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yauchfilms · 9 months ago

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anything with logan and being back in florida ? would appreciate!!! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

sunburn ✢ logan sargeant (18+)

pairing: logan sargeant x reader (established relationship)

warnings: smut, porn with plot (lots of exposition sorry i got carried away), one use of y/n, soft dom!logan, switchy!reader, fingering, edging, unprotected p in v, lots of pet names, begging, lots and lots of praise, body part worship if you squint, cursing, logan’s a simp, reader is implied floridian, implied childhood friends to lovers, sunburns, fluffy intimacy

summary: it’s been too long since y/n has been back in the states and she is NOT used to the florida sun like she used to be, but don’t worry, logan knows how to take care of her.

word count: 3.5k

author's note: sorry i got soooo carried away with this i don’t know what came over me. this was NOT supposed to be smut but im just a florida girl crushing on a florida boy here y’all lmao. i’m down so bad for this man that i just went kinda crazy. also this was my first time writing smut so pls bare with me. this is inspired by my friend (and fellow logan girly) who just acquired a nasty sunburn lmaoooo. enjoy!!!!

it had been quite a while since you and logan had been back home together. well, not really, but the weather was typically a lot nicer in the winter months than in the spring and summer, and you were not used to it. after you and logan moved to london together full-time, you rarely saw the sun anymore, and your matching pale complexions certainly reflected that sentiment.

obviously, the miami race weekend was a big deal for the whole sargeant camp. aunts, uncles, cousins, childhood friends, and grandparents would be making their short trip down i-95 to see logan race, but it also meant that you and logan could spend a week together at home, in the sun, in each other’s company. a free vacation of sorts. logan’s parents were busy getting the house ready for the hordes of guests that were to soon occupy the space, so you and logan were more than happy to get out of their hair and into the back yard for some relaxation.

it was sunday, and you found yourself lounging out on the dock, lost in a romance novel that was probably making you lose brain cells, when you heard a familiar voice calling out to you.

“y/n!”, logan yelled from where him and coco were playing on the grass. “have you been applying sunscreen?”

you put your book down, letting out a small huff at his question. logan often took a rather paternal role over you, not in a weird or demeaning way, but rather in the sense that he always has your best interest at heart. and you loved that about him, loved how he always wanted to take care of you without being asked.

you looked down over the chaise longue you were laid out on, thinking there was a bottle of SPF next to your drink, but all that was there was the can of sparkling water you had been nursing.

“don’t have any; i’ll be okay!” you called back, hoping that would be the end of it.

“you want me to bring you some? it’s no problem,” logan replied, positioning himself to get up off the ground.

“don’t worry about it; i’m coming inside soon anyways!” you half-lied, knowing that logan usually respected your wishes when it came to things like that. you knew you weren’t necessarily telling him the truth, but he knew you and your stubbornness, and he knew it was not his business to try to fix it.

another few hours had passed, and logan and the dog had long gone inside to find something else to do. you had stayed out, vowing to finish your book in one sitting. as you closed it, you stood up from the lounger, grabbing your long-abandoned can from the ground, wrapping yourself in the towel that you had been laying on, making your way back into the comfort of the house – and the air conditioning.

walking in through the kitchen, you pass logan’s mom, who was cooking dinner for the family.

“oh sweetie, looks like you got some color on you!” she exclaims, chopping up some vegetables.

“yeah, it’s been a minute since i’ve had time to tan! i missed the florida sunshine too much.”

“well, logan’s in his room, and dinner’s in about an hour if you’d like to freshen up,” mrs. sargeant said sweetly, motioning towards the hallway towards logan’s room.

upon your arrival, logan moved his laptop out of his lap and onto the bed next to him. you took the towel off your shoulders, leaving you in just your bikini, when logan’s eyes went wide with shock.

“what, it’s not like you haven’t seen me in a bikini before?” you quipped, reacting to his sudden change of expression.

“y/n, you are bright red, like ferrari red,” logan replied, serious as a heart attack. you make your way to the vanity over his dresser, taking in your current state. logan was right. you were burnt.

“what the fuck dude, i swear i wasn’t out there that long,” you snapped, poking and prodding yourself in the mirror, letting out a wince when you stumbled over a particularly sensitive area.

logan gets off his spot on the bed, making his way towards you, joining you in front of the mirror. his hands immediately fall to your hips out of instinct, but he makes sure not to grab too tightly due to your new look.

“baby,” he says, placing his chin onto your shoulder. you let out another wince, reacting to his touch. “i told you to wear sunscreen. now look at you, my little lobster…”

“this isn’t funny,” you pout, and he leans forward to place a chaste kiss on your lips. you spin around in his arms, now facing him face-to-face rather than through the mirror.

“stop pouting baby, and go hop in the shower, please. the sooner you get some cold water on you, the better you’ll feel. i can feel the heat radiating off you from here,” logan said with a giggle. his hands linger around your ass, and he gives a slight smack to send you on your way, which elicits a shrill yelp from you due to the sensitivity of the area.

“are you at least going to join me?” you question as you make your way to his en suite, stopping in the door frame with your arms crossed across your chest. logan lets out another giggle.

“and listen to you whine the whole time? no thanks, plus i showered like an hour ago,” he replies, which garners a predictable whine from you. “if you make it quick, i might have something that can help you,” he adds, and you turn on your heel into the bathroom, shutting the door with a slam.

and he was right; the shower hurt like hell, but you know that had he been there, you wouldn’t have been able to properly soak in the cold water, so you silently curse him for being right.

you walk back into logan’s room, wrapped in your towel, when you see him sitting on the bed, scrolling mindlessly on his phone. he hears you approach, putting his phone down and grabbing the clear bottle off the bed next to him.

“i found you aloe; well, my mom did. she said your burn is one of the worst she’s seen,” logan said, presenting the bottle to you like it was a participation trophy.

“is that supposed to make me feel better or worse, logie?” you questioned, feigning offence from his comment.

“well, the comment probably won’t, but hopefully the aloe does,” he replied. “c’mere, baby,” he cooed, his arms outstretched, welcoming you into his arms. you take your spot on his lap, legs draped over his thigh, wrapping your arms around his neck to keep you in place. logan places a kiss to the bridge of your nose, and along your cheeks, leaning in to admire the newly-formed freckles that were threatening to peak out from underneath the harsh redness of your skin.

“your freckles are back; reminds me of when we were little, trying to catch fish with my dad in the backyard. you were so bad at it; still are to be honest, but it’s okay because you still look cute trying to bait a hook,” he laughs, his breath giving a cooling sensation to your cheeks, and you wish he would keep talking just to feel his breath against your skin.

“logan, baby, the aloe?” you suggest, knowing that the time he’s wasting is killing you. all you crave is the feeling of the lotion on you, and his hands being the ones to apply it.

“sorry, didn’t mean to get sentimental on you, just being here with you makes me think about stuff like that. i sometimes wish we could go back…” logan trails off, and you know what he’s thinking about. he often thinks about the memories of you growing up, how much he missed you when he moved away to the uk, and what it meant to get you back. you like to think of those moments too, sometimes, but he often gets in his head about it.

“i know,” you coo, lifting a hand up to card through the longer hair on the back of his neck, as a way to soothe him.

he lifts the bottle of aloe up towards you.

“may i?” he asks, cocking an eyebrow up in an inquisitive way.

“of course you may. how do you want me?” you ask, a mischievous look in your eye.

“do not say it like that, you minx,” logan shot back, your innuendo catching him by surprise.

“keep talking crazy like that, and we might have a problem,” he snapped, although with no actual malice behind it. “you can lay on your tummy first, though, and i’ll go from there, if that’s okay,” he said, his expression softening as he looked at you.

you climb out of his lap and onto your stomach on the bed next to him, and he straddles your back to get the proper angle.

“this okay?” he asks, tugging slightly at the towel that is still loosely wrapped around your back.

“log, you’ve seen me naked countless times; of course it’s okay,” you quip, turning your head so he can see the side of your face. he leans down, planting a sloppy kiss to your cheek, blowing a raspberry there. this elicits a giggle from you, wriggling underneath him.

logan drags the towel down your body slowly, his fingers barely grazing your warm, sensitive skin, standing up on his knees to pull it out from under you.

“i know we aren’t having sex or anything, but could you at least take your shirt off or something? this feels too clinical,” you say, causing logan to burst out laughing above you.

“you are not a real person, i swear to god,” he quips, pulling his shirt over his head in one quick motion. “is that better, princess?” he says sarcastically, using the nickname he only gives you when you’re acting like a handful.

between your fits of giggles, you let out a “mhm” that signals to logan that he is free to proceed. this evokes an eye roll from logan that you catch out of the corner of your eye.

his attitude doesn’t last long, however, because before you can protest, his lips find your shoulder blade, peppering kisses along the top of your back, feeling his stubble graze across your skin. it burns, but feels so good at the same time.

“so sweet for me, logie,” you groan, melting into his touch. he reaches for your hair, still damp from the shower, to move it out of his way, as he makes his way across the plane of your body.

all he can manage is a drawn out “hmmmmm” as he feels the warmth of your skin along his cheek.

he pulls away suddenly, and you whimper at the loss of contact from him.

“i know, i know,” he cooes, and you hear the bottle of lotion being opened just out of your periphery.

his hands make contact with your skin again, feeling the sensation of the cool liquid as he massages it in. his strong hands make their way up and down your back, causing you to arch only slightly, if it wasn’t for him sitting squarely on your ass.

“you’re killing me, logan,” you half-whisper, his actions genuinely taking your ability to speak at a regular volume, the intimacy of it all being just a little too much for you.

“feels good, huh?” he asks, and although you can’t see it, you can tell that he’s cocked his eyebrow at you, and you’re surprised he’s been able to behave himself this long.

his hands work swiftly, massaging the liquid in with long, deft fingers, the sensation driving you crazy.

“logan, i want you, please,” you whine, looking up over your shoulder to meet his gaze, your eyes softening in an almost begging manor.

“i thought you said we weren’t–”

“i lied. i’m a liar. i need you right now,” you beg, as logan stands back up on his knees to allow you to roll over underneath him, him now settled on your thighs.

“fuck, baby, i can’t say no to you,” he huffs, not sure exactly how to make the next move. he looks down at you splayed out in front of him, taking in the sight before him. a hand reaches down to caress down your chest, fingers grazing slightly over your nipple, causing your breath to hitch.

“we have to make it quick, okay? can you be good for me?” he asks, his hand lingering on your left breast.

you let out a whimper, shaking your head slightly.

“words, baby,” he sighs, his fingers massaging into the tissue of your chest.

“yes, i’ll do whatever you want,” you whisper, unable to find your voice with how turned on you were.

“that’s my pretty girl,” logan cooes, leaning down to place a kiss on your lips, adjusting himself so he’s slotted between your legs. the kiss deepens, his tongue finding its way into your mouth, as he swallows your muffled moans, trying to avoid the awkward conversation with his mom later.

“gotta be quiet, baby,” he whispers, his hand running up and down your side, the warmth of his hand searing your sensitive skin.

“god, i feel like we’re in high school again,” you say, rolling your eyes at him.

“except i wasn’t nearly as good then as i am now, though,” he smirks, diving down to leave a trail of kisses from the corner of your mouth to the base of your neck, softly nibbling on your pulse point.

“are you gonna prove it?” you ask, trying to rile him up.

this question evokes something in him, his breath against your skin coming hot and sudden, and you could feel the deep exhale from his nose.

leaning up to your ear, he whispers, “you are such a brat.”

the sensation from the whisper mixed with the sting of his words sends a shock straight to your core. he’s not always the best at dirty talk, but he still somehow knows exactly what to say and when to say it.

“touch me, logan,” you manage to squeak out, your breath growing heavier the more you took in his words, and he was eager to oblige.

with that, the hand that found comfort on your hip trailed its way down between your bodies, grazing the softness of your stomach, fingers oh-so-gently teasing your folds.

“so wet, huh? so worked up for me? you drive me so fucking crazy, you know that?” he growls, his voice rasping as he begins rubbing small circles against your clit with his thumb. “one or two, baby?” he asks, and you know exactly what he means.

“two, please”, you whine into his mouth, body arching up into him before he even has the chance to touch you properly.

“good girl, take it so well,” he groans, sliding two fingers into your cunt, almost too slowly. his voice is almost unrecognizable, the threat of being too loud taking over. his thumb continues its pattern on your clit.

you feel the tension building as he fucks his hand in and out of you, but not before you feel him slowing his pace down.

“i know you wanna come now baby, but we don’t have long. i’m gonna stop, and we can come together, okay?”, he half-whispers.

his hand moves from its spot between your thighs back up toward your lips, as he rests his fingers on your bottom lip, cocking his eyebrow at you.

“o-okay,” you squeak out, and with that, his fingers push past your lips, urging you to suck them clean, and you oblige, swirling your tongue around his digits, tasting yourself on his fingers.

your hands trail down between you two, your fingers dipping underneath his shorts and boxers, toying with the waistband.

logan removes his fingers from your mouth, opting to move back to your jawline, planting lingering kisses along the bone.

“quit teasing, baby, want you on top. let me see those pretty tits of yours, yeah?”, he smirks, knowing that him complimenting your body drives you crazy in the best way.

you oblige with a searing kiss to his lips, opting to pull his shorts down in one motion, cock bobbing free and slapping across his stomach. he reaches down to finish taking them off, throwing them on the floor with your long-abandoned towel.

he rolls you both over with ease, you now on top. your fingertips graze his chest, down to his abs, grabbing his cock and giving it a few quick pumps to make sure he’s ready.

“ready, log?” you ask, your hands now on either side of his head, his blue eyes sparkling back up at you, your hips and ass now up in the air waiting for his cue.

he leans up to chase your lips, trying to kiss you, just out of his reach.

“please, baby, i can’t take it much more,” he begs, using his arms to pull you down to him, sinking down on him, and meeting his lips with yours. now it’s his turn to moan into your mouth.

“fuuuuuck,” is all he’s able to get out, his hands finding their way to your hips, trying to help you relieve the lack of sensation. Your hips roll for the first time over him, and his hips immediately buck up into you.

“patience, baby. i thought i was the desperate one?” your words go right to his cock, making him buck up once again, making you speed up your motions. you feel the effects of his desperation on your body, the coil in your stomach winding tighter with every bounce on his cock.

“fuck, you’re close, baby; so am i,” logan pants, the physicality of it all catching up to him. he knows your body so well; he can always tell when you’re about to come.

with his observation, you lean back with your hands behind you on his thighs, your hips continuing to roll against his body, eliciting a low, grumbling moan from logan. he loved you like that, all cock-drunk and lazy on top of him. it also meant that he had a perfect view of your tits, both his hands reaching to grab at them as he continued fucking up into you.

“these are so fucking perfect. all mine. i can’t believe you’re all mine, baby,” logan pants, both of your movements becoming lazier, as he rolls your nipples in between his fingers, feeling your already-tight walls close in on his cock.

you can feel your orgasm quickly approaching with his presence on your tits, and you know that he isn’t going to last long, either. you lean forward, diminishing the space between you two, giving logan the opportunity to bear hug you. his thrusts up into you send you over the edge, your orgasm ripping through you, causing you to let out a muffled moan onto his right pec. your vision goes slightly blurry for a second until you hear a grunted “fuck, baby”, followed by the feeling of logan’s hips sputtering underneath you. he comes shortly after you, spilling into you.

You collapse onto his chest, your highs riding out together. he doesn’t loosen his grip around your back, planting a sweet kiss to the top of your forehead, pulling out as you lay pitifully on his chest.

“so good for me, baby, so sweet. fuck, i’m so lucky,” he whispers, rubbing your back where, just a few minutes earlier, he was applying aloe lotion. he rolls you both over so that you’re now facing each other on your sides.

you reach a hand up to caress his face, feeling the stubble from a week’s worth of no races, the hair rough against your smooth palm.

“logie, you fucked me so good i almost forgot about this damn sunburn,” you giggled, “but now we’re done and it just hurts again!”

“guess that means i’ll just have to fuck you again,” logan smirked, burying his head into the crook of your neck, eliciting more giggles from you. you begin to hook your leg over his thigh, bringing you even closer, pulling him in for a passionate kiss. you almost begin the cycle over again until you hear a knock on the door that has you both frozen in your tracks.

“dinner!” you hear his mom cheer from the other side of the door, and then her footsteps clearly walking back down the hall towards the kitchen.

“guess not,” you teased, eliciting an eye roll from logan, who quickly gets up to pull you into the bathroom to get cleaned up.

#logan sargeant smut #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #logan sargeant #logan sargeant x reader

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chrissdollie · 1 year ago

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movie night (jess mariano x gilmore reader) ♡.｡.:*

a/n: just letting you know before you read, i wrote this at like 10:30, i was super tired and i did not proofread 😭 i’m just trying to get this out tbh. also this is kinda just bc i may not be able to get out chapters 5 and 6 for iwmflyb this week. ik it’s not billy but maybe i’ll do something for him tmr wc: 1.4k

“rory! where’s my white sweater?” you yelled to your sister. you walked out of your room and ran downstairs to her room. “can i give it to you tomorrow?” she asked with puppy dog eyes, pouting. you folded your arms in her doorway. “why tomorrow?” you raised an eyebrow. “dean’s coming over tonight.” rory told you , getting up from her bed. “hm, okay. as soon as prince charming leaves, i’m stealing it back!” you sassed. rory stuck out her tongue at you in which you did right back.

then a knock was heard at the door. mom forgot to get luke to fix the doorbell, so everyone had to knock for now. “coming!” you yelled. you ran out of rory’s room to the door. you opened the door to reveal a slightly messy jess. “oh, hey.” you greeted. this was very random. “oh, hey back.” he teased. he welcomed himself into your home and walked to the kitchen. “wait why are you here?” you followed.

he took off his jacket and put it on the back of a chair. “i thought we were hanging out today?” he stated, confused. “no, you’re coming over tomorrow, silly.” you walked over to the fridge and took out a chocolate pudding. “dessert before dinner? naughty, naughty.” jess joked. “shh.”

“your mom won’t mind right?” he questioned slightly nervously.

“mind what?” you replied with a mouthful of pudding. rory came out of her room in a rush but stopped in her tracks seeing jess. “um. what’s he doing here?” rory folded her arms and tapped her foot. “hello to you too. i’m great, thanks. how are you?” jess spoke sarcastically. “you guys are bad hosts.”

you ignored jess and turned to rory. “jess forgot that he was coming over tomorrow instead of today, ror.” you explained. “you mind of we change it to today?” he wiggled his eyebrows. “no! dean is coming over today and i don’t want you to ruin it.” rory whined. “how would i ruin it?” he responded highly offended. “yeah, please tell us.” you quipped.

“by being… jess!”

“now that’s a great answer if i’ve ever heard one.” you giggled. “i mean it though, dean doesn’t like him, he doesn’t like dean. you see the pattern?” she tried to convince you. “oh hush, you.” you silenced her, turning to face jess. “sure, you can stay. as long as you bring us the goods from Luke’s.” you ordered, standing taller. “i’ll go get them right now.” he winked.

rory rolled her eyes as soon as he left. you put your spoon in the sink. “why are you being so mean today? you’re friends with him!”

“okay, i’m sorry, but dean really doesn’t like him. i just don’t want him to ruin anything between us.” she confessed. “MOMMY! RORY’S HAVING BOY PROBLEMS!” you yelled very loudly. “shut up!” rory grinned, laughing. “NO IM NOT!” she yelled back upstairs.

the thudding of lorelai’s loud boots was heard as she ran into the living room. “spill it, sister.” she sat down excitedly. rory turned back to you. “he’s bringing Luke’s! i think it’s a pretty fair deal. and it’ll be like a double date!” you reasoned. “oooohhh. a double date!” lorelai’s eyes shone brightly like a cartoon character. “well fine, but what am i supposed to tell him? ‘oh, hi dean! do you mind if your least favorite person on earth joins us for our very romantic date tonight? thanks!’” she overdramatically acted out.

“ooh, ooh, i’ll be dean!” lorelai turned her chair. she furrowed her brows and her voice changed to a deep tone. “oh no way, rory, i repeat, NO. WAY.” you giggled at your mother’s impression.

“he doesn’t sound like that!” she tried to hide it, but rory couldn’t help grinning. “just don’t tell him.” you simply put. you nodded while rory scoffed. “whatever you say.” she walked back into her room. lorelai looked at you.

“she seems excited.”

the first knock of the night was heard at 7pm. “knock knock!” rory went running to the door hoping it was dean first. but she was disappointed as it was jess instead with a box. “food!” rory cheered, grabbing the box from him. “thanks.”

jess closed the door and stepped inside. you were spread on the couch with a soft blanket on top of you. he walked over to where you were and bent over to kiss your head. “someone looks cozy.”

“i am.” you grinned. “what are we watching tonight?” he asked sitting on your feet. “Donna Reed!” rory yelled from the kitchen. jess rolled his eyes smiling. “that’s not a movie. this is supposed to be a movie night.”

“whatever. she still deserves to be seen.” you sat up and leaned onto jess’ shoulder. “dean says he’s gonna be here in five minutes.” rory announced walking into the living room with a bowl of popcorn. “ooh, ooh!! you should hide and scare him.” you giggled mischievously.

“no, that’s a terrible idea. that’ll make it even worse for him.” rory sympathized. she wasn’t wrong, dean would probably get super mad. “fine.” you shrugged. it’s alright, there will always be next time!

the second knock of the night was heard a few minutes later to which rory got up to answer the door. “hi, dean.” she leaned up to kiss him. he walked in and gave her the tub of ice cream. “what flavor did you get?” you asked him, shouting.

he chuckled and walked into the living room. “hey-“ he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw jess’ face staring back at him. he turned to rory. “wh- is this some kind of joke?” you could see the anger starting to rise.

“y/n wanted him over tonight. he said he’s going to behave.” rory soothed, handing you the ice cream and sitting down on the couch. his mouth formed a straight line when jess gave his little wave.

dean walked over and sat next to rory with his arms crossed. you gasped. “neapolitan!” you cheered. jess grabbed a spoon from the table and dug in with you. “what are we gonna watch?” dean questioned, taking some popcorn. “donna reed.” you and rory answered simultaneously.

“what’s that?” he manspread on the couch. “i’m sorry, what? you’ve never seen it?” you exaggerated, putting a hand to your heart making jess grin. “that’s a sin.” rory gasped. “that’s a cruel statement.” you quipped.

“so it’s like a show?” he asked, smiling softly. he was slightly nervous with jess being here. part of him didn’t know how to act. “it’s more than a show. it’s a lifestyle!” rory boasted and turned to you. “it’s a religion.” you pointed with your spoon and a mouthful of ice cream. rory nodded with you.

“oh jeez, can you put it on already? i’m dying over here.” jess groaned dramatically. you stuck your tongue out at him and pressed play.

“bye dean!” you waved goodbye after watching a few episodes of the great donna reed. rory was quite upset, though. jess fell asleep on the couch while you guys were watching so you decided to leave him there for a few minutes to talk to rory privately. “how could he like that kind of stuff?” she whispered. “i think he just meant that the idea of a wife cooking for her husband is nice.” you reasoned.

“but i don’t think he understands the time period. what it was like for women at this time, you know?” she continued whispering. you nodded your head in understanding. you think she was being a little extra, but you kept that to yourself. “i’m tired i’m going to sleep.” rory kissed your cheek and walked to her room. “nighty night!” you whisper yelled.

you crawled onto jess and he shifted over slightly. “jess,” you shook him slightly. “wake up for a sec, babe.” you needed to quickly make sure he was allowed to sleepover without luke going into a frenzy before you could sleep comfortably.

you could hear him awakening from his slumber. “yeah, what’s up? you okay?” he sat up quickly. “i’m alright, are you able to sleepover?” you asked, rubbing his arm. he nodded and laid back down, bringing you with him. he stroked your hair as you covered yourself with the blanket. “goodnight!” you kissed his neck before snuggling into him. “goodnight y/n.”

you sat up all of a sudden. “my sweater!” you whisper-yelled out. “huh??” jess hummed. “i need to get my sweater back from rory!” you got up and ran down the hall to her room, slamming her door open. jess chuckled to himself. “I WANT MY SWEATER BACK!”

#jess mariano #donna reed #that damn donna reed #gilmore girls #gilmore girls x reader #y/n #jess mariano x reader #jess x y/n #jess #movie night #lukes #dean forester #rory gilmore #lorelai gilmore #drabble #y/n gilmore #𝓳𝓮𝓼𝓼 𝓶𝓪𝓻𝓲𝓪𝓷𝓸 ☕️

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fushisagi · 1 year ago

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miya atsumu and the chronic lovesick disease

୨୧ ━━ ❛ what am i to you, atsumu? ❜

word count ⋆ 12.6k (12,607) genre ⋆ fluff, slight angst, friends to lovers, college au ━ gn!reader

the question comes to him one autumn night, surrounded by his friends and the chilly november breeze, asked by, who he assumes to be, just another nobody looking for money: what is it that you desire most, boy? the psychic asks, her saccharine smile forgotten when he looks into the crystal ball and all he ends up seeing is you. alternatively: miya atsumu is not in love. what the hell? who would ever suggest something like that?

warnings ⋆ alcohol consumption, mutual pining, denial of feelings!!! lots of it!! and with this denial comes some stupid decisions!!! author’s note ⋆ ive actually like never been to the psychic before so if its inaccurate im so sorry ..... it’s not really a big part of the plot though so hopefully u can overlook it 😭

o. Desire

This is a scam, is Atsumu’s first thought when he takes a seat inside the tent and finds himself face-to-face with a crystal ball.

People like this are dangerous — his twin brother never lets anyone forget it. They take advantage of an individual’s fear of the unknown and they make money off it. It’s genius, because even the strongest people can become weak to something as mundane as self-proclaimed clairvoyants setting base near a college campus.

Atsumu supposes he’s no exception. Even if Bokuto was the one who forced him to do this in the first place.

“Hello,” the woman greets, her hair pinned into a tight bun. “You’re here for a reading?”

“Sure,” Atsumu huffs, shivering when the cold breeze sneaks into the tent. He really should’ve worn a thicker jacket.

When he looks up from the table, the woman gives him a smile. It’s analytical, as if all he needed to do was sit down for her to know everything about him. He fidgets in his seat, growing more uncomfortable under her gaze.

“So,” she says, clasping her hands together and resting them on the table. “What is it that you desire most, boy?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Your greatest desire,” she repeats patiently.

Atsumu blinks before tilting his head. “Um, I’m not—”

“I’m sure you know,” she says. “Is it strength? Power? Love?”

All colour drains from Atsumu’s face. The psychic smiles wickedly.

Atsumu thinks this may be the end of him. He never liked it when people acted like they knew more about his intentions than he did, and it only took mere minutes before the woman figured him out.

His hand twitches. He would feel a lot better if you were here—

“Ah,” she clicks her tongue, “bingo.”

i. Strength

After a borderline homicidal game of rock, paper, scissors, Sakusa lands himself a new roommate.

Move-in day comes two weeks later and Atsumu sits in the lobby of the building, waiting for your car to pull into the parking lot.

He notes the time — it’s five minutes past 8:30, making you more than half an hour late — before grumbling under his breath and continuing to scroll through his feed. When Instagram notifies him that he’s all caught up, he exits the app and opens Twitter in hopes that something will be able to entertain him until you show up. He likes some tweets, retweets a few more, and terrorizes Suna before he grows bored at the lack of anything interesting on his timeline.

Another glance at the time. He scowls. It’s only been two minutes.

Atsumu debates asking Sakusa if he knows what’s happened to you. When he opens their message thread, he raises an eyebrow at how unbelievably one-sided their conversations are, but he decides that’s a problem for another day. Your absence is more important to Atsumu than Sakusa’s terrible conversational skills ever will be.

(He’ll bother Sakusa about it later).

He’s about to send a long string of emojis when an incredulous voice reaches his ears.

“Tsumu?”

He looks up and immediately pockets his phone with a grin. “You’re late.”

You adjust the box of donuts in your hands and squint at him as if his smile is as blinding as the sun. “I slept through my alarm. What the hell are you doing here?”

Atsumu gestures to his outfit. “What does it look like?”

You stare blankly.

“Seriously?” he scoffs. “I told you last night I’d help you move in. How’d you forget? Am I that forgettable? You wound me, I—”

“Shut up,” you say, shifting your weight. Atsumu’s eyes flicker to the sticker on the box, and he tries his best not to frown when he notices you’ve written Sakusa’s name in calligraphy with a heart at the end. “Of course I remember you offering to help because I spent my entire night telling you it was fine.”

“You expect me to believe that you can bring all your shit in by yourself? You look like you just rolled out of bed.”

“Thank you, Tsumu, I can always count on you to make me feel like I’ve been shot by Cupid’s arrow,” you quip, brushing past him to get to the elevator, and as if it’s second nature, he follows. “I can’t believe people walk around campus calling you sweet.”

“I never said you looked bad,” he says. “I think the dried drool on your chin is pretty cute, actually.”

“Whatever,” you hurriedly wipe your face. “Speaking of bad, what on Earth are you wearing?”

Atsumu knows full well you’re not complimenting him, but he decides to treat your comment as if you have. He beams, picking at the sweatpants you eye with disgust before walking into the elevator with you.

“It’s my mover outfit!”

“Your mover outfit,” you deadpan. “Disregarding whatever that means — those sweatpants are baggier than Kenma’s eyebags. And they do nothing for your ass.”

He smirks. “You were checking out my ass?”

You avoid eye contact, feigning indifference, but Atsumu’s known you for too long and immediately recognizes your fluster by the way you tug at the hem of your clothing.

“No,” you deny curtly, straightening your posture when the elevator doors open to show Sakusa’s floor. “It’s just hard not to notice when those sweats are ridiculously baggy. Seriously, are you trying to put something in there? I could fit a month’s worth of groceries in those.”

You’re walking swiftly, eager to get to your new apartment and end the conversation. The both of you are well aware that Atsumu’s more than capable of catching up with you, but he hangs back, preferring to watch you babble while he trails behind.

You clutch the donuts closer to your body as words tumble out of your mouth — a list of things that could fit in his sweats, including two jugs of milk and a family size pack of chips — and Atsumu can’t stop the lopsided smile from appearing on his face.

“Maybe a carton of eggs, too,” he suggests.

“Oh, I wouldn’t trust you with eggs,” you say sharply.

“Why not?”

“Are you really asking me that? Last month I lent you my blanket and you gave it back to me with a hole in it.”

“For the last time,” Atsumu begins, quickening so he’s side-by-side with you, “that was Samu’s fault, not mine.”

“…Alright.”

“Y/N,” he whines. “I’m serious! None of that was on me — I even bought you a new blanket! Would Samu have done that? I don’t think so—”

“Actually—”

“The point is,” Atsumu interrupts, throwing you a glare before continuing, “blame Samu. Whenever something bad happens, blame him. That’s what I always do.”

“Spoken like a true, responsible individual.”

“Hey!” he protests. “I’m responsible!”

You open your mouth to deny his claims, but the pout he plasters over his face is enough for you to give in. Too tired to give him something as golden as a verbal agreement, you opt for changing the subject. “Do you think Sakusa will like the donuts?”

Atsumu frowns. “Why does it matter? They’re donuts.”

You grow annoyed at his impertinence. “I want him to like me, you moron.”

His expression sours further. “He’s your friend.”

“And I won a game of rock, paper, scissors, so now I’m his roommate,” you remark. “There’s a difference between being friends with someone and living with them. I mean, would you want to live with Bokuto?”

Atsumu’s answer is swift. “Hell no.”

“Exactly,” you say, “I need us to get along.”

You stop in front of a door and begin searching your pockets for your key. There’s a pinch between your eyebrows, the box trembles as you struggle to balance it with one hand, and your clothes are a mess, but underneath the fluorescent light of the hallway, Atsumu can’t help but think you almost look angelic.

He shakes the thought away, squashes it beneath his foot until the remnants of it have been absorbed by the carpet.

“The last time I saw you this nervous was when you asked out that barista,” he muses.

You dig your hand into the breast pocket of your shirt and huff when you find nothing. “What are you implying?”

Atsumu stares pointedly at the sticker on the box. Your face morphs into one of horror.

“Are you dense?”

“Calligraphy, Y/N. I’ve never seen you write calligraphy in my entire life.”

“I was trying something out!”

“Oh, I’m sure.”

You smack him on the shoulder. “I was being thoughtful,” you grunt, softening when Atsumu winces and rubs the spot where you hit him. “He’s my friend, and that’s all he ever will be.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Really?”

Your eyes leave him for a millisecond, flickering to somewhere else on his face before returning his gaze once more. “Of course,” you say softly, “Besides, I—”

The door swings open.

“You’re loud,” Sakusa deadpans in the doorway. His eyes travel down to the donuts. “Are those for me?”

You hand them over to him. “Yeah, I didn’t know what you liked, so they’re all assorted.”

Sakusa hums in thanks before tilting his head at Atsumu. “Why’re you here?”

“To help them move in,” Atsumu grins, placing a hand on your shoulder and squeezing it. “I know you’re going to the drycleaners, and I couldn’t let Y/N do this all by themselves.”

Sakusa shrugs and turns to go further into the apartment. “Sounds good to me. I’d rather not have to press those nasty elevator buttons multiple times just so I can come down and get your stuff,” he gives you the best apologetic look he can muster. “Have fun, though.”

Before you can go on a tangent about how Sakusa should be more welcoming, Atsumu pipes up, “Yeah, don’t worry! ‘S all in good hands,” he nudges you with his elbow. “Right? Your stuff can’t be that heavy.”

Atsumu, not for the first time and certainly not the last, stands corrected.

Not only is your stuff heavy, but there’s much more than he expected.

With each trip down to the parking lot, his muscles grow strained, and he feels the fatigue threaten to droop his eyelids shut. But, in the corner of his eyes, he sees your persistence to get this over and done with, and Atsumu decides it won’t hurt to push through.

His complaining and wailing can wait until later.

After you place the last box into your new bedroom, you turn to him while wiping the sweat from your forehead. “Thank you,” you say breathlessly.

He goes to tease you, to say that you owe him now, that you’ll be indebted to him for life.

But what comes out of his mouth instead is: “‘Course. Call me whenever you want, and I’ll be there.”

Atsumu calls it a housewarming gift. Sakusa says there is hardly anything warming about it.

It referring to the group of boys gathered in the living room — your friends on good days, the bane of your existence on all the others — with their limbs strewn about and their soda cans sitting too close to the edge of the coffee table. It’s an odd sight for Sakusa to have this many people over on a Thursday night, but Atsumu insisted, and he caught Sakusa on a good day when he asked if he could hold a movie night at the apartment to celebrate your new accommodations.

You’re sure Sakusa regrets it now. He sits in his armchair with a permanent scowl, swatting Hinata away when the boy reaches to fix the crease between Sakusa’s brows. If looks could kill, Atsumu would’ve been dropped dead ten minutes ago.

He covers his fear with a grin, but out of the corner of his mouth, he says to you, “Help me.”

You snicker. “You’re on your own, dude.”

“I thought I told you to stop calling me that.”

“What? But Bokuto calls you that, too!”

“Yeah, but it’s Bokuto.”

“I have no idea what you mean by that.”

Atsumu only tsks, forcibly ending the conversation by suggesting to the room that they should all play a game to decide who’ll prepare all the popcorn. A chorus of agreements is what he gets in response, along with someone complaining about how he should be spared due to his gruelling volleyball practice, and another person expressing his sympathies for the future loser.

Atsumu prepares the ladder game, and after he’s done, he looks at everyone with fiery hot intensity, an expression similar to one he wears during a match. “Remember,” he declares, “whoever loses can’t complain.”

Luck isn’t on his side tonight.

“What the hell!” he screeches once the reality of his defeat settles in.

Osamu, far too smug for Atsumu’s liking, quips, “I thought you said no complaining.”

The noise that leaves Atsumu’s mouth is something akin to a pathetic but animalistic growl. He goes to protest, even raising his hand to list off reasons why he’s been wronged — someone must’ve cheated, or maybe everyone in this room has a ruthless vendetta against him — but just as the words are about to leave his lips, his eyes land on you.

You challenge him to complain with a look, and he suddenly gets a much better idea.

“Y/N,” he says sweetly, growing pleased at your uneasiness. “As the host of this housewarming party, it’s only fair that you help me, too.”

“What?” you squawk, leaning forward as if you’ve misheard him. “But you were the one who suggested doing all of this! How is it now on me to help—”

“Well, he wouldn’t have done this if it wasn’t for you,” Sakusa muses.

You stare at him in disbelief. “Are you taking his side? What happened to roommate solidarity?”

“You just made that up,” Sakusa replies. “Besides, this thing will go by faster if two people prepare the popcorn, and I don’t think Miya wants anyone else other than you.”

Atsumu shifts uncomfortably at the implication, and he involuntarily commits your surprised expression to memory.

(When he goes to sleep later that night, your surprise is all he sees against the darkness of his eyelids).

“Other than me—?”

“To make the popcorn,” Sakusa drawls matter-of-factly.

You blink. “Right.” You look at Atsumu, and he shrugs dumbly, unsure of how else to react to your sudden change in behaviour.

To him, you have always been easy to read, but right now, he’s not entirely sure if there’s a word for the expression on your face. He yearns to press a hand to your cheek to melt the malaise away, to be rid of it forever so he can see you smiling again.

Something in his chest twists.

“Right!” you repeat, more loudly this time, and startling the rest of your friends. You slap your hands on your lap before standing and grabbing Atsumu’s wrist to pull him away. “I guess I’m helping you make popcorn. You owe me one, Miya.”

Your skin is warmer than usual, threatening to burn him until your fingerprints are marked onto his skin.

(Behind him, Suna stage-whispers, “You are so whipped, Y/N.”)

Your touch disappears the moment you’ve both crossed the threshold into the kitchenette. Atsumu flexes his hand, trying to get rid of an urge in his veins he can’t quite explain.

“Hey,” you say casually, back turned to him as you dig through the cabinets for the popcorn packets. “Did you finish that essay for literature class?”

Atsumu awkwardly clears his throat and begins playing with the settings on the microwave. “The paper?”

“Yes, the paper,” you say. “The one I told you to start two weeks ago so you wouldn’t end up sending a half-assed essay two minutes before the deadline?”

“Why are you talking like you think I didn’t start it yet?”

“Because I know you, Tsumu,” you reply, shutting the cabinet with your elbow and ungracefully dropping the packets onto the counter beside him. “And I lost faith in your ability to listen to me a long time ago.”

“How rude. I always listen to you,” he sticks his nose in the air like a scorned, evil, cartoon antagonist, “I just don’t take all your suggestions. There’s a difference.”

“You make my life so much harder,” you huff, inputting a minute-thirty into the microwave. “I honestly think I lose ten years of my lifespan whenever you tell me you’ve gotten yourself into another dilemma.”

“Don’t be dramatic. I’m sure you only lose, like, three at most.”

“No, it’s definitely ten,” you say. “You worry me too much, Miya.”

The smile on Atsumu’s face, previously smug and confident, softens.

“Seriously, though,” you continue, jabbing a finger into his sternum. “The paper? It’s due tonight.”

He flicks your nose, snorting when you pull a face. “I sent it in this morning.”

“Seriously?”

“Hey! Don’t act so shocked!”

“Well, this is, like, the first time you’ve ever done something even remotely responsible, so—”

“I thought we both agreed I’m a generally responsible person.”

Your silence is enough of a response.

Atsumu gasps just as the microwave beeps, allowing you to ignore his stunned expression in order to begin preparing another bag of kernels.

“Give me one reason—”

“The blanket—”

“—that isn’t the blanket,” he says sourly. “That doesn’t count. I told you that was Samu’s fault, not mine.”

“Do you want a list? Because I have one.”

“Are you serious or are you just fucking with me?”

“Osamu and I have a Google Doc.”

Another gasp. You roll your eyes.

“Now you’re in kahoots with my brother? What’s next? Planning my downfall with Suna?”

“I’m sure he’s fine doing that himself without my help.”

He whines, stomping his foot when you only stare back in amusement. “Don’t be so unrepentant, Y/N!”

You dump the contents of the hot popcorn bags into a large bowl for everyone to share. “Unrepentant? Was that the word on your word-of-the-day calendar?”

“Shut up. You know only Kuroo has lame stuff like that,” Atsumu grumbles, throwing the last popcorn packet into the faulty brick of power you and Sakusa call a microwave. “I used it in my essay. Thesauruses are a godsend. It really came in handy when I was writing about the flower symbolism in the book. Y’know what’s even better, though? SparkNotes.”

You tilt your head, studying Atsumu with furrowed eyebrows. “Huh.”

“What d’you mean huh?”

“Nothing,” you say innocently. “I just didn’t think you’d choose that essay topic, that’s all.”

“It was the easiest one,” he states. You hum in agreement, but he can sense you falling into a state of pondering before it even happens, so he lightly pokes your shoulder in hopes it’ll be enough to keep you from drifting too far from his reach. “Why, what did you think I picked?”

He can tell you’re debating what to tell him, letting a few seconds pass before you give in. “I thought you’d do the one that centred more around…” you trail off, clenching and unclenching your jaw, “the love aspect of it all.”

He blinks. “Why?”

Childishly, you retort, “Why not?”

Atsumu licks his lips. “Well, you’re always telling me to write what I know. And I may not know a whole lot about flowers, but I know more about those than, y’know, love.”

Something passes over your face, the same thing he saw when Sakusa said something — implied something — in the living room. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he answers. “I’ve had relationships, sure, but none that made me feel anything like— like that.”

You drum your fingers against the bowl. “None at all?”

“None at all.”

You click your tongue and stare at the microwave. Its buzz has become more prominent in your silence, a mocking hum hanging over the air as you contemplate and Atsumu stares, waiting impatiently for a word to slip past your lips.

But there’s nothing. Instead, the microwave beeps again, indicating that the last of the popcorn is ready.

“That’s good to know,” you say lightly. At least, that’s what you attempt, but you sound different, like a parasite has found solace in your vocal cords and fiddled with everything Atsumu’s familiar with.

“It is?”

“Yeah,” you nod, handing the bowl over to him. Popcorn threatens to spill but Atsumu can’t bring himself to care. “Hey, be careful. What, is it too heavy? Are you too weak to carry it?”

“It’s popcorn,” Atsumu rasps.

You eye him oddly, as if he’s the one whose behaviour should be examined under a microscope. “Don’t spill it everywhere. Sakusa’ll get pissed, and we’re already pushing it with this movie night thing.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Of course,” you agree. “But if you need me—”

“I know,” he interjects.

Simple promises are often uttered during private moments between you and Atsumu — an oath to be there for the other, to stand by their side no matter what. The words soothe him when they’re said aloud; he knows, underneath all the teasing and the bickering and the irritated eyerolls, is your pinky and his, intertwined.

And despite the voice in his head taunting him about a secret he’s unaware of, he allows the promise to enchant him.

I’ll be there for you.

“Do you need help?”

Atsumu grunts, adjusting your arm around his neck as he opens the car door. “No, I’m fine.”

“Thanks for picking them up,” Aran says, voice loud above the frat house’s music, “I know you were tired from practice, but—”

“It’s fine. I probably would’ve killed you if you didn’t call me, anyway.”

“Osamu said you’d say that.”

Atsumu expertly brushes off the statement, gently ushering you into the passenger’s seat and putting your seatbelt on with gentle fingers. Behind him, Aran watches the movements with thoughtful eyes and a quirk of his eyebrows.

“The last time they got this drunk was at the fall festival last year,” he muses. “For your sake, I hope it doesn’t happen again.”

“What does that mean?”

“Hm?”

“For your sake,” Atsumu echoes, turning to face Aran once the door’s been shut and he’s made sure you’re sleeping soundlessly with your head resting against the cold window. Atsumu stands pin-straight, his posture contrasting the way Aran stands opposite him, relaxed with his hands stuffed in his pockets. “What’s that mean?”

Aran laughs, like he’s unsure if this is a serious question. “Well, I mean… they’re always asking for you whenever they get drunk like this.”

“I guess so, yeah.”

“That’s why you got here in record time, right?” Off Atsumu’s questioning gaze, Aran continues, “I called you five minutes ago, and your place is a fifteen-minute drive away. And you’re not in your pajamas, even though you said you’d change into them the moment you got home.”

“I was in the area,” Atsumu says weakly.

“Doing what?”

“Getting dinner.”

“Why didn’t you just get something delivered to your apartment?”

“Is it illegal to want to pick up the food myself?”

Aran raises his hands up in defence. “No, it’s not, but it’s also not illegal to say you knew this would happen,” he shrugs. “You knew they’d need you Atsumu, so you came. Nothing to be embarrassed about.”

Before Atsumu can force a response from his throat, Aran has already slipped back into the party, leaving Atsumu alone on the street. With an annoyed huff, he stomps to the driver’s side, muttering irked questions under his breath about what Aran could possibly mean. He opens the door with more aggression than necessary, only softening when he sees you stir underneath the jacket he’s draped over you to keep you warm.

He unlocks his phone when he feels a buzz in his pocket.

[00:30] Atsumu: are you still awake?

[00:48] Sakusa: Yes. Why?

Atsumu knows that your apartment’s farther from here than his, and he’s sure that by the time he arrives, Sakusa won’t answer the door because he’ll grow tired of Atsumu’s lack of response and go to bed.

The decision is made when he takes a right instead of a left, when he pulls into a parking lot that isn’t yours, when he carries your body up the stairwell and into his bed with ease.

Everything else comes as routine. He tucks the blanket under your chin, moves the glass of water so it’s too far for you to accidentally knock over in the morning, and leaves a change of clothes at the foot of the bed.

Atsumu likes routine. He likes the predictability of it all.

A groggy voice stops him from leaving the room.

“Tsumu?”

“Hey,” he whispers, crouching so he’s eye-level with you. “I hope you don’t mind I brought you back here.”

You blink sleepily at him, too inebriated and fatigued to acknowledge his words. “You’re a really good person, y’know,” you say languidly.

He smiles, amused. “Really?”

“Yeah. Thank you for picking me up.”

“It’s nothing,” he murmurs.

“It’s not.”

“I’m sure you would’ve been fine without me. Omi could’ve picked you up, couldn’t he? Samu could’ve, too.”

“I know, but you’re the one who always does,” you respond, nuzzling further into the pillow. “You’ve—you’ve helped me a lot.”

You shakily reach a hand to his face, playing with the strands of hair that fall to his forehead. He relaxes, eyelids growing heavy at the feeling of your featherlike touch against his cool skin.

“You’ve brightened up my life, I think,” your voice is muffled, but it rings in Atsumu’s ears clear as day, almost as loud as his quickening heart rate. “I appreciate you a lot more than you know.”

ii. Power

He watches with bated breath as the ball cuts through the air while gravity begins to pull Hinata back to Earth. Everything unfolds in slow motion; everything has faded into white noise.

With a slam, the volleyball connects with the ground, and it’s only when he’s pulled into a hug does the reverie shatter. Like being hauled out from underwater, the roars of the crowd flood his ears as Bokuto begins jumping on the balls of his feet and Hinata comes rushing over to them with a triumphant shout.

On the other side of Bokuto, Sakusa smiles, rolling his eyes fondly when Hinata and Bokuto begin making post-game plans to celebrate their victory. Atsumu, on the other hand, is uncharacteristically silent as he searches the bleachers with a cloudy look in his eyes.

He’s snapped out of it once again when Bokuto tugs on his wrist so they can go and listen to what their coach has to say.

Atsumu isn’t a stranger to winning — he used to get drunk on this sort of stuff, the exhilarating rush that shot through his veins after every successful game. He basks in the crowd’s excitement and admiration, because to be fawned over is the closest to love he’s ever been (if he could even call it that), but once the adrenaline cuts him off and he’s left alone in the locker room, it all fizzles out.

Something’s missing at the end of all this. Usually, the void in his chest is insignificant enough for him to brush off. However, today is different.

It’s abnormal for the power of the win to dwindle into nothingness only minutes after the game ends, but the blue moon has risen tonight, and now everything feels weird. The cheers aren’t enough to keep him from searching the gymnasium for a familiar face, and he itches to get to his phone in the locker room when he can’t find who he’s looking for.

“Why do you look like we’ve lost?” Bokuto asks. “C’mon, man! Smile! We just won! Aren’t you happy?”

“Of course I am,” Atsumu grunts.

(But…)

But.

The adrenaline shoots through him again when a voice he knows all too well catches his attention over the noise.

“Hey!” you rush towards them, dishevelled. “Before you get mad, I know I missed the game, I took a nap and slept through it, fuck, I am never going to stay up late playing Fortnite with you again, Tsumu, you’ve ruined my sleep schedule, but—” you huff, trying to catch your breath as you hand Atsumu a bag, “I’m sorry that I didn’t come. Congrats on winning, I heard the shouts from down the street.”

Atsumu smiles and peers into the bag. “What is this?”

“Mochi,” you answer. “A celebratory gift for my favourite setter.”

“I’m the only setter you know.”

“Which is why you’re my favourite.”

Atsumu snorts but hugs the bag to his chest, like it’s his most prized possession and he’d drag it along to the grave with him. “Thank you.”

If someone were to ask Atsumu if he liked the pedestal he’s put on after a match, he’d say yes. Of course he does. He quite likes it on top of the world.

But you match his joyful smile with one of your own and Atsumu finds himself rethinking his answer. “Anytime.”

The top of the world may be nice, but it is nothing compared to being on the ground next to you.

“You know what they say. With great power comes great responsibility.”

“Would you relax?” Sakusa snarls. “You’re in charge of us for a day. Get your head out of your ass.”

On the floor, Hinata lays like a starfish as he stares up at the ceiling, cheeks tainted a bright pink hue. “I think power’s gotten to your head.”

Atsumu waves him off. “I think this is the best practice we’ve ever had.”

Their captain had to run out five minutes into practice — relationship problems is what he grumbled to Atsumu before leaving him in charge without a second thought, much to the rest of the team’s dismay.

“I hope you’re never put it in charge again,” Bokuto complains before downing the rest of his water.

“Don’t be dramatic—”

“Do you know how gruelling this practice must be for Hinata to be tired?”

“Give us a break,” Hinata pleads, shifting his position so he’s on his knees. “Please. I’ll buy you lunch for the rest of the month if you end our suffering.”

Atsumu pretends to ponder the offer and grows more amused as Hinata begins to twitch nervously. “Okay, fine,” he relents.

Hinata cries with glee, hugging Atsumu’s legs before pushing himself off the floor and rushing out of the gymnasium — whether it’s to refill his water bottle or hide until he’s found, Atsumu may never know. With a snort, Atsumu grabs his own bottle amongst the rest on the bench, promising Bokuto absentmindedly that he’ll go easy on them for the rest of the day.

“I want to have at least a little energy left for the party at Kuroo’s tonight,” Bokuto adds, his smile widening when Atsumu nods in agreement. “See, I knew you’d get it!”

Sakusa takes a seat on the bench. “Are you going to the party, Miya?”

“Yeah, Y/N’s forcing me to come with,” Atsumu says. “How about you?”

Bokuto answers for him. “I’m making him come!” he exclaims. “You’ll have so much fun, Omi, you don’t have to worry.”

Sakusa deadpans, “I’m only staying for five minutes.”

Bokuto waves off his iciness with a flippant hand. “I’ll convince you to stay longer.”

“I really doubt that.”

“Don’t underestimate me!” Bokuto huffs. He turns away from Sakusa before he can continue to argue and focusses on Atsumu. “It’s good that you’re coming too, Tsum-Tsum! Maybe you can finally meet the guy Y/N’s going on a date with.”

Atsumu halts, hand tightening around his bottle. “What?”

“Some guy from their Psychology class asked them out a few days ago,” Bokuto says obliviously. “I think it was the night you picked them up? I don’t know. I think he was nice, though. Y/N probably already told you about it.”

You didn’t.

Atsumu forces a grin on his face. “Right, they did.”

Sakusa studies his expression with pinched eyebrows.

Atsumu’s cheeks hurt for the rest of practice, a consequence of the cheerful façade he’s plastered, but the pain subsides — if only for a moment — when he sees you outside the gymnasium, carrying your favourite boba drink in one hand, and his favourite in the other.

“Hey!” you greet, handing him the drink. “How was practice?”

“Awful,” Hinata mopes with a pout. “Your boyfriend here was running it like the navy.”

You frown. Atsumu blanches. “My boyfriend…?”

“Yeah!” Hinata slaps Atsumu on the back. “Him.”

All colour drains from your face. Your grip on your cup loosens for a split second before tightening it again in panic. You look from Hinata, the picture of innocence, to Atsumu, who only stares back, just as bewildered.

Hinata seems to take the hint as his eyes flicker between the two of you in confusion. “Sorry, I… I overheard Bokuto saying you were going on a date with someone, so I assumed—”

“Date?” you interrupt frantically, arms flapping to deny the words that have recklessly tumbled from Hinata’s mouth. “With who— with Atsumu? He’s not— we’re not— I’m not— we’re—”

“We’re friends,” Atsumu finishes, saving you from your stammering. You look at him gratefully, and he can only offer a weak smile in return. “I don’t know why you’d think we’re dating, Shoyo.”

“Sorry—”

“They’re going on a date with someone else.”

You narrow your eyes. “What do you—?”

“Oh, hey,” Sakusa says as he walks out of the doors. He tugs on the string of his mask to make sure it’s secure before nodding at you. “Did you stop by the grocery store yet?”

Atsumu’s words are long forgotten when realization engulfs your figure at the speed of light. “Oh, no! I took a nap and—”

“You really need to fix your sleep schedule.”

“I’ll have you know I slept four hours last night.”

“…That’s not a good thing.”

“It’s an hour more than usual.”

The genuine concern is evident in Sakusa’s eyes before he rubs his temples with a sigh. “Okay, whatever. Let’s go to the store before we head home, I need to buy more protein powder.”

“Ay, ay, captain.”

“Don’t call me that.”

You snicker then turn to Atsumu with a smile he’d move mountains for. “I’ll see you later, Tsumu?”

“Yeah, sure,” he murmurs. “Don’t take too long to get ready.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” you say, patting his cheek. “Thanks for agreeing to drive me there and back.”

He finds himself involuntarily leaning into your touch. “Don’t mention it.”

Your touch lingers for a second too long before you salute him in goodbye and rush to follow Sakusa to your car. Atsumu watches as your figure gets smaller and smaller, a smile on his face as you glance over your shoulder and stick your tongue out when you catch him staring.

He flips you off and makes sure to stick his tongue out, too, in hopes that it’ll make you laugh loud enough for him to hear.

(He doesn’t notice the mischievous glint in Sakusa’s eyes, nor does he catch his name slipping past Sakusa’s lips).

(But he does notice you tilt your head, lost in thought, before you look at him again, attempting to figure him out despite the distance.

He thinks nothing of it).

Just after his 9am lecture, someone asks Atsumu out on a date.

She’s nice and easy on the eyes; a little timid, but he supposes that’s just the affect he has on people. Big man on campus is what he’s always referred to as, until they realize that he’s nothing if not a goofball off-court. Still, the girl — Miwa is what she said her name was — doesn’t know that yet, so Atsumu gives her the benefit of the doubt.

And he says yes.

At 11:00, the whole team has caught wind of his evening plans, and Sakusa texts him to tell him he’s an idiot. Atsumu frowns, asks why, but Sakusa doesn’t reply.

At 6:00, an hour before his date, he shows up on your doorstep with a bag of clothes and a tie loose around his neck. His left pant leg is tucked into his sock and the other is haphazardly cuffed; his hair is all over the place, sticking up at the back as the result of a hair-gel disaster.

You stare at him with pinched eyebrows. “What do you need?”

“I’ve got a date,” he explains frantically. “I need your help.”

You hesitantly let him in.

At 6:15 is when the argument occurs. The reason why is something Atsumu can’t recall, only that it was something so small and insignificant that the argument shouldn’t have even happened in the first place. He thinks you may have been in a bad mood before he even arrived, but that doesn’t change the fact that you haven’t talked to him in the past five hours.

Oh, right. And the power goes out at 6:45.

He texts Miwa to cancel, promising to reschedule on a day where they won’t be talking to each other in the dark, but his phone dies before he gets a response. With a shrug, he tosses it onto the coffee table and makes a mental note to charge it as soon as the power comes back on, knowing full well that he’ll forget the reminder the second he makes it.

He should feel more guilty about the fact that he cares more about your absence than his postponed date.

Atsumu stares at your door for far too long before deciding that he’ll apologize to you — for what, he doesn’t know, but apologize first, ask questions later is his motto — once you’ve left your room. He’ll grovel and get on his knees and even humiliate himself if he has to, as long as it gets you to talk to him again, because God knows he’ll never survive this outage by himself.

(Also, you’re his best friend, and — Atsumu has never told anybody this — the last time you gave him the silent treatment, his chest physically hurt from not speaking to you that he vowed to never anger you again).

It’s 11:35, and you still haven’t left your room.

For the past few hours, you’ve been watching Netflix without headphones to torture a bored Atsumu, but the noises stopped about ten minutes ago, meaning your phone must’ve died too, so it’s only a matter of time before you leave your room in hopes of finding something to do.

Atsumu’s almost giddy at the thought.

At 11:50, he makes his move.

He hears the creaking of your door and your socked feet softly padding in the hallway. Atsumu’s always tried going to sleep early so he can hit the gym before it gets too busy the next morning, so you must’ve waited the latest you could bear with the assumption that he had fallen asleep on the couch.

Atsumu tiptoes to the end of the hallway, teeth bright compared to the darkness of the apartment, and his grin only widens when you finally see him.

You blink before scoffing, brushing past him to enter the kitchenette.

“Y/N,” he says, attempting to be stern but it comes off as a whine in his desperation. “Look at me.” You spare him a glance. Atsumu deems that’s good enough. “Listen, I’m sorry.”

He watches you open a cupboard and fill your glass with water. The seconds that pass by are agonizingly slow and Atsumu shifts uncomfortably when the silence drags on.

Finally, you look at him, unamused, and say, “What exactly are you sorry for?”

He purses his lips in thought. “Uh…”

Rolling your eyes, you turn to make your way back to your room.

“Wait! Wait,” Atsumu shouts, rushing over to block the exit. His eyes dart all over the kitchen in hopes the walls will have the answer to your question. You tap your foot impatiently, and it’s only when you go to open your mouth to tell him to move that he blurts out, “I’m sorry for eating the rest of your chocolate cake.”

You look at him incredulously. “That was you?”

“Yeah, I— wait, you’re not mad about that?”

“I am now!” you huff, using an arm to try and shove him out of the way, but he catches your wrist.

“Then I don’t get it!” he groans. “What did I do?”

You give him a once-over. “Well, what didn’t you do?”

“This is about the outfit?”

“You’ve cuffed your slacks, Tsumu. They’re cuffed. No sane person cuffs their slacks.”

He struggles to wrap his head around your response. “You’re mad,” he repeats, then gestures to his outfit confusedly, “about what I’m wearing.”

You seem to realize just how ridiculous it sounds uttered out loud, because you pout. “Not just that.”

“Then what else?”

You stumble over your words before you coherently state, “You’re going on a date.”

He frowns. “Yes.”

“You’re going on a date,” you say again when it’s obvious he’s not catching on to what you mean. When all Atsumu can manage is a perplexed sound, you add frustratedly, “You’re going on a date, which I don’t understand, since Sakusa told me that I didn’t need to worry anymore, but I guess he’s wrong because you came here asking for my help with looking nice on your night out with Miwa and—”

“Wait,” Atsumu interrupts, still puzzled. “What did Sakusa tell you?”

“He told me not to worry.”

“Worry about what?”

That snaps you out of it.

You open and close your mouth like a fish out of water. Then, you cross your arms over your chest, muttering out a response with feigned nonchalance, “Whatever.”

Atsumu protests, “Hey, I—”

“Where were you even going to take her?” you swiftly change the subject, and Atsumu decides that he’ll let it go — that’s what he’s been doing for a while, anyway, and another day really couldn’t hurt, could it?

“Dancing,” he says.

“Dancing?”

“Yes,” he responds, relaxing at the sight of your amusement. “I searched up unique date ideas and Google told me to take her dancing.”

“You should’ve just taken her to dinner,” you say. “Because you can’t dance.”

“That’s not true at all.”

“You were born with two left feet.”

“Quit lying, you’re only saying that because you’re mad at me.”

“I’m only telling you the truth!”

“I’m a good dancer!”

“You really aren’t. I thought that was established two weeks ago when we were playing Just Dance and you knocked over Aran’s vase.”

“That says nothing about my ability to—”

“Yes, it does.”

“I’ll prove it.”

“Yeah, okay, sure.”

“I’m serious,” he says, stretching his hand out for you to take.

You look at his palm and back up at him. “You’re kidding.”

“Not in any way, shape, or form.”

“We don’t even have music—”

“I’ll sing,” he shakes his hand. “C’mon, hurry up, my arm’s getting tired.”

Without a second thought, you interlace your fingers with his as he whisks you around the kitchen, his laugh loud when you yelp at his fast movements. He places his other hand on the small of your back to keep you from slipping on the tile as he leans to whisper into your ear.

“Any song requests?”

“None. You’re an awful singer,” you retort, bristling at the warmth of his breath.

“So, what are you saying? You’d rather waltz in silence?”

“Yes. And I wouldn’t even call this waltzing. We’re just sliding around the kitchen.”

“We’re waltzing,” Atsumu says firmly, daring you to argue. You only sigh, letting him pull you closer as you two clumsily move around the room. He sings your favourite song despite your insistence for him not to, humming the parts he doesn’t know and doing his best to hit every note.

You laugh into his chest, and he makes sure the sound is trapped in his ribcage so he’ll never have to go a day without it.

When the song reaches its end, you place your head on his shoulder, your breath piercing through his blazer and skin. “I’m sorry that I got mad at you,” you whisper despite the quiet, as if making your voice any louder will shatter the atmosphere. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“It’s okay,” he murmurs.

“It’s not, but thanks for trying to make me feel better,” you say timidly. “I guess I just got my hopes up.”

Atsumu tries to get the information out of you again, the very thing that’s been bothering you — and, as a result, him — for weeks. “About what?”

Your fingers tighten around his. “Nothing,” you answer, and if you notice just how much his posture deflates then you say nothing of it. “Can we stay like this for a little while?”

“Yeah, of course,” he says, rubbing circles onto the back of your hand. “We can stay for as long as you want.”

iii. Love

“You’re gonna get it in my eye!”

“Then stay still!”

“Just promise not to poke me.”

“I’ve already promised five times.”

“Then promise again!”

“Tsumu—” you sigh, slumping your shoulders as you meet his defiant gaze. “I promise I won’t get anything into your eyes or your mouth or your nostrils. Cross my heart and hope to die.”

Atsumu narrows his eyes. “For some reason that doesn’t make me feel much better.”

You groan. “We’ve been over this millions of times—”

“Sue me for thinking you’re still mad at me.”

“I told you—”

“Sakusa got into my head,” he explains for the umpteenth time that evening, “he keeps on saying I’ve done something wrong, but he won’t tell me what, and he keeps looking at me as if I’ve committed a felony. His face keeps me up at night, it’s the reason why I’ve had so many nightmares recently—”

“Sakusa’s being a nuisance. Trust me, you haven’t done anything wrong,” you assure, your voice echoing off the walls of your tiny bathroom. “You have nothing to worry about, so stop acting like I’m trying to kill you with this face mask.”

He stares pointedly at the tub sitting next to you on the sink. “It’s scarily green,” he whispers conspiratorially. “Like, it’s Hulk-green. Nothing should be that green.”

“If you’re implying it’s poisonous, it’s not.”

“That’s what they want you to think.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you grumble, spreading the mask across his cheeks, ignoring his murmured whines about how cold it feels on his skin. “You weren’t acting like this last time.”

“You were using a different face mask last time,” he rebuts. “I liked the other one better than this one.”

“Well, I’ll keep that in mind the next time I go to the store,” you hum. “Maybe I’ll even take you with me, so you can choose the face mask. It’ll save me from your complaining in the future.”

“You love my complaining,” he replies quickly. “But I really should. I’d make your grocery trips so much more fun.”

“You’d get us kick out.”

“Would not!” Atsumu scoffs when you don’t even bother to hide your unconvinced mien and places his hands on either side of the marble countertop, trapping you against him and the sink. “I’ll prove it this weekend.”

You shake your head. “I’m not going this weekend. The fall festival is on Saturday, remember? I’m holding off spending money this week so I can buy a ton of cotton candy without feeling guilty.”

“Really?” he snorts. “You’re not gonna get wasted this year?”

“Definitely not. Last year was a nightmare.”

“You don’t even remember what happened.”

“Exactly,” you say, smoothing out the mask. “And you’re always taking care of me when I’m drunk, it makes me feel bad.”

Despite his proximity, you don’t seem to feel the intensity of his stare. His demeanour has softened in the past five minutes, smiling warmly at the pinch between your brows and the way your lips have twisted into a focussed frown.

This has happened countless times before — on all the other self-care nights, Atsumu finds himself in the four walls of your bathroom, free to admire you all he wants without the company of his friends and their teasing remarks. Though he’d never admit it, he prefers the quiet, because here, the both of you aren’t brushing off comments made about your relationship; here, it’s just you and him, pressed against the bathroom sink, worries left behind on the other side of the door.

Here, it’s so peaceful that Atsumu believes, for a few short moments, that everything will be okay.

“Don’t feel bad,” he says breathily, dreading the moment when you finish and he’s forced to pull away. “I like taking care of you.”

“You’re required to do it because we’re friends.”

“No, I like doing it,” he says again, ingraining the statement into your brain so it’ll stay there forever. “You don’t see me letting Bokuto or Hinata — hell, even Suna, stay over at my apartment and sleep in my bed.”

You pause your movements, eyes flickering to his. “What does that make me then?”

“Huh?”

“Bokuto, Hinata, and Suna are your friends, but you don’t pick them up from parties and let them say the night at your place.”

“Well, that’s cause I can’t be bothered most of the time, since they’re usually going to on-campus parties and my place is so far from—”

“But you picked me up a few nights ago,” you interrupt, and Atsumu is drawn to the determination in your irises more than he wants to admit. “And a couple weeks ago too, I think. You’ve been picking me up before I even moved in with Sakusa, and my old place was thirty minutes away.”

“What are you saying, Y/N?”

“What am I to you, Atsumu?”

He grips the countertop so tightly his knuckles are as white as the marble. His heart drums against his ribcage, so loud in the cavity of his chest that he wonders if you can hear it too.

“You’re my friend.”

“Like Bokuto? Or Hinata, or Su—?”

“No, of course not,” he scoffs. Comparing yourself to them is absurd. “It’s diff— you’re different.”

“Different how?”

Suddenly, everything feels stuffy. Tension floods the room until he’s neck-deep in it and drowning, all while you stare up at him, awaiting an answer.

“I—”

Someone knocks loudly on the door.

“Hey!” Bokuto. “Is someone in here?”

You don’t answer. The ball is in Atsumu’s court.

There’s an answer that lingers in his mind, one that he wants to give you despite the risk that it could destroy everything he’s ever known. But as his hesitation grows, the ring buoy that is Bokuto’s voice becomes more tempting — something to save him from this situation where he’s flailing in hope and what-ifs. Something to save him from your want and his dread and all the other sharp objects that could slice your friendship in two.

(Aren’t you the one who’s always saying he should be more responsible?

Doing this is the most responsible thing he could do, isn’t it?)

“We’ll be right out,” he responds, and just as he replies, you pull away from him in defeat.

Everything in his body tightens.

You turn to wash your hands. Through the mirror, he can see you blink rapidly and clench your jaw.

When he finally goes to exit, Bokuto stands impatiently on the other side. His eyebrows rise when he spots the hairband keeping Atsumu’s blond strands out of his face.

“That’s cute,” Bokuto coos, poking at the heart that sticks out from the material.

“Thanks,” Atsumu says, adjusting the band and letting his fingers brush against the plush heart. “It’s Y/N’s.”

The sun had set a long time ago.

In its absence is the moon, its light barely sufficient to lead you and Atsumu home — home being his apartment, but you’ve been there so much it might as well be your own. It’s alright, though, he thinks; your arm is interlinked with his, and that’s all he’ll ever need to guide him.

Your hips bump his as you both walk down the sidewalk, the air a melody of your laughs as he retells a childhood story about him and Osamu. You fail to refrain the teasing comments that fall from your lips about how he’s always been a troublemaker, long before you ever met him.

“You’re supposed to be on my side,” he’d said a couple minutes ago. “Since I’m your favourite and everything.”

You smile, and every time you do so, the more he believes that the bathroom incident has been forgotten.

But Atsumu’s not stupid. He senses your discomfort — it’s miniscule, but it’s there, and deep down he knows it’s all because of what happened last night.

Every Tuesday, you wait for his evening lecture to finish before you both walk back to his place to watch a movie. Some nights you leave before the clock strikes ten, most nights you stay over. It’s a routine that’s been implemented since he first met you, and never once has it ever felt tense.

Atsumu itches to fix it.

“Hey,” he pipes up, hoping to avoid any uncomfortable lulls in conversation. “You never told me how your date went.”

“My date?”

“Yeah. Bokuto says some guy from your Psychology class asked you out.”

“What?”

“At the party.”

You crinkle your nose in thought before a light bulb goes off in your head. “Are you talking about Kuroo?”

Atsumu’s eyes may as well bulge out of the sockets with how much they’ve widened. “Kuroo asked you out?”

“No,” you say quickly. “Well, yes. But he didn’t mean it. He only did it to get someone to stop bothering him.”

Atsumu frowns. “Then why did Bokuto say—?”

“Bokuto was drunk,” you snicker. “Plus, you know how much of a lightweight he is, and Hinata just kept on giving him drinks, so you can imagine how that went.”

“Not good, probably.”

“Nope,” you say. “Just imagine everything that could’ve gone wrong then double it.”

“Did he puke on Akaashi?”

“Yeah, and on Kuroo too.”

“See, that’s why I never let him stay the night.”

Your smile wavers and he pinches himself for saying anything in the first place.

“That’s probably the only good idea you’ve ever had,” you eventually say, but your voice is weaker than you intend it to be.

Atsumu can’t find the energy to argue.

He allows himself to be pulled down the street, your footsteps hasty compared to how he tries to drag his feet along the cement. Atsumu assumes you want to get this night over with, to spend only an hour — maybe two — with him before bidding goodbye, and the thought causes an ugly feeling to root itself into the pit of his stomach.

The wind whistles in warning. He should’ve expected something like this.

All good things come to an end is something he’s heard far too many times to count, but Atsumu is nothing if not an optimist, and even so, he never thought a saying such as that could ever apply to his friendship with you. Despite the hardships, the two of you have always pulled through.

But the clouds begin to drift over the moon, hindering its light, and his stomach churns at what’s to come.

Your voice, disguised as a remedy to soothe his unease, carries him forward. “Listen, I think I’ll head home after the movie.”

He blinks. “What?”

“I just want to sleep in my own bed tonight, y’know?”

“You can sleep in mine,” he suggests, his tone bordering on a plea. You always sleep in mine. “I can sleep on the couch.”

“It’s okay, Tsumu,” you reply. “You’re probably tired of seeing me all the time, anyway.”

“I’m not,” he insists.

You give him a tight smile in response.

Atsumu’s always believed he was good with words. His voice has failed him before, sure, and it’s not like it’s a secret that sometimes his carelessness lands him in undesirable situations, but he’s usually so quick on his feet. He knows what to say, and if he doesn’t, he can crank up the charm until everyone in the vicinity begins to suffocate on his charisma.

Miya Atsumu is rarely ever speechless.

But then you started acting different, and suddenly he couldn’t decipher your expressions or predict your every move. You would dance with him in the kitchen and tenderly apply skincare products on his face, but no matter how much he pulled you close, you would drift further away. You’d open up before brushing everything off as if he had nothing to worry about.

It's like you haven’t been paying attention at all. If it involved you, Atsumu would always worry.

The question slips out of his mouth too quickly for him to control. “Are you ever gonna tell me what’s wrong?”

“What?”

He stops walking, and as a result, so do you. “Something’s been bothering you,” he says hoarsely. “And I was waiting it out because I thought you’d tell me, but… I feel like you never will.”

You lick your lips — to stall, he thinks, but doing so only spares you a second. “Do you have any guesses?”

“Huh?”

“You’re not an idiot,” you sigh. “You must have some idea.”

(And, perhaps, maybe a small part of him does. You’re his best friend, and he is yours, and you each earned that title by knowing the other like the moon knows the stars, like the stars know the sky, like the sky knows the sun.

He knows, you know he does. But this is irresponsible. It threatens everything).

“I don’t,” he lies.

“Atsumu,” you exhale, as if he’s entangled in your system, “do you really need me to say it?”

He doesn’t answer. You continue, anyway.

Three words are whispered into the dead of night, and the world tilts on its axis.

This was never part of the routine.

“Maybe I should just go home,” you murmur when he doesn’t speak. His fingers twitch, screaming at him to reach out for you as soon as you pull away. “I’ll see you when I see you.”

“Y/N—”

“Just let me go,” you say — you beg. “Please.”

His body screams, his nerves flare, but the messenger between his spinal cord and his brain fails to relay the message that he should do everything in his power to prevent you from leaving.

“Okay,” he responds. His voice sounds like it hasn’t been in use for years, tainted with defeat.

You turn to leave, and for the first time since you’ve met him, Atsumu doesn’t follow.

Atsumu’s moody, he has been for a while, and it doesn’t take long for everyone to realize it’s because of you.

Or, more specifically, the absence of you.

You’ve been spending more time by yourself than you have been with anyone else, cooped up in the safety of your bedroom and listening to — according to Sakusa — music that ranges from soft, heartbroken ballads, to hardcore fuck-you anthems. The lack of your presence is strange; you’ve always been a constant in Atsumu’s life, and to live without it leaves a lingering emptiness in his chest.

He'll catch glimpses of you sometimes on campus, and he feels, what he assumes to be, the same emotion people feel when they claim they’ve spotted Bigfoot.

For a moment, everything feels a little more bearable.

But then you disappear, leaving sorrow in your wake, and reality washes over him like an ice-cold bucket of water.

His moping is how he ends up tagging along with Bokuto and Hinata at the fall festival, trailing after them like an upset puppy while they frolic down the streets, gawking at all the stands and taste-testing every snack they come across. The plan was to have them cheer him up, to make him smile even if it’s only for a second, because when Atsumu is upset, it becomes everyone else’s problem.

Hinata offers him some funnel cake and Atsumu absentmindedly murmurs about how it’s your favourite. They all buy friendship bracelets and Atsumu buys one for you too because he knows how much you’d want one. They all clamber onto the carousel and Atsumu wonders if you’d fall off if you rode the horse.

Bokuto and Hinata get tired of it all eventually.

“He’s hopeless,” Bokuto cries when they reunite with Suna and Osamu. “He won’t stop whining.”

Atsumu opts for standing on his toes to look over the crowd in hopes of finding you instead of replying to his friend. His eyes drift first to the ring toss, then to the man selling cotton candy, then to the spinning teacups.

Nothing.

Osamu says something that finally catches his brother’s attention. “Well, Y/N’s not coming,” he waves his phone in the air, which is open on his message thread with you. “Said they were busy.”

Hinata huffs. “They’re only saying that cause Tsumu’s here.”

Bokuto slaps his arm. “Shoyo!”

“What? It’s true!” he exclaims defensively. “You know how they’re always on top of their assignments, I doubt they’re doing anything but watching TV and—”

“Yeah, but still, don’t say that! Isn’t Tsum-Tsum heartbroken enough?”

“I am not heartbroken,” Atsumu snarls.

Suna gives him a look. “Well…”

“I’m not!” he flails, frantically gesturing to himself to show that he’s perfectly fine. “I mean, yeah, am I a little upset? Yes. But heartbroken? You guys are just saying anything at this point, like—”

Osamu interrupts him before he can continue rambling and digging himself into a bigger hole. “What did you even do, anyway?”

The Miya twins are notorious on campus for their bickering, but Atsumu thought that in this situation, at least his own brother would be on his side. “What makes you think this is all my fault?”

Osamu raises an eyebrow, mocking and patronizing. “Well, for one—”

“If anything,” Atsumu continues, hurriedly cutting him off, “I should be the one avoiding them. Not that I’d want to, I’d never want to, obviously, but if we were getting technical then they should be the one worrying about me and not the other way around.”

Hinata speaks, mouth full of the last of his funnel cake. “Who says they don’t worry about you?”

“I— wait, what?”

“They’re always asking me and Shoyo about how you’re doing,” Bokuto chirps. “How screwed up could things be that you won’t talk to each other?”

Atsumu inhales, and he feels the world begin to collapse into him. Unsure of what to say, unsure of what to think, unsure if it’s fair of him to reach for his phone and hope you’ll answer his calls. He knows why the two of you have found yourselves here, standing on opposite sides of a field of regret and hurt. He knows, that in his attempt to dodge change, he blew something up in the process.

Suna tilts his head in question. “Atsumu. What happened?”

Atsumu exhales. “They told me that—” the words lodge themselves in his throat, unwilling to leave.

But they all understand.

“Huh,” Suna hums. “Didn’t think they had it in them.”

“What did you reply with?” Osamu asks.

Atsumu prepares himself for their rage. “Nothing.”

He’s met with silence. Then, incredulously, Suna asks, “Are you stupid?”

Osamu answers for him. “Chronically so.”

Atsumu doesn’t have the heart to respond to the jab, and the severity of the situation significantly increases.

Hinata bites the inside of his cheek in thought. “I think he’s broken.”

Bokuto leans forward to study Atsumu’s expression as much as he can before the latter waves him off. With a frown, Bokuto steps back and looks around the grounds, hoping to find something that’ll cheer Atsumu up and make tonight not a complete bust.

A tent, flashy and sparkly and enchanting, lures him in.

Osamu looks like he’s about to say something, but before he can utter a word, Bokuto tugs on Atsumu’s sleeve and drags him to the tent, ignoring his protests. “I have an idea,” he says reassuringly, but it does nothing to calm his friend. “Trust me on this.”

Atsumu snatches his arm back and rubs it as if Bokuto’s harmed him. He cranes his neck around to look at the sign just outside the tent, and scowls at the pink and yellow doodles on the chalkboard.

“This is a psychic.”

Bokuto nods vigorously. “Yes.”

“Your idea of cheering me up is having me scammed?”

Bokuto pouts. “You love stuff like this.”

He’s not wrong. If it were any other day, this place would be Atsumu’s first stop. He’d be the one begging people to join him despite the fact that he knows the consequences involve a dent in his bank account, but today, predictions of his future are the last thing on his mind. Today, convincing people to get their fortune read is the least of his desires, because you aren’t trying to convince people with him.

There’s no point being here without you.

Atsumu moves to get out of line.

“Hey, dude,” Bokuto whines and holds onto his arm to keep him in place. “Just give it a try. It can’t hurt, can it?”

“Boku—”

“It’ll be fun!” he says cheerily. “Maybe it’ll give you some insight on how to apologize to Y/N.”

Atsumu wants nothing more than to move — to leave — but Bokuto mastered the art of the puppy dog eyes long before he could talk, and the moment he flashes them Atsumu realizes he has no other choice but to stay.

When he steps into the tent, the atmosphere changes.

He tugs on the sleeves of his windbreaker when the autumn air threatens to pierce his skin, and reluctantly sits down on the chair across from the psychic. She eyes his every move, trying to figure out what type of customer he might be — someone who’s just doing this for fun, or someone who’s going through a rough patch, or someone who needs a stranger to light the path they need to walk down.

Atsumu fidgets in his seat.

“You’re here for a reading?”

A shrug and feigned indifference are what she receives as an answer. “Sure.”

His mask of nonchalance begins to slip when the reading starts, growing restless as he checks the time on his watch and calculating the probability of you still being awake. He glances over his shoulder, praying to whichever deity who’ll listen that Bokuto will come in and drag him out once he’s realized that this is the last thing Atsumu wants.

You are not here, and his body stings whenever the reminder worms its way into his mind.

His uneasiness must amuse the psychic, because when he finally looks back at her, she’s grinning, knotting his stomach in worry.

She asks him a dreadful question, made of nuts and bolts and things that rub salt in the wound of his heart.

What is it that you desire most, boy?

Atsumu freezes, plastering a confused smile on his face. “I’m sorry?”

“I’m sure you know. Is it strength?”

Definitely not, Atsumu wants to say. He’s more than capable enough to lift heavy boxes, he doesn’t have to take multiple trips to move things from point A to point B, he doesn’t struggle carrying his friends’ slump and inebriated bodies into a bed.

Atsumu is strong. He’s proved it during his frequent trips to the gym and by winning arm-wrestling contests. He wears the trait like a badge of honour, a reminder.

He does not need any more physical strength.

He checks his watch and wonders if you’ve brushed your teeth and dragged yourself to bed.

The psychic pushes. “Power?”

Atsumu briefly shakes his head, a movement so miniscule it’s a surprise the woman catches it.

It used to be such a thrill, the popularity that came with his volleyball reign. He used to ride that horse and sit in that throne with pride, he let the excitement course through him and, for a while, let himself believe the squeals that came with victory was interchangeable with love.

But power does not compare. He was foolish to believe nothing could beat the rush that came with the admiration — the shouts of his name in the bleachers, the ever-growing follower count, the people confessing their infatuation whenever they caught him alone.

They do not know who he is underneath the volleyball uniform. They don’t know that he likes to go to the diner after games and order a strawberry milkshake, or that his bottom drawer is filled to the brim with spare clothes for you, or that his favourite nights are spent with you applying a face mask to his skin.

They will never know him as much as you do.

The psychic leans forward. “Love?”

Atsumu clenches his jaw. Yes, would be the short answer, but to say that without an explanation would mean to lie, and he’s never been a good liar. Because Atsumu’s always been loved — not by the crowds or the student body — but by his friends, his family, you.

You gave your heart to him, and he noticed too late that the bleeding organ resided in the palm of his hand, cracked and yearning and brave. And after he realized this, he selfishly craved for more, even though he knew it scared him. He has been in relationships before, but none of them crossed the threshold of what truly mattered — the intimate conversations, the dances in the kitchen at midnight, the confessions murmured under the duvet.

So, perhaps, yes, Atsumu desires love, but the one thing he supposes he wants more is courage.

The psychic smiles. “Ah. Bingo. So—”

“Miya.”

Atsumu whips his head around to find Sakusa standing at the entrance, skillfully ignoring the protests behind him to get in line and wait his turn. Sakusa raises an eyebrow at the situation Atsumu’s found himself in, but saves him from his judgement to state, “Bokuto told me you were in here.”

“Excuse me,” the woman chirps. “We’re in the middle of something.”

“If you think a scam is what’ll solve your problems, then you’re stupider than I thought,” Sakusa says.

Atsumu sighs. “You came here just to tell me that?”

“Well, yeah,” Sakusa shrugs. “There’s a simpler solution to all of this.”

“Okay, well—”

“Talk to them,” Sakusa interrupts, exhausted. “Before they give up.”

Atsumu kisses his teeth, changing his position in his chair so he’s fully facing Sakusa. “Since when were you the type to give advice?”

Sakusa ignores his retort with a shake of his head and a roll of his eyes.

“I have never seen you cower before, Miya,” Sakusa says, and the words are like needles on his skin. “Don’t let the first time you do so be now.”

Atsumu inhales shakily. “I don’t—”

“They got Hinge a few days ago,” Sakusa deadpans. Atsumu stiffens. “Don’t lose to some hack they found on a dating app.”

Atsumu looks from his friend to the clairvoyant before flashing her a sheepish smile and shooting clumsily out of his chair. The words that tumble from his mouth are barely coherent, and the last thing he hears before he exits the tent is Sakusa mumbling moron under his breath.

The journey from the festival to your apartment is a blur. He vaguely recalls running past his friends and returning their questioning shouts with a wave of his hand and getting angry at least two cars who cut him on the road, before he ends up in front of your door, nose tinged red from the cold.

His knocks are insistent.

“I’m coming, God, be patient,” he hears you say before you open the door to see him, and your annoyance is wiped away in seconds.

“Hi,” he says, out of breath from running up three flights of stairs after he got impatient waiting for the elevator. His eyes land on the blanket you’ve wrapped over your shoulders, and his lips quirk up at the familiar pattern. “Didn’t I get you that?”

You tug on the material defensively. “What are you doing here?” you ask. “And what the hell are you wearing? Did you not look at the weather before you left the house? It’s freezing outside, you idiot, you should be wearing a thicker jacket. And your face is so red! And your hands! They’re gonna get all dry if you don’t wear gloves! How many times do I have to tell you to dress for the weather otherwise you’ll get sick and…”

Atsumu rasps, “And?”

You gulp, taking a step back to distance yourself. “And you shouldn’t be here,” you say, sending a knife to his chest. “I thought you were at the festival.”

“That’s why you didn’t come,” he concludes. “Because I was there.”

“Well, what do you expect me to do?” you snap. “I told you I loved you and you looked at me like I was crazy.”

“I didn’t.”

“Whatever,” you bark. “My point still stands. You shouldn’t be here.”

He nods. “I know.”

“Then why are you?”

Eight letters are whispered into the darkness of the entryway, and the world is thrown off-balance.

“I love you,” he says, surprising himself with just how easy the words escape after he lets them, “and I’m so, so sorry.”

Your lips part in surprise. “What?”

“I love you,” he repeats. “And I should’ve told you sooner, but I— I was scared—”

“Then why are you telling me now?”

“I don’t know,” he whispers. “Love conquers all, I guess. My fear included.”

“You came all the way here to tell me that?”

He risks a step towards you and his heart flutters when you don’t move away. “I ran out of a psychic’s tent, too.”

“What?”

“I’ll tell you later,” he murmurs. “That’s not important right now.”

“It sounds pretty important, I mean, you mentioned it and everything.”

“It’s not.”

“What exactly is more important than that?”

“Your forgiveness, actually.”

You huff. “Believe it or not, forgiveness doesn’t come so easily, Atsumu.”

“Can I kiss you, then?” he questions innocently, placing a hand against your cheek. “Will you take that as an apology?”

You still, licking your lips as you try to maintain your defiant stance. “…That won’t work every time you make me mad, you know.”

He tries his best not to smirk. “Is that a yes?”

“I hate you.”

He lets his lips hover over yours, and he’s not sure if the loud heartbeat ringing in his ears is his or yours (or maybe a mixture of both). “Is that yes?” he asks again, searching your eyes for any signs of discomfort.

Your eyes flicker to his mouth and then you mumble, “Yes.”

Atsumu pinches himself before capturing his lips with yours, eager and desperate, to kiss you with enough pent-up want and need to cause you to stumble. He’s gentle in the way he cradles your face, as if the world has found itself in his hands, still beautiful despite how much he’s hurt it.

He’ll make up for hurting you later, but for now he’ll allow himself to be selfish.

I love you, he whispers into your mouth, and you capture the confession with your own and let it live in your beating heart.

I love you, he whispers into your neck as you both stumble into the kitchen, making sure to tattoo the words into your skin so you’ll never forget.

“I love you,” he whispers one last time as the blanket covers you both and he’s sure you’ve lulled to sleep with your ear against his chest and his thumb drawing hearts on your shoulder, “so, so much.”

Slumber takes over you both, blanketing your smiling figures with hope and love.

#atsumu #miya atsumu #hq #haikyuu #atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #atsumu fluff #miya atsumu fluff #haikyuu fluff #hq fluff #atsumu angst #miya atsumu angst #haikyuu angst #hq angst #fic: miya atsumu and the chronic lovesick disease

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am-i-interrupting · 11 months ago

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Can I get Alastor reacting to his fem!pregnant S/O asking if they can name their daughter after his mother? Since he's such a momma's boy, I think it'd be cute if she brought it up as a way of expressing appreciation for helping him become the sweetheart he is today (to her at least-)

Momma’s Baby Boy, Daddy’s Little Lady

You’d been throwing pasta at a wall and none of it was sticking. Of course, that wasn’t in the literal sense and much more metaphorical.

It’d been six months since you’d found out you were pregnant and you were a bit more than seven months along now. You didn’t need to worry about much else. You’re darling, doting husband had made sure you didn’t have to do a single thing you didn’t want to. Well, even when you wanted to, depending on what it was, he could still be stubborn about it.

The only thing you really had to worry about at this point was a name. You’d looked through news papers, phone books, even asked people their name ideas and nothing. Not a single thing seemed right.

You were at home, looking through photographs to hang in the nursery when you saw a picture of baby Alastor and his mother. They were so cute together, cheeks pressed against one another as they both smiled for the camera.

That’s when it hit you. Her name! His mother’s name would be perfect.

Alastor came home not long after, you were still giddy over your realization.

You turned to him with a big grin. He immediately raised an eyebrow as he shrugged off his coat. “I know that face,” he said. “What is it?”

“I know her name,” you said.

“Her? What happened to their?” Alastor asked. A valid question as you actually didn’t know the gender the baby would be.

“I just know it,” you said. “The name’s too perfect for it not to be a girl. I can feel it in my bones, Alastor.”

“Mmm, well, can you not crush my own?” he asked.

It was then you realized you’d taken hold of his hands and the fingers were turning pale from how hard you were squeezing them.

“Oh, sorry.”

“Let’s save that for the delivery room, shall we?”

You rolled your eyes. “Im not going to break your hand.”

“I’ve heard horror stories. It’s a possibility,” he said. He then brushed your hair out of your face, “But you were saying about a name?”

“Yes! Right.” You took a deep, steadying breath before you said, “What about your mother’s name?”

Alastor’s smile faltered, “My mother’s?”

“Yes.”

“I— Well, darling, dear, I— that is perfect, you’re correct,” he said with a bit of a strain to his voice.

“Aren’t I always?”

He placed his hands on your protruding stomach and rubbed it gently. He knelt down and placed a kiss to it. He got a kick in return as the baby moved to settle right beneath your ribs causing you to grimace.

“Oh, she’s gonna love her daddy more than her mommy,” you said.

Alastor chucked as he stood. “We shall see, my dear, on both accounts.”

You were right, of course. On all accounts. You didn’t break Alastor’s hand in the delivery room. The baby was a darling little girl. She did end up favoring her father more.

#hazbin alastor x reader #alastor x reader

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neopolart · 3 months ago

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Hello! I loved the SMAU you did with the boys, my heart is weak for drama/angst, and the Xavier part? Delicious

So, i read your rules but if my ask makes you uncomfortable i absolutely understand!! Can you do pegging with Xavier and Zayne? The only contents i found with pegging had just Rafayel and Sylus 😭

Pegging - Scenario Love and Deepspace

Warnings : Sexual themes.

Genre : Smut

Characters : Zayne and Xavier

Gender : Female.

Word count : 2k

Notes : Hello!! I am absolutely happy to know you liked my writing!!! Angst with comfort are my favorite genres, ngl. Thank you so much for your request and your kind words, i hope you like it too!! I assumed the MC would be female, but if is not please let me know!!

Growing up, Zayne knew you had strange ideas or tendecies.

After knowing you for so long, how could he not ? From your strange jokes that only you laugh, to the pointless questions that only made him sigh in exasperation. Yet, nothing really prepared him from your request after his long shift at the hospital.

'You know,' he hears you mumbling. He was changing clothes, his muscles sore and screaming in pain after the emergency surgery he had to undergo. 'I know this may be the worst moment to bring this up, since you are very tired and definitely need to sleep, but...' Your hands help him to take off his coat, your hands squeezing the sore muscles on his shoulder 'You always said i could always speak to ou about anything, especially if involves a new kink..."

He turns his head to look at you from the corner of his eye, his eyebrow arching slightly, waiting for you to continue.

'I wanna peg you'

'...Peg me?'

'You know what pegging means, right?

'I am familiar with the term, yes. I know it took a lot of courage for you to bring this up, and i promise i wont forget this subject, but can we talk about this tomorrow?'

'Of course, im sorry, i was so anxious to talk about that-'

After that, he had his very needed night of sleep and brought up the conversation again in the next day. It was merely to talk about where the idea came from, precautions and safety, after all, he was never the one to deny your requests without even trying before - especially if that involved a new kink.

'Talking from a point of view of a doctor, i would need a few days to prepare myself for that' he stated, his back turned towards you as he focus on washing the dishes 'Just as it can be pleasurable, it can also be extremely painful without proper preparation. '

And that is how he found himself on this situation. After he spend days using his own finger to stretch himself, he was now laying on his back with his legs draped overyour hips. There was a thin layer of sweat on his naked body, his cock completely hard and dripping precum on your hand.

"You look so beautiful right now..." You say, stroking his shaft slowly and with a firm pressure.

The strap-on you were using was slim, pink silicone with not more than five inches, enough to give him pleasure without causing any harm, and was covered with lube. His body was completely relaxed and, as soon as he nod to you, you finally press the tip against the tight ring of muscles, carefully to not hurt him. Thankfully the preparations he had done to himself had maken easy for you to fill him, his face, always so composed and neutral, writhing slightly in a mix of pleasure and pain, his body tensing up. You only stopped when the entire lenght of the dildo were inside of him.

When he finally relaxed completely, you started to move. His sweet grunts of pleasure echoing in the room, your skin slapping against his as you start to fuck him, trying to remember how he used to fuck you against the matress.

"Come on pretty boy" you whisper, your breath hot against the crook of his neck, his body shaking from the movements. Never before you wished so bad to have a cock, imagining how warm and tight he would be around you. "I need to hear your sweet sounds, to know how good i am making you feel"

He whimpered softly, feeling your breasts sliding in his chest with every movement you make, your hand on his cock making his brain tingle with hot, raw pleasure. Is that how you felt when he was fucking you? That burning feeling of pleasure that barely fits in your body? He could feel every inch rubbing against his interior, hitting perfectly his prostate.

"P-Please..." his voice was shy, trembling as he tried to compose himself, trying not to fall apart from how good it was.

You kissed a trail from his jaw line til his collarbone, sucking his skin until a purple mark appeared, your hand stroking his shaft even faster, completely wet with the pearly liquid of his precum. He was falling apart faster than before as you whispered praises on his ear, his moans and whines now leaving his lips as a second nature for him, his arms wraping against your neck and pulling you closelly, capturing your lips against his own and kissing you desperately, the wet sound of your lips mixing with his moans and slapping sounds. Would you receive noise complaints from neighbors? Definitely.

As his moans and grunts grew louder against your lips, you put a lot more effort, ignoring the burning sensation on your muscles, your hand stroking his cock fervently. Pulling apart from the kiss, you watch how the silicone dildo fucked his way inside Zayne, his puckered hole stretched around the toy, almostr trying to pull you more deeper inside of him.

It only took you a few more thrusts till he finally came with a deep and hoarse moan, the whitish and viscous liquid wetting your hand, some splashing on his stomach, painting it white. You milked his cock with a few more pumps until nothing else comes out, his glans red and his cock wet with cum.

You pulled out of him, throwing the strap-on away. Quickly you cleaned up your own slick from your tights and the cum from his stomach before laying on his side, chuckling as he wraped his arms around you, hiding his face on your neck.

"Did you enjoy it?" You asked curiously, your fingers stroke his hair carefully.

"...Maybe we can try it a few more times, if im not required on the hospital." You grin listening to his hoarse voice, knowing that it was the aftermath of the pleasure he received.

"Do your legs feel limp and wobbly?"

"Yes." he whispered, his ears turning red with embarassment.

It wasn't a secret for Xavier that you always had a liking for his ass.

When he bended over to pick up something, change clothes, take a shower or even with his sweatpants, you eyes always seems to roam or your hands found a way to squeeze him, so, when you told him you wanted to peg him, it wasnt a surprise at all.

'Xav' you started, laying next to him on the couch, your legs resting on top of his thighs 'I realized we never really talked about our kinks and things we liked on the bed'

'Hm, what is the motivation all of the sudden?' he asked, his voice soft as always.

'So, i was scrolling through my phone and i found something very interesting--'

'Yes i'll let you peg me'

'Its something called pegging and-- excuse me?'

'I knew you could end up liking this kind of thing, so i jumped ahead and read about that. Already bought the toys and prepared myself.'

'H-How did you even know?' he smiles lazily as you tries to hide your face in embarassment. How could he know? Weren't you being careful?

'With how much you make jokes about eating me out or breeding me' he chuckles with your whine 'It was obvious how you felt' he stared at you lovingly. 'That and the porn site on your unlocked cell phone with the tag pegging showing on the search bar-'

And when you asked oficially, he said yes again. After all, who he was to deny such a sweet request from his beloved? Yet, it didnt help with how anxious he felt when the time come.

He was on his stomach, his ass up to your direction. His breath became a little more faster as he felt your weight on the matress, right behind him. That is how you felt the first time you two sleept together? This knot on your stomach?. Your hands roamed around his body, carresing the curve of his abdomen and chest, your touch tender and kindy, easing the tension from his muscles.

"Are you nervous?" you ask, kissing his back softly, seeing his eyes darting around nervously. "It's not too late to refuse, you know? We can take a good shower, eat a few snacks and sleep"

"N-No!" He said quickly before taking a deep breath "I want this, i promise.

He looks at you from the corner of his eye, half his face hidden against the pillow. His eyes burned with desire, showing how needy he was at that moment. Your gaze searched a sign of hesitation or disconfort in his face before you give him a reassuring smile, positioning yourself behind him while pouring lube on the strap-on and massaging the circunference of the silicone until it is completely wet, pressing the tip against his hole. Your hands roam his body, caressing the warm skin before stopping on his ass, squeezing the plump flesh of his cheeks, watching his once white skin turning red before you spread them, exposing his puckered hole before you pressed the tipagainst him, watching as the dildo force his way inside him, stretching him to fit its entire lenght.

You pay attention to his body and, as soon as he relaxes, you hold his waist with one hand and the other goes under him, starting to stroke his hard cock as your hips begin to move, the dildo going in and out of him.

His back arched as soon as you hit his prostate and, unable to control himself anymore, his hips started to move, meeting your with fierce, his face contorting against the pillow and muffled moans leaving his parted lips.

You kissed his back, your breasts pressing agains his hot skin and thumb pessing his glans, feeling how wet it was from his precum. You started to suck his back and shoulders, leaving a few marks behind, making the man under you to whimper softly. You wanted him to look in the mirror and remember how you fucked him so good. You wish you could leave marks on his neck as well, but unfortunately you didn't want the attention of the Association staff.

The noises were growing louder each moment, his back arching even more with how good it felt, being fucked mercilessly, the pleasure numbing his mind, everything he could think was how deep you were inside of him, his body shaking with how hard you were hitting his prostate, his cock pulsing against your hand, hard and wet, begging for release. He tried to bite the pillow to muffle his moans, but your whine on his ear quickly made him stop.

"Such a good boy f'me" you praised him, your breath hot against his shoulder, his skin covered in sweat "My precious bunny, aren't you?"

"F-For you ngh" his voice was hoarse from all the moans and cries of pleasure, his eyes glowing with tears "so good aah"

The sensation of the silicone pressing his sensitive walls combined with your strokes on his hard shaft threatened to send him over the edge earlier then he wanted to, his stomach tensing and twisting, urging him to let go. The tears ran down his face, some falling on the pillow and mixing with his drool.

Your fingers dig into his waist, bruising his flesh with your nails. After a few thrusts you feel his body shake, a hoarse growl leaving his lips and your hand getting sticky when he finally cums, his eyes completely rolled back in ecstasy. You thrusted inside him slowly, milking him to the last drop during his post orgasmic wave. When he finaly calmed dow, you kissed his spine softly, watching proudly the amount of hickeys you left on his body. You pulled out of him, quickly cleaning his body and bringing him a cold glass of water to cool down his sore throat.

"That was fun, we should do it again another time" Your words sent shivers down his spine, his gaze turned to you, a small smile forming on his face.

"Yeah... We should"

#lads x reader #love and deepspace x reader #xavier x reader #xavier x mc #xavier x you #zayne x reader #zayne x mc #zayne x you #love and deepspace headcanons #love and deepspace #lads x mc #lads x you #xavier love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #love and deepspace scenario #smut

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ghostgirl-22 · 2 months ago

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Art deciding he wants to prove he can do more than just hit a ball with a stick so he decides to go to online medical school and hes practicing on patrick, doing all the routine ones,touching each other all over, soft spoken and intimate, putting sticks on their tongue like a slow burn leading up til he has to do a prostate exam, theyre practicing everything on each other. Art cant find pats prostate and he helps him, its all very awkward and sweet, after patrick says he can show art where to find it as he has more experience with men, so he gets art on his back

"This isnt even the correct position patrick" "do you want help or not? Im just showing you where it is"

Theyre so gentle with each other and patrick gently slides his fingers inside art, curling up into his prostate "you see there, you feel that?"

I thank you anon for this prompt. Sorry it took me so long. I took tons of liberties. Rearranged it in my head a lot. Also didn’t proofread much at all. Also it probably gets too into the weeds on the medical office stuff but we have fun 🤗

CW: 18+ !NSFW!

—-

I’m going with Art’s uncle is a urologist and Patrick and Art are staying with him over a college break and he hires both Art and Patrick as “medical assistants” to help him with stuff in his office. So they’re messing around all summer, cleaning the exam rooms in between patients, scheduling appointments. Art is vaguely interested in studying medicine, Patrick is mostly bored by all of it except when they’re messing around with the office tools and Art’s pretending to do exams on Patrick whenever they get a free minute.

It’s oddly erotic. Patrick’s sitting on the exam table swinging his feet while Art tells him to open his mouth, wide, wider. Art’s standing too close, pushing the tongue depressor onto Patrick’s tongue, light shining in Patrick’s mouth. “Can you open wider?” Art whines anxiously, “I think I see something.”

Patrick opens as wide as he can. Art is so close, lips parted, eyes shiny, looking deep into Patrick’s mouth. Patrick squeezes his hands between his thighs. Getting hard for this is so ridiculously and pathetically down bad.

Art pulls the tongue depressor out. “I think you have strep throat,” He says, grinning.

“That’s the third time this week,” Patrick smirks.

Art puts the tongue depressor in his own mouth and starts chewing on it. He does stuff like that all the time. Putting stuff in his mouth after it’s already been in Patrick’s. It makes Patrick crazy. Art rubs Patrick’s knee idly and then picks up the reflex hammer. “Don’t kick me,” he says.

“Don’t hit me then,” Patrick says.

Art ignores him and swings the hammer at Patrick’s knee anyway just to watch him reflexively twitch. “Okay I guess you’re alive,” Art says.

“Is that your final diagnosis?” Patrick pulls at the tongue depressor and Art opens his mouth to let Patrick take it.

Art looks around for the stethoscope. “Better check your heart, just to be sure.”

Art’s uncle takes Art’s med school aspirations much more seriously than Patrick does. “You boys want to sit in on my next patient?” He asks, interrupting them.

“Yes please!” Art says excitedly.

Patrick doesn’t love watching Art’s uncle give prostate exams to a bunch of vaguely homophobic geriatric men but it does help break up the day. The next patient is relatively young though. He looks like he’s not even 40 years old and he’s actually kind of really hot. Patrick’s curious about why someone so young (and hot) would need to see a doctor like this.

“This is my nephew and his friend, he’s premed at Stanford. Do you mind having them sit in?” Art’s Uncle asks.

“Yeah, sure,” the guy shrugs and smiles at them, like he could care less. Art’s uncle shuts the door of the exam room and starts asking him questions, and the guy is talking about how he’s afraid his prostate is swollen because of how he’s felt. “I was actually having sex with my boyfriend and he started to get worried because of how large it felt.” The guys says.

Art and Patrick exchange glances. Patrick doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to the way people will just blurt all their personal information in here. Art’s uncle doesn’t miss a beat though. “Is it painful?” He asks.

“No that’s the thing doc it feels really good, I end up having so many orgasms, once three times in a row,” the guy says. “But I’m just scared that it’s not normal?”

“Well that is normal, prostate stimulation can feel good and does often lead to ejaculation.” Art’s uncle says clinically, he’s distractedly typing away on the computer. “How about frequency? Have you had to pee a lot?”

”Not any more than normal, no.”

“Alright, well lets get it checked out for you. Take down your pants,” Art’s uncle says professionally. Patrick presses his lips together and looks up at the ceiling as the guy starts to undo his pants. He really is too attractive. Patrick knows now he could never do this job, the idea of a really hot guy walking in and not being able to flirt is just devastating to him.

He chances a glance at Art and he’s just watching the patient undress, a little bit of color in his cheeks. Patrick wonders if it’s because he’s embarrassed or if it’s because he’s aroused. Or both. Knowing him probably both.

Thankfully Art’s uncle is just talking generally about various conditions that usually don’t affect young men as a distraction so it doesn’t feel awkward in the room. The patient bends over the exam table and Patrick considers bolting from the room but he knows that would make him seem even more awkward. He balances on the balls of his feet hoping there’s no way anyone can tell that he’s got a chubby.

“Yep it feels healthy,” Art’s uncle says as the man sort of moans a bit. Patrick swallows.

“I’m sorry doc,” the patient says quickly.

“It’s no problem, happens all the time,” Art’s uncle says, taking his gloves off and tossing them in the trash. “Yours is just a little large, but seems to be perfectly healthy and functioning normally.”

”So it’s okay to— that it feels so— so good?”

Art’s uncle just laughs. “Yes, enjoy it,” he says with a wink. “And just come back to see me if there’s ever any pain.” He adds as he washes his hands.

“Oh I will, thank you,” The guy says, letting out a sigh of relief.

”Come on boys, let’s let him get dressed,” Art’s Uncle ushers them out of the room. He goes straight to a hallway computer to continue typing notes. His actual medical assistant is triaging another patient.

Art’s chewing on his bottom lip. Patrick’s trying to recover from the whole… thing. He’s not ever thought of prostates outside of old guys and dumb jokes. Never even considered the idea that it feels that good. The hot guy leaves the exam room a moment later and offers them a warm smile. He then goes to the front to take care of his bill.

“Lighten up boys, there’s all kinds of lifestyles, we don’t judge in here” Art’s uncle says, patting them on the shoulders. “Clean up the exam room and then you can take lunch.”

”Uh okay,” Art says.

“Yeah,” Patrick says, distractedly. They go back in the room and Art tears off the wrinkled exam paper from the bed and pulls some fresh paper down.

“You know what’s crazy?” Patrick asks him.

“What?” Art says, crinkling up the old paper and putting it in the trash.

“I don’t even think I know where my prostate is,” Patrick says.

“You don’t?” Art asks, pulling his gloves off and dropping those in the trash can too.

“No but I mean… could you imagine? Like what that guy was saying. Three times in a row. I could jerk off a thousand hours and never… you know…”

Art laughs a little. “Yeah, that’s um… that’s crazy.”

“Yeah,” Patrick agrees. They’re quiet for a minute.

Art takes a breath and then goes to the sink and washes his hands. “Maybe…” he says and then trails off.

”What?” Patrick asks, he picks up the disinfectant cleaner.

“Maybe I could find it for you?”

Patrick raises his eyebrows. “Seriously?”l

“What? I mean— you see how fast my uncle does it? It’s probably easy.”

Patrick laughs.

“Come on, seriously, be my patient,” Art says, determinedly. He pulls on a new pair of gloves. Patrick takes a breath, remembering he’s still mildly aroused but he decides to play along anyway. If Art really wants to be a doctor he’s gonna have to get used to bodies being in all kinds of weird states. That guy had definitely moaned, Patrick hadn’t made that up and he’d definitely almost touched himself because of it.

“Okay Dr. Donaldson,” Patrick says smiling as he starts undoing his slacks. He rubs the outline of his dick idly through his boxers.

Arts chewing on his bottom lip, watching Patrick, his eyes linger on the place where Patrick was rubbing and he shifts on his feet, antsy. “You’re not supposed to be…to be hard,” Art says quietly.

“Sorry, I think that last patient was my type,” Patrick says, smirking and rubbing it one more time just to watch Art squirm.

“That’s so… so beyond fucked up,” Art says, softly.

“Well I didn’t do anything, and whatever just revoke my license then,” Patrick shrugs with a grin.

Art shakes his head, a little smile on his lips. “Be serious okay um—- I think my uncle uses some kinda… this,” Art pumps some liquid out of an industrial container of lubricant. “Okay um… bend over,” he says lightly. But it doesn’t feel light at all. It feels… loaded. Like all the years they’ve spent dancing around a quiet longing are now simmering just below the surface.

Patrick eases his boxers down exposing his ass and he rests his elbows on the exam table. He can hear Art breathing in his ear, this hot feather light sound. He feels the cold, wet of the lubricant and Arts fingers behind the gloves and he shivers. Arts pressing into him. Patrick holds his breath, the intrusion isn’t completely unpleasant. Arts using two fingers, snaking them around.

“Can you feel it?” Art asks, breathlessly.

“I mean, I feel your fingers,” Patrick says, lightly. “Do you feel my prostate?”

“Um…” Arts starts pushing deeper. “Do you know what it feels like?”

“Well no,” Patrick says, “you said you could find it. He’s your uncle. This is your legacy after all.”

“I can find it,” Art says. “But this isn’t my legacy. I want to be a cardiologist.”

“Tomayto, tomahto… oh—wait oh—Art,” Patrick breathes. “What was that—“

“Here?” Art asks, excitedly. And Patrick sees stars for how sensitive it feels.

“Oh fuck,” Patrick groans as Art rubs his fingertips along it. Patrick’s dick reacts immediately by filling out.

“I wish I could see it, it feels… different…” Arts voice is pitchy. He won’t stop rubbing it.

“Fuck, fuck… Art. Oh my fuck… take it easy, sweetheart,” Patrick gasps.

Art takes a breath and eases his fingers out.

“Shit,” Patrick whispers. “I didn’t mean you had to stop.”

“Patrick,” Art says quietly.

“What?”

“Please, Patrick, can you find mine?” His gaze is dark, his skin flushed and he looks so needy. And yeah… yeah okay. Patrick would probably give him anything right now.

He licks his lips and nods. He’s so horny he’s not exactly clinical about it, doesn’t even bother with the gloves, just wets his fingers as Art presents himself and presses them deep inside the heat of him. Art is clenching around him immediately. Patrick starts scissoring his fingers back and forth listening to the delicate sound of Art catching his breath.

Patrick searches for what he was feeling when Art was doing it and lands on something smooth. He rubs his fingertips along it gently and slowly Art begins to moan.

“That’s it,” Patrick whispers. “Feels so fucking good, doesn’t it?” He pumps his fingers in and out, sliding them along the smooth muscle.

“Oh my god, ohmygod Patrick,” Art cries. He’s pitched so much higher than usual it makes Patrick’s teeth ache. He takes his free hand and starts stroking himself, all the while playing his fingers along Art’s prostate.

“Mm, my god,” Art sighs a litany, lying across the exam table, moaning and pushing back.

He’s so selfish, Patrick thinks, amused. He saw how good it felt and stopped fucking Patrick two strokes in because he just needed to have it for himself. And Patrick’s stomach hurts because he just loves that about him. That and he’s addicted to the way Art’s voice sounds right now… moaning so much that if the rooms aren’t soundproof… which Patrick is almost certain they aren’t…then they’re entirely fucked.

“Oh… oh Patrick I’m fucking…. Oh no… no. Oh shit,” Art cries and then he’s wetting up the table, ribbons of it spilling everywhere while he’s clenching on Patrick fingers, in deliciously tight spasms. “I did it on—I made a— a mess….” he groans breathlessly. Patrick still has his fingers inside because he’s kinda curious if he can make him come again. Art is just shivering for it.

”Patrick,” he whines.

“Yeah?” Patrick breathes. “Just relax, baby. It’s okay. You’re just making me crazy baby. Wanna fuck you.”

”Fuck,” Art groans.

“God. I really wanna fuck you.” Patrick whispers up against his throat. “I just wanna push my dick in here instead and fuck the shit outta you.”

“Oh fuck,” Art cries out again. More starts spilling out of him and Patrick just thinks, fuck it.

He slides his fingers out and Art is leaning heavy on him, pressed up against him with all his weight… he lets out a startled sound when Patrick presses the head of his dick right up against Art’s entrance.

“Patrick, wait,” Art says, a slight tremor in his voice, Patrick kisses the back of his neck and he settles down almost instantly. Patrick presses just a little more and hears the smallest little intake of breath. There’s barely any give there, his fingers are one thing but his dick is…Patrick has to wait for that. Art is so fucking virgin tight it makes Patrick want to scream. He’s had so many dirty dreams about this.

“God Patrick,” Art says, he sounds scared and turned on at the same time. His voice all airy. “You gonna— you wanna— fuck me s-so bad huh?” He whispers, his voice breaking a bit when Patrick presses in just the tiniest bit more. Patrick lifts his hand and realizes, in a detached way that he’s shivering. He starts jerking himself off. Rough and tight into him, while Art is clenching, virgin tight at the head of his dick. He’s not even inside, not even a little bit and they’re both panting like they’re actually fucking. Patrick finishes embarrassingly fast, spilling all over Art’s bottom as Art whimpers.

“Holy shit,” Patrick breathes.

”Mmhm,” Art sighs, contentedly.

”I think your uncle is gonna kill us.”

“Oh no… fuck,” Art whines, suddenly panicked. “We have to… we shouldn’t have fucking done that.”

Patrick grins, slowly pulling his boxers back up. “It was your idea doc.”

“Yeah but— I said I just wanted you to try and find my prostate not—“ he sighs. “Never mind. Help me clean up.”

They get dressed and clean up the mess they made in the exam room. Art’s still a bit of a mess when they leave. His shirt is all wrinkly and his hair is everywhere. Not to mention the way he’s flushed.

They go to his Uncles office and he’s sitting at his desk eating lunch, he takes in the sight of them, an unreadable expression on his face.

“Hey uh— so um— funny story— we were cleaning up and—” Art stammers.

His uncle raises a hand interrupting him. “I’m not one to judge,” his uncle says, his eyes crinkling with mild amusement. ��But next time at least wait for me to close the office first.”

“I’m really, really sorry,” Art says weakly.

“Don’t worry about it. No damage done this time. We had the last patient at least two exam rooms away. Didn’t hear a thing.”

“Well that’s a relief,” Patrick says. “I was so scared everyone could hear him.”

Art glares at him and he shrugs.

“So I’m guessing you found it then?” Art’s Uncle asks.

“Uh, found what sir?” Art asks.

He shrugs. “The prostate. That’s what you were looking for, right?”

And Patrick can’t help it. He just starts laughing.

(I ask that y’all forgive any ethics violations against poor Mr.hottie patient. Whose only crime was being hot in front of Artrick with a sexy medical problem. No I don’t generally think medical problems are sexy. I also don’t condone fucking during office hours. Even if your uncle owns the place and you’re not a “real” employee. Especially then. Also now that I’m aware Patrick’s doing the sweetheart thing I’m doubling down 🙂‍↕️)

#patrick zweig #art donaldson #challengers smut #challengers fic #art x patrick #art donaldson x patrick zweig #artrick #anon answered #anon ask

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princesssae · 2 months ago

Note

Hi hi hi

Can i request for a fem!reader who's sick but tryna hide from the JJK characters? If not js Megumi is fine

Have a nice day! :)

IM SO SORRY!!! FINALS ARE HITTING ME SOOOO HARD RN BUT I NEEDED TO GET THIS OUTTT. Thank you for your ask, I love you!!

{Hey, Mr. Loverman!}

[Satoru Gojo x Fem!Reader] [Megumi Fushiguro x Fem!Reader] [Ryomen Sukuna x Fem!Reader]

In Which -> You’re sick and don’t tell them!

Word Count -> 1.3k

Authors Note -> I originally was going to post this for Satoru’s birthday but I low key got in a slump and finals are literally here so I couldn’t find the time to write. I was thinking for the characters to write about but idk. I thought Sukuna’s would be kinda cannon irl but it’s really short so I guess I didn’t put much effort :( But my Megumi is such a sweet boy, Gojo raised him sooo well.

Warnings -> FLUFF!!! Sweet, hearty wholesomeness. Fem!Reader though it’s not really expressed in some parts. Relationship is already established for everyone!

Satoru Gojo

Satoru: Wanna get kikufuku?

It’s 12pm and you're still in bed. It’s hot, your pajamas are sticking to your skin, and the headache is getting worse and worse every passing minute. Even the 6 pills that you’ve downed in the past 24 hours have not helped at all.

You feel bad. Bad that you're sick and also that you’ve left Gojo on read.

Satoru: ??

Is what he sends 2 minutes later when he sees that you’ve left him on read. What was wrong with you? Did he miss an important date? Was it your birthday? No, there’s no way that would happen. Well, maybe it did happen one time but he swore to never do it again!

You don’t have enough energy to stay awake anymore, or even to think so you go back to sleep and hopefully by the time you wake up, you’ll be 100% better.

That was a lie. It’s 8pm and you're still in bed. But that’s not the reason why you woke up. What woke you up was a certain noise. Why is there shuffling in the kitchen? You hope there isn’t a robbery in your house, while you’re sick. That would suck very much.

Getting up, a huge headache suddenly takes impact from lack of water and getting up too quickly. Just go through it, toughen up a little. When you get into the kitchen, you see… Megumi? He turns around and his eyes open wide.

“What are you doing here?” You say.

“What are you doing here?“ He questions back.

“You need to get back in bed. Before he sees,” he says.

But it’s too late. Gojo is suddenly next to you with grocery bags in his hands. He looks at Megumi, and then looks at you.

His Six Eyes are VERY intimidating. His eyes sharpen and the next words that come out of his mouth are, “Get in bed.”

He never demands you to do things. He’s always cheery. But the thought process doesn’t last long until everything turns black.

The next thing you know, you're back in the comfort of your own bed. It’s morning time now, and the sun is shining. There’s also a dip on the other side of the bed. It’s Satoru. The posture that he’s in doesn’t look very comfortable or safe for his spine at all.

When you shift, he instantly wakes up. His eyes roam your body, but not in a seducing way. It’s in a way where he’s showing that he cares for you. You feel a lot better now so you tell him good morning.

He replies with, “How are you feeling?”

“Good, whatever you did helped me so much. Thank you,” you say.

He smiles and then you know what’s going to happen next. He’s going to boast.

“Well of course! I’m the best sorcerer, so why can’t I be the best at everything else? All it took was a trip to the store and I got some medicine, ice cream, soup and other things. Fed it to you while you were sleeping, and now you're brand new! All thanks to me of course, without me-“

And then you shut him up. It’s a kiss and it’s full of thankfulness. Maybe you should’ve brushed your teeth before this. It’s a little yucky.

“Yes, yes, we know. You're the strongest. But let’s go get that kikufuku, okay?”

You’ve never seen him jump so high before.

“By the way, where’s Megumi? I also want to thank him,” you question.

“He’s been here the whole time actually,” Gojo states with a sly smile.

You turn around and you're about to thank him but he cuts you off and says, “Don’t ever kiss him in front of me again.”

And that’s the end of the conversation.

Megumi Fushiguro

You didn’t show up to practice today. But today was Friday, and Friday is the last day of practice before the weekend.

“It’s technically the weekend!” You would state, excited to go out into the city and hang with him, Yuji and Nobara.

Maybe you took a day off earlier to travel? No, it’s not summer break and you have school the following Monday. A trip would be too short. You didn’t even respond to his text, and he sent that 4 hours ago.

He dreads it, but he has to ask Nobara since she’s in the same dormitory as you and Maki.

“Kugisaki,” he calls for her attention.

She turns around but makes a sour face. Maybe it’s because he just interrupted her conversation with Maki. She’s always looked up to Maki, so he understands, kinda. Not really.

“What do you want? I was in the middle of something,” Kusgisaki says with annoyance.

“Where is she today?” Megumi asks, getting straight to the point.

“Who? …Oh, your girlfriend? She’s sick. Hasn’t she told you?”

Megumi’s mind is racing now. So that’s why you weren’t able to text him back? Is that why you’re not at practice today?

He barely says thanks and rushes off of the training fields. He’s definitely going to get teased by Gojo.

Yuji calls after him, but he ignores all the shouts and heads to the dorm rooms. Before he makes it to your room, he makes a bowl of porridge and brings a bunch of water bottles.

Knocking on your door, he gives you a few seconds to respond, but you don’t so he knocks again. When you don’t answer, he thinks that you're sleeping and slowly opens the door to not wake you up.

He stands over your bed and checks your temperature. You’re burning hot. You groan in pain as a reaction and he frowns. Why didn’t you tell him that you were sick? He’s going to be in for a long night ahead.

It’s the next morning and suddenly you wake up feeling like a burden on your shoulders has been lifted. There’s medicine on your nightstand, an empty bowl and a bunch of water. There’s also a note that says:

Sorry that I had to leave, I got called in for a mission. I hope you feel better today. I got you medicine if you still need it. Please tell me the next time you’re sick.

-Megumi Fushiguro

Ryomen Sukuna

Would not care at all. Probably have to deal with it yourself. He knows you're hiding but he thinks that maybe you’ve finally realized that he’s a monster?

When you feel better, he tells you, “A weakling like you should be embarrassed,” and scoffs.

He obviously doesn’t know what being sick is but little do you know, he does actually care and was thinking that you were going to die or something.

In addition, he probably dreaded asking Yuji what was wrong with you because why would a teenager be smarter than a thousand-year-old curse like him?

Please do not copy, translate, or alter my work without my permission!

#megumi fushiguro #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi x reader #jujutsu kaisen megumi #megumi fluff #satoru gojo x reader #gojo fluff #satoru gojo #gojou satoru x reader #jjk gojo #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #jujutsu kaisen ryomen #ryomen x reader #jjk

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r4ilway · 3 months ago

Text

Spots of Jealousy (Pt. 1)

Pt 2

Summary: Your friends invite you to a Halloween party. The man you won't acknowledge that you have a small crush on comes with another girl you've never met before. Not knowing what to feel or do, you give him a taste of his own medicine by messing with your roommate in front of him.

pairing: college!Hyunjin x college!Reader, some college!Chan x college!Reader

genre: Suggestive ❤️‍🔥

warnings: bad writing, Alcohol consumption, fake blood, a lot of tension, making out, dry humping (?), grinding

notes: hi, first fic ever on here. im really rusty on writing so im sorry if some moments seem rushed or just not right? yeah idk. also its NOT PROOFREAD!

divider by: @strangergraphics

Walking into the lecture hall, you took a seat next to the long black-haired male wearing a loose black sweater and jeans. His laptop was out on the table, and he was looking through his phone. Noticing your presence, he turned to you.

"Morning Y/N, did Felix say he'd come today?" He asked, his sleepy eyes looking into yours.

"I dunno hyunnie. He didn't text in the groupchat," You replied.

You placed some coffee candies near his hand that rested on the wooden desk. His eyebrows raised seeing them. Sure they were probably not caffeinated, but maybe it's taste that mimicked his favourite americanos would wake him up.

You settled down at your desk, and a few minutes later, Felix took a seat next to me. His blonde hair a little disheveled, and he wore an oversized shirt and swearpants.

"Morning Y/N, Hyung," He smiled softly.

"Hey Felix." You said, passing him some candy, he smiled. He opened the wrapper and ate one of them.

Our professor came in a few moments later, starting off the lesson.

While the lesson was reaching its end, Felix got bored. He looked through his phone and was reminded of what he wanted to say.

"Are yall going to the party later this week?" Felix asked in a hushed voice.

"What party?" You replied.

"Johnny's. He's hosting a halloween party on Saturday night."

"What?" Hyunjin butted in.

"You guys didn't know?" Felix questioned.

Hyunjin and I shook heads.

"Who's coming?" Hyunjin asked.

"The usual, Minho, Seungmin, Changbin, Jeongin, Chan, Jisung, and whoever else,"

Your ears perked up hearing Chan's name mentioned. He didn't seem one for parties, at least from the conversations you were having. What You had with Chan seemed complex but really was the same old trope. You met him and the boys through Hyunjin, your roommate. They'd have gatherings and since your apartment was the largest and most available, it became the designated hang-out spot. They always extend the invitation to you. When you first saw Chan you thought he was very attractive, his black undercut hair, sharp eyes and nose, and such a built body. He wasn't the most popular kid around college, but he was averagely known, by his group of friends too. So if you had found him attractive surely girls did too. The more you guys hung out, the more you got to know his caring nature, the small gestures he would do, like protecting sharp corners of furniture with his hands, his calloused hands that rubbed your thighs if were watching a scene you didn't like, or his need to always have some sort of skinship with you, his arm next to yours, your legs on his lap. The tension was ever-growing between you two, you got excited if he were to come over, him having a small smile whenever near you. You had a small crush on him, maybe a little bigger than small. But yet, none of you said anything, enjoying whatever "don't wanna love" attitude you both shared. Your texts would also have hints of flirting, like cops and robbers chasing each other.

"Johnny said to bring a date, or come with friends..the more the merrier," Felix added.

"Kay, you have an costume already?" Hyunjin asked.

"Yeah! I'm being Thor this year," He replied.

You all laughed knowing he would look ridiculous in the costume. Soon enough, the class ended. You packed up your things and left, walking out of the building.

The three of you proceeded to walk to parking lot, Felix was hanging out at your place for the day to get some work done, and you and Hyunjin just wanted to crash. While walking out of the campus, you saw chan walking with a girl. You recognised her, Haru, she was a pretty popular girl in school, always sociable and obviously attractive. Your heart sank a little seeing Chan with her. Of course he'd be with her. But what about what you guys had? All the small touches, tender words, suggestive moments? You pulled yourself out of those thoughts, no longer looking in their direction. Reaching the parking lot, you guys hopped into the car and left.

A few days passed, and Saturday evening had already arrived. The group chat with you and the 8 boys was super active, they were discussing costumes, who needed a ride and who they were coming with. You on the other hand were getting ready, your makeup took extra time as it was something you hadn't tried. There's been a recent trend of leopard makeup, and you decided to go as a sexy leopard, a leopard print halter top that cut low, exposing your cleavage, with a miniskirt of the same print. After some time, you finally finish your look and admire yourself in the mirror. Your eyes that mimicked the predator animal made you look sultry, the dark lip you had accentuated its plumpness. Good luck to anyone who saw you tonight, cause you were definitely stealing the spotlight.

Hyunjin knocked on your door and opened it, seeing you check yourself out in the mirror.

"Y/N, could you help me out with the makeup?"

You nodded. And told him to come in and sit in your chair. Hyunjin was always handsome, and you felt an attraction to him all the time. Didn't help that you would find him in just sweatpants when you were getting late night snacks, and his muscles would look oh so good in the dim lighting.

"What do you want done hyunie?"

"Some eyeshadow? Maybe blood on the corner of my lip?" He said, looking up at you.

You picked up some dark eyeshadow, and brushed it on his eyelid, making his gaze darker from his usual soft look. This was the closest you've been to each other despite living under one roof. His eyes stared up at you as while you concentrate on him. Your heart started pumping a bit faster, and the air in the room was harder to breathe.

"You have a date for tonight?" He asked.

"No, but Felix did say we can come with friends, I'm assuming we're the friends?" You lightly laughed, yet a hint of sadness in your voice.

While everyone in the groupchat was talking about just coming as friends and bringing their other friends, Chan didnt reply much. You let them know you didnt really have a date either and would love to match costumes with them, but they all had their own ideas. You guys ended up agreeing to just come as a group of friends, when probing Chan, he mentioned he'll be coming with someone else.

"You've seen Chan and Haru right? You think they're going together tonight?" He said

You froze for a second, your hand with the brush now pulled away from his eyes, your heart reenacting the sinking feeling when you first saw them walking earlier this week. You shrug, you really didn't know if they were and hoping they didn't.

"Ah, oh well, we'll just see later," He commented, taking your wrist to place the brush near his eye again.

You finished up his eye makeup, you had to calm down to work on his lips, and your heart was racing. You picked up some red lipstick and signalled him to open his mouth slightly. You painted on the red slowly, and his gaze continued to linger on you. You wished he'd stop, or at least not continuously keep his eyes on you like that. The tightness in your chest grew, you had to finish this now to save yourself from doing anything embarrassing. You picked up the fake blood he had in his hands and dripped it at the corner of his lips, the blood trailing further down, stopping at his chin before the drop fell to the floor. I stepped back from him, letting him look at himself in the mirror. He grinned seeing how attractive he looked.

"Thank you Y/N..you look amazing by the way." He commented.

You smiled, and started accesorising yourself, putting on the leopard ears that lied on your makeup table. You put on earrings, and bracelets, blinging yourself up.

"I'm gonna go first okay Y/N, gonna meet some other friends to pre-drink. You'll be alright hm?" He asked cuffing his sleeves up. Looking at you with his sharp gaze.

"Yes hyunnie, I'll get an uber or something," You smiled.

"Okay, see you there pretty~" He cooed, winking at you before closing the door.

When you heard the door close, the air suddenly felt clear in your airways, your heart rate slowed.

"Holy fuck.." You whispered to yourself, and sat on your bed.

Hyunjin was another problem you had in your life. He was always flirty, but he was flirty with everyone right? At least, thats what you saw. But he never really brought home a girl, or maybe he only did if you weren't around? Being roomates who were single had blurred the lines of friends so much, casual arm around shoulders or him carrying you on his back was nothing. You guys knew that this wasn't what just friends would do, but who cares right? But the tension always grew in that goddamn kitchen, it being a cosy fit for you two, so if you guys cooked together or were picking up something, you couldn't avoid each other. It didn't help with his inability to understand personal space, always being up in your face and him catching you staring at his back muscles whenever they showed. And the way he grabbed your wrist so casually yet with dominance just now, it'd be no surprise if something finally happened tonight.

You heard your phone vibrate and picked it up, seeing Felix had texted you.

Chicklix: still home? i'm getting an uber and can pick you up along the way.

Me: yeah im home

Chicklix: okay, see you in 15 😛

You turned your phone off, and checked your makeup once again. You touched up some of the leopard spots and filmed a few tiktoks to post, taking some selfies too. You headed down stairs, picking out a fruit to fill your stomach. Sitting on the living room couch, you put on your platform boots. Soon, your phone buzzed, seeing Felix text that hes here. Turning off all the lights, you left your apartment and walked to the uber, seeing the blonde in the car. You stepped in the car.

"Lets go."

You two arrived at the house, place, thanking the driver and quickly shutting the door. You finally got to see Felix under the street lights and burst out laughing.

"What?!" He asked.

"Bro, this is not thor..this is maybe a thur," You cackled, looking at the muscles that were deformed in his costume.

"OK! OK! I just wanted to feel cool, you're hating and people will like my costume. So lets go." He said, slinging his foam Mjolnir around his wrist.

You laughed and followed behind, hearing the music grow louder. The party had already started a few moments ago, the time read 12.03 AM. Stepping in, the bass of the speakers and subwoofers crawled through the floor all the way up your body. You and Felix waved through through the crowd and managed to find Minho, Changbin and Jisung amongst the crowd.

They all greeted you with smiles, complimenting your costume and makeup. Minho was dressed as Gojo Satoru, Changbin was a boxer, and Jisung was Shin from Nana. The wigs they wore were wacky, but their bodies did their costumes justice.

"Wheres the others?" Felix shouted over the music.

"The others? Hyunjin just came too, he's with Seungmin and Jeongin I think? Somewhere there," Jisung motioned, pointing west from where we were.

"So wheres Chan?" I asked, everyone was here but him.

"He's on his way i think!" Jisung replied.

I grinned at them and signalled that I'd go look for the other three. I walked in the general direction Jisung pointed me in, and soon saw a familiar silhouette with two other men.

"Y/N! You look great!" Jeongin said, with a wide red smile on his face. He donned a purple coat and green hair with white facepaint, the joker, of course.

Seungmin waved to you and he dressed as Pororo, and he really looked like it without any make up too. He was chatting with Hyunjin, who still looked as delectable as he did when he left home. They were all feeling the alcohol a little bit, which reminded you to grab one yourself. You told them you were gonna get a drink and if any of them wanted a refill.

"Help me get a drink pretty, make it strong too, thank you," Hyunjin bent down to you to whisper in your ear.

You nodded, goosebumps rising as you feel his hot breath on your ear, travelling down your spine. He was usually naturally close to you for sure, but he rarely ever did something like that. You sauntered away, your miniskirt shuffling against your upper thighs, making your ass barely shielded from wandering eyes. Yet thats what you wanted. You weren't the type to look sexy on halloween usually, last year you did a pretty accurate costume of Justin Bieber in his golden age, so you gave yourself a chance to just look irresistable tonight. You went towards the drinks and grabbed a cup, fixing yourself a tequila soda, knowing it gets you tipsy quick, you just got Hyunjin a whiskey and coke, you weren't sure what he usually gets, but this was a safe bet, pouring more whiskey than usual.

Walking back to the group, you saw an additional figure and a girl. At first, you thought it was Johnny, but Johnny had dyed hair, and this guy didn't. His black hair on the back of his head, and his biceps paraded with the tight black shirt he had on. He had a gun harness which wrapped around his chest. Judging from that and the belt and pants he wore, he was a police officer...and the girl next to him was a prisoner, in a tight orange jumpsuit, the bottom half allowed some of her ass to show through, a handcuff resting on her wrist. You sighed knowing exactly who the two were. Swallowing your pride, you walked towards them and slotted yourself between Hyunjin and Jeongin. Passing Hyunjin his drink, he smiled at you, nodding thank you before taking a drink. He made a face at the alcoholic taste that wasn't masked by the coke but remembered he asked to have it strong. You waved a small hello to Chan and Haru, not really paying any mind to them. You could feel his eyes on you, and your confidence turned into consciousness, did he think you were doing too much with your costume? Was your makeup bad? Were you showing too much skin? You suddenly felt small in his gaze, you left the house feeling so confident and so attractive and it all turned to everything opposite. And there Chan was, opposite you, looking dangerously fine. The way his black fringe covered his forehead, and his sharp eyes enhanced by the dark makeup similar to Hyunjins. Fake wound marks that went across his nose, and neck and fake bruises on his arm to make it look like he had just left a dangerous cop fight. And the stupid fucking shirt he had on, with the harness that pushed against his beautiful chest. He looked even more insatiable than normal, you hated it. Your eyes turned to Haru, her orange jumpsuit that stopped at her upper thigh, her make-up mimicking Chan's with her messy long hair. Your blood boiled thinking that no one else could've done that makeup for him but her, imagining both of them in the exact same scenario as you and Hyunjin.

You pulled yourself away from the group, not wanting to put yourself in such turmoil any longer. You gravitated towards the snacks, having little to eat that night. Take a big gulp of your drink, the taste going down your throat with resistance. You took a bite of the cream puff you had to chase the drink away, walking back to Minho and Changbin instead, but bumped into Hyunjin, he softly giggled and slung an arm around your shoulder to bring you to Changbin and Minho. They were sat on the couch, and you joined them.

"Lookin good Y/N," Minho smiled.

"Thank you Minho, I put in so much time in this makeup.." You complained.

He laughed. Hyunjin was sat next to you enjoying the music, nodding his head lazily to the music. His arm still slung around your shoulder, and he pulled you closer. You could smell the cologne he wore, and looked at the tight pants that enhanced his muscular thighs. Naturally you leaned into his touch.

"Who's that girl with Chan?" Minho asked.

"Haru or something," Hyunjin replied.

"Oh. Like a talking stage? Or just friend?"

"I don't know, i just see them around campus sometimes,"

You looked at Chan, the girl standing next to him as he talked to his other friends. You sighed to yourself. You weren't even sure why you hated the sight, you were not a thing with Chan, but theres definitely something going on between you two. And to match costumes too?

After a few moments of chatting Hyunjin was getting bored of sitting around, and the music wasn't hitting right yet.

"Did you guys know they have a pool table here? Wanna play?" Hyunjin asked

The 2 of you stood up, Changbin and Minho stayed behind, saying they'd maybe play later. The green suede table sat a bit further away from the main area, but you could still see it. They all picked up cue poles each, but you hesistated.

"I've never played pool you know," You commented, picking up a pole with uncertainty.

"I'll teach you," Hyunjin smiled.

Hyunjin broke the perfectly aligned balls, spreading them around the table. He then tried to get a ball in but didnt succeed. He gestured for your turn, and you walked up to the table. Hyunjin saw your struggle and came up behind you. You mimicked your pose like Hyunjin's, bending your body over, putting your pole behind the white ball but your position was off, and you didn't know how to position your fingers. Hyunjin saw your struggle and came up directly behind your bent body. You could feel the small distance between your ass and his crotch, and he quickly closed it up. He bent over, his face right next to yours.

"Put your fingers like this pretty," He whispered, posing your left fingers with his right hand.

He used the same hand and attached it to your right.

"Push with me,"

His right hand held yours and pushed the pole with enough force to push the white ball and hit a striped ball into the hole. You got up with excitement and your ass brushed against his front. You turned around and realised the closeness between you two. The air was hard to breathe again, seeing his costume in the lighting just made him even more fine. He usually wore baggy clothing, so this black button up he wore accentuated his arms, and it being slightly unbuttoned showed off his chest. You backed away and you back hit the table. He paid no mind to the space you created, closing it up again. He took away the pole in your hands and placed it on the table. His arms on each side of you.

"You're dangerous tonight Y/N," He slurred.

"Me? What about you? Everytime i make space you just come right here," You flirted, inserting a finger under his necklace, pulling him a bit closer. You sat yourself on the table, knocking some of the balls away. He stared up at you, his gaze was different. This wasn't anything like your casual flirts. The need in him was dire. His face so close to you, you could smell the alcohol. Your vision was getting a bit blurry too, which made it 10x easier to play around.

"We still have the rest of the night Y/N, lets make this game last," He smiled.

You lazily pushed him back, and got down from the table. Just then, Jeongin, Seungmin and Changbin came by to play pool too. You excused yourself, opting to find some other friends you heard would be at the party. Before you left, his arm snaked around your waist turning you towards him.

"Find me later pretty, promise?" He asked.

You nodded sweetly, pulling away from his hold and into the crowd once again. You saw your friend Belle standing alone, and approached her.

"Belle! You look amazing!" You comment, referring to her Barbie costume.

"Thank you! Y/N I havent seen you in awhile, and you look stunning babe, did you do the makeup yourself?"

"Yeah, sorry we havent talked in awhile, been so busy,"

You both sat on some stools, catching up on your lives in college. You guys also discussed the mutual friends you knew in your lives.

"Oh by the way, i keep seeing this girl with Chan all the time, who's that?" She asked.

"Girl, you don't know Haru?"

"Clearly not!"

"To be honest, I dont know much of her either..just know she's pretty and well liked,"

"But didn't you and Chan like...ya know"

"What?! What do you mean?" You exclaimed.

"Oh my god Y/N not like that! I meant you guys had something happening no?"

You sighed, thinking about whether you should just brush it off or talk about it.

"I don't know Belle, this has got me fucked up to be honest."

Belle nodded, urging you to continue.

"I dunno Belle, I mean i really think he's attractive, he casually flirts with me and always is gentle and sweet to me, he never once rejected some advances I made too. Now i'm so fucked up over him bringing another girl i dont even know to this damn party. And i dont even feel like its right for me to be mad cause we weren't ever a situationship or anything like that."

She placed a hand on your bare back, rubbing a thumb up and down in comfort. You sighed into her touch, placing a hand on her thigh as a thank you.

"I mean, if it helps you I noticed he's been looking at you a lot since he came,"

You shot her a look.

"Don't make me delusional Belle,"

"No I'm serious! When you went to play pool, his eyes just followed you to where you were going,"

"Am i supposed to believe you?"

"Well look at him right now," She gestured with a nod of her head.

You looked in the direction she pointed, and met eyes with Chan. He had Haru next to him, her hand on his thigh, but he was looking right at you. As you caught him, he didn't bother to even break the contact. You were dressed as a predator animal, but you were a prey now. You tensed up, and quickly turned back to Belle.

"He's been like that ever since he came, brought a girl with him but cant stop looking at you huh? Well i would too, with how you look tonight," She laughed.

You snapped out of your thoughts. She had a point. He brought Haru yet couldn't stop looking at you. You didn't know the reason, but you could give him a reason right now. You suddenly grabbed Belle's hand, and bumped your cups together, downing the drink before dragging her to the dancefloor. You started slow, just swaying your hips to the beat, and when the song got more hype, you started incorporating your arms, trailing them down your body, making sure every curve was covered. Belle hyped you up, wooing at you and dancing along. She started doing the same, waving her body from side to side, her arms up in the air. You cheered her on. She then started body rolling to the beat of the music and encouraged you to join her. Your back towards her chest, you guys body rolled in sync without a care of who's watching. You looked at where Chan was sitting, and saw he still had his eyes on you. His fist on the armrest of the couch, knuckles white. His tongue poking his cheek seeing you dance sexily. Belle wasn't lying. You gave him a smile, and winked at him, continuing to lose yourself to the music.

Belle dancing got the attention of some guy at the party, she then started to dance with him. You continued to dance alone, soon getting tired and wanting another drink. You made your way out of the crowd, going to pour yourself another drink. As you approached the drinks, you felt a looming presence behind you, quickly shifted to your side. With your dazed gaze, you saw the black top and instantly knew who it was. You got him. You ignored him at first, continuing to pour yourself a drink. Chan did the same, before speaking to you.

"Y/N.."

"Well hi channie," You said, looking him up and down deliciously. There was no denying how handsome he looked in the costume. The police costume enhanced his dominant nature.

"You're breathtaking pretty girl," He sighed, looking at all the skin you were showing, with your cleavage peeking through your top.

"Careful with that mouth Chan, wouldn't want your girl to hear you say that to me," You snarked, however, your heart raced at the compliment. He has never said anything of that calibre to you.

His tongue poked his cheek again, a thing he did when he was frustrated. His calloused fingers landed on your waist, holding you tenderly despite how he was feeling. You smirked. This feeling was so familiar, you were so glad to have it back.

"Quite a performer are you?" He asked, his face getting even closer to yours.

"Had to give you a reason to be staring, no?" You teased, a hand stroking his large biceps.

"I don't need a reason, pretty girl..."

"Then i don't need a reason to be with you now, besides, you have your little criminal to attend to," You laughed, pushing him away, before rushing off back to the dance floor.

Chan groaned at your act. He thought he'd finally have you, forget Haru. But you ran off just like that.

You moved through the bodies and saw the black button up you knew so well, dancing with his friends. His white painted faced turned to you as you tapped his shoulder.

"Hyunnie, wanna dance?"

"Of course pretty,"

You lead him further into the dance floor, starting to dance to the music. Hyunjin followed, unbuttoning another button from his shirt, cooling him down and letting him move easier. He started to move with you, his hands landed on your waist from the back guiding you to move with him. You whined your hips, occasionally brushing against him, you smiled at the contact. You let yourself loose, whining and grinding against him. He couldn't hold it any longer and had to look at you. He took your hand and raised it, encouraging you to do a turn. You turned your body towards him, seeing his handsome face and his exposed chest begging to be marked up.

"I never knew a leopard could be so sexy," He said.

"I never wanted a vampire to bite me so bad," You blurted.

He smirked, a fang peeking through.

"Is that a challenge pretty? Want me to bite you like one?"

"Hmm, its up to you hyunnie, could mark me up in front of all these people, make me look pretty," You flirted into his ear, as youlooked off to the side to find Chan sat on a sofa Haru sat on his lap. She was giggling to whatever the other boys at the sofa were saying, but Chan paid no mind. All he saw was you, and how he wished your hands were on him instead of Hyunjin.

Hyunjin was a several drinks deep, so he easily pushed your hair away from your neck, tilting your head. He attached his mouth onto the bare skin. His lips leaving soft kisses on the area, and he started to suck and nip at the skin slowly, yet hard. You moaned lightly at the feeling, your neck was an erogenous zone, so it heightened your senses so much. You felt 2 fangs prod at the skin, and you gasped. He has his arm around your waist, and looks up to see his hyung staring right at him. The red that you painted on him was now painted on you. He detached his mouth, a light trail of saliva followed. He could feel the anger from Chan's intense gaze, and gave a cocky grin. He looked at the masterpiece he created, grinning to himself.

"So beautiful.." He said softly.

Your cheeks flushed at his compliment. Feeling a wave of confidence after the compliment, you pulled him towards a nearby couch. He sat down, and you sat down next to him, a hand on your thigh as you both maintained the tension. Earned It by The Weeknd started playing, and you got up, having the perfect plan.

You make it look like it's magic

You sauntered your hips to the beat, your back a few feet away from Hyunjin. His legs spread wide, almost calling you. Chan sat directly opposite you two, Haru still on his lap. He stared you down hungrily.

But I see nobody, nobody but you

You mouthed the lyrics, staring right into Chan's predator eyes. You then turned back towards Hyunjin, walking towards him, giving the same show to Chan now. He had a full view of your ass barely covered by the miniskirt.

I'm never confused, Hey Hey I'm so used to being used

You straddled Hyunjins lap, he naturally placed his hands on your waist. You started to grind slowly against him, he could not focus on anything else but you. You felt his cock through his pants, it was semi-hard under you.

So I love when you call unexpected, cause i hate when the moment's expected.

You got up, and sat on his lap, your skin rubbed against the tight pants he wore, feeling every part of his thigh and groin.

So I'ma care for you, you, you

The speakers sang, as you grinded your ass into him, swaying side to side to the song. Your body gave attention to Hyunjin, but your eyes entirely looking at Chan. His gaze followed your every move, he clenched his fists up, controlling himself. You felt a hand on the curve of your back, and leaned into the touch. Your hands rubbed Hyunjins thighs up and down. You felt something poking you as you grinded into his clothed cock. Hyunjin pulled you even further into him, creating delicious friction to relieve him. Hyunjin was enjoying the entire show you put on for him, his ego grew and grew realising you gave him what his hyung wanted so badly. Jokes on him for bringing another girl here other than you. He tapped you, you turned around. He pulled you into his lap once more, now your legs straddled his left thigh, an arm around your waist.

"God Y/N...You're making me fucking crazy. Mark me up will you pretty?"

You happily obliged, planting a kiss on his cheek that left a mark. You moved down, planting soft kisses on his neck. You felt the skin of his neck vibrate as he hummed at the feeling. You reached his chest, and kissed and sucked near his collabone. You continued to do the same to wherever you could find skin, leaving your lip print all over him. Pulling away, you admired the masterpiece you made of him, and pulled out your phone to take a picture. Showing him, he laughed and pulled you closer with one arm, your arm around his neck.

"Hm pretty, making me an artpiece yeah? Wanna show everyone that I'm yours?" He said, planting a soft kiss on your shoulder.

You giggled softly. Leaning into him. The closeness and tension that never stopped was too much for you to even handle any more. Your faces so near each other, he stared at your lips with such want. You made the decision for him, your lips meeting his for the first time. His soft lips melted into yours, he opened his lips slightly and continued to kiss you gently. His hands roamed your body, and you placed a hand on his chest. You opened your mouth wider, allowing him to kiss you deeper. At the moment, it felt like it was just you two there, never mind the music and the many people around you. You pulled away from him, looking at his pretty face now with messed-up lipstick. You had to have him, to finally let go of it all.

Leaning into Hyunjin's ear, you whispered to him, "Hyunnie...wanna go home? I think we gave them enough of a show," You suggested, your breath on him made him shudder. He couldn't contain it either.

He nodded. In an instant, he let you stand up, him following along. You went to say goodbye to Belle and the boys, passing by Chan but paying no mind. You could feel his head turn as you two walked away from the crowd and to the front door. He sighed, seeing the image of Hyunjin's arm around your waist and the way yours and Hyunjin's lipstick were messed up, remnants of each other's makeup evident. There was no question what you would do back home.

#stray kids #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids fanfic #stray kids x you #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz smut #bang chan x reader #hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin smut #bang chan smut

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luvyeni · 1 year ago

Text

p. roommate!seungmin x fem bodied reader | warnings: | words: 0.5k ~ (581) 🐶ㆍ₊⊹

request: Roommate Seungmin who fucks you to stop you going out on a date 🤭

You turn in your dress; standing in the mirror — you looked hot and seungmin couldn’t agree more. “do you think this is the right dress?” you asked the boy who sat on the bed. “minnie, are you listening?”

Of course he was and of course you look really good; so good he wished it was for him. “of course you do.” He said, you smiled. “thank you.” he watched you bend over to find put your shoes on, your ass peaking from your dress; his cock twitching in his pajama pants. “what if it rains?”

You sighed; your roommate always acted like that when you had a date — coming up with different excuses to make you stay home; it’s gonna rain, he’s gonna be a jerk. “its not gonna to rain.” You said. “you don’t know that.”

“minnie it’s not.” You said, picking up two purses; he had to do something. “now which one.” He stood up, grabbing the purses. “none, you aren’t going.” He took the bags, throwing them. “minnie!” you were ready to yell. “what are you do– hmph!” you were cut off by him slamming his lips against yours.

You felt his hard on pressed against your stomach; he pulled away gripping at your waist. “what’s it gonna take for you to stay with me tonight?”

It didn’t take much for him — maybe you were secretly wanting him to do something; regardless he pushed you down on your bed, your dress self lifting above your waist, your black underwear on display; making him jealous. “you were dressing like this for him?” he slapped your thighs, you yelped. “fucking slut.”

He climbed on the bed, spreading your legs. “trying to show off what’s mine.” He growled , pulling your panties down. “such a wet cunt.” He took his fingers, running up your fold. “is this for me or for him?” he slapped your cunt. “fuck minnie!” you screamed. “answer me slut.”

“y-you.” You moaned, as he freed his thick cock from his pants; the length slapping against his stomach. “then why do you feel the need to slut yourself out for these dumb guys?” he questioned. “you like whoring yourself out, don’t you.” You dumbly nodded. “s-sorry.”

He groaned pushing his cock into your hole; hissing. “fuck! So tight.” He groaned, pulling out, slamming back in. “guess those idiot aren’t fucking you well enough.” You moaned as he in pounded into you. “of course no one will fuck you like could.”

“m-minnie please.” You clawed at his arms. “please what slut, use your words.” He said, his cock dragging along your walls. “i-im gonna cum.” You whined. “I don’t think I should let you.” He said. “I should -fuck- I should edge you until I see fit for making me wait that long.” You begged. “pl-please let me cum, please.” You sobbed out. “stop you fucking whining.” He grunted. “im gonna cum let you cum.”

You felt the knot in your stomach snap, screaming as you came; he fucked you through your orgasm. “fuck, im gonna cum, gonna cum inside you.” He groaned. “pl-please.” He fucked up into you, stilling his hips as he came with a hiss. “my god.”

He slowly pulled out you — just as you phone rang; fuck your date. “answer it.” He said. “w-what?” you stuttered. “I said answer it.” You moaned as you felt him re-enter your sensitive cunt.

“and I want you to tell him you aren’t coming, while you’re taking my cock.”

©️LUVYENI

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naomi-nana · 8 months ago

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Can I req bofurin boys on a first date? Thank you and have a nice day

first date with him . wind breaker

first date headcanons

featuring : kiryu mitsuki, sakura haruka, taiga tsugeura

cw : none, just pure fluff!

a/n : so sorry for being late to this ask i've been very busy these past few days but im trying my best to finish this all. and i really like this idea so i might make a part 2 :3 and have a nice day too!

DONT TRANSLATE MY WORK!

SAKURA HARUKA

- he actually doesn't know what to do

- was about to give up and told you that the plan was cancelled until nirei slapped him on the shoulder(nirei got slapped back)

- decided to get advices from kaji

- kaji also doesn't know and told him to leave him alone, but he also told sakura to atleast bring something with him to give to you

- he ended up bringing you to cafe pothos since he couldn't think of any other place

"...s-sorry..it's not much." you heard him mutter something but can't quite make out what it is, so you asked him to repeat it once again which makes his face goes bright red. "i- i don't know what you're talking about! i didn't say anything!"

- after spending time in the cafe and eating both your meals, he finally brings out the gift that he prepared for you

- kotoha won't stop sending him side eyes and a teasing smile which makes sakura unable to utter a word

- he just shoves it in your face(gently)

"h-here..take this." he says nervously while averting his gaze from yours. sakura took a long time picking out gifts for you and now he doesn't know if you'll like it or not. you opened the bag and found a bread. "a bread?" "just take it!"

KIRYU MITSUKI

- he wants to take you to an arcade but he thinks it's a bit too much for a first date, so he'd probably took you to a famous cafe in town

- he'll also come pick you up from your home

- when you walked out of your home, he took your hand in his and compliments your outfit

- he won't stop talking of how pretty you look that day, even after you're finished with the date he'd still bring it up each time you met.

"you look so pretty," he smiled at you as he took your hand in his, "lucky me for being able to date you." his words makes you flustered.

- when you arrived at the cafe, you'd think that he would be on his phone all the time since it's all that he does, but he actually put it in his pocket for today.

- if you're too anxious to order food, he's gonna order it for you

- would pay for the food

"is it really okay?" you look at the bills on the table, then look at him again with furrowed brows. "yeah, of course it's okay." he took your hand in his again and smiled at you.

TAIGA TSUGEURA

- you'll definitely know where he's taking you

- he told his friends that he's going to take you to a gym as a first date so you both could spend time together while also do workouts

- his friends obviously told him it's a stupid plan and told him to take you to a restaurant instead

- he probably took you to that one place(if you know what im talking about)

- he will apologize the whole time if the place isn't to your liking

"i'm sorry if this place doesn't look too fancy," he put his hands together and lowered his head, "but i promise you this place has great food! i come here regularly!" you smiled at him and tell him that it's okay as long as you're spending time with him. he's now pretty flustered and also proud of himself.

- you noticed that most of the food has the word 'energy' in it, you don't understand but you still order whatever you like.

- he of course ask you his infamous question, and you answered. the fact that you actually answered the question makes him very happy.

- after you both finished your meals, he takes you home.

"thank you for today." you smiled at him warmly and said that you had fun, you also complimented him. about how his loud and cheerful personality also makes you feel happy. hearing those words from someone he loves makes his heart melt. he can only mutter out a little thank you because a tear started to form in the corner of his eyes.

naomi-nana. do NOT repost, do not use,(with or without permission), do not reccommend or talk about my works outside of tumblr. DONT TRANSLATE MY WORK!

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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 5 months ago

Note

i'd love to see more from the poly reader x poolverine verse im obsessed w them

"I didn't realize your... roommates were home today," Your sister said helping the youngest into his coat.

"It's what happens when you don't call," you caution. "They live here. You want free babysitting, you accept the terms. Sometimes it's kazoos. Sometimes it's roommates." For now, you'd accept her calling them roommates. It was partly true. And it was less rude than what your mother had said. She called them your caretakers.

Sarah narrowed her eyes at you and you shrugged, "They're fed and in one piece. And Zach has part of his social studies paper done. You're welcome."

She watched for a second as her boys willingly accepted hugs and kisses as you ignored her, beseeching them to learn something at school and make good choices and she sighed, "Thanks."

"Call next time," you tell her giving her a meaningful look. You didn't live alone anymore. And if she didn't want her kids exposed to certain things then she needed to give you enough lead time to hide those things... Today she got lucky.

________________

"Shhh," Wade said, holding up a hand, "You hear that?"

"Hear what?" Logan said opening a beer.

"Silence," Wade sighed, sinking on to the couch next to you, handing you a glass of wine. "Holy shit."

"And that's why I like being the cool Aunt," You tell him yawning. "I show up late. I bring presents. I leave before the crying starts. And then I enjoy my nice quiet house."

Logan snorted and reached over to rub your neck as he took your other side and picked up the remote, "Nice little racket, bub."

You take a sip from your glass and stretch, snuggling into Logan's side and putting your feet in Wade's lap, "Not too shabby, boys."

"For roommates," Wade teased, smacking the bottoms of your feet affectionately. "Didn't know roommates fuck like we fuck."

"Sorry-"

Logan grunted and wrapped his arm around you, "Pause was doin' some heavy lifting there."

"Mom... doesn't approve. What dad knows depends on the day. And I think my grandparents would just drop fucking dead. So. There's that." You lean over and lift a sleepy Mary into your lap and stroke her back before resting your head against Logn again. They are who they are and you are who you are. You don't fit in with the cookie cutter perfect family they have and you haven't from the second you took your first breath. But you fit here with a variant and a mercenary and their ugly little rat dog.

"We could ruin Christmas," Wade offered, "Just go make out in front of-"

"Or," you hum, "we can leave well enough alone so I can still hang out with the kids and let them have someone around that's somehow less fucked up even if I'm objectively a mess."

The boys traded a look and Logan kissed the top of your head. They'd work out the specifics later but for now, as long as your sister kept her comments to herself they'd behave- mostly. As long as it meant you got to see the kids. Because it was clear it made you happy, and because; truth be told, it hadn't been too bad today.

Wade cradled one of your feet in his hand and grinned, "I got a question."

"Might have and answer," you tell him, hissing when his thumb hit a tender spot on your instep.

"Why do all the rugrats call you, Shush?"

"My parent's housekeeper calls me Sugar," you answer. "Everyone sort of adopted it and Zach couldn't say it- so it devolved into Shush and stuck."

"Stop it, that's precious," Wade cooed, "I thought they called you that because they were always telling you to shut-"

"Not all of us went to school thinking our first name was Damn it," you snort.

Logan smirked and let go of you long enough to light his cigar. "What'd she call your sister?" he asked.

"Honey. Or Princess if she was being annoying... it's just that neither ever really stuck."

#minors dni #ask answered #reader insert #deadpool x wolverine x reader #disabled!reader

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corrodedcoffins-blog · 11 months ago

Text

Meet the family

luke hughes x actress!reader

note: sorry it took so long but im happy i waited until i really liked it!

word count: 1.6 k

Going from New York to Michigan was not a long flight by any means. But going from Scotland to New York to Michigan in less than 70 hours was quite the heat, even for Y/n. It was around 9:00 pm in Michigan by the time Y/n arrived. She could have stayed in New York for the night, but when the other option was seeing Luke, she will always choose that option.

She was walking out of the airport now, looking around for the car Luke said he would be in. She spotted the type of car twice already, being let down both times when neither contained her boy. Finally she spots the head of curls, glad he clearly hasn’t seen her yet as she drags her suitcase behind herself. Clearly hearing the loud sound of the wheels on concrete Luke’s eyes shoot to where the sound is coming from to see what crazy manic is running in a parking lot, only for him to find out it’s his crazy maniac.

When she’s close enough Y/n drops the bag and jumps into the boy’s arms, her sweatpant clad legs wrapping around the tall boy’s hips, his hands dart to the back of her thighs in order to make sure she doesn’t slip off him. Tugging her up to wrap her legs around his torso now and her face buried in his neck. Leaving soft kisses and taking in the distant scent of his cologne.

Mumbled against his neck, her lips tickling the boy, Luke can just barely make out the words; though he knew what they were given he felt the same, “I missed you.” “I missed you too, and I love you. So much.” He replies, talking into her hair. “I love you too.”

After a few minutes, and a car honking, the couple finally broke away from the hug. Luke lifted her suitcase into the back, as well as opened her door like the gentlemen he was. They talked back and forth and catching up with one another, what they hadn’t already said over their many calls, texts, and facetimes.

“I’m excited to meet your family. Do you think they’ll like me? I mean I know you’ve said that they know of me and like me, but that’s as who I am to the public. Have you told them anything about me me?”

“I’ve only told them that you’re my girlfriend, though they didn’t believe me which I don’t blame them for because sometimes I don’t believe it. And the last day or so they’ve asked constant questions.” “Like what?” “Like if I love you” he says in a teasing voice, as if he just wants to mention he loves her any chance he gets, “Did you tell them you do?” “Yes.”

Luke opened the front door, allowing Y/n to go inside first while he drags her suitcase behind them with one hand and leading her in with his other hand on the small of the back. Kicking off his shoes he calls out for his family until he hears laughter coming from the backyard. Showing the girl to his room, he let her put her stuff away and into more comfortable clothes, before meeting his family.

Luke walked into the backyard first, pulling Y/n by their joined hands behind him. It was Dylan who noticed the couple first, elbowing Ethan and Rutger who got to the house last night.

“Oh- fuck!” Ethan’s words got the attention of the rest of the group, heads turning to face the back door the two were walking away from now.

“Hi! I’m Y/n.” The girl awkwardly waved, Ellen could tell the girl was nervous so she jumped up to greet her, smiling when she saw her son’s hand in the girl’s. “Hi, Y/n, I’m Ellen. Luke’s mom.” “Oh, of course. He’s told me so much about you!” The older woman brought her into a quick hug, shocking the girl even after Luke warned her. “And this is my husband, Jim.” Said man shakes the girl’s hand from his seat. “And Jack and Quinn.” She said as she pointed to the respective boys, “Mom-” “Okay, Lukey! I was just trying to make her comfortable.” The little interaction between Luke and his mom brought a smile to Y/n’s face, finally getting to see her boy in his natural habitat.

The night couldn’t have gone better, in everyone’s eyes, though Luke could have gone without a few of the embarrassing stories his brothers and friends told. Quinn noticed, when Jack was telling a story of young Luke having a massive crush on his now girlfriend's many on screen characters, his little brother’s hand searching for the girl’s playing with her fingers and her rings. It was those little moments that made him realise the seriousness of the relationship that he hadn’t heard of until three days ago.

Long gone were the days Luke would tell his brothers every little thing, needing advice on every decision he made. He was grown, got into a serious relationship without his brother’s input, with a girl perfect for him. Who had been begging to meet him and Jack as they heard on the facetime. And when the girl got up to help Ellen in the kitchen, Luke sweezed Y/n’s hand and watched as she walked up the backstairs talking to their mom, as if he couldn’t bear time away from her.

“I still don’t fucking belief it.” Dylan said, causing Luke to roll his eyes while he mutters something about Dylan under his breath that causes Rutger to laugh.

Quinn, deciding to break it up before it starts, says from across the fire, “I like her. She’s good for you, Lukey.” “Yeah. And she’s not what I thought she would be like.. In a good way.” Jack piggybacks on Quinn’s thought. Light red invades Luke’s cheeks hearing his brother’s approval of the girl he loves and cares for so much, even more so when Jim adds, “She fits right in with us. Glad to welcome her to the family.”

“I’ve never seen Luke like that before.” The woman’s words bring a smirk to Y/n’s face, hearing his mom say it solidified Luke’s words of ‘never being this in love before’, “I mean, he’s never brought a girl here-” “I didn’t know that.” “Oh yeah. Never to the lake house, he’s always said Lake house was family and friend’s time.” Her smirk turns into a full on grin at that.

“That’s how I know he really loves you.”

Y/n woke up to the subtle bumps of Luke’s nose against her neck as he adjusted his position to curl further into his girl. The feeling of strong arms were warm around her torso, fingers tracing different shapes onto her skin, after a moment she realised he was writing his name. Turning to her other side to now be facing Luke, the girl brings her own hands to trace up and down the boy’s bare chest.

“Good morning.” “G'morning, darling.” Luke replies in his deep and raspy morning voice while his body shivers slightly at the feeling of the girl’s light touch.

After laying together as they woke up, the couple finally started getting ready for the day, the boy grabbed her hand as they made their way downstairs. Reaching the bottom they saw most of the boys in the kitchen eating the pancakes Ellen made this morning before she and Jim left for the day.

“Morning, love birds!” Rutger got a smack upside the head from Luke for that one.

As the couple got their food and sat at the table the other boys were going over the plans for today. Something Y/n didn’t think they really had to ‘go over’ as they were just spending all day on the lake.

The idea of spending all day on a boat with her boyfriend’s friends and family she's just met, the possible awkwardness that there was no way of escaping was scary. But the day was going great, Y/n was only nervous for the first few minutes plucking at her nails Luke quickly noticed, grabbing her hand so she wouldn’t be able to any longer. Something that didn’t go unnoticed by his older brother’s.

Y/n was in a deep conversation with Trevor and Cole about what it was like to film the All Too Well short film, Luke, having heard all about it before, was zoned out twisting the girl’s hair around his finger as he listened to her voice. Every once in a while he would add to whatever his friends on the other side of him were talking about, but most of his attention went to the girl.

It was Jack this time that threw the pop can tab off his beer at his older brother who was driving the boat, getting his attention and directing his eyes to their little brother’s actions. Seeing their little Lukey staring at the girl he had a crush on since he started liking girl’s with the biggest heart eyes as she talks to his friends, with so much love in his eyes they knew she was the one.

There was no way, no matter what they went through, if there were hard times and rough fights, they would make it through it. You didn’t have the love they had for each other for just anyone, this was special.

Luke was grown. He had effortlessly found his one at age twenty, really fourteen if you think about it, and his brother’s couldn’t be more happy for him.

#luke hughes #luke hughes x actress!reader #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes x fem!reader #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes fluff #luke hughes oneshot #luke hughes fic #luke hughes x famous!reader #lukey pookie #luke hughes x fem reader #hughes brothers #dylan duke #ethan edwards #rutger mcgroarty #nhl fic

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bluehwale · 2 years ago

Note

I loved that unconventional meeting post could you maybe do a post where they realize that after meeting you for the first time that they might have a crush on you ?

ateez realizing they have a crush on you!

part 2 to unconventional first encounters with ateez (please read this first!)

pairing. ateez x reader (specifically f! reader for seonghwa & jongho)

genre. fluff, humor, teeny tiny angst if you squint

warning(s). injuries, drinking, mint choco ice cream slander, some of the endings are half-assed im sorry

word count. 8.1k oopsies

note. tysm for sending in this request!! and i'm so sorry it took so long to get to you </3 im an ungifted burnout kid so i write and think at a snail's pace lmao bUT i hope u enjoy this one :-D (feedbacks and reblogs are greatly appreciated! ily all muah)

masterlist

kim hongjoong

here's the thing about hongjoong

he can be really cool with his skateboard and his obscure music taste and whatnot

but

he can also be a little bit out of tune with his feelings (this is a certified testimony from his self-proclaimed best friend, wooyoung)

it's obvious from how he has heart eyes for you but wouldn't make a move

"so when are you taking yn out on a date?"

hongjoong's skateboard halts in an abrupt stop after he suddenly plants a foot on the concrete to take a look at wooyoung as if he's grown two heads. "when am i what??"

and wooyoung’s just kinda staring him down like man, you can't be serious rn,,,,,

everyone and their mothers in this skatepark probably knows that hongjoong is basically head over heels for you because

it's just that obvious!!!!

and wooyoung has to resist from pulling out all of his hair in frustration because the man in question is eyeing him as if he’s the weird one

it all started after your Incident™ (you falling on your ass and having hongjoong help you)

you started to frequent the skatepark with your best friend mingi, and hongjoong even mustered up enough courage to ask you for your number one day

and now you both text each other every day >:-D

he even got you your own skateboard

and he also taught you how to skate hehe

he's so whipped

"hongjoong!"

the boy immediately turns to the direction of your voice (he can recognize it even while asleep) and he sees you waving excitedly at him beside an unfamiliar boy with pink hair

unbeknownst to himself, hongjoong's face lights up at the sight of you and he quickly pushes his foot off the ground to skate towards you

"yn!" he hops off his board and pulls you into a hug, inhaling the sweet scent of your hair that makes him feel all warm and fuzzy before involuntarily pulling away to look at the boy with an all black get up beside you. “who’s this?”

“oh! this is seonghwa!” the boy with pink hair nods at hongjoong and gives him a friendly wave in greeting. “he’s mingi’s cousin. he’s visiting for a little while.”

“oh hello, cool skateboard!” hongjoong greets in return, gesturing to the pink skateboard by the boy's feet that contrasts his dark outfit and quiet personality, “i’m hongjoong! i hope we can be good friends!”

maybe not

hongjoong doesn’t know the reason why, but he feels this really uncomfortable sinking feeling in his chest whenever he sees you together with seonghwa

despite his pink hair, the boy looks very intimidating and it seems like he doesn’t talk to anyone except you

and whenever he’s with you, there’s a happy grin permanently etched on his face and you both just look so happy together—

“they probably like each other.”

hongjoong snaps his head to glare at wooyoung who’s munching on a pack of strawberry pocky sticks as he watches you and seonghwa before innocently looking back at hongjoong with a shrug, “what? i’m just saying.”

and hongjoong starts sulking because you know what,, wooyoung might be right :-(

(you, wooyoung, seonghwa, and mingi actually devised a plan to act upon your crush on hongjoong) ((and wooyoung's role is the catalyst to set the plan in motion))

and you know what,,,, maybe hongjoong does have a crush on you. yeah, but just a little bit—

“oof!” wooyoung winces when he sees you land a particularly harsh fall from your skateboard that leaves you lying face first on the ground, and he scrambles to shove the remaining pocky sticks in his mouth before thrusting hongjoong’s first aid kit towards the shell-shocked owner. “dude, go! this is your chance!”

hongjoong was just zipping up his first aid kit after grabbing his can of antiseptic spray and band aids and was ready to run to you until he sees seonghwa already tending to your wounds as he sits beside you

:-( he’s a second too late

(it looks like you two are talking about something or someone as both of your eyes discreetly flicker to hongjoong (who’s too upset to notice))

what he diD notice, however, is the pack of band aids in seonghwa’s hands

and he kinda has to crouch and put his hands on his knees so that his squinted eyes can see better

are thoSE

ARE THOSE BLACK STAR WARS BAND AIDS???

he thought cute graphic band aids were his– and only his– thing !!!!

dang it, and they look super cool too !! :-(

his own pack of pink disney princesses band aids fall to the ground as he dejectedly walks back to where wooyoung is and he slumps to the ground to place back his first aid stuff back inside the kit

looks like he won’t be needing them anymore :-(

but he still finds himself heading to where you are, and he can’t help it when he worriedly takes in your scraped elbows and knees that are covered by the black band aids. “are you okay?”

“yeah, i’m good,” you say, and hongjoong’s too distracted to notice you glancing at seonghwa who gives you an encouraging nod. you nervously twiddle your thumbs, “uhH, hongjoong, uhm. listen, do you– i MEAN, would you want to maybe grab some milkshake with me sometimes?”

“oh sure! who else is gonna be there?”

…………..

(on the other side of the park, wooyoung rips out the headpiece that taps into seonghwa’s hidden microphone and almost bashes his binoculars in frustration)

just then, hongjoong feels shivers run down his spine as he feels a pair of dark eyes glaring daggers into his back and he can feel the devil on his shoulder whisper harshly into his ear, “they’re asking you out on a date, idiot.”

(spoiler alert: it’s seonghwa)

“i was thinking maybe it could just be the two of us? you know? aHa but it’s totally fine if you don’t want to—!”

“no nO, of course !!! i’d love to!!!” hongjoong exclaims, shooting up from the ground from sheer excitement at the thought of getting milkshake with you

this is the best day of his life

“great, it’s a date then :-D OH SHIT—”

(another spoiler alert: hongjoong fainted)

park seonghwa

seonghwa can definitely see himself marrying you

but not during moments like this

"shh, don't move."

seonghwa lets out a startled noise when he's suddenly awakened by a weight on him, and he almost screams his head off until his bleary eyes slowly open to see your figure straddling his torso with what seems to be an ice cream stick (?) held in your hand while you inch closer to his face

oh! it's just you! :-D (he thought it'd be his sleep paralysis demon)

it had been your idea to buy a house and live together after he nervously got on one knee on your fifth date; which seems all too soon but it appeases both of your parents enough for them to shut up on the marriage talk, much to your and seonghwa’s relief

and after six months of living together, he's proud to declare that you're his best friend or more specifically, his soulmate :-D

which is why you both are comfortable enough to do oddly domestic things together

"baby," he rasps, voice still thick with sleep, before placing his hands on your hips to circle the skin over your nightgown with his thumbs. he lets slip an amused chuckle when he sees your furrowed brows as he holds you off from coming near him. "what are you trying to do, hm?"

"i'm waxing your brows."

seonghwa's eyes almost gouged out of their sockets

"you're what???" he snaps his head to look at the clock at the far end of the wall, all the while trying to push you off him. "why are you trying to wax my brows at… 2 in the morning??!!!!"

"no, because—" you breathlessly giggle at the panic on his face, struggling to get his grip off your wrists. "you'll thank me for this!!! trust me!"

seonghwa, mortified at the thought of you shaping his brows with only a single ambient light aiding your sight in the dark bedroom, thrashes his legs under you like a petulant child. "i'll have you know that my eyebrows get compliments all the time >:-( !!! now get off me !!"

"huh. they must be lying because you kinda look like the red angry bird, dude :-/"

∑(O_O;) !!!!

the image of the cartoon character pops up in his head; the red bird with thick furrowed brows comically pelting towards a wall of green pigs, stupefying his thoughts

his movements falter

"do- do i really.... look like an angry bird?"

"a cute angry bird," you reassure him, gently running your fingers through his hair when you see him pout after his grip on you loosen and his arms fall limply to his sides on the bed. "now, hold still okay? i'm gonna make you look super pretty!"

you dip the wooden stick into the pot of melted wax in the still plugged-in wax heater sitting on the nightstand, prepping the pink wax around the stick before leaning closer to seonghwa's face

"it's pink?" he softly asks, referring to the wax that he's only just now paying attention to, and you nod in reply

"of course! :-D it's your favorite color."

you miss the endearing blush overtaking his cheeks as you lightly slather the wax on his skin before moving to take a muslin wax strip from the pack beside you

seonghwa's hands are back on your hips (this time for his own comfort) as his wide doe eyes nervously peer up at you who's sticking the strip onto the slowly hardening wax on his skin, ready to pull

"w-will it hurt?"

"nah, you won't even feel a single thing. no need to worry :-D"

rip!

"yAAAAAOOOOOOOOwwWWwWCCcHCHHHHHCH !!!!!!! THAT HURTS !!!!!"

his head twists side to side dramatically and you have to prop your hands on his chest to regain balance on his shaking body and your own from laughing

"you said it wouldn't hurt!" he exclaims with an exaggerated pout, rubbing at the sore skin and his eyebrows furrow when you wouldn't stop laughing. "this is serious! you're hurting your future husband!"

"shut up," you playfully roll your eyes, the smile that seonghwa adores lighting up your face. "don't have to remind me that i'm stuck with your ass forever."

he grumbles, pulling the blanket to cover half of his face and hide the growing smile threatening to take over his face. "i'm calling off our engagement."

you dip the stick back in the melted wax as you hum, "you love me too much to do that."

"that's true."

this time, your cheeks grow hot as you attempt to recover from almost losing your grip on the stick, his statement having caught you off guard. he smirks at your reaction and you playfully swat his arm, earning a small ow! as you sarcastically quip, "how romantic."

you return to applying the wax on the areas of his brows that needs cleanup after your fingers forcefully drag the upturned corners of his lips downwards

"you know... i figured i'll just marry the first person my parents set me up with," he breathes, a soft smile lingering on his lips at your focused expression. "but if it hadn't been you, i'd go through– hm– i’d willingly go through 219 horrible ! horrible ! dates just so i could be with you."

"oh please," you snort, raising an eyebrow at his statement. "you'd probably end up with someone else if you went on 219 dates."

"you're right.... who could ever resist this scrumptious, absolutely handsome face–"

"i'm gonna make sure the next strip hurts twice as much :-)"

"yN ahaha PLEASE DON'T ahahah I WAS JUST JOKING—"

jeong yunho

"tonight is your first mission."

wooyoung twirls the pointing stick in his hand before slapping it against his open palm, calmly sauntering across the leeway in front of the big whiteboard in the coworking space he rented. "today's topic will cover everything you need to know, so i need you to listen very closely."

amidst the numerous empty chairs behind the large meeting table sits an eager boy with soft brown hair, his wide eyes taking in each and every word on the board while his right hand grips a pen— ready to take notes on the very important lecture wooyoung's presenting today

"but first, a pop quiz!" wooyoung suddenly smacks his pointing stick against the board, smudging the writing that reads dealing with drunk yn 101 written in pink dry erase marker and effectively startling the poor boy from the loud noise

"a- a pop quiz?" baffled, yunho feels the grip on his high-quality japanese brand pen slip. he scrambles over the table littered with his best stationery to prepare a crisp spiderman themed loose leaf paper, "but-but i haven't even learned anything yet!"

"hush, this is to test out your prior knowledge. now, i'll begin with a case study."

jeong yunho, a widely-known overachiever, strives to be the best; especially when it comes to things for you– which is why he currently remains unblinking out of sheer focus on wanting to get his answers right

he has to get it right!!!

"you're both in a cab to go home when suddenly," wooyoung aggressively taps on the stickman drawing that poorly resembles you on the board, "drunk yn sees a claw machine on the side of the road and wants you to win a stuffed animal for them. what would you do?"

what would i do? yunho can feel the sweat beading on his forehead as he desperately racks his brain for an answer that would please the red haired boy who has an eyebrow raised and his hands on his hips

think, jeong yunho! think!

"i would... politely ask for the taxi man to stop and accompany yn to the claw machine—"

"WRONG. ddaeng !!!! man, how are you so down bad– sigh,,,,, dude," wooyoung turns to lean his forehead against the whiteboard and sighs before pulling out his wallet and moves to step out of the room. "i'm gonna extend another hour for this meeting room, brb."

turns out, nothing, not even wooyoung's 4 hour lecture, could ever prepare yunho for havoc personified

a.k.a. drunk you after a night of celebrating the end of your midterms

"noooo!!! oof-" you stumble against your dresser as you try to run away from the wide-eyed boy standing dumbfoundedly in the middle of your bedroom, your bottle of cleansing oil tightly gripped in one of his hand and your cleanser in the other

yunho rapidly shakes his head like a cartoon character to get his muddled brain back on earth when you ungracefully fall onto your carpeted floor and make no move to get up. he moves closer to gently pull you off the floor as he sighs, "you'll regret not removing your makeup when you wake up tomorrow."

"no !!!" you lift your head up at his words, your pleading eyes look close to tears and yunho panics at the sight. "i don't wanna! my eye makeup looks so pretty today!! i don't want it gone :-("

yunho had to refrain from grabbing one of your pillows and stuffing it in his mouth to muffle the scream that almost slipped out at your cuteness

he also almost screamed fuck it! and hop on the bed to cuddle you to sleep right then and there but he remembers that wooyoung would probably be disappointed in him and he also doesn't want you to be uncomfortable from the smudged makeup the next morning :-(

so he stands his ground and tries to think of something that would get your makeup off while still making you happy

"how about we take some pictures?"

and that's how you both end up having a full blown out photoshoot in your bedroom, with yunho lying down on the floor at a funny angle to take pictures of you posing on the bed with your phone while his own phone rests between his armpits (... don’t ask) to shine its flashlight for extra lighting

he can't help his own chuckles from escaping his mouth as he hears your giggles, his chest warming at the sound

after an estimate of 241 pictures taken, you're finally satisfied and allows him to help take your makeup off

"am i doing this right?" yunho nervously asks, gently rubbing the cleansing oil into your skin that slowly blends with your makeup as you dazedly nod, prompting him to take a hold of your chin to minimize your movement and causing you to giggle

"why are you laughing?" he smiles, watching your eyes crinkle as you continue to giggle softly

"i don't know. i just really really reeeeallly like you."

he knows you're drunk and it might just be a mindless statement and yet still, he can't help but freeze as he feels his heart skip a beat

he stops massaging the oil on your face

you like him you like him you like him you like him you like him you like him you like him—!

“uh,, actually that’s something i’ve been meaning to tell you. i- i like you too—“

“yEah yeah, i know!” yunho feels your hand blindly slap all over his face until you finally muffle his mouth, earning a glare from the boy. “you can tell me that tomorrow. noW get back to cLeansing!!”

yunho huffs and playfully rolls his eyes at you, trying to stop himself from grinning ear to ear while inching you closer to the sink so he can rinse off the oil, “aye aye ma’am.”

“noW uhguh–” you sputter out some water that got into your mouth, earning an oops from yunho, “you have to double cleanse with tHat cleanser,” you point at the tube of cleanser on your sink, “for at least 60 seconds.”

and when he finally lathers the face wash on your skin, he actually starts counting, “one, two, three, four, five, six—”

he'd do anything for you

kang yeosang

there are two things yeosang absolutely hates in this world

number one: your job

“i have to get to work, yeo,” you chuckle, “you gotta let me go.”

the android in question is glued to your arm, refusing to let you out the door by clinging to your arm and snuggling his face into your shoulder in an attempt of convincing you to stay

“You always leave,” the blonde pouts, his eyes glistening at the thought of always being left alone from every weekday morning to wait for you to come back at night. “Why must you go to work? Can’t you just stay here?”

sometimes, you forget that your android is supposed to be a boyfriend android – which is probably why he craves your company all the time

ok you feel a bit guilty now :-(

but you’re gonna have to work because !!! unfortunately, you need money to survive !!!!

“well, unfortunately–” you struggle to untangle yourself from his grip as you try to put on your shoes, “i have to work to get money so that i can buy food to live and pay for my electricity bills that keeps your battery charged.”

he grumbles and lets out a small yelp when you successfully unlatched yourself from him, “That’s so unfair!”

you shrug as your fingers grasp the doorknob to swing your apartment door open, “mhm, it’s called capitalism. see you tonight!”

you come home from work only to find yeosang missing

just as you were about to have your second mental breakdown, you spot a lilac post it stuck to your fridge that reads I’ll be out late. Dinner’s in the fridge. :-) in perfectly aligned and neat handwriting with proper punctuation– it’s definitely yeosang

but where could he have gone to???? you don’t even know if he knows his way around the city !! omg what if he’s lost and can’t find his way back home–

you hear the sound of your front door slamming shut

“Honey, I’m home!”

you immediately rush to your entrance door, ready to reprimand him for going out until so late at night, only to pause when you see yeosang dressed in a… bright pink polo shirt… with a blue apron that covers his front… and a matching blue cap that sits atop his mop of golden hair and wait a minute is that the baskin robbins logo???

“I got a job,” he grins at you, proudly tapping on the circular logo with the initials BR that rests smack dab right above the pocket of his blue apron. “They pay me to scoop ice cream into cups for tiny humans all day! Now you won’t have to work anymore!”

he’s so proud of himself :-D

this way, you won’t be as tired and he also gets to hangout with you all day long at home !! hehe

“you know… if you have a job, that means you’re gonna have to go work everyday,,, so,, you can’t really be with me either way :-/”

his face crumples at the realization

“Do you know the number of the Baskin Robbins down the street? I’ll have to tell them that I’m quitting.”

another thing yeosang hates the most in the world is: you going on dates

“strawberry for golden boy. target located and is currently approaching the table. do you copy? over.”

yeosang can’t really remember why he agreed on showing up with a fake mustache plastered above his lips and a black fedora hiding his blonde hair in the restaurant where you are to meet the guy you’ve been talking to on tinder for days

but anything to make you happy, he guess

sitting in a few tables away from yours, yeosang nonchalantly stirs the spoon in his overpriced cup of hot chocolate as he brings the dollar store walkie talkie upon his lips, “Are the codenames really necessary?”

“…”

he sighs, “Over.”

“of course they are! we don’t want our identities compromised! wait shit he’s getting closer now, i’ll talk to you later. over and out.”

yeosang squints at the guy sitting in front of you, scanning his admittedly handsome face to quickly run a background check on him

.... for safety purposes, of course

choi jongho. born in seoul. went to seoul national university. graduated magna cum laude. is currently pursuing his masters. non-existent criminal record. does environmental volunteer work on a monthly basis. can also ?? break an apple with his bare hands ??

yeosang gulps

this guy is basically perfect

his eyes flits back to you, the sight of you laughing at something jongho said making his stomach churn

and his eyebrows furrow because ?? he’s an android ?? he doesn’t even have an actual stomach so how is he even experiencing all of these overwhelming emotions— oh.

he’s jealous

“—and did you see the way he smiled at me?” you gush excitedly all the way back home, making sure your skips are on par with yeosang’s brisk walk. “he’s adorable! we already planned second date for next week and i’m so excited—”

“52 percent.”

you pause at your tracks, turning to look at yeosang who abruptly stopped walking. “huh? what was that?”

“You’re 52% compatible with Choi Jongho.”

“oh ! i guess that’s not too shabby. although, i thought it’d be a lot higher,” you bring a finger to your chin, deep in thought

“...You’re 96% compatible with me.”

THERE he finally said it

his electric motor is probably overheating from how flustered he is but, according to his system, it’s advised to confess to the person you like instead of holding back your feelings (source: wikihow)

so, he’s doing just that

it’s a good thing that he doesn’t have sweat glands because he’s pretty sure this street would’ve been flooded by now from how nervous he is as he asks, “Would you like to go on a date with me?”

you stood in front of him with your eyes comically widened, and based on your silence, he can kinda guess what’s coming next

aha, looks like he's gonna have to shut down for the next 168 hours!

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, you can forget it. I just wanted to let you know—“ “sure” “—that I like you– ...I’m sorry, what?”

you chuckle at his shocked expression, “i said yes, yeosang. i’ve actually been waiting for you to ask me that.”

(you ended up having to bring yeosang in for maintenance and pay a $150 fee because yeosang literally short circuited at your answer)

choi san

san finds it kinda hilarious how you’ve become his best friend, seeing as you seem to be the complete opposite of him

“what do you mean you hate mint choco??” san gawks, both of his palms lying flat against the glass encasing the freezer lined with tubs of various ice cream flavors as he turns to you with an incredulous look. “how could you even say that?!!!!!”

unbeknownst to san, the blonde baskin robbins employee behind the cashier register scowls at him, annoyed that he’s going to have to clean the fingerprint marks left on the glass

you snort, “everyone knows that cookie dough is superior,” you stick your tongue out at him, eliciting a dramatic gasp from the dark haired boy, “mint chocolate tastes like eating toothpaste with chocolate chips anyway. big yuck.”

“that’s ridiculous!” san, the official defender of the controversial green ice cream, exclaims. “how are you even comparing an oral hygienic product to food?? that’s not fair!! they don’t even taste remotely alike !!!”

“mhm, whatever helps you sleep at night, sannie,” you yawn, purposely flapping a hand over your open mouth to annoy him and you giggle once he starts to pout

“Excuse me," the inhumanely gorgeous cashier calls, surprising both you and san out of the little bubble that seems to form whenever the two of you are together, "are you ready to order? You’re holding up the line.” the blonde says, a grim look on his face

you smile apologetically at the employee who has a blue circular sticker on his uniform that reads new hire and you move to tell him the ice cream you want

while waiting for the employee to scoop your ice cream into a cup, you grimace when you look behind you to see a long line of teary-eyed kids with their glaring parents, probably because it's taking too long to get their ice cream

oopsies

you and san immediately booked out of there after he was done paying

“as i was saying,” san pops in a spoonful of his ice cream before continuing, “mint choco doesn’t taste like toothpaste,” you open your mouth, ready to object, but san took this chance to shovel a spoon of the dessert into your mouth, making you sputter in disgust of the taste and effectively shutting you up, “it’s toothpaste that taste like mint chocolate.”

you pause your steps before turning to look at him in disbelief, “are you even hearing yourself right now?”

he said what he said okay!! and he’ll stand by it ┐( ˘ ､ ˘ )┌

“sometimes…. i wonder what goes on in your brain… because dude, that does nOt make any sense at all.”

ok no, you know what doesn’t make sense?

it doesn’t make sense how san seems to think of you 24/7

when he strolls around the park and sees a golden retriever quietly mingling? that’s you.

the smell of cinnamon and freshly brewed coffee when he steps into his university cafe? he loves it because he thinks it smells exactly like you.

someone’s music leaking through their headphones in the hallways? oh wait, you two blasted this song in his car once.

grocery shopping alone? he better grab some of those birthday cake flavored oreos for you even though he hates them because he thinks they’re too sweet.

it’s just what friends do, right?

“what are we watching tonight?”

ever since you two became friends, it’s become a tradition to hold a weekly movie night at your place

and without fail, san always uses this time to try and convert you to become a mint choco ice cream lover

this would be his 12th attempt

“can we watch inside out?” you say, already munching on your microwave popcorn as you lounge next to him on the loveseat in your living room. “i feel like crying today.”

san almost jumps out of the couch to do his little dance

because you know what they say,,,,,,,,,

when you’re sad, eat ice cream!

and he’s gonna make sure you eat some ice cream, alright!! :-D

specifically, his favorite ice cream flavor that he's got in your freezer :-D

so, in the middle of the movie, right after bing bong tragically disappears into the abyss (san still sheds a tear despite this being his twentieth time watching the film) and he hears your tell-tale sniffles, he dashes off to your fridge and grabs the pint of ice cream he brought for tonight along with two spoons before returning back to stand in front of the tv screen

“fear not!” san announces, holding the pint of ice cream above his head while the other hand that is gripping the spoons is placed on his hip. “i have just the right thing to make you feel better!”

he excitedly pries the lid of the pint open and you groan as you wipe the tears under your eyes, “san, i’m really not in the mood to have mint choco ice cream shoved into my throat today—”

you’re cut off by san almost shooting through your apartment roof as he blankly stares inside the pint, “hUH?”

he furrows his brows when instead of the mint green ice cream, he’s greeted by the thick consistency of creamy soft brown ice cream with chocolate chips

it can’t be

why did he get your favorite ice cream flavor instead of his own?????

he hates cookie dough ice cream, and he’s a hundred percent sure he got a pint of mint choco chip ice cream— wait a minute,

“woah, they’re really everywhere,” san mutters to himself while looking at the shelves as he pushes the grocery store cart, “yn would love this!”

“love what?” his roommate, mingi, pops up, dropping a pack of a party sized barbeque chips into the cart

“yn would love this grocery store,” he says, referring to the newly opened grocery store they're in as he hums, “there's every product that’s endorsed by their favorite k-pop group in here. i’d have to take them here sometime.”

“at this point just date yn already.”

san glares at his friend, blindly reaching for what he thinks is a pint of mint chocolate chip ice cream with the thought of you stuck in his head, as always, “i don’t even talk about them that often !!!”

“sure you don’t.”

“is that…. cookie dough?”

“yeah, i guess— oof!” he falls to the ground when you literally jump on him

“WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY BEST FRIEND?!!!”

after san’s reassured you that he’s still him and not some anti-mint choco san clone, you happily eat up the pint of cookie dough ice cream throughout the rest of the movie while san tries to reflect on the new found revelation that he has a crush on you

now, whenever he looks at you, everything seems to fade away and cartoonish pink flowers would appear around you and start blooming (he also hears a soft tune that goes lalalala~ in the background)

oh, and he also thinks he’d stop eating mint chocolate chip ice cream just to appease you

his friends are right, he is a simp

song mingi

long story short… you decided to move into mingi’s 2 bedroom apartment to escape from your insufferable roommate !! :-D

it had been the boy’s idea because you two meet each other literally every single day and so he thought hey, living together doesn’t sound so bad !!! you should just move in with me!! i have a spare bedroom that’s been empty for a while !!

and so you immediately packed your things, left your roommate gaping when she saw her previous one night stand awkwardly waving at her as he helped you load your things to his car, and never looked back

now you’re both currently skipping down the street en route to the local farmer’s market because mingi swears that they have cheaper and fresher produce compared to any grocery store out there

you both stop at the first stall you see

“dude, check it out :O” you point at one of the corns on display, “that one totally looks like nanami :O”

he tilts his head as he tries his best to discern any similarities between the crop and your favorite jujutsu kaisen character………. only to come up with nothing

“hm. i don’t see it.”

“no, no!” you jump up and down, hands flailing everywhere as you try to gesture out corn nanami’s features. “you see! the corn hair is, well, obviously his hair, and the green jacket kinda looks like his suit don’t you think? and oh–”

to any nearing passerby, it seems like you two are a pair of excited newlyweds who were highschool sweethearts as mingi gazes at you fondly as you continue to ramble on about the corn-nanami doppelganger

which sounds totally stupid, but he doesn't mind at all

having been too entranced by whatever it was you were saying, mingi only snaps out of his fixation on you when he realized you caught on to his staring

he clears his suddenly dry throat and his eyes flick to anywhere except you. “ehm, e–EHm yeah right,, i guess he kinda looks like, uh, that corn.”

you playfully bump your side into his arm as you exclaim an “I KNOW RIGHT” and you accidentally start a bump fight when mingi starts practically shoving you back (he sometimes forget just how big he is) and you’re both just giggling at each other like stupid kids until—

“what a good-looking couple! i’ll give you two a discount! :-D”

mingi feels you freeze up against him and shake your head at lightning speed, “oh, we’re not… we’re not a—“

“how much? :-D” he interrupts, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you closer as he grins at the stall owner who starts cooing

meanwhile, you resist the tempting act of whacking him with your reusable tote bag

and you may be trying to tone down the heat on your cheeks bUT that’s besides the point !!!

you’re not a couple

yet

“how cute!” the stall owner squeals, and you can nearly see the dollar signs in her eyes as gullible mingi fails to see beyond her sly marketing ploy. she hums in contemplation, “hm, maybe i shouldn’t favor you two. wouldn’t be fair for the singles out there, am i right?”

you nervously chuckle, “that’s perfectly fine!” you try to push mingi to move along the market but it’s like his feet are immediately rooted to the ground once he hears compliments directed at you both. “psst mingi, move your ass— aha i’m pretty sure we still have some corn back home anyways—“

“do we really look cute together? :-D”

cue you smacking your palm against your forehead

“why of course!” the woman nods her head eagerly, “absolutely adorable. and especially with a fine handsome young man like you!” she turns to look at you, “he’s a good one. don’t lose him, dear.”

dang, maybe you should ask her which business school she went to because her marketing skills are just straight up fire

mingi knocks his head back as he lets out a hearty belly laugh and if you squint hard enough, you can spot the pink dusting his cheeks. “ah, you flatter me too much, ma’am!.... please tell us more about how cute we look together! :-D”

… he ended up lugging an abnormally large sack of corn all the way home

“people probably think we look like a cute couple all the time, huh?” mingi grins to himself during dinner, eliciting a glare from you as you take another hesitant bite of the… weirdly edible grilled corn salad

your bowls of corn soup and corn rice bowl (don’t ask) along with a cup of sweetened corn for dessert remains untouched while mingi scarfs down his own like a mad man

you don’t even want to know how he’s been surviving on his own

“remind me to never let you grocery shop again,” you grumble, stabbing your fork into the bowl of corn salad as mingi stares at you, finding your anger cute somehow

huh… that’s weird

why does he think your furrowed brows and the aggressive chewing behind your pouty lips are the cutest things ever right now?

uh oh

your heart practically leaped out of your chest as you yelp in surprise when mingi suddenly stands up from the dining chair and sprints to his room without a word

???

you resume back to eating your food

meanwhile, mingi grabs his laptop and looks up a love meter website to calculate love percentage while trying to calm down his erratic heart rate

he quickly types in his and your names into the website and crosses his fingers with his eyes shut as he waits for the results

ding!

he opens his eyes and excitedly reads the words on the screen

90%! Love is in the air!

:-D <3 !!!

“mingi… why are you sitting on my lap.”

“i think i’m in love with you.”

jung wooyoung

“i’m feeling lonely ♫ oh i wish i’d find a lover that could hold me ♫ now i’m crying in my room ♫ so skeptical of love ♫ but still i want it more, more, mOre ♫ i give a second chance to cUPID–”

“sing that song one more time and i will shoot you with an actual arrow.”

“hmph, meanie :-(“

usually, wooyoung would sing along to that stupidly addicting cupid song you always sing whenever you’re with him

but right now, he’s a man on a mission !! and he’s very serious about it

“i need absolute silence,” he mutters quietly, his eyes zeroing at the very serious task in hand with his brows furrowed in concentration

“you’re being dramatic.”

his head snaps up to look at you with a glare. “excuSe me? i’m sorry that i’m the only one who obviously has a passion for art here!!”

and by art, he means frosting heart-shaped sugar cookies

this is like, one of the first few human activities he’s doing !! so he wants to actually be good at this !! (〃￣ω￣〃ゞ

he doesn’t know why but he really wants to make you proud :-(

you stifle a giggle when you see his hands practically tremble as he continues to squeeze out the pastel pink frosting from the piping bag onto the heart-shaped cookies

how cute

you walk over to him and gently wrap your hand around his that’s currently holding the piping bag with a death grip, making him let out a small yelp in surprise

“you need to relax,” you softly chide, helping him loosen up his grip to gently guide him into pressing the piping bag properly

meanwhile, wooyoung’s trying to refrain himself from jumping out of your apartment window and flying to mount olympus because he can feel your breath on his neck and his heart is beating a little too fast and omg you’re so close to him &:&;;’js!

honestly, this isn’t the first time wooyoung’s felt this way towards you

it’s just,, he just feels so carefree and himself whenever he’s with you

and also because he thinks you’re the best human ever

and that you have the most beautiful smile

and that if he tries to personify love, the first thing that’d pop up in his head would be an image of you with crinkled eyes and a smile, your twinkly laughter ringing in his ears

but he’d rather let zeus zap him on the butt with a thunderbolt than admit that

“see!” you let go of his hand to excitedly gesture towards the pink cookie you helped him with, “you can do it if you let yourself have fun a little ! this one actually looks pretty decent :-D”

he already misses the warmth of your hand

“are you saying the ones i did before look bad?” he raises a brow, and your eyes nervously flicker to the tray of heart-shaped cookies that looks like it’s been frosted by a kindergartner

you start sweating

“nO of course not aha!!!! haha!!!!” he narrows his eyes at you. “okay not even gonna lie but, they do look kinda bad I’M SORRY”

he huffs, offended. “it's aBstract!”

“it’s lopsided.”

gasp D-:

you laugh when he aggressively rips off his apron before sulking, “i hate baking.”

but he knows that he’d do anything to become human; to leave his cupid errands just so he could be a regular boy who dreams of opening a bakery down the street

and in this alternate universe he’s envisioned, he’d actually manage to do it and that’s where he would first meet you

with his hands coated with flour and him sporting a messy apron, a boyish grin on his lips as he tells you that the small bag of pastry in your hands is on the house and he’d watch as your cheeks endearingly heat up

and then this alternate universe wooyoung would lean against his sleek car as he waits for you outside your apartment for a set date to an amusement park, where he’d win a giant teddy bear for you from one of those rigged game stalls

and he would try his best to make you the happiest you can be every single day

but in this life, he can only distract himself for so long from your fate that's set in stone by the red string intertwined on your pinky finger that stretches out long and far outside your apartment door— a painful reminder of the first thing his mother’s ever told him about love,

that it is never fair.

(he looks at his own gray string looped around his pinky with its short length frayed around the edges before glancing over to you who’s packing the cookies in a tupperware for him to bring while he does his cupid errands, and he knows he doesn’t regret falling for you even though he knows how it’ll end.)

choi jongho

“what do you mean you can’t go????”

jongho may or may not have tears in his eyes right now

“look, man. i really am sorry, i know we planned this weeks ago but it’s an emergency,” mingi sighs from the other line of the call, sounding genuinely regretful. “i really can’t go.”

“the new jujutsu kaisen movie drop isn’t an emergency, hyung.”

“it is !!!!!” mingi exclaims, and jongho wonders whether he’s actually a year older than him. “and i have to be one of the first people who watches it so i’m not exchanging my movie ticket for anything else.”

wow

this hurts even more than the top 10 anime betrayals :-(

“you know what? you should go do it with yn instead. you two look cute together.”

record scratch

jongho almost drops his phone placed on his ear as he feels his cheeks flush a bright beet red. “whAt !!” he squeaks.

“‘kay! i’ll talk to you soon !!!! have fun on the date hehe :-D” beep.

see… the thing is…

jongho really looks up to mingi

he’s his favorite frat brother !!!!!

and so, he finds himself sitting on the couch of your apartment right after the call, obediently following his hyung’s suggestion

curse his soft, compliant heart

“choi jongho, are you asking me out on a date?”

“-!” jongho chokes on his saliva, sputtering out unpleasant noises before bringing his fist to his chest, “n-not a date!” he manages to choke out and you grin cheekily at him. “it’s just a paint & wine class that i was supposed to go with mingi hyung but he ended up bailing, a-and it’s non-refundable and i’ve already paid in full so i’m basically forced to take you instead–”

“yeah yeah,” you dismissively wave a hand at him, already sprinting to your bedroom to get ready. “whatever. i guess i’ll agree to go on a date with you.”

“IT’S NOT A DATE!”

jongho doesn’t know when it all started

after his frat party, you two somehow always meet each other in every party he goes to and you’d both hangout in the corner of the room together, enjoying each other’s company and leaving together when the bass of the loud music finally deafens your ears

and soon enough, you have his number and he has yours, and the party hangouts turn into lunch hangouts that happens almost every day (he looks forward to it and will sulk when he doesn’t meet you at least once a day)

you also like to give him free iced americano and savory pastries from the cafe you work at !! :-D

safe to say, jongho likes you

uH, as a friend !!! of course

yeah

just as a friend

mhm

“psssst, jongho,” you whisper from across the table, stifling a giggle as you eye the other people attending the paint & wine class. “i think you need new prescription glasses.”

“if you ever mention this to wooyoung hyung, i’ll revoke our friendship,” he grits out before chugging his glass of red wine, the tip of his ears flushed red

turns out, jongho had accidentally booked two spots for a paint & wine class reserved for the elderly (which, jongho thinks, is a stupid idea because why would they let old people have a night of free-flow wine????)

the painting instructor actually felt so bad for him that they allowed you two to join the class anyways

so here you are, sitting in the two seat table smackdab in the middle of the room with everyone’s eyes on you

it also doesn’t help that you two decided to dress super fancy as a joke for the night, with jongho wearing a crisp dark gray suit over a white button up that’s barely buttoned and you with a white floor-length evening dress under the apron they gave you

it looks like you both just ditched a wedding or something

which is precisely the look you two are going for !!! :-D

and honestly, his hyungs can tease him all they want for all the mini adventures he does with you but he’s truly the happiest when he’s with you (he will never say this to your face)

“look at what i painted!”

jongho looks up from his canvas to see you pursing your lips in concentration over yours, your hand tightly gripping one of the paintbrushes as you finish up some small details before turning the easel to proudly present the A4 canvas to him. “tadaa!”

the reference for today’s class is an acrylic portrait of a brown kitten and jongho personally thinks he nailed his own rendition of the painting projected on the projection screen in front of the room so he’s really excited to see yours!!!

uhm

“...........yn, that’s not the painting we’re doing today.”

you nod, “i know.”

on your canvas, you’ve painted what looks like a hut with three beds all in different sizes, a dining table with three different sized bowls of porridge, and a family of brown bears with a little blonde boy—

"did you seriously paint me as goldilocks?”

you grin cutely at him, “i did!” you point at goldilocks-jongho on your painting, “you’re with your bear family now! isn’t it cute? :3”

(jongho’s trying his best to not bash his head through the canvas because !!!! nu uh nope nO, he definitely does not like you !!! not at all !!!! it’s just the wine doing things to his brain—)

“and i also painted the bears’ bed sheets purple because it’s your favorite color! and— oh shit.”

a loud clink echoes throughout the room, making everyone's heads (yes, the paint instructor as well) turn to look at your table

…………………

you accidentally plunged your paintbrush in your wine glass instead of the plastic cup of water beside it

both of your eyes widen at the sight of the purple paint staining the red liquid in the expensive glass

and honestly, you can probably just ask for a new glass of wine and apologize for this tiny mistake and it’ll be like nothing ever happened (except for the fact that you'll be embarrassed for the rest of the night)

but where’s the fun in that?

you exchange glances before jongho abruptly stands up from his chair, grab both of your canvases in one hand, and interlaces the other with yours as you two run out of the room, both of your laughters ringing throughout the hallway

“that’s so embarrassing!” you yelp, slamming jongho’s car door behind you before he turns on the engine, quickly backing up from the parking lot to drive away from the building. you groan as you lean back on the passenger seat, “please don’t ever take me to another paint & wine class again.”

jongho can’t help but chuckle at your flustered expression as he carefully place the canvases on the backseat without his eyes leaving the road, “i actually think that was pretty fun.”

“should we get dinner?”

“sure, i know a place. we could pretend we’re having our first anniversary so that they’d give us free chocolate lava cake.”

“are you just using this chance to pretend to be my boyfriend again?” you tease, trying to hide the smile on your face

“why are you so shy about it? we literally made out once–”

“I TOLD YOU TO NEVER BRING THAT UP AGAIN!!!!”

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