movements became more deliberate once she felt his hand wandering all over her, her hand twisting as her tongue swirled around him. She used the flat of her tongue to press against the underside, her lips sliding down until she felt him at the back of her throat. Ignoring the pulsing and contracting as she swallowed him up.

“Damn,” he chuckled airily, his hand tightening in her hair. “You’re so fuckin’ good at this. Always takin’ care of me, makin’ me feel like a king.”

His praise sent a rush of heat through her, and she doubled down, letting her saliva roll down her chin and drip all over him, working him and making every movement slick and lewd. She knew he liked it when he could hear what she was doing, just as much as see it.

“You’re gonna kill me,” he muttered hoarsely. “The way you’re usin’ that mouth… fuck.”

She glanced up at him, her eyes sparkling with mischief once she noticed him eyeing her ass. “Good,” she said breathlessly. “I like seeing you like this.”

She arched her back tantalisingly, smiling to herself when he couldn’t resist slipping his hand back between her legs, a new sheen of nectar coating her centre.

“Fuck…” he sighed. “Get over here, baby, Daddy needs his pussy again.”

Without missing a beat, and without giving her a chance to comply herself, he used all his strength to shimmy down the bed and drag her over so she had no choice but to straddle his face. She barely registered him shoving his face back into her pussy, slurping and lapping at her again until a specific twitch in her clit woke her up, and she resumed her own movements on his cock.

She steadied herself by holding onto one of his thighs, her head bobbing up and down on his length hungrily, little moans and whimpers vibrating from within her throat as he matched her ferocity and confidence.

Wrapping his arms around her legs, he pawed at her ass, shutting his eyes as he enjoyed every second, every drop. Landing a few slaps, even losing an iota of control when his hips rocked up toward her mouth.

He growled, the sound deep and primal. “Yeah, baby,” he encouraged, sucking at her folds and kissing her clit. “Just like that…”

She didn’t. She let herself get lost in it, in his taste, his warmth, the essence that dripped in pearls from his tip. But she had to stop when she felt him twitch against her tongue, lifting her head and giving him one last squeeze. “Not yet,” she said.

“Maybe not for me,” he dismissed, yanking her further up. “Turn around.”

Already dishevelled, she did as she was told, now straddling his face in a way that allowed them both to see each other.

“Wanna make me cum again, Daddy?”

“You know it, baby girl.”

She eagerly rode his face, thanks to the encouragement from his hands on her hips, rocking and writhing her way to another orgasm he so desperately wanted to give her. And he looked so beautiful doing it; alternating between intense glares up her body and delicately shutting his eyes as he feasted. Both ways, she saw his cheeks moving and the growing layer of her essence glittering his facial hair.

Grabbing onto the headboard, arching her back, panting and crying out. Something about a second time was just so intense, so invigorating. And when it did finally come, she swore she saw stars.

He’d literally flipped her onto her back, without parting from her pussy. As if he were countering a pin attempt in the ring. Him, sat up with his arms fully enclosed around her centre as the only thing keeping her propped up on the bed was her upper back and her head.

Her entire body went limp in his hold as the aftershocks of her second orgasm shuddered through her. She even had to tap his arm to let him know he could stop.

Their chests heaved as he gently let her go, giving her room to shimmy back, but not too far that he couldn’t grab at her again. He shifted his position, sliding his legs over the edge of the bed and pulling her up with him. He planted her on his lap, her knees on either side of his hips, the heat between their bodies nearly unbearable. Hands resting firmly on her thighs, his thumbs curling her plush flesh.

“You good, baby?” he murmured with a gravelly lilt, dripping with affection and lust all at once.

She nodded, her hands bracing on his shoulders. “More than good.”

He grinned, the slight crinkles at the corners of his eyes deepening as he slid one hand around to cup the back of her neck. “That’s what I like to hear.”

He leaned in, grazing her lips in a gentle kiss before dropping to her throat, nipping at the sensitive skin there. Meanwhile, his other hand drifted down, his fingers finding her entrance, prodding softly and feeling the slick left behind.

“You’re so ready for me… fuckin’ drippin’ for me.”

Her whole body experienced a white-hot flush under his gaze, but she couldn’t bring herself to look away. He was so magnetic. Pulling her in. Making her feel like she was the only thing that mattered in the world.

She wasn’t quite prepared for how intense the stretch of his dick would be when he finally guided her down slowly onto him. It was overwhelming, and she let out a soft gasp, digging her fingers into his shoulders.

“Atta girl,” Joe coaxed, soothing her with his rumble. “Take your time, mama, I gotchu…”

Inch by inch, she sank into him, adjusting by the second to the fullness. His hands stroked over her thighs, and up to her hips, brushing comforting circles into her muscles.

“I-I always end up forgetting,” she breathed out, resting her forehead against his, “Just how… b-big you are.”

He hummed, kissing her nose and then her cheek. More than patient as she eased herself into a completely seated position, his length fully encased in her heat. They both paused, the stillness amplifying the intensity of the moment.

“Look at you,” he smiled, “Takin’ me so good.”

Her breath hitched, and she leaned in, capturing his lips in a steady kiss. As their mouths moved together, she began to roll her hips, gauging which angle had him stroking her just the right way. When they both groaned into the kiss, they knew they’d found the right rhythm.

“Yeah, just like that,” he sighed huskily, squeezing her hips and guiding her movements.

“Joe…” she moaned as he dropped his head to her shoulder, tilting his head to bury it in her neck. Sinewy arms clasped around her body, holding her flush against him as hot, wet kisses were planted on her flushed skin. Fingernails dug into her, gently, as she rocked and grinded against him.

“Fuck, I love you,” he grunted against her neck, his hold on her getting progressively tighter and tighter. Sliding his hands back down and under her thighs, he stood up from the bed with her in his arms, turning and planting her on her back, sliding out of her in the process.

Like a lovesick puppy, she reached out for him and whimpered at the loss of contact, but he was quick to shush her and guide her further onto the bed, crawling over her in the process.

“Leati Joseph Anoa’i, if you don’t—”

“Shh, I know,” he interrupted with a grin, leaning down over her to nip at her jaw. “So needy.” He shook his head with an amused smirk. “Got the full name treatment too, damn,” he muttered, shifting back onto his knees and pulling her hips up with him. She instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist, but he shook his head again, the smirk remaining. 

“Nah,” he said, moving to hold onto the back of her knees. “I want these,” he started to guide her legs up, “Up here,” and he settled her calves on his shoulders.

Her breath stuttered as she complied, relaxing her legs over his broad frame. The position left her completely open to him, her body arched in a way that sent a deep, delicious ache through her core.

He leaned forward, folding her nearly in half, his body pressing hers into the mattress as his mouth found her neck. “You always look so perfect like this,” he murmured. “You just made for me, baby girl…”

Lowering his hand between them, he wrapped his hand around his girth, teasing the blunt head along her slick. She whimpered, careening her hips up the best she could in the position she was in, but to no avail.

“Joe,” she whispered desperately.

“What’s wrong, mama?” he cooed, tilting his head to the side. “You need somethin’?”

“You…” she whined, reaching up to grip his forearms. “I need you to fuck me… Please, baby, I need it so bad.”

“Yeah? That pussy need fillin’ up, huh?” he taunted, dragging the head of his cock downward towards her entrance, just barely pushing it in and feeling her tighten already. “Greedy ass pussy…”

With a low grunt, he finally pressed into her, filling her up inch by inch until he was settled deep inside with nowhere left to go. 

“You’re so fuckin’ tight, goddamn,” he sighed, bringing his hand up to rest it beside her head, propping himself up over her. His other hand stroked over her hair, cupping her face. “Feels like heaven every time.”

Lips parted, her nails lightly scratched up his arms as she took a deep breath, savouring the feeling of them intertwined. “S-So… full, Joe.”

“I know,” he mumbled, gyrating his hips to test the waters. Once he felt the familiar flutter and pulsing around his cock, he smiled crookedly, having to fight his eyes’ urge to fall shut.

“Don’t stop,” she begged, encouraging him to keep moving.

“Don’t worry, I ain’t goin’ anywhere, baby girl,” he promised, his voice rough with restraint. He pulled back almost completely before sliding back in, his pace slow but deep, each thrust hitting a spot deep inside that made her cry out.

Shifting his angle slightly, he adjusted his knees for leverage before leaning into her. “How’s that, huh?” he gruffly asked, rotating his hips. She inhaled sharply, his hot tip stroking her deepest spot and sending electric shockwaves of ecstasy from her core. “That where you want me?”

“Yes,” she moaned, her fingers tangling in his hair as she tugged him down for a kiss, despite the small stretch along the back of her legs as her knees got closer and closer to her shoulders.

Joe didn’t just kiss her—he devoured her, his tongue plunging into her mouth in time with his thrusts. Both hands now gripped her thighs, pulling her tighter against him, his movements growing more purposeful by the second. Skin on skin, lewd noises fuelling their desire.

“You take me so good,” he mumbled against her lips in admiration. “Every time, you take all of me.”

She could barely form a response, completely drunk on dick. The way her body responded to him felt almost primal. Hips rising as if he could get any deeper. Nails leaving red streaks across his shoulder. 

“Look at you,” Joe moaned, his tone dripping with pride. He pulled back a bit, his hands trailing down her legs before he unhooked them from his shoulders. “Come here.”

Before she could process his words, he flipped them again, pulling her back on top of him. She straddled his lap, her thighs spread wider over his hips as he looked up at her, his hands guiding her to sink down onto him again.

He groaned, his head falling back against the pillows. “You look fuckin’ perfect up there…”

Bracing her hands on his chest, her fingers curled against the hard planes of muscle as she started to rock her hips. The new position let her control the rhythm, her hips rolling in a way that had him gripping her thighs, his fingers digging into the plush flesh.

“So beautiful…” His hands slid up her sides, pawing at her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her stiffened peaks. “Drivin’ me fuckin’ crazy.”

She leaned forward, her hair falling around them as she kissed him, their bodies grinding and rippling together in tandem. 

His hands felt large and intimidating on her ass, pulling and pushing her, guiding her motions as he thrust up to meet her. But it seemed the more she rode him, the quicker her pace got, the more she whimpered and moaned into his mouth and against his lips, the control she had just moments ago slipped further and further away.

At this point, her movements were fruitless as he was set on throwing his hips into her from below. Each collision knocked the wind out of her, her moans strangled and reverberating in her chest.

“You like that, huh?” he growled. “Like when I fuck you like this?”

Her hands were still splayed over his chest for balance, even though she wasn’t sure how much longer that strength would last. “J-Joe—oh my god—”

“Nah, nah,” he interrupted, hands grabbing at her waist hard enough to make her gasp. “Don’t you lose it yet. Look at me.” His voice took on more of a commanding tone, with a rougher edge. A kind of energy that only came out during times like these… and in the ring.

She forced her head forward, meeting his smouldering gaze. His dark eyes locked on hers, and she saw the way his lips curved into a wicked grin, his ego swelling at the way she was falling apart above him.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he praised, seductive and taunting. “Ride your Daddy… Show me what you got.”

Her hips stuttered at his words, nails raking down his chest in response. “J…” she tried to moan his name out of pure instinct, but a harsh slap to her ass shocked it out of her. Crazy of her to lose track of who he was when buried deep inside of her; how she must refer to him.

“Naw, baby, you been so good until now,” he mocked, raising an eyebrow. “You been talkin’ right, don’t stop that shit now.”

“I-I know,” she stuttered, nodding quickly as the sting from the slap melted into her skin, becoming a searing heat that encouraged her further. “I’m sorry, Daddy.”

“It’s okay, baby girl, just don’t upset Daddy like that again, ‘kay?” he smoothed a dangerous hand over the side of her head, fingers itching to grab at her harshly. 

“Yes, Daddy…”

What followed was a jarring thrust upward, so jarring in fact that it had eyes rolling back and her nails digging completely into his chest.

“That’s the spot,” he groaned, “Take it baby, don’t you dare close them pretty eyes, look at me.” With his order, he grabbed her face, angling it down so she had no choice but to look him in the eye as he drove up into her, meeting her hips with an unmatched vigour. “All mine…” he grumbled under his breath with clenched teeth. Digging his heels into the bed for further leverage. “Fuckin’ made for this dick…”

She whimpered, her body quaking under his control. “I am,” she breathed, her words spilling out between gasps. “Made for you.”

“Damn right, you are.”

Suddenly, he shifted, rolling them over again in one fluid motion. Back hitting the mattress, her legs spread wide as Joe hovered above her, his large frame looming, completely dominating.

“You wanna get fucked like a good girl, huh?” he growled with unbridled lust. “I’m gon’ give you everythin’, baby, you just gotta take it.”

“Yes,” she cried, high-pitched, desperate.

Without warning, he grabbed the backs of her thighs, pulling her hips up to meet him as he bucked into her, harder, deeper, each movement rougher than the last. Her yelps, cries, and moans filled the space of the hotel room, the sound of their bodies colliding echoing in the air.

“Fuckin’ tight as fuck,” he groaned, his head dropping to her neck as he nipped and kissed. “Grippin’ me like you don’t wanna let go.”

“Don’t stop,” she begged, her hands clawing at his back. “Don’t stop, Daddy.”

“You think I’m stoppin’?” he shot back, lifting her legs higher and pressing them completely into her shoulders. “Nah, this shit too good.”

The angle was deeper now, hitting areas she didn’t even know existed, or that could be hit. Crescent moon shapes were left along his skin, peppering his shoulders, arms, and all the way down his back—complimenting the long red lines of untamed energy she unleashed on him throughout the night.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he rasped, his pace relentless now. “Wanna hear that scream… Let the whole damn world know who owns you.”

She panted erratically, letting out moans and whines, whimpers and cries, punctuated by screams only heard when this man had his way. “Only you, Daddy, fuck yesss… right fucking there, baby.”

“That’s my girl,” he murmured, a hand sliding down to grab her ass, pulling her against him with each powerful thrust. “So fuckin’ perfect. This pussy—” He punctuated the word with a deep stroke that made her yelp loudly. “Mine. Say it.”

“Yours,” she nodded, her voice breaking. “This pussy’s all yours, Daddy.”

Joe’s lips found hers, swallowing her cries as his hand slid between their bodies. His calloused thumb found her hot, swollen clit, circling it in tight motions that had her spasming around his rock hard cock.

“I can feel you, baby, that tight lil pussy tryin’ to squeeze me…” he mumbled against her lips. “You’re gonna cum, huh? Gon’ give Daddy that nut?”

“Shit, yes,” she sighed, her thighs trembling and tears forming in her eyes. “I’m gonna cum, baby, you’re gonna make me cum again,” she continued to ramble, her hand firmly on the back of his head to keep him there. 

“Then let Daddy feel it, sweetheart, cum all over Daddy’s dick…”

She shuddered, every muscle in her body tensing as her ears started ringing. The knot in her abdomen was on the precipice of snapping.

“Oh God, it’s gonna be messy, Daddy,” she said through a deep, guttural groan, his forehead forcing her head down onto the pillow. 

“Good… I want that nut all over me…”

That was it.

The floodgates, literally, were open. And she swore she’d never had such an intense, mind-numbing, out-of-body, orgasm in her entire life. Her pussy spasmed and clenched around him, her clit throbbed at an almost worrying rate, and it seemed the entire room spun. Every time he pulled out, she gushed all over him, the effects amplifying with every careen back inside. 

“Damn,” he bit under his breath, trying to glance down at the mess she’d made as she cried and screamed. All because of him. He’d be a liar if he said it didn’t stroke his ego to an extreme degree. 

Once he knew she was on the tail end of her release, his movements returned to their primal state, his focus entirely on chasing his own. Her body, pliant and spent beneath him, was his to take. Watching her back arch and her body write, he held her firmly in place. The slick, heated connection between them was everything, and he let out a roar of sorts as he slammed into her, driven by nothing but need.

“Goddamn,” he growled, rising to his knees. His hands slid to her waist, pulling her into him as he fucked her weightless body. “Look at the fuckin’ mess you made… such a good girl f’me.”

She could barely feel anything at this point, other than immense satisfaction at seeing her man get off using her. 

“That’s it, Daddy,” she whispered softly, encouraging, despite her trembling form. “Take what you need… Use me. I love when you use me like this…”

Biting harshly onto his lips, he moaned deeply, the filthy edge in her voice sparking all the feral within his soul. “Yeah? Love bein’ Daddy’s good girl, huh?” he muttered roughly through exertion, loving the way she still jolted and twitched in her overstimulation. “Love being my little plaything?”

“Yes,” she moaned breathily. “I love it…”

Her eyes locked onto his, filled with exhaustion and yearning, and she reached for him, her hands skimming up his arms, his veins bulging and prominent under her touch as he grabbed her tightly. “Come on, Daddy,” she invited with a sultry lilt. “Wherever you want…”

The filthy promise in her voice made his stomach tighten, his body aching with the need to let go. Then, with a predatory gleam in his eye, he pulled out, crawling further up her body and planting one foot flat on the mattress, giving him some leverage. He wrapped a hand around his red hot cock, pumping himself as he hovered over her, eyeing every inch of her body.

“You want it, sweetheart?” he asked through a shaky huff. “You want this nut? Don’t worry, baby, imma give you it all…”

“Yes,” she moaned up at him, watching as his long fingers squeezed around the shiny tip, grunting as translucent pearls dripped down onto his hand. “Please, Joe… I need it, baby, I need you to cum for me.”

“Where, baby? You want it on these perfect fuckin’ tits, huh? Your pretty face? Tell me, Y/N, tell me where you need Daddy’s nut…”

“Wherever you want, Daddy, I just wanna feel it all over me.”

His jaw tightened as he pumped his hand faster, biceps straining, eyes locked on her breasts, her stomach, the curve of her thighs as she kept them apart, allowing him the gorgeous view of her swollen, used pussy. “You’re so fuckin’ perfect,” he groaned unsteadily. “Never lettin’ your ass go, you hear me? You’re mine.”

“Uh-huh,” she agreed, nodding her head as she slid her hands up to his sweat-sheened chest. “Always yours. Show me… mark me. Ruin me for everyone else.”

With a sharp, loud moan, his body tensed. “Fuck, here it is, baby…” And with a shudder, he spilled over, cock pulsing as spurts of his release coated her breasts, some landing on her torso. He leaned over, one hand on the pillow beside her head, his breath ragged, watching as his load glistened on her skin.

“Hmm…” he grumbled, lips caught between his teeth as he breathed out his nose. He gave his cock a final squeeze before reaching out to brush his fingers through the mess he’d made, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction as she pulled his wrist up so she could clean off his fingers with her tongue. “So goddamn beautiful.”

Her lips curled into a soft smile as he gazed up at him in adoration, her hands caressing his arms, fingertips stopping to massage small circles into the muscles. “And all yours,” she said quietly and steadily, despite the intensity between them.

Mirroring her smile, he leaned down to kiss her deeply, his hand cupping her face. “Damn right,” he mumbled. “All mine.”

Joe lingered over her, his thumb brushing her heated cheek as her chest rose and fell, still catching her breath. For a moment, neither of them really moved, their foreheads lightly touching as the afterglow settled over them like a warm blanket. Her hands slid up his arms to rest on his shoulders, her grip soft but steady, as though letting him go too soon might break the spell.

He kissed her forehead first, then the tip of her nose, before finally pressing his lips to hers again—slowly this time, not the all-consuming kind of kiss they’d been sharing, but something sweet, gentler, filled with quiet adoration. She smiled against his mouth, reluctant to let him pull away.

“I’ll be right back,” Joe murmured, his voice low and gravelly as he pecked her nose. “Stay here, baby. Lemme grab somethin’ to clean you up.”

She pouted, her arms tightening around his neck. “Don’t go yet,” she whispered breathily.

Joe chuckled softly, the sound rumbling in his chest. “You’re clingy now, huh? What happened to the girl who wanted me to use her?” he teased, arching a brow.

A playful glare crossed her face as she lightly smacked his shoulder. “I didn’t mean that literally,” she retorted, her lips twitching into a smile. “You’re the one who gets all… extra.”

“Extra?” Joe repeated, pretending to be offended as he leaned closer, their noses brushing again. “You love how extra I am.”

She giggled, her face warm as she tried to pull him back down. “Yeah, I do. So maybe stay here a little longer.”

Joe sighed dramatically, but the affection in his gaze betrayed him. “You lucky you cute,” he muttered, stealing another kiss before gently untangling himself from her. She made a sound of protest as he stood up, the bed dipping slightly as his weight shifted, but he gave her a quick wink. “Two seconds, gorgeous. Don’t go anywhere.”

She watched him walk toward the bathroom, her gaze lingering on the broad lines of his back and the way his shoulders flexed with every step.

As he disappeared into the bathroom, she sank back into the pillows, the cool sheets soothing her overheated skin. Her legs still felt like jelly, and a satisfied hum escaped her as she stretched out. The faint sound of water running reached her ears, and she smiled to herself, still basking in the sanctuary of the moment.

When he returned, towel in hand, the sight of him standing there—naked, hair tousled, a seemingly permanent little smile on his face—made her heart tumble in her chest. He was everything: a force of nature, her safe space, and somehow, her biggest weakness.

“Alright, spread ‘em,” he joked, holding up the towel like he was about to snap it like a gym coach. “Let’s get you sorted.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “You’re so annoying.”

“And yet, here you are,” he grinned, settling on the edge of the bed and gently wiping her down. His touch was grateful, almost reverent, as he cleaned her skin. Never rushing. Taking his time to make sure she was comfortable.

“You alright?” he asked softly, glancing up at her as he worked. “I didn’t go too hard, did I?”

“No,” she assured him. “You were perfect. As always.”

His lips twitched, and he leaned down to kiss her knee before tossing the towel aside. “Damn right,” he said. “But you’re not half bad yourself, baby.”

“Not half bad?” she repeated, rolling her eyes and shoving his shoulder. “That’s the best you’ve got?”

Grinning, he pulled her into him and wrapped his arms around her. “Fine. You’re amazing. Incredible. The best thing that’s ever happened to me. Happy now?”

Getting there,” she teased, resting her head against his chest. “But keep going. I like hearing it.”

Joe chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Greedy,” he hummed affectionately. “But yeah, I’ll keep tellin’ you. ‘Cause it’s true.”

They stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in each other, the quiet hum of their breathing and the AC filling the room. But then, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed something missing from the bed and stifled a chuckle.

“Joe,” she said, half amused, half exasperated. “Your laptop.”

He frowned, glancing over his shoulder to see his laptop lying on its side by the bed. “Aw, hell,” he muttered, carefully shifting her off of him before reaching down to pick it up. “If this thing’s broken, I’m blaming you.”

She laughed, watching as he flipped it open and checked the screen. “It’s not my fault your balance sucks,” she pointed out. “Maybe you shouldn’t be throwing me around so much.”

He shot her a look, raising an eyebrow. “Your ass wasn't complainin’ fifteen minutes ago,” he said, smirking as he tested the keys. “And it’s fine. Indestructible, just like me.”

“Modest, too,” she said dryly, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Obviously,” he replied, setting the laptop on the nightstand before climbing back into bed. “Now, where were we?”

She snuggled up to him, resting her head on his shoulder. “We were talking about how amazing I am.”

Joe cackled lightly, wrapping an arm around her. “Nah, we were about to talk about how much trouble you’re gonna be when we go public.”

Her breath caught in her throat, and she lifted her head to look at him. “You… want to go public?” she asked, her nerves taking her voice.

Meeting her gaze, his eyelids dropped. Serious. But warm. “Baby, I don’t care who knows,” he sighed. “I meant it when I said it’s nobody else’s business, but if you’re ready to tell the world, then so am I. Let ‘em know you’re mine.”

Her heart swelled, and he leaned in to kiss him, her lips lingering against his. “I’m so fucking ready,” she murmured with intent. “I don’t care what anyone thinks anymore. I just… I want us to be real. Out in the open.”

He nodded, brushing hair from her forehead. “Then that’s what we’ll do,” he said simply.

She smiled, letting her weight go against him. “We’re gonna have to tell Vince, you know.”

Joe let out a quiet laugh. “Oh, I’m sure he’ll have a field day with that.”

“You think he’ll care?”

“Not as long as we’re professional,” he shrugged. “But if anyone’s got a problem with it, they’re gonna have to deal with me.”

“Big talk,” she teased, her lips curving into a playful grin.

“You know it,” he rallied. “Besides, who’s gonna mess with the Big Dog’s girl?”

“The Big Dog’s girl, huh?” She felt her body flushing all over again.

“Mmhmm,” he nodded, pulling her closer. “You’re mine, baby. And now, everyone’s gonna know it.”

She let out a content sigh against his chest, feeling a warmth spread through her that had nothing to do with the heat of his skin, and everything to do with how he made her feel—soul to soul.

As they settled under the sheets, he grabbed his laptop again, powering it on. “What do you wanna watch?”

Tilting her head to see his laptop screen, she nestled the side of her face into his pec. “Anything. As long as I don’t have to get up for the rest of the night.”

“Good answer.”

As he searched title after title on Netflix, she glanced up at him, her heart full. For the first time, Y/N felt completely at ease, knowing that they were going forward as one—no more hiding, no more pretending. 

Nowhere else she’d rather be.

And just everything she’d ever wanted.

[mae-gi-writes]

let it be me | kuroo tetsurou (3)

In which you, as a new divorcée, can't help but crush on your 4-year-old's new PE Coach.

genre: singleparent!reader x coach! Kuroo, fluff, acquaintances-to-lovers

taglist: @patpatspatz @matchagirliris @multi-fandom-fanfic @alittlebirdahgaselx @kuroos--little--kitten @menacejelly12 @aeshiue @dreamlessnight @altheades @loonalockley @not-your-average-fangirl @bertqut1 @sunlixfl-blog @nabboo007

a/n: enjoy! <3 thanks for all the love given to the first part of this story! here's the second part. Third part is coming soon ~

---- previous | part three | next part >>>

"Seems like the night out helped then?"

Osamu can't hide his grin from the way you're flushing a deep red. It's so cute and adorable to see you this way, after months and months of just having the corpse of your soul wander around his coffee bar like you didn't know where else to go.

Now it seems, is a completely different story. You're glowing.

"How do you know that?" you almost splutter out your coffee as you gawk at your cousin from the other end of the bar.

Osamu proceeds to wipe down the counter. It's a Monday afternoon and it seems that the activity has slowed down somewhat, giving him a chance to catch up with you. He tries to stop the smile from spreading across his face as he answers, "how do you think I know?"

"Your brother can't keep his mouth shut now, can he?" you mutter into your coffee with a scowl.

Osamu laughs, "can you blame him? This is probably the first time since your breakup that you've even considered the possibility of going out and meeting new people. Let alone go through with it. You should be thanking him--"

"He takes too much credit for my happiness. He doesn't need more stroking to his ego."

"Point taken," Osamu can't argue with that. His brother is somewhat of an egocentric bastard. One with a kind heart and a nice smile nevertheless. But still a bastard. Done with the cleaning, he walks over to you as he leans atop the kitchen counter, "so? How was it then?"

"Fine."

Osamu's brow raises, "give me a bit more than that, y/n. I'm not stupid."

You pause, "it was..." the words feel weird swimming along your tongue, "...fun."

"Right?" your cousin breaks into a grin, "and how's the little chica doin'?"

"The little chica is a little too obsessed with her PE teacher."

"At least she likes him."

You hum, "point taken."

Talking to Osamu is a lot easier than his twin counterpart, solely because he isn't as dramatic and is rather subtle, able to control his emotions better and easier to have a conversation with actual sense without going off the rails every five minutes. It was refreshing, despite the fact that you didn't spend as much time as the grey-haired young man due to clashing schedules.

"So...this Kuroo guy..."

A groan can't help but fall from your lips as your head hits the counter, "Osamu, I'm twenty-nine. I don't need any boy talk--"

"Oh yes you do honey," he sing-songs and leans even closer, grey eyes sparkling. It's in these moments that he resembles Atsumu so much you wish to whack him one, "just because your father ain't here doesn't mean you get to do whatever you wa--"

"Enough." your hand shoots out, slapping onto Osamu's mouth.

He pulls away with a cackle, wiping his hands along his apron, "I'm serious though. Kuroo's a good guy, but if he ever does anything out of line--"

"Yeah yeah I got it."

"--I'll kick his balls so hard--"

"Osamu!"

"Okay okay," he chuckles and holds out his hands in surrender, and you glower at him from your seat.

It's bad enough that Atsumu has constantly been wheedling some answers out of you. Adding Osamu to the mix is not something you want on your agenda. Ever since that night, you have been exchanging messages with the said PE Coach despite the growing anxiety about where this will all lead to. But in-between organizing events for your job, baking cakes and debating on whether to sign those darned papers, it's been a welcome distraction.

Okay, maybe more than a welcome distraction.

It's been...amazing.

Something to look forward to. Someone that seemed to understand you, your sense of humor, who doesn't judge and makes you smile no matter what mood you might be in. And somehow, it's hard for your heart to just close off when Kuroo is so insistent on making it melt into a puddle of goo.

Like that one time you were late to pick up Sakura from athletics practice for instance, having been taken up with a client on the other side of the city centre only to have rushed through traffic like a madwoman, arriving when the courtyard was practically empty. Panicked and more than a little worried about Sakura's whereabouts, you had found her at the entrance of the gymnasium, playing footsie with none other than Kuroo.

"Oh," Kuroo noticed you first, golden eyes lighting up just as your daughter's head turned towards the source of curiosity, "Mum!"

She'd dashed over and you'd cradled her in your arms, your heart finally able to resume its normal beating now that you knew she was safe and sound.

You'd looked up at Kuroo then, with his ball tucked under one arm as he casually strode over to you. The words felt pathetic and useless as they tumbled out of your mouth, "I'm --thank you, for staying with her."

"It's no problem," he stopped before you, a smile dancing across the curve of his lips, "it's a good excuse to see you, I suppose."

You blinked at him, "huh?"

And then the words hit you like a truck.

Your face colored so fast even Sakura took note, tilting her head up at you as her eyebrows furrowed in concern, "mum are you okay? You're all red--"

"Oh I'm fine, just--you know, the heat--" you were glad for that excuse. Your entire chest area felt on fire, "I--uhm--It's nice to see you too, I guess--Kuroo-sensei."

It was just impossible to miss the sparkle in Kuroo's eyes and you swore you could feel the warmth from him, like a cozy blanket on a cold night wrapping around you. That was before you'd quickly excused yourself and practically bolted.

Another time you'd been late in dropping Sakura off, having slept in and barely being able to shove a few bits of toast down your throat in hopes of beating the morning traffic. Kuroo, it seemed, had been assigned to morning duty that time, and as you'd rushed through the gates with Sakura in tow, you quickly bowed to him before ushering Sakura to her class.

"Go now," you pressed a quick kiss to your daugher's forehead, "I'll see you after school okay?"

"Yes mum," and Sakura had sauntered away as you watched, breathless and chest heaving, a piece of hair stuck to your lip.

"Everything okay, Kosuke-san?"

When you turned to see Kuroo, hands in the pockets of his basketball shorts and looking all too fine with his PE jersey draped over his broad shoulders like a runaway model, your eyes flitted away with embarrassment.

"Yeah," you nodded, "morning traffic is terrible."

"I bet," Kuroo's eyes flitted down and you followed, only to make a small sound of embarrassment as you spotted two different pairs of sneakers on your feet, "someone woke up late today."

You really want to hide. Maybe duck your head in a whole. Maybe ignore him—

But you can’t, and so you can just shuffle awkwardly like a penguin, “I—was trying out a new style.”

Lame. But what else could you say?

Kuroo’s laugh bought warmth to your cheeks and before you knew it, his fingers had come up to untangle the hair stuck to your face. He pushed it back behind your ear.

“Suits you,” his voice drops to a murmur.

Every single cell in your body had exploded and you’d quickly fumbled for an excuse before rushing into your car as far away as you possibly could.

You tried your best to push him to the back of your mind, for there were a million other things to take care of. Like the divorce papers for example, which had been glaring at you from your coffee table ever since the mailman had deposited it right outside your doorstep.

You were all for signing it, but every time you mustered up the courage to, Atsumu’s words rang like an echo inside your head:

Don’t do it unless you’re getting something out of it.

It keeps eating away at you, the mixture of guilt and remorse. Not to forget the fact that you’ve been adamantly staying away every time you see Aoi’s name flashing across your screen. That all comes to an end one Friday evening when he rolls up in his car to pick up Sakura for the weekend.

Your daughter, unaware of what’s going on, is quick to stick her face to the window, “papa!”

Her shriek makes you wince. Once, this name had made your heart warm.

Now, it just hurts.

“Hey,” Aoi lets himself in with practiced ease and you turn away to stuff the remaining items in Sakura’s bag, all so that you can avoid watching the scene because it hurts a little too much.

“Papa, I’ve been playing a loooot of volleyball recently!” Sakura’s jumping around like an excited pup, “—and I even scored a point once!”

“You?” You hear Aoi chuckle and zip up Sakura’s bag a bit too harshly, “you barely have the height to reach the net!”

“It’s not the actual net Papa!” Sakura scowls then, “it’s a children’s net! Papa, you really need to come pick me up more often. You’ll understand what it looks like then!”

“Yeah you’re right Kura, maybe I should.”

Ache and longing seep through your chest. You couldn’t help not listening in when they were right in front of you, but you did your best in blocking out your ex-husband’s voice as you wrap up the last of her belongings just as Sakura’s voice belts out in surprise:

“Kuroo-sensei?!”

Huh? Your head whips up so fast that you feel the ache of it at the back of your neck. Sakura meanwhile, jumps up and down in barely restrained excitement while pointing at the window, “mum! Mum did you see?! Kuroo-sensei is here!” She turns to look at you, “Why is he here mum?”

Sure enough, the said young man stands at the doorstep, hands in his pockets and leaning against the threshold in a manner that has your heart racing.

You scramble to your feet at the same time that Aoi straightens and swivels towards the door.

Surprise flits through Kuroo’s eyes, lasting a millisecond before he’s grinning and extending a friendly hand, “hey,” he directs it towards your ex-husband, “I’m Kuroo, Sakura’s PE coach.”

“Nice to meet you,” Aoi gives his hand a deft shake and you want nothing more than to disappear, “I’m Sakura’s father.”

“Yes, I see the ressemblance,” Kuroo smiles wanly just as the said child bounds straight into his arms, “Kuroo-sensei! What are you doing here?”

You ignore the way Aoi is drilling holes into your skull. Now is definitely not the time for explanations.

What kind of explanations do you owe him anyway? It's not like he's asked for your permission before he went and played love island with some kind of bimbo you barely knew existed.

“Hey munchkin!” Kuroo sweeps her up and she shrieks in delight before settling her back down, “I’m here for your mum today.”

He is? Your eyes widen, finding his own golden irises in a silent question that Kuroo only responds with a bashful grin.

“Really? Where are you taking mum? Can I come along?” Sakura, as clueless as ever, bounces up and down in delight.

You’re quick to intervene, “Sakura, you’re spending the weekend with Papa remember? He’s been waiting all week to spend some time with you.”

“Yeah, don’t you want some time alone with your dad, kiddo?” Aoi spreads his arms, “come on! Didn’t you want to go to the zoo?!”

Sakura gasps at that, her eyes going round, “we’re going to the zoo?!” She all but squeaks.

You can’t resist smiling at her reactions, leaning down towards her before tucking her hair behind her ear, “that’s what you wanted wasn’t it?”

But her chubby hand grabs onto yours, “are you coming?”

The words pierce you and you take a small inhale. Your eyes find Aoi’s from across the room and though you know it’s not his fault, you know this isn’t something he did just on a whim, your eyes say everything you cannot: you did this to us.

Instead, you’re forced to smile down at her, smoothing one hand over the back of her head, “it’s just going to be you and papa today alright Sakura? And then I’ll see you when you get back tomorrow.”

Her face falls and something twists in your gut, “okay,” her voice is small when she answers.

But you have no choice but to let her go, watching as her father grabbed onto her hand and walked out of the door. You can’t look at Kuroo’s face, knowing that there’s probably pity written all across his features. Definitely not something that you’d want if the situation were reversed.

You’re surprised he still hasn’t high-tailed it back to his car up until now. But maybe he’s just being polite.

“I’m sorry,” is the first thing that makes its way out of your mouth when you finally gather up the courage to face him.

Your eyes stay glued on a spot along his shirt, glad for his tall height as you continue muttering out, “it’s just a bad time, I didn’t know you were coming—“

“Actually I’m the one that should be sorry.”

Your eyes flit up to his, the gentleness in his voice throwing you off guard and what you find in those golden pupils make your heart flutter slightly.

Kuroo just gazes down at you with a small smile,looking a little sheepish, “I realize I just barged in when I wasn’t really welcome.”

“No—no, no! Not at all!” You lift your arms in a sign of surrender, “I’m curious though… why did you? Come, I mean. Is there—“ you hesitate slightly, “—is there something you need?”

“Well,” his smile blossomed into a grin. Pressing against the countertop, he leans forward towards you, “I wasn’t kidding when I said that I came by to see you.”

His words cause a blush to spread across your cheeks, “don’t—say things like that,” you stammer out, “people will misunderstand.”

“Misunderstand what exactly?”

“What we are, our relationship,” you let out a breath and shake your head, “anyway, it doesn’t matter. So? What’d you come here for?”

“Like I said,” his eyes are golden glimmers, sparkling with mischief, “I came to see you.”

“Surely it’s not just that,” you splutter.

“More specifically I came to hang out,” he continues, “I heard there’s this new italian place that just opened up a few streets down. Since you seem free, would you like to accompany me?”

“I—uhm—“ the request is so sporadic it sends your brain into a fuzzy cloud, thoughts scattering and making no sense as you try and piece together a reason as to why you cannot make it out.

Your subconscious is begging you to go, practically kneeling on both knees and jumping up and down in excitement. Your brain though, the logical part, is pulling her hair out at the atrocity of it all.

“Fine,” is what you blurt out. Before you even realize what you’ve said. But when Kuroo gives you that million-watt smile you think that maybe it’s all kind of worth it.

———

“No way, he wouldn’t do that—“

“Oh no, he did.” Kuroo snorts into his drink. Leaning back against the parisian chair in which he’s seated as he splays his legs out before him, you fold one leg over the over, all too aware of how physically close he is. If you moved your leg any further you’re certain to brush against his knee.

A delicious, yet terrifying thought.

Kuroo chatters on with the story about Atsumu being kicked out of the boy’s dorm, “when the manager finally found him, they made him do two-hundred pushups and thirty laps around the training grounds. Was a pretty worthy sight, if you ask me.”

“That sounds exactly like what Atsumu would do,” you can’t help but roll your eyes. Trust your cousin to go through all that incessant stuff just because he’d opened his big mouth.

“How come I’ve never seen you around before?” Kuroo leans back in his seat, golden eyes scanning your face as if trying to piece together his memories of whether he’d seen you or not, “you’re related to them. You should’ve popped up sometime in the picture.”

“I—“ a lump fills the back of your throat and you press your lips together, look away, “we weren't close as we were growing up. They were so--so overwhelming and I was a shy kid. Until Sakura came into the picture."

Kuroo's eyes are warm. Warmer as he keeps on gazing at you with a softness, with the kind of gentleness that makes your heart ache. He's not supposed to look at you like that. Most people will clear their throat at this point in the conversation, or turn their head away.

But he doesn't. He just keeps his eyes on you at all costs. Like you're the most important thing in this room.

You're not sure how to feel about that.

"But when they heard I was pregnant, Atsumu and Osamu were there practically every day," a small smile flickers across your face at the memories that resurface, "they took care of me a lot, especially since my parents were so angry."

You let out a small chuckle, but it's definitely far from funny. It sounds hollow even in the bustling restaurant.

Kuroo leans forward so that his arms rest atop the table, muscles bunching and tensing as he does so. Gorgeous, you think to yourself as he says, "you were alone during your pregnancy?"

"Not actually alone," the smile you show now his bitter, "I had Aoi. At the time he was a really good husband. We got married quickly, just civil, because our parents didn't approve of us keeping the baby. It was quite a shock for them. And I had my two cousins to help me out whenever Aoi wasn't there."

"That must've been hard."

"It wasn't that bad," you take a sip of your water, glad for the distraction.

Kuroo shifts, his knee brushing yours. The warmth sizzles up your leg and a knot forms in your chest. God, you really can't take this.

Almost out of impulse, you find yourself blurting out, "Kuroo-sensei, can I ask you something?"

He tilts his head to the side, a sign for you to go on.

"Why--" the words get clogged up in your throat, "why are you being nice to me?"

The last few words are said in a whisper, for fear of what he will say in return. You hide your hands in your lap to stop them from shaking, but it seems your leg takes on a life of its own as it starts jiggling up and down.

"Kosuke-san."

And that's when Kuroo's hand rests atop your knee. Barely there. Yet searing hot.

Your breath hitches.

You blink at him, heart racing.

He cracks a small, comforting smile. The kind of smile that is crooked at the corners and makes his eyes crinkle up, "you're not scared of me, are you?"

"No," you mumble out, "just scared of your answer."

You shouldn't be so comfortable with him touching you like that. It's gentle, barely there, feather light. It should be scandalous. You should be technically ripping his hand off because in any other normal setting this would count as perverse.

And yet.

Yet, his touch ignites heat that sears right through the material of your jeans. Your heart flutters at his touch and your leg freezes in mid-shake, unsure of whether to continue when his gaze makes you feel a multitude of things, things that you're not sure are good considering what happened in the past.

When Kuroo answers next, you almost swoon right out of your chair. His voice dips into a murmur, one so raw and throaty it turns your insides to mush:

"Because I think you deserve some kindness."

"So," your forehead creases as you attempt to decipher his words, "do you pity me, then?"

“No, well—maybe a little, at first,” he catches himself, cheeks suddenly blazing full pink under your gaze, “obviously, it’s hard not to sympathize when I see a single mother doing her best for her daughter.”

“Surely I’m not the only single mother in that entire school.”

“No, but you’re different,” Kuroo’s eyes fill with warmth, “and also, not all parents are as kind as you are."

"That's not really--"

“You’d be surprised,” Kuroo cuts you off with a raised brow, “don’t be so naive, Kosuke-san. People aren’t as nice as you might make them out to be,” his eyes lock on yours, “but you are.”

You look away and swallow thickly, “yeah— I suppose.”

His hand is still on your knee. One part of you wants to move away. The rational part screaming that this shouldn’t be appropriate at all. Yet another bigger part of you is squealing in delight in hopes that he never takes it off.

You don't know which part of your brain you wish to turn off and trample on until it's just an afterthought in your subconscious.

Thankfully, the waiter approaches and Kuroo's hand drops away from your skin. He insists on paying the bill despite your best efforts and even goes as far as to drive you back home in his beat-up truck.

"Thank you," you mumble as you spot your front door, void of any activity now that Sakura's at her father's. It's always like this; lonely nights, with thoughts of what-ifs trickling through the back of your brain like a never-ending stream of water that gets muddied the more time passes. You understand and are happy that she at least has a father who wants to be in her life. That's the least you could've asked for from your ex-- well, soon to be ex-husband once you sign that darned paper -- but it's the thought of the other woman that makes you sick in the stomach. Jealousy churns like an ache that spreads and knots and tightens. What if Sakura likes her stepmom better? What if the other woman gives her everything she wants, everything she needs without batting a single eyelid?

You're so caught up in your own head that you barely hear Kuroo's murmur, until he's calling out your name from the driver's seat.

You quickly spin your head towards his, a guilty smile curving across your lips, "sorry, I got lost in my head for a second," you chuckle in hopes that it will dissipate the sudden tension filling the vehicle, glancing out of your apartment complex and glad that, for once, there's a bit of light flickering in the corridors.

"Thanks for bringing me home," you tell him.

"Pleasure is all mine," Kuroo replies. His eyes are on you though, as if reading right through you.

So you quickly try to dispel his worry by saying, "I'm just going to go up and rest. It's been quite a day and--"

"Do you--" he hesitates, purses his lips in thought, "do you want me to hang out for a while? Until you're sleepy and kick me out."

You're not too certain what to do except gawk at him. Which he takes as a cue that you might've twisted his words in the wrong way. For he quickly adds in a scramble of words, "Not--Not like you're inviting me over or anything. Just--I mean, as a friend. I just--I could keep you company."

His words echo in the silence and something in your heart swells at the kind gesture. Kuroo says that you're kind, but he clearly doesn't see how much effort he does for you. And here he is, sitting there looking bashful and embarrassed about asking to keep you company. Your heart melts a little and you agree, showing him the way to the guest parking.

Just as a friend, you try to tell your heart, just as a friend. And nothing else.

-----

If someone had asked you, a few weeks ago, whether Kuroo was a fine catch. You'd probably answer yes and move on with your day.

But now, your life seems so entwined with his that you're not sure whether that's a good or a bad thing.

After your little outing a few weeks ago where he'd decided to keep you company in the dark hours until the very early morning, you'd seemed to have crossed a bridge that you cannot back-pedal no matter how hard you try. If you close your eyes, you can still imagine the vivid picture of the two of you; first at the kitchen table sharing a glass of wine as you kept babbling about random stories and tales from your childhood, before you'd finally landed on the couch playing a crazy game of Mario kart, courtesy of Aoi's mistake of having forgotten his Switch when he'd first decided to move out.

You'd never had so much fun in so long that you'd almost cried yourself to sleep that night, right after Kuroo had stumbled out of your flat. He'd blatantly refused your couch as guest room, saying that staying over would just be more of a hassle when he had early classes the next morning.

But that doesn't stop him from seeing you when he can. Nor you him. And it's become something of an addiction.

He drops by every week now whenever Sakura's gone to her father's place. These nights are spent playing scrabble, watching reruns of Harry Potter like the nerds you are, and holding conversations that run longer than you'd expect them to. It seems like routine for Kuroo to clock out around one in the morning and every time he does walk away and disappear down the corridor, something in your heart clenches at his absence.

The flat does feel a little too lonely once Kuroo's gone. But you'd never tell him that small fact.

Today he's come around a little earlier than usual, due to a special meeting between teachers and parents that the school had organised. He's busy playing house with Sakura while you're preparing the pizza base for your night in, something that you hadn't done since--well, ever since Aoi had moved out actually. But now, you're even humming to imaginary music and glancing at the living room couch where Kuroo is currently giving a full-on review about Sakura's imaginary cooking skills.

Your heart swells tenfold and you swear the sight makes you cry. It's what you crave for, it's what Aoi had done for you once, for your family. Before he'd decided that you weren't good enough and had moved on to someone else.

"--perfect combination of sweet and spicy. I think I'mma gives this Mac and cheese a perfect ten out of ten," Kuroo was saying just as the front door rang.

You went to open it, wiping your hands down the front of your jeans before unlocking the door.

The sight of Aoi always made your heart sink and your stomach churn.

But not today. Today, your heart barely acknowledges him and you think it's good progress. You even go as far as give him a smile, "hey Aoi."

"Hi Y/N," he keeps glancing behind your back and you're pretty certain why; it's the sight of Kuroo with his daughter, probably, that unnerves him.

Your suspicions are proved right when he mutters, "what's he doing here again?"

It's low, like a grumble, so that only you can hear it in this vicinity.

You straighten, "he's my friend. He's spending the evening with me today."

"Like he's been doing every week?"

"Yes," you raise a brow, prop a hand on your hip, "is that a problem?"

"I have one problem, yes," Aoi scowls back, "why is he spending time with our daughter like he deserves it?"

"Why is that a problem? Do you not let--what's her name again? Josie? Jodie? -- do you not let her play and spend time with Sakura?"

"It's Judy, and she's going to be my wife, Sakura's stepmother," Aoi hisses and you can't help but flinch, "don't you think you're just making it harder for Sakura? It's been bad enough with the divorce and everything--"

What? You chuckle and that ignites into a laugh so hollow and void of emotion that Aoi flinches, "excuse me?" the nerve of this man. Your voice hardens, "I'm the one making it harder for Sakura? Tell me Aoi, who's the one who left?"

"I left because I was unhappy--"

"So was I!" you suddenly spit out, anger rising through you. You don't care that Kuroo can hear you now. Well, you should care that Sakura's witnessing one of the many fights you will have with her father. But you can't take it. Not all this belittling.

Not when you're finally feeling something other than this overwhelming grief that plagues you and breaks you into tiny pieces every time you look at that fucking darned document.

Your knuckles shake so hard you have to tighten them into fists that you glue to your sides.

You continue, "I was unhappy and guess why? It was all because of you! Because you always had something--you barely spent time with us after Sakura was born and--and we barely talked! You didn't want to talk. Heck, you made sure to steer clear of me whenever we were in the same darned house," your voice rose with each sentence, the clench in your stomach finally unleashed after restraining it, holding it in for Sakura's sake.

"But I endured. I endured it, because we had a daughter. We had a child, and goddamn it I was responsible enough to think of her first, and not myself," you snarl, for once glad that Aoi seems at loss for words, almost panicked, "and--what? You're lecturing me about making it hard for her? About being selfish?" you snicker and spread your arms wide, "look around Aoi. You know who's responsible for this mess, and it's definitely not me."

The silence that follows your little monologue is so heavy and laden with emotion that nobody dares break it. Even Sakura has stopped talking, though you don't know what's happening behind your back, wanting to keep your eyes on that fucking bastard and end this, once and for all.

When Aoi does nothing to answer -- because what's he going to say when you're right?-- you swivel, go to retrieve the signed divorce papers atop your kitchen table you've been dutifully ignoring until now, and storm back to him.

"And here," you thrust the papers at him so suddenly he shrieks as he grapples with the folder, "you can take your damned divorce papers. I don't need them, and I don't need you."

And before Aoi can say anything else, you've slammed the door in his face.

Bang.

Silence.

You can hear a pin drop.

You're heaving, chest rattling with every breath, gaze fixated on the door.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

It's the relief that sweeps in first, through the cracks of anger that slowly melt away.

And then, realisation that nothing will ever be the same.

Then, grief.

It hits you like a truck.

Everything you've worked for. Everything you had lost.

You're not sure when your body decides to crumple to the ground, just that there are warm arms to catch you this time before a soft baritone echoes through the side of your head, through your chest and making you want to cry.

Kuroo is talking, and somewhere in-between the lines of numbness and pain you make sense that he wants to take Sakura out for a bit, just enough time for you to recollect your thoughts. You're so lost in your own thoughts that he has to repeat a question twice for you to snap to attention.

"Do you want me to stay? Or do you want me to go? Up to you, anything that makes you happy."

Kuroo is babbling, but the fact that he even asks you for what you want, for once, makes your chest ache with terrible sweetness. You don't deserve him in any shape or form.

You nod, and Kuroo takes it as a good sign, for he prompts, "what do you want me to do Y/N?"

As if on impulse, his hand pushes stray hairs away from your face. The action is gentle, kind. Almost loving.

Almost.

"Take her out," you manage to mumble, "please, Kuroo. I--I don't want her to see me like this."

"Got it." And Kuroo's off, scooping up Sakura with a playful tone, distracting her from the mess that you are huddled over in the corner of the living room as he shoves his shoes on and strides out of the flat so that all is left is you, the echo of silence that remains, and the feelings lying in the pit of your stomach.

-----

It's some time later that you hear the lock twisting in the door. You've managed to pull yourself together by then, finishing up the pizzas so that they're warm and fresh out of the oven. Sakura's footsteps echo against the wooden floor as she runs over to you.

"Mum!"

You force a smile. It comes a little easier when you see your daughter so excited, "hello, you," you coo. She slams her entire body right into your mid-section and your arm wraps around her, "how was the walk with Kuroo-sensei?"

"We saw ducks! And--And Kuroo-sensei let me play on the swings. He even pushed me so that I went up high!" Sakura's chubby finger pointed towards the ceiling to show just how high it was, and you chuckled before hugging her close. Feeling the warmth of her small body against yours is something you'll never really get over. It's like she fits and moulds right into the crevices of your broken parts to make them whole again.

Your eyes travel over to the said young man in question who's been responsible for so much of her happiness, and you soften, "thank you," you mouth to him over the kitchen counter.

He shakes his head and sends you a smile. It melts your insides, warming your tummy and instantly causing your cheeks to flush bright red.

You look away with a sharp swallow, "I've made something that looks like dinner," you propose tentatively, "if you'd like to stay."

You don't look at him as he strides over, big steps closing the gap between the front door and the dining table. He shrugs off his coat in the process, "I'm always in for food."

It would be stupid of you to think that such a normal dinner routine might make Kuroo forget all about what happened a little earlier. But it's the way his eyes search your face when he thinks you're not looking, the way the concern swims in his entire demeanour, like he's not sure whether he can completely relax yet.

Part of you is more than horrified by this turn of events. You don't want Sakura's sports coach thinking you're an unsuitable parent, nor do you want him to know about your personal matters considering he's a bit too close to home. It's embarrassing and humiliating and every time you meet his eyes by accident across the table you make sure to look away as quickly as you can.

The other, more selfish part of you, though, is suddenly relishing in the warmth that Kuroo's presence brings to the flat. And you can't help but crave for more, despite knowing this is not what's best for you and your little girl.

After all, even if Kuroo did think of you that way -- which he doesn't by the way -- he'd be tied down with a liability that's too hard to bear when it's not your own child.

Cleaning up after dinnertime in silence, Kuroo volunteers to take charge so that you can put Sakura to bed. You send him an apologetic smile, quickly going through the bedtime motions with your daughter before you can tuck her into bed.

"Mum," Sakura's voice is merely above a whisper as she cuddles into her blanket. The sight is so cute, it makes your heart swell and you resist the urge to coo, "Are you okay Mum?"

You pause, hiss in a breath.

What are you supposed to tell her?

What exactly are you supposed to say?

You manage to choke out a soft, "I'm alright."

"Is Papa okay?"

"Yes," your heart breaks a little more. You barely manage to murmur, "yes he's okay sweetie. Just--It's been a hard time."

"Why Mum?"

You don't know what to say, so you opt for pushing her hair away from her face, "well, sometimes adults face difficult decisions. And those decisions ...they hurt us. Sometimes."

"Did Papa hurt you today?"

Tears well at the corner of your eyes but you refuse to sniff, refuse to show her that you're as battered and beaten as what your heart says.

"No sweetie, he didn't--he would never hurt me, or you. Because he's your Papa and he--he loves you very much."

"Does he really?"

"Yes," you wrap your arms around her in a hug, hoping that this will dissipate all her queries, all her suspicions of her father, "yes he does. He really does love you. A lot."

From the depths of your arms, you hear your daughter's soft echo of, "okay."

It takes more than just a few minutes for Sakura to doze off. But you tuck her in gently when she does, rearranging the blankets around her frame before slowly backing out of the room. You find Kuroo still at the kitchen sink with your supposed apron around his waist, and the sight of him -- so domestic, like he's been living here all along -- makes you want to cry all over again.

"She's asleep?" Kuroo's voice causes your shoulders to jump. You nod and walk over to where he stands, taking note of the amount of dishes left.

"Thank you," you gesture towards the squeaky clean plates hanging off to dry, "it's all good now, I'll take over--"

Kuroo throws you a look and tuts, "sit down. I'm gonna make us some tea."

"But--"

"Kosuke-san," the dip between his brows deepen, "go sit down."

It's non-arguable and you let out a soft sigh of defeat as you pad over to the couch, grumbling something incoherent under your breath. Does he have to be so perfect at everything? It's almost like living in a fairytale dream.

Or is he just being nice because he wants something out of you?

A shudder suddenly makes its way up your spine and you shake your head, ridding yourself of all negative thoughts. No, he won't do that, your brain chides, he's not like that.

He's not like Aoi.

"Here."

You look up to find none other than the said man settling down beside you, nudging a cup of what seems to be hot water into your hands.

"Sorry," he mumbles, "I couldn't quite find your tea. Your place is a bit like a labyrinth."

"Yeah that's what happens when you have a toddler," you grimace, "but thank you. I do appreciate--" you hesitate, a small smile flickering across your lips, "hot water."

Kuroo chuckles, "right? It was made with love."

You sip on your hot water as a comfortable silence settles over you, with only the hum of the fridge and distant cars from afar filling the room. The weight of all your troubles are finally getting to you, making your body sluggish as it succumbs to the comforts of your pillows.

"Kuroo sensei," you bite down onto your lower lip, before your eyes flutter up to his face to find that he's already been looking at you, "I--"

"It's Kuroo," he interrupts, "we're friends, right?"

You try to bite back your smile, "yeah. I suppose," your head dips back down to your lap, "I just--I wanted to say thank you. For everything. But...especially for today."

"Kosuke-san, I think it's fair enough to say that you were having a hard time," Kuroo answered, "I just did what I thought was right. And--also, not to be that person, but he didn't have to do it in front of his daughter."

"Yeah you're right," you sigh, "well, that's Aoi for you. Selfish, self-centred, always wants what's best for himself."

There's a moment for the words to digest in the air. You sip on your hot drink, not wanting to meet Kuroo's eyes for fear of what you'll find there.

If you had any doubts about Kuroo questioning his interest for you, that had to be long gone by now. Nobody in the world wanted someone who already had baggage, and a physical baggage that would forever be a reminder of your past.

The truth hurts. It punches you straight in the gut.

You suck in a sharp breath, loathing yourself for even thinking about it. For even entertaining the idea.

But then, Kuroo asks you a question. One that instantly breaks down your walls no matter how much you fight it.

"Are you alright?"

You can't help it.

You break.

It's as if all tears once bottled up are suddenly let loose. Pressing your hands up to your face to muffle your cries, you feel Kuroo's arms wound around you again, pulling you insistently to his chest despite your best tries at resisting. But he's warm and for once in your life you don't feel like fighting, which is how you find yourself sobbing into his shirt, hands gripping it tight like he might disappear at any given moment.

All that time, Kuroo merely lets you cry, one hand smoothing over the back of your head while he presses his cheek against your temple.

"Shh," he keeps murmuring into the shell of your ear, "it's okay. It's going to be okay."

Some time later finds you in his arms, practically cuddled up to his chest and your cries reduced to mere sniffles. Kuroo has leaned back onto the couch so that you're resting against him, soft curves pressed to his firm ridges and hands absentmindedly running through your hair in a way that makes your eyes flutter with the heaviness of sleep.

It's comfortable. Too comfortable you might just fall asleep here.

Kuroo dares to peek at your face, noticing that you're staring off into space.

Your phone suddenly buzzes from your pocket, startling you out of whatever daydream you'd concocted. Quickly fishing it out of your pant pocket, you unlock the screen only to find Atsumu's message.

Atsumu: I suppose you're with Mr. Hotshot? Any chance of getting laid tonight? ;)

Your face colours right when you feel Kuroo's chest vibrate with a laugh.

You quickly whip the phone away from his view, "y--you're not supposed to read other people's texts!"

Your heart is practically cartwheeling at this point and you swear you feel sweat dot your hairline as Kuroo throws his head back with even more laughter.

You scowl at him, "what's so funny?!"

"Nothing, oh--god, nothing at all," he can't seem to control himself, shaking his head with a grin so wide it makes the sight adorable for some unknown godforsaken reason. He runs a hand over his face, trying and failing to calm down, "I just--oh man Atsumu. Do tell me more."

"Like I said, it's rude to read other people's texts," you snap.

"Oh I'm sorry, you opened it in front of my face though," Kuroo's grin is so wide that it frustrates you to no end. But before you can shove him away, his hold tightens as he pins you closer.

Your eyes widen, fluttering up to meet his golden brown pupils in surprise. He's warm, and firm, and just about as delicious as you had imagined. It makes your stomach knot, makes you slightly dizzy as you get a whiff of his deodorant--something musky, something that smells just like him.

When he speaks next, his voice has dropped two octaves.

"So how long were you going to keep it a secret from me?"

His murmur sends a chill up your spine. Your hands, not knowing what should be done with them, curl along his shirt.

Your eyes find a blank spot in the middle of his chest, "it's...not a secret. It's just a--a joke. Of some sort."

"A joke?" his smirk widens, "well share it with me too."

"It's none of your business."

"Pretty sure you made it my business by opening it in front of me."

Oh god. You can't even stop your heart from beating so loudly it's like a hummingbird. You're pretty certain Kuroo can hear it. "I--uhm--"

Your brain tries to scramble for words. But it's impossible. Not when he's so close. Definitely not when he's looking at you like that. With those eyes.

"Something tells me you've been holding out on me."

"Not at all."

You're still very adamant on averting your eyes. But his hand finds your chin, tilting it up until you have no choice but to look straight into those beautiful swirls of golden shimmering with amusement and what seems to be -- tenderness? Affection?

"Tell me," his murmur is raw, throaty. Like warm, melted chocolate.

You take a soft breath. Your chest constricts. It's impossible to breathe.

"Atsumu," you start in a shaky whisper, "he thinks--" you swallow, "he thinks that we might have... a--a thing."

"A thing?" his arm laced around your middle tightens slightly, "what makes him think we might have a thing?"

"Well I don't know, I--' god, is this supposed to be this hard? To admit that you have a small crush? You suck in air in-between your teeth as you bite the inside of your cheek, turn your head away, "I guess I talk a lot about you."

He hums in reply, "I like the sound of that."

And with another tug at your chin your eyes have no choice but to lock on his. There's a softness there in those beautiful pupils flecked with long, drawn out eyelashes.

""The sound of what?" you blink.

"Us having a thing," Kuroo's hand seems to find it fun to caress up and down your hipbone. His touch is searingly warm against your skin, "you talking about me, you blushing because of it."

"Well don't be so full of yourself," You huff out, "you're a good friend, and I'm grateful--"

"Y/N."

Woah.

You've never imagined the sound of your name falling from his lips. But here it is, laced with some kind of attentiveness, with some sort of affection that makes you weak at the knees and causes warmth to drip to your lower belly.

Your lips part. But you find you can't seem to formulate words. He continues, "I like you, not just as a friend. I think you're brave, incredibly kind, smart--"

"What are you doing?"

"Huh?" Kuroo frowns, "I--What does it look like I'm doing?"

"I don't know," you're starting to panic, pulling away slightly in the process, "that's what I'm asking you."

"Well I--" a small chuckle echoes past his lips, "I guess what I'm trying to do is ask you out."

"Oh." the words take a few seconds to register in your brain.

Oh.

"Oh." you repeat like an idiot. Oh shit.

He's actually serious.

Oh shit.

Oh fuck.

"Uhm--" your throat has suddenly gone so dry that nothing seems to come out of It no matter how hard you try.

Kuroo just lets out a small laugh before his hand goes up to push a few stray hairs out of your face, "cat got your tongue?"

"Kuroo-sens--I mean, Kuroo--" you try to stutter out through the butterflies rippling through your chest at his gentle action, "It's not that simple, I--I have a daughter. It's a responsibility. A liability. And I'm no casual dater, I'm more of a long-term relationship type of girl."

"And?"

"And there's absolutely no reason for you to like me other than as a friend, because I have baggage. I'm not a single woman, I'm on the brink of a divorce and I have a four--almost five year old -- always running around," you realise you're babbling but it's impossible not to, especially not with him looking at you like that, "trust me, that's probably the last thing you want--"

"When I say I like you," Kuroo murmurs, "I mean all of you. And that includes Sakura."

"You don't mean that, until you actually experience--"

"I do mean it."

You shake your head, "Kuroo I--"

"Can I just take you out?" There's a slight note of desperation in his tone. In a smooth motion, the hand twined around your waist slips up to your hand, thumb drawing soft circles over your wrists as his eyes pin you down with an intensity that makes you want to squirm, "just one date. That's all I ask."

Your immediate response is no. Because why would you? You're literally just getting out of a relationship. The last thing that you want is another of these holes that you'll take months to recover from. And what if Kuroo decides you're not what he wants after all? He's younger than you, dashingly handsome, and can get whoever he wants in this entire world.

So why you?

But as soon as you open your mouth to tell him no, your thoughts fly back to this afternoon; the way he'd cared for Sakura when you were having a mental breakdown, the way he'd cradled you in his arms like you were fragile porcelain, the way he hadn't hesitated the moment you'd asked for help.

Even back then, Aoi hadn't taken charge this way. Aoi hadn't even bothered. And so you'd gotten used to not asking. To do things all by yourself.

Looking back into those golden-hued eyes makes you hopeful. And that's the worst thing that can happen to you, hope. But still, it's impossible to say no when Kuroo's gazing down at you so fondly. Like you're the only thing holding his world together. like he'd do anything to be with you.

So you say yes.

[lokis-army-77]

Premium Air

mondern!Eddie Munson x fem reader

Word Count: 1.1k

It's a few days after April Foos, Eddie isn't expecting you to pull a koke but you have something up your sleve.

Warning: noting! unless you count cursing

Thank you to my beta readers @munson-blurbs and @lofaewrites

Masterlist

You loved seeing the harmless little pranks that people would play on their significant others on social media and with April first already behind you, you knew Eddie wouldn’t suspect a thing. 

It was a bright Wednesday afternoon, you were at Robin's for a much needed girls day when you decided to put your little prank into action. 

"Hey, Rob, you wanna watch as I give Eddie a mini heart attack?" You ask as you wiggle into a more comfortable position on her couch.

"Oh my god, yes!" She excitedly shuffles over to you, leaning her whole body over your right side. 

You're both a giggling mess when you send the first text message. 

Hey, so my tire pressure light just came on, do I need to go have it checked?

It takes a few minutes but he eventually responds.

Is it still driving alright? 

Bring it to the shop when you get home from Robs, I'll fill it up before I leave work.

Yeah, it's driving just fine. The screen says it's my front passenger side tire.

You'll be fine to drive back home, I'll fill it up then, baby.

You leave it be for around thirty minutes as you and Robin think of what you should say next.

So Robin said I should go get it checked out and we were worried I wouldn't be able to drive all the way to your shop so I came to the one by her house.

I didn't know air was so expensive 😫. 

It was no more than a second later that your phone started to ring in your hands. Eddie's contact photo lighting up the screen. You swiped it away and you could feel Robin beginning to silently laugh 

Sweetheart, answer the phone.

Another call that you decline.

What do you mean expensive? Answer your phone!!!

Don't worry, Eds, the guy gave me a good deal! I think it's bc he thought I was pretty.

What do you mean by a good deal? Sweetheart, how much did you pay?

You and Robin can hardly contain your laughter. Tears are running down your faces. 

"I feel so bad, but it's so funny!" You cry. 

Robin nods along, "Don't, it's totally hilarious." She wipes her tears away and points at your phone, "Don't acknowledge those questions yet, say something about how he didn't notice the pretty comment."

You get to typing, fingers gliding over the keyboard.

Wow, I would have thought you'd be upset at another man...

Baby ,that is the last thing I'm worried about. HOW. MUCH. DID. YOU. PAY.

Well he said it was like premium air so it was on the more expensive end but apparently it won't seep out as fast as regular air.

You can see the read receipt and the three little dots as he begins to type. Your heart is beating wildly in your chest as the typing stops and he calls you again only for you to ignore it once more. 

Robin is beside you, howling as she holds her stomach. "This is the best thing I have EVER witnessed in my life!"

PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY, ANSWER YOUR PHONE. HOW MUCH DID YOU SPEND? BECAUSE PREMIUM AIR ISN'T REAL

So the guy said it's usually 250 for all 4 but he said he'd give me a deal and give me all 4 for the price of 3... is that not how much it usually is?

You need to tell me what shop you're at. Are you still there? Put me on the phone with this fucking guy

Eddie, I'm not putting you on the phone with him.

Sweetheart, why in the world would you take your car to someone else??? I'm literally a mechanic. IT WOULD HAVE BEEN FREE!! 

Are you mad at me?

No, I'm not mad at you baby. I just need you to put me on the phone with the shop owner or someone, anyone. Air in all 4 tires is never gonna be over like 5 bucks...

I told you I'd take care of it, why didn't you just listen 

You almost double over, laughing harder than before. You could tell you were stressing him out, that he was trying to keep from freaking out. 

"Oh my god!" You cackle, "I think it's time to break it to him or else he might actually have a heart attack or maybe an aneurysm. 

Eddie calls you one last time and this time, you answer, sushing Robin as you press the speaker button. 

"Thank fuck, Sweetheart, put me on the phone with the asshole that scared you." His face was gruff, the growl of irritation bringing a shiver lust down your spine. 

"Eddie, baby, calm down." 

"I'll calm down when I get you your money back," he huffs. You can hear the sounds of his shop muffled through the speaker. 

You can't help the giggle that slips past your lips when you make eye contact with Robin. 

"This is not funny," he stresses. 

The giggles continue to bubble up, "I know I know, but I can't help it. I love you so much."

"I love you too, now please let me talk to the guy, I really don't wanna ask again." 

Robin takes your phone at that point, clearing her throat and proceeding to do her best impression of a blue collar man.

"Hey, this is Rodger, at you just got pranked garage, how can I help you?"

"Yeah, you can help me, I-" Eddie stops mid sentence. 

You've got your hand covering your mouth as you try, and fail, to cover your chortles.

"Wait a second... Robin?" All the building anger in his voice disappears as he slowly realizes what's happening.

Robin begins wheezing as you grab your phone back, "We got you!" You gleefully exclam into the phone.

"We got you good!" Robing teeters back on her legs, almost falling from the couch.

You can hear the shaky sigh of relief fron the receiver on the other end. "Thank God. Baby you had me going crazy over here. I was about to drive to every garage in town to find you."

"I'm so so so sorry, baby. I really am but we didn't do anything for April fools like we usually do and I just knew you wouldn't be expecting this."

Eddie lets out the longest sigh of relief you've ever heard. "Shit, sweetheart, I'm getting too old for these pranks."

"You're 35." You deadpan.

"And it's all down hill from here."

You can't see it but you know he has a shit eating grin on and you roll your eyes. "I'll make it up to you when I get home."

"You better."

[gloomwitchwrites]

You send him a text "Thanks for the flowers, babe" attached with a photo of a bouquet as a prank. Obvs, he gets jealous/possessive.

Anon, I love this. I cackled the first time I read it, and I've been wanting to get to it for a while. There are so many requests (and I will get to them all), but with my health being shit, I'm trying to select from the pool where I'm not overworking my brain or stressing myself out trying to come up with something. This prompt came very naturally to me.

These are all spicy. Period. I didn't hold back with this one. Maybe I'm ovulating or some shit but I literally couldn't write anything but smut for this prompt. I had a lot of fun with this one, and I hope you enjoy.

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: swearing, dirty talk, praise, spanking, oral sex (female & male receiving), face fucking, restraints, vaginal fingering, unprotected piv (wrap it up irl), creampie, jealousy, possessive behavior, orgasm control

Word Count: 4.4k

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ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon’s phone buzzes in his pocket. He ignores it, attention stuck on Price who stands in front of a large map of Europe.

There are pictures—some have a red “X” through them while a couple others have black question marks. The mission isn’t done, but that isn’t surprising. This has taken months to complete. It’s been slow, and entirely too complicated for Simon’s liking.

His phone buzzes again, the vibration pulling his attention away.

When the third buzz comes in, his agitation turns to worry. Simon never allows messages to come through at work unless it’s from very specific people. To have three come through in less than two minutes stirs something in his gut.

Price starts talking again but Simon’s brain is melting. He reaches into his pocket and fishes out his phone. Keeping it next to his thigh, Simon awakens the screen.

Your name is there and 3 new messages.

Simon glances up, but no one is looking at him. Silently, he unlocks the phone and clicks over to his messages, tapping on your name.

At first, Simon doesn’t understand. His brain short-circuits, and then unbridled jealousy comes roaring forward.

The first message is a photo of a beautiful bouquet sitting on the kitchen island. It’s fucking large, taking up most of the space. The flowers are different shades of pink, yellow, and orange. It looks like spring.

Beneath the picture are two texts.

Thanks for the flowers!!

I love you!

But Simon did not get you flowers. He didn’t order these, and he certainly didn’t have them delivered to the flat.

Fuck. What the actual fuck.

Someone else did this.

Simon’s first thought is that Johnny did it to prank him. But Johnny has been a bit subdued today, and his attention isn’t on Simon at all.

No. It’s likely not him.

Simon locks his phone and stews. He can’t just leave this meeting. It’s important, but he’s going to get to the fucking bottom of it.

By the time Price dismisses them, Simon is already out the door, charging toward his locker to grab his stuff. It usually takes him a half hour to arrive home, but today he does it in twenty. When Simon bursts through the front door, he’s ready to toss those flowers right off the balcony.

But then he sees your face—how happy you are—and Simon melts. You throw yourself into his arms, and Simon instinctually responds, embracing you tightly. He presses his face into your hair and inhales.

“Missed you,” you say, grabbing both sides of his face and kissing him. “Thank you for the flowers.”

I didn’t get you any flowers.

Simon smiles because it’s all he can manage. That jealousy from earlier starts to curl back up, twisting around in his ribcage.

“Did you like the note?”

You frown. “What note?”

The way you ask is…odd. It’s far too innocent in the presentation. Simon knows your cues and this seems forced to him. But the sender didn’t leave a message. That doesn’t give Simon much to go on if he’s going to track down who sent them.

“Maybe they forgot,” he replies, kissing your forehead. “Show them to me.”

With a bright smile, you take his hand, guiding him into the kitchen. They’re much more stunning in person and Simon momentarily freezes. Did he forget your birthday? An anniversary? An important event?

Simon recalls nothing for today’s date.

The jealousy rises again but he clamps down on it. Anyone could have sent this, especially a friend of yours or a family member. Doesn’t mean there is someone out there with predatory intentions. And for all Simon knows, you’re having a laugh, riling me up. You’ve done it before.

“They’re lovely,” observes Simon. “Better than the picture.”

Your grin is gorgeous, a thing Simon wants to bottle up. You open your mouth to answer him but the dryer goes off. “Hold on,” you call over your shoulder as you dash away. “Let me change over the loads.”

When you disappear, Simon goes for the bouquet. He quickly checks through every flower and between the stems, even sticks his fingers in the dirt. Simon doesn’t know what the fuck he’s looking for, but he’s grasping for anything.

The only thing of note is the business card which Simon quickly plucks from its holder and tucks into his pocket. Simon steps away from the bouquet when you appear again.

Jealousy is stewing, showing its fangs, curling tighter around Simon’s ribs.

When you reach for him, Simon sweeps you off your feet, planting you on the kitchen island. You giggle, but Simon cuts it off, drawing you to the edge to seize your lips in a fierce kiss.

That jealous viper between his bones tells him to possess you.

Simon’s hands drop to your waist and then your hips. He settles himself between your legs, hands moving down to your bare thighs.

You’re flushed with embarrassment, attempting to hide your face from him, giggling his name as you fist his shirt.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” rasps Simon.

Your lips part and Simon slides his tongue inside. You moan, suck on his tongue, and release him. Simon’s grip on your thighs tightens.

“All day?” you ask softly.

Moving his hands to beneath your thighs, Simon tugs you into his arms and carries you over to the dining room table, but doesn’t place you on top of it. He brings you to your feet, and then his fingers curl around the shorts that are little more than underwear.

“Take these off.”

“Simon—”

“Do it,” he growls, releasing them and bringing his hand back to his side.

Slowly, you do as he says. You bring them up so that Simon can see them before tossing them to the side. That viper in him hisses, the venom leaking into his system.

Simon slides his hand between your thighs. You lean back against the table, hands resting on the edge as you part your legs. What his fingers find only makes him groan.

Withdrawing, Simon licks his fingers clean. “Turn around. Bend over the table. Show me what I want.” With a smirk on your lips, you face the table, and bend forward, going up on your toes.

Fuck the flowers and whoever sent them. You’re his.

Simon unbuckles the front of his belt, undoes the zipper of his pants, and frees his aching cock. He needs to be inside you, to hear you say his name, to feel you come around him. He needs to possess because it’s the only thing he can do right now.

Guiding with his hand, Simon rubs the head of his cock through your slickness. You’re already so wet for him—so fucking needy, and he’ll devour it all. Give you exactly what you want while taking something for him.

As he starts to slide in, you whimper. Reaching back, your hand grabs your ass, opening yourself a bit wider for him.

Bloody hell.

Simon doesn’t want to go slow. Using his grip on your hip, he slides all the way in, making you take him to the hilt with one forward thrust of his hips.

Your gasp is choked, and then Simon is lost, pounding into you as if this is the last time he’ll ever fuck you. It’s only your tightness, your breathy moans of pleasure, and the desperate why you say his name. It wraps around him, satiates the viper, calms the rising jealousy until it’s only you Simon can focus on.

Through the haze, Simon finds your clit, plays with it, slows his thrusts until your orgasm arrives, squeezing him so tight he almost finishes right then and there. But once that wave crests and crashes, Simon is back at it. Planting both hands on the table on either side of your waist, Simon stutters out, his lower back tensing, everything draw up.

Simon’s orgasm is an unraveling. All the tension melts as he finishes, and even then, he continues to thrust, pushing his cum deeper inside you. His chest heaves, body shuddering as he draws back a bit. Your breathing is just as labored.

Easing out of your body, Simon admires the bloom of cum at your entrance. He presses it back inside before helping you unbend from the table. Turning you around to face him, Simon claims your mouth in a deep kiss, his grasping the back of your head.

You form to him, and Simon’s hunger flares.

“To bed,” he says, drawing you away with a tug on your hair.

“To sleep?” you ask, smirking.

Maybe you did all this. Planned it all from the beginning.

Naughty girl.

Simon shakes his head. “Not yet.”

He releases you, and then smacks your ass for good measure. Squeaking, you scurry away toward the bedroom. Simon stands there for a moment, composing himself. Reaching into his pocket, he withdraws the business card. There is an address and a phone number.

Glancing over his shoulder at the bouquet, Simon comes to a decision. Stalking toward his duffle, Simon secures the business card in a side pocket. He’ll deal with this at work.

Right now, you’re getting undressed.

And Simon is much more interested in that.

Flowers can wait.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

You send the final text and lock your phone, leaving it on the coffee table.

It’s just a little prank. A tease.

Kyle is always a gentleman even when he makes your toes curl and pulls unseemly sounds from between your lips. But riling him up can be just as fun. Kyle isn’t one to be jealous or even possessive of you. He’s certainly protective, and his presence always makes you feel safe, but you’re aching for something else right now.

The flowers weren’t all that expensive. And they are pretty.

Your phone buzzes. You ignore it.

It buzzes again.

When you check the screen, you see two new texts from Kyle. You stare at it, and set it back down. You’re going to let him stew and question. If anything, Kyle might think the flowers innocent.

Tapping your fingers against your knee, impatience stirring in your belly, you stare out the patio door. You need to distract yourself, but the urge to look is too strong. Snatching the phone back up, you glance at the messages.

That’s sweet, love.

But I didn’t get you flowers.

Honesty. This man is terrible at lying or hiding his feelings.

You tap out a reply.

Of course you did! Loved the note you left with it!

Kyle’s reply is instant.

Note?

You nearly cackle at the ceiling and when you hit send.

I want you tonight. You know you can have me whenever lol. No need to send flowers about it.

Within seconds of you hitting send, you phone starts to vibrate. Yelping, you nearly drop the thing. Kyle’s name and a photo of him at the beach pop up on your screen. You stare at it, allowing it to go to voicemail. He calls again immediately.

You launch off the couch, pacing as the phone falls back into voicemail. It’s a bit thrilling knowing that Kyle is likely worked up on the other end.

Answer the phone, comes Kyle’s next text, and then, I’m coming home.

Oh shit.

You are all nervous excitement waiting for him. And when he does come barreling through the door, you’re a bit shocked at the sight of him.

Slowly, he shuts the front door, striding into the kitchen where the bouquet is. He stares at it for a long moment before turning his gaze on you.

“Kyle,” you say brightly, walking toward him.

He holds up a finger and walks past you. You hear the opening and shutting of doors, of drawers being opened, and items moving around. Kyle returns, hands on his hips, concern on his features.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

“I didn’t send you those flowers.”

“Didn’t you?” you reply, innocently, moving toward them.

Kyle shoots forward and begins digging through the stems. “Where is that bloody card?” he mutters.

There is no card. No note. You made it all up.

“Kyle,” you say, but he ignores you.

“Un-fucking-believable,” he says, ripping opening the plastic to see inside.

“Kyle,” you repeat, adding a bit of volume behind your voice.

Again, he ignores you, scattering the flowers across the countertop.

“When I find the fucking wanker that—”

“Kyle!”

He turns, eyes a bit wild. Kyle looks ridiculous, and you suddenly feel terrible. You reach for him, placing both hands on either side of his face. “There’s no note.”

Kyle blinks like he didn’t hear you correctly. “What?”

“There’s no note,” you repeat. “I bought the flo—”

Kyle groans loudly and places his entire hand over your face, muffling the last few words. “Bloody hell, baby girl.” He lightly pushes off, dropping his hand, and stepping back.

You grin sheepishly as Kyle crosses his arms over his chest.

“What was the goal?” he asks, leaning forward a bit.

You shrug your shoulders. “To rile you up?”

Kyle laughs, short and clipped. “Rile me up?”

“Yes,” you say slowly.

He leans in a bit more, a smirk on his face. “And what do you think was going to happen once you riled me up?”

You know that Kyle already knows the answer to this question. But he’s indulging you. As he always does.

“I didn’t think that far,” you reply, but it’s far from the truth.

You wanted to rile him up so that he’d come home and fuck you like a man possessed.

Kyle bites down on his bottom lip and you track the movement. “No, love. You did.” He straightens. “And I know what you want.”

Kyle steps into your space, his head dipping as if to kiss you but pausing just before. “You need a good throat fucking. I need an apology. And then I can give you what you want.”

“Kyle,” you breathe.

“On your knees, love. Present your mouth.”

You obediently drop to your knees, and part your lips.

“Wider,” he almost growls.

You do so just as Kyle reaches down and undoes the front of his belt. He doesn’t even look. Doesn’t flinch. The belt is gone and the front of his pants are open by the time Kyle grabs your face and brings you close.

“Tongue out.”

You do so, and Kyle taps the head of his cock against it before sliding it back and forth over your tongue. His hold shifts, falling to the nape of your neck.

“Take it like a good girl. Got it?”

You nod, and Kyle draws you forward, forcing you to take all of him. Holding you in place for a few seconds, Kyle only eases you back once your gag reflex kicks in. Kyle adjusts his stance, and your hands grasp the sides of his thighs.

Kyle’s hand on the back of your neck tightens as his other hand tangles in your hair. Keeping you in place, he starts to thrust, fucking your mouth like he would your pussy. All you can do is cling to him, to hold on as he grunts above you.

There isn’t any anger there, just a stern brow and a need for control. It’s delicious. Entirely mouth-watering. Your core warms, a slickness blooming, indicating just how much this turns you on.

To bring Kyle toward his end, you make little sounds in your throat. It makes him stutter. It makes him moan. Beneath his pants, you feel the muscles in his legs tighten. And then he’s forcing you down his length, throating him entirely as he comes down your throat.

Breathing through you nose is the only thing holding you together. And when he slides you off, you cough, wiping at your lips.

Kyle’s hand caresses your cheek, drawing your gaze to him. He arches a single eyebrow.

“I’m sorry,” you say.

Reaching out, Kyle draws you up to your feet, bringing you close. His smile is soft, and when he comes in for a kiss, it is consuming.

“Now that you’ve riled me up,” he murmurs against your lips. “I’ll give you what you want.”

Kyle pulls away, his thumb pressing on your bottom lip.

“Take off your clothes. Kneel on the bed. And bend over. Got it?”

You nod, and Kyle drops his hand.

“That’s my good girl.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

Johnny’s ears are ringing.

“You better be bloody joking,” he growls at his phone.

On the screen is a beautiful bouquet of flowers. Flowers that you’re thanking him for. Flowers that he didn’t send.

And the card? Bloody fucking hell. That card is going in the shredder. Johnny will tear it apart with his own teeth if he has to. Some fucker had the bright idea to send you flowers like he’s the one you’re dating.

No. Fuck that.

Johnny might be the demolitions expert, but he knows Ghost could dig around for him if he asked. Scratch that. Johnny is asking right fucking now.

“Hey, Lt!” Johnny jogs over to Ghost and turns his phone around. “Can you trace who sent these flowers?”

Ghost’s expression behind the balaclava remains flat. “It’s a fucking photo, Johnny.”

Cursing under his breath, Johnny forwards the image to Ghost. Ghost checks his phone, enlarging the image.

He grunts. “Should be easy.” Ghost glances up from the screen. “Why?”

“Someone making a move on my woman,” replies Johnny, holding back a growl.

“Done,” says Ghost. “Give me a couple hours.”

It doesn’t take Ghost long, and Johnny has to laugh out loud.

“You fucking naughty thing,” mutters Johnny as he unlocks the door to your flat.

When he enters, you’re nearly on your toes, eager for him. It’s cute, but you need to learn first. Sure, the prank is harmless, but you were wanting a rise out of him.

Punishment is needed.

“Johnny,” you say brightly, coming around the counter to greet him.

As you arms reach for him, Johnny removes his belt. Your gaze drops, but he is faster than you. Johnny has the belt around your wrists and secured before you can even protest.

“What are you doing?” you ask breathlessly.

“Thought I wouldn’t find out?” Johnny tuts. He yanks you forward, bringing the two of you almost face-to-face. “Bought those flowers yourself.”

Johnny tugs on the belt again. You stumble into him and he spins you around. With another quick tug, Johnny has the belt looped onto one of the coat hooks embedded in the wall.

Reaching down, Johnny palms your ass, his lips pressed to your ear. “Got me all jealous at work. Had Ghost stalking the flower shop and everything.” He squeezes, and then smacks your ass. Hard.

You whimper. “Johnny. I’m sorry.”

“No apologies, love.” He kisses your throat. Your skin is soft and he inhales, savoring your scent. You’re freshly showered, and the smell of your shampoo invades his nostrils.

It doesn’t take much to rid you of your underwear. It’s just you in an old shirt and your bare ass on full display. Johnny slides his hands between you clenched thighs.

“Spread them.”

You do so obediently and a primal part of him simmers with pleasure. Johnny slowly drops to his knees behind you. He savors the view, taking his time to enjoy the sight before him. Even from here, Johnny can see how slick you are. How wanton.

He’s going to devour you. Make you beg. Deny you what it is you most want until you’re a fucking mess for him. That’s punishment enough.

Johnny tests by running one finger over your pussy. It comes back glossy. He pops it into his mouth, groaning at your taste.

“Want me to eat this pretty pussy?” asks Johnny, running his finger over you again.

You nod frantically. “Yes. Please.”

That’s a start.

Johnny leans in, the tip of his tongue playing with your entrance. He traces it with his tongue before slipping inside, slowly fucking you with it. It’s not enough, but Johnny knows this. He needs to suck on your clit and give you his fingers to make you come.

But even then, you’ll have to wait.

You’ll have to beg.

Johnny trails upward, swirling his tongue, finding your clit. He teases it. Flicks it back and forth in a steady stroke. You’re already growing wetter. You’re already moaning above him. Too bad you don’t know what’s coming.

Johnny slides one finger inside of you, pumping twice before inserting a second. You’re tight around him. He can feel the stretch.

He works you slowly, lightly thrusting his fingers in and out of your pussy as he teases your clit with his tongue. Above him, your moans come unbroken and loud. It’s sweet. He loves the sound. But Johnny knows your tells, and when your muscles begin to clench and unclench quickly, he ceases all movement.

“What the fuck,” you gasp, glancing down.

Johnny chuckles. “You have to earn it love.”

“Johnny, please,” you beg.

“What’s that, love? Didn’t hear you?”

“Please,” you say, drawing it out.

“Please what?” he prompts.

“I want to come,” you murmur.

Johnny smirks and starts fucking you with his fingers again, but doesn’t put his mouth back on your clit. It’s not enough for you. You’re squirming. Wiggling. Needing more.

“You pull another stunt like this again, love, and this,” Johnny smacks your ass with a sharp thwack, “will be red.”

“I’m sorry, Johnny. Please. Just—please.”

Johnny teases your clit with a quick swipe of his tongue. “Beg some more.”

You do. All sorts of obscene things fall from your lips. When tears form in the corner of your eyes, Johnny finally gives you relief.

He fucks your gorgeous pussy with his fingers. He tastes and teases until you’re crying out, clamping around him as you come undone.

Johnny withdraws. Straightens.

You’re still hanging on the hook.

He frees you from it, but does not remove the belt from around your wrists. Johnny presses you against him with a flat palm upon your stomach.

“Don’t do that again,” he murmurs.

“I won’t.”

Johnny kisses your throat. “To bed.”

You frown, holding up your bound hands. “But the belt.”

“Stays on,” he says, fisting the tangling leather. “Until I’m done with you.”

John Price

John isn’t one for texting.

You’ll send him a barrage of texts only for him to call you hours later asking what you were texting him about.

Which is why you didn’t think this plan would work.

But then it did, and now you’re bent over John’s lap, bare ass in the air.

John told you that he was working late to catch up on paperwork. Whenever that happens, he always gives you a call to check-in and hear your voice. It’s routine at this point. A comfort. Most of the time, he just wants you on the other side, to have you talk about the day or whatever you want while he’s working. John will usually remain silent, listening, basking in your voice.

You planned it perfectly, knowing that he’d check his phone before giving you a call. You sent the photo of the flowers. A beautiful display really. And they were on sale. You also sent him a picture of the makeshift “note” that you made for it. All it said was “thinking of you” with no name. All of that was follow up by a “thank you” and promises to please him later.

John was calm when he called you—almost eerily so. When you thanked him from the flowers, he didn’t reply. He simply pushed past it. The thing is, John saved all of that energy up for when he came home.

Your ass stings. John rubs the spot he just smacked before squeezing.

“Now, love. Tell me the truth.” He says it so sweetly, like it’s such a simple thing.

And you don’t know how much longer you’ll last under this barrage.

“You bought them for me,” you whimper, keeping up the façade.

John shakes his head. “We both know that’s not true.” He squeezes your ass again, the sting burning slightly when he let’s go.

“I’d guess you’re seeing someone else but that would be lie. Wouldn’t it?”

He punctuates this statement by slipping his hand between your thighs, his fingers running over your pussy, parting your slickness. John dips one finger inside and then another, only to retreat and grab your ass cheek with the same hand.

“I know just how to make you wet, love. You have no one else to run to.”

“I told you—Fuck! John!” You jolt in his lap as his palm comes down on your already throbbing cheek.

“Be honest, love. Or you’ll get a few more.”

You swallow down your pride. You wanted him riled up, but you weren’t expecting this. Not for John to come home, strip you down, and bend you over his lap.

“I bought them,” you grumble.

John’s hand eases. “You what?”

“I bought them,” you snap.

“I knew you did.”

Before you have the chance to form a retort, John guides you up and into his lap. He grabs the front of your throat, bringing you close to him. He does not kiss you. He simply hovers.

“You’re going to straddle my lap and bounce on my cock until I fill you up. You understand?”

You nod, and Price let’s go of your throat.

“Get to it,” he purrs.

John is fully clothed, and you’re wearing nothing at all. You undo the clasp of his belt, pull the zipper, and he flexes his hips enough that you can work his pants down a bit. When his hard length is free to you, you straddle him, lining yourself up.

He remains impassive as you start to sink down. The stretch is perfect—as it always is, and you groan as you seat yourself entirely on his cock. Gripping his shoulders, you roll up and back down, rocking when you can to give your legs a break.

John still stays quiet but his gaze is assessing. Slowly, his hand comes around your neck again, and this time he squeezes slightly. It’s not to hurt. It’s to dominate and possess.

“Who do you belong to, love?” he asks.

“You,” you murmur, sinking down on him.

“Say it again,” repeats John.

“I belong to you,” you gasp, coming up and then back down.

“Again,” and this time there’s a growl in his tone.

“I’m yours, John.”

“Fucking right,” he says, crashing his mouth to yours.

The kiss is a claiming, one that shoots through your body and consumes your limbs and control. You shudder, pussy clenching, and then John is fucking up into you, his hands on your hips.

You’re no longer in control. It’s just John, and his need to possess.

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[redr0sewrites]

Cuddling with Touya is a must during the winter. He's soo warm

-B3an

🎀A/n: bean. ily. this made me giggle and cackle like a FREAK hes so silly ☹️

🎀Cw: none, just fluff !!!

you are so sosososoos sooooo right !!! Touya is genuinely so cozy to cuddle with, for a multitude of reasons. i headcanon that his hands and limbs are always really cold, but his chest is really warm, so the best way to warm up is to snuggle close. he also loves putting his cold hands under your shirt to warm them up, and just ends up pressing himself as close to you as possible

because of this, he's pretty clingy !! even when he isn't intending to, Touya always ends up gravitating towards you in search of both body heat and comfort. he's definitely very touch starved and is unused to gentle affection, so it takes him a while to let his guard down. probably very much against touching you early on in any sort of relationship with you, but overtime becomes more inclined to touch as he trusts you more

i wouldnt say he's self conscious per se, but he's definitely aware that his rough scars and piercings may make him a bit uncomfortable to hold. even if he swears it doesn't bother him, please reassure him that you don't mind :( it definitely eases some of his apprehension about touching you

i also think he's simply not used to non-violent physical touch as a concept. Touya grew up with Endeavor as a father, and i just don't think he received enough affection in his childhood or adulthood to be comfortable with it, so it definitely takes some time to adjust. obviously this transfers over into cuddling, so he has a hard time asking to cuddle at first. he will probably just act indifferent about it but in reality he desperately wants you to ask him to cuddle so he can say yes,,,

Touya is one of those people who will say that they're cold, and then physically be warm if that makes sense. like he could be shivering and whining about how he's literally freezing.... but then you touch him and he's burning up!!! as we know from his childhood, his body supports freezing temperatures, and so he's better at handling being cold than warm, but it still pisses him off because he's CONSTANTLY cold !!!!

likes when you play with his hair, it makes him really sleepy

also ??? expect him to absolutely melt if you kiss his scars or praise him when he's feeling vulnerable enough to cuddle. there aren't many times where you can see behind his facade, at least at first, but this is the quickest way to do so. as previously mentioned, he's horrendously starved for affection, and really enjoys your praise

no matter your size, Touya prefers having you lay on top of him. it both allows you to rest against his chest and for him to hold you close, which is optimal for both of you, especially at first when he's still getting the feel of physical touch. it allows him to be in control and feel secure, while also giving you the affection you need as well.

another pro of getting to lay on his chest is listening to his heart beat. especially if its post war Touya, he knows that listening to his heartbeat and knowing that he's still alive and still here is reassuring to you. this also helps him as he gets nightmares or night terrors a lot, and just listening to your breathing and knowing your safe and staying with him helps calm him down.

this is another personal headcanon, but i think once he trusts you enough, Touya would secretly prefer to be the little spoon rather than the big spoon. he really wants to be held, and like i said, likes when you play with his hair, but most of all... neck kisses. he adores them. you press a sweet little kiss to the back of his neck while cuddling?? boom he's yours forever

he does enjoy holding you though, and i feel like he'd tap your body or rub little messages into your skin subconsciously. maybe i'm just projecting my own neurodivergent stims onto him, but i truly think he's also neurodivergent in some way and would be super touchy in the sense that he'd tap out little patterns on your skin, rub his name onto you as he holds you, stuff like that. most of the time he doesn't even realize, he just needs something to do with his hands. definitely rubs your hand with his thumb while holding hands too,,,

huge fan of pda- Touya wants everyone to know that your together. when your cold in public, he literally just slides a hand under your shirt or skirt or anything he can reach, and warms you up with his quirk. to onlookers it looks more risqué then it actually is, but that's the best part in his eyes

Touya isnt a very deep sleeper, he has nightmares and night terrors a lot and overall it takes him a while to fall asleep. when it's chilly out this is especially amplified as he CANNOT sleep when its cold, so he loves sleeping and cuddling with you because A) it warms him up and B) it soothes his anxieties

overall, Touya both loves and hates when your cold. he hates it because he can't stand when your uncomfortable,,, but also loves it because it means he gets to cuddle with you !!!

"why are you so far away?" you grumble, reaching out in search of your lover. Touya lets out a disgruntled whine as an arm snakes around his waist, pulling him up against your body. his tension involuntarily melts as you brush away the small hairs at the base of his neck, before pressing a small kiss to the now exposed skin and watching his ears redden.

"you're so cold... s'too cold. must've pulled away in my sleep. 'sorry babe." he mumbles, and you let out a giggle at his sleepy tone.

"s'ok Touya. y'know, i have to get up soon.."

he immediately perks up, squirming in your grasp until he's facing you, before wrapping is arms around your waist and burying his head in your hair.

"no. it's too cold to even go out."

"Touyaa!"

"stay here. we have to make up for lost time, since i didn't get to lay with you as much.. besides, missing one day of work/school isn't that bad, right?" a scarred hand creeps under your sleep shirt to caress your chilled skin.

"besides," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple as he speaks, "you deserve the rest."

☹️

maybe this is ooc but idc i love him sooo much AND im picturing postwar!Touya so,,,, shh. pls send in more Touya asks. hes so silly.